Hey guys,

My next post is from my being too cerebral for my own good, bear with me.

I’ve always been a thinker and sometimes, I wonder if that hasn’t been the source of some of my challenges. I never did what others were doing and when I tried, it hasn’t always paid off.

I’ve turned out to be very idealistic, not settling for anything less than my convictions.

Tonight, I just want to vent, unburden. There’s so much I am involved with at the moment, I should not carry any junk in my trunk; I want to travel light.

I apologise in advance for the way my ranting may be received (especially as this is one in a series of “Last Sorrys From ‘Moye”) but I prefer to get things off my chest that have no influence on my future endeavours. Do not sweat the small stuff, drop the heavy stuff and carry only the relevant.

Thanks,

Thespian Muse.

hello guys.

i did say i would write more. Well, this is me, keeping that promise only two weeks later. better late than never i guess.

i thought i should share something from another writer. a critic actually. i recently featured in a stage production, heartbeat musical, and it was reviewed.

the play was set in the 60s and we were teenagers. well, here goes...

http://www.veestaonline.com/index.php/theatre/theatre-reviews/item/109-theatre-review-the-heartbeat-musical

i'll be doing another one soon, LITTLE DROPS. every sunday in march at terra kulture. you don't miss the chance to do your own analysis. details coming soon, just save the dates.

Yo!

I think someone should sue me for misleading my readers into thinking this was one of the more serious blogs of 2011. Or offer me some money and a deadline, and I'll probably sit up much straighter. That seems to be a great motivator nowadays!!! How could I take something so beautiful, encourage my readers and followers and then disappear for 10 days short of a whole year? That has to be punishable by some sort of confinement!! Perhaps I'd get locked up on a far away island with Tyson Beckford or Wentworth Miller.... or maybe Lance Goss! Ah, yes. I plead very guilty! lool!

Oh well, before I continue, I have two things to say:

1) Welcome to this beautiful year. It's started on a shaky and very disappointing note, but nothing will quell the fire in your heart. We will achieve greater heights in 2012, and not just because custom demands we speak positively at the beginning of each year, no matter how we turn out in May... We all will, because we are committed to working hard and sowing during this season of our lives. We will reap now and much more in our evening years.

2) I must show you guys how sincere my apology is. I won't be hasty in promising my undying commitment to this blog, rather, I will prove myself and hope to woo you back to my bosom.

Diva On Life is life, living and (I dare say) love from my perspective. Yes, I am a diva. Unlike those with lots of demands, drama and no depth, I am drawn by the spirit of excellence. I am skilled, I am an authority in my field. Yes, I see myself there, so I might as well act it. I am an authority on a lot of things, so I will use this medium to do a lot of correcting of wrong impressions, even as I am open to change and evolution.

So, this is a 2012 welcome to my blog. I will not be compelled to comment on hot topics unless I am inspired to, so don't expect cliches. I will write per inspiration and draw from the skies when I seem to lack it. lol! but you can count on me to be open, frank and honest with you. This is my heart's joy

Welcome to DIVA's perspective ON LIFE, 2012

Occupational Hazards

Sweet sleep, funny dream, la la land. Slowly, I wake up, smiling inwards as my body emerges from a well rested place. My eyes open and for the first instant, I am not sure where I am.

Eyes dart to the windows and at the faint hint of daylight I PANIC!!

Suddenly, thoughts swarm in my head; "What day is it?", "Is it Friday?", "No! I can only remember a Thursday". "It's got to be Friday and I've overslept!!" "The driver and Arthur have come and tried to reach me, but I switched my phone off and now they've left me & I've missed work and I'm in BIG trouble!!! Oh my goodness!!!!" My pulse increases and I feel like I would be sick. Then it hits me.

I do not have a complete memory of Thursday (and I don't happen to be friends with 'the bottle'), so there was a gap between Thursday afternoon when I slept off on my Sidney Sheldon emotional escape and Thursday night's off-to-bed-routine (if I'm honest about having one)?

It HAD to be Thursday evening! As I reach for my little secretary, the one who schedules appointments and takes your e-mails, twitter and face book messages, I say a short prayer in my mind. As I reach for the blackberry, it all comes back to me. I had gone to bed hungry, deciding to eat after my nap.

It takes my body only 2 seconds to realize it's still Thursday evening, and what turned out to be such sweet sleep had toyed with my brain.

......and 15 minutes for the shock to wear out.

Now, my job requires a very early start. I remember telling my Mother in that idealistic attitude and all-knowing tone of mine; "I don't like nine to five jobs. I would never take a job that makes me get out of bed before 5.30".... Now, a few years later, though I have quit the 9-5 train, I do wake up at 4am every day to resume work at 5am. My body has lost ownership of her routine and the 'little secretary' has taken over. Alarms here, notes and reminders there.

A minute version of paranoia has hit me and my prevailing thoughts are not be late for work, trying not to keep Arthur (my co-host on the Morning Drive) and the driver waiting when they come to pick me up, the fact that it would be fatal to oversleep, what to do for my listeners.....the list is endless. In the end, I under-sleep and sometimes get cranky.

I've learnt to perform without my beauty sleep and I'm really not doing badly.

However, in spite of these hazards I find that I'd rather wake up at 3.48am to do a job that I love, than wake up at 7.30am to one I endure.

Lesson: Nothing is ever totally wrong. Live life, love it and leave a legacy.

Love ya, Muah!!

I know I should have started my first post of the year with a big HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! but I'm sorry to break the norm. I have a thoughtful idea for that, coming to you shortly.

However, I do wish you all a wonderful year though, and I really love you.

God bless you richly!

2010 was one heck of a year for me. I will not talk about the many changes and transitions i went through that year.....Yet. I'd rather recall one moment of "great" (forgive what may appear cocky) inspiration. I didn't feel confident about this work, but a few respected creatives have read this poem and encouraged me to publish it.

May/June 2010, on my previous job, one that I totally loved!!! we were planning a film forum for women. Headline was:

"AFRICAN WOMEN'S DEVELOPMENT FUND AND LUFODO

ACDEMY OF PERFORMING ARTS PRESENT: AFRICAN WOMEN IN FILM FORUM.

THEME -NOLLYWOOD: WOMEN AND THE DYNAMICS OF REPRESENTATION".

We had guests from around the world. Besides the preparing the budget et al, part of my job was to contact them for travel details, pictures and profiles for the brochure. One of the speakers was South African based film maker/actor, Akin Omotosho whose photograph inspired me to high levels.

The picture was of a man facing the camera (of course), and backing an empty theatre. The rows of empty seats and that hard wooden stage floor spoke to me! I saw Omoye on that stage, shoes clicking, voice vibrating, pacing, everyone listening to me.

What that thought birthed was.......

LISTEN

listen...
footsteps, walking towards you.
throngs of feet travelling a long journey.
needing a resting place; a stool, a mat, a stone.

listen...
heartbeats reaching out to you.
torrents of dreams and aspirations, depending on you.
searching for guidance, leading, direction.

listen...
Hear the sounds from distant lands
Pay attention to the sound of the wind.
Bringing their cries with it.

Listen!

No one will stop talking if you don't listen.
Words will keep flowing from our mouths, our hearts, in our tears, through our anguish, in pain, in our disappointment, in sorrow, in death! WORDS!

Mere words you say? (Chuckle)

Oh, but you will listen.
'Cause when you're talking to your clan of detractors and distractions, you will hear.
While you're dancing at your yacht parties and orgies,
You will hear.
At your mock meetings and false fora,
You will be hearing our voices. Prodding you, urging you, calling you.... LIAR!

When you dine with you wives,
You'll hear our widows wailing.
When you chat with your children,
You will hear our orphans, sniffing (sniff). Silently, steadily.
When you sleep, you will hear the sounds of dissent, seeping through your ears into your subconscious.

And until you listen, we will never stop talking...
Until the sound of our voices produce words...
And our words form beings.
Then our beings will become bodies...
And the bodies will have soul...
The soul of the body will have heart...
A heart that fears nothing but the inability to do what's right.
He will not fear you; she will not tremble at your voice, these sounds of our voices.

And one day, when they multiply, they will come knocking, beating down your door, demanding an explanation; asking you,
Sir, Ma'am. Why. Don't. You.... Listen?

- Omoye Uzamere.
June 2010.

Hello guys!!!

I have been suffering from what Eminem would remember only too well: Writer's Block. It seemed like I could no longer write; not on a whim, nor on a deadline. I hated the fact that I started blogging and abandoned it. I even dug up an old poem (Winding Paths), just so that my regular readers (bless your dear hearts!!) wouldn't be disappointed. Being the sort of person I am, I basked in my "writer's block", waiting for a deep wave of emotion to sweep over me and wash me back into the sea of inspiration. Apparently, as the popular (and I dare say, Aunty Dora) NAIJA saying goes, I de old.

What I chose to do instead was to put down on my blackberry, every thought that comes to mind. Yes Sah, the bb can be very useful. I started going to Thursday poetry sessions at Bogobiri and got inspired again, many thanks to folk like Wansie, Tolu and Ferdie.

Still adamant to find the same old high, I went scouting for old poems I had written, rather than try my hands at writing new material. Whilst thinking of my opening speech (which, in my opinion, is usually an artist's explanation) for a particular piece, I found myself writing this and thought it worthy of sharing, whilst waiting ....

What I love about artists is how we're able to express our emotions so unreservedly.
It is how open we are about a thought, a feeling, an emotion.
We let it work through us and run its course, knowing that it will not happen forever and without holding on to it, we're open to new expressions the very next moment.
It doesn't make us fickle or unstable; it simply shows we have that key quality everyone needs to live well.... The ability to smell roses.

We can sing in one moment about how torn our heart is and how we hate you for leaving; yet in the next we celebrate the beauty of love and swimming butterflies....

We can paint our pain and our joy so blatantly on one canvass.
We write words we would dare not speak to any human boldly on white paper.
We compose music that you'd gyrate to, make love to, meditate to, cry to....

We know you know the notes of our heart!

The tunes and strokes and cuts and innuendos that speak the love, the joy, the pain, the hurt, the Feelings that we're feeling!!
I love art.

So today, whilst I ponder on the subject and meaning of that ever evasive word, Love, I'll share some thoughts I'd written about two years ago, in a relationship I thought was made in heaven.

Here goes....

NB: I never performed that poem. Now, what does that say of me? I guess it served its purpose already! Yayyy!!!

Love, Diva.