Nobody told me that after writing a book, you go through a period of not feeling motivated to write. Other than my piece about the Inauguration, I honestly have had to push myself to keep blogging, to keep writing, to keep posting comments on Facebook. To stay connected.
Today, I did something different. I took my camera and recorded my video for my landing page on my website. I typed up a new 60 second script and stepped in front of the camera. Very impromptu. I didn't have my hair did the way I plan to. I didn't put on any makeup. I just went for it.
There were so many takes that after a while I had my script almost memorized. I was able to look into the camera and speak from my heart.
Certain things I've taken notice of that I want to take care not to do with my video. One, I don't want it beyond 1 minute. I've gone to various websites and some videos just go on and on. My attention span is not that long, I must say. I'm not ADHD, but I just think to myself "get to the point." So, note to self: get to the point.
Secondly, I want to have that high definition look to my video. I don't want it to be just a white or beige wall behind me. Does nothing for the quality of the video. Some color is needed. I want vibrant colors. I want my video to pop. Doesn't matter that I am using a digital camera. I want a quality 60 seconds.
Thirdly, I want my surroundings, my outfit, my makeup, my hair, everything to be authentic. Unless I'm talking about cooking, I don't want the kitchen to be my background. Sure, the bathroom and the kitchen seem to have the best lighting. But neither place was the right place. So I looked around my house and did some takes around the piano. That was authentic but not much color. My squat spot eventually was right beside my bookshelf. I have this really nice afrocentric picture so I found a great spot between the picture and the bookshelf. Also, I held the camera in one hand and looked directly into it. It think I connected more.
I'm gonna keep practicing until I get it down. The more comfortable I get, the more my personality comes out. That's what I have. It's enough.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
Inauguration 2013
As I watch Colin Powell's interview on GMA's Inauguration 2013 coverage against the backdrop of a racially diverse choir singing, "this land is your land, this land is my land.....this land was made for you and me," I remember where I was at the first inauguration. I had just been released from the hospital. I had demanded it actually. You see, after a groove session with my then-boyfriend, my pelvis locked and I was in a great deal of pain. It had been a little over a year since my hysterectomy so I thought I was free and clear to assume a normal life. Obviously I wasn't.
I had been in the hospital for a couple of days, going through a battery of tests as the source of my pain could not be found. The doctors were baffled. I was miserable. Yet, I had the support of the smiling faces of my friends and couldn't help but laugh and be uplifted by them. I have to acknowledge the devotion of my sister, Meshelle Taylor, who with a soldier's heart wasn't going to let me be left behind. She stayed with me and questioned the doctors and nurses until I was moved to a private room at around 3 o'clock in the morning. I'll never forget that.
So here I was, propped up on pillows with my cell phone in one hand and my laptop on my lap. Having taken some pretty effective pain killers, I watched, cried, texted and sent out messages all day. So proud. So touched. So moved. Now, as I prepare for some girlfriends to come over to watch this second Inauguration with me, I'm even more moved. Despite a difficult first four years, where many who helped him get elected questioned whether he was the man for the job, we are about to witness THE man for the job being sworn in for a second time.
I think about Martin Luther King Day and the parallels. Many of us, I think, have forgotten that Dr. King was a polarizing figure. He wasn't welcomed. He was mocked. He was called a Communist. He was called a Socialist. He was called uppity and a troublemaker. He led many crowds, this is true, but there were also people of color that resented him for "stirring the pot." Things were bad, yes; but they were familiar and here he was messing with the system. There were those who felt he didn't need to do that. That he wouldn't be successful. There were those of his own race who said in their hearts that he was a problem. People who use to smile and nod at them were now crossing to the other side of the street. Their safety was threatened. Their children were being harassed. They were being fired from jobs because of this "troublemaker." So many parallels. Opposition from political giants, party fights and muscle flexing, egos gone wild. As if that wasn't enough, spending nights in jail, attacked by dogs, even a cross burned on his own front lawn and still he was clear on a nonviolent demonstration. To some, he was a punk. To other, she was a hero.
Change never comes without a cost. Our people have to learn that. You don't turn-coat when things get tough, you press in. I didn't elect President Obama as a Savior. I didn't elect him as a perfect man. I know in my heart, this is his time. This is his hour. This is his season. And like Martin, some things won't be celebrated until after his term is over.
And so, I salute President Obama today and his spirit guides Martin Luther King and Abraham Lincoln and those who have gone on before whose stories were never told. I am moved to live the dream in every decision I make and by choosing freedom amidst all who tell me I should chose otherwise.
I had been in the hospital for a couple of days, going through a battery of tests as the source of my pain could not be found. The doctors were baffled. I was miserable. Yet, I had the support of the smiling faces of my friends and couldn't help but laugh and be uplifted by them. I have to acknowledge the devotion of my sister, Meshelle Taylor, who with a soldier's heart wasn't going to let me be left behind. She stayed with me and questioned the doctors and nurses until I was moved to a private room at around 3 o'clock in the morning. I'll never forget that.
So here I was, propped up on pillows with my cell phone in one hand and my laptop on my lap. Having taken some pretty effective pain killers, I watched, cried, texted and sent out messages all day. So proud. So touched. So moved. Now, as I prepare for some girlfriends to come over to watch this second Inauguration with me, I'm even more moved. Despite a difficult first four years, where many who helped him get elected questioned whether he was the man for the job, we are about to witness THE man for the job being sworn in for a second time.
I think about Martin Luther King Day and the parallels. Many of us, I think, have forgotten that Dr. King was a polarizing figure. He wasn't welcomed. He was mocked. He was called a Communist. He was called a Socialist. He was called uppity and a troublemaker. He led many crowds, this is true, but there were also people of color that resented him for "stirring the pot." Things were bad, yes; but they were familiar and here he was messing with the system. There were those who felt he didn't need to do that. That he wouldn't be successful. There were those of his own race who said in their hearts that he was a problem. People who use to smile and nod at them were now crossing to the other side of the street. Their safety was threatened. Their children were being harassed. They were being fired from jobs because of this "troublemaker." So many parallels. Opposition from political giants, party fights and muscle flexing, egos gone wild. As if that wasn't enough, spending nights in jail, attacked by dogs, even a cross burned on his own front lawn and still he was clear on a nonviolent demonstration. To some, he was a punk. To other, she was a hero.
Change never comes without a cost. Our people have to learn that. You don't turn-coat when things get tough, you press in. I didn't elect President Obama as a Savior. I didn't elect him as a perfect man. I know in my heart, this is his time. This is his hour. This is his season. And like Martin, some things won't be celebrated until after his term is over.
And so, I salute President Obama today and his spirit guides Martin Luther King and Abraham Lincoln and those who have gone on before whose stories were never told. I am moved to live the dream in every decision I make and by choosing freedom amidst all who tell me I should chose otherwise.
Friday, January 18, 2013
So much for our little snow event. From where I'm looking, there is no evidence of it. The roads have that soaked gloss but even the water has been lapped up by the sunshine. Oh well.
It's been three weeks. So much is happening in my life. Sadly, I spent the latter half of last week helping my mom as her husband of 9 years passed away. It was interesting to me that my mom was most concerned about others, not herself. It is of no surprise though. My mom has always put others before herself. I find it one of her most admirable qualities. Of course, her child would. However, the now grown daughter only wants her to enjoy her remaining years.
It's these kinds of profound life events that bring perspective to your life. I am 53 which at age 11 seemed ancient. Almost fossil-like, actually. Surprisingly, except for puffy eyes and a few wisps of lines across my forehead, I think I look pretty good. That's just typography though. My Wiser Self knows that time is precious and the clock is ticking.
Reinforces for me how I want to spend my time. I work. I love to work. This season of life however has been about how I work. I know that doing one thing all the time becomes mundane. I like the eclectic nature of my lifeforce. What lifes me is the freedom of picking and choosing. I like the project nature of things. That's the entrepreneur in me. Certainly I know the city I live in: administrative, music and coaching. But there are so many avenues. So many streets I can take to get from Point A to Point B. That's what I like. I get to choose my path. I'm working hard to get to that freedom of choice: if it resonates with me, I do it: if it doesn't, I don't.
That's why I'm thankful for my Business Strategist. She understands how I work. She is pulling out my marketable qualities to create products that will give me a steady stream of revenue. That's so important. Most of us entrepreneurs do our thing without having a strong financial foundation to stand on. We end up getting in goo gobs of debt and constantly having to chase the next moneymaking involvement--whether it rings true or not. This is not why we do what we do. We want freedom. That's the whole point. So, I'm grateful for the vision she brings.
In fact, part of that vision is my book. Yep, I'm writing a book. My Business Strategist gave me 30 days to get it done. For some, this might be impossible; but not me. I am ready, willing and able for the challenge. To that end, I'll say goodbye for now. Got lots to do!!!
Latta.
It's been three weeks. So much is happening in my life. Sadly, I spent the latter half of last week helping my mom as her husband of 9 years passed away. It was interesting to me that my mom was most concerned about others, not herself. It is of no surprise though. My mom has always put others before herself. I find it one of her most admirable qualities. Of course, her child would. However, the now grown daughter only wants her to enjoy her remaining years.
It's these kinds of profound life events that bring perspective to your life. I am 53 which at age 11 seemed ancient. Almost fossil-like, actually. Surprisingly, except for puffy eyes and a few wisps of lines across my forehead, I think I look pretty good. That's just typography though. My Wiser Self knows that time is precious and the clock is ticking.
Reinforces for me how I want to spend my time. I work. I love to work. This season of life however has been about how I work. I know that doing one thing all the time becomes mundane. I like the eclectic nature of my lifeforce. What lifes me is the freedom of picking and choosing. I like the project nature of things. That's the entrepreneur in me. Certainly I know the city I live in: administrative, music and coaching. But there are so many avenues. So many streets I can take to get from Point A to Point B. That's what I like. I get to choose my path. I'm working hard to get to that freedom of choice: if it resonates with me, I do it: if it doesn't, I don't.
That's why I'm thankful for my Business Strategist. She understands how I work. She is pulling out my marketable qualities to create products that will give me a steady stream of revenue. That's so important. Most of us entrepreneurs do our thing without having a strong financial foundation to stand on. We end up getting in goo gobs of debt and constantly having to chase the next moneymaking involvement--whether it rings true or not. This is not why we do what we do. We want freedom. That's the whole point. So, I'm grateful for the vision she brings.
In fact, part of that vision is my book. Yep, I'm writing a book. My Business Strategist gave me 30 days to get it done. For some, this might be impossible; but not me. I am ready, willing and able for the challenge. To that end, I'll say goodbye for now. Got lots to do!!!
Latta.
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