This blog entry is completely and in all of its essence inspired by the image attached to it. I saw this image in a group that I am a part of that celebrates and communicates black female thoughts, happinesses and irritations. This image is of a group of woman native to the Indian Andaman islands. Before I saw this pictures, and before my heart stopped, I did not even know that there was a place called Andaman or that women could look so calm, comfortable and beautiful while catching fish.
This blog entry is a brain fart in all of its glory. Here I will ramble my mad ramblings and let your climb and slide through my mind and the tunnels that create themselves in it. On seeing this picture, I devoured first the skin tones, then the brilliant contrasts between the purple-black, the grey-yellow and the blue-blue and green-blue. This image is a drug trip if ever there was one.
I don’t know the story behind this image, but it made me think about my skin, my place of birth and the people who I come from. All of these things are still a mystery to me. The women in the picture have such incredible skin tones. I was transfixed, am transfixed. I am yet to find out what my skin tone is.
Do you know your skin?
I discovered, whilst in Zambia last year, that my skin can shine all shades of magic that I had not yet seen. I was born and have lived all my life in South Africa, more accurately Cape Town, the sun is soft here, we are spoilt and well looked after here. I have never toyed with the sun, I have never let it lick me all year, letting it bake me, taste me, letting it prepare me and serve me in all of my glory.
I do not know the hue of my skin. I do not know the colour of my dark, or my black. I do not know how strong my melanin truly is. Do you?
Have you been given the chance to know your skin, truly know your skin?
What is your shade?
Those lighter and darker than me, those whiter and blacker than me, those whose tones are delicious caramel, desert sand golden-yellow, the snow whites and the white smiles in the night. Have you spent time with your skin.
Do you know your melanin?
In winter I fade to the hue of a new born Xhosa. As the sun begins again to love and stroke me, I transform to the hue of an indoor dwelling Congolese. The sun is gentle on me here in Cape Town. I want to know my very own shade of brown. Will this chocolate brown grow into a molasses purple?
Most people are aware of their undertones, this helps to guide you. Most people also know their heritage and this helps to place you and make you aware of what kind of sun your skin was meant to live in. My undertone changes, sometimes yellow, other times red. It’s all a mystery waiting to be made clear to me.
This image has inspired me. My journey of discovery begins now. Where, when and how, I don’t know. Some how I will learn the measure of my dark skin pleasure and know the true extent of my darkness and learn how to live it, look after it and recognise it.
Skin, the thing we live in. So often ignored, not often enough adored. Know yours.