Trauma. It’s part of the human experience. How I’ve dealt with trauma.
To experience this life is nothing short of just going through a range of issues until you one day settle upon a solution. This existence provides us with choices. Red pill, vs the blue pill type shit. This is why most believe that the matrix is a documentary and not some action-packed classic.
On one hand you can sit with all that happened to you and is happening to you. It’s easy to loathe the human experience. In fact, reclining into the worse attributes of life is and always will be the easiest of experiences.
In the other palm, you have this hard to swallow pill. That medicine that aches the body long before it heals you.
These are your choices.
This is the importance of living what you are and aspire to be. This is the importance of separating mind from the overbearing fatigue that is life. We just salmon swimming against the current and swimming up river is a difficult task. However difficult tasks are important to set out upon whenever you are charged with importance.
At the same time everything worth a damn in this realm is on the other side of everything you hate. I can’t specify this enough. A human must know themselves well enough to the point where they’re able to separate pain from their inner workings. We must digest hurt and pain. Through alchemic processes. By transmuting into stories, and art, and unfiltered love.
I attempt to not make these postings so much about my life as it steals away from proper teachings. However, my life before now has/was full of abuse from a young age. Whether it was the beatings from my father, and my memories of witnessing him do the same to my mother. Whether it was being bullied so much in school, that even with a high IQ I had to be sentences to night school just to graduate high school. Whether it was the murder of my cousin “Tank” in my home town. Race wars at my high school in 2004. Or shoot outs on the dirt roads of Alabama.
Life aint been easy but it taught me to fight. It taught me that all animals, beasts and creatures have their own struggle to rise above. There’s simply something so refreshing to the unfair human experience to understand that it is shared with those who walk beside you.
It taught me that hate is but a concentration of energy on the wrong things. Because of this, I now know that forgiveness is the only way out. I also, understand that forgiveness doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to retreat to old ways to allow a human to reintroduce hurt and pain to your life.
With all the hate I could be filled with it takes far too much energy to dislike a human when I could just better understand that humans are forever changing. So....I am not perfect nor do I aspire to be but I work on myself daily. I build routines to assist in my internal workings. I don’t look to be better than the next just better than me and who I was and where I come from.
I think that’s gangsta.
Ya know, to survive these plains of existence and to keep it moving. To see the best parts of humanity when we’re always being showed the worse.
Lol. Most things in life and media are a trap. I don’t think we engineered this place as is on purpose. Just a bunch of old white men, with old brains, that buried their souls deep and believed to heavily in their own legend. They believed in conquest. They believed conquering above all else and now the most potent drug, power. Has removed the humanity from them and they have a hard time stopping.
Hmmmm. It is worth being angry about but it’s more so worth being a better human to community. You can protest against the horrid actions of mankind or you can go back to your community and do better by them. If you want to heal and heal those around you. You start in your inner circles. You tell what you know. You tell it honest. You tell your point of view.
At days end most humans undergo identical crises. It’s all the same shit. Help the homies and teach them to help their homies. Love can spread just as quickly as hate if unencumbered.
Iono, these are just morning pages.
I’ve always just wrote and danced about love and hatred. I think it’s important to share these things, as I said, we all going through it and need the stories of those who overcame.
P.S.
There’s this thing called exercising your demons. Take it literally. Go to the gym, dance, run, bike hard until your lungs wish to collapse. This in turn, washes the soul and body of harmful energy and poison.
Hope this helps.
DISCOUNT CODE:BLOGLOVE
*Hands To Heart*
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HAD TO BRING IT BACK
How does the west, and the YT communities do so little but benefit so much?
We stand within this overly lush marble of abundance.
ProtectEd by it’s ozone layer.
A shield of natural order and being.
At times having even a decent understanding of just how special and odd it is to draw breath on a daily,
in turn, takes your breath away.
Sure, life gets dark for some.
It still is quite hell on Earth for many and we must never forget how lucky we are to be in the West.
However, even through most my issues that I “feel” are paramount in importance.
When compared to those beings who slave, become refugees due to foreign legislation, who create and pull from Earth devalued stones that will somehow find value in a YT male hands of Antwerp or Paris.
I’m forced to beg the question and ask my non-POC friends to really sit with this thought.
How does the west, and the YT communities do so little but benefit so much?
It’s appalling, the fact that most YT humans I meet think these brilliant cities of high rise flats, museums, art, jewels, cars, technology, were pulled from their own rocky, and infertile land.
To consider, white minds the greatest “thinkers” on planet Earth.
Then to speak with great YT minds and watch them evade the facts of wrong doing.
Of thievery….
Of Murder……
Of Rape………
Of Enslavement….
For 100+100+100+100+100
=500 years of torture and 1k years of impunity,
since you came to Africa (after the Moores saved you from complete destruction) and left us vacant
…..and this still occurs, you still wage ware upon us.
This idea of non-issue to me, as long as I can’t see it.
”Life isn’t that bad for POC’s, as we brought you guys culture” kills me…
What a third reich, kkk, proud boy, trump’s new america, AZZ LIE!!!
The brain fuck is, the amount of anti meat, anti capitalism, anti whatever the fuck college kids.
Who grew up and grew free under the protection of a social infrastructure or the old blood money collected by dead ancestors only to tell POC, “that WE must work together to be a better society”.
Where does one find the courage to look into a pair of melanin filled eyes and try to ask for help in fixing some shit your grand pappy and his pappy before him fucked up.
Do you forget that black people having power of legislation and law in this world is quite modern?
During the trail of tears, Transatlantic Slave Trade, WWI-WWII, 100 Years War, Pearl Harbor, Vietnam “War”, Revolutionary War, Civil War, Etc….you know back when you guys were BIG FUCKING UP!!
POC people were either in chains or dying for the LIE that they would be freed and treated as MEN and WOMEN.
This isn’t to point the finger but……NAWWWWW FUCK DAT!!
I’m pointing the finger.
My white friends.
Ya’ll gotta get busy.
Do what you gotta do, cry into your starbucks, reusable mugs.
Call the police, Karen, and have a therapeutic chat with them.
Really let it all out.
…..and then turn around and clean up all this milk that you guys have spilled.
Also, money!! You owe my relatives and I for 500 years of hate, murder, improper treatment, and so on.
I’m thinking a few states, all of Africa, and that gold you stole from Libya, will do.
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In FOE!!!
Berlin Circa 2021
Perseverance is Just Watered Down Evolution.
One of my favorite film quotes goes a little something like......
“I am Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.”
This shit used to give me chills as a boy. This film also single handedly drug me from my first form, of being a couch potato, to exploring the ancient corridors of Rome. Which in turn slung me throughout Europe.
However, I didn’t bring you here to chat you up about a Russel Crowe film. Instead, I wanted to speak to you on my understanding of positivity, in today's world.
Some days back my artistic director and I had to do a little shopping for a short film we intend to shoot this weekend. A piece centered around the story of the refugee crisis that plagues the world and those who survived it. All art isn’t happy art. Getting paid to portray the life of the down trodden ain’t that sweet.
We’re having lunch at an overpriced burger joint in Berlin and she says to me, “what if dance doesn’t work? what then?”
Old Resse would have gotten up and excused himself from the quandaries of anything negative that challenged his outlook on life. In most cases this is the best way to handle the negative oppression of personal ideals from an outside entity but I stayed.
I answered “I have total faith in myself. I’ve already made it as a dancer”.
She replied “Well I don’t have that kind of faith in myself”.
Most humans can deal fancily with those humans who have negative outlooks on life. It’s almost as if there’s a Rumi poem waiting on you in the off chance that you are hurting so deeply that no man understands you. The thing is, I find it rare that a majority of people can handle an individual who thinks highly of them themselves. Which is an interesting place to stand. Considering we live in a time where so many talk about self-love but you rarely see humans that actually physically, emotionally, and mentally embody this. It’s as if, we’re just quote producers for hallmark cards and we really aren’t that happy nor content with life.
Let’s go.
I am son to an abusive father (my oldest memories). Son to a brilliant, kind, healing mother. Brother to what I all most consider a son, named Clyde Moore. Brother to Zechariah Bracy, who in some ways reminds me of Cain from the bible, as we always fought to the death like him and Abel, as boys.
I have watched people die with my own eyes as a boy. I have had cousins and family murdered in the streets as a boy. I have almost been murdered on a multitude of accounts by police officers and white men.
Most would attempt to pray for me. Some would throw their arms around me. Excusing such a “terrible” life but what’s more terrible than a horrid past, is not learning from it. What is the purpose of surviving if not to evolve? In so many ways I’m completely unbothered by my past. Mom tried her best and killed it. Dad wasn’t there but it taught me to be a better man, and future father. I could probably raise my own kid because I spent so much time protecting Clyde. I take NO shit because I spent so much time fighting Zack.
That’s called perspective KIDS
Still, there are humans in this world (especially those refugees we interviewed) that have it far worse. Some, the last of their name, if they never reproduce. Some stuck in a system that could care less that their system is actually the reason for the dismantling of foreign soil.
Colonization disrupted these people’s lives and we have to start admitting this. We have to start talking about this. No one (YT people) want to discuss the fact that the reason their world is so beautiful is because they made ugly everyone else’s world. No trade off. No shame. No nothing.
The kicker being, most brown continents gave freely their goods to the West yet the west didn’t like their cut because they needed to have it all. (YT people) created the bomb, the machine guns, nukes, atomic weaponry, racist legislation, gender roles, shit education, the slums, ghettos, race, homophobia, capitalism, and a long list of other chilling aspects of this realm but can’t seem to understand why the world is fucked.
Even worse, (YT people) seem so unhappy. For what!? You own it all. You have it all. You are protected under a flag of white skin. Yet, you can’t seem to find your way.
Don’t take this as anger however if we’re going to talk about it, lets talk about it. For I have spent too long wondering as to why I had to cover up my brilliance and those like me had to do the same. It’s still very dangerous to be an intelligent nigga. Ask MLK, ask Hampton, Malcolm, ask Ali, ask Prince, ask Jackson, ask Lauryn Hill....DAVE CHAPPELE
If the (YT) world didn’t kill them, it destroyed their character and turned them into beast without tongues.
In closing, it’s not arrogance. It’s not an over inflated sense of ego. It’s perseverance. I survived, WE survived everything you have thrown at us. Dealing with the terrible turned me into everything that I am.
*Hands To Heart
What I Learned From Jean Michele Basquiat: Is Art A Labor of Love or A Suitable Career Choice?
I rarely look to tell another human how to live their life. While there have been instances where I felt that if I had not stepped in, I would have lost a friend to addiction or depression. However, I digress, that’s neither here nor there.
A matter in present day society that really concerns me is how much creatives complain. Complaining in general concerns me. I could assume that it is part of the developing mind. Maybe it's because I keep younger company although I'm 34 years of age. Whatever the issue, where I stand right now, I’m rather free of complaint. If a human wants to leave my life. Humans change, they should be allowed. Same goes for lovers, associates, jobs, colleagues.
A common question I’m asked about my evolving career from street performer to international projects of the “good works” is “how did you get all of this work, Resse?” and the short answer is, “I worked”.
Check my Instagram or Facebook (Tyresse Bracy) archives I have been doing the same thing for decades now. Before social media, I trained myself in dance in my bedroom. It was by fluke that I found myself dancing on the streets of Dublin, Ireland one rainy day with a violinist named David Loudin (I hope he’s doing brilliant because he opened my eyes to a world of possibilities).
So....Basquiat.
One of the quotes I remember most from reading the auto-biography of Basquiat was what he said to a lover. Basquiat, uncaring of his predicament before becoming a world-renowned neo-expressionist painter. Lived on the streets and sold book marks that he had marked up with his tag “SAMO” and other eccentric illustrations. In the company of his lover, he says “see you’re lucky. you have a proper career. If one job fires you, can put in a resume’ and be hired at another firm of you choosing. For me, if art doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out and maybe I die. It’s all I got” (or something to this affect).
Turns out, I was living this way 10 years prior to knowing anything about the guy. So, my misunderstanding with creatives that are so anti-capitalist in mind setting is, if this is indeed the case.
Why not do your art on the street?
Why not take the power out of the hands of huge corporations and work for yourself?
Why not use the free tools like Facebook & Instagram to promote your work and be totally free and independent of this system you have such distaste for?
I can’t tell you about your inner workings but I subscribe to the idea that most artist don’t hate capitalism like they say they do. Most artist fear learning business.
You don’t want to choose between the rave and your work.
You don’t wish to learn to network.
You don’t want to be told “no”.
This is rather saddening, considering all you have given up to be you. Now you’re ¼ way into the race and you can’t sit your brilliant ass down and learn how the art world actually works so you can stop struggling.
Most think manifestation is simply about thinking a good thought and that good thought materializes into our lives. This is only partially true. As the universe balances the energy we put out, it also works on frequency. How frequent we put ourselves out there, how frequent we ask for gigs, how frequent we compose and let go of our work to the world.
Not holding ourselves captive to our own brilliance.
Basquiat lived on those streets hella long. Working his way through the artsy districts of N.Y. selling bookmarks, until the day he stumbled upon Warhol. Another manifestation of Basquiat, as he always knew if he could get his foot in the door with Warhol and his art “factory”, it was off to the races.
Before Basquiat knew it, he was locked in “The Factory” doing heroin, cocaine and a balance of weed. He was a mad man, pumping out painting after painting, creating his own stretchers from scratch and selling them just as quickly as he created. He would send a painting upstairs and then 50k in cash would come down stairs to his pocket.
Over and over again.
He was now in the game.
Ha! Most think that drugs killed Basquiat and surely, they knocked his lights out but I do believe that it wasn’t that simple. It was the stress of him finding out he was selling his works for millions on the art market but receiving not even a fraction of compensation.
Basquiat didn’t wish to learn the business.
He didn’t want to learn about equity.
He didn’t want to sign contracts.
He just wanted to create.
It’s just not enough to just create, if you wish to have longevity in this the creative world. These companies can and will fuck you and throw you into the gutters if you let them. At this very moment in time, artists are in a unique time period in history. Where we have the tools, FREE tools to dismantle a world that uses our works as real-estate, instead of art. Yet, how would you know this if you never study. If you never open yourself up to how the world actually works.
It’s your world, you should know how it operates even if it pisses you off. Especially if it pisses you off. You can’t fight an oppressive system if you don’t understand the dynamics of oppression.
In closing, the answer to my question “Is Art A Labor of Love or A Suitable Career Choice?” in short......
BOTH.
Art will always be a labor of love. This is the grandeur of creation, we do it because we love it. Far before payment. It can also be a suitable career choice if you choose to learn the game.
*Hands To Heart*
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LONG LIVE SAMO
Love You Like I Knew You
How To Find Your Voice & Purpose Before You Die
How To Find Your Voice & Purpose Before You Die
In all honesty I don’t think that the governing bodies of the world really care so much as to what you do with your life. Especially if a majority or all of your life has been spent on the soft/regal lands of western society. However, if allowed I do think if given the opportunity the overlords of the “New World” order will trick you out of being the most honest version of you. Which in my eyes, in so many regards are far worse than just holding a bullshit job, as a fry dropper at White Castle (no offense to fast food workers. I hope you guys get every inch of that $15/hr).
Das thing ist, what are these vessels we call bodies without the soul? What is a road map that lacks destination? What are our purposes in life? Why are we here?
Even though I don’t have time/and am too insanely lazy to crack open that entire can of worms. I do however wish to share some tips on self-discovery to those humans that are open to it. To those humans that don’t mind feeding their brain for a second to make their lives better.
I studied dance at the University of Southern Mississippi. Like....all the dances, Ballet, Modern, Bartenieff, Composition, Notation, Contemporary, etc. Prior to University I studied in the hood; Hip Hop, Popping, you know....the street shit. If I’m to be honest (in which I always tend to be) being a student of a great institution pushed my movement leaps and bounds. It unfolded my creative muscles and put them back together in a more prominent fashion. In some regards I feel borderline unlimited in my dance because of this.
GRATITUDE USM
However, I can’t help but think (because I am such a lover of bohemian experiences) that I could have learned the same creative aspects in the world and not had to pay back $70,000 dollars (no worries, no need to start up a go fund me to save my financial soul from an abysmal Sallie Mae hell, my shit is paid). To put it mildly I believe the greatest teacher in life is experience, and experience’s bad ass stepchild.....failure.
To keep it light though, lets break our foot off in the ass of this list of life teachings I have uncovered throughout my life as a street artist and vagabond.
-Accountability.
I cannot preach this enough!
The chambered halls of the French catacombs cannot not echo this message enough. There’s something about simply accepting our own personal shortcomings in life as the fault of our own that redistributes our own personal power.
When we as humans are so quick to point the finger at the outside world. What actually occurs is that we give imminent domain over our lives to those who in most cases have no clue that we exist. Fall down alone and stand up alone. This isn’t to say, that we don’t require assistance in this life but it is to say that at the end of the day, YOU/WE have to get it done.
-Patience
The number of ex-students and humans that I speak to these days that are all under the age of 25 that are profoundly worried about their next step in life is staggering.
Like, it feels as if an entire society is standing above a frozen lake of thinning ice during the god damned Vegas summer. Honestly, I am 34 years of age now and literally have no clue what the fuck is happening around me at any moment. Even when I had decent paying jobs that secured my life. Outside of that, as an independent artist, life was/is forever shaky.
Life is forever changing.
So, I say this, take a deep breath, and accept all that the world is. Be grateful for all that you have but understand that you have all the time in the world fuck up and start anew. Contrary to popular belief, life is typically long and only getting longer for those of us in the West. New Medicine, better food, better health. I mean fuck, self-love is even being implemented into billion-dollar corporate jobs.
Shits hot!!
-Embrace Death
Most don’t wish to talk about the finite ideals of life but if you’re keeping it funky in this life, what is the true constant that everyone knows?
The short answer, is that everyone dies.
Everything must go....and that’s fine. In fact, the understanding that one day we will no longer be here can be the catalyst to your life. The flame to your cold ass Alaskan camping trip, that you had no business taking. A true savior.
The thing is, the universe doesn’t give a damn about life nor death. It doesn’t understand good, nor bad, angels nor devils. It works through chaos, and chance. So here you stand, a brilliant specimen that was sling shot across the galaxies to connect with an earthly body. The odds, a staggering 400 trillion to 1 that we are here. Please don’t waste it only focusing on the end or living in fear of life and progression.
Don’t kill yourself before it’s your time.
When it’s time to go it will be time to go. Until then maybe, just maybe “rage against the dying of the light”.
I love that quote.
-Make You Own Life
I mean this both very literally and creatively. For life is simply a big ass overpriced canvas and we are so fortunate as to be able manifest into this realm what we want and love. It doesn’t always have to be money, but it can be a few stacks here and there. Alas, what about travel? What about having brilliant cuisines in the jungles of third world countries? What about boxing a fucking kangaroo and completely dusting that nigga? ADVENTURE!!
Life is to be colorful. In my own opinion the world is far too vast to grow and to fade in the same place that you started. Nothing wrong with it but this planet and all of its grandeur belongs to everyone. NAMSAYIN? With that bit of understanding, there simply is no reason to go out into the land and look to conquer what is already yours. It’s simply waiting for you but first you must accept it.
On another note. Speaking of creativity. If by chance you are an artist for hirer in life like myself you probably understand how difficult it is to make a career of it. Especially in these creative seas that hold so many big artsy fish. So, I said all of that to say this, Make. Work. For. Yourself.
Be aware of your community. The mom and pops shops, restaurants, coffee shops, schools, that are looking to bring a new fresh up and coming artist to their establishment. To network and make “hip” their brick-and-mortar businesses. As a matter of fact, my first official show was done at a coffee shop in Mobile, Al that goes by the name Red Bar. Straight up, I simply walked in, asked the owner if I could do a dance show in his new establishment. He said “hell yea”. We set up a date, I invited everyone I knew and their mommas and we went HAM.
BEST MEMORY EVER. YOU CAN DO THIS TOO.....JUST GET OUT OF YOUR OWN WAY.
It’s rather counterproductive to give life tips and end by telling the readers to give up on listening to outside influences! BUT, that’s EXACTLY what the FUCK I’m about to do. Seriously, every human is in charge of their own happiness. Every man in charge of the scripting of his own story. One cannot create and edit at the same time. It’s impossible! Even your parents as best as they try to guide you, can never understand the innerworkings of your heart and mind, in full. Parents do their best and they’re lovely and cute in all their attempts to guide us but they are them and you are you.
Hands To Heart
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Netflix Sometimes Makes Good Things
Netflix sometimes makes good things.
My mother (Theresa Johnson), My uncles (Lydell Moore & Mayne) & Aunt (Wanda Sanders) stoopin with the late Muhammad Ali
Considering the new outrage of the treatment of POC people, or better yet, its ability to be highlighted on social media and spread like flame throughout the world....I don’t think they have a choice.
So last night I watched Drunk Off The Hog. Brilliant title, am I right? IYKYK. Especially to be named after such a useful southern phrase. This was special to me. It really is the small things, ain’t it. The show details the connective tissue between black cuisine in America and its connection back home. It speaks, better yet shouts of the resiliency of my people and how we always held the power through the tales of our food.
Saul Williams once said in his spoken word Amethyst Rock, “stealing us was the smartest thing they ever did. Too bad they don’t teach the same thing to their kids.” this bit of brilliance hit me like it was my first day watching def jam poetry as a child. I remember the moment I was MADE to feel proud as a human. Of my color. Of this shade. My ashy knees. I remember how monumental it made me feel to watch a human stand so tall and be so black and be so genius in front of the worlds t.v.
Saul is so fearless.
The host of this show is not Saul Williams. He is himself, however brilliant in his own right. Right before he departed West Africa, he stood on the beaches where our ancestors were last scene in Africa. They poured water over the soles of their feet to cool them as they stepped upon the slab of concrete to embrace what remained of the stolen souls. This chef in all his brilliance broke down but this strong black momma held him and told him to walk tall. I cried too. I wanted to be held by my big momma (my grandmother) but she lives in Alabama and I Berlin.
Anger gripped me, so did pride, so does happiness, relief, so does the feeling of vengeance, and exhaustion. At times I'm mostly just a cocktail of confused emotions towards my white counterparts. How you mother fuckers anger me with your overall laziness. With your arrogance. Your theft. Your fraudulent ways.
People of color really got stomped out. Some even extinct. The Tanzanians will never see the light of day again. They’re done. The Native Americans almost met the same fate, luckily the they were “allowed” a settlement.
At times I’m rather confused as to how I grew up to believe that me and my people were so lazy, and so foolish, and I believed it. All the while I digested you guy’s world. I learned how to move in it, how to talk your talk, walk like you guys walk, eat your shit fucking food, whisper, be depressed because you were.....and you know nothing about me. You know nothing about my people.
You don’t even question how it is you and yours get to live so well, or how your people have such an inheritance? Or why you have family businesses dating back 100’s of years and your black homies don’t?
Or why blacks and browns are so terrified of dogs, cops, huge bodies of water, why they put their heads down in the face of white authority? You don’t think about this shit?
Why not?
Why doesn’t it bother you that the people you fuck and suck, and steal from, and make money off of, and dick ride are so fucked up and you are so “good”?
Why are you so comfortable sitting on your asses or marching once out of 400 years for us while we take bullets in the streets?
Then you have the nerve to say that we are just one people. I don’t understand how...
Please explain to a nigga, how we are the same and if I’m smarter, more educated, “artsier”, etc, etc, etc, how I end up catching the bullet, prison, or military and you get the Ivy League?
Make it make sense.
This Is What I Wrote In My Diary At 530AM In Berlin
This Is What I Wrote In My Diary At 530AM In Berlin
Life is rather serendipitous these days, to say the least.
Most days I must excuse myself from the presence of others just to go take deep breaths. Sometime I even take off into the world on long jog/sprints. Just to root myself into this moment. At times this new found energy feels as if it longs to vibrate me off the planet.
This new found energy.
I’ve heard of it.
I’ve heard before a recount on the times in an person’s life when they knew they were at success’ door (whatever success means to a human).
These days I whisper about my actions more so than yell them. I wouldn’t have anyone make off with the energy required to maintain them. To be honest I wouldn’t relinquish this new found awareness for these future paychecks at all. It’s some type of sorcery to have this sight but most are so afraid to age to get here that they end up missing the necessary lessons to gain it.
To each their own.
All of these years humans have spent in wonder of magic. In love with the tales of Harry Potter, so much so that they rode brooms to the movie theatre on opening day. Quite funnily are the same humans that turn their back on the magic of this realm. The magic of their life. Their very own spells and wishes. Its all here.
Its always here.
All the time.
I also, am just a madman running around saying thanks these days. Which isn’t proper form for a place like Berlin or better yet most of Northern Europe. On of my main quarrels is that no one believes the nice guy act here. Or even believes that Southern charm to have ever existed at all. The lack of emotion in eyes of most humans walking the strasse or galleries is quite offensive to all that I am. Apparently to even speak kindly beyond this bit of opaque nature is a breach in cultural contract.
The Northern Europeans call it culture.
I think not speaking to humans you’re in close proximity of to be rude….and that’s just my god damned stance on that.
To each their own
I left home so many times and so long ago that I really have no recollection of the year I left, or truly how long I’ve been gone. I’m not a human for birthdays or holidays so I’m and entire trashcan at keeping up with the times.
Leaving home was out of necessity I hope my peers, my family, my associates and friends know this. I always speak of the magic that lie in Alabama and I hope you know this as well?
The kindness, the culinary arts, the Oak Trees, the summer thunder storms, the Gulf, the pace, the closeness of community and humans….
Le sigh, these days my work has become more than a thing of personal passion. As it shall always be this. I now turn most of my energy to the salvation of others. Those that look like me. Those that share similar aesthetic traits as I. Sometimes the refugees’ stories are so identical to mine I wonder if life for black people is simply fucked up no matter what continent we grew up on.
What I do know is, I’m happy that my humble street performances around the land have led me to “the good stuff”. This is “the work”. I can’t speak for every artist but there’s not too many better feelings that getting paid to create. However, an even greater feeling is being paid to create while saving the lives and speaking up for those humans who cannot do it for themselves.
Hmmm. My time is here…
I’m just grateful.
Hands To Heart
Black People Never Leave
Black
People
Never
Leave
Or they rarely do, especially in concerns to those that grew up on the dirt roads of the south. The same southern towns that had one package store where you purchased your gas, groceries, and fried chicken from, in one stop. Shit some times you could buy your clothes there as well.
I used to hide the fact that I’m Southern born.
Lets be honest, most humans of the world, think it to be the throw away landmass of fools, red necks, and cousin fuckers. Hahaha and it do be that. Lets keep it a buck!
However the South is where the first bits of genius happened for the U.S. (Well…after they stole all of the Africans from Africa to build an entire nation for free and then left us to die….but lets not go there. I digress). The genius of the south is that everything that the world holds so dear. Originated with us. Rock, Country, Blues, all of the alphas of American culture are southern. And by default the South is also the creator of the Hip Hop culture as well.
The biggest culture. That this world loves so very much.
The thing, is being the key holder of a black body is complex for numerous reasons. Colorism for starters, I grew up Nigerian black, with “nappy”/kinky hair. Into a family of black Americans half mixed with Native American blood. So my siblings hold hostage 360 waves on their skulls and bronze skin. And I…..I was and am my mothers chocolate baby
You get picked on, for this.
You get shit on, for this.
You try to wash your skin off, for this.
At 5 or so my mother began to prep me for a racist world. At 5 I was learning how not to be killed by a random white male on those dirt roads, or a random white male Sheriff on those dirt roads. Both were/and are equally dangerous, in the eyes of black culture. This was my life. Learning how to negotiate war, while still figuring out how walk properly. I was and am my mothers chocolate baby.
The darker the baby, the more dangerous.
However, I digress, the complexities of my continued trauma also stem from my ability to see spirits. This has always been a thing in my life. A well hidden aspect of my life. As not to be lumped in the facebook groups of the Urban Outfitter crystal buyers, I simply never tell a soul. No competition at all, to be “more spiritual than the next” but we aint the same.
”I AINT ONE OF THEMMMMMM”
Hahahaha ok ok….focus Resse
Ghosts have always been part of my existence; when I rest, on romantic dates, hanging with friends. I see the energy they bring with them and that energy that surrounds them….and I just will and deal, I accept it.
My guy, I grew up in Alabama and nobody wants to here about some lil chocolateboymanwitch, that dances with poltergeist. That equates to beatings. To the bible. A preacher that “heals and exercises you” but also steals the rest of yo momma’s money for his services. No thanks.
Black people never leave…..
And I left. Frolicking now through these streets of Europe for the better part of 10 years now. Even with all of my artistic and creative accomplishments that I bring my family, my bloodline. There are members in my family that still question my blackness.
The last I was challenged, it was with the question “why Europe, why not Atlanta”?
Well in quick, the answer is, why not?
The loaded response, the crafty, sassy, well pondered and reflected upon answer is…I need to speak to the man that holds the keys to this very white owned and imbalanced plain of existence. And that NIGGA dont live in Georgia. The Earth must be unearth at the source of Ancestral trauma, and this AINT in Georgia neither! In Europe I’m making black SOUTHERN art. Speaking for the lives stolen from many on the council of the millionaire art dealers. Telling and talking truth to them that they thought I forgot when I signed these contracts.
This. Ain’t. In. GEORGIA.
Le sigh…truly it is enough to just be an esteemed creator in black form, and clout is cute, but Im going for BROKE; for Basquiat, Saul Williams, Mos Def, I want a Bracy-Toscani Estate. FUCK the nonsense. And I want it where I want to fucking have it! I want it in the face of her majesty that broke my ancestor’s backs and forgot why she’s able to live to “upscale”.
The first man through the door. I am the first man through the door in my family. A body amassed with arrows, riddled with bullets. My hands hold my own blood. So that those who share the blood that runs in me, will never have to unlearn the things I learned on those Alabama dirt roads.
SOMETIME BLACK PEOPLE LEAVE
Philp Pitacas I Art Is A Pain In The Ass I @phellieppe
What does it mean to be a creative and artist?
Also, what does it mean to have control over your creations as and independent artist?
”That’s a good question because mostly its a blessing and whole lot of pain in the ass. Because on one hand I have relative freedom depending on the collaborations and the people that I work with. I have the relative freedom to do whatever I want with my art and what I want to do WITHIN my art. With the things I want to explore and what I’m interested in and materials, and all that. That freedom of course is a huge blessing but is sad at the same time. I am then lacking the environment of having and ongoing exchange with other people. Whether you work in a collective or a group.
Alas, it’s always the dichotomy between being independent or in a group. But I think so far it’s working out fine. I’m not in a bad place. I hope this covers it. I hope you’re well. I hope you stay healthy. Love you. When I’m vaccinated I will come to berlin and then I can see you again. Stay safe.”
The BeautifulMind Brand LLC came to life in the country but tropical city of Mobile, Al. All the same the C.E.O., dancer, writer, vagabond, busker, came to life in Northern, Germany. A long way from the gulf shores of Alabama I found my soul and body in and upon the streets of Flensburg, Germany. My voice was found there. My ideas. My warrior soul.
As a busker, you are at its essence an independent artist/creative. What seems maddening to most; the gambling on creative skill, good health, and nice passer byers to exchange money for good energy. Is enough to make any everyday man or woman question the your mental fortitude. That is the beauty of this art form, I suppose. Peering always into the madness that is the social condition and simply going the other way.
Sometimes I wonder how it is he found me.
I rarely had a phone that was connected to wifi. In fact I never organized a prepaid sim card, nor plan with Germany’s Tmobil. I loved/love this about adventure. Getting lost amongst this plain of existence with nothing but yourself and your senses to guide you.
However I digress, Philip a teenager then, (me in my mid 20’s) always found me. He always arrived at my side. We would chat. He would draw and paint, as I moved. At times he would even give me adjectives or missions to complete before my Beats By Dre Boombox depleted batteries.
He’s my sidekick.
It truly is an honor at this moment and times in life (pandemic or not) to provide him and a host of other independent creatives a medium to showcase soul.
Hands to Heart
BeautifulMindBrand.com
Resse
Whats In Your Art Bag?
Typically no man, gets to peak in „the bag“ but I will allow this one time glance into the unicorn realm that is, my street art case!
-Top left corner, is the case (obviously). Some years back I was wandering the musty corridors of Ross, in Mobile, Al and I trip over this BEAUT! Eiffel Towers, Bridges, exotic women on bikes, paint the scene on this badboy! And for $19.95, it was an easy buy.
-Below the sexy case, lies the forever classic, sold into discontinue-oum, Beatbox by Dre. I remember Kennenth Eady purchased this for me right before a tour and he let me pay him back in installments. A good friend he is.
-Next, an IPad that I put my size 13 foot (47 EU) through, one drunken and sloppy night. I didn’t have my night visions on and this is my payment! This baby can hold a whole bunch of Spotify songs, and that’s...about it! Fuck Apple!
-20 Dollar tripod that holds the SEX. Also known as my Sony ax5100. I love this camera for many reasons. It just does what it’s suppose to do....
so married it!
-Oyeah! There’s an auxiliary chord atop the shit-Box-pad. Fuck Apple!
-Below, rest a collage. I also refer to this as „my calling card“, as most people rarely use business cards! This puppy here really draws in the eyes. Getchu one!
-Akuma beads by @plethura
-6 Rechargeable D batteries because I’m a big boy now and buying 3 packs of D batteries every morning from the Euro store just ain’t the move! Besides they would only last like 1 hour and be done! I dance to entire albums. I can’t be back and forth to the mall dripping sweat and shit...nein!
I hope this post helped you get your rocks off because I sure did. Don’t be shy, it’s cool to understand where you as a supporter are buying art from me!
Always more transparent than the U.S. government,
Resse.
Hearts&Shit
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Comment below to and tell me what’s in you’re art bag!?
BeautifulMindBrand.com
Collage T-Shirt Concepts: How I Arrive At An Idea!
-Limited Edition Collage T-Shirt- 100/100 The concept was rather easy actually. All photos were “in action” shots caught by boy genius Philip Pitacas . He’s followed me since I first stepped foot on German soil and I him. I call him genius because he is. Like, he’s a literal sleeper in the art world and I’m so excited for the world to wake up to him. The mission is to put art onto shirts. I’ve always struggled with the HOW....for like 8 years. So much so, that I had a mental break down and was forced to take a one year break. How will we put dance, art, onto a T-Shirt!? He began to roll out these collages, he made in his free time, of when I performed in Berlin and I said....”this is IT”! We’re only selling 100. So when they’re gone. We move on to the next collage. Like a collectors item! ❤️🦍❤️🦍 BeautifulMindBrand.Com
Duality. Accept it.
The word of the day is duality.
Before this whole “I’m a spiritual rose dancing in the wind” movement, there was duality. Duality simply means we are ALL both angel and demon; animal and man, killers and lovers, blah blah blah.
I found within myself, I tend to struggle with my ego, when I falsify having erased ego.
To better understand ego, we need to understand what ego is at its core. Ego, in laments terms simply means you have worth. You are worthy of proper hygiene. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of this existence.
Too much, too little throws the human soul and body out of whack. Hence the term, egoistic.
As a soul operating the functions of this vehicle, we call a body, I’d be a liar to say and assume that I want nothing to do with Earths pleasures. If this was the case what would be the point of being part of this world. Why be here if not to experience all there is worth experiencing?
Like I said, it’s all about balance. In the morning, I write, I pray, I focus my energy on being solid. Being a giver more than I receive.
When the sun settles and makes its last call, I become more beast that man; maybe I go fuck, maybe I talk some shit, maybe I get SAUCED, maybe I plot to be a millionaire in 5 years.
The point I wish to arrive at is this. We must be all things. Less we struggle with our ego, our spirit, our duality. There are no more full blooded angels walking this Earth. Besides my mother.....
Break Your Own Heart Before You Compromise
Break your own heart before you compromise. In an effort not be a consumer of time, I write direct. My words are composed to keep down the what if’s and buts that lead to toxic debate.
In a realm where everyone is skipping line to find a mold to fit into, we seldom ask what it is we left behind. What it is we want to outside of this venomous capitalistic system. Being that I was once a man stuck in the ever revolving hamster wheel of a cyclone. I learned that the things that I loved, if leaned on, if sharpened would set me free.
The game rarely changes.
It’s always a case of choosing either money before happiness or vice versa. Stand your fucking ground! Make rules for you to guide you into calmer waters. Let go of do nothing homies. Even forget the doubts of family. Because what’s a world, a society, over run with humans that cant find happiness....a poisonous sphere.
Everyone wants to answer the age old question of „where to find happiness“ and they set out in search of it, in partners, in shit jobs, in objects, when you’ve known since a child what would carry you to heaven.
Answer your calling.
Break your own heart before you compromise.
Is Romantic Love The Answer?
Love can do some remarkable things.
I've read articles where humans have lifted cars to save the injured. Love is the reason Harriet Tubman risked life and limb. I've even watched a few National Geographic shows where mother gazelles have thrown themselves into the mouth of predators to death for life, to save their newborns.
Love is a wild thing. Most scientist can't even quantify it, yet they believe it's power.
So.
Is Romantic Love an addition to life or does it steal from us?
The answer is (at least for me) both.
Everywhere I look. Every piece of content I inhale. There's someone preaching about what it takes to find true love but in this generation (although we have a population of around 8billion) there seems to be a shortage of compliant partners. So many breakups. So many hookups just to never hookup again.
I'm no guru on romance but I am a quick study of life and society. I'm just an aesthetic learner in this regard.
What I see in this life are the many in search of the world outside while maintaining a neglectful nature for all things internal. When it's their internal dialogue that's going to bring them to love in their waking life and rarely the opposite.
It's one thing to preach about self love but it's simply not enough to post about it. Who shows up for YOU when you're trying to showup for everyone else.
What we do know about love is that in most cases it's completely irrational; the laws that it breaks, and the sacrifices that we make for love, don't always add up for those looking in but it feels oh so heavenly to us.
While I'll never tell a human how to love nor be loved. I do believe there is a right and wrong time to be in love. Sometimes what we need are more hours of configuring who we are as individuals not for the sake finding a perfect match but for the sake of understanding what we are capable of receiving before that package ever lands on our doorstep.
So.
Is romantic love really the answer?
The answer varies but I do think we stand a better chance at finding ourselves in our partners if we know what we're looking for to being with.
*Hands to heart*
P.S.
Letters From A Traveler V: Getting The Bag As An Indie Artist drops May 11th.
Alongside some dope retro gear and discounts for weekend buyers.
So do yourself a favor and signup for the newsletter. So ya know, what's what!!
Compromise In Romance.
A brief follow up!!
Read if you're only happy on the weekends.
⚡🦍⚡
I just think that so many humans worry about the wrong things.
For instance, if at all times you are worried about the outside world, more so than you focus on the internal one, you'll never be happy.
You'll run behind failed love. You'll never complete your own tasks. Family will drive you crazy. You'll always be self degrading.
It's ok to worry about you, man. Who else is going to do it for you? At a certain point in time no one is going to hold your hand. There won't be any mom's chicken noodle soup to help you get over a shit day.
So learn while you can, to find the beauty in you. Before you build shit habits that are moreso difficult to tare down. I'm never bitching at the listeners. I just know what I know because I've done the therapy route. I've done the pharmaceutical route. I've done the self medication route.....and I'm just here to help.
Do what feels good to you. It's ok to be the odd man out. Especially in a world where so many are only happy on Friday and Saturday. What a shit life!!!
BeautifulMindBrand.com/shop/
Ich liebe es
T R A V E L B L O G (👑🦍)
I've been doing the same thing, since I was 7.
Dancing.
I've been doing the same thing every summer, for 6 years.
Street performing.
•I've been jumped by nazis; which gave me a cool scar, a chipped tooth, and fracture hip (it was a dope fight)
•I've had money and clothing stolen from my brand. Multiple times. Hence me mostly working alone these days.
•Had two major break ups on the road. Fuck'em. I'd rather be making art, howling at the moon, while I drink me whiskey.
•Been detained by the queen of England. No lie. By order of the queen I was held for 19 hours then shipped (like luggage) back to Denmark.
•Sprinted across London with this very suitcase (pictured). This suitcase is my lifeline. I know that I can literally go anywhere in the world and make money.
•Made love in some extrodinary places. Like all over the world. It's been dope. •Travel to 12 countries once with only 125 dollars in my pocket but I told my mom I had more. I've actually done this more than once.
Not bragging not boasting. It's just that I want to be so proud of my life when the day is over that I die with the biggest of smiles. I don't have fucking time to be worried about silly nuances of the world.
If things work themselves out, AWESOME! If they don't, then that's it.
*HANDS TO HEART*
15.4.19
Who Should Love You Most.
Why not love you, for everything?
It's important. There are so many minute parts to us. Bits and pieces, sharp edges that we can never truly verbalize to the next....but they exist. You have to love these parts of you.
Yes. They'll probably forever go unnoticed by the world but they shouldn't go unnoticed by you.
You fall. Love you. You make a mistake. Love you. You fail. Love you. You succeed. Love you.
I'm telling you this because if you don't love you.... you're just going to consistently damage yourself. You're just going to consistently be the ugly we all "claim" to hate so much about this world.
*Hands To Heart*
My Story
As a boy, I was raised on dirt roads and pecan pies, in Grand Bay, Alabama. It's what I knew. They're what i learned. My mother nurtured me in a way that kept me clueless to what the outside world really had in-store for me. Like, I knew how to survive in the woods but I could not survive a conversation....let alone start one. I was shy in that way.
I knew art though.
I knew poetry. I knew drawing. I knew painting. I knew singing. Dancing wasn't a thing until I fest up to it at a pep rally in high school.
In all honesty, I didn't meet my first real friend until high school. I think, I was 13 when I met Brett Garrick and I thought he was the most rebellious human I had ever met. He introduced me into chaos....in a way. Something I really needed to learn. And I guess I taught him the art of chill....but I digress.
Prior to high school, there were no friends... I wasn't funny, i didn't have muscles, I wasn't good with women, nothing, etc. Everything that I am now, I learned. I taught myself.... The thing is, being alone is dope. I get it. I can even feel it trying to pull me back in most days and I'm tempted to run away into the night and chill in a homemade fort made of pillows and sheets, until the stars call me home.... but it's just not how the world works.
EVERYTHING I learned, everything I taught to me is basic for MY survival.
I taught myself how to be funnier because it makes me charismatic.
I taught myself how to talk to women because I love and will need a good woman, one day.
I taught myself how to hold a conversation because you literally can not do a damned thing in life without communication.
Anywho..... You may be where you are and where you are might not be where you wish to be but you can always fix that shit.
If that's what you want.
Anywho, that's my #TEDTALK
HOW I TRAVEL ON A BUDGET
CONNECTIVITY. A FAVORITE TOPIC OF MINE.