Call of the Side-Show: War Paint & Greasepaint

On August 28, 2014August 28, 2014 By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Call of the Side-Show: War Paint & Greasepaint

Alexander O’Neal

Even as a young woman I was never one for too much make-up but I was curious. When I was a teenager my mother forbid me from wearing make-up because it would make me too “grown” or scandalous! Not something a good Baptist girl should be. Being a 13 year old my plan to get around this was to take the eye-shadow to school and put it on in the girls’ bathroom, then reverse the process taking it off before going home. Well one day I forgot. Went home with electric fluorescent blue eye shadow which only made me look like a candidate for Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus. Well when I got in the house my mother met me before I could remove my Clown make-up. To say she was upset was an understatement. I believe after yelling at me she went through my bedroom and tossed out any contraband make-up hiding in my dresser or closet.

I didn’t really experiment too much with make-up for a while. As a young Enlisted woman on my way to the NCO club with my girlfriends I was always the first one ready because I only used some lipstick and that was about it. Even now I stick with a little lip gloss, lipstick and only use eye-shadow if I’m going out to a party or special event. I see no reason to make Revlon, Bobby Brown or Estee Lauder richer than they already are.

I never tweezed or plucked my eyebrows until my 50s when the onset of menopause means facial hair in places that made me embarrassed thinking I was turning into a guy. Unless you’re in the sideshow mustaches and chin hairs are not a good thing especially if you hope to be attractive to the opposite sex. One of the hot trends now is the fake eyelashes. Not the ones you buy in the store but the ones that need to be individually applied in the salon. Since that involves glue I won’t be doing that ever. I’m lucky in that my own natural eyelashes have a good length and thickness. From time to time I will invest in Mascara to make them appear even longer and thicker. Vanity beckons from the beauty counters.

Many women are into beauty enhancements, some for fashion, and others to fight the aging process. Extensions, hair-weaves, Botox, Restalyne, fake nails, boob and butt jobs, etc… I admit that for special occasions I’ve had fancy African braided styles but then I go back to my Afro. When I was in my late 30s into my 40s I sported my Locs and am thinking of Loc’ing my hair again. I get my pedicures on a regular basis but usually just cut my own fingernails. It’s tacky to have raggedy feet and toes while wearing sandals in the summertime.

As I’ve gotten older most of the men I’ve dated and including my current BF prefer women to be natural. One guy I know calls make-up “War Paint”. Also many men love the natural kink, curl and knaps of Natural hair. Guys really don’t want to run their fingers through your hair in intimate moments and get snagged in hair weave tracks.

Happy to say that my Mr. Geechie Man is very happy with the natural me. No complaints. I’m happy too.

Obsidian Ebony Sioux Blackfoot Visions with a Dollop of Cream

On July 31, 2014July 31, 2014 By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Africa, African American Queen, African Goddess, Afro Sheen, Afros, America, Ancestor, Ancestry, Black Orpheus, Brillo, Colour of Beauty, Dark Skin, DeBorah, Family History, Family Tree, Gifted & Black, Goddess, Jerome, Jerry, Kinky/Nappy Hair, Lupita Nyong'o, Natural hair, Songs of Solomon & Sheba, Tar Baby, West Virginia

Black in America ~ Kujichagulia — Self–Determination

Obsidian Ebony Sioux Blackfoot Visions

My family ranges from pale white with blue eyes to Darkest Black. However I really had no idea of my Rainbow family until Aunts passed away and then when my father died in 1995. Then I was confronted with somebody who had white skin and blue eyes saying that they were my cousins. I always knew my Paternal Grandfather had been married twice but it was then that I realized his first wife must have been white. That was probably the real reason he left Petersburg, VA and moved to New York during the early 1900s…
As a child during the 1960s, I remember being called Tar Baby. I remember my mother who was light-skinned but who suffered under Jim Crow in Dayton, Ohio saying, “If You’re white you’re alright. If your Brown stick around. If you’re Black Get Back!” Every day on the playground of a Black school Black kids would taunt me. Tar Baby! African! Monkey! I came home crying every day. My Dad who was Dark-Skinned always told me, “The Blacker the Berry the Sweeter the Juice. If the berry’s too light it has no use.” That would give me comfort.

Defiant DeBorah — Defiant precocious DeBorah

However it took decades before I was comfortable in my Black skin. But the pigeon holing by the Black Community, My Community was very evident in the 60s and 70s when I was coming of age. I don’t have what many Black people define as African features. Whatever that means. From a child even until now Black people, white people and other Peoples of Color will ask me if I’m part Native American. The answer to that question is Yes but if they looked closely at the African continent they’d find Black people with all manner of varied facial features. But nobody does. They just assume.

My Speech. My Dad taught me to speak what he called “The King’s English.” Slang was not allowed in our home. As a result Black people say I sound like I’m white or that I speak proper. Excuse me but aren’t we all supposed to speak English instead of Ebonics?! White people say I’m very articulate (unsaid ~ “for a Black person) It’s a No Win situation.

The kinky nappy hair did not help. I was called Brillo pad. There was the evil straightening comb with Dixie Peach and Ultra Sheen (hair grease). My Mom telling me to bend my head so she could get to my “Kitchen.” My hair was so thick, teeth broke out of combs my mother attempted on my Kinapps. Then came 1972 when my Dad decided that I was going to get an Afro. Watu Wasuri Use Afro Sheen. Then I was Beautiful. Angela Davis Black Panther Party Soul Train Beautiful. In the 80s I surrendered to Jheri Curl Juice. Since then I’ve been pig-tailed, relaxed, braided, loc’ed and now with my not so thick Menopausal hair I’ve returned home to my Afro. Not as Fierce. Somewhat wiry and thanks to L’Oreal always colored various shades of red.

The new stigma for me now, Ageism. Being a Black Woman over 50 who thanks to that once hated Dark Skin now is grateful because Black Don’t Crack!

Me at around age five or six — Little Me

African/Native American Queen — MMC 2002 Graduation

Victory Salute at Seven Bell Fitness Gym

Evolution of Childhood InterPlanetary Dreams

On June 19, 2014September 30, 2017 By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, African American Queen, Black Unicorn, Cornucopia, Creativity, DeBorah, Deliverance, Dreams, Edward Palmer, Ethiopian Goddess, Eva Gordon Palmer, Explore, Family History, Family Tree, Fantasy, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Folklore, Genetic Memory, Goddess, Hallucinations, Hattie Finney Banks, Hypnos, Innovation, Inquisitive, Insomnia, Jacob's Ladder, Kinky/Nappy Hair, Lyrical Family Memories, Mable Elizabeth Palmer, Mable Palmer, Maternal Heritage, Maternal lineage, Matriarchy, Memory, Mid-Life, Midnight Marauder, Morpheus, Mystical Creatures, Negritude, New Age, Night Bird, Nirvana, Oneiroi, Optical illusions, Orpheus, Poems, Protean, Quilt, Sacred, Sages, soul, Spirituality, Stigmata, Surrealism, Thánatos, Tree of Knowledge, Vision, Vision Quest, Visions1 Comment

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/planet/

Evolution of Childhood InterPlanetary Dreams

Grandmas Reign Quilt

Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer -- Grandmother — Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer — Grandmother

Epoch Heydays beat rhythm time Tempo bringing Glory Days and Golden Age into Earth, Space, time Continuum alignment around my being. Spiritual Discernment begins the convergence of planets, Moon-Womben Star-gazers endlessly birthing heavenly bodies and floating orbs.

Mother Africa as Creator Goddess singing Reign Blessings upon her children.

My World, the ones I saw in my Grandmother’s Quilt and the ever expanding Galaxies beyond Earth, Sky, Sun and Moon-Daughter Wishes, Hopes and Desires.

Ancient hand stretching finger Ancestor Dimensions reaching forward into time and eternity bringing revelation knowledge of history long past yet made fresh daily.

Troubles beating bloody fists upon my pate.

Belladonna into Nightshades.

Tethered by an unholy umbilical cord to a dead albatross. Dreams deluge. Green metal Frigidaire Fan blowing air opposite it’s promised heat relief. Stub toe late shift Dad curses Castro and his Convertible. Bucolic heat wave summer in the city. 25 cent Ice Cream salvation dispensed by Mr. Softee. Martha Reeves and her Vandellas gyrating to Dancing in the Streets while kids follow her Piped Pipers.

Kool-Aid libation sugar screams ensue while transistor talking heads Ralph Kiner and Lindsey Nelson called Shea play by plays. Bygone days of Tri-Corn braids. Fletcher’s Castoria Beef Iron Wine cocktails. Childhood freedom beckons signalling release from adulthood chain gangs. Teeter-totter bring unbalanced superimposed idealized memories to double-doubted times past. It’s 1964 and my Dixie Peach anointed head snuggles with Panda pillow transcending time once again in the loving arms of Grandma Eva’s patchwork quilt.

In Praise of Darker Hues

On April 27, 2014January 25, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn Acceptance, African American Queen, African Goddess, Brillo, Colorstruck, Colour of Beauty, Damaged Goods, Dark Skin, DeBorah, deception, Deliverance, Ethiopian Goddess, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Hair, Hair Texture, Kinky/Nappy Hair, Lupita Nyong'o, Natural hair, Negritude, Rejection, Spirituality, Tar Baby, Weaves5 Comments

I’m very glad that Lupita Nyong’o was voted World’s Most Beautiful Woman! So proud to see a Dark Skinned Sister Honored in this Fashion.

I read her Oscar Acceptance speech reprinted in Essence Magazine. It certainly resonated with me. Even though I’m 25 years older than her and was raised in New York City I can still hear the taunts of “Tar Baby”, monkey, Black African (Black was not Beautiful in the 1960s) from my school-mates on the playground. Watu Wasuri Use Afro Sheen came much later in late 1970s. Still light skin was in. There was a saying I heard many times growing up, “If you’re light, you’re alright. If you’re brown still around. If you’re black get back.” From straightening combs to weaves the Self-hatred becomes internalized.

Weaves looking like Davy Crockett hats perched atop uneasy heads marching LocKstep with conformity. Multi-hued raccoons skipping across Jungle Fever Brows missing nesting material in which to snuggle Eurocentric brainwashing.

Even when I went into the U.S. Army my always thick, kinky and Knappy was called a Brillo pad. I was always made to feel so ugly usually by my own Black people. I expected whites to call me the “N” Word after all this was the 1960s and my parents who knew Jim Crow by heart prepared me for rejection as a Black girl in a white dominated society. In a way I was very surprised to hear that in a Black dominated/ruled society/country such as Kenya young Lupita experienced similar taunts, jibes and insults.

Many times I would come home from school crying. I hated my skin color and my hair texture. My father tried to soothe my broken spirit and build my self confidence by telling me, “The Blacker the Berry the sweeter the juice. If the berry’s too light it has no use.” I did feel better for a while but it was not until I was well past age 40 that I began to really appreciate being dark-skinned with coarse thick hair. For one thing now that I’m well past 50 all this wonderful melanin truly means, “Black Don’t Crack”. As for my hair menopause has removed the thick & coarse texture but I’m proud to wear my hair natural since age 36. Over the years there were times when I battled a Eurocentric mindset but as I journey through middle-age and beyond I embrace and am one with my African heritage.

Yes Ladies, “Say it Loud! I’m Black and I’m Proud!”

I Am Not a Stereotype

On July 19, 2013February 17, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Abuse, Africa, African American Queen, African Goddess, Barbie doll, Carnal, Colorstruck, Colour of Beauty, Craving, Dark Skin, Erotic, Ethiopian Goddess, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Sexual Fantasy, Spirituality, Stereotypes, Vanity, Wisdom, Woman, WTF13 Comments

I am not a Stereotype

Stereotypes Hurt. No More Labels!!

Women of all colors, races, religions ethnic groups and nationalities face double jeopardy.

I will not be defined by the narrow conventions of your mangled mind.

Me and Patti LaBelle got a new attitude.

http://youtu.be/7jHToFiZuSU

I will not be typecast by the slant of my eyes, the color of my skin or country of origin.

I am a Woman of faith of dignity who demands and commands respect.

I refuse to suffer indignities of your racist sexist perversions.

I follow the laws of God as dictated by my belief system whatever it may be.

I am not an exotic playtoy or life size Barbie doll existing only to gratify, satisfy or fulfill your twisted sadistic carnal predilections.

I am not the one and today is not your day.

I will not be afraid and will not back down.

I am not a victim.

I am more than a survivor.

I am defiant.

You do not have license to ill.

My height, weight, shape do not delineate me as a loose woman or a hot number.

I am not your Ethiopian Chocolate Fantasy or submissive Asian delight found in the back covers of men’s magazines.

I am not your Indian Maiden with feathers in her hair or a sari wrapped around her waist.

If I’m a Lesbian nothing between your legs will make me straight and certainly does not impress me.

Whatever fever you got, be it Jungle Fever, Yellow Fever, Red Fever, Hot Spicy Latina Fever, I’m about to throw cold water all over it and knock you out cold. Get over yourself. You’re not all that and a bag of chips.

I choose who, when, where and if I will lay my body down.

I am the Goddess and only the worthy may gain access to the Temple. As Women we are called to maintain order in the Universe. Ladies ~ Realize your calling.

Ladies sexual abuse, workplace bullying and sexual harassment is the Elephant in the Room that everybody sees but fails to acknowledge its presence. Instead we step lightly around him hoping he will go away of his accord. Do not remain silent. Speak up. Speak out.