A Bit of Real Life, Artists, health

Heads Up!

I sometimes forget my audience here may not be the same people I know on social media!

Quick heads up, I’ve launched a GoFundMe campaign. If you wish to contribute, please hit the link for more information on recent events.

I’ve *also* got an article dropping next week that will elaborate on what I’ve been up to! Looking forward to sharing it with you. Feeling nervous too, but mostly excited.😬 Forever grateful for your continued support.

xo,

Nira

A Bit of Real Life, Blogging, death, Grief, The Interwebs

Bourdain Day

Bourdain. Remember losing him and Kate Spade back to back? Then another creative. And another. Funny how politicians never despair, the greedy never end it all. I didn’t know this dude, but I knew this dude. When I read his memoirs, I saw parallels in every bit of his life. In a “look at how crazy life can be, look where I ended up” kinda way. I think dude survived a bunch of times he didn’t expect to, you know? He always wanted to go farther, be riskier. He checked off every bucket list item, literally traveled to the ends of the earth following his passion. But he was also inward. He was in recovery. He had sad eyes. And I could see the black dog trotting beside him.

He ignored it a long time, I think. The companion who never eased up. And then he got too tired to fight the dog. It’s a very persistent animal, loud, aggressive, needy. Hard to wrangle.

I wish we still had his energy among us. I think he was one of the good guys, and that’s a shame. But I also have compassion for him and all the others holding frayed leashes and yearning for peace.

#BourdainDay

Blogging

War and Peace

Feeling meh today–the joints are feuding–but man oh man, do I love my evolving little slice of zen. I’m honoring my mom while parting with things of hers that no longer serve either of us. Last week I made a huge breakthrough, sorting the last wrecked closet of dusty clothes and hoarded bills. I also took apart an old dresser and found a bunch of unfinished knitting projects, as well as the brown & yellow African tablecloths on the radiator. Shedding and paring is part of the process, but extremely emotional for me. Two years in and my motherless journey has barely begun. With that in mind, I recognize and champion all progress.

That progression includes knowing I deserve a peaceful, comfy living space. It’s a powerful epiphany as I fight physically, emotionally, and most exhausting, legally. The legal fight’s been happening for 13 months—I didn’t think I’d last six. It’s a succession issue, and management has its teeth bared in a market where they can get 3x my rent out of someone’s parents. (Issa fact.) When my mom passed, I figured there was no point in “wasting time decorating” just to be thrown out after a flurry of court dates. Fast forward a year and I’m prepping for a deposition while fully embracing my NOW. Let the chips fall where they may, but today? This is my sweet, sun-flooded Clinton Hill haven. And as the clutter diminishes and my vision unblurries, I know I’m not ridding myself of my mom. I’m merely distilling the best parts of her: 100% proof. The little corner of this prewar is filled with her presence, and it made my achy Friday morning. #forAlice🦋 #ClintonHill #andstillIrise #knitting #flowers #africanart #poetry #memory #motherloss