The Voices Of Our Ancestors

QBag, qpoc, Queer, qwoc

Live today…through the vibration of the drum.

All, of our ancestors.” -Voodoo Honey “Elegua” check it out it’s on SoundCloud.

Peace.

So. Im learning that even tho Twitter is so benevolent amd gives me the option to keep adding characters forever and ever ahmen… that don’t mean write a goddamn blog on twitter.com. no. No, Syn. That is the reason amazing sites like WordPress exist, lol. So. I’m gonna do my best to not post long ass shit on Twitter and actually show my blog the love she deserves. Yes, she is a woman. Because duh…women are smarter and superior. The Goddess made it so. Not even a debate.

So. I came here for this:

I’ve never played drums professionally…I’ve probably only played on an actual set of drums…maybe 3 or so times in this life. However. The drum and I…we have an impenetrable bond, I can’t even deny. More so the sound and the vibrations of the drum. I can definitely give thanks to my ancestors from the Ivory coast to the Caribbean for this connection.

I am in pure love with the drum; my ancestors made ours out of goat or sheepskin…& I remember as a kid how my fingers felt the first time I held one. The vibration as I tapped away…it felt as though my hands and my fingertips had done that many times.

& Now as an adult, I can recognize + acknowledge the specific ways that we are always connected to our roots. Give thanks. I always wondered why I was always creating every surface I touched into a drum, lol. I still kinda do. Ok I do…a lot. I can’t help it, & neither would I want to. As they say #veryconnected (got that from The Very Black Project on Instagram) but I love it because it’s so true. No matter how far away i move, what country I wind up in, what city…I’m always and forever connected to my roots and I love that. Hella grateful. Give thanks.

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