Tegan, NY & Nathan

…but New York City was a wild card.
Every hour was made up of a series
of chances, and choosing to walk down
one street
instead of another
had the potential to change
whom you met, what you saw or were
spared from seeing.

Oye Diran

Nigerian born New York raised photographer and creative director Oye Diran is one to watch. His favorite subject being African women in fine art settings. The color, composition and juxtaposition allows viewers to see African women outside of conventional context. As art themselves. Photos: Oye Diran

Make Up Museum! Yay!

It’s coming, it’s coming, it’s coming! May 2020 in the Meatpacking District of New York City. I love make up, it’s a form of art and self expression. I’m not heavy into the contouring and doing a million layers, but still. What is your favorite decade of make up? I think for me it has to be now, because they have proper skin tones for all. Also Euphoria should have a whole exhibit. Otherwise, I really love the 70’s, I love the night life, I love to boogie. Give me glitter, give me jewel tones, give me iridescence.

Go Just A Little Deeper

A moment of introspection. Answer these questions for yourself, I’ll begin:

  • A mixed bag of emotions. I’m really sad John Witherspoon died, a reminder that all things must pass. Death gives life edges. In my personal life, anxious. Not in a bad way, but in the manner of someone embarking on a new beginning. I am finally moving out of this negative energy and excited for what’s to come. I keep getting all these universal signs of the changes, passing my soul lessons and victory on the horizon. Excited, I’m excited.
  • Harvest. This is the time where my patience is rewarded, I am fully healed, I reap what I sow. All the seeds I planted will finally come to harvest.
  • My life purpose. To write, to be altruistic, to leave this place better than how I found it.
  • Create, to create is the best thing.
  • A good laugh.

What were your answers? It’s so important to reflect, its integral to your evolution. Photo: Were Not Really Strangers

Flu Fighters

Typical New York City weather, leaves you to believe it’s something other than what it is. For the last few days, week even, we’ve experienced extended summer. Rather what felt like extended summer. The other night I wore a mini skirt, even though I had a leather, suede, fleece lined jacket I still managed to get sick yesterday.

All morning I’d been fighting a sore throat, a heavy head and a congested chest. Usually I bring jeans, just in case, but again it’s been humid. As a native I have no one to blame but myself.

I’d been guzzling turmeric, ginger tea mixed with honey to no avail. So I trekked the six minutes to the liquor store, which in my condition felt like 12 minutes. As soon as I purchased my Jack Daniel’s I took a swig, feeling the sweet relief of whiskey hitting my chest. This, this is what cleared me out.

Whiskey and bourbon have medicinal properties. Once upon a time doctor’s used it as such. Still to this day, they are some of the best ways to relieve and prevent a cold.

Best drink to stay warm and healthy: a hot toddy. Whiskey or bourbon, honey, lemon and hot water.

A Slice Of Utopian Pie

Sally West

With a stoners intensity I hawk the waves crashing in. Settled a dirty blue, on the move a murky green, coming in a stark white. The waves sonorously telling you the mood of the ocean. Reminding you that it has both the strength to nourish and destroy. This is what we are made of. The rest of the world is on the other side.

The beach is magnificent, even if it’s filthy New York City water.

Trust. A thing we have in one another, while we take turns frolicking in the sea. Sometimes never speaking a word. Just being in the same vicinity creates a consensus to look out for each other. I jump the waves knowing no one will steal my belongings.

An old man pulls his thong down, leaving enough cloth to cover his junk, for the sake of an even tan. Cellulite, varicose veins, stretch marks, stomach rolls and more, no one is judged for the skin their in. Collectively we understand that beauty resides in us all, one way or another. This is the beach, let the relentless glare of the sun kiss your flaws before the eyes of others.

Many mini islands in the sand made of makeshift terrain: towels, mats and sheets, sometimes tent forts. We bring the provisions that bring us elation. Nobody complains that the music’s too loud, nobody gets angry at the people smoking marijuana, nobody fumes from the alcohol consumption.

I love the beach, it is a slice of the utopian pie we hope to achieve. Where we accept everyone’s differences, without trying to infringe upon one another. An ideal world.