Name: AuriaHometown: Atlanta, GeorgiaAge: 22Age You First Fell in Love: Somewhere in between 19-20Love Is: Love is different for everyone. It’s a feeling you can’t explain. When being with them makes you want to do better. It’s forgetting about yourself for the greater good.
Name: KeithHometown: Minneapolis, MinnesotaAge: 59Age You First Fell in Love: I've fallen in love in more ways than one, but I married my real deal at 20.Love Is: When you do things [for that person] without thinking twice, you do things without hesitancy, it's automatic. You do it all unconditionally.On Atlanta: I moved to Atlanta when I was 19 in 1973 and it has definitely changed. You know being from Minneapolis, I loved it down here. I went to Georgia State and there were so many beautiful black women walking around. Natural hair was the norm, it was everywhere. Our best pickup line was, "I love your hair." I moved to East Point and I remember when I called an apartment leasing office, the woman on the phone told me, "You better hurry, all these coloreds are trying to move in!" (he laughs), but that's how it was. Black people were more scattered, you'd never see as much black people as you do now in places like Stone Mountain or Cobb County. Things have definitely changed.On Music: Earth, Wind and Fire or Parliament, that P-Funk. We bought that automatic! There was no need to listen to a single first, we just went down there and bought the record. Our music was about the struggle, you could hear it in the music. This generation is more about money and drugs and sex. Except for Tupac.On Being Black: Your generation is proud of their accomplishments, what they've done, who they are. We were just proud to be black, that's all we needed.
Song: I Used to Love HimArtist: Lauryn Hill feat. Mary J. BligeAlbum: The Miseducation of Lauryn HillWriter: Lauryn HillReleased: August 25, 1998[audio http://blackloveproject.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/09-i-used-to-love-him.mp3]Do you remember the first time you knew you were in love? Head over heels, passionately, miserably in love? I do. I was driving down Wesley Chapel Road, leaving Decatur (It was a long ass way, he's from the 20 side of things. Extra points to whomever recognizes that reference.) It was a Saturday afternoon and there was a light summer rain falling, with a rainbow in the corner of the sky. Upon seeing the rainbow, I immediately burst into tears and thanked God. This happens every time I realize I'm in love with someone and has happened three times in my life. This time, my tears fell for a man who, throughout this blog, will be referred to as Mac. Mac was the love of my life, a part of the reason I began this project and the man who would eventually bring me to my knees.
One situation involved a young man/He was the ocean/And I was the sand/He stole my heart like a thief in the night/Dulled my senses and blurred my sight
He was tall and dark brown, with a full beard and mustache that grew from his face like thick thistle. He had a beautiful smile, perfect white teeth that would shine like the moon behind the darkness of his beard; he was everything to me. I was twenty-two, freshly graduated from college and experiencing what I thought to be my first heart break. Little did I know what was in store for me. Mac was a local musician who had slight fame once upon a time and was a followed artist in the underground Atlanta scene. This was during my independent hip-hop phase and he was one of my favorite artists. There was something about him, an invisible, magnetic force that drew me towards him. I was a fan and did not know how different the man behind the stage name would show himself to be.One Friday night (August 13th, which should have been a warning, as I tend to be superstitious) I decided to go out with a friend to get my mind off my sadness. There was a concert series atop a hotel roof and Mac was one of the artists performing. After his set, I stood in line with the rest of his admirers, walked right up to him and said "We should get together sometime." He looked at me in a way that I assumed meant he was going to say no; a look I would later come to know as one he would give when he was about to deceive me. Instead, he said, "How about we get something to eat and get to know one another?" And that was it, from that day onward and for a good six months he was the nucleus of my world.There are people we meet and have immediate chemical reactions to, there is no suppressing or denying the pull they have on you. And boy, did he have that pull. There was no one else. Nothing else mattered but his presence. I could tell you how many hairs grew from his coarse beard and the dimensions of his thick lips and the measure of the heat from his body as it laid upon mine. When he thought of me I could feel it, when he said my name, I would stop breathing, my skin would ache with desire at his mere touch. I was deeply in love. My first time being in love and it was beautiful. So in love that I intertwined my entire existence with his and lost myself in his being. And that is where the trouble began.When you are that invested in someone, it is very hard to take off your rose colored glasses. How can you, when they make every step you take feel as though you're walking on air? Usually, as it goes, you are forced to take those glasses off; when the thick air you've been walking on is pulled from beneath you and you've fallen flat on your face into the harsh grips of reality. My reality was having fallen in love with a man already spoken for. To learn that the person you love has a girlfriend (plus a few others, including myself) is some crazy shit, (I had no other way to describe the feeling). That shit is crazy and it's numbing and it's painful and it's embarrassing. And it was my reality. And I went mad. I literally lost my mind and myself for a moment, trying to understand how this could happen from the one person I loved the most. The person I loved more than myself. I would learn that he was merely a traveller, a vagabond who made temporary homes in the hearts of women who cried his name at night. These are the worst men to love.I will spare you all the details of how real the situation became, because I'm sure you have your own version of deteriorating love. It was bad and the bad lasted way longer than necessary. Almost two years we spent going back and forth with tears and sadness and anger and great sex and so on and so on. Then it stopped. For almost a year, no contact, no knowledge of his life. I'd finally stopped giving in to the urge of stalking his social media and what or how he was doing (including his new girlfriend) no longer mattered to me. It was within that year that I picked up the pieces of myself that I'd left scattered and began to place them back together, adding newer pieces as necessary. The rebuilding was slow and steady, but during that time, my spirituality, my self worth and respect grew stronger.
But my heart is gold see I took back my soul/And totally let my Creator control/The life which was His to begin with
A few months ago, I went out and happened to see him. See also: the powers of social media let me know that he'd be at an event I was planning on attending. Seeing him was such a gratifying and surreal experience, because I learned that he no longer moved me. I did not stop breathing, my heart did not flutter, I was not rendered speechless. We simply nodded at each other politely and went our separate ways.
I see him sometimes/And the look in his eye is one of a man who's lost treasures untold
What a beautiful feeling it is to not love someone anymore. It is almost as beautiful as falling in love. So it seems that love comes in two parts: the falling and the rising. It is our life journey to rise and fall, as we learn our lessons again and again until we understand their purpose. His purpose in my life was not to be an everlasting love, but temporary; to show me that self love is the most important love of all. It was the day he broke me that I became the woman I was meant to be. It was his time in my life that changed me from a naive girl to a wiser woman. And I thank him for that and will always love him for that. It is now that I have a better understanding of what love should be and it's nothing similar to what he showed me.I was ten years old when The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was released. I would sing along, but in my youth did not understand the heaviness of her lyrics. I did not know that one day they would be my fate. There are songs you are not meant to understand until it is your time to understand them. As a twenty-six year old who now knows what it is to love deeply and to lose love, this song means everything. I will always think of the three years of my life that included Mac, as my falling: the falling in love, the falling in sadness and the falling into dark corners where I did not know myself. Seeing him let me know that all of that falling led to the wonderful realization that I've risen.Let's Discuss: What lessons have you learned from falling out of love with someone?
Song: One Step AheadArtist: Aretha FranklinWriter: Eddie Snyder and Charles SingletonReleased: Released as a single in 1965Sampled By: Mos Def, Ms. Fat Booty, Black on Both Sides, 1998[audio http://blackloveproject.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/03-one-step-ahead.mp3]Most of us have experienced the full cycle of a romantic relationship. You will meet a stranger; at the supermarket in aisle six, or while pumping gas or sometimes even at the God forsaken club, as described in Ms. Fat Booty. This stranger will have an inexplicable pull on you. Perhaps something superficial,
Ass so fat that you can see it from the front
or sometimes it is their pure energy that attracts you. Whatever the reason, this stranger will become a lover. You will become very important to each other. Days and weeks and months will pass and you will become intimate with this person; learning the things that make them hiss with pleasure, their history, the things that are important to them, their dreams and fears. They too, will learn every corner of you.
Weeks of dating, late night conversation/In the crib heart racing trying to be cool and patient/. . .Man I smashed it like an Idaho potato
Then comes love, or a fast growing lust.
Three months, she call I feel I'm running a fever/Six months, I'm telling her I desperately need her/Nine months, blue light symptoms when shorty's not around/I need more than to knock it down/I'm really trying to lock it down
One day, everything will be different. There will be a small catalyst that will change how you view them. Maybe you start to notice that they never say thank you or that they do not share the same goals or that they do not love you as much as you love them. That is the day that they become a stranger again. Isn't that how it works, sometimes? We meet a stranger who we learn, only for them to become strangers again. Both parties are guilty of finally showing parts of themselves they'd kept hidden under layers of sweet words and new love. New love is a beautiful thing, but it is blind. If it is a love meant to last, the concept of loving a stranger is wonderful, as you continuously discover something new about your partner.Ms. Fat Booty is a perfect three minute and forty-four second example of this very thing. Mos Def (Yasiin Bey) is such a great storyteller and creates vivid scenes of the stranger-lover-stranger cycle.I love that Mos Def (Yasiin Bey) chose this song, as he created a prequel to Aretha's 1965 single. One Step Ahead is a song that shows the aftermath of an ended love. When you are going through the motions of leaving a relationship, it is not often a clean break. For most of us, there will be months and sometimes years where we go back and forth between loving and not loving them. There will be days when you will take six steps ahead only to hear them call your name and take eight steps back.
One step is all I have to take/Backwards to be the same ole fool for you/I used to be/I'm only one step ahead of your arms/One kiss away from your sweet lips/I know I can't afford to stop/For one moment-
What I like the most about Mos Def (Yasiin Bey) sampling One Step Ahead is that he created a continuation of its meaning. A good sample is one where the original is looped in as a backdrop, but becomes the nucleus of the song, the essence and meaning never lost.
Name: Spy Boy HoneyHometown: New Orleans, LouisianaAge: 48Age You First Fell in Love: 37Love Is: When I'm happy to see them and being in their company is enough.It is my first night in New Orleans after almost two years and I am happy to be there. My sister and I venture to a small bar on Banks Street, aptly named Banks Street Bar and Grill, where we are meeting a friend of hers. Inside of the small catty-cornered building is a band of five men onstage. The lead singer, dressed in bright green feathers and beads, is a man called Spy Boy Honey. The music is beautiful. The kind you hear only in New Orleans and the kind that always makes me feel at home when I'm there. During intermission we stand outside in a small circle talking."You know, black men weren't allowed to participate in Mardi Gras.", Spy Boy says as we step away from the group. I'd told him the premise of my research and wanted to learn a bit about him and the influence New Orleans had on his life. He proceeds to give me a wonderful history stretching almost two-hundred years. "Slaves weren't allowed in churches, so their masters would leave them in Congo Square every Sunday, and there were exchanges of rhythms and beats, that is why second lines happen on Sundays, it's how it's always been done." For those of you who have never been to New Orleans, second lines are a traditional funeral processional or festive march of sorts; with a brass band leading and a "second line" formed behind them, with either caskets, people dancing, handkerchiefs or parasols in hand.Spy Boy is a member of The Creole Wild West, the oldest documented Mardis Gras Indian gang in New Orleans, "We call them gangs or tribes, it's almost like a cult society, where you learn things that no one else would know.", he goes on about Mardi Gras Indians. "We dress this way to pay homage to the Native American tribes, like the Choctaw, who took us in when we ran away. That's why we call Mardi Gras music Indian music. All the beading and feathers we use, we use to pay tribute to them. We spend all year sewing and Mardi Gras is when we get to show what we've done."The two things I love the most about Spy Boy are how much breathing history lives in one man and his love for New Orleans. "I left New Orleans after the storm and didn't listen to Mardis Gras music for almost nine months. Then one day I heard it and I just started crying. I had to come home, so I came on back to New Orleans." Mardis Gras to most is merely a chance to be belligerently drunk on Bourbon Street; but for Spy Boy, who has been a member of The Creole Wild West since he was six, Mardis Gras is his heirloom. It is the purest connection he has to his ancestors. He is a direct descendant of men who created a culture out of their rejection; a culture that is now a prominent face of New Orleans. Spy Boy Honey in his continuation of such traditions is their living vindication.
Song: Crazy LoveArtist: Van MorrisonAlbum: MoondanceWriter: Van MorrisonReleased: 1970Sampled By: Brian McKnight, Crazy Love, I Remember You (1995)[audio http://blackloveproject.files.wordpress.com/2013/12/1-03-crazy-love.mp3]For the last two years, I've had this obsession with the musical catalog of Van Morrison; a brilliant singer-songwriter from Belfast, Northern Ireland. I have this tendency to listen to the same album for at least two months. It is the only thing I listen to and the lyrics come to mean more to me on deeper and personal levels. Moondance is no exception.Some of you may know his most famous single, Brown Eyed Girl (1967). (Side Note: It is rumored that the song was originally called Brown Skinned Girl, written about his brown skinned lady). To those who do not know of him, he may appear to be just some obscure white singer. But if you really listen to his music, you'd find a perfect mixture of Irish folk, jazz, blues and soul; with a heavy influence of black artists like Muddy Waters and Ray Charles. His voice has this unique tone, an understated grittiness that rises and falls at the perfect moment, showing a great understanding of every word and rhythm in his song. He's a storyteller and I think that's what I like the most about him. A good amount of his stories are of love, described in great imagery.The third track of the album begins with Van Morrison singing in a beautiful rasp,
I can hear her heart beat from a thousand miles/Yeah, the heavens open every time she smiles/And I when I come to her that's where I belong/Yes, I run into her like a river song
The song is beautiful and simple, telling of a man who loves the woman who loves him. It is the kind of love that is comfortable and passionate. There are lovers who come into your life at the right moment and become the best complement to everything about you. This is the kind of love described in Crazy Love.
Yes, it makes me righteous/Yes it makes me feel whole/Yes, it makes me mellow down in to my soul
My earliest memory of this song is Brian McKnight's 1995 single, done in standard 90s R&B fashion, with syncopated drum machines and velvety vocals. It was a pleasant surprise to discover what I'd always assumed was a song written for McKnight, was a twenty-five year old love story waiting to be retold.Side Note: Van Morrison has a great way with words. His songs are poems set to rhythm and it comes out very organic. Because I love his wording, I want to share with you one of the greatest lyrics I've ever heard. From the title track of his 1968 album, Astral Weeks:
If I ventured in the slipstream/Between the viaducts of your dream/Where immobile steel rims crack/And the ditch in the back road stops/Could you find me?/Would you kiss my eyes?/Lay me down/In silence easy/To be born again
Happy Sunday!
Name: Wayne MannsHometown: Atlantic City, New JerseyAge: 58Age You First Fell in Love: I first fell in love when I was one years old with my mother, it was love at first suckle and my Grandma Pudding, but if you mean in the romantic sense, I was thirteen.Love Is: Love is giving.I also met artist Wayne Manns in Jackson Square, he was dancing to the brass band and selling his art. As we talked, he pulled a sketchbook out of his bag and began to draw me as we spoke. He'd just come back to America from studying art in Brazil and Cuba before that. I asked him what Cuba was like, as I've always been interested in Cuban history. We talked a bit about the African influence on Cuban art and music. When I asked him his definition of love, he burst out into a stream of conscience, speaking fluidly as he continued to sketch me:"I love my Grandma Pudding, I painted her, her portrait is over there (he points to a framed painting sitting against a wall). I always thought love was about getting, I learned this last week (he smirks as he looks up from his sketch) that love is about giving energy, time, talent. My music and my paintings are all about love, love of black folks. Invisible Man made me fall in love. Coltrane's My Favorite Thing makes me think of love. I've learned to not follow love, but to follow my heart, to not take any hostages. Love is making sure that I learn as much as I teach."