The Move

Lovelies, I’ve been at a different location lately, and am practicing the art of simplicity. In the Spirit of that, feel free to continue this journey with me HERE (still in WordPress).

With love and gratitude,

AT

“I feel more when doing less.” – A. Tane

Muse

I’ve wrote our story a thousand times…muddied over by whatever the emotions of the moment say should actually go in. But I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided to tell it all, from where I sat. I’ve decided to tell it all and let the chips fall where they may. Because it crossed my mind that our story may not be ours alone; there may be others who are waiting for this story, out of all the stories they’ve heard, to set them free.

And because I am secretly hoping to resurrect my own heart from the crucifixion that is loving you.

© 2017. All Rights Reserved. Asha Tane.

Still Life.

We are obsessed with capturing women, like animals in the wild. We love them in frozen pictures and select moments, when they require no compromise or commitment. I suppose there is a certain charm to seeing a woman the way one would like to imagine her rather than as she is.

Soft and untouched…available without need…so strong in her vulnerability and endless in her giving.  We are obsessed with framing her, capturing her in still moments, as if she is no breathing entity, as if the only connection she needs is observation, and distant nods or whistles of approval.

Under this lens, she is all beautiful garden with no need for tireless cultivation and sweat. She is palatable for those who like skimming the surface of life until forced to go under.

Still, Life is not “still life” …

Life is a moving thing, ever shifting and changing, knowing that anything else is but a poor imitation of its true magnificence.

© 2017. All Rights Reserved. Asha Tane.

Why.

I talk a lot. I mean, a lot. 

But I don’t always say the things that mean the most to me, and I’m working on that. When I write, however, it’s almost pure substance, and very little symbol.

I started writing as a way to express what I was not allowed to say as a girl. Turns out, I’m pretty good at it. Also turns out that I LOVE this shit!

Win-win.

What I share here is an experiment in vulnerability, and a challenge to truth. Last year, I lost a dear friend because of my honesty on a blog. After that, I began censoring and became a little afraid. Knowing that folk may read it and take offense, I began to feel boxed in.

But after some time I’ve learned to own my truth. What happens between my fingers and these keys or my pen and the paper is my domain. Nobody else’s rules, laws or sensibilities rule that.

I write what I feel, how I feel it.

For every eye that takes time to read these words, thank you for sharing in the stinging sweetness of me. I hope you enjoy what’s to come.

~AT

 

Time.

Time tires of excuses:

be it fear, unknowing, somebody else, confusion and all other matters of “they-done-did-it” tales.

Time tires of excuses.

And women are a LOT like Time.

 

 

Best.

He said she thought she was all that, rolled his eyes and spat at the shadow from her heel. She looked over her shoulder, eyes lowered with a pose cut to kill.

“Im the very best of what’s to come,” she walked on, then stopped. Her voice rose like suns. “And then some.”

© 2017. All Rights Reserved. Asha Tane.

peak.

she came in soulful platters

ink splattered

t-shirt torn and nipples erect.

she burst forth like day

breaking night’s code

supanova level of explode

riding vaporous waves.

she bore all while showing nothing

inspiration for growth

resurrection and good will’s hunting

left them wanting…

to be more explored underskin lifted from within

they panted for want of her,

eyes drinking her through a pen.

© 2017. All Rights Reserved. Asha Tane.