We took an early-morning walk to the water tower that overlooks South Ridge–Kevin, Amanda, and I; it was refreshing.  We stopped a couple times to snap pictures and went up further than I’ve ever been–past the tower.  I feel like that’s a metaphor for how the rest of the week is gonna go.

I listened to Jay-Z (like always) and the line that caught me today was from the Blueprint album:

“Just know I, chose my own fate. I drove by the fork in the road and went straight.” -HOV, “Renegade” 

While organizing my week yesterday I asked myself what I wanted to accomplish in the next seven days…I concluded that I want only to be better than I was the last seven days.  So let’s see what that life do!

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JESSICA CANDELARIA…WE GO WAY BACK

MAKE LOVE & DO WORK,

~SONDRIA

***PHOTOS BY VONOVICH.***

“Three Days In The Desert” [DOWNLOAD]

Upon my first listen of the record I am put off. I can hear the turmoil of a very personal relationship. I can hear the regret. I can hear nostalgia. I hear the anger. I hear despair. But I’m left to deal with these emotions on my own. The Coachella-based tracks don’t give me instructions to dance, FAIM isn’t convincing me of how much better his life experience is than mines. He’s venting.

Then I watched the Youtube video of FAIM explaining the project. He reveals that he made the record to express himself, and he released it for like-minds to relate. However that simple answer doesn’t credit the artistic merit of the work, which is very much present. There are raps painted over instrumentals that are not based in hip hop. Prose is manipulated into song to describe actual events—actual feelings. To me, this record shows the compartmentalized emotions of a writer, there are moments of screaming rage/hurt/desire, but those moments do not taint the positive memories. Though I cannot relate to Coachella, or the break-up itself, I can relate to the helpless and upsetting feeling that comes when something thought to last forever, or something I wasn’t finished enjoying, comes to a halt.

“3 Days in the Desert” implies the temporary/permanent essence of a mirage: when you think it’s about anger it’s about love and when you think it’s about pain, it’s about reminiscence. And then in eighteen minutes, its gone. Perhaps like FAIMKILLS’ relationship…but most certainly, like LIFE.

MAKE LOVE & DO WORK,

~Sondria

Hard copies of the "Third Shift" EP

It was mellow on Main and 5th when I got to Los Angeles for Epic’s “Third Shift” EP release on Friday, September 16th.  DJ C’est La Vie was spinning and I walked over to enjoy the free vino Epic had supplied for his guests.  A few popular hip hop tunes played before C’est La mixed in Epic’s music and his sound quality and vocals fit right in.  It was at this point that I noticed the hard copies of “Third Shift” spread out on a table.  The quality was impressive–and I say that in relation to the blank disc, no-label, magic-markered product I’m used to receiving from independent artists. There is a quality to the event, a quality to the presentation, and a quality to Epic that is absolutely admirable.

Photogropher, Marcie Navarro, lends her services to capture photo booth shenanigans.

The release, which was set to begin at 7:00PM, was pretty loose in structure.  There were no forced speeches or opening performances…just happy people enjoying one another and indulging in photographer, Marcie Navarro’s  very active, very cooky photo booth. When Epic finally took command of the microphone at 9:45PM, he started by thanking everyone for coming out and announcing that this was his first solo event, but what he did next is what struck me most.  Epic starts coursing through his appreciation for a few key people in his life in such an exemplary way, that I feel like I’m being thanked.  His recognition went something like this:

He thanks Ramir, for playing a huge roll in the production of “Third Shift” He also thanks TMG who produced “White Boy” and who he’s been working with for 3-4 years.

His bestfriend, Farrin who is featured on two tracks for “Third Shift” and also worked with Epic on the “Middle Class American” project is next in line to receive the emcee’s gratitude, apparently Farrin has also been to all of his major shows.  Epic’s mother, Chantay, however can’t make it to every show because, as he jokingly put it, “She’s a grown ass woman.”

CEO of Barley Broke Intellects, Rick Montano

There is never a question when it comes to the dependability of Rick Montano, CEO of Barlely Broke Intellects, according to the artist, and photographer Jorge Peniche  is one of his bestfriends in the world and responsible for all of the artwork on the “Third Shift” EP.

Front cover of "Third Shift", artwork by Jorge Peniche

Epic thanks his brother Ryan next and gets choked up when explaining that Ryan has made it to nearly every one of his shows.  However, beyond his tears, Epic is quick to remind the onlookers, “I ain’t no bitch, though.  Run up on me though, I’ll whoop anybody’s ass in here.”  We have a laugh, after a few of us wipe away our own tears, and our host finishes up by recognizing Marcie Navarro for all of her support, Kenny also known as “KaySoCool” who handles the artist’s booking, C’est La Vie for her time, a friend from ninth grade, and his grandmother who he warns us is an O.G. and not to come at her sideways.

DJ C'est La Vie, spinner extraordinaire

Then Epic tells us he hasn’t prepared any music for the night before spitting an incredible a cappella that is surprisingly political in nature, criticizing the government and addressing the issue of crack cocaine in the community.  He then performs “White Boy” noticeably embarrassed because his young niece is present, and after requesting a photo with everyone in the room, the show is over.

Epic being photographed by Jorge Peniche, Photo by Marcie Navarro

I was engulfed by high spirits and motivation by the end of the night.  Epic’s natural ability to be both shy in-person and cocky on the mic is endearing because it’s honest, and it was a pleasure to be there to enjoy the well-deserved celebration.  I have a new respect for Epic’s work because of the respect he has shown for it, his effort to produce and provide a quality product for his audience only means that his list of thanks will continue to grow, because Epic is the type of artist you can put your faith in.  He is the type of person you want to support.

Make Love  & Do Work,

~s

(click here for free download)

In my short experience with D.I.Y., it seems to be a testament to the power of self-discovery, self-knowledge, and the ultimate, perfect life balance.  It’s a journey in which the main character discovers the worth of his individuality and sets out to express that individuality and protect it at all costs.

The first thing you hear on the EP is the sound of Marvin Gaye’s voice on “21Sev7n”.  It induces the ever-familiar feeling of morning sun on a newly awoken face and when Curtiss King’s voice comes in, it squints through the blinding light to see the day for what it is: an opportunity.  This introduction is true to it’s purpose in that it tells us King’s current status in life and where he plans to take himself and the ones he cares for.

(click here for free download)

The record is peppered with humor and salted with honesty reminding it’s audience that this is a person making this music–an artist–not a boxed-in, boxed-up, pre-packaged product pristinely awaiting purchase.  There are GUTS on this download.  Songs like “Sinbad” and “That’s How My Day Is Going” waft in and out of fantasy and fact, similar to nineties sitcom character, Ally McBeal.  Perhaps this storytelling tactic is strategically placed here to reinforce the nostalgic theme of “Sinbad” in which Curtiss claims to think he’s “…Kid N’ Play, the life of the party.”

As you continue journeying through D.I.Y. you begin to realize how cerebral it is.  It’s like you’re a tiny person walking around Curtiss King’s mind.  You experience aggression (“Zipperlips”), lust (“P.C.C.”), pride (“FeelsGood”), greed (“What I Need”), and the general playtime your thoughts get as they slip and slide in-between and throughout one another (“Supernova”).  Then, finally, with “Point Your Fingers”, you are transferred out of the artist’s psyche and back into your body where you are reminded of your importance as an audience member.  It’s an honest account of the fan-to-performer relationship, and a declaration of the necessity of both roles in an artistic dialogue.

D.I.Y. is an all-accepting, analysis of past experiences that have been transformed into present knowledge.  The natural balance of the work makes it believable, and honest.

Make Love & Do Work,

~s

“Psst! They’re going to see you!” Maya whispered.  She was one year younger (and bit more compassionate) than I was.

“Don’t look at us!” I hissed. “Then they’ll see us too!”

“Make sure they aren’t looking, then slide under here,” Maya offered. The boy looked from where the administrators were standing, to where the kids were lining up, to where the teachers were gossiping, then he slid to where we were.

“Who are you?” I was a believer in first things first.

“DJ”

“Why are you hiding, DJ?”

“My daddy told me to never, ever, let anybody stick anything in my arm. If I get sick, there’s a herb that’ll cure me.” I envied the certainty peppered with pride in his voice.  “Why are you guys hiding?”

“We aren’t hiding,” Maya squinted. “We’re revolting!”

That night the school called both of our homes.  DJ’s mother confirmed, that yes, D.J. was out of school that day. Maya and I were spanked; our parents were instructed to schedule flu shots for each of us immediately.

“I don’t know where that school thinks I’m supposed to get the money for that flu shot from, but you better pray to Mighty Jesus that you heifer’s don’t get sick…” my mother ranted while she prepared dinner.  We never ended up getting sick, but we got into a shit-load of trouble.

We were warriors; extremely angry at something we couldn’t quite put our finger on. So we became wary of our peers, suspicious of our elders, and skeptical about our future.

“If that bitch even looks at me sideways I’m going upside her head.”  Maya was standing with most of her weight on her left leg, staring into the back of some girl’s head like she was trying to burn a hole through it.

“Why don’t you just turn around, dude?  If you weren’t looking at her, you wouldn’t know if she looked at you sideways or anyways.”  Maya turned and looked at DJ incredulously.

“That bitch don’t decide what direction I look in! And if you got a problem with me talking about your little girlfriend, you better tell her to keep her eyes in her head!”

By high school, everyone thought Maya was our leader because she was beautiful.  Her long, thick, hair was soft and springy, and she had the fortuitous combination of dark skin and tight eyes that made college boys call her China Doll. As time went on, and our senses matured, we knew that nothing Maya did was on accident.  She was a born-leader who, at a very young age, could feign surprise and manufacture spontaneity.

“You do understand what I’m asking you to do, don’t you Moon?”  I nodded.

“And you’re not going to have any problems executing, are you?”  I shook my head.

“And Sun, what about you?” DJ saluted and stared ahead.  The Commander knew that we could execute.  He also knew that this assignment could build or destroy our existence.  He was prepared either way. The other Moon and Sun stood in a room below us preparing to pick up the slack in case our emotions took over.  DJ followed The Commander out, locking the door behind him.  I went into the bathroom and pressed my hands against the cold marble of the sink—trying to stabilize my instability.  Cautiously, I lifted my head to look into the face of my sister’s killer.

“Ten minutes, Maya.”

I imagined her four blocks away, engaged in a similar ritual.  She applies her blush as I apply my shoe polish.  She moisturizes her perfectly manicured hands and I slip my clean, purposeful mitts into leather gloves.  As she slips into her nylons and I lace up my boots, we both pause and look over our shoulders.

“Five minutes, Maya.”

She becomes uneasy…and it’s not the pre-speech jitters that usually propel her into fiery use of vocabulary and dramatic pounds of the podium. She wants to wear the garter with the .22 secured in it, but to what avail? What life would she be protecting?  She gave hers up a long time ago.

Maya walks into the restroom and presses her beautiful hands to the cool, hard porcelain—trying to stabilize her instability.  Slowly, she lifts her head to look into the face of her killer.

“Show time, Maya.”

DJ and I walk in silence to the event that my sister is headlining. Before we walk the last block he squeezes my shoulder and I remember the last time we three were together…

“Where are you going?!”  I asked, but I knew. I knew when they said, “advance” and “new car” and “creative freedom”.

“This is my chance! We can’t change the world from a basement! These people are offering us a chance to have our message heard.”  She was good. Even before they groomed her, she could lie to us without flinching.  They needed a pop star that would speak to the restless youth…someone they could trust to keep the economy afloat, they said.  But when she left in the Mercedes they bought, I realized that “my chance” couldn’t possibly coincide with “our message”.

“She’s not your sister anymore,” DJ said squeezing my shoulder.

“Yes she is.”

Maya had strayed, but she was just as much my responsibility as she was when I was saving her from flu shots.  She was my sister, the cultural icon—The New Rebel, leading the generation in the televised revolution of consumerism.

I ascended the steps to Maya’s dressing room.

Maya descended the steps to the stage.

I went into the dark bathroom and placed my gloved hands on the porcelain. Stabilized.

The men are always better in my dreams; that’s why I like to sleep in.  I woke up this morning, calm.  Having been fully aware of my task for six months, April Fifteenth came as no surprise.  April Fifteenth was embedded in me—tattooed in my psyche like MAYA was on the insides of both my wrists: one tattoo for the day we fought, one for April Fifteenth.

What did shock me was the look in her eyes when she came down off of her pedestal. She didn’t see me—walked right by me to her vanity—but she knew. And when she called out to me, “Luna”, she did so in my father’s voice.

The last time I heard my father (or anyone) say my name, there was a man with his knee in my mother’s back.  He had split her lip, and she had spit her bloody, nigger spit in his face. He stripped her of her ability to sit upright.  My father cursed him in Patwa before firing a round into his face, and before his own body hit the ground, he called to me.

“Luna”.  I went to him. His body was limp, save the fist clenched around his weapon, and his stony face, disapproving, directed me to my sister.  Twenty years old and crying hysterically, she wept in the arms of one of the men…one of the men who had fired against our father…one of the men who had smashed our mother’s FACE into the pavement!  I stood to take action—both furious and discreet action—but I was trapped.  I looked down and the face had sympathized. The weapon was released and the strongest man I knew held fast to my ankle pleading with me to be merciful before he gasped his last.

I snatched her, we ran. I drove. Her face was dry: what was the point in crying with someone who was going through the same thing?  Where was the visual individuality in that?  No, her tears would be saved for when they would be most useful.

“What happened?” He approached us as soon as we pulled up.

“I don’t know. They came for my father…”

“Oh, DJ!” Maya wailed, wet-faced, and flung herself on Sun. He watched me, held her, and listened to her stammer through the summary of our parents’ demise.

“….then…then daddy came out with a gun…and…mom was laying on the ground…” I flinched.  My mother was not laying, as my sister so sinisterly put it.  My mother was fighting and bawling for Maya to get away from the baldheads.

“…and THEY SHOOOOOOOT HIIIIIIIIM!!!”  At this, I walked into DJ’s house. And for the first time, I heard my new name.

“Moon”.  The Commander stood behind me with a hand on each of my shoulders, and said that he knew what they had done to our parents. He said that I was his daughter now; he said that my name was Moon. And he gave me a garter with a .22 in it.  My sister, he said, was both stubborn and weak-willed—a dangerous combination.  He told me that if I could not control her, I would have to neutralize her.

Before I spoke, I watched Maya with her hands behind her back trying to feel around for the garter—the garter wrapped around the MAYA, wrapped around my wrist.

It registered.

“LUNA!”

I moved in: furiously, discreetly. And I whispered:

“My name is Moon.”

“…and all you dudes out there that don’t eat pussy:stop callin’ my phone! I mean it, Los Angeles.I do Pilates three times a week to keep the insides of my thighs tight and smooth.You ain’t never seen a bitch with thighs this velvety smooth.I get a Brazilian wax every two weeks.I douche—hell—my cootie pie is everything but shellacked.From time to time I expect somebody to get on down there and take a gander or two.Shit, take the full tour; check out the décor—I digress.This is Miss Margo and you’re listening to Middle of the Night with Margo.Stay right there because I’ll be right back with the dirty-dirty’s own: Big Brady.”

Margo hit a button, waited for the red light to go out, and removed her headset.She took a Newport from her bag and placed it between full, shiny lips completely conscious of her single-person audience.Once she lit the white stick, Margo put on a short, leather jacket and approached her guest.

“You wanna go outside and have a smoke?”The voice she spoke in was the same one that got her the Middle of the Night gig.She headed to the station’s balcony confident that the rapper was in tow.

Once outside she let the cool air and nicotine high seduce her.The rapper however, was failing miserably.

“Shawty you so thick.Girl, you makin’ ya boy homesick right now, I swear.Ya swagger say New York, but them some southern hips.I’m sayin’ though, why don’t you let me break you off right.I know your man ain’t doin’ it.”He went on like this for four, long minutes.Margo flicked her cigarette over the balcony and grabbed Big Brady by the dick and kissed him hard.

“Back to work”, she said and strolled back inside.She removed her jacket, sat in her chair and put her headset back on.

“Hey L.A.! This is that bitch Margo and I’m back with Big Brady.Say what’s up to L.A., Big B!”The rapper struggled for a hot second putting his headset on.

“What’s up, Cali, it’s ya boy Big Brady, reppin’ that Die for Dollas, you already knowin’. What’s really good?”

After the radio show Margo took Big Brady to a nightclub downtown.Once he realized she wasn’t a groupie, he actually took some time fucking her decently before she left him exhausted in the penthouse suite he’d tried to distract and impress her with.

Times like these Margo wished she had a good, female friend she could call and squeal into the receiver with.Well, that’s how she would’ve felt five years ago, right now, she just wanted to meet Gates for brunch and sip too many mimosas under the pretense that she was having trouble deciding what to eat.

Margo had known Gates since high school and she thought that he probably had some sort of Pretty in Pink crush on her, but she didn’t have time to deal with that, so she drowned out his feelings with witty banter, orange juice, and champagne.

“Big Brady, huh?”Gates said and scooped a piece of cantaloupe into his mouth.Juice drizzled down his mouth and he slurped and licked to catch it—momentarily confusing Margo’s loins.“Was he every bit as eloquent as he seems?”

“Very funny.You shouldn’t even be asking me that—you should have been listening, old man.”Margo grabbed her spoon from her napkin and outstretched her arm to scoop up some of Gates’ cantaloupe.He swatted her hand.

“If you’ll recall—madam—it was you who graduated before me.”

“Shhhh!” Margo hissed from behind her sunglasses and reached, this time successfully, for a piece of cantaloupe.

When Margo elongated her tongue to catch some dribbling juice, Gates leaned in to make the move she’d dreaded since her senior year of college.Right now, though, she appreciated it.Crooked Brady hadn’t kissed her once the night before; he’d concentrated on trying to give her a hickey—it was then that she remembered having read something about a huge bash at the 40/40 in honor of his twenty-first birthday.Gates, however, nearly ten years Brady’s senior, new all about lips and tongues and chins and juice.Just when he was about to show her what he knew of teeth, she pushed her chair back from the table.

“What was that?”Margo said adjusting her glasses and gulping the last of her current mimosa.

“That was a kiss.” Gates’ cool demeanor as he dabbed the corners of his mouth with the cloth napkin confused Margo’s loins again and she leaned across the table.

She glided on the elliptical with bipolarized emotions, elation being the more prominent of the two.She had a lightness coursing through her that she hadn’t felt since she saw Pharrell Williams, in-person, at fashion week.Butterflies, she supposed.The other feeling was knotted at the base of her stomach and she chose to ignore it by doing an extra forty minutes on the machine, ensuring her exhaustion upon exiting the gym.

On the drive home she thought about her burning legs and took pride in her hard work.Any thoughts about fucking Gates in the restroom of their favorite restaurant were drowned out by turning the car radio up a couple of dials.

Margo lay in her bed freshly showered and mumbled “fucking mimosas” before drifting into slumber.

“Okay ya’ll, tonight it’s time for you to give me some advice.Cutty Buddies and Friends with benefits.The idea behind it seems ingenious:physical monogamy coupled with emotional promiscuity.But what happens if you get some cutty from a lifelong buddy?Is that foul play?Are you guys automatically going together because of the emotional history?Talk to me, City of Angels.Manic Margo needs your help.”Margo lit a cigarette and waited for the phones to start lighting up.

She was two inhales in when they did.Her wide range of listeners gave her advice from opposite ends of the spectrum.She shouldn’t fuck a friend if all she wanted was sex.She should fuck a friend because it will be passionate and the relationship will be meaningful.Was Margo ready for a meaningful relationship?She was only twenty—ugh—something.

She didn’t know what she wanted, all she knew was—then her cell phone buzzed.

“…I mean, me and my wife have been together for almost thirty years, and we started off as prom dates, Margo.Don’t let fear have you missin’ out on your soul mate.”

“Thank you Dominic, I appreciate that.And thank you Los Angeles for helping me out and keeping me up.You’ve been listening to Middle of the Night with Margo, as if you didn’t already know.Goodnight, L.A.”Margo checked her cell phone—it was a message from Big Brady:I’ll be your cutty buddy baby.She shut the phone off and headed home.

The next week Margo skipped brunch and opted to go get some extra gym time in.She’d been on the elliptical seventeen minutes when her phone rang.Gates.She watched it in a panic—should she pick up or shouldn’t she?Who did he think he was anyway?She missed one lousy brunch in what, eight years?She didn’t owe him anything.But she didn’t text or call to let him know either.She could have been in an accident for all he knew.She could have at least text him.She started to answer and the phone stopped ringing.Missed call.Whatever.

“Probably wasn’t that important”, Margo looked to the left and was unnoticeably startled by the bright white of the teeth smiling at her.

“That’s a pretty pompous assumption to make.”The stranger was too fine and she required a little distraction from all this Gates business.

“Well pardon me.It wasn’t my intention to be pompous.”The chocolate man’s gaze never left Margo’s smooth complexion, her shapely body, or her gorgeous face.

“Now you’re making fun of me?Not too good with first impressions, are you?”She was going to devour him.

Margo felt better on her drive home.Who could have thought that standing sex, in the gym shower, with a stranger, could be so satisfying?Gates had tried several times to reach her but she couldn’t be bothered right then; her life was on the up and up and she needed to take that energy to the studio later on.Instead, she called the only other person she really had to call.

“Hey Simone.”

“Are you pregnant?!”

“Wow.”

“Sorry baby.Your auntie’s not senile.I dreamt of fish last night and I already called all of your cousins.I didn’t even consider you.”

“Well, you should keep running with that feeling.I’m not the pregnant type, Simone.”

“You a woman ain’t you?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“Oh, so your tubes are tied.”

“No.”

“You celibate all of a sudden?”

“Now you know me better than that.”

“Then you’re the type, honey.”

After attempting to convince her aunt of all the reasons she could have been dreaming of fish besides her own prenatal condition, Margo lay down for a nap.However, she received a text that demanded her immediate attention.It was from Gates:

“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?”

“Yes”, she typed and then dozed off.

Gates knew Margo well.Probably better than she thought he did.After receiving her response to his text he decided not to bug her about it.If he did, she would do one of two things: explode or disappear.He had seen it happen with other men.She was always very clear about what she wanted and what she wanted was sex. Still, the men she involved herself with had it in their minds that once they’d rocked her world, she’d want to husband them.Or at least go on a second (or in some cases a first) date.Each one had been wrong.

She was a captivating woman.Physically, she was unmatched by any one he’d ever seen.He actually laughed at himself while thinking of her because she has all of the things most black women he knew tried to tie down, tuck in, or press straight.Not Margo.She wore no makeup.In fact, she fought against the need for it, drinking water in excess, denying anything carbonated or more sugary than necessary, regularly changing her pillowcases.She wore her hair naturally and it cascaded over her shoulders in thick curls.She was as black as the night sky, and as free too.When she spoke it washed over his entire being, and made him want to kiss her to keep from dropping to his knees.He knew now—what had made man after man call her repeatedly despite what it must’ve done to their pride.The moment he received her text he felt that his entire manhood depended on whether or not he could make her is bride.

“Well hello, Los Angeles!It is the Middle of the Night and I am Margo. I’m in a slow jam kind of mood tonight.I’m feelin’ sexy.Ya’ll ever have a night like that?  Well pour yourself some wine, I already got mines, and let’s let Maxwell tell us about his ‘Bad Habits’”.Margo pressed the button and removed the earphones once the red light was extinguished.Her head was buzzing.

From the gym to this Gates situation to the spliff she’d smoked on the way to the studio—something had her head swimming.She decided it was the weed and walked to the balcony with a lit cigarette between her fingers.The city was gorgeous during this time of night.Black and free.She leaned over the balcony and imagined flying…

The next morning Margo was sick.She’d been spewing all morning, but she decided to meet Gates for brunch anyway.She might not have been able to eat, but she wasn’t fucking around with any mimosas either.

“Hey kiddo.You look terrible.” Gates thought she looked better than any woman in the room but he wanted to assure her that nothing had changed between them…regardless of how much had.

“Thanks a lot.I’ve been throwing up too, in case you were wondering.”Margo smiled her normal smile and sat in her normal seat, however abnormal she felt.

They dined and Gates drank, per usual.Witty banter distracted Margo from her wobbly stomach and allowed Gates to stare at her eyes, lips, cheekbones, flailing hands without interruption.They were back on track, but headed in a new direction.Each of them felt it.Each of them got louder and funnier trying to ignore it.

“I’ve already converted, agreed to give up sex, and now I have to watch what I pray for? FUCK YOU!”

It seemed like all of Banda’s women were getting out of pocket.  First Maria showed up to his mother’s house unannounced and claiming to be pregnant.  Then Peaches, whose real name he couldn’t remember to save his life, quit her job and started working his nerves, full-time.  No one even knew where Cheryl had been for the past two weeks.

He stood on Linda’s balcony cooling down and thinking things through.  What had he done to any of these women? Hadn’t he given them exactly what they wanted?  He blew fake smoke into the cool night air and tried to remember their first encounters.

“…but my friends call me Peaches.”  Serena leaned across her desk in an attempt to give Banda a better look at how she got her nickname.  When the handsome stranger’s light green eyes didn’t dip in curiosity, she sat back and tried to sexily cross her legs.  Banda, in an attempt to put her out of her misery and noticing her beat-up shoes, smiled his pretty smile.  “What size shoe do you wear, Peaches?”

Serena looked a little surprised by the question, then embarrassed as she uncrossed her legs and tucked her feet back underneath her desk.

“Oh…uh…seven and a half. Sometimes seven.  Depends on the shoe. What size shoe do you wear?” she tried seductively.

Banda examined the very slim, very expensive leather shoes on his feet.  “I think these are a thirteen, baby.  But to be honest, I tend to just try shoes on until I find a pair I like.  I never look for a particular number.”  He let these words wash over her then said, “What time is your lunch break, cutie?”  Serena held up her index finger.

“Cool”, he looked at his watched, “I’ll be back in an hour”.  Serena grinned at Banda’s back.

Maria noticed Banda as soon as he entered her store but she pretended to be engulfed in her customer’s needs.  She guided the older gentleman around the store while Banda followed, covertly.  Maria left who she was helping in an aisle to make a decision, tossing an “I’ll be upfront if you need me” over her shoulder and heading for the register.  Banda snatched her into one of the aisles before she could make it there.

“But where will you be if I need you?” He whispered into the back of her head and kissed her neck.

“Baby stop! I have customers,” she half giggled, half whispered.  Banda pretended to sulk and Maria touched his face.  “What are you doing here?”  She glanced around the store for anyone that might require her immediate attention.

“I fucked up”, he said helplessly putting both hands in his pockets.  “My sister’s birthday is today and I didn’t get her anything.  I need your expertise.”

“Is that it? We just got this slammin’ pair of Louboutins in today: black snakeskin, and a clutch to match.  I’ll hook you up.  You know what size she wears?”  Banda smile his pretty smile.

“Seven and a half…sometimes seven.”

Banda left the balcony and sat down on Linda’s sofa none-the-wiser.  He’d bought Peaches an expensive pair of shoes and a matching handbag on the day they met—what did she have to complain about?  Well, Maria had bought that stuff, but she didn’t know that and Maria thought it was for his sister, so what was her problem?  He sat across from Linda’s television and stared at the blank screen.  His mind wandered to how skillfully Cheryl’s body moved when he’d first seen her in a club. He also remembered how he’d set out to make that body his.

She was the most attractive of her four friends, and that was saying a lot.  They had been popping bottles and denying dances all night, and Banda didn’t intend to be one of the herbs standing up against the wall, defeated.  He made his selection based on practicality.  Since each of the women was gorgeous, he looked for signs of personality among them.  The one doing the splits in her dress was needy—clearly dissatisfied with the standard attention awarded for staying fit and dressing well. Banda knew there was a time and place for a girl like that. Now wasn’t the time.

“Need some help with those?” Banda smiled his smile at the friend trying to balance four shots in her tiny, well-manicured hands.  Cheryl, frowning at first then smiling at the beauty of the man, nodded yes and carefully passed Banda two of the shot glasses.

“I’m Banda”, he said without looking at her.

“Cheryl”, she said involuntarily staring at him. “And thank you.”

“No trouble. Is it your birthday, Cheryl? You ladies seem to be having a hell of a night.”

“I don’t think so.  This isn’t exactly the way I would celebrate if it were my birthday.  It’s my girl Linda’s birthday”, she nodded at the girl in the dress doing the splits and they both chuckled.

Linda hoisted herself up and sauntered over to the friends.

“Happy birthday, Linda”, Banda smiled and handed her a shot then immediately turned his attention to Cheryl. “Here’s my card.  It was pleasure meeting you”, he said softly into Cheryl’s ear. “You girls don’t let her forget to call me.”

“We won’t”, they sang and Banda left the club.

“You coming to bed or you gonna sit staring at that blank screen all night?” Linda was wearing Banda’s dress shirt.

“Take that off. When’s the last time you talked to Cheryl?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

They were good girls.  Before they knew him, they were good girls.  Maria was reliable and selfless.  Peaches was so brand new you could still smell the plastic on her. And Cheryl…if he was to settle down with any of them, it would be Cheryl.  Beautiful, articulate…

Banda walked onto the street in front of Linda’s apartment.  Linda followed, stopping in the doorway.

“Where are you going?  Where are your shoes?”

“Cheryl.”

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you keep talking about Cheryl?”

Cheryl was walking on the sidewalk passed Banda, humming and still wearing her church hat.  She turned in time to see the car screeching around the corner.

“Banda!” Linda screams.

He stares. “Maria.”

“Peaches?!” Her car accelerates.

She could be snapping pictures at your show, creatively directing the shoot for your birthday, making your flyers, or adding the magic to your music video and you wouldn’t even know because all you’d see is someone LIVING.There’s a seamless connection between Life & Art that occurs when we start dealing with genius.For example, Michael Jackson is no more dancer than he his arranger or fashion icon.Marcie is no more photographer than she is hip hop head or any more tree connoisseur than she is a writer.Then again, perhaps I’m putting the pussy on a pedestal.This is why we do interviews.Let’s see if we can find out what Miss Navarro learns from Life through her ability to slow it down.

SONDRIA:Let’s start with photography.How have the observations you’ve made in photos altered your lifestyle?Are there any photographers who have significantly influenced your work?Who?How so?

MARCIE:questions like these are intimidating. leibovitz and lachapelle. because they represent two things i admire and strive to embody, the representation of humanity in it’s various spaces and the manipulation of space, time, and pop culture.

SONDRIA:What’s the most memorable photo you’ve ever seen? Why was this one so poignant?

MARCIE:The most memorable photo’s I’ve seen are all the ones from my childhood, old family ones. I’ve seen plenty of great and powerful photos by successful photographers, but there is something about the genuineness of a snapshot that really inspires. It’s the rawness, the communication of the moment without any set up or digital assistance, just snap and there you go.

SONDRIA:How do you choose what to magnify and what to minimize?What are you trying to teach/give the people through photography?

MARCIE:It’s funny how you evolve as a photographer and suddenly you’re not really putting so much thought into taking a “good” picture. When I compose a shot lots of things go into it; composition, color, texture, all the basics you learn when you first pick up a camera. Those become second nature and when you have an image in your view you just know how to put it together, it’s all very fluid and natural, following your gut. You ask what your subject is, what feelings do you want the end result to evoke and then you work it out to get the image you want. This happens quickly, again, it’s natural. I don’t know, it’s just, a click and a picture. hopefully a good one. My intention is to captivate, motivate, educate, inspire, and provoke. I started with photography and film solely to communicate so with different projects I intend different things, but mostly, yeah, I just want people to take something from the pieces. Oh and I for sure want people to get in touch with film photography and the darkroom process. The work it takes to get a good print is incredible and deserves some real respect. The digital age is exciting and innovative, but there’s nothing like being in the darkroom, I mean nothing.

SONDRIA:What are your goals as far as films are concerned?What film makers—independent or not—have influenced you?How have they moved you?

MARCIE:haha, oh this question. off the top of my head hitchcock, tarantino, and anderson. hitchcock was a genius, no need to go over that. tarantino has perfected his vision while paying homage to all his influences from spaghetti-westerns to kung-fu, some people call him a knock off, i consider him an engineer and a pure maniac when it comes to dialogue. anderson’s breakdown of human interactions are always spot on and quirky, i can dig it. i also take great interest in french new wave, silent films, and experimental art films from the early 1900′s, it’s really interesting to see them play with this new technology.

SONDRIA:How do you plan to contribute to the film industry?Are you bringing a new style, or improving on classic technique?

MARCIE:i’m still looking to develop my voice and with that i hope to bring a new style by improving a classic technique. wow, i just realized my caps-lock use is non-existent at this point. i want to contribute by being able to tell a story in a new, original, and effective way. sometimes people miss that and you watch something and at the end are left wondering what the hell that was. you have to learn the rules of story telling and film making before you attempt to break any. story, story is key. a good director can make a terrible script effective, and a bad director can kill even the best story. having style is definitely important, but all style and no story makes jack a dull film maker.

SONDRIA:What are some of you favorite movies and why?

MARCIE:most of my favorite movies are the ones i grew up with, the ones that first struck my interest. back to the future, ruthless people, full metal jacket, willy wonka, city slickers, john wayne anything, james bond..i really can’t do this question justice. they’re my favorite because they showed me that i can create an alternate reality which was reassuring for a kid like me because my head was and continues to be constantly in the clouds. i watched willy wonka and thought, well damn, why can’t x and y happen. it opened a flood gate.

SONDRIA:Where and how does writing fit into your life?Is your main goal to write either fictionally or not?Or are you down to write whatever, whenever?

MARCIE:i write whenever, wherever. it’s instinct to do that, it’s a method of expression. sometimes they’re thoughts,romanticized conversations with ex-lovers, random situational happenings, dreams, screenplays, free verse. I write on things i find interesting so that i can share it with the world. and you see, that’s the thing, that’s how i see it. i write it, shoot it, snap it, copy & paste it, all with the hopes that i can share it with the world. innocent enough, right? so my goal is to share. oh and stream of consciousness, love it. i get stoned a lot and write. yeah.

SONDRIA:How do you choose which writing projects to take on?

MARCIE:which i choose to write? they choose me.

SONDRIA:How motivated are you to consistently put pen to paper?What keeps you motivated?

MARCIE:honestly, i’m not as motivated or dedicated as a lot of writers i’ve met, but that comes with time. my consistency has improved from this time last year and that’s just going to get better. when it’s an assignment or something for someone else, it’s intimidating to stare at a blank screen or a blank piece of paper and think “okay, i have to come up with something worthy” but you learn to conquer that hurdle quickly but jumping on the page and writing it. shit or get off the pot. what keeps me motivated is my determination to make the most of each day. i’ve no right wasting my life when people are struggling to live theirs. my life consists of seeing and documenting, experiencing and sharing. staying motivated comes easy to some and not so easy to others. i had a routine: i run around my apartment or whereever i’m at trying to distract myself. bad habits. but when i sit down and it starts flowing, it doesn’t stop. i end up pages deep before i realize i’ve been writing for hours. i’ve picked up a few techniques for keeping the flow going and i carry a notebook constantly. well, i use to. now it’s notes on my iphone. but the idea is the same: STAY WRITING. write what you see, write what you hear..write write write. even if it’s bullshit, some of the best thing’s come from shit! well, you get what i’m saying. oh and i try to stay away from TV and unnecessary internet use. distractions. i’m such a sucker for them!

SONDRIA:Who are some of your favorite writers and why?

MARCIE:palahniuk, fitzgerald, ellis, plato, aristotle, descartes, salinger. ooh, dirty name dropper. ;] why? because they write and i repeatedly read it. because they have something to say and hey do it wonderfully. because when you read their words, you feel it. because they make the wheels turn..

SONDRIA:It seems as though you’ve chosen art forms that require a great deal of slowing life down, picking it apart, and restructuring it as you see fit.How long have you wanted to be God?

MARCIE:since i learned he turns water into wine. the catholics aren’t laughing. haha . as far back as i can remember i’ve imagined life in every way other than what it really is. i’m an arranger. it’s just fun imagining “what if”. you pick it apart to it’s most raw element, relative to the moment. i hope this makes sense. i daydream all the time, lots of ideas come from daydreaming, lots.

SONDRIA:What are some projects you’re currently working on?

MARCIE:i’m working on my first book. currently i’m in the darkroom working on image selection. rolls to develop, all sortsa fun. there’s alot going on in my head, it’s all execution at this point. i get distracted so easily, it’s really quite terrible. but my intensity matches so when i’m in, I’M IN! i’m going to disappear for a year and reemerge next summer with a book release, a contract with rolling stone or wallpaper, and a range rover. mark my words. x

SONDRIA:Is there an artist or anyone that you’d love to work with?A sort of dream project?

MARCIE:i’d like to curate a multi-media experience with kanye west. i LOVE kanye west. i’ve seen him numerous times and each time is better than the last. i was 20 feet from him during “hey mama” and in traditional kanye fashion he brought out his mom. they danced and sang. it was amazing. he’s so amazing and full of love. people think he’s arrogant and rude. he’s funny and laughing at all of you on his way to the bank. anyways, the idea would be to interpret his catalog into something people can touch, see, and experience. something other than music videos. we’d have our after party at brooklyn bowl with the opening reception at the brooklyn museum. i have a thing for brooklyn. i’d also like to photograph all my favorites. i have a big list of favorites.

SONDRIA o you have any advice for people interested in expressing themselves and contributing using several different medium?How is it possible to fit everything in?Or is it possible?

MARCIE:just go. the more you think the less you create. just do it. you wan to take pictures? buy a camera and take pictures. you want to write? WRITE! you want to make gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches? well get to cooking! funny thing is, this is easier said than done. i can’t say i write or photograph all the time, but i should. the more you explore the better you become. you may find you like one medium more than another, writing over playing the guitar, painting over piano, whatever. what matters is your making art, so keep doing it. i don’t know if it’s possible fitting everything in, but it’s sure fun trying. oh and never, ever let the money kill it for you. what your art doesn’t produce, the streets do, so get to hustling.

Instead of an outro written by me, Miss Navarro sent over a rant along with her interview…I’d like to share it with you.Enjoy, and pay attention to YOUR life!

Love & Water,

Sondria

Marcie’s Rant

i like to rant, so here goes.

i’m picking up an enlarger from my friend this weekend and then i’m going to turn my bedroom into a darkroom. it’s going to be tricky and it’s probably a bad idea, but i have to try. i enjoy writing and photography and film because it allows me to communicate and regardless of what anyone thinks, we live for a connection. i want to connect with everyone. i want everyone to share a common thread. i’m a hippie, a peace maker. always have been. when i was a kid i use to ask “why can’t we all just get a long, help each other, and live life?” but i was asking because i literally did not understand why that wasn’t an option, i was dumbfounded. WHEN IN THE HELL IS LOVE NOT AN OPTION? it makes no sense..adults make no sense. i’m just starting to get serious about getting serious so this is going to be an interesting time to be me. i’m scared, but that’s because this is going to be soo good. to make sure i don’t get down on whatever there is to get down about, i repeat “be productive and proactive” and it works. i start doing shit and 4 hours later i’ve knocked out an insane to-do list. mind over matter. always, always mind of matter. i cyber stalk random people. it’s amazing what the internet has done for my ability to focus. i’m bored about five minutes into anything with a glare over my eyes and i’m usually behind them thinking about what i did the night before or who won the dodger game. goddamn dirty internet.

i hope i’ve entertained you.

xo

DJ C’est La Vie is one of California’s most appreciated female disc jockeys from the Los Angeles to the San Bernardino County, and she is certainly the one spinning the Hip Hop I’m interested in.Let’s get to know the soft-spoken, apparently reserved lady of the tables.

SONDRIA:How long have you been spinning records and where did you get your start?

DJ C’EST LA VIE: I purchased my turntables in 2005, and made my first “official” DJing debut in Nov. 2008.I got my start with the help of some great DJ friends (NAMEDROP: DJ Joelskee and DJ sourMILK ) who helped me pick out the right equipment, helped me dig for vinyl at record stores and showed me how to spin.I am definitely thankful I started with vinyl records.Most DJ’s starting today will not have the experience of digging for vinyl and matching records without a computer.It’s an experience I cherish and the reason why I have so much respect for DJ’s who paved the way before computers were involved.(SORRY FOR THE TANGENT haha)

SONDRIA:Tell me about your shoe fetish.

C’EST LA VIE:I [love] sneakers and heels and my most recent fav’s, wing-tips (people should not hate on the wing-tips).

SONDRIA:From kicks to hits, are you in love with everything Hip Hop or is that a misconception?

C’EST LA VIE:I think its pretty clear that I do love hip-hop, and the culture.I feel the biggest misconception is that I am ONLY “hip-hop”, but there is so much more to me musically.

SONDRIA:Who are some of your musical influences? Favorite artists? Independent and Mainstream.

C’EST LA VIE:I feel like this list could go on forever.I am constantly meeting new people who inspire and influence me musically.Most of the people who influence me are those that I know personally.My list of favorite artists can go on forever as well.Depending on my mood, there are many artists that are my favs.Lauryn Hill (mid to late 90’s), Erykah Badu, Janelle Monae, Little Dragon, Bjork, J. Dilla, Flying Lotus, Coldplay, Portishead, Bob Marley and more than a handful of IE/LA independent artists (Too many to list).

SONDRIA:Why do you spin records?What perception of music do possess that makes you think it’s important for your to interpret that to the people.

C’EST LA VIE:I spin records because I love it; that simple.I perceive music as a dichotomy of stillness and motion.As a DJ, most of the time, it is my job to get people from one extreme to the other.I truly believe there is an art to playing the right songs at the right times.It’s what separates Great DJ’s from Good ones.It’s definitely something that I am always working on.

SONDRIA:What would you say your “purpose” is?What do you think you’re life is supposed to be dedicated to in order to contribute to the Common Good.

C’EST LA VIE:I believe music is just as potent as any drug; instead of your bloodstream, it shoots straight to the soul.So I would say my purpose is to get you high, off music.As long as I am dedicated to doing what I love while simultaneously creating something others can relate to and feel good about, then I am definitely contributing to the Common Good.

SONDRIA:What keeps you diligent when pursuing a goal?

C’EST LA VIE:Passion! When I set goals, it’s always something that I am passionate about.When you’re passionate about something, it’s very hard to lose focus.

SONDRIA:Tell me about kung fu flicks.What’s your favorite? What was your first?

C’EST LA VIE:I do have a love for Kung Fu flicks.I don’t have just ONE favorite.I’d have to say Bruce Lee classics like “Fist of Fury” or “Enter the Dragon” along with Jet Li’s “Fist of Legend” and Tony Ja’s “The Protector” are some of my favorites.I cannot remember my first flick, although I’m sure it was something from the Kung Fu Theatre show that aired on tv back in the 80’s.

SONDRIA: How’d you get into watching them?

C’EST LA VIE: My Father would record the Kung Fu Theatre show on VHS and he’d sit around and watch them.Being the daddy’s girl that I was, it was only a matter of time before I started watching them with him.

SONDRIA:Are there any other aspects of Asian culture you find yourself gravitating towards? If so, tell me about them and why.

C’EST LA VIE:I can’t say that I am.Although; they do have a beautiful culture.

SONDRIA:If you could have anyone mentor you—historically or presently—who would it be and why?

C’EST LA VIE:I cannot choose anyone that I do not know.All of the people who have mentored me thus far, I would not trade for the world.=)

To find out more about DJ C’est La Vie, including upcoming events, follow her on Twitter: www.twitter.com/DJCestLaVie.

LOVE & WATER,

Sondria

In the Inland Empire and much of Southern California, BrickToYaFace.com is the quintessential media center for everything hip hop. From blogs to videos to hosting fundraising events, beat battles, and artist showcases, they have it covered. If the Empire was the human body, Noa James and Lesa J would be the heart—pumping inspiration all the way from the tips of the fingers writing this blog to the feet stomping on the floors of The Common Ground. Today I’m getting inside the head of the feminine side of the team, Lesa J.

SONDRIA:Lesa J, how do you see hip hop in the Inland Empire and how do you bring that vision to the rest of the world?

LESA J:The thing about the Inland Empire music scene as a whole is that we are very acceptant of new music, new sounds & new genres. Out here, for most of us music isn’t just something we listen to but it’s more of a lifestyle. With bricktoyaface.com, anyone from anywhere has access to our site; we like to showcase new talent & artist who don’t get love that they deserve. That’s why we show love to everyone & listen to everyone’s music.

SONDRIA:Why do you think your site is so vital for the hip hop scene, locally and abroad?

LESA J:Locally, I know we are one of the few sites that are predominately Hip Hop based. Noa is an emcee and we both love Hip Hop, so of course our site would be for the Hip Hop community. We live the Hip Hop scene whether it’s in I.E. or L.A., we make sure our readers know what’s going on. We post flyers for different upcoming shows but we also post flyers about local events like job fairs or events local businesses are having. As for abroad, we’re letting our readers learn about the talent we have out here & hopefully they enjoy the talent & artist can gain new fans.

SONDRIA:How do you determine what content to post to bricktoyaface.com?

LESA J:We listen to everything that is sent to us, if we’re familiar with your music will post it up right away, if we’re not we’ll listen to it and if we like it we’ll post it up. Also, if we see you putting in work we’ll show you love. The mainstream stuff we post is just whatever we like and whatever we think our readers should or would like to see.

SONDRIA:What artists inspire you most?

-as far as making sure you show support via the blog and/or in person by whether it’s purchasing clothes or coming out to events.

LESA J:The I.E. music scene is what inspires us the most, that’s why we try to be at every show and every event that is going on in the I.E. I love going to shows and seeing an artist that I like perform the songs that I like, I enjoy the whole experience of a Hip Hop show and event.

SONDRIA:We see you at shows putting in work ranging from recording performances to collecting money at the door, but is there anyone else helping out that you’d like to acknowledge? Anyone working behind the scenes we might not know about?

LESA J:Noa & I do just about everything. As for the Common Ground, DJ C’est la Vie is the resident DJ; GLK & Nerd Bandit does our photography, M16, Ramone Jones & Curtiss King host and just recently we found someone to do the door for us. As for the bricktoyaface.com, Noa & I do it all, posting stuff, editing footage, and updating everything. Everything that deals with bricktoyaface.com Noa & I take care of it.

SONDRIA:What upcoming hip hop projects are you excited about? Independent and Mainstream? Why?

LESA J:I’m excited about all projects that is coming out of the I.E. and the Black Cloud Music camp. I’m excited for projects that are dropping that are coming from artist that I know personally. Faimkills is dropping a project soon that I’m excited to hear, Jynxx is dropping a project soon that I’ve heard and can’t wait for everyone else to hear; he’s actually rapping and it’s a dope solid project for his first release. Ab-Soul is about to drop Long Term 2, all his leaks have been dope and on repeat so I can’t wait for that. Jazzie is dropping an R&B mixtape, she leaked Obsession, which I love so I can’t wait for her project. The fact that people are making music and doing projects is exciting.

SONDRIA:Are there any segments or other types of projects you’re planning to add to the blog soon? What are your future plans for bricktoyaface.com?

LESA J:We use to do artist interviews & we want to start that up again. We want to just keep building & branding bricktoyaface.com; we do the Common Ground but we want to get involved in bigger shows and festivals. We want to become a legitimate company that handles events, not just hip hop events or music events but we want to do all events.

SONDRIA:Where would you like to see hip hop go this year? What are you hoping changes, stays the same, or goes harder than ever?

LESA J:I definitely want to see more fans of hip hop come out to more shows, we need more support for the local artist. Independent artist need to be more professional and really learn the business. Hip Hop needs to come back to the people, where artist and fans have more control, hip hop really needs to become a community again.

SONDRIA:What are some of your personal goals for the next few years? How prominent is bricktoyaface.com in your life plan?

LESA J:I’m going to be bricktoyaface.com for life. Even if it’s not a blog anymore it will be our promotion company. We want to one-day throw big hip hop festivals like Rock The Bells & Paid Dues. But also, we want to make a difference in the world not just hip hop, that’s why we do charity events. Our goal is to doing everything and anything to keep bricktoyaface growing and relevant in the community.

From designing and printing flyers to filming performances, Lesa J and

BrickToYaFace .com have the positive, independent artist’s back, and it has been a pleasure to display their contribution to the local hip hop scene on the front.

LOVE & WATER,

Sondria

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aim: BRICKTOYAFACE