Love Be Telling Lies

Lol. This blog is supposed to be about my art, but apparently I need this outlet yo vent about my feelings and the strangeness of this thing called love. I have been thinking about my “love career” lately. I’VE spent the last few hours in summerization of what went wrong with past lovers. Thank god I’ve finally gotten over the “I wasn’t pretty enough” part: I don’t think that was totally it but I do know I have been seed by men who didn’t see me as quite their “type”. Yeah I’ve been fetishized a time or two.


Naw… I think the fear of being alone drove me. I did get hitched a few times just on the merit of “well he’s the one that asked”. Lol. Not because I cared but because he asked thus it became a “what the hell. Let’s do it” kinda thing. 

But the relationships didn’t last. The grow to love them thing never panned out for me. Resentment was the only thing that grew. The resentment that all the nice talk and seemingly mannerable ways were all to put me in the “trap house”. To try my pussy out and if it’s good, then the rest of me could be tolerated. But we all know that sex isn’t enough; it’s never enough to hold together a life partnership.

You can sense when a man loves you deeply. He will defend you, protect you, talk about future plans that include you, he will want babies with you, he will bring out the best within you.

To spend your entire relationship wondering if you really have a true relationship is not cool. I’ve been in that boat a few times, too many times actually. To be unsure about the one you love just confuses everything else in your life.

I’m torn by life experiences, my emotions, logic and reason. They all fight within me. I can’t say “I want a kiss” without thinking if it will lead to anything, if I’m just wasting my spit on his curiosity, if I’m being coy enough or showing enough interest, asking how long should the kiss be, should I give him tongue on the first try, am.i not making him earn my respect… and that’s from a kiss!

Can you imagine my head trip when I give up the ass!!! Shiiiiiiiit I be having the Palm Readers, Ms Cleo, Tarot Cards, Chakra Healers on speed dial tryna figure out if he love me… sigh…

Geeeze…. Now I know why artist are seen as a little whacky.. I guess we have to be in order to create. Anyway. if you enjoyed our little chat then subcribe and let me know what’s on your mind! Toodles 🙂

Conscious Community: Why I’m Back To Christianity

Moors in Art

I converted to Islam many years ago. I remember the day I took my shahada. I was 18 and nervous and excited to finally decide what I wanted to believe in. My mother thought I had lost my mind, she even brought the paste to our house to “remove the demons from my mind”. I battled him on the authenticity of the bible, asked him to move that God existed and we went back and forth for almost an hour. He left our house wiping sweat from his brow and telling my mom to pray for me.

I felt 10 feet tall that day. I felt like a “real” Muslim! From that day on it seemed like “battling” or challenging Christian beliefs were the new normal for me. Egyptology was part of the journey: emulating “Gods” by adopting titles and replaced the hole that I created when I left biblical beliefs.

But I still felt incomplete, dare I say passion – less as I spent leisure time fact checking history to support my new belief system. The only one that battle or even question my decision was my grandmother. I remember seeing her when I went to Trinidad to visit her that summer. I walked through the veranda and she was sitting on the sofa knitting. She looked up at me and told me to sit next to her.

I hugged and kissed her and she smiled while staring at me. Well it felt more like scanning me actually. She started at me feet and worked her way up to the top of my head. The only thing she said was, ” Yuh Look like yuh eatin, yuh eh missing no meals!” Which meant that she could see I looked healthy and that was all she was concerned about.

I was waiting for the scolding but it never came. But she did say that she told my mother not to make a “poppy show” out of me or my decision to changes faiths because all people will do is laugh behind her back.

My grandmother was and always will be an example of grace,patience, understanding, and unconditional love. And a Christian who lived the principles of what she believed on a daily basis. At this point in my life, it’s important that embrace the power I experienced by knowing her, by being cared for by her and matter of fact way she lived her life through a clear right and wrong path.

So I will read psalms and the other verses she told me to read that will strengthen me, not because of accuracy of information but the emotional magic that will activate inside me because we share the same blood DNA. I want her resolve, I want her mental state. She was never confused or doubted her abilities and I know was because if her faith in God…

Grandma, I’m coming back home….

You Not Gonna Waste My Time!

african art

The unpleasant side of being an artist is having to deal with all the flakes and foolery from folks who pretend that they are interested in buying. I used to entertain conversations with anyone who made a statement about my work, especially on social media. But these days I have very guarded with my time and the emotional conversation pertaining to my art.


I had to deal with a very combative troll a few weeks ago asking me why I don’t paint boys in my art. I simply said “Because I do what I want to do!” But he kept igging me on, trying to figure out if I’m some closet feminist man hater. I assumed because I didn’t have any pictures up with men. (I’ve never paraded my relationships on social media and I never will.) But I got hot about this because as an artist, I don’t have to ‘answer’ to anyone about why I do what I do. I never heard anyone ask an artist who only paints animals why they don’t paint people or artists who paint nature scenes why they don’t paint skyscrapers!!

And its always these mother suckers that what to make ‘suggestions’ about what you should add to your body of work: but if you added it for their sake, they still wouldn’t or probably could afford to buy from you. They are energy drainers indeed and I immediately put the brakes on when I see them. Everyone who ‘likes’ your work is NOT your market. And I had to learn that the hard way.


OMG! that conversation took all the restraint I had left and there wasn’t much to begin with. I told this girl the price of an original art piece and she goes into a whole dialog about being a young mother, not a corporate CEO and she wanted the painting for her daughter. Then she continues by asking about my pricing structure. I told her that I offered her the option of buying a print which was more within range of what she could afford, I even offered a payment plan for the original! And she was still yapping about pricing.

I politely told her that I don’t based my price or alter it because someone has a low paying job, or unemployed, or plan to give to their 1 year old daughter… That has nothing to do with me. By the end of the conversation, what she wanted was to license the art piece and she thought by buying the original that it gave her the right to reproduce it!! WTF!!! LOL SHe came back a few minutes later with the “My boyfriend said I was wrong and owed you an apology”.. Uh Yeah Whatever.

Needless to say, I had to fall back.. I mean waaaaay back from all the noise. I don’t allow people to gets minutes of my time when it starts with me having to alter anything. I see people try to play the emotional game and I guess that works for some, but I am very clear on the ‘why’ of my art business. Im not conflicted at all about the value I bring to the world…

~Salkis Re

If your an artist, tell me your experiences with the public and how you handle it! And subscribe so you don’t miss out!



New Beginnings or New Being: Both

Freeform locs

I’ve had to do some deep soul searching lately. To uncover the hidden things within my heart. I think opening up is a way to release the pressure that comes from being ‘private’ which is just another word for ‘hiding’. I think a lot of it is just fear that you can be easily made into a puppet, but I came to the conclusion that every institution from universities to jobs use us as puppets anyway. It just doesn’t feel as bad cause you can save for a vacation and maybe qualify for government aid in the form of more debt like student loans etc.

So I decided to revisit my ego and all the built up protection I’ve accumulated over the years and released that I made bad decisions out of the fear and shame that comes with hiding. The prison from having to cover a lie with another lie was making it hard for my heart to soar. And all the people that I admired and looked up to were always very candid about their lives:it was like they were telling a story about someone else, that’s how detached they were from all of it.

I’m a creative person, a passionate person, intuitive through and through but trauma of hurt and disappointment made me question all those attributes about me:until now.
So I will express my life and my thoughts in an artful way.

Lay Your Head on My Pillow

freeform locs

Im sitting by my window listening to Al Green song “For the Good Times”… And I could feel the sweet pain in the words. “Make Believe you love me”, he sings… How many of us would rather make believe we are loved just to have the closeness, that pleasure of a skilled lover. I’ve even been told to just ‘Enjoy the Moment”. But they never tell you that you’re on your own when you get up from the bed… SO many of us make deals with the devil. Promising to tend to the logic of the situation after the last thrust of a throbbing penis pounding our slippery walls.

You know you have to wake up to the reality of what this thang is, but your ego tells your vagina that it’s sugary goodness could change your fate. So many of us get caught up and crossed wires thinking that sexual chemistry equates to some sort of cosmic bond. A good dick can confuse you for sure. But its the hours on your feet, with your panties still attached that let you know what real.

When a person is not in ecstasy  but still takes your hand and rocks you slow. When he calls to check if you made it home and talks about future plans with you then you know its not just that you can make him cum hard or that he hits your spot. Sometimes someone could fuck the shit out of you as a way of ‘trying’ to forget someone else. Sometimes your snatch is being slam ducked because you were the only one that answered your damn phone at 1 a.m.

Sex can be therapy indeed, but I’m not partial to being choochie medication for a man. I don’t want to be a cum dumpster for stress and strain of life. I want a happy man on top of me every time. I want my pussy to be a celebration of good fortune and love. I think that is why don’t think recent sex brings people closer together.

~Salkis Re


A Dark skin Girl Dating Blues

I was a teen in the 80’s and 90’s and it was hard getting a guy to like you if you were a dark girl back then . I remember begging my friends to talk to their boyfriends to see if they could convince one if them to come to talk to me. That was the aim; I just wanted to be seen walking with a guy and then maybe I would stop feeling like I had two heads.

I’d sit in my friends bedroom while she called her boyfriend up and ask him about this guy or that who she thought would be nice for me to date. It was obvious what was being asked on t he other end cause my friend would say “Well yeah she is dark skin but she is pretty! No! No! I serious! She is pretty. I bite my nails and pace the floor hoping to pass the preliminary interview my friend conducted on my behalf.

I’d be humiliated every time but it was more embracing being the only one among the crew that never had a valentine chocolate or some door knocker earrings as birthday gift.i was the sarcastic sidekick that held everybody coat and purses when they were busy getting their foreplay on.

The dates I managed to get all treated me exactly like what I was: a charity case. What made matters worse was that I refused to have sex. I don’t think the choice to abstain was always moral; I was fucking scared and I didn’t want to be hurt. Even with all my desperation back then, somehow I always knew that having sex with those dudes would be the last nail in the coffin. After all, I had to keep what dignity I had left…

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The First Time I Had Sex

African Artist

Gosh… I remember it like yesterday. I was 18, naive, low self esteem and scared to death. There was a lot of grunting and pushing and quite a bit of pain. I remember laying there not understanding why I wasn’t feeling good. I kept hoping that it would start feeling like ecstasy I heard so much about. Blood on the bed confirmed my status as my man got up and looked at the bed and me and said “Oh! Your were a virgin for real?”

I was devastated, ashamed, and confused. What do I do now?, I thought. It seems like forever just to finish zipping up my paints. My shame quickly turned to anger though. Not only did he think I was lying about being a virgin, he was insensitive to boot. “Did you cum?, he asked anxiously. Like I knew what the fuck that was. I lied. “Yeah I came twice!”, I said.He smiled and gave me cab money to go home.

I thought about it the whole ride home. I gave up my jewels for this shit!! All my friends got at least 4 years of fucking under their belt and I waited for this? I should have fucked Buster when I had the chance. I used to cut school and go to his apartment in the projects. He would dry hump me for hours cause I refused to take off my pants, He would even cum too,lol That was crazy how I could make him cum fully dressed.. Sigh…
I’d give anything to have my first time back again..I think I deserve a do-over…

I’ve been chasing that do-over ever since…

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