Lockdown Edition: THE DOOR IS CLOSED!
Issue 003, check it out in its entirety here
I couldn’t help but wonder, did Nene Leakes predict the panny with her iconic RHOA line, or was she simply ahead of her time?
I know I know, I vowed to create newsletters monthly and my reason for this was simply because I didn’t want you all to be inundated with my content, and I am always at risk of suffering from creative burnout.
That said, drastic times call for drastic measures and this is an international cry for help. Seeing as we’ll all be stuck indoors from Thursday until Boris and his cohorts decide otherwise, I think we should all hold hands and sing Rihanna - We All Want Love. Except perhaps from a safe and social distance, or via Zoom. Unfortunately now, you’ll have no choice but to digest my incredibly self critical content because what else are you going to do? Be more productive with your time?! HA!
Lockdown the Remix - ft. Unresolved Trauma & Anxi-Ety is just that *little* bit easier the second time around. Well for me anyway. Part one, to be continued, was mostly days of tear-filled eyes and pleading with myself not to pull another Britney. Lockdown part two means I have rehearsed this enough to convince myself that I’ll do home workouts every morning and still never do them. #Growth.
It’s a shitty situation, I understand. We can no longer pretend that being stuck indoors with no new shows is going to be easy. Especially not while Netflix UK stands stubbornly strong in its resistance to upload the great Black shows available on its US counterpart. BUT we’ll be spending less, masturbating more and getting back into the things that really matter most. Like sprinkle cake debates and silently judging those who are travelling for leisure.
The road to lockdown is long and much like that of the yellow brick road in the Wizard of Oz, it’s likely a drunken mirage ahead with no *real* reward at the end of it all. Along the way we’ll rekindle relationships with the links we decided we’d never settle for, much less give the time of day to, spend our lockdown savings on discounted UberEats meals and similarly to Jack Sparrow of The Pirates of the Caribbean, complain that the “rum is always gone”. The time is nigh to stock up on Lidl’s finest €2 wine, invest in rechargeable vibrators, and release the bad boy pieces of informaTION we’ve been sitting on, so we can set the world ablaze with exquisite content.
2020, the year of immeasurable distress, but also... realising stuff.
Love @ First Creative Spark
Years ago; back when we could travel freely and Naomi Campbell’s sanitary plane antics were all but an internet joke, I journeyed to my homeland of Barbados.
No girl:boy holiday would be complete without divulging in one another’s love lives and judging the decisions made in the past. So we did just that. In a conversation that consisted of asking what our “type” was - all the while picking apart our past loves - my friends became transfixed with my pattern of dating creative men. Be that photographers (lol), graphic designers, “musicians” and the rest. Up to then I truly believed that because there was no distinctive pattern in looks, I must’ve been wildly open and unselective in my choice in men. Apparently not. But my fascination with these individuals was because they always inspired me to work harder in what I was doing. Sure, they were likely struggling to finance a sunset dinner at the Shard, but there was something so unbelievably sexy about people who knew what they wanted, created non-fucking-stop and went full throttle for their dreams. Even in saying this, I understand why I’ve been balls deep in a sex haze without ever having sampled the goodies (Ciara), many times before.
I discovered via Twitter that the ‘non-sexual act that turns me on’ is hearing people speak poetically of their craft and I’m going to live my truth and own that. Everybody has an addiction, mine happens to be this.
Recently I rekindled a friendship and remembered immediately why I’d been so enamoured with this individual once before. Though I'm not swayed in the same way I once was, the creative allure was still alive and kicking. Simply put, they inspired creativity in me, always have and are the reason I’m breaking my own newsletter rules to send out this edition. So you’re welcome, I guess?
This week’s #ThingsIDontMeme is courtesy of having my creative ideas a little bit jacked, or ripped from my midst if you will.
I once tweeted that I do not appreciate the sentiment of ‘imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,’ because like, just get your own ideas. So when presented with moments where the ideas I spent creatively crying over, are seemingly ripped from beneath me, I silently riot. Both dramatically and furiously tapping at the keyboard to let my counterparts know that one is not amused and also, just like... no init.
That instance however birthed this week's meme. I'd like to believe that Kim knew what TF she was talking about when she passionately screamed this paraphrased KUWTK quote. And I too will scream it till my final hour.
To quote Rihanna, “move modafucka u in di way” and that’s exactly how I plan to close this literary mess.
Love, L x