I have never met an Easter dress I didn’t love. Or wide-brims and white tights, that did not remind me of the holiday in Brooklyn. In 2019 during a trip to London while on tour for Woman Of Color, I snapped photographs on my Fuji camera of Black elders waiting at a bus stop, donning twin pastel-colored hats and matching silk suits. On a Sunday in Brooklyn at 8 am and 11 am respectively, I spend the morning tracking looks that shuffle into the local Baptist church purely for this kind of pleasure.
I wonder how many of us would carefully hold the work-week ahead if it was shaped by what we wore for one day before ?
I want to answer these questions more in next week’s post, which brings me to a bit of housekeeping:
I am in my 35th year of life, and it has been filled with more learning than I thought possible. They’re entirely different than 34 and 33. They often ask me to name my work and furthermore, to name the service of it. For most of my career, which has sat hand in hand with my years as a mother, the space in which I made work or art, was often a reflection of who I was. This is hard to pin down. But essentially, what I am saying is, because something came naturally to me; being a writer, creative thinker, etc, I was lucky enough to make it a career. Recently, I have noticed a gap: I need to treat my work and myself similarly to how I parent in a way; you get rewarded not for good deeds (that is human) but for consistency.
Consistency has come easy to me in other areas—like writing books or client work. But never quite, in the digital space, which is where I began in 2012. Mostly because, as my friend A just pointed out to me, to write full-time you often have to marry someone rich. This wasn’t the case for writing books, I was lucky enough that they supported my young family. However, I am not sure old readers would quantify that digital space as consistent. I wouldn’t. When I looked around though, and as we look at this platform here, and I look at myself, my consistency often has to be attached to my income. Which is to say, that the past year, I’ve had to address a huge trauma wound … money. And how I see my work, my art, and me along with it. Anyone else? lol This is too layered to discuss here and now, but maybe later, BECAUSE I have learned and released so very much.
In therapy last year, I changed the vision of my life into seasons. I realized it is a softer living experience to see my years raising R and O, The Mae House, my work as a writer, consultant, and even teaching workshops, together, seasonally. I want to introduce a new cadence to these letters that will help me show up consistently.
Here’s the plan:
+ 7 Things We Can Imagine (essentially a weekly link list and text) will always be for all subscribers. Imagining is needed for us all these days, every day. Occasionally I’ll ask a friend to join. These will always be free.
+ Recycled Recipes (style series where I wear mostly vintage, share a recipe and music and tips to replicate the look yourself, typically shot on film by Kelsey Cherry), The Mae House Archives (a series that began on Instagram focused on homes owned or stewarded by BIPOC), A Postcard from Here (a series that is essentially a letter in short or long-form essay format from wherever I am at that given moment, usually coupled with film photography shot by me) will all be behind the paywall. Paying subscribers will also have first access to the intimate Seasonal Workshops (which I’ve been consistently guiding since September 2024. It was launched in 2020), other events that have capacity limits, and a monthly Q&A focused on culture and parenting as an art form.
7 Things We Can Imagine:
+ Amy Sherald is a storyteller.” Sherald’s contemplative subjects appear most concerned with their interiority, prioritizing their peace and self-realization over how others might perceive them and the shackles of history, though they are inevitably impacted by both.”
+ I spent the latter part of the week rereading about Mae Jemison, the first woman of color in the world to go to space. How impactful it was, and her moves (phew!) as a lifelong dancer.
+ I’ll be in conversation with writer, friend, and interviewer, Aminatou Sow on April 24th, from 7-9 pm at Warby Parker, SoHo to discuss Stand In My Window. You can RSVP to bookreport@warbyparker.com. Book Report is a new event series that consists of engaging discussions between authors and selected hosts, that underscore their deep-rooted connection to literature.
+ I read this CTA from Sophia and it got me thinking... A month ago I had a conversation with a start-up founder who told me; “teach yourself how to use AI in the best ways that will benefit your work in Creative Strategy, you will need it. I took his words, chewed on them, and spun them into action. I have learned (above) that quite often my reverence for the old ways of doing things could also be the death of my new ways of existing. We live in a world that is rapidly changing. We do not have to change with everything, or nearly as fast as it is. But we should know how to exist with it. Black women creatives specifically, have you used AI to support your work? I would love to hear.
+ For the skin science girls, Dieux sent me this, and maybe I am a bit changed? Too soon to call. Will be back.
+ Storytelling Through The Seasons Spring workshop is here. It is nearly full already. This cohort is focused on Visual Storytelling. The first session is on April 26th and the second is on May 3rd. It is a glue-like community of creatives from all over the world who often stay in touch long after the workshop concludes.
JOIN US before registration closes!
“…The group immediately felt like a safe and supportive space, where we could share our writing and our thoughts openly and without judgment, and leave feeling encouraged and inspired. LaTonya provided expert and empathetic guidance throughout...” ~ Rachel.
Thanks for sticking around!
With love,
L