Soft Luxury in Chicago
The Mariane Ibrahim gallery is a soft luxury that always rejuvenates my spirit. It was the ostentatious centerpiece of my Chicago experience.
A Familiar Resemblance
“Oh my gosh! I’ve never met anyone that looks like me!” These were the first words my teenage cousin, we’ll call her Sis, said to me after a decade of not speaking or seeing each other’s faces. A divorce when we were young meant that those who were too young to keep in touch, lost…
My Small Offerings
Some months ago, I was sitting in a meeting with several of my peers and the conversation wandered to the topic of pets and the, in my opinion, ever-exasperating debate of dogs versus cats. As we went around the room declaring our stances I was met with the usual appall at my calm pronouncement that…
My Journey to the Sacred Black Feminine
The things I learned and felt from this book were of such a personal nature that I wasn’t sure I wanted to share, and I went back and forth quite a bit on the decision. But, as we arrive at a year of Signed, N.A., and I reflect on the intentions I set at the…
Ịhụnanya, the price of vision
Of course after years of having absolutely no interest in romance novels, Akwaeke Emezi would be the one to reel me into page-turning devotion of their chaotic yet indisputably alluring protagonist Feyi. You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty begins with a sex scene *eye roll*. Personally, sex scenes are my least favorite…
A Birthday Off the Beaten Path
About a month ago, I received an enthusiastic text message from my best friend congratulating me for amassing a “whole crew” of friends with whom to celebrate my 25th birthday. Earlier that week I had in included her in a group chat of a whopping seven people with the purpose of making birthday plans. Given…
Black Women’s Exile
Exile. I’ve been pondering the concept quite a bit of late. Merriam-Webster has two definitions of the word: (1) the state or a period of forced absence from one’s country or home; and (2) the state or a period of voluntary absence from one’s country or home. There is only one word of difference between…
Searching for Treasure
He understood this, perhaps: that a child can long for a parent in a way that a parent can never long for a child. He was fully formed when I was born, while I have always been missing a father.Sankofa by Chibundu Onuzo From the first page of Sankofa, I was immediately concerned with perspective.…
Beauty and Beast: On Grief and Care
There is the Turkish word hüzün, which cannot be translated into English. Instead of meaning a simple sadness or suffering it denotes a collective, Istanbul-wide phenomenon that some call spiritual, some call nostalgic, but the one thing we know for sure is that the word exists because it is pridefully shared with others. The ideal is…
Musings on New York City & Migration
inspired by Patsy by Nicole Dennis-Benn dedicated to my parents, Peace & Sunday Ezeh, your migration is the foundation of my story As is the case of countless migrants, New York City was the very first place my dad experienced in the United States, and though he was there for what I imagine to be…
Loading…
Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and/or try again.
Follow My Blog
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.
Signed, N.A. 