Jendelland

Labrinth for Live Magazine

2012-02-20T12:07:00.000Z

My first ever cover shoot for the ever wonderful Live Magazine.

I'll post some more images from the shoot when I get the chance. Last week as an intern and I'm off on holiday on Friday. Fun times.

The Great British Day Trip

2012-01-02T09:22:00.001Z

Some photographs from a day trip I took to Oostende in Belgium, back in July.

The journey was more interesting than the destination...unfortunately.

Taken on my Olympus OM-10, Fuji Color C200 Film.

Happy New Year, Folks!

Live Magazine: Winter 2011

2011-11-29T21:25:00.000Z

Tearsheets from Live Magazine Winter 2011.

This was the Live Magazine issue that went national! And the first main edition that I've contributed to! (I had some images printed in the spin-off DEADLINE collaboration with the Guardian.)

I was overjoyed to be asked to contribute a visual to the article on the Feminism. I decided to go down a different route and contribute an ILLUSTRATION. Yes, that's right an ILLUSTRATION. I'm really proud of it actually. Pushing out the creative boat a bit, but don't worry I'm not jumping ship any time soon.

Also covered the Cooking With... feature as well.

View the full magazine here.

Or search your neighbourhood for your own copy.

The First Lady

2011-11-11T21:46:00.002Z

It's winter.
It's cold.
But I've been keeping busy so it's all good.

The SEV*NFOLD website finally launched.

And I got interviewed by The First Lady.

This is just the tip of a brightly coloured iceberg.

But I'm too busy to sit and blog, even though I've got like a million things I really wanna blog about!

The PhotoVoice Auction is fast approaching and it's all terribly hectic and exciting!

So anyways, I'll leave you with some images from the SEV*NFOLD lookbook shoot.

Model: Obui

Photographer: Jendella

MUA: Flow

Stylist: Tasha

My Print Debut: DEADLINE

2011-10-14T18:37:00.001+01:00

Call me eager but I've just got my first tearsheets and I'm quite excited about it.

Live Magazine collaborated with the Guardian/Observer and produced the one-off magazine DEADLINE which featured the lovely Emeli Sande on the cover.

Two of my images also featured in the magazine for articles about the Olympics and being a young black male in Britain...

Hopefully this will be the start of many more posts about how great it is that my work is getting published. Amen.

Mr C'mon's 'Alpha' Cover

2011-09-30T11:55:00.000+01:00

I shot Karl, better known to the masses as Mr C'mon, earlier this year for Where The Devil Won't Go.

Yesterday he released his long-awaited mixtape and I was pleased to see that an image I shot of him in studio for a different project was used for the cover.

Here are few more images from the shoot:

You can download Mr C'mon's, aka The Punchline King, 'Alpha' from www.shouniversals.co.uk for FREE.

A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

2011-09-20T21:19:00.000+01:00

Last Friday I went to The Frontline Club where they were screening a two part documentary called 'The Nigerian Connection'. The film explored the unfortunate connection between Benin City and Castel Volturno in Italy through the trafficking of women and young girls to work as prostitutes.

The film was fascinating, upsetting but ultimately a more balanced production than I'm used to seeing about Nigeria. Towards the end of the Q&A session, a Nigerian lady in the audience made the statement that contrary to the majority of the opinions that had been expressed thus far, she believed that the film was actually West Africa/Nigeria-bashing like many others had done before it. "This problem is a very localised problem and the poverty that was shown in the film is not a true reflection of Nigeria..." was her general point. Cue a back and forth debate between the impassioned Nigerians in the room that had to be curtailed to be continued in the bar downstairs.

Although I didn't agree with the view that the film was Nigeria-bashing, I sympathised with the frustration felt by the lady and a few others. We are all quite familiar with the dominant discourse that involves Nigerians in the West: 419, immigration, child witches, black magic, poverty, weird religion and millionaire pastors who swallow the desperate offerings and donations of the poor. So familiar are we that many young Nigerians now adopt this discourse when talking of themselves and their country, jokingly threatening to call immigration on each other or many a live host mocking the prosperity preaching and offering calls in a Nigerian accent to fill time at a show or between sets.

We are so sensitive to this continual Nigeria-bashing that when issues like sex-trafficking are brought to our attention we are often immediately on the defensive. "Why won't the Western media show the good in our great country/continent?" is the desperate cry but I ask "Why should they?" To put it bluntly, it is not their problem. Misrepresentation of Nigeria and other African countries does not directly affect or offend the middle class, white, male majority within the media industries; bad news is the best news to draw ratings and an audience, and if you really wanna get deep into it such discourse serve the dominating white patriarchal cause well.

Self-Definition

The problem, although to we may argue is caused by them, it is ours to solve. Who better to address the issues of Africa and our respective countries than Africans in the diaspora?

A good example that I have recently come across of self-definition is The Mis-Adventures of Awkward Black Girl series by Issa Rae. The promo video introduces us to "J" the Awkward Black Girl by addressing the stereotypes often associated with black women. The voiceover says "I'm not angry, I'm not ghetto, I'm not loud…etc…etc…I'm just awkward…and black…"

What I like about this series is that Issa Rae renegotiates the parameters of what being a black woman is without getting on her high horse about it. She's not attempting to speak for the whole of black womanhood, she's not got some crazy moralistic agenda (as far as I can tell) she's just doing her thing…

When it comes to the reputation of an entire country, I admit it is more complex. There are so many facets of Nigeria that need to be adequately addressed; from the burgeoning creative hub of Lagos to the splendor of Abuja to the malignancy of political corruption and religious tension. It all needs to be addressed, and it is high-time that it is Nigerians that address both the good and the bad of Nigeria instead of leaving it to white Western media to do that for us. Only then will we see a well-rounded representation of our homeland, and I charge the same duty to all Africans who are tired of the one-sided poverty-porn that we see flung across our TVs.

But here I stress the importance of critically looking at both the good and the bad. Combatting mis-representation doesn't mean ignoring the uglier side of life. This would be an injustice to our countrymen and women who are struggling below the poverty line, who are victims of human trafficking and other injustices. We need to celebrate the good, elevate the marginalised and propagate discourses of activism and change.

When I researched for my dissertation I watched Chimamanda Adichie's TEDtalk over and over and over. Her talk on the danger of the single story not only supported my dissertation but it became a manifesto of sorts for much of my university work. You need to watch it for yourself but I will end on this quote:

"Stories matter. Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign, but stories can also be used to empower and humanise. Stories can break the dignity of a people, but stories can also repair that broken dignity."

Fin.

PS. I need to find a really cool and memorable way to end my blog posts. Suggestions on a postcard please...

PPS. Everyone wondering where my photo-work is, don't worry my friends...soon come! Juggling a couple projects at the mo'... *wink*

Untitled - The Sequel to 'Heart Disease'

2011-09-18T18:37:00.001+01:00

Performed this poem at Writer's Lounge last night. It was written especially for the London theme and it reflects where I am not now, post-Heart Disease stage.

I came to London to seek my fortune, like many have done before me
But what I didn't realise was there are those who were born in London and still scramble for their own fortune desperately - perhaps this should have warned me...
But nevertheless I pledge allegiance to the flag of the divided universes of London

The day that I traversed the galaxy of the M25 officially
It felt like I was bathed in hot concrete
The city streets lay before me
Open ended possibility
But the golden lamps that lined the yellow brick road of my childhood
Were now more like garish yellow elipses
Prompting to me to carry on walking
Though never suggesting where to
The London that had seemed so alive at 15 years old, at midnight in Manor Park
As I walked to the corner shop to buy sweets, sweets and more icecream - just because I could
Well at 18 it seemed haunted and restless
As I walked to the corner shop to buy cookies, agege bread and tropical juice
To soothe the roving waves of insomnia
And accompany the creeping tentacles of depression

Now four years in, four years on
And London has dented the edges of my accent
To varying degrees, depending how far north I'm standing
London has sharpened the teeth of my cynicism
No more wide eyes in the fight to hang on to my idealism
I found that London is one big gaping canyon
From Kensington High Street to Old Kent Road
That many thousands fall in treading the waters of dreams unfulfilled and long-forgotten hope
But as I stare into this great abyss
And my heart quickens in my chest
I can't help but feel excited
Because the lesson that London has taught me is that I was not born a winner
Life is Russian roulette in that respect
But I promise you I will die one
This city can bring out the worst in you
Or make you into the best that you've always wanted to be
So that's why I now pledge allegiance to this city of divided destinies

September

2011-09-05T15:44:00.000+01:00

For once I was actually looking forward to the arrival of September.
Probably because I don't have to return to education, so the first few weeks of September doesn't feel like the final dregs of summer being thirstily drained from a paper cup.

My first autumn without an educational institution since...1993, I believe. That's eighteen years of nervous Septembers, not knowing quite what to expect, but wishing that it would all be over quickly. Yikes. I feel old.

I haven't blogged for [ridiculously] long time. At least in Jendelland it is ridiculous because my brain is burgeoning with half written essays, photographic series unpublished and virgin poems that line my notebooks and folders like whispered secrets.

A lot has happened though but here are two highlights:

I've started an internship at PhotoVoice. And I love it.

I'm now 22 years old. Note I said 22, not 21+1, not 18+4, TWENTY-TWO. I've only been 22 for six days and I feel like it's the age I've been waiting for all my life. No false starts, no flaky promises, just two beautiful curves.

So much to do with my first free September, so much to do. Photographs, essays, poems and creative concepts unrealised. My to-do list is creaking under the weight of promise.

I intend to make this a September to remember.

PS. I'm performing some spoken word and poetical pieces at Writer's Lounge on 17th September at The Pipeline Bar near Liverpool Street.

Writer's Lounge
Saturday 17th September 2011
The Pipeline Bar
94 Middlesex Street
London, E1 7EZ
£6 before 6.30pm, £8 thereafter
Facebook event page is here.

STOP THE PRESS!!!!!

2011-08-14T18:33:00.000+01:00

Finally redesigned my website and added some fresh work.

Tell your Mom'n'them.

Peace.

CO.CA Boutique

2011-08-11T15:04:00.000+01:00

Been an absolutely mental few days with riots and what not and once again young people are the scum of the earth etc etc etc. So now let's celebrate some young people doing something great with their lives. Myself included... ;)

I've been working with Florence for a while on shoots for her online boutique, CO.CA Boutique. The website has finally launched so make sure you check it out for some unique garments for yourself or the lady-folk in your life as well as beauty services and some other unique stuff.

Was quite pleased to see so much of my work on site, it's great to see your images in situ as part of a finished product and the site looks great so well done to her and her team.

Here are a few images from the most recent shoot we did at the end of May...

Make sure you check out the site too for more of my work and more great clothes and accessories. Can see a few beauties that I might need to crack out the Visa for...

In Memory of Becky and Amy

2011-07-25T23:51:00.000+01:00

It's been a strange weekend. Found out about the passing of my former flatmate and Amy Winehouse and the tragedy in Norway. It's strange times we live in. A busker on the underground was playing 'Mad World' today and a physically felt a lump rise in my throat. How unfortunately appropriate. I felt like it was a scene from a film.

I wrote this poem nearly three years ago now. It seemed appropriate in the context of Becky and Amy...

Three Steps by Jendella

May I Present To You...SEV*NFOLD

2011-07-24T20:00:00.000+01:00

This baby of mine has been a long-time coming. I have always wanted to design tees and I've designed a fair few in my spare time that have made it onto actual people's backs as well as lived in my secret sketchbooks, but despite the jonesing in my bones I've had to put this idea on the back burner because of Uni-blah-blah-blah.

But no more, my friends, no more.

Super excited about all of this. Check out website, get yours mitts on the sample collection before it sells out, give me some feedback!

Sorry fella's it's a female focused line, so you're gonna have to wait before you get your own Sev*nfold piece of wearable art, but ladies there's no excuse.

I took my wares down to Lambeth Country Fair over the weekend and it was a definitely an experience. It rained, it thundered, I didn't wear wellies so my white Converse have been violated but I learned a lot, got some great feedback and it's just inspired me even more. Positively bubbling over.

So yeah, check out the website and watch that space. It's about blooming time.

Dizzee + Photography = WINNING

2011-07-22T12:10:00.000+01:00

Last week Tuesday my homie over at LaSugarLace invited me to an exclusive event at a gallery in Shoreditch to unveil the winner of Bing's Your Britain photography competition. The winning prize was £10,000 and the opportunity to have the winning image displayed on Bing's homepage for 24 hours.

I'd heard about the competition a couple of months before after reading an interview with Dizzee Rascal, who was the competition ambassador of sorts, and kicked off the competition with his own photographic take on his Britain. Dizzee's first album was the soundtrack to some significant parts of my life, the only reason I even went to Justin Timberlake's concert when I was fifteen was because he was supporting, so photography-related event + the opportunity to meet the guy who made me wish I was a couple years older, lived in Bow and was a grime DJ = WINNING.

There were five winners of each category (local Britain, natural Britain, Britain at night, secret Britain and urban Britain) and one over all winner.

Carl Haynes' overall winning image.

Big up all the winners, got to talk to a few and they seemed nice enough chaps...

Would have been nice to see some female photographers represented within the winning circle, but photography is an incredibly male dominated industry, as I am continually reminded...

The event was a nice one all around, the British theme ran throughout; Pimms and Gin & Tonic beverages, while the canapes were mini shepherds pies (which were beautiful), homemade pork pies, asparagus and cheese dip (we gorged ourselves on this one) and MINI FISH AND CHIPS (legendary).

Loved my bag of freebies as well which also contained a limited edition print of some of Dizzee's work (got my favourite one as well in the lucky dip = double win!) and one of those gorilla pod tripod camera stand things (no more Myspace-type-arm-in-the-foreground pics).

Now for the pics!!

Not the most flattering, but I'll still facebook that same way...

I got this as a print

P.S. Big up Ben Drury who was also one of the judges and Dizzee's creative director and the guy behind the iconic Boy in da Corner cover. Love his stuff!

The Red Pill

2011-07-19T21:40:00.000+01:00

Time flies when you're ~~having fun~~ trying not to be a bum.

I don't know a bigger anti-climax than being a 21st Century Graduate. You work yourself into a manic frenzy the final weeks before hand in...then you hand in. Hurrah? Not quite. You've got two exhibitions to prepare yourself for, you think they're gonna be the icing on the cake, proof positive that your three years actually meant something! But after all the extra exertion with putting up your show and trying to make your professional debut to the creative industry and all that, all the people who invited don't turn up, you walk around drinking excessive amounts of wine before deciding to cut your losses, skulk off home and watch three films back to back before dozing off and dreaming that it's the day before hand in all over again. You wake up the next morning in a blind panic before practically melting into a pool of sweaty relief realising that you did all that crap four weeks ago. You're "free"...

Free to apply for a billion and one internships, jobs and placements, free to go to the handful of interviews that actually responded, free to leave wondering what the heck was that all about?! Why did they even bother to invite you in for a bloody interview if all they were going to do is flick through your portfolio in pained disinterest and check their Blackberry emails while you're trying to communicate how passionate you are about this opportunity while simultaneously trying to restrain yourself from slamming your chair into their foot in an attempt to get some human response from them.

Free to curse the financial institutions that forced their insidious overdrafts onto you and practically begged you to take their credit cards (luckily you painfully refused their sugar coated poison) and who prematurely rescind aforementioned overdraft that you have to fight tooth and nail for them to return.

But still you're free.

Free to read the media reports of staggering figures of graduate un/underemployment, free to be told that your degree isn't worth the paper it's written on, free to weep internally for the next generation who are going to pay EVEN more for EVEN less and free to wonder if you should have perhaps done an MA now rather than later because it might buy you a little more time and might possibly make some employer somewhere like you enough to actually maintain eye contact during an interview. You are also free to frequently remind yourself that you didn't spend all that money getting yourself through art college - paintbrushes, film processing and all, and also you didn't stack up that wonderful stonking pile of debt to end up answering phones at a call centre or waking up at 4 am in the morning to clean offices.

Then finally you receive your results and you weep with relief because SOMEBODY, SOMEWHERE recognises the blood, sweat and tears you've liberally offered up to the altar of higher education as actually meaning SOMETHING, and in some perverse way you feel a sense of satisfaction and validation because it's not because you're crap, it's because this world is bitter and cruel.

Well harsh realities aside, life is good. I made it out alive and I have enjoyed myself these last couple months - poor-house dodging aside. Here are some of the highlights...

My short film about Favour made it into the Degree Show moving image show reel.

My degree show installation for "Where The Devil Won't Go"

Kate Gilmore's performance art piece "Walk The Line" that I participated in at Exchange Square.

"Where The Devil Won't Go" at the exhibition at the Bargehouse, near Waterloo Station.

I would like one of these... Piece by Ness Wright.

My work in the Arden and Anstruther collaboration retrospective book.

Me and Dizzee - more to come on this...

Me and my brother at Lambeth Country Fair - more to come on this...

Congratulations to my fellow class of 2011. Political/Economical climate aside, we're the future baby!

One For Your Pickin

2011-07-07T16:23:00.000+01:00

Haven't posted anything poetry-related in a while...here's something special...

One For Your Pickin by Jendella

Written & Produced by Jendella.
Performed by Ruth.
Recorded, Mixed & Mastered by Aiwan Obinyan (Madam Mutant).
Many thanks to Seyi Ekisola and Maria Wilson for assistance with the Pidgin English.

Where The Devil Won't Go

2011-06-28T21:28:00.000+01:00

Been a whirlwind of activity recently. But to be honest I don't know why I didn't blog this sooner.

Where the Devil Won't Go is the biggie. It was the main feature for both my piece for Kingston Faculty of Art and Design 2011 Degree Show and also for the Step Trip Step show at the Bargehouse. All in all this project sucked most of my time and energy, a good deal of my money and it was 110% worth it.

The project focused around three guys I know, Terroll, Karl and Nicholas. They were once members of the notorious OC gang with formidable reputations and all the perks that go with it. But now they're not. It was a pretty intense project which involved interviews and my buzzing around them with my camera for a number of weeks. The editing process was brutal (and a big learning curve) but I'm really proud of the final product.

I don't want to say too much, really you have to read what these guys say about their lives for yourself because it really is something. But as a tease I'll throw in a few images from the project...

If there was a way I could get this book into the hands of school kids growing up in around estates for free I would...if you have any suggestions let's talk, these are three stories that need to be told. I knew these three a bit when I began the project but naturally through the course of the project I got to know them a lot better. One of things I was blown away by was the authenticity that just exudes from these guys when speaking to them. Honestly speaking, you would not have any idea that any of them were involved in such activities before, their previous personas seem a lifetime away in comparison to how mature, gracious and warm they are now.

Karl (also known as Mr C'mon) has received a bit of a media buzz recently due to his frank and transparent freestyle that appeared on Youtube, it received crazy hits in the space of a few hours and got coverage in The Voice newspaper as well. Here's the video...

The Beat Tape

2011-06-21T20:00:00.000+01:00

Quick one!

Photography and Design by Yours Truly.

Download your FREE 27 track beat-tape here!

Florence

2011-06-19T19:41:00.000+01:00

Love this portrait of one of my clients (Florence). We worked on a really great shoot a few weeks back and when the time comes I'll show you what we got up to.

I was thinking about black and white photography...it's a weird way to look at the world sometimes. We see all these wonderful colours but you kind of just filter them out and just think purely in terms of light and shadow. I know the trends in photography now seem to be the whole retro, seventies-type-colour-cast stuff, and I've been seeing some lovely images with that kind of effect but nothing beats black and white, man. Nada.

No Days Off

2011-06-16T14:04:00.000+01:00

Some new(-ish) work...

I like Favour. I like his music. I his work ethic. I like him as a person. He is a great guy.

One of the things I like about Favour is that his mixtape is 100% him. No fakery or facade, what you hear is what you get. I can't enthuse about it too much or I might come across as a complete fangirl, but just go listen for yourself.

So yeah, it was great working with Favour.

Here are some of my favourite images from the shoot:

Here's one I had a bit of fun with. Just because. =)

Walk The Line

2011-06-06T23:01:00.000+01:00

I'm famous!........kinda............

This week I'm taking part in a performance art project by the American artist Kate Gilmore. It's called Walk The Line and it's all about women in the workforce. We got a feature in the Evening Standard today. Super chuffed that I got ~~baited up~~ quoted. Makes me feel important in some way... *shrug*

Anywhoo, you can totally tune in online and watch the performance live between 8.30am and 5.30pm. You can also come down and see the spectacle in person. It's actually really striking! We got a lot of attention and at one point it got kinda emotional when I was thinking in my head about the grind that the females in my family put in to supply and provide for their family. I thank God for each and every one of them.

So yeah, come check us out in our nifty uniforms!

You can watch live here.

Kate Gilmore totally rocks and is a lovely person so you should check out her site too.

Georgina in Green

2011-06-05T12:42:00.000+01:00

Last Summer...

I have a degree in...

2011-06-02T10:17:00.000+01:00

That's right. It's come to that time of year once again. DEGREE SHOW SEASON.

For Art & Design students this here is the real deal, this is the graduation into industry, that crap with the cap and gown, that's just pomp and pagentry, that's to satisfy the parents and extended family who book tickets from all corners of the globe to see their beloved collect pieces of rolled up paper in a funny hat...

Kingston Faculty of Art & Design Undergraduate Degree Show 2011

Show Launch

Saturday 4 June

1pm-7pm

Public Opening

Sunday 5 June

1pm - 5pm

Monday 6 June - Thursday 9 June

1pm - 7pm

Friday 10 June

10am - 5pm

Admission Free

Limited Parking

Venue & Maps

Faculty of Art, Design & Architecture

Kingston University

Knights Park

Kingston KT1 2QJ

View Google Map

Download pfd map

By Train

Trains run regularly from London Waterloo to Kingston upon Thames station or Surbiton station (at least every 15 minutes).

The train journey takes approximately 25 minutes.

View TfL website to plan your journey: website

Car Parks

Parking on campus is limited, but there are several public car parks in Kingston town centre

For full details of car parking in Kingston, please visit www.kingston.gov.uk.

www.kingston.ac.uk/degreeshow2011

Time and Distance

2011-05-26T20:10:00.002+01:00

In April I went on a pilgrimage of sorts. I travelled to the house that my Grandad bought in the Dordogne region, in France. It was where my Dad spent a lot of his childhood with his siblings, and it's where I also holidayed a couple of times as a child. Unfortunately it was probably going to be my last visit as my Grandma is planning to sell the house.

I went with my Auntie and my little cousin, and it's strange how an area and a house can hold so many separate memories that are collectively tied together by blood and geography. We visited the surrounding areas and it was strange to think how three generations of a family (me, my auntie and my cousin) all played in the same pools, ran up and down the same dirt tracks and picked fruit from the same trees...

I documented the pilgrimage with film photography, shooting on my Olympus OM10 and Fujicolor C200 film. I went through ten rolls of film (not cheap these days!) and edited the images into an 84 page book.

You can buy this book from my bookstore on Blurb!

Fine Girl. No Pimple.

2011-05-25T10:37:00.000+01:00

Photography: Jendella, Make Up: Flow, Model: Flow, Art Direction: Jendella, Styling: Joint Effort

Apologies in advance to Flow because these images might cause a bit of trouble. She may find herself inundated by various gentleman callers, "it no be easy".

I love Flow, because she's an amazing friend, an amazing make up artist, someone I can truly rely on, an inspiring collaborator, and she ain't half bad to look at either.

I'm gonna miss her so much when she jets off to Belgique.

Ah, that's enough of the sappy stuff.

Flow is a blogger, business woman, and cosmetic scientist extraordinaire. She's the kinda friend you want to keep around, you know.

Check out her website to get your grubby mitts on some good, good cosmetics (that you probably won't find anywhere else in the UK). She really knows her stuff, so the quality is the best but the prices are affordable (I should know, I was her first customer - that's my claim to fame).

www.flowsboutique.com
madamflow.tumblr.com
@mdm_flow

This4That - Do Me A FAVOUR Please???

2011-05-17T01:06:00.000+01:00

This a uni project looking at ways of engaging young black women in critical dialogue, making an arena that is open to debate and discussion around topics on a personal and national scale that are relevant to them.

What I would like you to do is to hop over to thisthat.co.uk and take a look at one of the video blogs posted up. We have hot topics such as, "What's so bad about OG Niki?", "Is self-segregation detrimental to our progression?" and "Is it time to start talking about something else apart from race and race issues?"

The videos aren't long, just want one through, have a little think, drop your thoughts and move on (onto another one if you're as keen as mustard). I would appreciate it so much!

Peace, Grease and Chicken!

A Calculated Move

2011-05-15T13:48:00.000+01:00

I've been procrastinating.

I should be doing heaps of uni work.

BUT I did make myself a Tumblr blog.

JENDELLA'S SCRAPBOOK.

Don't worry I'm not going anywhere.

I love my Jendelland, but I wanna get my work seen by more people and Tumblr seems to be a great way to do it with that handy reblogging button. 76% of Tumblr blogs from individuals actually contain more reblogged posts than original content. OK. I made that statistic up. But you get my drift. Certain posts get reblogged billions (read hundreds) of times.

I dunno why I'm trying to justify it to you. Maybe I'm trying to justify it to myself.

If Cleopatra Was Black...

2011-05-14T23:01:00.000+01:00

Creative Direction: Jeni, Make Up: Flow (and Jeni in the case of Mary), Styling: Jeni, Models: (in order of appearance), Linda, Mary, Nicole and Yomi.

~~Now you've got two choices ya'll, pull over the car orrrr...~~

Sorry, random outburst of Jay Z lyrics.

What I meant to say was you now have two choices, you can leave here with your own conclusions and ideas about what this series is about (leave comments if you do, I'd love to know your thoughts), or you can click here and read what the actual idea and concept behind the series. Or you can do both and see whether we were on the same page...

White Privilege

2011-05-09T12:29:00.000+01:00

Chances are you read the title and thought "uh-oh, she's turning into one of them pan-africanist, black-beret-wearing, dashiki-clothed radicals". Maybe you didn't, but if I read the title on someone else's blog in the past I might have been guilty of such thoughts...

But wait, before you run away screaming. This video is really, very good. The guy goes in and there's no fist-pumping in sight. It really is for all white, black, asian, latino and martian people's benefit to know what exactly white privilege is.

Trust me on this. If you watch the video and you think it was a waste of your time, I promise you that I will take you out for coffee (or herbal tea in my case) and cake to make up for it. I promise.

I have to thank Ai aka MadameMutant for this one.

Lemme know what ya'll think guys and gals.

Life

2011-05-02T19:42:00.000+01:00

Feels like I've been in my own world for the longest time but real life keeps distracting me. Royal Weddings, Trump vs Obama - wait! Osama Bin Laden is DEAD?! What the heck?? Feels like we're living through history but I'm chained to my Macbook and Adobe Creative Suite, contact lenses itching, hanging on to sanity with by the skin of my teeth.

No, wait! Osama Bin Laden is DEAD?! Seriously?! Why am I finding this so hard to believe? I would like some [morbid, but infallible] proof!

Anyways, here's a sneak preview of a project I just wrapped. I went on a pilgrimage over the Easter break (it was entirely for Uni, believe me) and this is one of my favourite images from the project.

Intrigued? All will be revealed soon enough...

Until next time, peace, love and Photoshop.

Now For Something A Bit Personal...

2011-04-23T00:32:00.000+01:00

I've second-guessed this post about 5 times (and 2 to the power of 5 is guys? *dusts off maths textbook*). But I reckon the fact that it's late (and I should be asleep) will override my sense of self-conciousness...

This was an experimental piece that I finished a while ago. It was a cathartic exercise as well as exploring the theme of the bond between memory and place (you may have seen some posts I wrote about the same kinda thing). It was done for Uni, but I don't think it's going to feature in my official portfolio for a few reasons, but here it is anyway.

For your viewing...pleasure?

Untitled from Jeni Jendella on Vimeo.

So yeah, I went back to some places from my childhood and revisited the incidents (bullying, I guess) associated with it. It originally started off as a photographic project, but when I failed to adequately communicate the actual feeling associated with the place it evolved into a moving image/sound piece.

It's kinda scary how certain incidents stay so ingrained in your brain, the way you remember the exact words, the exact tonal inflections, where you were standing and where you were looking at the exact time something was said. I remember a supply teacher at primary school explaining memory like a tray of jelly, each memory is like hot oil dropping onto the jelly and leaving an impression. Over time the all the indentations begin to merge into little channels and the memories don't so much make indentations but run along the channels, like rivers, and eventually run off the tray - which is why our memory gets worse as we get older. But the earliest memories made the deepest indentations, so they will always be remembered...

Going back to these places, the filming, the whole process was a bit weird. Besides a few cosmetic differences (security gates where there were none before, that kinda thing) it felt like nothing had changed. I even saw one or two faces that I used to play out with before (incidentally, a few of the original perpetrators) and it just felt all a bit surreal...

Well I feel like I've bared my soul enough. Let me know what you think, folks. But I'm done with this project...I've tried something different, attacked one of the dark corners of my psyche, and even though the videos not perfect I feel like I've exorcised a demon. My work here is done.

Blonde Resistance

2011-04-11T18:18:00.000+01:00

Blonde for me is a form of resistance.

Admittedly, there was a time when I was about six or seven when I used to fly about the house with my pink ballet skirt atop of my head and as the powdery Lycra material flew out behind me I would invision in my colonised imagination that it was shoulder length blonde hair, silky to the touch as I always imagined it would be.

But I've come along way since then, and blonde is no longer a ticket to assimilation but rather a flag of provocative sedition. Blondes have more fun? If you're any shade of brown or black, then most certainly, my friend, most certainly.

When I wore my hair in platinum blonde braids last summer, people just stared. I became accustomed to the silent visual interrogation after a month or so, not that I enjoyed the googly eyed stares and awkward eye contact but it didn't bother me so much. My confused admiring audience wasn't your usual host of predatory street chirspers, or competitive black female contemporaries, but rather it was a whole host of white middle class (judging purely on appearance, accent and the like) people, the sort that tend to look through you unless you're serving them at Pret.

Some onlookers looked bewildered, some of them looked offended at my punkish flagrance of social regulatory categorisation. Because if you're black and wear your hair in eye-catching, traffic-stopping extravagance, you must be either a Yardie or teenage girl trapped in the ghetto who is descending the slippery staircase into single parenthood as I type. And quite clearly, I was neither.

At looking at some photos of a friend of mine, another friend commented that she was "brave" to wear her multi-tonal blonde weave with her skin tone. I know when I was growing up there was the unwritten rule about what particular shade you had to be to pull off a hair colour any lighter than 3 (that's chocolate brown for all you non-weave wearing public), but I say poo-poo to such unwritten rules. I also say poo-poo to the notion that any black/Asian girl with blonde hair is attempting to be white.

Don't insult our intelligence please. While yes, the mental scars of racial tension and white patriarchal hegemony runs deep on some ethnic psyches more so than others, most of us are just doing it because we can, and we like the way that it looks and we like the fact that we can.

I remember in school having blonde "million" braids delicately adorning my head on a trip back from Nigeria and upon arrival at school I was informed that they breached the school uniform policy on appropriate hairstyles and I would have to take them out. I remember squaring up to the teacher in an insolent manner and informing them that plenty of other girls in school bleached their hair impossible shades of blondes with an unhealthy percentage of dark roots framing their face - not to mention people with blonde highlights sitting awkwardly like fluorescent strip lighting in dark brown hair. And anyway did she even know for how many hours I sat on my bony backside to get this done. It was a cultural rite. (And it all becomes clear as to why my head of school despised my existence.)

While there will probably be similarly unbalanced regulation at various institutions on what is deemed an "appropriate professional appearance" and what is not, I still promote the idea that you should wear your hair however you want as long as you take care of it. Yes that's right get a 27 inch floor clearing weave if you so wish, as long as your hair underneath is healthy, happy and strong.

The natural black hair debate rages on with people getting quite militant on either sides, but me, I think it's all a bit much to tell people how they should wear their hair. I mean haven't we endured decades of afro hair being seen as untidy, unkempt and the rest, to then go and try and heap similar shame upon the heads of weave-wearing, hair-treating women is still a form of socio-emotional blackmail. As long as your mind is decolonised and free of racial insecurity, as long as you can wear your own hair with pride, however rarely you choose to do it, your crown is your oyster.

So wave your blonde locks far and wide, I shall be rejoining your ranks soon I hope. And let them stare all they want (though personally I would rather no photos); they wish they looked as exotic as you (as much as I despise the word, it's true!), they wish they had the joie de vivre that your mane suggests. But what they really wish is that they had the confidence to so flagrantly disregard the Western Beauty Myths than entrap them, even if they don't realise this yet.

P.S. The Tribe was flipping amazing wasn't it? If there is a DVD boxset I would buy that NOW! Answers on a postcard please (or comment box for all you young whippersnappers).

A Quiet One

2011-04-09T22:42:00.000+01:00

Where have I been?

Everywhere and Nowhere.

~~I only have a few weeks left of Uni.~~ In fact I'm not going to mention the U-word because it's scaring the life out of me right now. Not the after bit, that's exciting but the build up to the climax (I believe that's called the crescendo...) is scaring me half to death. Then upon realising that I have no time to be scared to death, it promptly resurrects me via similar tactics.

So where have I been?

Somewhere between sleeping horribly, overthinking everything and loosing my appetite. But I've been taking photo's and writing scribbles so my sanity is still half there. Kinda.

Tonight I had a quiet evening in with my computer, U-work and citron tart (Tesco citron tart is vile, long live Waitrose). Been going through sketchbooks, editing, making plans and notes, endlessly planning out my days ahead while biting my nails down to stubby bluntness. Also been watching Channel 4 OD, 10 O'Clock Live re-runs. Hilarious and it features my favourite TV person (Charlie Brooker) and also incredibly politically informative too. In this little bubble I've been living in I've become terribly uninformed of late and this works out as an entertaining catch up.

But anyways, back to sketchbook notes and shoot planning.

I will leave you with some stuff.

Made this a month or so ago in my hand-made-books-and-printmaking class that I did as a bit of extracurricular activity to support a project I was working on in Uni. Since then said project has developed beyond handmade books into something else quite exciting...but all will be revealed later...

This was just me getting reacquainted with block printing (loved doing it in GCSE Art). Spontaneous illustration, the words are a line in a poem that I have lost/can't be bothered to find buried deep in a past journal somewhere.

Something a bit different. Enjoy.

Walk On

2011-04-03T21:51:00.001+01:00

Went to the first ever Black Feminist event in London last Thursday, as well as some fantastic spoken word performances (including my own, that I kinda shegged =/) there was some discussion about a variety of subjects including street harassment (if you follow me on twitter you may have seen a few of my mini-rants on the said subject). After the event Sarah was inspired to write this post about the subject. That post in turn inspired me to finish this poem that I started on the subject a couple months back...

If I had a little sister I would tell her to walk on
To stalk on past these creeps
Her long legs carrying her bounds and leaps
Past my past mistakes to a place where
She is out of reach of their eyes
Out of reach of his gaze
Because if you walk too slow or get too comfortable
Admiring the green leaves that shimmer in the summer breeze
And decorate urban trees with garlands of dappled light
His gaze will hit the side of your face and travel down
Judging you on your size and shape
The robustness of your behind
The pavement isn't safe for you at night or even day
It feels akin to those days when they paraded -
Us
Akin to those days white men debated -
Us
And our price
Before they raped us that night

So if I had a little sister I would tell her to walk on
Stalk on with her long legs to a place beyond
The catcalls
Same way he offers you a place in his bed to lay gently
Same way he'll tear you down hissing obscene threats
Gently
Your insecurity bared for all to see on this concrete
No time to pick up your shards and retain composure
So walk on my sister
Walk on young one
For fear that his sticky palms might enclose around you
Claiming your body as public property
Dirty fingernails digging into your waist
Show no fear my young sister
Walk with purpose and haste
Because this city isn't safe
To walk night or day
Together or alone
So I beg you walk on
My heart beats steadily in my chest for you
Willing your steps and your stride
And your pride held high
Walk on my dearest
Lead on
For you
Your sister
Our own

★★ FLASH ★★

2011-03-29T12:19:00.000+01:00

This is a charitable endeavour that I am a part of. It's a really good deal, so take advantage then feel all warm inside because you're also giving to charity while getting a banging studio photoshoot experience.

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Flashbacks: The Photographs

2011-03-24T22:55:00.002Z

Agfa Optima 1 film camera + FuijiColor C200 film

There's another bit to this that you will find here...

Flashbacks: The Poem

2011-03-24T22:55:00.001Z

The moments you relive over and over again
The spaces your ghost lingers
Close your eyes and remember
The pain
The joy
The anguish
The laughter

These are the dreams of your subconscious
The version of you that won't let go
Your fingers curled around the event
Milking each emotion
Flipping each expression over
And over
Savouring the after taste
For the future awaits
Learn your lessons now
Cause tomorrow awaits
With baited breath
But for tonight rest
In the after taste of emotion spent
Stuck to the psychic walls that enclose you in
That stage where your drama played
Prologues and epilogues
Engraved in the clouds above your head

What brings you back here
The scene that remains unfinished
The script half written
The ending hanging on a set of ellipses
You can see the characters
The conversation you only half had
Remember the taste of the words on your breath
You can recognise the colour of the sky
The way the Sun shines
You walk the same earth
But you're not the same person
She's walking a few steps behind you
You can recognise the bridge and the bench
And the path and the lake
You walk the same earth
But you're not the same person
She's walking a few steps behind you
Her footsteps growing lighter

Something between poetry and prose.

This is literary response to the images in this post.

I Blog on a Sunday!

2011-03-20T10:42:00.000Z

I was asked by a nice guy called Jonathan Rose to feature as a guest blog for a segment on his blog called "I Blog on a Sunday". Mosey on over to his blog and check it out...HERE!!

Also follow him on Twitter! @98rosjon

A Day In Jendelland

2011-03-14T19:16:00.003Z

An Average Day in the Life of Me.

A purely self-indulgent exercise, inspired by Flow.

This is my photo-diary for last Monday (7th March).

Good Morning Good People...

The first face I see in the morning. Note: 07:07 on 7th. Purely coincidental =)

I wake up at 7am each morning. I usually lie in bed for about five minutes tryna psych myself up to get up. Then I jump straight in a scalding hot shower (my nerve endings are messed up). After showertime I get dressed, check emails/pings/tweets/facebook messages/etc. Hello world!

Breakfast #1

So yeah, when I first started taking Cod Liver Oil, I didn't realise it would actually taste like FISH (I thought it was one of those english things, like St John's Wart isn't really the wart of St John). I tried to back the dosage straight and stood over the sink for about five minutes just wretching. Now I mix it into smoothie, the only thing thick enough to (kinda) hide the taste.

Breakfast #2

I would be lost without this...

Before I leave out I have to read my to-do list and agenda and make sure I have everything I need and I'm mentally prepared. I've got so many projects on the go I need to turn up to uni with the right sketchbook or the rest of my day is just stress. Then it's time for the most peaceful part of my day...

THE COMMUTE!

Commute Entertainment

Just started reading On Photography by Susan Sontag - not bad so far, but the comparisons between the camera and the phallus, or photography and rape, are a bit disturbing...to say the least.

If I've been shooting film over the weekend I usually make a quick stop off at Jessops to drop of two rolls of film for developing for Project #1 and Project #2, before heading to...

University =)

Knight's Park campus foyer and exhibition space...they're in the process of putting up a new exhibition...

Check the notice board for tutorial, talks and other interesting stuff for the week ahead

Art College Randomness...

Time to get to work....

For Project #3 I set up shop infront of an iMac and get on the grind.

I spend a lot of time in front of computers and I need to protect my eyeballs a bit more. I can easily spend three to four hours straight infront of the computer getting lost in a project then before I know it my eyeballs are vibrating and I'm seeing pixels.

Project #4 requires me queue to take out a Moving Image camera, so just before lunch I go and queue at the Moving Image Department...

The wait is kinda long...

Lunch!

Time to get some fresh air, pick up my processed film and eat (along the way - terrible habit of mine).

Nice day!

Back to work!

My favourite place in uni is the photography digital editing suite...

First you have to slice up the neg roll...

Then you digitize 'em!

Scanning in the neg's at such a hi-res takes ages so while I do this I'm tweetin' or readin' or just listen' to music. Once that's done I need to do meet my friend and do some work on Project #4 because I'm doing a shoot for that later...

Back on the iMac *rubs eyeballs*

Is that the time?? Time to leave...

That's my co-d Ari!

The exhibition is coming together...

Pretty sky at the train station...

Me and Ari head to central London for research for Project #4 and finish at around 9.30ish...

Originally I was meant to do a shoot for Project #5 as well as the research and shoot for Project #4 with Ari, but Project #5 had to be rescheduled 'cause I was actually crazy tryna fit that in as well.

Hometime

Hard work deserves just rewards...

Bedtime...

Final year panic means that even though I get home around 10.30pm, I feel like I should get home and work some more (I've still got Project #5 that I haven't touched today...), but wisdom tells me to just have a cup of herbal and go to bed...

Self-Portraits

2011-03-12T19:05:00.000Z

All the projects that I'm working on now are quite heavy. They're all concept-driven and "deep". It's weighing down my mind a bit. So today I decided to shoot some straight forward self-portraits. Nothing fancy or deep, just me ('cause even my self-portraits are usually concept-heavy, as you can see here and here).

There is no rhyme or reason to the edit, the composition anything. They look like that because I want them to. *exhale* How good does it feel to not have to explain and justify an image? Very.

My First Fortune Cookie

2011-03-12T16:19:00.000Z

My first fortune cookie.

"You seek to shield those you love and like the role of provider."

According to her, it's true.

Taken on my Olympus OM-10, Fuji C200 film.

Heart Disease

2011-03-10T21:10:00.002Z

This city will give me heart disease
Between choking on the aroma of the Big Smoke
And choking on the panic that rises in my throat
This city feels like it will kill me
Crush me
Underneath the weight of expectation
Rubbing the lamp 'til my knuckles are red raw
Give me three wishes
Rather than a sink full of dirty dishes soaking in hard water
This is a hard pill to swallow with a glass of hard water
So I just sit in the carriage
Suffocating with claustrophobia
My heart beats in my chest trying to smash through my ribs
It's screaming for open pastures and still waters
But for now I feel like I'm dining with my enemies
Awkward silence
Heavy lidded irises
Heavy laden limbs
And a furrowed brow
Deliver me from my enemies
I drag my trolley case of burdens behind me
Pulling the weight through streets steeped with heartbreak and isolation
This is my island
Seven thousand emotional miles from blood kind or kindred
You are in a city filled with bodies
Writhing and dying
But every moment is spent alone
March to the sound of sighing
The sound of silence
Same faces, same quiet
Blank stares and strange choirs
Sing the same refrain over and over
There are no four leaved clovers growing between the cracks in the pavement
Not even weeds grit their teeth and grace us
And when the sun shines
More times you'll be caught in a stone building's shadow
Fitful and power...less

I can't wait for the wait to be over
The next chapter of my life to start
To remind me why I'm here
And why I came
To this city of giants and heart disease

Written today at 3.28pm.
Was a very therapeutic experience.

Women That Changed My Life

2011-03-08T22:05:00.000Z

Today is International Women's Day.

This year has been the first year that I've been properly aware of the significance of this day. Past years I've heard about it, but thought it sounded all a bit wet, but this year as in the months leading up to IWD I've become more critically aware of issues surrounding womanhood and femininity both in the UK and US and across the rest of the world, particularly in Africa. The statistics on female illiteracy, female poverty, female genital mutilation, violence against women, enforced marriage and impregnation as well as corrective rape and other things is staggering. I've noticed a lot of people on my twitter feed making light of this day, and I resisted all urges to get on my twitter soapbox, but IWD is a big deal - I see that now. It's not just about moany women grumbling because someone wolf whistled after them or because all their bosses are male. A disgusting amount of women die in this country each year because of violent relationships, not to mention other places in the world when being a woman by definition a death wish of sorts...

Anyways. I wasn't intending to post about statistics and all that stuff. I just wanted to celebrate some famous and successful women who have changed my life.

WRITERS

Jane Austen

I was one of those nerdy pale kids who read whilst doing absolutely everything, I soon outgrew all my age-appropriate books and Mom got me into Jane Austen's work. I loved it. I loved the way they talked, Austen's sense of humour, while everyone else was watching Eastenders and Brookside, I was watching Pride and Prejudice for the 15th time. She made me want to write.

Jacqueline Wilson

I have not found one girl growing up in Britain who did not think Jacqueline Wilson was an author or rockstar proportions. I read every single book I could get my hands on, and I would literally read them in a matter of days. I actually met her in real life as I went to Uni one day (she lives in Kingston and our university has named a hall after her) and I was awe-struck. I wanted to take a picture with her but I was completely reduced to the shy 11 year old that I was when I was reading her books. She is amazing. If she didn't get her DBE in 2008 I would have rioted and written to the Queen personally.

Chimamanda Adichie

I have to be careful or this will turn into some oozing fangirl love letter. So I will try to keep it short. I love Adichie's work. She's like the Jacqueline Wilson of my adult years. The very first thing I ever wanted to be was a writer. That got modified into a photographer along the way (it was actually a very logical stet, process wise...but that's for another time) but reading Adichie's work awoke the urge in me to write, write and write some more. I really am restraining myself. Seriously, I could gush til I had no more gush left. But she's amazing. Watch this video:

bell hooks
You know what I love about bell? She does not mince her words. Ever. Exactly what you read is exactly what she meant. Her writing spurred me to awaken that political consciousness that I thought was useless being a young black female interested in creative type endeavours. She is a prolific writer (her bibliography is nuts and I've only read a couple books) and writes in a easy to grasp but still intellectually satisfying manner. And as I said before she does not mince her words and she's the polar opposite of the snobby academic writer so aloof from life and buried in self-importance. I am continually inspired, challenged and encouraged.

Musical Type Folk

Nina Simone

Gotta thank my auntie for introducing me to Nina's music. Her voice is beautiful, her compositions are beautiful and what really got me was her song-writing. I love it when people wear their heart on their sleeves, transparency is a beautiful quality, and her lyrics are so heart-felt and honest, but still beautifully written. She is a lyrical story-teller, drawing you in, from songs with social/political undertones, to the songs about her own personal life and loves. Wonderful, wonderful, stuff. *fan-girl moment*

Lauryn Hill

She can sing and she can rap and she can do both darned well. I love the depth of her content as well. I love that she can play guitar and also another person who appears to be so upfront, honest and uncompromising. Love her.

M.I.A.

M.I.A. is heavy. When I first listened to her music I thought it was just joyous and wonderful nonsense. But then I started getting into it and her work is like a political manifesto. I love that. Her music makes more sense than some of this other trash out there, and it reminded me that your creative output and your convictions can not be separated (as did Nina, Lauryn and bell). She is supertalented, superoriginal and I'm also inspired by the fact that before music she was also a visual artist/designer. A lot of her artwork and stuff is her own, she runs her own record label, has achieved success but never departed from her political convictions in her creative work. I respect and salute that.

Historical Figures

Deborah

Esther

Boudicca

Cleopatra

By no means are any of these women perfect representations of what a woman should be (NEW FLASH FOLKS, it doesn't exist), they all had their own failings and weaknesses and bones that you could pick out (don't we all). But these woman do have a strength that I admire. They took onboard (some out of choice, others out of obligation perhaps) responsibility that made them pivotal figures in history. They changed the game folks. They inspire me because I believe that I too am here, in this moment "for such a time as this" (Old Testament, Book of Esther 4:14) and looking at these women and their legacies I am challenged and encouraged to take whatever mantle of responsibility I may have to change the game and be that person.

Now at this point I asked myself, "OK, so you're a photographer, what female photographer has changed your life?" And the answer is none. Not because there aren't female photographers who I admire and respect - far from it! But none of them have actually done anything that I can say has changed my life, my perspective, my way of thinking and what I now do - apart from just encouraging me to be a better photographer... What does that mean? That means that I need to be that photographer who changes someone else's life, perspective, way of thinking... I don't ask much of myself do I?

So there we have it folks. A longer post than normal, but here is my list. Now what are yours??

Progression...

2011-03-01T23:14:00.000Z

Looking through some old sketchbooks I found this self-portrait drawing/collage I did back in spring/summer 2008...

I completely forgot about it, but it struck me how similar the theme was to my Ink Flow's self-portrait I posted back in December. I love the way that when you sit on an idea it germinates into something better and bigger than before - even without realising it!

That's (one of the reasons) why I like to keep my mouth closed about ideas I have until they are finito'd in their entirety. There are many more reasons...but that's for another post...

A Note From My Grandmother

2011-03-01T22:57:00.000Z

"Let's tell the truth to the people. When people ask, 'How are you', have the nerve sometimes to answer truthfully. You must know however, that people will start avoiding you because they too have knees that pain them and heads which hurt and they don't want to know about yours. But think of it this way, if people avoid you, you will have more time to meditate and do fine research on the cause for whatever truly afflicts you."

Currently reading Maya Angelou's Letter To My Daughter. This was a 21st birthday present from a dear friend that I'm only just getting round to reading now. I admit (somewhat sheepishly) that this is the first piece of Dr Maya's work that I've read first hand, previously having only read quotes and excerpts from her memoirs. This book is beautifully readable and packed full of wisdom, grace, careful observation and heart warming frankness. Highly recommended.

The above quote is from a chapter called 'To Tell The Truth'. Dr Maya opens the chapter by discussing "social lies", like how when people ask how you are, they don't really want to know, they're just being polite or trying to make conversation. She then talks about how this epidemic of social lies carries right through to telling people that they look good when they don't and other "polite" habits we pick up in the name of etiquette. Food for thought.

Just Some Places

2011-02-24T19:00:00.000Z

Then:

Now:

The hangouts. Nothing fancy. We're still starvin' artists out here. I love being young, I really do.

Taken on my Olympus OM 10, Fujicolor C200 film. Still getting the hang of this...

DPMO: Eve Syndrome - The Delilah Files

2011-02-18T12:10:00.004Z

"Everyone blames Jezebel and Delilah like King Ahab and Samson weren't idiots in the first place."

This subject has been on my mind for a while. I haven't ranted for a while, but here's a mini rant for ya'll (had to keep it short or Lord knows how long we'd be here for). When discussing it with a friend, she called such occurances Eve Syndrome. "It was the woman you gave me!" (Adam to God - Genesis 3:12)

If you didn't know Eve's part in The Fall of Man has been the justification for the subjugation of women for centuries in Western "Christianity" (I say "Christianity" because a whole of heap of it hasn't been very Christ-like now has it?). I'm not about to get into a long critique of gender issues within The Church - that is thesis material - I just want to pick up on this one contemporary issue.

I've noticed that in conversation and contemporary Christian culture, this issue of the female femme fatale comes up a lot amongst certain types of Christians. Whatever you want to call her; 'Jezebel', 'Delilah', a 'Killa', she is here and she is apparently set out to see downfall of Christian males and Chritian males exclusively. Almost like in cartoons, when Tom/Wiley Coyote/the sharp nosed dog that was Droopy's arch nemesis whose name completely evades me was distracted from their endeavours by a sexy female counterpart (usually a costume made up of various disparate objects) and they would instantly fall head over heels into uncontrollable lust and their plans would be derailed. Well the way that certain males talk it is as if this practice actually happens in real life, that attractive women are sent in as undercover operatives to destroy them.

At this point let me assert that temptation is real, and that there may be a few conniving women out there (as there are men) but we are not living in a Looney Toon.

Q: What is my issue with this?
A: That it is blarsted unfair and unjust to heap so much of the blame onto females.

Let me just point out two things:

Firstly, the biggest percentage of sexual predators in church (as in life) are male. Whether it be children, women or men, more often than not men are the primary force in such inappropriate relationships. Yes, granted there are the occasions when women intoxicated by a man with authority throw themselves at a pastor or leader of some sort, but ultimately men take it upon themselves to pursue. And my-oh-my aren't males pretty adept at pursuing. I speak from the evidence of public incidents internationally, nationally, on smaller regional levels as well as situations encountered by myself personally and people I know. I do not know of one female gospel artist asking young Christian males for sex? Unfortunately I know of too many male gospel artists sending sexually charged messages, down to flat out asking young Christian females if they would have sex with them.

"Fools walks this path I'm on, never to be seen again..." - Lecrae 'Killa'

Secondly, the term 'Jezebel' and 'Delilah' is thrown around a lot but let us examine these stories. Both these women were morally deviant, but they were heathens, what do you expect? The biggest issue does not lie with these women, but with the supposed men of God who allowed these women in the first place. I mean flipping heck, Samson was supposed to be a Nazirite and he was wifeying heathen women? Who do you blame the woman ("oh, but she beguiled him with her womanly charm" - errr, yeah...) or Samson who was supposed to know better? I mean, he made an oath to God! And then after Delilah nearly got him set up twice, he still manages to be duped and tells her the secret of his strength. Erm, OK then Mr Samson...

All jokes and sarcasm aside, I do not seriously belittle Samson because I believe we are guilty of similar degrees of foolishness in our own lives, countless times, but really, at the end of the day as he stood blind and in chains in the Philistine temple, was his end not his own undoing? With that attitude he was gonna end up there eventually, it just so happens that sex was the swiftest way perhaps...

I hear males talk about seeing attractive females out and about, as if the attractive female was batting eyelashes, lifting up her skirt, or even breathing lustily down his ear. They talk about attractive females as if they were predators trying to snare them as if they were tools of Beelzebub himself and their sole purpose on this earth is draw young Christian men away. DPMO. Firstly, are you even that attractive that all these hotties would be fawning themselves all over you on public transport? (OK, that might have been a cheap shot...I'm ranting guys...) And secondly, I know heaps of beautiful Christian girls who go out and are moved to time and time again by guys, non-Christian and Christian, but I never hear them talking about these guys as if they are undercover operatives going out to seek and destroy. No, they're just guys who get a swift rebuttal, dirt off the shoulder, keep it moving. Lads, you might wanna take note of such tactics...

Too many times I have seen males willingly enter into relationships however inappropriate with females when they should have known better, but that great bastion of the male ego PRIDE, somehow convinces them that they're doing right or blocks out the naysayers. But when its all said and done and disaster strikes they come back tail between the legs complaining that it was the big bad Jezebel that got them.

Seriously guys, its not a good look and it not encouraging for us ladies. If only we can all openly and transparently shoulder the blame in our wrong doings and failings, maybe everyone's burdens would be lessened and the body of Christ would be a healthier and happier place to be.

I love my Christian brothers (as cheesy as that sounds) and I am encouraged that I can have open conversations about such topics with a fair few of them, but to all of them I say this:

You watch your lanes and we'll watch ours. You make sure that you don't flirt and play games and make inappropriate, thinly veiled, sexual innuendos and we'll make sure we don't wear leggings that show off our jiggling backsides as we walk etc. You agree not blame us for your own failings as a male and we'll agree not to moan about how there are no good men in church. Deal?

Some guys need to renew their minds, if every time you see an attractive girl you think of sin, then it might be you, my friend, who has the problem (read Matthew 5:28-30).

I admit, that I have briefly skimmed over a deep and emotional issue, but I just needed to get this off my chest.

PS. Lecrae's 'Killa' song is actually a metaphor, he's not talking about a real woman, to then take this phrase 'Killa' and apply it to real young women out there is offensive at best, ignorant at worst...

PPS. There are godly women too you know, focus on all the 'Killa's and guess what happens, you notice more girls for you to watch shaking their bums in short skirts and seethrough leggings before screaming Killa once they've rounded the corner and there's no more bumbum to watch...

Je suis fini.

**EDIT**

My brother read this post and also added this verse to the mix:

Proverbs 5:21-22 "For the ways of man are before the eyes of the Lord, And he ponders all his paths. His OWN iniquities entrap the wicked man, and he is caught in the cords of HIS sin."

Thanks bro-ski!

Welcome to the Sisterhood

2011-02-13T15:09:00.001Z

A week ago I went to my very first black feminist meeting. I was recruited through Twitter (Twitter is great) and after checking out that I wasn't being duped by spam (Twitter Spam is not so great) I was sold on the idea. Exciting times.

I didn't know what to expect so I began by blogstalking some of the group's members and I was slightly (read very) intimidated. These women seemed so eloquent, so bang on the feminist cause and to be honest I wouldn't strictly call myself a feminist (yet?), so I started to wonder if I was throwing my curious self to a pack of sophisticated and politically savvy bunch of she-wolves. So I did what I always do - enrolled Flow to accompany me for moral support! When Flow and I were discussing what to expect we ran the gamut of feminist stereotypes and decided that they probably wouldn't be bra-burning ball-breakers but then again they may be natural hair nuts and me and Flow might skulk out of the meeting our chemically treated heads hanging low.

We turned up to the meeting late (that was my fault - not a great start) and as we stalked around the plush surroundings of the 5th floor bar and restaurant, I could feel that we were both a bit nervous being that we were still not quite sure what we were walking into. We were directed by a young waiter to a far corner of the bar and as we rounded the corner we were met by...

*dun-dun-duhhhhhhh*

...a group of smiling and welcoming women of different ages and ethnicities.

Cue exhale of relief. I won't go into a minute by minute breakdown of the meeting (that would be a violation) but I will say this, the meeting was great!

The media has perpetuated certain ideas about feminism that may very well be rooted in a truth to a certain extent, but black feminism, I'm discovering, is quite different. What I found in the meeting was what drew me to the writing of bell hooks, a frank, open discussion about issues that affect me coming from a down-to-earth point of view that I can relate to as a "woman of colour" and as a non-academic.

So what was the meeting like? It is probably easier to say what it was not like...

Well, we did not sit there bashing 'The White Man' or black/asian/latino men either (yawn!); we discussed issues of race and gender in politics, popular culture and a bit more besides.

It was not a extremist brainwashing session. It was entertaining, friendly, open and the beauty of it all was it was very clear from the beginning that WE DIDN'T ALL HAVE TO AGREE ON EVERYTHING, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, THAT'S ALRIGHT!

It was not some elite group of haughty academics; every woman there was down to earth and very much in the real world.

It was not a meeting of butch, dungaree wearing, short-haired lesbians. I, in fact, was the only person there wearing Doc Martens.

And by no means was it a group therapy session; we found out a bit about each others lives from the discussion, and the reasons how and why various members came to black feminism. These reasons were as varied from being involved in mainstream feminism for decades and being frustrated with the disregard to the experiences of women from ethnic minorities, to falling into it by accident, like me! But it wasn't like some mopey, "woe-is-me-for-i-am-a-woman-of-colour" type business. No enforced social bonding of that sort (great news if you're socially awkward like me).

In short it was a breath of fresh air. It reminded me why the companionship of like minds is so important. It was like the Knowing Nod! "What is this Knowing Nod?" you may ask. Have you ever been in a position where you are in a minority, then you see someone else who is in the same position as you and you make eye contact in passing and there's that nod, a smile, a familiar but unspoken recognition. Unfortunately these days the knowing nod is disappearing and seems to be replaced by detached rivalry...but that's for another post.

Well yeah, it felt like the Knowing Nod.

We had a common understanding, shared ground, we didn't need to validate ourselves but could share ideas, thoughts, opinions without being torn to shreds cynically, even if someone else didn't agree. Healthy discussion, my friends, I haven't had that in a group environment for a while.

I'm definitely looking forward to the next meeting! A lot of people (interestingly males mainly) seemed quite interested in what the whole thing was about, and hopefully at the end of March we should have something for you guys! ;)

So 'til then...FIGHT THE POWER!!! *throws fist up*

(Sorry, couldn't resist *sheepish smile*)

Boxes

2011-02-08T22:46:00.000Z

I was almost too tired to post this, but I thought I couldn't let Sarah down... (GO TEAM!)
Sarah wrote a brilliant poem called 'Boxes', and I was so inspired that as soon as I read the first unfinished draft I started writing my own response/sequel/version/reeemmiixxx *DJ scratching sound*. I finally finished it today after a long delay (uni-blah-blah-blahhh). Enjoy.

I fell out of a box once.
I tumbled into a forward roll
And hit my head on the corner of a stone
Called anomaly
In my disorientated state, I stumbled around dazed
Looking for any box that I could fit
Searching for four walls big enough to contain me
For any unwritten rule or code of conduct to assure and restrain me
Confirm that I was toeing the line
Walking on the right side
Accepted and externally validated and defined

A box.
That's what it came in
Thin pages edged in gold smoothly bound in black leather
Two satin ribbons sandwiched between the ivory paper
Encased in a modest box made of reinforced card
Smart

But hardly concise

Let's start with:
The Beginning.

In The Beginning Was The Word
And He Was Shining
Brighter Than All External Voices
His Word Was Lightening
Double Edged Lightening
Piercing And Dividing
I was pulled asunder
Torn from top to bottom like the temple curtain
I'm certain

At the centre of me was a black hole
Yearning
A circle that could be squared
By a tick-the-box-delete-as-applicable-sign-and-date-here application form
Into the appropriately labelled circle that is considered the norm
For whatever current form I'm in
I'm sure it's a sin to be that insecure

But it was a win-win situation really
Lose whatever made me hate me
And gain whatever would make me
A better person
That I couldn't make for myself without His help
A better sense of self-realisation
As I realised myself

Was a deformed representation
Of perfection
So defecting myself from a panel of judges and quizzical scrutiny
I present to the public, more of Him and less of me
An indestructible tri-unity
I'm on my way to transcending mortality
Shrugging of cloaks of banality and mediocrity
Each day closer to death, infinity and eternity

A box.
When they bury me it will be in a box
Measured to perfectly surround my stiff corpse
Inner lining plush velvet to safely propel my
Weightless spirit on a one way ticket to the after life
And I will lie there
Or it will lie there
My empty vessel, well worn and cast aside
A cold remainder of a life once lived
No regrets I will give as my legacy
From my last quiver of my lips
That was my life
This is my life
It is what is
Tick the box

Yes, she's finally dead

Unto Him I give
My spirit
First stage complete, now I truly begin to live

Forever
Beyond the four walls I was born in

Together

With Him

I'm the empty box that's now been filled in.

In Transit

2011-02-02T00:07:00.000Z

Click on image to see the real deal...

Today was talking on Twitter with Sarah and Debra about writing poetry on trains and such... It was all inspired by this wonderful poem that Debra wrote.

Since I was ten years old I've spent a decent amount of time traveling for educational means and I've become so used to "commuting" that I even look forward to it at times. It's therapeutic; a time to gather my thoughts, catch up on reading, and where I do the most of my writing (whether that's poetry or prose). Due to the unstable nature of public transport, my writing tool of choice is the trusty memo application on my Blackberry; whether it's notes from a book I'm reading, poetry, musings, lists or even prep notes and ideas for photography and shoots - it all goes in there and is emailed to myself.

How terribly handy, you say? Yes, quite. Although now, it seems that I've made such a habit of these conditions, that I can't seem to write any other way. =(

The last few months I've been reading a looot. First for my dissertation, then my homie Andre ZoOm gave me a book on conspiracy theories (a side fascination of mine) which I ZoOm'd through (buh-dum-tsh!! *canned laughter*) and now I'm reading Roland Barthes' Camera Lucida. So I've been using my commute to read instead of write, and I'm finding it hard to write when I'm not sitting on threadbare public transportation furnishing being jostled by strangers or hitting my head off the bar in front of me as the bus driver inexplicably slams on the brakes. =/

But reading is good. I've missed reading. So let me not complain and just discipline myself to write in other positions.

Anyway enjoy the images taken on one of my many (strangely enjoyable) journeys around London. All the double exposures were made in-camera (bought an Olympus OM 10 film camera from a real nice guy at Spitalfields market a couple weeks ago). Photoshop was only used to assemble the panoramic collage above. =)

Happy traveling folks! Take time to notice the little details while you do, it's hugely satisfying. And smile at a stony faced commuter or two.

The Grass is Always Greener

2011-01-30T00:13:00.000Z

More images from my Agfa...

Irreconcilable Differences

2011-01-26T20:08:00.000Z

When was the first time you became acutely aware of your appearance?
Maybe it's weird, but I remember that moment. I was not looking in the mirror however, I was looking at my hands. My four year old chubby hands, clutching Crayolas.

I was in school at my desk, I do not remember what the task was, but I was drawing a bus - you know those two dimensional buses you draw from side on, two wheels on the side and row of square windows, and in each window was a little pink face, one after the other. I looked at each face, and I remember thinking "these people don't look like me!" I looked at my hands just to confirm, and sure enough my hands were a good few shades darker than the pink Crayola I was grasping.

I remember feeling confused as to why the people on my bus were pink, but I was brown. I remember wondering why I coloured them pink when I was brown. However, I didn't come to a conclusion - I'm sure I was distracted by something else and that brief crisis passed, but that was the first time I was acutely aware of the colour of my skin, and since then I don't think that consciousness has dissipated in the slightest.

I remember at Christmas time my aunties used to voice their disapproval of my row of blue-eyed, blonde-haired Barbie dolls. I remember my hands turning over the pages of Argos catalogues, looking for a brown baby toy or a brown Barbie to call my own. I remember the first little brown baby I was given and I remember the first black Barbie doll I was given. I loved and cherished these dolls above all my other rosy cheeked pinked ones, because they were brown like me, in a sea of pink plastic. They were special.

My mother tried, dear God, she tried. But I was obsessed with this ponytail malarky...

In primary school I was the only black girl in my class. Kids would ask to touch my hair and gently stroke my puff of tight curls in fascination. I enjoyed the attention at first, then I grew tired of it, I became wary of their awe and patronised by their wonder. I told one of my friends that I wasn't really black, that my mother had left me in the sun for too long. She believed me for a second or two, before I could no longer contain my amusement and burst into hysterical laughter. How could she really believe that? As if! There was another black girl in my year in a different class and we told everyone that we were related for awhile, relieved at finding some solidarity for a few days. I can't remember who told the truth, or whether the white kids pieced it together, but the security in that story was short-lived.

While playing outside in my white working class neighbourhood, I was reminded of my difference every now and again. The older boys called me 'brown bread' or my brother a Paki, and I lived in a state of semi-intimidation when I became old enough to notice the racial slurs, even if I didn't know how to react to it. One boy once repeated the Ali G catchphrase "Iz it coz I iz black?!" and my older white girl friend told him he shouldn't say that because I was there and it was offensive. He asked me if I was offended, I didn't know how to answer, but she answered for me and the matter was settled. I remembered wondering after that is something only racist if there was a "coloured" person present? Is it alright to talk like that until a "coloured" person materialized and voiced their discontent? If that was the case then maybe there was no such thing as racism at all, if it did not matter as long as the party being badmouthed was not there to hear it…

Race became something I lived with everyday of my life, not as a burden, just as something that I was aware of and could never not be. If I happened to forget one day, rest assured someone would remind me, stroking my hair or calling me a name, never letting me forget that me, I was Different. Why was your hair like that, they asked. I don't know. It just is. Did I eat the same food as everyone else, they asked. Erm, most of the time, but maybe that was only after complaining to my mom that I didn't want to eat groundrice every day because other people had fish fingers and pizza and stuff. Why did my mom talk in that funny accent? Because she was Nigerian, Nigeria is in Africa. So why didn't I speak African? Because there was no such thing as African… Did I speak Paki? No, I'm not a Paki. Oh, so you're not a Paki, that means you're a blackie, ha, ha, ha… And so on and so forth…

And if it wasn't the kids that I played with, it would be the TV screen, showing little blonde girls in red T-shirts and blue jeans, the girl I would never be but was always told to look at, to want what she had, be who she was. Sometimes I would close my eyes and imagine, make believe that I had blonde hair too. I would wear my ballet skirt on my head, and pretended that the smooth satin-y fabric was really long, straight hair, that could be tied into a pony tail. Ponytails were the dreamt of ideal because when I had thick doo-doo plaits one kid at after-school club told me it looked like I had curly poo on my forehead, and how comes my plaits stayed in without a bobble on the end? I used to hate the fact that my mom would tie my hair up into an afropuff at the very top of my head like the antenna on the Teletubbies. Well, I hated it until I saw the cheese strings advert with a black girl who had her hair done exactly like that, with a little plait at the front of her head as well. After seeing that I felt validated, and begged my mom to do my hair like. She was confused at my change of heart until I showed her the advert. She saw, she understood. Who knew that a few years later when I was in secondary school (once again the only black girl in my class) I would wear my afropuff with pride and gel my hair to enhance my tight curls…

Leave my dress sense alone...I beg...

Race matters. Difference matters. The fact that we are different matters and always will do. Not because one difference is better, or should be made to be more acceptable than the other, but because to ignore difference is to deny reality. It is deny the reality of the benefit of diversity. To deny that difference is important is another form of ignorance. Not everyone grew up like you, not everyone experienced the same things as you. One of the most frustrating things about Britain is that race and class seem to be the big white (how ironic) elephants in the room now. People do not even seem to know how to talk about difference anymore. Growing up in the communities I did, I suppose, has influenced my creative work now. I've had conversations with white people about my photographic work and themes about race and class, and they stumble over words such as 'black', as if there is any other alternative way to talk about "it". Then I've had conversations with other people who find it almost offensive that the majority of my subjects look like me, "why do you only photograph black people?" "no one will ever take you seriously you know"… People almost want to deny that people have different experiences to them which would prove that they are not in fact the centre of the universe. To talk about someone else's struggles seems to challenge their own self-importance. When I was writing my dissertation, every other conversation I had about it someone would inform me that "it's not just black women, you know". Yes. I know. But excuse my while I remove my adoring gaze from the concerns of the white middle class society to examine some issues that strike a little closer to home. But please believe that THAT is another issue all together!

We are not a classless society and we most certainly are not a society where difference doesn't exist. It has and it always will. To gloss over that is almost as insulting as someone calling me 'brown bread'.

I'm done. For now.

All of the Lights

2011-01-25T19:46:00.000Z

"Turn up the lights in here, baby,

Extra bright, I want ya'll to see this,

Turn up the lights in here, baby,

Know what I mean, want you to see everything,

All of the lights..."

'All of the Lights' - Kanye West

It's aliiiiveee, it's aliiiiiiveee I tell you!

These images were shot on my Agfa Optima 1 camera, which I thought for the longest didn't work anymore, but it does. I love the images because they've got that authentic abstract quality that no amount of Photoshop can forge. Parfait.

A Reintroduction

2011-01-21T20:37:00.004Z

Once upon a time I used to write a lot. More than I do now.

I used to write about wide ranging matters. Matters of faith, matters of race, sex and class, matters of popular culture, and so on and so forth. Then I stopped. I figured that no one really wanted to read it, and I feared that I may sound preachy. Then this blog turned into simply a showcase for my work with maybe a rant or witty remark here and there.

But writing my dissertation changed my life. Literally. It stirred up long forgotten musings and made me analyze my creative output and myself from a different level. I started to write bits and pieces here and there that I wanted to share with the world, but where oh, where to put it? Surely it doesn't belong here?! I don't want to confuse whatever readers I have, by throwing in feminist musings on race alongside pretty pictures and idle banter.

But then I realised. By golly, this is JENDELLAND. The land of Jendella, ie. everything and anything pertaining to whatever goes through my pretty little head. It's only fair that my ~~adoring public~~ readers see a rounded and uncensored cross section of my brain. I mean, if you can't express yourself online, then where the heck can ya, eh?

So allow me to reintroduce myself:

I am not a feminist, far from it. I'm not even entirely sure what feminism is now between popular legend of bra burning, unshaven legs and proclamations that porn stars are the new feminists. Does that word even mean anything anymore?

I am not a head wrap wearing, dreadlocked sistah. I don't own any kind of ornament in the shape of Africa. I do not eat organic food because I cannot afford it and I'm not about to burn down a weave factory any time soon.

I am, however, in my early twenties, a Black British woman who is critically aware and at times very opinionated. I would hope that I am eloquent and intelligent. I am a photographer, (soon-to-be-with-more-experience) film maker, poet, writer, thinker and fan of all things beautiful.

I am now going to make more of an attempt to chart my journey to "critical consciousness" or as Michelle Cliff once wrote, "a quest, a journey to complete, to realize the self...the attempt to break out of expectations imposed on black and female identity. All work against the odds to claim the I."

To be honest, it will definitely help me as an creative practitioner (or "artist") and maybe it will help you understand my work that little bit more...perhaps...

Glad to have you on board. Emergency exits are on your left and your right.

Favour

2011-01-20T20:49:00.000Z

You may remember me mentioning me filming in the snow late last year...

I got all my footage down but then got well and truly stuck into my dissertation but here is one of my experiments. Finished editing it earlier this week, and I'm really chuffed with it. *snorts and pushes up glasses*

I think it's a natural progression for me to move into film/moving image. I watch so many films and documentaries, and they inspire and inform a lot of my photography work anyway, so I'm quite excited to crack open Final Cut again. I learned so much putting this together, and I've never felt this excited about learning since I learned about transcripts in English Language at college (don't ask). I don't wanna say too much, but here's to more and more of the filmic good stuff. Cheers!

Favour from Jeni Jendella on Vimeo.

This is the second time I've worked creatively with Favour (I briefly featured one of the images from his shoot here). Maybe it's really obvious to say but I love working with my talented friends, inspires me that little bit more. I feel overly blessed to be surrounded by 'em.

Hype Ting

2011-01-17T13:19:00.000Z

This is my 100th blog post.

It is also my first post of the year 2011.

And also my first post of the new decade. (I think it's a new decade...?)

I wanted it to be epic...some amazing work that I'm really proud of or suttin such, but alas my dissertation has sucked time from pursuing creative endeavours, so I have nothing finished to show you...but soon come...

On a brighter note I finished my dissertation, handed it in 4 days early and am quite proud of it.

And on another bright note, I do indeed have something epic to blog about...

My good friend (and fellow creative crazy) Andre ZoOm Anderson ("Mister An-derr-son..." - Mr Smith from The Matrix) released his debut novella "Ultra" late last year and I managed to finally get my hands on a copy!

The novella is the autobiography of the life of a superhero and you will come across some familiar faces alongside funny anecdotes of a behind-the-mask take on superhero life. The book was part of "The Hypeness" project and was written with a deadline of TWELVE days, although really it was written in eight.

As I came to write this post I was very aware that I didn't want to come across as biased, being that Mr ZoOm is my homie, but honestly speaking gentlemen and gentlewomen, all I can say is that the book is "HARD!" Its a great storyline with a bit of philosophy thrown in to get your brain ticking and definitely one for the comic book fans (although it isn't a comic in itself).

It's a quality read, both physically and intellectually, and I have to salute Andre as he designed and published it himself. I know the first batch sold out in just over a month, but definitely get your order in for the second.

I am wholeheartedly inspired.

I don't want to give too much away, but let me leave you with one of my favourite quotes from the first chapter which is called "Where are My Trumpets?":

"We are the best of our kind, ladies and gentlemen. There was probably a prettier version of us. There could have been a smarter version too... but they lost. I was destined to be here, no miscalculation involved. So don't mind me if I boast in my importance - it's not my fault I'm a winner."

Here, here!

Holla at zoom@zoom4you.co.uk to find out how to get your grubby little paws on a copy.

Website: www.zoom4you.co.uk
Email: zoom@zoom4you.co.uk
Twitter: @ZOOM4YOU
Facebook: ZOOM4YOU

And 2010 just got better!!

2010-12-31T17:49:00.002Z

Akemi Creative's first interview!! (click)

Yay us!

A massive thanks to Linda from TNBT mag, she's a darling, really!

Look What I Found...

2010-12-31T11:00:00.001Z

Been back with 'rents during this Christmas and New Year period and my old room is like a relic to 17-year-old Jeni. Found some photos of my Art and Fine Art Textiles work on an old phone so I thought I'd get it out and take a looksee.

Was pleasantly surprised to find that a lot of my college work had political undertones; the first images are from a project I did on censorship for my Fine Art AS Level, and the bottom two were from a project I did on the societal class divisions for Fine Art Textiles. The barbed wire in the Textile work was made from scratch my yours truly (had blisters on my finger tips for weeks!) and you might wanna enlarge the bottom picture to appreciate the details - it was a double page spread from a hand-made book made from fabric, hand-made paper and the like.

Of course I did have my self-indulgent moments...

That is my friend modelling my Air Max 95 trainers, customised with self-portraits of me. One of my proudest works to date! =D

I customised the box as well filling it with black velvet and tying a black ribbon around it. It was the ultimate ode to my obsession with trainers.

I do miss Art and Textiles sometimes, playing with oil paints and freehand sewing and making masterpieces out of randomness, exciting times...

Well there's plenty more to be excited about happening here and now, so here's to a wonderful New Year filled with more, great and greater creative escapades!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

I await what it holds with eagerness...

Peep My Demo Yo!

2010-12-27T18:27:00.002Z

Christmas come...late.

I've been "working" on this for a while. It came after a brief online exchange between me and a friend (the formidable MC that is Mr Sammy G) and in that split second, I was inspired to do something that was within my power to do. Record a home-made project of some of my spoken word pieces that I've been sitting for nearly two years.

My initial goal was to have this done by October, but due to university workload and procrastination fuelled by furious attacks of self-doubt (which haven't necessarily subsided) I finished it months late. I guess this is also for myself, me biting the bullet and doing something, instead of just thinking about it.

These pieces are a selection of some of the stuff I've written over the last two years that can collated into a coherently themed collection. They were inspired by collective experiences of myself and a some of my close friends. So this is as much for them as it is for me. And it is also for you.

I recorded these straight into Garageband using my built in mic on my beloved MacBook Pro (God bless Apple Macintosh Inc. the allegiance remains), "mixed" it myself and everything (apologies to any seasoned sound engineers who take offence at my liberal use of the term "mixing"). I could not have done it without my wonderfully supportive boyfriend, Sean 'Threeface' Benson, who not only was my test audience but also was the cheerleader in encouraging me to just do it.

So without further ado, I present to you: Growing Pains Vol. 1: The Demos under my other moniker Jeni Diamondz. Enjoy my homemade experiment. And here's to me saving up the dough so my next project being done in a professional studio! Cheeerrsssss!

Download!

So why record it? Why not a book? Most of the stuff I write, I write to be performed, I guess it's cause I used to rap/MC so naturally I write with certain way of delivering the piece in mind that reading off of a page doesn't really do justice. That's why I've been sitting on stuff for years because I never got round to performing them.

Not gonna lie, putting this out there was more nerve-wracking than doing an open mic at a bar full of blokes who talk all over you. For real. But like one of my Twitter followers told me, "Feel the fear, and do it anyway!"

Let me know what ya'll think...http://www.sendspace.com/file/ko9y49

Ink Flows Part 2

2010-12-23T08:47:00.002Z

The poem and this photograph were created at different times...sometime ago, infact...but both their concepts are intrinsically related.

I assisted Julia Eskell on a couple shoots over summer, and her creative director/stylist Karl made some great sets for the studio shoots. Inspired, I decided to try my own hand at building a set environment to shoot on, and this image was the product. This is my first attempt and the initial test shoot (taken in my living room) for this idea, I'm thinking about how I'm going to translate it to a studio environment, maybe using a real model. The idea would work better in a landscape format, but the space (and material) limitations meant I was limited with how big the set could realistically be. It was fun anyway, great learning curve. I want more, more, more.

Feedback would be great as well...thanks!

Ink Flows Part 1...

2010-12-23T08:47:00.000Z

Ink flows faster than Blood,
So just write,
And bleed out all the Bad Blood trapped up inside,
Ink flows faster than Blood,
So just bite,
On your tongue and let your pen do the talking for the night,

Let it flow, let it go -
Let ink bleed from the pen and stain a crisp page,
Your red rage, let it turn,
To black and to blue,
Disconnect from the pain,
Let it flow through you,
Let your joy be illustrated in cursive and lines,
Let love beat through syllables and be found in the spaces,
Let it nestle in the centre of a 'o' tucked tight,
Discovered by your scholars in ink blots and traces,

Let it flow, let it flow,
Let it go, let it go,
Let words roll from your lips and kiss the blank page,
What your tongue fails to utter, let it dance, let it flutter,
Spiralling through semantics, let your book be the stage

Ink flows faster than Blood,
So just write,
And bleed out all the Bad Blood trapped up inside,
Ink flows faster than Blood,
So just bite,
On your tongue, let your pen do the talking tonight.

A new writing style, don't usually write pieces with such a formal rhyming pattern or discernable stanzas/verses...feel like writing a song now...

See part 2...

The Obligatory End of Year Post

2010-12-20T18:30:00.000Z

I was going to do a month by month round up my year. I thought it would be good. But then after reading some by a couple other bloggers I decided that it wouldn't be that insightful or great...more a personal reflection type thing...

I had the pleasure of purchasing a new diary the other day:

Yes I am a nerd - had you not realised this yet?

It matches the purple scarf Flow made me (with her bare hands) for Christmas...

If you had not realised that purple was my favourite colour, you are not the most observant owl in the roost my friend...

So yeah, no blow-by-bow account for 2010, but I can briefly tell you my highlights (click on the images to go to the archived blog posts about each one):

1) My first professional exhibition at the Arden and Anstruther gallery in Sussex. I subsequently sold the piece that was exhibited as well! Good times. I'm sure that in a few years I'm going to look back on the price it was sold for and laugh...

Sh-sh-sh-shake it like a Polaroid Picture!

2010-12-18T17:47:00.002Z

I got my first complaint about my blog on Thursday night. Basically I'm slipping 'cause I haven't been updating as regularly as I usually do. I could reel off some excuses about dissertation etc. But the disgruntled reader weren't having it. So I'll save my sniveling...

Me and Flow hosted a little festive gathering at our flat. Everyone brought some grub and in the end we were swapped with chicken, pizza, rice and peas and chocolate covered strawberries. 'Twas Good Times Man.

Flow got me an 80s polaroid camera for my birthday and after however many months I found some decently priced Polaroid film from a market near Brick Lane and was tres excited to use it at the party. So here are the snaps:

Polaroids are like a photographic fetish nowadays, especially with them shutting up shop on producing film and what not. The great thing about them is (and I'm stating the obvious here...) is the way that you can have an instant object in your hand, a physical memory of sorts. And in this culture of digital-photos-and-straight-to-facebook-ness and digital photoframes (the thought of them makes me nauseous still) this is something that is quite curiously foreign.

Tasha randomly gave me a disposable camera over summer, and I took a load of photos when me and Sean went to Hyde Park on a gloriously hot Sunday. I didn't hand it in for processing until a couple weeks back, just because when you're used to plugging your memory card straight into your computer, locating and utilising you nearest Jessops is just long. But I did in the end, and leafing through the glossy prints felt quite decadent so I immediately went and got prints from the pictures from my 21st party. Nothing can match it man...

Sam Huntley

2010-12-06T22:28:00.000Z

Today I thought, sincerely thought, for the first time, that I may possibly be doing the wrong course.

We had to hand-in all the work we have done so far this year for a review, and as I was looking around at everyone else's presentations, a thought blossomed in my mind: "I'm really do not appear to have the sensibilities of a Graphic Designer, what the heck am I doing here then..." Maybe I'm wrong, but either way it's a bit too late to be thinking that.

The ~~good~~ great about my course is that even though the title is Graphic Design and Photography, you really can be work with almost anything, as long as you have a fabulous idea behind it. Now I understand why they say it's an IDEAS course, because here, IDEAS matter. Which is why Kingston rocks. It also rocks because it was the only course I found in London which did Graphic Design and Photography as a BA.

So like I said in a previous post, I've been filming and whatnot and today I happened to come across a really good interview with a guy called Sam Huntley, who studied Graphic Design but is a filmmaker. (He also did his foundation where I did mine, Camberwell, although he seemed to have enjoyed it way more than I did...)

Either way, he's great and I can't wait to crack open Final Cut again. But before I do, watch this:

POLISH YOUR SHOES from SAM HUNTLEY on Vimeo.

You can see more of his stuff at www.samhuntley.com and mega-props to Idol Magazine for the interview. Sho. Sho.

Demotivation

2010-12-03T18:19:00.002Z

This weather is killing me.
The combination of freeze and fatigue is slowing me to a standstill. I might have started moving backwards...let me just check...

No. I'm still moving forwards, though painfully slowly...

This week I did some filming in the snow and found out why they call it frostbite. I was wearing three pairs of (cheap, "magic", one size fits all) gloves but the tips of my fingers felt like someone was pinching them with an incredibly small and painful vice. I almost starting crying like a child at one point, but I resolved to sucking on my fingers and thumbs and regained composure...kind of...

This week I have been doing some more reading. All this reading is forcing me to examine myself as a young, black, female "practitioner". My feminist sensibilities are heightening I must say, although I will never be those gung-ho, hairy-legged, bra-burning sort that the media like to generalize the feminist movement to.

Anyways. Time for some self-reflection. You can listen in if you so wish.

I haven't been infront of a camera properly for a while, but when I was did my first test shoot for black and white 35mm I decided I would set up some impromptu self-portraits. I consciously chose everything in the portrait, but it's only on self-reflection I realise how subconscious the decision was as well.

So I feel somewhere in between Delilah (from the film Dead Pre$ident$ that's on the t-shirt I'm wearing) and Wonder Woman (the poster). They are idelogically antitheses, but I do not mean in the middle of them as in the number 5 on a scale of 1 to 10, because in that analogy, one them would have to be lower and the other higher, as in one greater than the other. So looking at the equation in the binary context that our Western society tells us to (good/bad, white/black, right/wrong male/female etc), one would be seen as more stronger, or desirable, than the other ie. Wonder Woman/Delilah.

But that is not what I mean at all. I mean that I am stuck in the middle as in, which one I would rather be like. Wonder Woman is like idealised female patriot, strong, courageous, beautiful. The great, white, light of the Western World.

Delilah (sorry, this may contain plot spoilers) is the less attractive sister of the main characters' girlfriend, who joins the Black Panthers before she becomes the only female sidekick in the bank robbers gang, and partakes in the bank heist plot which ends in her untimely demise. The courageous, though tragic and desperate, revolutionary who refuses to fall in line with The Man and his Euro-centric interests. An anti-hero of sorts.

So which one would I rather be? The idealised, loyal female, standing strong on her patriarchal pedestal? Or the idealised, courageous revolutionary, who would rather go out by her own rules in a hail of bullets, rather than follow the system's oppressive rules and hope to get by?

Then the thought occurs to me, I do not have to do either. That's the power of self-definition my friends.

Coping Strategy

2010-11-29T23:09:00.001Z

I mould the words into a verse,
Or a view into an image,
They serve as affirmation,
Of an emotion,
A time and a place,
They testify that they really did exist,
Beyond my memory,
So when I look back I know I was not crazy,
I really felt it.

And with that, I present to you, "When a House is Not a Home"...

These images were taken when I was living somewhere that I didn't want to live (link to Dog End Alley), but due to an unfortunate series of events I had no other option but to stay there. Was a crazy period of my life really, but very character building, and for that I'm thankful.

I'm also quite excited 'cause I went all Dan-Brown-Da-Vinci-Code on ya'll and apart from the explicit story told, there is also a metaphorical story threaded through the sequence of images. To tell you what it is would be to spoil it, but if you work it out lemme know! Even if you don't get my meaning, I would love to hear your interpretation...that's the fascinating thing about art and stuff, it speaks to people in different ways, but always just as strong.

One for your daughters...

2010-11-27T15:37:00.001Z

"We have never had an opportunity of displaying our talents, therefore the world thinks we know nothing...Possess the spirit of independence. The Americans do, and why should not you? Possess the spirit of men, bold and enterprising, fearless and undaunted: Sue for your rights and privileges...You can but die if you make the attempt; and we shall certainly die if you do not." Black Feminist thinker, Maria Stewart, 1831

For my dissertation I'm reading this book:

It's an eye opener! I tell ya!!

Soon Come.

2010-11-26T22:22:00.000Z

I Walk On Air

2010-11-19T18:57:00.002Z

This is some of the stuff I've been working on over the last few weeks.

This is a photography composite project based on the transcendent nature of life and human existence.

Composite:

made up of disparate or separate parts or elements; compound: a composite drawing; a composite philosophy.
a picture, photograph, or the like, that combines several separate pictures.

The Japanese poet Kobayashi Issa wrote:

This world of dew,
Is but a world of dew,
And yet...oh, and yet...

I love this haiku because it really does capture the nature of life, it's so transitionary, but yet there is something quite captivating about our existence that requires us to philosophise and theorise our existence, and prescribe meaning to our short venture.

Anyways! Onto the work!

I tried out a range of different composite techniques but by far the most successful was the short film that I made:

I Walk On Air from Jeni Jendella on Vimeo.

This is something that I hope to further explore, so watch this space! ;)

Here are some of the other composite techniques that I experimented with:

There's something quite Alice-in-Wonderland-y fantastical about the images, I love it!

I had so much fun during the shoot, frolicking around in the woods early on a Sunday morning. As cheesy as it sounds I recommend it, it really makes you feel...alive... (sorry...I know...it sounds really weird and Age-of-Aquarius-ish)

Anyways, before I go hug some trees or something, here are some of my favourites:

Click here to see more images from the shoot on my Flickr stream!

Kudos

2010-11-15T21:16:00.000Z

Let it never be said of me that I only write rant about people's failings.

Article in today's Evening Standard, a very good article might I add. Tony Thompson writes about "postcode wars" and street politics in the proper way, objectively with relevant interviews and insight.

Not necessarily groundbreaking stuff, but good journalism nonetheless.

I forgive you Evening Standard for your previous misdemeanor.

Have you ever been to the Heartbreak Hotel?

2010-11-11T20:52:00.000Z

I have to admit, I think I've stayed there...twice...maybe more...because I'm emotional like that.

Anyways, my beloved friend and sometimes photographic subject, Ejiro, released a double whammy of mixtapes yesterday. Yes that is two. Both are free. All in all that's...*runs to iTunes*....THIRTY TRACKS! Guaranteed you will find a tune that you would wanna blast at the back of the bus from your phone, if you did those kinda things.

You can download the "Daddy's Boy" mixtape from here: "here".

And the "Heartbreak Hotel" mixtape from here: "here".

I have to admit that I thought I would like the Daddy's Boy mixtape more because I consider myself a bit greezier than your average. But infact, I like both of them equally. And I like both of them a lot. Two of my fave tracks are "The World is Not Enough (All is Nothing)" from "Daddy's Boy" and "One of Them Ones" from "Heartbreak Hotel".

I was gonna post some unseen photographs I had taken of Ejiro..........but I do this thing where I put all the photography projects that I'm not currently working with on my external hardrive, and getting all that out and sifting through it is long.

So here's a photo that you may have seen before:

To get the full story from this shoot and see the video to "Daddy's Boy", this is one I made earlier.

This Pen

2010-11-11T20:28:00.000Z

This poem is dedicated to a Sarah, who bought me a beautiful engraved fountain pen for my 21st. Been sitting on it for a while, I wrote it especially for her so I hope she likes it, but I always hope you guys do too!

With this pen, I will re-write history
Write history again
Ink and cursive flowing from my pen
I will re-write lessons from sad stories
And illustrate a world right before me
Which is painted in the colour of a future that's bright
Freakin' ultraviolet in fact!
And I will fly closer to the Sun that dear Icarus,
With not even a singed tip or tanned shoulder,
I'm not immortal, just bolder
And now that I'm older I will relinquish
My grip on my bucket of bitterness
And let it clatter to the ground spilling
Tears of betrayal, pain and harsh truths
And where I once used salty tears to lick wounds
I will sew stitches with golden thread and diamond tools
Mop my brow with liberty and wash my face in forgiveness' pools
Rise from the ashes with golden wings
Fire burning in my pen
So let me re-write my history
I am not that product of colonialism
A bastard of an unholy alliance
Born of the blood of slaves and the sweat of injustice
I am not lighter than a paper bag, neither does a pencil stay stuck in my hair
And still it does not it fall
A pencil never has been, never will be there
There was no fat mammy in my history, yessuh, naw-uh ma'am,
And I have never been and never will be, infact, never will you see
Your light skin temptress
swinging my hips to your tune of desire
No Creole Lady Marmalade
No whimpering black victim
Born of the hood and lived in
The corner of society, a pilgrim
Neither am I your token, or your passport to equality,
I am not a sign of diversity, I am not the smiling black girl in the back of your government advert with an afro pom pom and white teeth
I echo India Arie, when I say I am not what my hair pertains to be;
Whether creamy crack slicked back, or stitches and tracks
I am beyond whatever you thought I stood for
Beyond whatever you think I will die for
I am here, I have lived
I am a story well-told, I am my words and my ink
I am my bond and my stamp
I am the here and the now and I am beyond
I reconfigure my existence with thought and with song
I am a history well-lived
I am a present given gift
I am a future, a twinkle, the horizon
Or simply,
The light, reflected off this fountain pen nib.

Had to resurrect this old illustration I did way-back-when. :)

Musings on how things are done.

2010-11-04T11:52:00.003Z

When you do something good, and create a storm with everyone clapping and patting you on the back, you can do one of two things. You can a) get complacent and keep riding the wave of your previous triumph to the point that people can bored and begin to de-rate you, or you can b) feel the pressure to put out something fresh while people are still looking in your direction, so you quickly cobble something together in haste.

This is partly down to the nature of our society, if an artist (in every sense of the word) doesn't put something new out for a long time, they are seen as on hiatus, or flagging or failing at life in some way. This is partly also down to our relationship with people, we love the attention and we crave the approval that says "this person is DOING something in life". Even if what we are DOING is crap.

In certain circles it's all about garnering the most amount of support, sometimes before you've even DONE anything. Creating a hype about something that doesn't exist yet but telling everyone about it and expecting them to support because they are obliged to in someway is all the rage. Why though?

Why am I obliged to support something that doesn't exist yet? Is it "hating" to wait and see the fruits of your labour before I decide if I actually like it.

I am talking here about people who you may term acquaintances or "friends" in the loosest sense of the word. Obviously a different set of principles applies to those that you work/live/play closely with, because you see the process of things being made, you can vouch for the progress and that person.

I try not to be one to talk up something too much publicly before it happens. I learned this lesson in primary school when one of my friends always used to boast to me about where her dad was taking her, what she was going to do this weekend, what her mom was gonna buy her. Always boasting about stuff that was "coming". And 9 times out of 10, such things never came. Maybe she was lying through her teeth from the start, maybe she really did think things were coming, but I remember that it made me respect her and her word less. Don't hype. If your product is as good as you say it is, surely it will speak for itself when it drops. Being your own hypeman isn't always the best technique. Not always.

Anyways. I'm working on a couple things at the moment. People keep asking me "what's next for Jendella/Akemi/whatever else" and my answer is always "We/I'm working on a couple things behind the scenes". I hate the feeling that I should remind people that I'm still here, I'm not sleeping on my photography/poetry/whatever, but I should take my own advice and not fret about it and just concentrate on making these next few projects into my best yet.

Let my craft speak for itself. No spoilers.

DPMO: London Evening Standard

2010-11-01T18:08:00.000Z

Once upon a time, when I was younger and even more of an idealist, I wanted to be a journalist.

Then I got older and realised that most journalists did more harm than good to society and the public consciousness in general, and that dream died.

Now I have a healthy and growing disdain for The Media in general, I think if "everything-that-was-wrong-with-society" was one big fat pie chart, The Media segment of the pie chart would look like PacMan:

Or perhaps Killer PacMan:

Images sourced from Photobucket

So anyways, I also think that most of the middle class/upper middle class journo's have a weighty dose of patronising ignorance towards the younger generation. Particularly if you are working class and don't look like them.

I picked up this evenings edition of the Evening Standard and this is what I saw:

After stopping to acknowledge the wittiness of "The 'nang', the 'greezy' and the 'butters'." (go on, we know you're proud of yourself, pat yourself on the back!) my fingers scrambled to pages 22 & 23 to see what the hell the article was about.

Let me cut an acidic rant short.

Another typically ignorant social commentary on youth culture in Britain. Between references to "inner-city neighbourhoods synonymous with gang culture" (only because The Media made them) and stupidly ridiculous phrases such as "down with the brothers", I nearly choked on my own saliva.

I will give credit where credit is due however; the slang dictionary was relevant and up to date, and the journo did interview some relevant people (Ray Lewis who works with young black males in East London and Deborah Sathe producer of E20 - although the use of slang in E20 is pretty laughable to say the least...) but typical to nature of journo who thinks they have a really juicy bone and won't let go (down doggy!) they just couldn't draw too many sensible conclusions now could they?!

"...[Deborah Sathe] hates the way street slang has become associated with crime. "I think the media are at fault for lumping the two together," she says. "Not all kids who use slang are criminals.""

Oh, and that's not at all what you're doing Mr Lindsay Johns with headlines "The language of the capital's gangs" and "The secret world of gang slang"

And the use of the late Marvin Henry's photograph to fill the space where common sense and good journalism could not, is insensitive, if not completely irrelevant, to say the least. Are you saying that his death in a "gang brawl" has anything to do with the use of street slang? Well are you?!

Then to add insult to injury the article doesn't even finish! It just stops, mid-sentence.

I don't care how slow it has been in the newsroom this past week, nothing validates or justifies this.

I did a little google search on Mr Lindsay Johns, and his bio says:

Lindsay is a writer, broadcaster and "hip-hop intellectual".
Britain's answer to Michael Eric Dyson, Lindsay is equally versed in the languages of the academy and the street.
From Shakespeare to Sean Paul and from Boethius to Beenie Man, he relishes his ability to oscillate effortlessly between the classical canon and the contemporary cutting edge.

Erm, excuse me can we swap him for someone else? A different spokesperson for all things black and urban, please? Thanks.

His website also says that he is a volunteer mentor for a "flagship leadership scheme" in Peckham. I guess that qualifies him in The Media's eyes as being an authority on these particular matters as well...*raised eyebrow*

That article rubbed me up the wrong way to the point where I didn't even read another page of the Evening Standard, and it's always been my choice evening commute material!

Anyway! I am off to work at my chosen career path that will I feel will benefit humanity more than another snotty, gassed up journalist: yay for Photography!

P.S. for any lazy, wotless journo who is attempting half-assed research with a hangover and twitchy nostrils (you know what I'm talking about...), DPMO stands for DON'T PISS ME OFF, which is usually accompanied with a roll of the eyes and/or a raised eyebrow and/or the kissing of teeth.

End of October

2010-10-31T16:30:00.001Z

This week started off crap, but ended very well.

I've been experimenting with black and white film photography this last week and a half or so, it's been great fun and I need to find myself a Canon AE-1 on eBay when my bank balance permits.

It's so different to digital photography, almost alien in fact. The first film I completely messed up because I didn't wind back the film properly, meaning that light leaked all over that baby. When I was in the darkroom trying to make some contact sheets, like a pleb I took the photo paper OUT of the darkroom and into the computer room before I exposed my negatives onto it, meaning that it went a funny shade of grey. I thought it was something to do with the paper, that it had gone funny before the photography technician pointed out that light sensitive paper should stay in the darkroom. Didn't I feel silly...

I think I've got the hang of it now and I can't wait 'til my next darkroom tutorial this week. When you process your film and then make your contact sheet and the paper comes out, of the machine that does the dry processing or whatever, it feels like you've had a mini baby. When I was scanning in the negatives to the computer I almost cried. They are so freakin' beautiful man. *wipes tear*

Here are a few shots of me and my twin Flow from my test shoots.

In fact let me dedicate this post to Flow because she's great and I love her and living with her is fab and she makes me lipstick from scratch in all my favourite colours.

I need to get more sleep man...

Yes, You Can Have My Autograph

2010-10-25T21:41:00.000+01:00

First piece of press for the collection!

Akemi hosted a charity fashion show at the beginning of September. We were featured in the magazine that Release International (the charity we raised the money for) send out to their subscribers.

I'm extremely excited about this, for reasons that I'm not going to go into now.

Anyways, for the full story check out the Akemi website and hover over "Our Work" and click the link to Fashion Live 2: A/W 2010.

The Waiting Game

2010-10-24T18:44:00.001+01:00

I went to the Zafaa Awards 2010 on Friday night to watch my friend perform. I had never heard of the Zafaa's before Friday, but basically it's a new awards ceremony honouring African film, so that's Nollywood, Gollywood (that sounds racist), SA-ollywood and all the other 'ollywoods. Personally I think we need to get a new name, because it's starting to sound ridiculous.

African (read Nigerian) timing was prevalent throughout, and I'm as patriotic as the next person but the waiting around and freestyling and ad-libbing with the schedule was a bit too much.

Luckily I had my trusty camera to keep me entertained between the extortionate food price (£5 for a shallow tub of gizzard anyone?) and rude host. I think he was trying to be funny, but sometimes it came off quite offensive - or have I lost my African sense of humour and gained a British one??

I think I should sign off my posts instead of ending them abruptly? Or maybe the abrupt ending could be my "signature".

2 - 0

2010-10-24T02:15:00.002+01:00

In keeping with my last post theme of "Brits do it better!", I spotted the trailer for a US version of Skins.

It's essentially identical to our UK first series, apart from the fact that I'm not exactly convinced. MTV should just import the UK version to American screens instead.

Rule Britannia.

(PS. Saw the video on this blog.)

Win/Fail

2010-10-16T13:39:00.004+01:00

WIN

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOHAUvbuV4o

FAIL

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUG3Z8Hxa5I

Ad agencies love their trends but the Brits kicked the American's azz'es! I'll pass on the Toyota but get me a cold glass of the white stuff and an organic yoghurt to go!

*cue British national anthem*

Black(-haired) Barbie

2010-10-14T23:37:00.001+01:00

An image from a shoot I did at the beginning of September for a fashion label called COCA. I would link you to a site, but as far as I know, the website is not ready...

If I'm honest, I'm becoming a bit disillusioned with fashion photography. Spend half the time thinking...what's the point?...what's the story? Moretimes there isn't one. Just make the model look pretty/edgy/whatever, airbrush him/her within an inch of their lives, make it look flash. Blah. I don't like airbrushing. Yeah, a little tweak and retouch here and there is permissable, but when I'm asked to airbrush them like a ferlippin' acrylic nail I feel like I'm adding to everything that is wrong with society today.

I do like this image though (minimal retouch - lucky for her, her skin/the make up artist was great!), I think it's the hand (our right, her left) that does it. It's the little things that make all the different don'tchaknow!

Anyways this is just a quick post in between memorising poetry and complaining about how much Uni is getting to me (honeymoon lasted all of a week and a bit).

Feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated.

When You Hit The Wall

2010-10-04T22:09:00.001+01:00

*ker-thud*

I've got a hand-in tomorrow so all today I feel like I've been wading my way through a swamp and quicksand trying to finish my proposals.

The project is responding to a headline, my headline was "White Out", and it has tied in nicely with my dissertation research (black women and media representation - in fact it was this project that finally kicked me into doing it over streetwear and youth culture), but I feel like I've hit the wall, motivation wise.

I've drafted up two proposals and I still need to storyboard a short film, but I can't do it. I'll have to do it tomorrow before my hand-in (it's in the afternoon).

Feeling mentally drained, I can't even bear to look at any fashion magazines or anything else. Sometimes you need a break...so I'm gonna pick up a book and read...

Hoping that somehow, someway it will actually be of use for my dissertation...

Speaking of my dissertation, I spent all of Saturday emailing people to interview, photographers, models, journalists and personalities. Got some rejections, but also got some really kool people lined up to interview. Funnily enough it's the people that really matter as well, the ones I think will give me some good stuff. I'll let you know more when I feel like it...

Let me leave you with a photograph...

My boyfriend, August 2010, Peckham Bus Station.

We were on the way to the Daddy's Boy video shoot, but I wanted to test out my 50mm prime lens on him, as I felt I still hadn't got that ONE image of him that I was happy with.

So here is the ONE image, but now I want to take more...

Arise, oh compatriots...

2010-10-01T22:13:00.000+01:00

Today is Friday 1st October 2010.

Today marks the 50th anniversary of Nigeria's independence from the United Kingdom.

Today also marks 50 years of the Flintstones, and the Metro obviously thought of that as a more news worthy spread. *raised eyebrow*

I am intensely proud of my Nigerian heritage. I am proud that I have a green passport. I am proud that I was born there. I am proud that my middle names are Olufunke and Tejumade. Despite all the palaver and the riots, the religious intolerance, the bad press from the BBC and Channel 4, I am proud. Nigeria is a country like no other, our people find themselves in all corners of the world (someone once commented that we are "the Chinese of Africa"), and they never fail to make an impact when they land. I remember when I went to Romania a few years back, when asked if they say many black people in Romania, our Romanian friends told us "only on TV...but there are some Nigerians here".

Today also marks the beginning of "Black History Month" in the UK. When we were younger, October was an exciting time, a time that we could hear stories about the history of our race, we could be inspired by stories of the Civil Rights Movement, the first black people to do this, that or something else. Now that I am older, we seem to look on this month in almost contempt; "One month?! I am not proud of my race for one month, I remember our struggles and triumphs all year round..." etc, etc.

At the risk of sounding "afrocentric" or like a closet Black Panther with a beret and black leather gloves stashed underneath my bed, modern day Western society was built on the backs of beautiful people in varying shades of ebony...this deserves more than a month of recognition, it should be embedded in the curriculum.

I took two young relatives to see an exhibition at the British Museum earlier this year. The exhibition was called "Kingdom of Ife". Aside from my own interest, I hoped to make an impression on them about their West African heritage, but I too left with deeply inspired.

I'm ashamed to admit that subconsciously I bought into the stereotype that my ancestors were primitive, all gallivanting through jungles with spears and loincloths...well I must have done, that has to explain why I was knocked sideways by the skill, the beauty and grace of the brass heads and terracota forms.

Here are some excerpts from articles about the exhibition:

"Archaeologists were astounded by what he had to reveal. How could such sophisticated objects have come out of the Dark Continent? Many experts deemed it to be impossible. These sculptures were not of African origin, they decided: they were evidence of the lost Atlantis of the Greeks."

"For European artists a century ago, African sculpture was powerful precisely because it did not conform to the smooth idea of beauty that Picasso's generation had been brought up on – ideas that went back to classical Greece."

I encourage you to read the full articles, here and here.

What moved me (I don't care if I sound like a sap), was seeing such perfectly rendered forms that reflected the beauty I see in my mother's face. I felt an instant connection with these, not just because I was looking at the art of the ancient Yoruba tribes, but because I was staring at classical art that had cultural reference to me, beyond the pillars and marble of the BMAG. Felt like I was looking into the face of one of the many aunties and uncles from church, from back home, my family, or my parent's friends. It was a beautiful thing guys, if you missed it, you missed out. For real.

It actually just made me want to run back to Nigeria ten times faster...I need to go back there man, my cousin's telling me it's changed so much from when I last went...

Africa will probably forever be seen as the continent with the wild animals, child soldiers and kids with swollen bellies and flies around their mouth to some. But beyond the two dimensional representations of the 'Dark Continent', there is a complex and beautiful tapestry of history and culture spanning hundreds and thousands of years. Africa has it's problems without a doubt, but so does the Western World, and some people would be shocked to know the social and economic problems in their own city, under their very noses. Poverty doesn't just belong to the "third world", my friends.

For my first uni project, I've been looking at the "black identity" and the way that it is communicated through the media, all cliches, stereotypes and caricatures, the topic has interested me so much, I might just change my dissertation topic...but anyways, people are harping on about the "Africa that the media don't show you". Well in honour of "Black History Month", here is the Africa they do indeed forget to show you:

The direct link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=826tpNNrCF0

There's that saying "to know where you're going, you need to know where you're coming from", it's not a necessity, but it sure does help...;)

Nerd.

2010-09-29T19:10:00.000+01:00

I admit that I am a nerd. Not all the time. But when I decide to be a nerd, I really nerd it up.

Nerd. Neek. Geek. Whatever you call it. That's me, so "soopah-kool" with it too.

I've just got back from Uni and I am loving it! Bear in mind, it's only the second day, but already the ball is rolling and I'm getting proper stuck in. I hope this lasts.

I feel a bit scatter-brained at the same time because my attention is everywhere, I'm really tryna be a sponge and soak stuff up, but that means I've got half read magazines littered all over my room, and I really need to get some storage because the way my personal space is being encroached upon in CRIMINAL.

I wanted to find an excuse to blog so here are some stuff I'm liking at the mo'...

One of my flatmates Becky moved out last week (*sniff*) but she left me this amazing present:

I think this will heal my broken heart, as will the fact that my good friend and fellow lanky lightie Flow has moved in! Hoorah!

I am in love with Love magazine's 4th issue. I nearly had a panic attack tryna choose my choose in WH Smith's but I settled for Sienna Miller, though I woulda chosen Agyness if her cover had been there, she's got a beautiful fashion story in there shot by Boo George. Right up my street.

Oh, would you look at that, it's in black and white.

Boo George is an amazing photographer, can't take my eyes off this image he shot of Freja Beha Erichsen:

The expression, the contrast, the focal length...wow. I would put it as my wallpaper, but my boyfriend thinks it's a bit weird when I do that...

I really hope Boo George is the type of guy to google himself and then happen upon this post, because I would love to assist you Mr George!!

Been on the Love website looking through the short films, I really wanna get my teeth into moving image this year, my Grandpa Elephant film whetted my appetite.

Anyways back to the sponging, still got a stack of magazines and newspaper articles I wanna get through...

Fun Times

2010-09-24T10:01:00.001+01:00

My room is a mess because I need more storage, I have too much stuff and I always seem to have too much stuff, however I think the rest of this post will explain why I have too much stuff.

This week I picked up some goodies, goodiebags from two London Fashion Week shows (I loves me some freebies), and my friend Andre bought me this:

Yes, I love X-Men and yes I am a nerd. Gonna start an X-Men marathon soon, just another thing to add to my never-ending guilty pleasure list.

I also picked up some old books from a bookshop belonging to a university that I don't go to. I don't think it's illegal to set foot on another university campus without formal invitation but it felt taboo all the same.

I'm loving the fact that therese books are in Hebrew and Chinese. What I'm going to do with them, I have no idea, the official excuse is "props for a shoot" but really I just love the look and the feel and the fact that they're in another language. "Can you read Chinese or Hebrew?" I hear you ask....No...but I might be able to learn Hebrew at least, one of them looks like some kinda teaching book.

See those yellowing pages, I love 'em!

I didn't even tell you about the old TV I found abandoned near my house did I?

It actually still works, I think I need an aerial for it. Once again another "prop for a shoot".

And this mis amigos, is one of the reasons I have too much stuff, I am a compulsive collector of old stuff (and a hoarder of DVD collections of cartoons from my childhood)...

On to the new stuff...

I really wasn't planning to go to any London Fashion Week events, mostly because I couldn't be bothered to go about the task of procuring invites and whatnot. Luckily for me I have friends and family who do such things and then I can tag along as a plus one...that's called 'teamwork'!

I'm really not a fashion blogger, and I think I should leave it to the pro's like my friend J'ara Ami but I went to the Bunmi Koko show and it was amazing!

I loved the bright print fabrics and the masks were beautiful, loadsa pompoms, tassling and shapely garments. Bellisimo!!

Went to the Cassette Playa afterparty at Alibi in Dalston, the music was such an eclectic mix, was great, bar the couple of posey type fashion people. But it got pretty intense:

So many cameras and snappers, hopefully my picture's not gonna turn up anywhere random, or somewhere I don't want (like Vice's DON'T column, oh my gosh, my worst nightmare!) but after a quick scan of the blogs, I'm nowhere to be found, so that's great.

So yeah, I start Uni next week. Final year. Whoopee.

Fini.

2010-09-21T13:41:00.001+01:00

Been doing the rounds of updating my online presence the past week in preparation for a fresh year at Uni and hopefully to demonstrate the progression I've made since the start of 2010.

So that's

a new Twitter avatar (I'm still in love with my background and to be fair the av's only gonna last as long as my hair does, ha!)
a new header illustration for this wonderful blog right here
a serious update of my Flickr stream and deleting all horrendous previous uploads
updating the Jendella Portfolio with fresh work and also streamlining the menus and a few more tweaks to hopefully make it a more pleasurable interactive user experience (as well as amending some of the bio section to remove cheesy remarks, ugh, what was I thinking?!)

Also, for a limited time there is an animation piece up on first page of the site when you enter. Limited time because I'm working on another shoot which will replace it when it's done because I'm confident that it will be brilliant.

Click, click, share mes amis.

PS. I was considering moving my blog to another platform, but after doing some research I'm not sure why I should...apart from the fact that other platforms seem slicker and newer and do fancy slideshow things with images (that incidentally I don't really want on my blog, I like the magazine concept of going through at your own pace, rather than being thrust through against your will). Unless anyone cites a valid reason why Blogger is redundant (apart from it being an #ImageTing) I shall stay put.

If I Were A Boy...

2010-09-19T17:14:00.000+01:00

My good friend Ejiro released his debut music video, "Daddy's Boy", a couple days ago. If I were a boy, I would have made a cameo appearance, but I was there snapping away for GospelCypher regardless.

I also had the pleasure of designing the "Daddy's Boy" tee that he wears in the final section of the video.

Looks mighty good, even though I do say so myself.

Another Summer 2010 project done and dusted, I really like designing tee's, think this is my 4th one...

Anyways, watch the video: