The Essentials of…

My Human Experience – Being a Creative.

May 30, 2022GabrielleAmindgoatLeave a comment

Looking back at every entry I’ve made on this blog, I’ve been very cryptic in the ways I chose to describe myself, my worries and my joys. I’ve decided to restructure a little hence I feel as though for me to carry on with my cryptic ways, I must begin with a foundation besides the chaos and build from there a little at a time. I do this because only then will I hold myself accountable in regards to how I present myself towards life.

Hence I humbly present to you my “Human Experience” a little Blog segment that tells of my life and all the things that revolve around it.

Being a creative.

My existence is a reflection of the fact that I live and love to create, it all comes innately to me, like all my past walks of life have fused into one, thus creating the “me” that is having a human experience at this very moment. I prize myself in being a master of many crafts and with this, I am able to tap into said assortment of crafts during different seasons of my life, allow me to paint a deeply exaggerated – yet accurate – picture of how this usually plays out.

We begin in January, I’m charged. I write and sometimes I sing the things I write, this can go on till March when my inner Kahlo makes an appearance and I paint for a week or two, preparing my fingers to make brass jewelry before July.

Come August, my need to sing goes through an existential crisis and all that energy is transferred into music production. I dabble in making tracks for the songs I wrote in January through March…intently trying to actualise the melodies that played in my head for days on end, occasionally taking a break to go to therapy (this is me taking time to knit a scarf whilst conversing with myself about how I can make my life more productive).

It truly sounds like the ideal version of life…and it is, but all roses have thorns…I’ll explain.

September is here and I’ve finally figured out how to monetize my assorted box of skills. I’m selling my jewelry, Apparently people love to hear me sing the things I write, Alas! they also want to purchase my paintings. I’m overjoyed, I’m dispensing my crafts with so much gusto…it’s baffling, I can’t be contained. This is me doing the things I love and making money from them.

Until…

October is nigh and I’m losing my high…this is usually when the circus turns to chaos. For some reason, I want to learn how to make Macramé baskets, however, I have a painting to finish, a short story to complete, 3 songs to produce and a screenplay to write. Where do I start?, How do I start?, Why should I start?

It is mid November and I no longer have the will to create, well I do, however when I try to…my entire being seems to forget how to create and I’m left blank. I can’t even bring myself to paint a flower!

When I create, I have access to the world, if I open the right doors, I’ll walk into my wildest dreams and all my mundane worries will no longer bother my person. With everything I create…I birth a universe so perfect, it exceeds my imagination, makes me appreciate myself, my life and all the people I get to know daily. During these moments I feel truly fulfilled, my cup of life is refilled and my soul is replenished…I am a whole new person.

On the flip side however, more often than not the thought of creating simply drains me. I have the ability to do so much, to be so much and oftentimes I get so caught up in all of it until I feel as though I’m being wrung, all my gifts being squeezed dry until I no longer find joy in creating.

In a nutshell, Being a creative to me is the greatest thing the divine has graced me with, however it is mostly me constantly get lost in myself and the excitement that comes with creating boundlessly and that usually ends with me losing direction.

Soon it becomes a chore that I’d rather not do.

When I find myself in these times, I’m usually at my worst, the things that come naturally to me no longer make me happy. I begin to grovel at my feet, begging my inner self to do what it needs to do in order for me to come back to myself and tap into the creativity within.

These moments – despite the amounts of time I’ve bounced back from them – scare me astronomically!. I find myself asking if they’ll last and if I’ll never create again, I convince myself that I’ll lose the things that I believe define me, the things that make me like myself a bit better…

What happens then?

Will I be the same? Will I like myself less?

Who am I without my creativity? do I have the same essence?

This battle is one I never truly seem to conquer and I probably never will, maybe that’s the beauty of being a creative. Maybe there’s no answer to these moments because creativity is not something that can be harnessed and kept in a cage to be used till infinity comes, it is something of an enigma. It comes and it goes…it has moments where its at it’s fullest and vice versa and despite the fact that I never quite anticipate when the low moments will hit, I’ve come to understand that I can only utilise the moments when my creativity is at its’ highest and use the lows to ground myself. It is a very spiritual experience and losing it means that I need to re-align myself with my spirit, only then will creativity find me again.

December is here, I finally feel as though I’m ready to start creating again. I’m in the mood to write a song about finding myself.

And the cycle commences!

Why This Matters.

June 2, 2020GabrielleAmindgoatLeave a comment

I reckon it’s time we fight for Justice.

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

It has been quite a while since I wrote anything. Amidst the rage of Covid-19 in Kenya I have been through a lot of uncertainty, trying to find myself and what not. But now…My soul is REALLY not at peace. My soul is angry, Sad, Disgusted, Dissappointed, but for once, she’s faced with clarity and she’d like to Speak. Therefore…I beseech you brethren to listen, Listen because I know your soul is SHAKING, ready to do whatever it can to be heard as it stands up against injustice.

Laundry is the only thing that should be seperated by colour~ Unknown

Wednesday May 27th, I was cuddled up in my mother’s bed Watching the video that documented George Floyd’s murder and as he cried out for his deceased mother, I looked up at my own, trying so hard to suppress that feeling in the throat; the one that makes it hard to swallow. An understanding passed between us and I let a single tear slide. Only a single one because the feeling I felt more than sadness was anger. Pure rage which turned into disgust. ” How could someone be so calm in such a situation?”, “Did he get some form of gratification from feeling the life of a Black man end beneath his knee?”.

Next came fear, My brother is a black teenage boy living in America, My father is a Black man living in America, the same thing that happened to all black victims of police brutality could easily happen to them and we’d get the call that holds enough gravity to stop time. I kept thinking “It could have been my Dad, It could have been Jae” Every time I see the news telling of another life lost to police brutality, my heart breaks because I understand the fear that sits in the back of your mind, the fear of knowing that the life of your loved one can easily be compromised at any time just for being black

I speak about George Floyd as a black person who knows that racism is venomous. even as an African, If I’m in a situation like that they will not see my nationality first, only my skin and that is why when African Americans are murdered by white supremacist police officers and citizens, I feel it personally.,.It’s an attack to my race.

But that’s not the only thing that burns my spirit.

When will our conscience grow so tender that we will act to prevent human misery rather than avenge it? ~Eleanor Roosevelt

I am even more enraged by my Country. You’d think Covid-19 would account for more deaths as it is a global pandemic, That isn’t quite the case. The Kenyan Police Force has decided to take it upon themselves to beat Covid to it. The curfew seems to justify the fact that the national police service has officers killing and maiming innocent people in cold blood and those in charge do not reprimand these actions.

We should feel safe when we think about the police officers but instead as Kenyans, we associate them with fear. Police brutality in Kenya right now is not fueled by racism, social class is what drives it. However It isn’t shocking that it drew it’s roots from racism in colonial times. The Kenyan Police force formed in 1907, was formed with the agenda of protecting those high up on the social tree, the white. Essentially due to this job they were conditioned against their own people, the lower class. and now the Police protect the rich and view the poor as criminals.

The odds in this period are heavily against the poor. The government demolished homes without warning, living many families displaced at such a vulnerable state and in the midst of a pandemic. Now a homeless man, Vaite, has been murdered. he had nowhere to go.

And to add a little salt to the wound, Our government does not find it necessary to adrress these issues. How inhumane The Police serve the state and not the citizens and that is the harsh truth. Our country leads the world in the number of people killed by Police since the start of the pandemic. That is definitely a call to attention and our government is not responding. What does that mean for us?

George Floyd’s death was the first domino in a chain reaction and now the world is not silent. We are challenging the police, the government and the system in its entirety. It’s a scary time, however I believe there has never been a better moment to rise up and defy those who oppress us.

The Best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others~ Mahatma Gandhi

I proudly say the names of the innocent Kenyans who’ve been killed by police Brutality.

Yassin Moyo
Khamis Juma
Calvince Omondi
David Kiiru
Peter Gacheru
Eric Ngethe
Idris Mukolwe
Ramadhan Juma
John Muli
Ibrahim Onyango
Vaite.

as well as those brutalised and unlisted. Justice!

You can help out by aiding the families affected by police brutality and the actions of the Government by using the following links.

Together we can fight and make a change!

New Year Norms

January 1, 2020April 29, 2020GabrielleAmindgoat2 Comments

It’s a New Year, Happy New Year from mine and mine.

I reckon the most important tradition that comes with the beginning of a new year is having a new years resolution. Recently a friend of mine came up to me and asked me the question “What’s your New Year’s resolution?” this sent me on a journey of reminiscence; remembering my past resolutions.

2016: listen to your creativity (Among others)

2017: Become less self critical (Among others)

2018: Just breathe (Among others)

2019: … (Among others)

To be completely frank, I never did achieve any of those.

Though I only smiled in response, here lies my true answer.

As Humans, we all make an effort to better ourselves and every year, once the clock hits 00:00 a.m. on 1st Jan..We are provided a chance to redeem ourselves whilst carrying the flaws of the previous year.

It’s like one of those mobile games with limited moves; you die, an ad shows up saying ( watch video to get 3 free moves), you watch the ad hence gaining three free moves as a chance to redeem yourself even though you used up most of your previous resources in the previous game. You end up commencing from where you left off; with issues from the previous game weighing you down…That’s just how this life works.

However, we seldom realise this because we’ve been given the chance to do something different. We try to erase our failures from the previous year without a thought, but they’re always lurking, putting a strain on us in the background. When you make a move it becomes a step or two backwards rather than forward and we make more mistakes leaving us unsatisfied with how we’ve played the game for the umpteenth time.

But sometimes we reach some form of Nirvana. We identify all our wrong moves as we go along and understand which moves lead to what we want out of this game and that we must face obstacles that tamper with our progress. When the time comes to redeem ourselves, we have our strategies set and we play the game smart this time. Hence when the year comes to an end we can confidently look back and say we’ve learnt how to prosper in this thing called life.

As much as I think I’ve made sense of the whole New year resolution phenomenon, We’re now in a new decade. I’m not sure what to expect…but I can feel a shift in the air that’s slightly confusing to digest and I’m not sure whether or not it’s going to be amazing or a disaster…I can only hope it’s the former and not the latter.

New year! New me! New year! New me!

I’ve chanted that for as long as I can remember, but 2019 taught me that I cannot strip away all the things that define me in order to create a different Gabrielle, I need to find something else hidden deep within in order to accessorise my personality. Hence, this year – as a result of the wrong moves I made in the previous games – I choose not to abide by a resolution. Instead, I choose to say a prayer…It goes a little bit like this

Dear God, let this decade be Kind to me, let fate hold my hand as I cross rivers, let it lift me up over the mountains that stand between me and my prosperity, let it be my shield from the arrows sent from my enemies, and most of all let me find a friend in it as it unfolds my destiny. Amen

At least with this, I know my expectations are not too high, I’ve given myself room to mend myself up when the cracks start to form where I’ve built a foundation. and when the moment of redemption comes again, I will be proud of what I’ve achieved and then I will go on my knees and say “Thank You God.”

The first unreckoning

December 11, 2019April 29, 2020GabrielleAmindgoat6 Comments

Last night I had a dream I was walking on a familiar path overlooking a lake, The aura of my surroundings was nothing less than calming. The birds were a symphony matching my steady heartbeat…a soft ba-dum that filled the millisecond of silence where my feet rose to take another step forward.

I could feel my senses tingling, woken by the strong scent of pine trees and my sheer curiosity fed by the single thought running through my mind ‘Where am I?’. I kept my pace steady along the path, letting my eyes wander in wonder of the beauty I beheld.

I took my rest beneath a baobab tree, the only baobab tree I could see. My head laid atop a bed of Citrus scented mushrooms and I looked up to the sky to watch as the clouds zoomed from one horizon to the other.

The wind was like a song that lulled me to sleep, and in my dream I fell into another slumber that took me into yet another dream. Here I was a child again; drowning my fingers in a can of paint.

I mixed the yellows and reds and greens and blues and began painting futures…my own futures. Each was the same yet different, and each held a story of its own.

In one, I was Lioness… with seven arms stretching out towards various corners of the earth. I was atop a mountain, overlooking everything below me and everything seemed to grow towards me.

In another, I was the sun… effortlessly radiating my light towards the earth. As my rays touched the heads of every living being I became home to each that embraced my warmth.

In another I was a forest, so green and healthy. I breathed life into those that ventured into my woods. I was gentle yet tough and there were those who feared my very existence too much to even spare me a glance.

In the one that demanded my attention, I was just me, Boldy timid and vice versa, a pot of all the other futures stirred together: A lioness, the sun, a forest. I was powerful beyond measure but my power was birthed by being a vessel of something positive to those in my midst and even beyond.

My seven arms were stretched to provide for those who looked up to me. I shone light in the deepest darkest crevices and waited for the lost to find their path as I illuminated the way. I was cut down a million times, set on fire and left to rot, but I found my will, building myself from the ground up in order to keep my tormentors alive with only a single exhale.

I was everything I hope to become, fate did not conspire against me but merged different takes of my movie into one perfect scene…that is when I began channeling my dreams into reality. As I woke from my slumber…my purpose became clear.

Baring my emotional innards

May 30, 2019July 3, 2020GabrielleAmindgoat2 Comments

Dear someone,

 You know yourself, my words here are for you. Read them as though they're coming out of your mouth, birthed by your mind alone, then read them as they are; as a letter from me to you. Please don't judge yourself too harshly, or me for that matter. I'm sorry if you feel offended or sorry for me, I just need you to move past that and read this with an open mind. when next you see me, take my hand and tell me you got me.

let your ears guide you.

I'm watching my every move like a cop trailing a criminal, I reckon I'm hypocritical in the sense that I'm always telling people to stop enabling the bad habits of their loved ones whilst I'm single handedly enabling every Tom, Dick and Harry that crosses my path. Nonetheless, there's only one person that's draining my enabling cup more than anything I've ever experienced. Each night, I refill my cup with mental pep talks, telling myself how I'm undeserving of this emotional fatigue, how no matter how much he drinks from my cup, he'll never be quenched. I fall asleep knowing that the next time I'm around him, I wont offer him a drink to moisten his parched tongue or wet his cracked lips, I vow to myself each night -sometimes subconsciously (with the single tear that always threatens to put an end to my strength) -that I'll let him thirst until he finds another source of water; water that won't satisfy him as much as the one that comes from my cup, water that won't go down easy, water that will leave him chocking to a metaphorical death. His resurrection will be the realization that I got this thing figured out, I wont need to be the enabler anymore because I am the voice of reason, I am the rehab and not the dealer, I am the remedy.

let your ears open your heart for you.

I'm watching my every move like a cop trailing a criminal, I reckon I lie to myself when I stare at my reflection and tell myself that the growing pains don't affect me, that my skin is too thick and my soul too sturdy for me to feel the disregard to my emotions. I put out so much love and affection but rarely receive any, I assume that's partly my fault because you see, the lies I tell myself are the truths that other people believe. To the world... I am strong, I absorb each shock wave, wrap it up in positivity and release it to the masses as something pleasant while losing a fragment of myself in the process. I'm scared that soon I'll be too used, bent out of shape and too rusty. To most I'll be the old piece of furniture that gets thrown out while to the select few, I'll be an antique piece of jewelry or the prized family heirloom passed down from generation to generation, an epitaph of past times, when I was at my best.

Let your ears be a companion for you.

I'm watching my every move like a cop trailing a criminal, I reckon I'm constantly in denial of the things that have been bared out in the open for me. I don't need to be everyone's savior, I may want to walk this earth like Jesus did...but I'm not Jesus. The more I try to help, the more I push them away because I can be very forward; I speak things that need to be heard but they don't want to listen because I point out their flaws, I pick out every nitty gritty detail from every crack and crevice hidden in this life and beyond. I go deep, unearthing every dirty little detail with no apologies; most times I keep the findings to myself and only speak about what's necessary, mine is not to judge, I simply observe silently but don't fail to voice my solutions whenever I'm the sole confidant. I want the best for everyone around me, indeed I care more about their mental health sometimes than I do my own.

let your ears bless you.

I'm watching my every move like a cop trailing a criminal, I reckon at a glance I seem standoffish, utterly unapproachable and downright unmesswithable. I apologize for how I choose to protect  myself, I fear rejection more than anything else; it's something that's been engraved on my soul since before birth, hence I tend to keep every situation - that involves me getting hurt- at bay. but don't get me wrong, I handle rejection better than anyone I know, I sit tight holding on to whatever willpower I can conjure and say to myself 'they let one of the best things that would ever happen to their lives pass them by'. my words don't mean I'm proud, not at all, my words are a declaration of the fact that even though I fear rejection so deeply, I can always rise above it because I'm bigger than rejection, I'm the David in this body and my rocks are the words I feed myself each time I'm beaten down and left to rot in my own misery. I'm bigger than what the world makes of me.

A pinch of Bluster

April 30, 2019July 3, 2020GabrielleAmindgoat4 Comments

I reckon I’m like a high density type of glass;
A couple of hits don’t faze me,
yet I seem to store that impact until a time comes when cracks form on my physique, the cracks turn into major tributaries feeding the mouth of a river…that river is my anger, my pains that have been growing like mold on spoiled milk…I am the spoiled milk.

Trust me when I say I have your best interests at heart, I’m constantly taking blow after blow in the background whilst your sorry ass is frolicking with needles prickling at your feet, you haven’t been stabbed yet…karma hasn’t hit you yet; she’s almost there…not too long, and when she finally introduces herself you’ll run in my direction, will I take you in my arms? Or will I turn away because you’ve always cried wolf, and each time I believed you; never learning from my faults, I guess they’ve become my driving force.

Hush now my heart, I see how she’s like fire…I’m like fire too. Do you like dangling off the edge of a cliff; knowing that at any moment your grip could fail and you’d mimic the movements of a raindrop falling from the sky, you’d hit the ground and fall apart or do you seek solace in the fact that I’m stupid enough to wait for you to fall into my arms; spread out like I’m calling the rain…like I’m calling to you.

I’m sorry for being me, I’m sorry for being so soft and curvy, so sweet, so round, so beautiful yet so distantly yours; I can’t touch you anymore…I want to, but my heart is torn. You know how we do this, it’s like our unspoken routine; your hot in the winter and warm in the summer, I’m hot and cold and a little bit of both whenever I’m met with your aura. I wish it was always winter because sometimes all I need is your heat to tame my uncertainty.

You’re pure, yet so tainted by your own evils, but I feel as though I’m always going to be here; your holy water, ready to cleanse you no matter how much it takes from my own purity.

Anxiety

March 21, 2019April 29, 2020GabrielleAmindgoat3 Comments

There are times when I’ll wake up bright and early, ready to take on the world with nothing but my will to live, and there are times where my body won’t move from that bed; the one that has been my refuge, the one that whispers to my soul ‘the world doesn’t need you to rise for it to go round‘, the one that holds my tears and fears and dreams and every hope unspoken but yearned through my slumber filled thoughts.

Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas on Pexels.com

There are times when I’ll walk through the crowds, shoulders back, head held high and that ‘boss lady’ look plastered on my face, while there are times when the mere thought of being around people sickens me, my knees go weak, my head spins and my whole being is weighed down by the constant fear of making a complete fool of myself.

There are times where I laugh and go with the flow of happiness where I am one with the world; loving deeply and unapologetically, while there are times when all I want to do is hide from the world and cry till the rivers run dry, when every malicious thought merges into one entity that feeds on my sorrow as I dive in deeper and deeper into the pools of my despair…such despair.

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There are times when my high is above the universe, where nothing else matters except the things that give me inner peace; God, the trees, music, love…the thought of being in love. Other times my lows dominate my soul; I can’t feel the beauty around me, I can’t see the sun shining down on me, I can’t feel the warmth associated with tranquility of mind and the favour that’s always above me.

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There are times when I seek a version of myself that isn’t plagued with the overbearing entity that is anxiety, when I seek a version of myself that has the power to disregard that voice that speaks negativity on everything i’m yet to do. However i’m stuck in a time where I’ve resigned myself to the inconsiderate grasp of disquietude. I am one with anxiety and anxiety doesn’t wan’t to let go of me!

Bounce Back

February 11, 2019April 29, 2020GabrielleAmindgoat2 Comments

Hello,

I reckon I’ve taken enough time off from this blog. I’ve been putting it at the back of my mind for quite some time… not feeling appeased by the content my mind deemed worthy enough for the public.

I journeyed far far away to a place that smelt like fabric softener, a worn out place that still held a beauty so divine.

I’ve been battling war, upon war, upon war with myself; trying to mediate with the constant wheels rolling through my mind, and sometimes my heart. Each time I unravel, a new diffidence begins to unwind from the creases of past fears I’d thought were long forgotten.

I am a remnant of something that once was and a premonition of something that is to come. I’ve merged time into one little sphere of hope and dreams; each fragment existing as the other and as itself as a whole…does that make sense?.

I think I rush through my brain sometimes, its become a race track and I’ve burnt the wheels of the car that is my strength, my willpower seems to lack, cause each bend represents the turning point to a finish line and the start of another marathon alike.

I write a lot about my thoughts; its where the real magic happens. when I’m lost in such a place I stare into the far distance, acknowledging the nature around me and swaying to melodies in my head. I resonate with the vibrations that speak to my soul, the beauty of simplicity unknown, but once you detach your person from the world, you become a part of an oblivion that feels familiar, an oblivion that feels like home.

Rain

January 7, 2019April 29, 2020GabrielleAmindgoatLeave a comment

When the rain fell upon the land, my soul began to develop. Yet the rain had no desire to watch the seed it had watered flourish.

The rain sought the waves and ordered it’s force to wash me away, but the land held me firm; my roots etched deeply in her, she would never let go.

When the rain disappeared, my soul did not dry up. The Land drew waters from deep within and fed me, till I grew into a crooked tree.

The rain abandoned the land and I, yet the land never dried, in fact…she thrived each waking moment; bearing more and more souls that merged with me and made me upright.

When the rain called, I answered. I am drawn to the rain; in it my vision is birthed, my emotions come alive and I see a vision so vast my mind cannot comprehend.

The rain I speak of is a rain that you have not had the opportunity to encounter, but yes, the rain is part of me and within me and all around me…as is the land.

The Upright One.

December 19, 2018April 29, 2020GabrielleAmindgoat2 Comments

I often wonder about you, a carefree soul you would have been, throwing caution to the wind and planting seed upon seed hopeful, yet certain your toil will amount to something.

You’d take your heart in your hands like you always did in your younger years -when Lion King was the only thing deserving of your tears- and offer it willingly to the one who hears and never steers clear of your fears but holds you near and whispers ‘your soul is deserving of my love my dear’.

You’d swallow your pride, and let your feelings guide you into a life where your happiness matters more, as opposed to when you hide it inside. Ride the waves high, get lost on cloud nine as time becomes a mere constraint of the mind.

You’re in love with your shine, even though it’s meant to be mine.

But no, I suppose I’m a selfish person for taking that away from you. You say I’m not to blame ‘he’s the one who made us this way’. I was exposed to our past; a defining past that existed before we came to be and instead of leaving it in peace I had to take you down with me.

I yearn for you to be free, without the burden that is me. You’d accomplish our dreams so flawlessly without having my negativity in it’s stead. But I Reckon you’ve come to accept why it can’t be that way; the baggage of our past has bound us together and made me the superior mast.