Fey Ugokwe's Blog, page 9

Wifey

**Description: a mystical, lyrical and haunting, psychological thriller that careens along the unexpected twists and dark turns in the tenuous marriage between a 22-year-old, primarily Asian, Miami-born daughter of well-heeled, immigrant professors and a 25-year-old, orphaned African-American man from the hard scrabble of Los Angeles and their relationship's journey from L.A. to the suburbs of Dallas. "Wifey", a work of contemporary fiction/contemporary women's fiction--that also includes other diverse and multinational characters--highlights a variety of sociocultural issues, inclusive of domestic violence, differential treatment, spirituality, and sustainability, using the universalizing backdrop of food, and spotlights the smacking differentials within individual power, the hair-raising undertow of relationship secrets, and the prickling chill of unforeseen fates.**

#Caribbean #Mystery at a #Dallas #Farmer's #Market

Inching into city blacktop on ballet flats--careening, kinetic cornucopia of pungent sight, scent, all sound--insistent hands reaching, squishing at the lusciousness, looking for the bruisings in the wrong place...

#One-Way Road #Whipped #Cream (reprise)

Mouthful of smooth, rounding sure into vanilla, lifted with real air and time--he told her with a grin that that's what he wanted. But:

#Purity's #Passion #Potluck: #Peril at a #Dallas #Dinner #Party (reprise)

And they were two flirting at pots eyes on eyes and veins rushing, with the ambrosial mix of peoples as their green screen and it was sweet-sweat spice-smelling and sensuous, giddy back and well pleasant spinning, the chatting laughing breathing eating touching--in the savory-lush, oak, and rye--for a time:

#Miami/#Cali #Curry & The #Salted #Covenants (reprise)

Red silk waft, stray long strands ethereal--and flying--the glint of gilt embroidery, hands-feet ink like jewelry, casting out the swirling city ferments, beckoning toward the ever-sated covenants, in salt:

#Miami #Good-#Girl #Gazpacho (reprise)

New, she quick skinny-dipped into blinking bright green, a fresh-spooned lap in the bracing aqueous, emerging dutifully dainty up the liquids light--a finish clean--L.A. in the lush verdant so well winking, suited her. But...

Inside-Voice #Sangria (Blog Repost)

She swirled them all a blood punch tongue-careening, and heady, variegated soft flesh wading in it so sweetly, but just like her it was too quickly pickling:

The Quiet #Caribbean: #Scent of Skin #Secrets at a #Dallas #Potluck

And The Petite--new- over old-scarred and knocking at pots, playing at scents upon scents upon yester-innocence, like air of peoples layered in lingering, floral-like emulsions/slick store-bought waters; briny human dank of all hours yielding sheen; & whistling wafts of sweet herbs, brash spices, local protein--swirl-simmering o'er young Dallas & its irrepressible gleam:

Tra-la-la, la-la and the Transcenders

(Behind the scenes, basically, far away from my ppi brand's online sites, I
receive quite a bit of kudos for this blog--both for the largely woman-celebrity
celebrating work that it once was, as attendant to my interviews with them and
other influential women on my radio show; and for the illustrative medium it had
of late become, in my highlighting within it the pathos and pleasures that I
painted into my new book, a multicultural, woman-centered novella with themes
for almost all. Additionally, I've been blessedly forever fielding similarly secret/somewhat secret requests to appear on the radio show--which in actuality, I have not
broadcasted in essentially a couple of years now. In point of fact, I believe
part of the success of my show was the willingness of those great women guests
to open themselves up in the on-air interview process, and the other of course,
my ability somehow, to indeed get their good and guiding stories well out of
them. So, it is in part because of both the former and the latter--expressed
love to me for the blog and the radio show--that I compose the entry that I do
today, with sincere gratitude to all who have reached out to me, in any form or
fashion, about the blog and the show over the past few years, months, weeks, and
even days. Bless you all profoundly, profoundly, profoundly for your keen
interest, unwavering encouragement, and truly spirited artistic support):It was to the left and diagonal to me, twinkling-keyed and upper-C'd--a wordless
song so sprite, so high--soaring up, up, up, slanted-air-balloon around and into
my ears: "Tra-la-la, la-la! Tra-la-la, la-la!" It was little-voiced,
kid-cartoon-esque and fantastic; and ringing jubilantly out, it dared to defy
the each and all darkness and gloom of that brisk-winded March day. Because of
its sheer purity, free-spiritedness, and birthday-bouncy-house joy, I found
myself in those new seconds curiously beginning to let the sheer wretchedness of
my current life/week/day, go--and relaxing slightly, listening intently as I
trod, allowing that sunshine song to ray, radiate into my thoughts. But just
then--from the same direction of its ascent, left of me, closeby it and at
angle--rushed this Harsh, slicing that cane-sugar-sweet, summery song well down:

"Hey-hey-hey! Calm yo' ass down!" And then with it, a something inaudible, said
suspiciously lower-toned and thus completely away from the hearing of any
well-meaning ear-looker. And it next all fell into a sucked-up-hushed, a big
black hole yielding that awful, immediate, terrified quiet--the little song, and
all sounds from that direction, inclusive of the ordinary background chatter of
their fellow blacktop pedestrians. I turned my head--over and to the left--to
see who had been that spirit-raising baby songbird, and who had so swiftly,
needlessly, sharply caused her silence. The singer was a little girl about five
years of age, walking slightly behind her ever-so-tiny, almost still-toddling
younger brother, who appeared to be about three--and in between a couple,
presumably their parents, themselves a decidedly very young female and male. Her
critic had been the male, the father--who was closest in proximity to me. And
their camp of four walked/toddled quickly, ever-so-obediently on--in that
gruffly demanded, quick-zipped silence--and thus ended the soul-stirring,
Heaven-sent, sugar-pop portion of the day. Isn't that sadly, too often
sometimes, the human way?

It all set me immediately to pondering about relationships--whether familial
or otherwise. I recalled that I have often contended that at the basis of every
successful relationship should be a friendship/some of the core tenents of a
friendship--like respect, an extension of the unconditional love that we're
supposed to grant our family members, support, encouragement, and a motivation
to both help lift each other higher and truly be there in our times of the
lower. But--what if one doesn't operate in one's friendships in such an
embracing, loving, manner? Or even treat oneself in any goodly/godly way? How
then, could one turn around and be a true friend to the family one has created,
etc.?

And that, the all of it, made me think of what I admire in a friend. When I was
little, and up throughout my mid teens, my late maternal Uncle--a tremendously
bright, joy-filled and striding, sage, actively but oh-so-coolly religious,
knight-like family man--used to routinely advise me to restrict my close
friendships, and even my fave acquaintanceships, to those who would lift me up
in this treacherous, swirling vice of a world. And I realized that he wasn't
just talking about opportunities--he was speaking of spirit, of an
in-whatever-way emotional support and upswing could be potentially offered from
those whom you truly let into your little world's door. A cautionary so
priceless, from a gentle, jovial soul who himself has since gone on to--as this
Northern woman hears so often spiritedly said here in the South--Glory.

So. Accordingly--are you hoofing it, right this very reality, with those who
would--or do--trample your 'Tra-la-la, la-la', or entice you into doing so to
another? Are you consorting with those who merely encourage you into idle
gossip, or with those souls who set you trending and thinking on higher, more
harmonious levels of human existence, deed, inspiration, consciousness? Are your
friends there for you in your ultimate times of need--as you have been there for
them in theirs, whether it was in their jaw-dropping crises; or by putting money
in their pockets in patronage of their businesses, livelihoods, or other
pursuits; or in other of their lives' welcome or unwelcome experiences--to hold
your hand, pray/meditate/intend good things together with and/or over you; to
chat with you if you feel/are able to utter words into sentence; or to just be
stick-still in a room with you, and let their presence--strong and hugging--just
two-or-three-in-a-sandbox be with you, if your eyes are closing, and your lips
sometimes have the happenstance to make no sound?

You know, simply put, I like men and women who source well beyond the darkness;
who challenge others every day--even unto their friendships--to embrace, speak,
the good; shut out/prophylax the constant downpull on humanity to that which is
ultimately meddling, injurious, harmful; who seek to help others soar in their
unique songs, thereby bettering the spiritual statuses of those populating this
spinning, spinning, spinning, ever-transitioning planet. Okay--perhaps that
wasn't so simply put--but that's what I respect, admire, and grateful, think an
addition to our humanity. Here's an interview with onesuch extraordinary
person--a woman that I interviewed on the show, who definitely flush-fits that
exemplary life-lifting mold--Pro Golfer, Olympian, and Celebrity Fitness Expert
Andia Winslow. Hope you indeed re-enjoy (click link to listen): http://www.blogtalkradio.com/pink-purse-international-the-ppi-women-of-power-hours-radio-show

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Tra-la-la, la-la and the Transcenders

(Behind the scenes, basically, far away from my ppi brand's online sites, I
receive quite a bit of kudos for this blog--both for the largely woman-celebrity
celebrating work that it once was, as attendant to my interviews with them and
other influential women on my radio show; and for the illustrative medium it had
of late become, in my highlighting within it the pathos and pleasures that I
painted into my new book, a multicultural, woman-centered novella with themes
for almost all. Additionally, I've been blessedly forever fielding similarly secret/somewhat secret requests to appear on the radio show--which in actuality, I have not
broadcasted in essentially a couple of years now. In point of fact, I believe
part of the success of my show was the willingness of those great women guests
to open themselves up in the on-air interview process, and the other of course,
my ability somehow, to indeed get their good and guiding stories well out of
them. So, it is in part because of both the former and the latter--expressed
love to me for the blog and the radio show--that I compose the entry that I do
today, with sincere gratitude to all who have reached out to me, in any form or
fashion, about the blog and the show over the past few years, months, weeks, and
even days. Bless you all profoundly, profoundly, profoundly for your keen
interest, unwavering encouragement, and truly spirited artistic support):It was to the left and diagonal to me, twinkling-keyed and upper-C'd--a wordless
song so sprite, so high--soaring up, up, up, slanted-air-balloon around and into
my ears: "Tra-la-la, la-la! Tra-la-la, la-la!" It was little-voiced,
kid-cartoon-esque and fantastic; and ringing jubilantly out, it dared to defy
the each and all darkness and gloom of that brisk-winded March day. Because of
its sheer purity, free-spiritedness, and birthday-bouncy-house joy, I found
myself in those new seconds curiously beginning to let the sheer wretchedness of
my current life/week/day, go--and relaxing slightly, listening intently as I
trod, allowing that sunshine song to ray, radiate into my thoughts. But just
then--from the same direction of its ascent, left of me, closeby it and at
angle--rushed this Harsh, slicing that cane-sugar-sweet, summery song well down:

"Hey-hey-hey! Calm yo' ass down!" And then with it, a something inaudible, said
suspiciously lower-toned and thus completely away from the hearing of any
well-meaning ear-looker. And it next all fell into a sucked-up-hushed, a big
black hole yielding that awful, immediate, terrified quiet--the little song, and
all sounds from that direction, inclusive of the ordinary background chatter of
their fellow blacktop pedestrians. I turned my head--over and to the left--to
see who had been that spirit-raising baby songbird, and who had so swiftly,
needlessly, sharply caused her silence. The singer was a little girl about five
years of age, walking slightly behind her ever-so-tiny, almost still-toddling
younger brother, who appeared to be about three--and in between a couple,
presumably their parents, themselves a decidedly very young female and male. Her
critic had been the male, the father--who was closest in proximity to me. And
their camp of four walked/toddled quickly, ever-so-obediently on--in that
gruffly demanded, quick-zipped silence--and thus ended the soul-stirring,
Heaven-sent, sugar-pop portion of the day. Isn't that sadly, too often
sometimes, the human way?

It all set me to immediately to pondering about relationships--whether familial
or otherwise. I recalled that I have often contended that at the basis of every
successful relationship should be a friendship/some of the core tenents of a
friendship--like respect, an extension of the unconditional love that we're
supposed to grant our family members, support, encouragement, and a motivation
to both help lift each other higher and truly be there in our times of the
lower. But--what if one doesn't operate in one's friendships in such an
embracing, loving, manner? Or even treat oneself in any goodly/godly way? How
then, could one turn around and be a true friend to the family one has created,
etc.?

And that, the all of it, made me think of what I admire in a friend. When I was
little, and up throughout my mid teens, my late maternal Uncle--a tremendously
bright, joy-filled and striding, sage, actively but oh-so-coolly religious,
knight-like family man--used to routinely advise me to restrict my close
friendships, and even my fave acquaintanceships, to those who would lift me up
in this treacherous, swirling vice of a world. And I realized that he wasn't
just talking about opportunities--he was speaking of spirit, of an
in-whatever-way emotional support and upswing could be potentially offered from
those whom you truly let into your little world's door. A cautionary so
priceless, from a gentle, jovial soul who himself has since gone on to--as this
Northern woman hears so often spiritedly said here in the South--Glory.

So. Accordingly--are you hoofing it, right this very reality, with those who
would--or do--trample your 'Tra-la-la, la-la', or entice you into doing so to
another? Are you consorting with those who merely encourage you into idle
gossip, or with those souls who set you trending and thinking on higher, more
harmonious levels of human existence, deed, inspiration, consciousness? Are your
friends there for you in your ultimate times of need--as you have been there for
them in theirs, whether it was in their jaw-dropping crises; or by putting money
in their pockets in patronage of their businesses, livelihoods, or other
pursuits; or in other of their lives' welcome or unwelcome experiences--to hold
your hand, pray/meditate/intend good things together with and/or over you; to
chat with you if you feel/are able to utter words into sentence; or to just be
stick-still in a room with you, and let their presence--strong and hugging--just
two-or-three-in-a-sandbox be with you, if your eyes are closing, and your lips
sometimes have the happenstance to make no sound?

You know, simply put, I like men and women who source well beyond the darkness;
who challenge others every day--even unto their friendships--to embrace, speak,
the good; shut out/prophylax the constant downpull on humanity to that which is
ultimately meddling, injurious, harmful; who seek to help others soar in their
unique songs, thereby bettering the spiritual statuses of those populating this
spinning, spinning, spinning, ever-transitioning planet. Okay--perhaps that
wasn't so simply put--but that's what I respect, admire, and grateful, think an
addition to our humanity. Here's an interview with onesuch extraordinary
person--a woman that I interviewed on the show, who definitely flush-fits that
exemplary life-lifting mold--Pro Golfer, Olympian, and Celebrity Fitness Expert
Andia Winslow. Hope you indeed re-enjoy (click link to listen): http://www.blogtalkradio.com/pink-purse-international-the-ppi-women-of-power-hours-radio-show