About Your Stroke

Thursday, September 12, 2019

6:30 AM

Hey, You …

You already know I write. A lot.

Aside from Meechie Mail, and my essays, and everything for public consumption … I write … a lot.

I have journals and journals and journals. And, I’m a lot like one of my idols, Langston Hughes, I tend to journal even more when I’m either really sad or really happy. Not much to talk about, in between, just life, I guess.

Every once in a while, I go back and read what I’ve written. Read how far I’ve come. Read what I’ve left behind, and what I have yet to unlearn.

And, I write hard. Not meaning emotionally, but like hard, like I press in to the paper, tattooing the page with everything I feel, smell, see, and touch in the moment I’m writing.

You know that hard writing, y’all. When you’re finished and turn the page, the poor paper is so exhausted. There are welts on the other side, maybe even tiny rips. And, the paper even sounds like it’s been through hell, crackling softly from every crimp and every war-torn wrinkle you gave it.

When it comes to journal entries, though, I suppose I am imprinting all that is inside and outside of me, so I can leave it on the page.

All of this to tell you my friend, Natalie, gave me a fabulous set of pens.

They aren’t the ballpoints I’m used to. Not even gel ink pens, preserving the outside of my left pinky as I write … lefties understand.

The package says ‘fine tip’ and I think they’re meant to be drawing or coloring pens, since they come in beautiful, vibrant colors.

What I know for sure, is these are the best pens ever. For eva eva.

You know me too well, family.

The main reason is I cannot write hard with them.

They are too delicate and if I press too hard, my cursive becomes an indiscernible smudge of pretty colors bleeding profusely with no tourniquets in sight.

No, with these pens, I have to be very careful with the way I approach the page. I have to be very deliberate with my left hand. I have write as if I’m tracing the sentences in air, waiting for them to land on the page like a freshly laundered sheet.

I can’t use the full force of my left hand with these pens, no.

It will break the pen and interrupt my writing.

I have to be careful with my words because the paper might tear.

I have to be careful with my words because the pen and the paper weren’t made to be abused.

I have to be careful with my words because I was not made for hard writing about hard times and hard people and hard thoughts, without one beautiful pen stroke like a freshly laundered sheet.

These pens have taught me to write in a different way.

Not every thing has to be hard.

Not every thing requires the full force of my energy, attention, or effort.

Yes, but every thing deserves its own opportunity to be beautiful.

Every thing has within it space to see it, experience it, discover it, as if it were a freshly laundered sheet.

Every thing.

Every experience.

Every person … yes, even that one.

Write softly, family.

Be kind to yourself. Write beautiful things to yourself, put a stamp on it and put it in the mail, to yourself.

Write very softly.[1]




[1] But use all CAPS and all of the punctuation known to man, especially exclamations and question marks, wherever and whenever needed. 😝

These are the pens y’all. You can get them on Amazon for sure, and at most art supply stores. Do yourself a favor and get some. You won’t regret it!


  1. This is awesome! I used to write that hard and purchased fine tip pens and learned to lighten up! Did I know you are a lefty? I AM TOO!!

    Did you make your offering for Oshun?



    1. Hey mama! I should have know you were a lefty, too! That’s why we’re like dat. LOL No, I didn’t do the oranges, but I invoked gold and yellow all around me. And, we practiced goddess pose in her honor at yoga class.


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