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My True Colors Festival

My True Colors Festival in association with Harlem 2020 present Grace Jones: Bloodlight and Bami. This electrifying journey through the public and private worlds of mega-icon Grace Jones contrasts musical sequences with intimate personal footage. Sophie Fiennes’s documentary goes beyond the traditional music biography, offering a portrait as stylish and unconventional as the larger-than-life, androgynous glam-pop culture diva.

Join us for a pre-screening Cocktail Hour plus a post-screening Book Signing and Panel Discussion: “The Power of Black Style On Fashion and Culture Worldwide” with industry experts, including Essence Editor-At-Large Mikki Taylor, Fashion Bomb Daily Founder and leading style blogger Claire Sulmers, legendary black supermodel Pat Cleveland, and Christian Ruart, a renown fashion guru and celebrity stylist who discovered and worked with models like Tyra Banks, Tyson Beckford, Naomi Campbell, and Claudia Schiffer. Join us for an insightful conversation led by My True Colors Co-Founder and Executive Producer Tai Chunn on the ins and outs of black style, its important contribution to fashion and its influence on culture worldwide. The panel also will discuss the industry influence of Grace Jones. While Beyoncé and Rihanna are among today’s major style icons, Grace Jones remains one of the most referenced fashion icons of all time.

Mikki Taylor will be on hand to sign her book, Editor in Chic: How to Style and Be Your Most Empowered Self, shares uplifting advice for women who want to cultivate their beauty both inside and out. As will Claire Sulmers, whose book The Bomb Life: My Brand. My Terms, is part memoir, part self-help with tips for aspiring bloggers;
and Pat Cleveland, whose memoir Walking With The Muses covers fifty years of fashion from the intersection of the Civil Rights Movement, the disco era’s decadence, and the grandeur of Hollywood’s late 70s renaissance

Film Running Time: 116 Minutes

Cocktail Hour begins at 6:00pm in the Media Gallery;

Film Screening starts 7:00pm in the Screening Room

 

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naive secrets

Poetry Lonnie Monka 

snow-soiled feet trailed between alcohol & drugs incubating that suburban winter-break assembly

of conversations forgotten upon being spoken

with golden strands fanning those shoulders

her untouchable frame stirred as the last one

awake & cleaning the house–alone–with me

somehow we snuck into the master-bedroom

stretching across some other family’s bedspread

where too long awake now dream-lost lips touched

hands & fingers caressing curves through clothing tongues trading a mosaic of unspoken secrets

till I awoke alone–smiling & never to see her again

& lightning struck in the storm of friends calling because she had died a sudden death

which precipitated void-driven conversation

& conversation after conversation after conversation all I could think was that I had kissed her

& never told a single soul what I then wanted to scream

 

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Genre: Urban Arts at Milwaukee Fringe Fest

Genre: Urban Arts will be a vendor at the Milwaukee Fringe Festival on August 25th & 26th. Come to pay us a visit! 

We are working on a portraiture project that will be on exhibition soon. Come have your photo taken to have the opportunity to become a part of the art!

We will also have Genre: Urban Arts No. 4 Mags on sale as well as other Genre Merch. 

Read more about MKE Fringe Fest below:

On August 27th – 28th, 2016 the MKE Fringe made its debut in downtown Milwaukee. Following the rich tradition of Fringe Festivals, the Milwaukee Fringe Festival is a showcase of a diverse collection of artists that call Milwaukee home. From theatrical actors to painters, musicians to tap dancers, performance artists to playwrights, MKE Fringe is a joyous celebration of what makes Milwaukee’s culture vibrant and extraordinary (MKEFringe.com).

There will be over 30 acts as well as a plethora of vendors. Come to support Milwaukee Creatives! Visit MKEFringe.com for more info.

 

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We are Coming for Our Language

a poem by Shirley Jones

 

In the history of words         suffragettes fighting for rights

badges of honor     queer an insult         to some but a fortune

to others       who wish to  tell it slant & mingle fact with fiction

as they try to     copyright our words    we must reclaim our names

This appropriation is unnecessary    for the power of language

has been distorted       & used against us

Continue reading We are Coming for Our Language

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The Billy Conahan Experience Live video at Bowery Poetry Club

If you’re looking to quail your creative fix, here is video from our partners over at Bowery Poetry. If you are in the NYC area, stop over and visit this classy venue. The drinks are great! The talent never fails to impress, and the staff is DOPE. Big ups Heath and Julius.

In the area? View their calendar below.

Bowery Poetry Calendar

 

Enjoy!

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Confessions of a Pendeja: Breaking Habits of Petty.

 

Have you ever had such a mischievous thought that can fuck someone’s life up? Yeah, me neither…….SIKE! Maaaaaaaan, it can be so hard sometimes to have that type of power over someone and choose not to use it against them ESPECIALLY when you can’t stand a motherfucker! However, I must say, I’m very proud of this new thing I’m doing, just letting shit go, let it roll off my back and keep it moving. Before my level of pettiness had to be fed whatever negative emotion I was feeling at the moment. My main objective was to make the other person feel my pain. After all my plotting I still felt unsatisfied with my “victory”. Something had to give and that something is me, I had to change.

I noticed the change was needed for many reasons, one being I just had to grow the fuck up, being childish is not a good look for me especially when I’m raising a child myself. I don’t want my son to hold on to resentment and pain the way I used to. Another HUGE reason was that when I held on to that disappointment, pain, pride, and ego it started to cloud my perspective and overall my whole vibe changed, I started not to like myself. People who loved me started to dislike me, people who didn’t know me felt a weird energy and it was hard to connect with others, I was the source of the fuckery. Also, let me tell you when you act ugly you tend to look ugly too! Most importantly, I want to feel like me again. One day I woke up and decided to just stop the bullshit and start healing my soul from whatever it was that caused me to behave so damn petty.

Painting was a major part of my process. I started painting more and one thing lead to another. I can honestly say if I wasn’t so petty in the past and didn’t realize I needed to refocus I probably would not be painting and creating art like I am now. Rebuilding burned bridges was also part of my healing. I reached out to old friends, even exes to simply apologize for projecting my pain on to them.

Moral of the story, being petty sometimes happens and it may be well deserved, but what are you really gaining? Instant satisfaction of what? All you are really doing is stealing an opportunity to grow through experiences. Feel the pain, anger, disappointment, and let go of your ego, your soul needs it. Deal with it personally and move on when you are ready, no need to be petty.

 

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To an old friend.

Photograph by Samihah Pargas

I wrote your name on an empty page and

suddenly it seemed full.

Our memories fill in the blank spaces when my words aren’t enough.

They never are.

Yet you hold onto them the way you held my heart

when it was too heavy for me to carry.

You are home. You are

tear stained ink on pages of poetry for quiet nights.

You are the words I seek but never find.

You made us beautiful to read about.

– Samihah Pargas
– IG: Shadesofherink

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Nudity still disguised

 

 

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beti

Maa makes a salan for each son

because they like different things

 

but the beti needs to learn to make her own food

kyun ki uski age pe shaadi aur bachey hotey hain

 

larka jaan per be jaiy, jaise bi rai

maa ankh band karke osko kabi kuch boley gi nahi

 

beti aik galti kare

uski izzat zaban per aja ti hai

 

the sons can go out and party get a girl pregnant

but they’ll still be able to move on and find a good girl to marry

 

the girl stays out a bit later than 8 pm

might wear a t-shirt,

and the whole mohalla is calling her a slut, saying she’s no longer a virgin

 

truth is

we don’t love our girls as much as our sons

 

truth is

you have failed us girls

 

truth is

us girls are tired of walking on eggshells

of being thrown around, walked all over

and expected to have sabr

 

kehte hain betiyaan sab se bari rehmat hain

toh aaj hum ko kyun torey ho

 

Picture Credit: @thepakistanimarthastewart

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A dance in the dark

Now I find myself dancing
to the frantic beat of my heart
at the threshold of judgment
desperate for a figment of
something positive, warm
but realise that I’m shackled
by cynical negations, galore.
Here demons wear masks
of noblemen and kings
and brandish their swords
Continue reading A dance in the dark

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The Aftermath by Samihah Pargas

I often wondered if you were as sad as I was after you walked away. It pained me to say that perhaps you were not, and one day I had to let my hope dissipate. This is where I walk now, on the road taking me further away from you and any dreams I held onto. I stopped by the ocean for a while and tried to drop your name into the water, but I might as well have drowned myself because you were still inscribed all over me. Continue reading The Aftermath by Samihah Pargas

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Indomitable Woman

that badass Black Queen
fluttered across those keys,
matching the grooves of her
scars, the heart of her art
beaming at war

scaling buildings of thought,
mauling the gaul of contention,
shattering mirrors of sought
insecurities & indecision

skipping across the creamy
dusts of nebulas, tapping
the tips of her toes on
starry mists. Continue reading Indomitable Woman

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Anatomy of a Suicide

You assume that they will think of you
and smile.
Remember all of your best attributes,
wish you were here.

Sometimes that’s true.
Sometimes it’s not.

Sometimes I want to bring you back to life
just to tell you how angry I am.
To tell you I love you
and that he deserved better.

m.e. peters

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Not Perfect

I’m not perfect.
Although that should be clear as water, sometimes I feel the need to state it. For myself and for others. Especially for others. It is probably my fault and in my actions. It’s probably something I do or don’t do. It’s probably because of the way I see the world and how I speak of it.
I am not perfect.
And I get tired.
And I give up too.
There are so many things I have given up and not looked back. There are so many things I have looked back but not regretted. There are so many things I regret too.
It’s entirely human. I believe.
Being a mess of so many things, not only good, not only bad, but everything. Not black or white but fifty shades of blue. And some purple, once you wear those rose colored glasses. On holidays. Or those real good days.
The days you hold on to with everything you got to keep moving forward. To keep moving. Even if only an inch or less. Even if to the sides or back. Just moving. Because life is made of movements, moments, actions and decisions you never really got to think through.
Life happens. But I digress.
I’m not perfect. And that’s fine. It’s entirely human, I believe.
What about you?
© Máh Lima


Photo by Ahmed Ashhaadh on Unsplash