![]() Further, the paper acknowledges the enduring tensions in navigating grief and aspires to highlight the power of embodied memory work to illuminate the current and (re)membered geographies of grieving Black girlhoods. Utilizing Sista circle methodology (Johnson, 2015) and extending duoethnography (Sawyer & Norris, 2013) within embodied memory work (Dillard, 2000 Ohito, 2020) and storytelling (Evans-Winters, 2019), this paper extends the future possibilities of grief scholarship centering grieving Black girlhoods. I propose a strong Black girl schema (Brown, 2021) to trouble the erasure of lived experience evident in pervasive cultural discourses like strong Black woman schema (Beauboeuf-Lafontant, 2009). Black women and girls have historically had to overcome–or mask–insurmountable losses at intersections of identity, to ensure Black survival (Collins, 2000 Evans-Winters, 2019). Amidst some of the most unfathomable grief, we, daughters of the dust, are often expected to move forward as quickly as possible (Beauboeuf-Lafontant, 2009 Romero, 2000). I’m setting off, but not without my muse.In the legacy of Black womanhood, surviving the loss of a loved one is etched into our blood memory. Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry. I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you. Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die. A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground With no one around to tweet it While I bathe in cliffside pools With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief. In todays episode, Christina Rasmussen bravely and vulnerably shares her own experience moving through the seemingly insurmountable grief that changed the. ’Cause I haven't moved in years And I want you right here. ![]() I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet. Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry/ I’m setting off, but not without my muse. I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you. Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die. I’ve come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze Tell me what are my words worth. What should be over burrowed under my skin In heart-stopping waves of hurt. I’m setting off, but not without my muse. Is it romantic how all of my elegies eulogize me? I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones These hunters with cell phones. You can check out every lyric to “The Lakes,” below: I guess it’s true what they say, every rose definitely has its thorns. “I’ve come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze tell me what are my words worth,” Swift writes in the second verse. ![]() Some days are harder than others, Im sure. It seems Swift took a big swipe at Scooter Braun, the music exec she accused of purchasing her music catalog (up to Lover) without her approval in 2019. On (blanks birthday), I like to think of them (insert the favorite activity of the person who passed). in cliffside pools With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong. ![]() However, despite the loving-if macabre-nature of most of the lyrics, Swift’s new song does have some bite. It’s hardly a stretch-some fans are even under the impression that Alwyn cowrote two of the songs on Folklore. If this theory is true, Swift refers to Alwyn as her “muse” and her “beloved” multiple times in “The Lakes,” which is super sweet. “All my flowers grew back as thorns, windows boarded up after the storm, he built a fire just to keep me warm,” Swift wrote in the 2017 song “Call It What You Want.” That argument becomes even more compelling when you compare the lyric to another Swift song thought to be about the British actor. If you think about it, Taylor Swift’s relationship with Alwyn could very well be the red rose that grew out of ice frozen ground.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |