what he meant: you are mine. when i say wear this, you wear this. when i say, do not speak to him, do not speak to him. kiss me like this, here, and here, do not ever look me in the eyes.
cousin loved Outsider. when he came crashing into home reeking of alcohol he turned skin into a bruise. when i was eleven it was her turn at the store. i sat in a corner reading a book while she was on the phone with a friend, telling her she loved him. i looked at her lip and the sleeves she wore to cover her arms and the book suddenly became so heavy so i closed my eyes and slept. i had a dream i killed him.
when do you learn to associate love with wounds. i ask myself this and i make a list but i do not finish because my hands shake. sugar, honey, is it when he calls you an ugly fuck you are lucky to be with me, or when your sister is telling you boy she love rapes but begs it into sex, or is it when the mirror transforms reflection into monster but mama says you are beautiful, baba tells you to love yourself. i know a woman who doused her husband in gasoline and set him on fire. the village called her mad but she is drinking tea at noon; crime for freedom.
grandparents married for 50 years.
i do not know many things, i only collect memories and stories. countries not my country own country not fully mine so i make homeland here, tribe is of sisters who fight for justice and braid flowers into their hair, smell of mangoes and blood, revolution exists here.
summer was painted on our skin, and those secrets hidden in our childish lips, they would die for a kiss
fall was always left in your eyes, just a fleck of yellow light like the sunrise
If grandmothers around the world had a rallying cry, it would probably sound something like “You need to eat!”
Photographer Gabriele Galimberti’s grandmother said something similar to him before one of his many globetrotting work trips. To ensure he had at least one good meal, she prepared for him a dish of ravioli before he departed on one of his adventures.
“In that occasion I said to my grandma ‘You know, Grandma, there are many other grandmas around the world and most of them are really good cooks,” Galimberti wrote via email. “I’m going to meet them and ask them to cook for me so I can show you that you don’t have to be worried for me and the food that I will eat!’ This is the way my project was born!”
The project, “Delicatessen With Love”, took Galimberti to 58 countries where he photographed grandmothers with both the ingredients and finished signature dishes.
He acted as photographer and stylist during each shoot with the grandmothers, taking a portrait of both the women and the food they made for him.
From top to bottom:
Inara Runtule, 68, Kekava, Latvia. Silke (herring with potatoes and cottage cheese).
Grace Estibero, 82, Mumbai, India. Chicken vindaloo.
Susann Soresen, 81, Homer, Alaska. Moose steak.
Serette Charles, 63, Saint-Jean du Sud, Haiti. Lambi in creole sauce.
The photographer’s grandmother Marisa Batini, 80, Castiglion Fiorentino, Italy. Swiss chard and ricotta Ravioli with meat sauce.
Normita Sambu Arap, 65, Oltepessi (Masaai Mara), Kenya. Mboga and orgali (white corn polenta with vegetables and goat).
Julia Enaigua, 71, La Paz, Bolivia. Queso Humacha (vegetables and fresh cheese soup).
Fifi Makhmer, 62, Cairo, Egypt. Kuoshry (pasta, rice and legumes pie).
Isolina Perez De Vargas, 83, Mendoza, Argentina. Asado criollo (mixed meats barbecue).
Bisrat Melake, 60, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Enjera with curry and vegetables.
[ I was going to post a long rant about some arrogant yoga girl who insists people are ignorant for using olive oil to cook and should not eat fish or drink milk or eat cheese because of all sorts of problematic food issues, instead I said, let me focus on those who celebrate food. If you still want to see the link of the article she was waving on her Facebook, there you go. Privileged white people…ugh]
and miles to go before I sleep. / for those who have too much to accomplish whilst time is slipping through their fingers. (cover by x)
[an mix full of instrumental scores and soothing music]
01. Foreground - Grizzly Bear / 02. The Resurrection Stone (Deathly Hallows Part 2) - Alexandre Desplat / 03. Come Away to the Water - Glen Hansard / 04. We All Complete (Never Let Me Go) - Rachel Portman / 05. Big Jet Plane - Angus & Julia Stone / 06. End of the World (Beasts of the Southern Wild) - Dan Romer & Benh Zeitlin / 07. Medicine - Daughter / 08. Cloud Atlas Sextet (Cloud Atlas) - Tom Tykwer, Johnny Klimek & Reinhold Heil / 09. Tiger Mountain Peasant Song - Fleet Foxes / 10. Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 8, RV 315, “L’estate” - Antonio Vivaldi / 11. Reminder - Mumford & Sons / 12. The Breaking of the Fellowship (Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring) - Howard Shore / 13. Old Pine - Ben Howard / 14. Movement 1 - In the Countenance of Kings - Sufjan Stevens / 15. Woods - Bon Iver
your heart’s a mess but you won’t admit to it
and it will be just like you were never gone
if you ever come back
"to the women who came before me/ to the mamas that safeguarded us in their wombs for months/ to the mamas that walked miles and miles in search of water during drought/ to the women that got married too young/ too afraid/ to the women that got married in old age after a lifetime spent in solitude/ to women too afraid to say no/ to women who said no anyways/ to quiet, unspoken resistance/ to revolution when it is loud and in your face and unapologetic/ to mucooyo who knocked out four of caamir’s teeth when he raised his hand to hit her/ left his mouth bloody and empty so he would think of her everytime he ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth/ to the women who warmed beds they didn’t want to sleep in/ to the women who loved before me/ to the women who loved me/ to the women who’ve known loss and heartache/ to women that watched their men kill and be killed/ to the women who sweat in the sun looking for work/ to all the women who work/ whose work is unseen and unpaid/ to the women who washed clothes under the fiery sun/ who hung clothes on clotheslines to dry/ watched over it so it wouldn’t be stolen/ to the women who held their breasts to young mouths/ who pray for milk and honey/ who have known peace/ who have not known peace/ who dream of peace/ nabad iyo caano/ to the countless women who have raised me/ sheltered me/ prayed for me/ fed me/ clothed me/ taught me/ who have crossed oceans to carry me out of war/ who have cleaned up the blood of our country/ who write poems/ who live poems/ who build and rebuild/ and breathe/ and live/ and resist/ and resist/ and resist/ who taught me to resist/ whose bodies are bridges/ whose backs are bridges/ who have carried the weight of worlds/ and words/ spoken/ and unspoken/ so that i may speak/ so that i may live/ so that i may dream/ and fight/ i love you/ i honor you/ i carry your struggles in my heart/ i carry you all in my heart"