The beginnings of “Kink”

“Kink” Is the one womyn show that I am currently creating. It came from many conversations that I have had with conscious womyn in the Chicago community who have accepted their natural hair, bodies, and social justice responsibilities, but seem to neglect their sensual sexual side. It is so taboo to be conscious and sexually open. I do not mean promiscuous, I mean taking the stereotypes of black womyn as over sexual beings and reclaiming our right to be sexual. I want to explore this topic from a very raw controversial place, then of course I will scale back…maybe, for the actual performance. Who knows, perhaps this will be an offensive masterpiece.

So far I have my first image that I want to use for the poster/flyer/any publicity. I know that seems to be jumping the gun, but I am a visual person so pictures speak to me first and foremost. So while at my last photo shoot with the wonderfully talented Tony Smith of Lovelace photography I was given a corner of a room, two springs, a wooden chest, and some sick house music.

He got the image he needed for his series “Noir Erotique”


I was amazed by this work and wanted to see other images that we shot. That is when I came across this image…


…and this is the image that launched me into the beginnings of “Kink.” From here I began to write my first piece which may or may not make its way to the performance, but is definitely a catalyst for more writings and choreography to come.

Kinky Rhythms

Because we are sexualized we can not be sexual.

These chains,ropes,and sheets

we can not detach from our oppressors.

It’s cotton!

It’s gotten, quite out of control.

My barrels are full I am carrying my load,

but not yours,

you are your new master, but you only know how to lead like your master,

you’ve mastered the technique

of hiding what is yours.

What is rightfully yours?

These chores and house duties are are huge drop offs from kingdoms,

and queendoms we ruled.

They were ours, are ours,

connected to our hips,waist,thighs.

Again, hiding

from those hands that think they own,

from our own

who subscribe to such foolishness,

from ourselves.

Those dances

that loosen our hips that were tightened by ignorant lust.

These thrust are not for deeper penetration, but for mental stimulation

outside of a weak rhyme scheme

these hips were gyrating to real beats,

that cowhide:

thump,thump, ba bump,babahbabahbadahbabah.

We dropped low to get closer to the earth

and jumped and bounced our anatomy’s

to catch the trip-pi-lets, and syncopated boom-clats.

I am the body electric.

I am sexy, I do sexy, I be sexy,

like in that self love kind of way.

With double helix coils freeing finally

from straight shafts of chemical bondage or heated conversations of conformity.

That unruly curl.


shapely, textured, shift of consciousness springing out with bounce,

giving non linear expression to unspoken boundaries.

Uncombed knots of torturous pleasure.

A pick not a brush to get through.

I need more than a stroke because these kinky parallels are real.

From head to toe, we are kinky.

These are my truths.




One thought on “The beginnings of “Kink”

  1. Tears all the way through. This is so so REAL. It started with the image, the tears. Then reading the poem i thought of Sharon saying, Imagine if we got black womyns hips back underneath them. I think of the womyn in my family frightened of or foregoing their own sexual exploration and/or sensual healing self-love because the clearest sense of self worth they got in this society was by caring for others, doing house work, and working their asses off to keep up appearances to be accepted by white folks and move forward as much as they could. All the while cursing the way things were, making damn sure there children got a some black history they weren’t getting in school in the few hours they had between jobs and cooking meals… i.e. no time for self love, and if there was it wasn’t on the priority list- Especially healthy sensual self love…Was there even a true understanding of what this means? Are we just now figuring it out as young Black Womyn in a 2013 America where I find that i have freedom to explore my sexuality (thanks to those who rooted me in simple basic rights in this country, grandma! mom! and everyone else who fought!) After centuries of protecting and hiding and fearing with our bodies, here we are working out the Kinks. And not to make them straight, but in a way that means to see what is really there and listen. The rhythms of an open expressive truth are there in the kink ready to work us into a sexy and powerful ass present moment. Listening moment by unwinding releasing, beautiful listening, listening moment. LOVE.


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