Tatyana Fazlalizadeh is an artist… a woman of her time, taking control of her own narrative. Her portraits are so real, with a depth between the eyes of each face. Her messages are clear and insightful, bold and pioneering. Spike Lee didn’t “discover” her, but shout out to Spike for providing such a solid platform for Tatyana to stand on and share with the world a gem of a talent, a provocative, profound and beautiful spirit – telling stories with her brush. She’s Has It… Check her out at www.tlynnfaz.com/
It is increasingly difficult to understand how creative beings can speak of consciousness or getting to the next level and yet always be so angry. There is no need for that to continue. Meditate on a powerful and peaceful journey and begin to embrace the Hrt… The Hurt and the Heart. Healing is within reach.
Ntr/Neteru – Attributes for Survival
I am the almighty ANKH …Constructed from wire and wisdom Here to wreak havoc on the evil intentions And ascend onto high plains with the CREATOR FORCE – the dark matter.
The talisman that holds the power From which you reveal the strength and structure. I and the she, the goddess, in whom you dwell until that day when all turn inward to greatness. My magnetic level stings in birth, pierces the earth and becomes master of self.
" People think that I'm crazy, just cause I wanna be alone You can't depend on friends to help you in a squeeze We all deal with sh.t on our own And sometimes the beef can grow, get out of hand Yeah, you know it gets full blown I never said that you mean the world to me Maybe it's best that you never know "
I see you. I need you. Quench my thirst. Spark my fire and inspire my verse. Cause me to let out the lion’s roar …with your name in the growl. The sweet Goddess. I need my Muse. Awaken my spirit and give me strength with your attentive Beauty. Demand that I stand strong in the winds of change and in the dull moments, pull the inventive fire from my gut. And I will demonstrate the potency of your power (womb)manifested through art. The world will soon recognize the impenetrable nature of our existence and part like black sea. Allowing space for you and me. We create naturally.
Nubia, Kush, Kamit, Qamit, Sudan, Alkebulan – the treasured land of burned man. Tanned and toned and tuned for excellence.
I am the S(O)N of all. I am the all. I embrace the call. The inner God-Body, created through strands of greatness. Check this and never forget. I will not apologize for my truth or your enslavement. It has been a long journey and I shall travel on the boat along the waters of NU. I was born on the Nile. Where grand temples stand strong. Where the scrolls lie patiently – potent and pressing on in divine order.
Where do we go now? Newgrounds, Pillowfort, MeWe? What happened? Too much porn addiction or just some conservative, self-righteous influence that truly caused for Tumblr to bend and cower? It was a bit unbelievable until it actually happened.
Well, indeed a number of people have migrated to MeWe, and Colors of a Nudist led the way for many. It was such a dope Page in Tumblr, opening the minds of those who were on the fence about letting go and living a natural life. They promoted the various nudist gatherings across the globe, offered serious encouragement, and even good conversation if you needed. Essentially, they were the ideal social media platform for naturists of color in particular, and all naturist in general. It is inevitable – things change… and we will have to wait and see how this goes! (Fingers crossed) Find them by clicking the logo below.
Strangers happening, why do we find ourselves dangling haplessly, not in control of our lives. Intersect minds, revolution in front of the farce of the fitness and jurors and witness, we despise. Bring down the light of truth and freedom. We, ring in the night and enter the kingdom, when love and potion and distance and motion and knowledge of self, gains momentum …at last we will rise! Strangers…. Finally forcing the shackles to break, to bend and to mend, to reach out and remake (from the lies.) Here we go – one, two… pressing the ego to lay down the cloak and create the new dream in our eyes.
everyone searching for love, looking for blessings from high up above, we... lounge and frown, complain, restrain, we... break, remain, relinquish redemption for pleasure's exemption then die... ...because we don't rise, we cry, we lie, to ourselves, denying the truth of the real, get loose and reveal our weakness to the world.
We wear the Scarlet letters on chest and back and breast, in fact… We act like we good, move back in the hood, we learn to let go, when we focus and flow, The time comes to realize that our lies have crossed the skies and placed us in dungeons of destruction. Infiltrated with dirty deeds when we should have been finding mates and planting seeds. Future flying by, writing, just passing time. Production eludes, counselor concludes, that we need to lift up the burdens and blame, we lost the first game, but have chances to advance when we work the plan, travel the land and make the best of our tainted memory.
Strangers we call it cause love came too quick, friends look like dicks and curves deceived our minds, made us devils in flight, and third eyes went blind. And so consciousness conquers when virtue takes hold. The slips and stumbles be damned, and be bold. Mask coming off, and replaced it with gold. As strangers, we embrace, the desire, to be cold.
Reaching far across the lands with my mystical arms. Understanding that truths were hidden and imposition was real, deeper than imagined. A desperate need for talisman and weapon. Find the SWORDS. Grip firmly, and return to the chaos and wilderness armed with slashers and strategies. The tools to defeat the madness. Brass and bronze and wood and steel. The mighty SWORDS represent, sharpened, carving earth being into GOD.
Showing the world the relentless and determined spirit, heading for a cosmic journey out of this realm and away from the shackles. Shedding the fears and false promises of a broken society. Reaching for stars, bursting with energy and higher vibrations. Sharps swords cut the tension and enemy and lies. Symbolic and special. No apologies on this space time continuum to F.R.E.E.D.O.M.
Exciting every brotha in her gaze, dumbfounded and twisted in her maze.
She is fire and desire, burning the souls of cash money makers and rhyme slayers alike. Intellectuals and sell-outs.
They all love this culture crooner, exemplifying the kuumba.
Frightening love maker, ’cause her sexuality penetrates the minds of many.
She be selective with the penetrators.
Only the way true Queen get down.
Not pointless pumping from clowns, only cultivators who plant the seed deep.
Deep into womb, exposing orange moons, the doula dances to her own rhythm.
Influencing the protégés, they are in need of courage and spirit and voice.
Still crushing critics with creativity.
Falling off the radar, then blasting the charts, hearts and souls of her love affair fans. This danger queen be bombing, sounding the alarm when the masses get caught up.
She spinning webs like cameras on celebs, coating and cloaking the eyes,
