Crazy for colour ? Its Shradha, a.k.a Limbs rocking an outfit as she always does in an orange tube top teamed up with a purple skirt and that clutch. One word... sexy! as always Limbs, loving your work!
Saturday, 20 June 2009
Thursday, 4 June 2009
African Adhesive part 2......
Where i am from, the sun shines brightly. And sometimes a little too brightly for me. I feel the scorch almost pierce my soul and from the sun, i can hide nothing. Only ofcourse at night when i creep out of my hut to visit Adansi, but even then i swear the moons tells of my infidelity to the sun, because come morning it is back with a vengance, and unlike my wife not as forgiving.
The water in the town well has dried up and it is the women, proud bearers of our seeds who have gone in search of the creator's natural drink. In the meantime the men will go out and hunt. But i lie, for the men are all gathered under a big dree drinking palm wine. We will sit there, talk, fight, make merry and get drunk. That is until our wives return and scold us for not venturing into the woods. We will slap their bottoms and drag them into our huts in attempts to stifle the tirades which will inevitably ensue. The women like to think they are the adhesive that hold us together, but we know it is us, the proud warriors that feed, clothe and protect our world.....without us they are nothing.
I break away in attempts to clear my air and indeed hear myself think for it is impossible when draga begins to tell tales about his wife's many talents. Everyone laughs not because they think it isnt so, but because they know it isnt so. At present, my dilemma threatens to consume me and i am exhausted simply thinking about it. Adansi's words keep ringing in my ear and i am still in shock that she carries my seed. I should be happy that my family is expanding and that i will hopefully finally have a son who can work on my farm. But Adansi does not belong to me and i have no licence to marry her. However, as quickly as the thought of my trouble enters my head it is gone and replaced by the image of her beautiful face. I erase the smile budding at the tips of my lips and replace it with my warrior's scowl. I sigh, tomorow will take care of itself, a warrior can never worry.
And with resolve to tend to the matter later, i re join my pack. The smell of manliness has never been as apparent as it is to me now, surrounded by my tribesmen. The treadmills of the ground have turned our thighs into tree trunks and our arms into merely connecting bulges of strength. We are men, pure and simple. But even as we sit together, we are unaware that a storm is brewing, one which we can neither out run nor pierce with our swords. For me, my storm is imminent and where I am from the sun shines brightly and although it the life that makes our plants grow and makes our children smile, it is a constant reminder that we cannot hide, we are always being watched.
The water in the town well has dried up and it is the women, proud bearers of our seeds who have gone in search of the creator's natural drink. In the meantime the men will go out and hunt. But i lie, for the men are all gathered under a big dree drinking palm wine. We will sit there, talk, fight, make merry and get drunk. That is until our wives return and scold us for not venturing into the woods. We will slap their bottoms and drag them into our huts in attempts to stifle the tirades which will inevitably ensue. The women like to think they are the adhesive that hold us together, but we know it is us, the proud warriors that feed, clothe and protect our world.....without us they are nothing.
I break away in attempts to clear my air and indeed hear myself think for it is impossible when draga begins to tell tales about his wife's many talents. Everyone laughs not because they think it isnt so, but because they know it isnt so. At present, my dilemma threatens to consume me and i am exhausted simply thinking about it. Adansi's words keep ringing in my ear and i am still in shock that she carries my seed. I should be happy that my family is expanding and that i will hopefully finally have a son who can work on my farm. But Adansi does not belong to me and i have no licence to marry her. However, as quickly as the thought of my trouble enters my head it is gone and replaced by the image of her beautiful face. I erase the smile budding at the tips of my lips and replace it with my warrior's scowl. I sigh, tomorow will take care of itself, a warrior can never worry.
And with resolve to tend to the matter later, i re join my pack. The smell of manliness has never been as apparent as it is to me now, surrounded by my tribesmen. The treadmills of the ground have turned our thighs into tree trunks and our arms into merely connecting bulges of strength. We are men, pure and simple. But even as we sit together, we are unaware that a storm is brewing, one which we can neither out run nor pierce with our swords. For me, my storm is imminent and where I am from the sun shines brightly and although it the life that makes our plants grow and makes our children smile, it is a constant reminder that we cannot hide, we are always being watched.
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
African Adhesive Part 1..........my new piece. Enjoy!
Where I am from the sun shines brightly almost everyday. Its majestic rays are not just a beacon of hope for my people but a punishing scorch on our backs. Our lives are filled with depth however, from the multi-coloured beads we wear on our proud breasts to the many trinkets that caress our ankles. Shoes? What shoes? The cracks under my feet are a map of my travels, each line a tale a thousand words couldn't tell. But in the proud sway of my hips and the fullness of my lips you wouldnt guess my suffering.
The water in the town well has dried up, and the closest source of water is a few miles off. The women and I will travel for it is our duty, proud bearers of children we are truly the adhesive that binds our world together. So we will pick up our buckets and such and we will sing tales of warriors past and in unison our feet will tell tales. Our husbands will bid us goodbye and we will bow to their feet as custom expects, knowing that at night time, it is always us that has the upper hand.The younger girls stay and watch our babies. The journey is tiresome but we will prevail. Animals lurk in the bushes tongues dribbling as they smell us approach, but as always we will prevail.
The conversation will flow and Adama will probably tell us for the hundreth time how large her husband's manhood is, we will all wink knowingly to each other, not because we think it isnt so, but because we know it isnt so. We approach the river cautiously and when we do get there and move as quietly as we can because we know the tales our grandfathers have told us about the people who never returned. We hear a rustle and like the goddesses that watch over us we are still. The pregnant amongst us curse under their breath to the gods, we do not blame them, their swollen feet provokes disrespect.When the rustling ceases we inch closer and fill our buckets and such with the creator's natural drink. We smile to each other because our hunter husbands will finally wash and we will no longer be tormented by their smells. Our children will feel the coolenss of water on their tongues. I fill my very large basin to the brim and my sister helps me place it on my head. Even under the strain, my neck is proud and i stare defiantly at the sun.
We start to make our way back and once we are past the deadly bushes the chatter begins again. Adama begins to tell us about her husband once moreand we all laugh. It is a proud laughter because we know we are the adhesive that binds our world together. Where I am from, the sun shines brightly and although its rays are not always a beacon of hope for me people it is the one sign that our futures may not be so bleak.
The water in the town well has dried up, and the closest source of water is a few miles off. The women and I will travel for it is our duty, proud bearers of children we are truly the adhesive that binds our world together. So we will pick up our buckets and such and we will sing tales of warriors past and in unison our feet will tell tales. Our husbands will bid us goodbye and we will bow to their feet as custom expects, knowing that at night time, it is always us that has the upper hand.The younger girls stay and watch our babies. The journey is tiresome but we will prevail. Animals lurk in the bushes tongues dribbling as they smell us approach, but as always we will prevail.
The conversation will flow and Adama will probably tell us for the hundreth time how large her husband's manhood is, we will all wink knowingly to each other, not because we think it isnt so, but because we know it isnt so. We approach the river cautiously and when we do get there and move as quietly as we can because we know the tales our grandfathers have told us about the people who never returned. We hear a rustle and like the goddesses that watch over us we are still. The pregnant amongst us curse under their breath to the gods, we do not blame them, their swollen feet provokes disrespect.When the rustling ceases we inch closer and fill our buckets and such with the creator's natural drink. We smile to each other because our hunter husbands will finally wash and we will no longer be tormented by their smells. Our children will feel the coolenss of water on their tongues. I fill my very large basin to the brim and my sister helps me place it on my head. Even under the strain, my neck is proud and i stare defiantly at the sun.
We start to make our way back and once we are past the deadly bushes the chatter begins again. Adama begins to tell us about her husband once moreand we all laugh. It is a proud laughter because we know we are the adhesive that binds our world together. Where I am from, the sun shines brightly and although its rays are not always a beacon of hope for me people it is the one sign that our futures may not be so bleak.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Lets Get This Party Started!!!
Who Said growing up would be easy? err exactly nobody! But jump on the ''Lets Explore'' train and make the ride a tad less difficult. I'm not exactly a blog virgin but usually I would be droning on about the depressing side of life. Not this time round though..........The ''Lets Explore'' train stops at the fashion station, detours at celeb gossip and just mazes through the fun side of life. Jump on bitches!!!!!!!!! Lol.
ps. Life IS better in colour!!!!
ps. Life IS better in colour!!!!
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