Hargeisa animal market: counting the shillings - Somaliland by Eric Lafforgue on Flickr.
throwin’ (five) hunnids, hunnids.
(via tough-guy)
I love this whole Cranbrook thing because it’s reminded me that it’s time for my semi-annual watching/rapping along to all the freestyle battles from 8 Mile.
Left: Surma Woman (Ethiopia)
Right: Caucasian model
I (Re-)Read A Book, Vol. V: Sula by Toni Morrison
It just so happened that while I was re-reading White Teeth last month, I was also thinking about race and gender and the intersection thereof more than I have in years. I decided to revisit my favorite black woman authors, known and obscure.
Toni Morrison is, duh, at the top of that list. No one has ever written about black bodies like she did in Sula.
I read this quote from a New York profile of her yesterday, only a couple of days after finishing the book, and it sums up my feelings:
Having once spearheaded the elevation of black women in culture—Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, Oprah—she now finds herself struggling to cut them loose, to admit at long last what she’s always believed: that she’s not only the first, but the best. That she belongs as much with Faulkner and Joyce and Roth as she does with that illustrious sisterhood.
