Friday, April 18, 2014

Ngoma (The Acoustic Fooling Around In The Living Room Version)

So, a while back, I was fooling around in my living room with my fantastic guitarist Toby, and we did this acoustic version of my song "Ngoma", I thought you may like to have it so it's available for download here.
So enjoy, while you wait, for, you know.......the album.


Sunday, January 19, 2014

Boxes, Darkness, Ashes.

It's funny, I think.

How badly we search for and seek out positivity in our lives nowadays. 

'Be positive.'
'Look on the bright side.'
'It's all in your attitude.'

It feels as though that's all we're ever doing now. Joy and happiness are not things that come to us in simple experiences. Life has become such a challenge that we now have to actively seek out the joy in things. We read books and articles and attend seminars and search for answers about how to 'live in the moment' and 'be present', so that we can tune our minds to a frequency that endures the constant drone of misfortune happening around us. We're now seeking out lessons on how to be okay, happy even, despite what life hands us. 

Could be that we bring it on to ourselves, though. The misfortune. For instance, I find myself tangled up in my dark emotions more frequently than I would like. And I think I realize now that usually, in my moments of joy and laughter, I have managed to disentangle myself from the darkness, but rather than shove it into a box and lock it and burn it, I am in the habit of wearing the heavy coils of darkness around my neck. Winding it around and around, mistakenly believing that I'm in control of it. And there I place it, like a necklace, allowing it to sit and bask off of my victories, and letting it have access to my vulnerabilites too often. Not realizing that the whole time it is slowly creeping right back to my neck, lusting after the chokehold I allow it to have. 

Somebody slap me.
Hell, I'll slap myself. 

I'm stashing that nastiness into a box and burning it.

And then feeding the ashes to a unicorn. I hear those creatures have the ability to digest anything into a spray of glitter. 

Later folks. 

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Your Song.

A dear friend of mine, Wangari, shared this today.

There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.

And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.

In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.

The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.

And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.


Monday, January 13, 2014

Transform Me.

"Life is going to present to you a series of transformations. And the point of education should be to transform you. To teach you how to be transformed so you can ride the waves as they come.......
But you can’t learn when you’re afraid. You cannot be transformed when you are afraid."
Junot Díaz, speaking at Yale.

I'm all about transformation right now,with fear being one of my biggest challenges. I take lessons from everything around me, every situation, every experience, every person. And now I believe more than ever that aside from recognizing the lesson, I have to use it to transform myself in only the best of ways. I know that transformations which are painful are so because they are worth it, which is why I'm fighting the fear with every ounce of courage I can muster. I want to be the best of myself. 
And then some.

Bring on the pain. 
I shall relish it because I know it can only lead to greatness.

Happy New Year.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Zanzibar Pt 1 - Kizimkazi

Took a break a little while back and hit the Southern tip of Zanzibar. It was glorious. Stayed at a place called The Residence and I almost didn't come back. 

Everywhere you look is breathtaking. 
Find me on Instagram - MissKihoro 
I post more pictures there. 


Sunday, May 26, 2013

Fun with Fabric.


Yes. It has been 2 and a half months of silence. Yes. But I must say, I figured it out. I finally realised something monumental about myself that is really so simple but quite substantial, and that explains the huge gaps between posts. And a lack of musical releases and a lack of more writing. That's going to need a post on its own.

But the irregular posting thing should change because I can finally blog off of my phone. Which I am doing right now. Score.  

But this post is about my playtime with fabric.

I was away in Nigeria for about a month -another post as well, there's about 20 posts stored in my brain ummm.... store - and for those that know me you know that my absolute obsession with Kitenge/Ankara fabric runs a tad on the crazy side. Well, I had just one hour to shop. One hour in the whole month. Not per day. One whole month in Naija with just one hour to shop on the day before my trip back. I made it worthwhile though, and scored lots of fabric. 25kgs of excess baggage worth. Score.

Now usually, what would generally happen when I have a stash of fabric in my possession, which I usually do, is a stare down. I go to the stash and just stare at it, imagining what glorious things can come of it. And this can last months because of how indecisive I am. But not this time. Well, ok, maybe that did happen, for about a month after I got back. But then, my friend was heading out to Cannes a couple of weeks ago with her daughter, Cricket, who is 6 months old tomorrow so I figured I could ruffle up some thingamajigs for her. Cricket that is. I decided head thingies with bows on them would be cute, but I couldn't figure out how to make sure they were comfortable enough for a baby. Took me a day to get a light bulb moment. Jersey fabric. Which I promptly cut off from one of my long, super comfy vests that I have in many colours.

The fabric off of this is über soft and elastic so I knew there'd be no uncomfortable tension on Cricket. Then what happened next, I apologise, but I don't remember in precise detail. I sort of just figured it out as I went along, but there was glue, needles and thread, lace, wine, Olivia Pope, ribbons, buttons, all things I have in my DIY stash, and some cursing involved.

The fabric I selected, had lots of dark pinks and purples, to match Cricket's outfits. Her mum is not too big on colour blocking. She gave me some serious side eye once when I suggested an orange sweater with a pink tutu for a wedding. 

And the result?

The black and green jersey fabric I got from t-shirts. I also made a couple of them thick so that they would cover Cricket's ears in case it was cold. 

And so that Cricket's mum wouldn't feel left out I made some bangles for her. Although the head thingies are stretchy enough to fit her as well.

Her mum is more into earth colours, warm tones and such. Much more grown up.

I made a tower. Not as easy as it looks with a couple of glasses of wine down at 3 am. Yes, I was up late. 

And then so that I wouldn't feel left out, I made some candle stick holders for my place. Fabric, ribbon, and empty booze bottles.

Yes. That was fun. 

So finally, my model and face of my line of baby thingamajigies, presenting...


She's perfect.

Later then.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Challenge. Week 2.

For week two of the 10 week challenge, I grabbed my DSLR, which I got a year ago, but have been too afraid to do anything significantly significant with it because, well, I am no Jim Chuchu, or Mutua Matheka. I'm surrounded by a ton of epic photographers in my life and to be honest, I feel massively intimidated.

Well, anyway, a friend of mine kinda just called me out and asked me to shoot her portfolio. Of sorts. Her name is Rafia Essuman. She is delving into modelling and is a stunner, to say the least. I did her make up, basic styling, direction and photography. I named this particular collection of ten shots, "Thought".

These are the kind of shots I saw myself taking when I first dabbled into photography, intimate portraiture that brings out that inner vixen (or fox) in a person.

She's gorgeous, right?

Oh, and a quick mention about my new blog banner. Figured a change was due so whipped it up real quick today.


Challenge. Week 1.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine, an artist of epic proportions, got a few of us other artists/creators/make-it-happen-ers that he knows and thinks should be doing a lot more than they currently are, and challenged us to do something creative, using whatever medium, and submit a project for the next ten weeks. Ten projects, to be clear, using whatever medium we choose.

Not as easy as it sounds, but it's a wonderful challenge and it means I get to create something, work on something, constantly.

It's been two weeks now and yo, the people in this group are something else. We are a group of ten animators, singers, producers, illustrators, actors, fashion designers, film makers, photographers, writers, stylists, screen writers, goes on. I'm loving it, because it's making me DO, and not think so much about unimportant fluff like why I can't do what I want to do rather than just do it.

So here is my first weeks' submission.

I got some old empty booze bottles, smirnoff, tusker and the like, cut the tops off and covered them in kitenge fabric, which I do with a ton of stuff.The vases are now happily living at The Nest, enjoying all the epic artistry that happens there.

All other empty bottles beware, a beheading awaits you.
Ok, thanks and bye.

Thursday, March 7, 2013


The only thing constant is change.

This might be the only one statement I prescribe to, well, that and, 'Everything happens for a reason'.
I don't know of any others that stand true in every single moment that I breathe.
It's always happening, being, taking place, existing.

Sometimes change happens to you, and other times you make change happen.

Well, a lot's been changing in my life. As it always is.
The love I spoke of in my last post, well, it came to it's anticipated, not-so-happy end a little while back.
We knew it was coming, the both of us.
Us lovers.
Us former lovers.
Ex lovers.

The love still lives, it will possibly never stop, but it resides in a dark, hidden chamber that I had to seal and push far back into the recesses of my heart and mind. In a dark corner where I won't see it if I go wandering back there.

It's not that I regret it, oh no, far from it.
It wasn't bad, or ugly. It was beautiful. And bright. Happy.
I wouldn't change anything about it, at all. It was, is actually, the biggest determinant of who I am today.
My biggest lesson.
My proudest one yet.

This last time, though, that we ended, was the very last time, the last of many, many times that we tried.
The absolute last.
The last goodbye.
It was different though, it came with a resounding understanding that this time, I want to look ahead.
Even the dreams and hopes and wants that I had for my life, they had to change too.

Everything changed.

And with that came guilt.
Guilt because I am so stubbornly determined to look ahead.
I realise that this is a choice I am making.
Before, those many times before, I didn't want to move on.
And I chose not to.
But now I do.
I have to.
To move away from the never ending circle, knowing that the very reason I can't be with him, is, if anything, one of the things that makes me love him even more.
Made me love him even more.
That's in the past.

I have to look at a different future.
I am looking to a different future.
Looking towards all the things that will be, now that we have gone our separate ways.
Looking past the guilt I feel at wanting so badly to be happy, and no longer holding this person at the centre of that joy that I so desperately seek.
Guilt because now my future will have to include someone else.

The guilt is waning though.
Slowly but surely it's fading.
I'm emerging somewhat lighter, and gentler on myself.

I deserve to be happy, and so does he.
I would have so readily traded in my happiness for his.

But now, with a smile, gratitude to him, and the gentle songs we play, I move towards bigger times, and a wider space.
I acknowledge that my path has changed,
I accept that it is the right one,
and I choose to follow it.

Or maybe this is where it was leading to the entire time.

Monday, November 12, 2012


I am such a romantic.

Really. I am.
Ridiculously so.

I'm the kind of person who can watch grass grow and think about the wonders of love and all the motions it's taken me through.

I don't know.

Maybe I'm one of those people who believes love always comes out on top.

But then again, I'm not sure I do.

Because I'm so in love.
But I know for a fact there's no happy ending coming out of this one.

I wish there was, but he sorta made it clear. He did. The universe did.
I did.

I don't know who did...but it's clear.

So what does that mean?

That I'm so very deeply in love.
And nothing is changing that.

Love is a wonderful thing.

And I love that I love the person that I'm in love with because I can't imagine being in love with anyone else.
I love him. And I have for a while.


It's weird saying that I'm in love.
It feels very.....lame.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

So.....5 months later...

Five months since my last post and boy has a lot been going on.

Where do I start? Well, as I write this I’m listening to Jeff Buckley on a Polish bus, driving through a highway in Holland, on my way to Belgium for some sightseeing, shopping and a theatre show later in the evening.


So here’s how I got here.

Back in March this year, a little after my last post, I auditioned for a musical show that I found out about on Facebook. The show was meant to showcase Kenya as a beautiful tourist location, rich in music, dance and wonderful people and was to tour a couple of European countries. I didn't know that. I just thought it would be a great opportunity to get back into musical theatre after a long while, and possibly travel while doing it. After a rigorous audition process, well….I was selected, and I am now part of a 15 member cast with a 7 piece band and have been in Holland for 3 weeks now. There’s another 10 weeks to go and, well, it’s friggin’ awesome.

Between then and now, so much more happened before we left. I got a new camera, started practicing bikram yoga have been deeper in love than I ever thought possible, and have gone through the highs and lows of it, drinking it all in. And damn it, it tastes good. I got a dog, a little pup called Zawadi who is the cutest diva of them all. She took over my little apartment and has been calling the shots since. She sometimes shoots down my outfits with a look that says, “You’re not gonna wear that, are you?”, as she sits regally on my bed.

 I have been reading a lot more and have taken a 6 month hiatus from my radio job and, well, I shaved off most of my hair. I have been listening to more music, immersing myself deeper and carelessly into the throes of love and have endured it’s pain over and over again, although it’s been the good kind of pain, I must say, the one that you don’t understand at the time, and you curse at because it hurts like hell and you think is so ridiculously unfair, but leaves you shinier and more polished when it’s done. Funny enough I feel even more loved and more in love than ever. I have learnt so much about myself this year that it is almost difficult to remember who I was before October of last year. Come to think of it, it’s been a year since I fell in love with that person. That one love that changed me. I’ll call him Shams, after Shams of Tabriz, the great Sufi poet Rumi’s beloved companion who changed him in a most, painful, drastic and beautiful way. But that’s another post all together.

Now, I’m happily single, still in love, traversing Europe with a bunch of amazing, funny, witty, annoying, stubborn, fantastic, talented, irritating, caring, adventurous, loving and infuriating folk, having a great time doing something I absolutely love. Being on stage singing my heart out.

The shows we've done so far have been great, and the reception is awesome. Folks here love the show, “Out Of Africa: A Safari Through Magical Kenya.”

Of course weve had our bad days, the hurdles that took a hell of a lot from us but we jumped over them, and we’re learning to jump higher, faster and more gracefully as we go along. And the good days, well those have been super.

This year has been a fantastic ride, and the fact that there are 3 more months to go, well, it’s gonna be one hell of a destination.

Also, the windmills in Holland freak the bejeezus out of me. They’re creepy. They are creepy giants. Waiting. To take over the world.

Catch you later folks.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Power Games.

This past Sunday, I spent the day at home without electricity. Now, for most people living in Nairobi, that's nothing to write home about, but indulge me. Electricity in our compound disappeared at about 11:30 Saturday night and didn't return until Monday morning at 10:30. I had been out of home all day Saturday, so by the time I got back, my phones were blinking with low charge on their batteries. I went straight to bed, hoping power would be back in the morning but unfortunately, the annoying sound of the water pump that usually drives me up the wall was absent, and that brought me close to tears. Add onto that, one dead phone, and another with barely 5% of battery charge left, I couldn't entertain myself with mindless internet as I waited for the ever faithful KPLC folk to attend to our little situation.

I decided, as it was Sunday, "Why not sleep in a little longer?" My HD dreams could certainly entertain me for a couple more hours, by which time power would definitely be back, right? Wrong.

About 7 minutes later, with sleep proving very elusive, I rolled out of bed and made myself the only edible thing in the house. A cup of black coffee, which I must say I could gladly live on.( Confessions of a caffeine junkie). I grabbed an old magazine and settled back into bed for a read. 11 minutes later, bored out of my mind, I grabbed some yarn and decided to start on a scarf for a friends daughter. I figured I could ponder life's mysteries as I watched the wool weave into something.

No such luck.

Now, usually, I am on Twitter or Facebook or Instagram(MissKihoro) or Pinterest or Tumblr (Rehab anyone) or the general web, every other minute, updating myself on what's going on but at this point, I resorted to putting my phones far from me, to avoid the disappointment of a blank screen every time I tried to check on any one of the sites for anything new.

Another thing, my car is at the garage, and has been for a couple of weeks now, so what would have been my default plan as soon as I woke up to just up and leave and look for a friend with power at their house to hang out, was not a viable option. And yes, I could have just taken a matatu, right? Again, wrong. Because that would have entailed my getting out of my pyjamas, getting in the shower and actually getting dressed. Which doesn't fly with me most Sundays.

Fast forward to 3:30pm, my mum stopped by for a bit, so I grabbed a ride to the kiosk up the road to buy some groceries. Got back home, whipped myself up something to chew on. And then...blank.

I got restless again and decided to take a walk. I asked the watchmen why KPLC had not shown up. Apparently it was an internal problem, our electricity hub got flooded and subsequently the cables got soaked. But, one block had power. KPLC was not gonna come through to fix THAT problem on a Sunday, despite several calls from other residents. I wanted to scream.

Knocked on a neighbours door, looking for company, no one was home. Or maybe he just didn't feel like my company because his car was parked outside. I skipped my other neighbour's house because I didn't want to go through the same disappointment of finding nobody home. Phones were dead. Couldn't call.

I retreated to my house. Ready to start counting the strands on my carpet to pass time. I did my nails. Yikes.

It started to grow dark, and the looming rain laden clouds hastened the darkness. I realized I had about 3 candles left. What to do. I created a little cove on the floor right next to the window, found some little scented tea lights, and the three candles. I pulled some magazines close, and stacked a couple of books closer. I vowed to sit there, in the silence, and do whatever came to me.

Floor Chill Out.

It was hard. Slowing my mind down. I realized that it's been ages since I had done this. Sat in silence. And allowed my mind to just stop and breathe. The moment I started to contemplate the calm, the trees outside my window and the now torrential rain pounding the ground, I balked, and grabbed whatever was close. Which included my hair. I really did pull my hair out that day. Lot's of it. Anxiety at its worst. I found a camera. Took a few pictures. Of the rain drops. The window. The candle flames. The trees. I was too afraid of being still. I thought of a friend, far away, having taken a vow of noble silence, and spending 2 weeks meditating for 11 hours a day. With no phones. No paper to write on. Nothing to read. Nothing. Just silence. How on earth do you even begin?

I then went through half a magazine, careful not to fall asleep because that would mean a night of wakefulness, lying in bed staring into the dark with no source of light as the candles would be done, (I sometimes get really afraid of the dark.) I then grabbed a book, Dan Brown's "Lost Symbol", which I have been eyeing but have been too taken by Haruki Murakami. The book was a great choice. I read it for about 3 hours, and it kept me gripped, and finally retreated to the bedroom where I read for another hour, then took something to help me sleep, without which, I would have stayed awake, the candles would have run out, and I would have been left clawing my hair out.

Next morning, woke up and BOOM. Electricity was back.

I'm secretly hoping for another situation like this one. I need to confront my stillness.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Like This

If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky,
climb up on the roof
and dance and say,

Like this.

If anyone wants to know what “spirit” is,
or what “God’s fragrance” means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.

Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.

Like this. 
Like this.

When someone asks what it means
to “die for love,” 
point here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.

This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns.
When someone doesn’t believe that,
walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,
they’re telling our story.

Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.

Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.

Like this.

How did Joseph’s scent come to Jacob?


How did Jacob’s sight return?


A little wind cleans the eyes.

Like this.

When Shams comes back from Tabriz,
he’ll put just his head around the edge
of the door to surprise us

Like this.

Rumi, Like This.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Light Shadow.

I'm currently reading "Kafka On The Shore" by Haruki Murakami, a gift from a friend, and a character in the book, a cat, while conversing with a human, tells him that he's noticed that his shadow seems light, like half of it is missing.

It prompted me to ponder.

If one day you woke to find,
That your shadow was not as dark as it should be,
Would you care?
Would you task to find out why?

And if you did decide to question it,
What would you ask first?
Would you question the light that shines on you or would you look into yourself?

Would it be that the light was so bright,
That some of it passes right through,
Such that your shadow became dilute?
Or would it be that the light became dimmer,
Less than what it should be?

Or in questioning yourself,
Would it be,
That the darkness within grew larger,
And larger until,
The light that falls on you would be diminished?

Leaving your shadow less and less of what it should be.


Wednesday, February 1, 2012


We grow older, we shed a few things, pile on others, let things and people go, and make new connections with new and better ones.

Well, I'm de-cluttering. I feel the need to be as bare as I can be. And that translates into everything around me. I want no layers entrapping me, and stifling me. I realize that this has been a major reason for my lack of posting, my lack of sharing and my lack of expression. It's been as though a heavy canvas cover has been holding me down, and blocking my outlets.

The blog looks different now. It's cleaner. It's bare.

This is step one. As I go along, I'll learn more. But I plan on making things around here as light as possible. Light enough for you, and I to grasp, and connect with. Light enough for it to show.

That's the word I'm looking for.

I made a decision recently. To own my shit. To bare myself, steadily, until it is my nature to be sheer. To be me without any blinds.

Let us begin.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Learning to Sit Alone, in a Quiet Empty Room. By Leo Babauta

‘All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.’ ~Blaise Pascal.

Think about some of the problems of our daily lives, and how many of them would be eased if we could learn to sit alone, in a quiet empty room, with contentment.

If you’re content to sit alone quietly, you don’t need to eat junk food, to shop on impulse, to buy the latest gadget, to be on social media to see what everyone else is talking about or doing, to compare yourself to others, to make more money to keep up with the Joneses, to achieve glory or power, to conquer other lands or wage war, to be rude or violent to others, to be selfish or greedy, to be constantly busy or productive.

You are content, and need nothing else. It solves a lot of problems.

Can you sit alone in an empty room? Can you enjoy the joy of quiet?

Most of us have trouble sitting alone, quietly, doing nothing. We have the need to do something, to check our inboxes and social media, to be productive. Sitting still can be difficult if you haven’t cultivated the habit.
I’ve been learning. In the morning, as my coffee is brewing, I sit. Even for a few minutes, at first, it is instructive. You learn to listen to your thoughts, to be aware of your urges to do something else, to plan and set goals. You learn to watch yourself, but to just sit still and not act on those urges. You learn to be content with stillness.

You learn to savor the quiet. It’s something most of us don’t have, quiet, and it takes some getting used to. When we’re driving our cars or out exercising or eating or working, we have music playing or we talk with people or we have the television on. Quiet can be amazing, though, because it helps us calm down, contemplate, slow down to savor the emptiness.

An empty room, too, is a luxury. I try to empty my room of clutter, so that it’s fairly bare. That leaves only me, and the room is a blank slate ready to be filled with me, my creativity, my silence. I love a spartan room.
Being alone is another pleasure we too often neglect. When we are alone, we go on the Internet or TV to see what else is going on, what others are doing or saying, instead of just being alone. This isolation is a necessary thing, that allows us to find ourselves, to learn to be content with little instead of always wanting more.

Can you practice being alone, being still, being quiet? Just a little at first, then perhaps a bit more. Listen, watch, learn about yourself. Find contentment. Need nothing more.

Leo Babauta writes at Zen Habits.

Friday, January 6, 2012


Sometimes, just sometimes, do you want to just cancel out everything you know? Everything morsel of knowledge stored in the indents of your mind, do you ever just want to scrape it all out and remain only with what you feel.
Do you ever just want to format your head space and remain with an honest, silly, stupid, happy, crude, sometimes funny, sometimes not, but always true commentary on your life as it goes on? To not think and analyse but to just express sentiments...whether or not they make sense? Whether or not they sound right. To laugh at sentences that you form and spew, without regard for any sensibilities or intelligence? To not care if you seem learned or cultured. To say what you feel, and not what you know. To not have to remember the right answer, or any answer at all.
To be able to speak without always having to think. To be wrong. Or right, depending on how you look at it. To curse and to celebrate whether or not there is logic behind it. To smile when everyone else doesn't know what to smile about and to cry because your soul needs to release, whether or not you know why. To just go. To just be. Inside, out, up and down and all the cross ways in between.
To revert to your own little world, knowing that the people around you that you invite to exist and share in it never judge. Knowing that they bring their own little worlds with them and we stay senseless together for as long as we need to.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

1000 Dresses! For Less Than A 1000 bob!

Alright good people, how's it going?

There's an AWESOME event going down this weekend that I want to share with you. I'm so excited about it I don't even know where to start so I'll just let the event organizer speak for herself. Her name is Imani and the event is called "254 D Word". Dress Sales Mania I tell you!

Here she goes.
"I wanted to extend an invitation to you and your community to "The 254 D Word" Dress Sales Mania. We have over 1000 dresses that we are selling at KSH 800 or less. We want to end the following misconceptions:

1.Good quality fashionable Dresses can only be found at exuberant and ridiculous prices.
2. Good quality fashionable Dresses can only be found on a one off basis; after foraging (very un-attractively we must add), in Toi, Ngara, Gikomba etc for hours and only finding 3 items that fit you.

The 254 D Word Sales Event brings over 1000 dresses (work, casual, club, glamour) under one roof each priced at Ksh 800; Ksh 600; Ksh 500; Ksh 100 (tops).

The Debut sale is scheduled for Friday November 4th – to Sunday November 6th, at the Adams Arcade Shopping Mall Parking Lot from 10am - 6pm daily. Clothes will only be bought when doors open on a first come first serve basis. See pictures of the dresses here.

There will also be an emerging creatives fair. Young upcoming Kenyan designers, designing jewellery, handbags, t-shirts etc.

There will also be a makeup and photogora booth. People can get their makeup professionally done for a small fee by the lovely Tatty, and photography by the lovely Makena. They can get their makeup and professional pictures for a very small fee, and off course Food and Music.

We have a special raffle where the grand prize is a genuine leather Sandstorm bag. To enter, people have to go to the Sand Storm website and guess which bag is going to be raffled off. They can post their comments on our Facebook events page. You can also follow the event on Twitter, @the254DWord. It's going to be epic!!!"


Guys, you don't want to miss it.
Also, please use the following code: PK02, it entitles you to a discount when you shop at the event. YAY!
See you there guys!!!

Oh, and before I go, if you're looking for a chilled, polite evening plan, come through to The Museum TONIGHT for the All That Jazz Fest with the fantastic Aaron Rimbui, Kanjii Mbugua, K.S. Mbugua, Ian Mbugua and myself. Show starts at 8pm. It's gonna be awesome.

Later gaters, have a fantastic weekend.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

DIY: Hair Thingy.....(Ok, almost DIY)

Helloooooo good people!

I hope you are all fine and dandy.

So, one of y'all saw a picture of me wearing a little hair thingy on a post some time back in Dec last year. She liked the said hair thingy, and asked if I could make one for her sometime early this year.

Original Thingy.

I gladly obliged. But, days turned to weeks, weeks to months, time became scarce, she went out of town, I got really busy with a couple of thingy made. But she then got in touch with me a couple of weeks ago...and asked if I could make one ASAP, as she has a wedding to attend this weekend. I said I would.

I decided that since it's for a wedding, I should bling it up a little bit, add some lace and some ribbon to I hit Biashara Street, found my raw materials, and go to work yesterday morning. Now forgive me if I don't get into detail about how exactly the thingy came together, I really don't remember. I usually just figure it out as I go along when I embark on DIYs and hope the projects turn out ok. This is a cool thing though methinks, as that means everything I make is an exclusive masterpiece, right?

So, here goes.

This is everything I was going to need, but I've broken it down below.

I absolutely love this fabric. I bought it last year from a
lady somewhere within Toi Market, 250/- for 6 yards,
 and have used it as my sofa cover,
Blankets And Wine "Blanket",
for other DIYs...I love it!!
This is elastic, and pretty cool for further experiments I have lined up! It was 150/- per metre.

This ribbon has a mesh feel to it, and it's pretty
stiff to the touch. Almost like fine meshed
metal. It was about 150/- per metre as well.
I love these buttons. They are light and came 10
in a pack for I think 100/-

I rustled everything together mindlessly as I finally, FINALLY started on Game Of Thrones, a series I have had for months but was freaked out by after watching the first 10 minutes of episode 1 at 2 in the morning. Nice show.

After about 40 minutes, this is what emerged.

Pretty Swanky, huh?

I added a provision on the back on which to pin a
bobby pin to clip to the hair, or a safety pin
to pin to a jacket or bag.

That's the new thingy right next to the original one. If you notice,
I added a rosette like thing to the old one. That was also a
result of mindless stitching in front of the TV a few months ago.

And so ladies, and maybe gentlemen, this is what became of all my raw materials. You Like?

It was kinda sad watching the lovely reader walking away with it this afternoon. I had grown quite attached to it over the 24 hours we spent together.



Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...