Restitution. by Angel Brynner AOLAB 27JULY2014

One of my best friends in life died 10 days ago. Past tense and -she didn’t know this- present tense too.

Now… I have been working on my heart a very long time with God, and I truly feel he sent her to me one more time to help heal aspects I could not have done alone. Her way of  simply and sincerely being once we were back in contact gave me wind under my wings that I hadn’t even known I’d needed. But her death? Her death rang loudly into the far reaches of my life and changed everything. There were walls-ruins still up from wars long won and almost forgotten about- that I had healed within. Places I witnessed God going all beauty for ashes with me in regards…but that I had still never left emotionally in a strange way. I kept it moving, I went forth and Got on with the race he had for my life…but in a weird way, I peered out at all of it  through the veil of dust still in the air due to battles.

But when she died, she opened this door…and it led to me finding out I was loved more than I ever could have imagined even beyond what she had surprised me with, and that love was 21 years deep. It also led to me finding out that love getting to me was consciously blocked…for decades without my knowing as others smiled in my face as i soldiered on. And it finally revealed the hatred i had never known was at the root of a bizarre, once confusing  dissolution that had happened many years ago in life.

But none of this hurt me. Yes… Forgiveness is key. We all know that by now. We all even do it a lot better than we could before. But sometimes God makes sure that the forgiveness you’ve been working on is strong before he reveals to you the monster you never had a clue you had been up against that he had slain for you. It’s like He shored me up with true love to make sure I’d be alright  witnessing the hate that had been cloaked beside me all along that I had been utterly oblivious to. So my joy over the actual love would be full. Heather made sure she showed me real love before she left so that I would know what the other was next time, and made sure i’d not be moved by another’s hate that had grown up alongside us. She reminded me of love and put my armor on tight, armed to  stand in the fight that I know well as a 12yr old Christian now…but had never grasped was coming for me even 15years ago, prior to being officially pursued by Christ. I had accepted another’s cruelty to me as inexplicable after 20yrs of love for 15 more. Yesterday I was blessed with the inexplicable being explained. She simply consciously came from hate because that was who I had not understood she had become. I never knew from her own mouth she simply hated me & THAT was her why for what she did. & it  was like “Oh! wow lol…NOW it makes sense. Thanks for that.”

People do things…and because you think these people are coming from love, its confusing and hurtful.

But when real love shows up…even in its wake as it is heading out the door…you look everywhere with stronger eyes…and the confusion lifts…and you find yourself okay accepting they were coming from hate instead without it hurting at all. You see who they are and “get it…” and  the hurt is gone because you accept what you’ve been given the gift to see them for who they may have been the entire time…and peace is made with it. The dance is done.

You look around and the ruins are  gone… and you’re in this garden that is up to you to tend to, to do right by…and you get to choose the mulch you are going to nurture your crops with from there on out.


100 BOOKS inside~ an interim 2nd trilogy goal FINALLY reached. AOLAB 25JULY2014.

So… y’all remember this: ????

Well…we officially have proof that I DO indeed live on another planet and it is a glorious one, where The sun is really green but we see it as yellow and  everything is really upside-down but we see it right-side up or some other ocular inversion whachamacalits…

But the truest definer of a different set of space residing within said planetary orb is the fact that Here[ on my planet] 100 days is the equivalent of about 415 days on this here lovely celestial abode we call Earth.

It has its perks… less wrinkles, pert T&A for longer-the gravity is different- everything seems well suited to lankiness around here…even fat on this planet seems to technically still be considered skinny-You get drunker faster here, so its cheaper and not as fun-

But the only aspect of import on this day-July 25th, 2014- is that I have finally completed my 100 bookdevouring research readathon for the love of Jesus how is this taking so long??!” challenge.

315 days after the fact? True…but that’s only on your puny human planet{Avengers*}.


On my planet what stands out is the reality that if I WAS on Earth most of the time,  it would mean I ingested a book every 4.15 days. Though not what my evil genius, bookish -700 books in a summer-inner child was aiming for, it suits my 38 year old, eating, drinking, traveling, omg I have a life & its based in New Orleans ass  just fine. In all seriousness though… What this means research-wise is that there are 28 books standing already half devoured that need to be finished and 160 books I have not even touched yet.

I do not have as much time to get the next set of research into the mainframe..because the books are being left here for the most part. The brunt of them will remain as a library onsite for the Haus gypsies Hotel California-ing alongside me after I bust out…both because God said you are not moving all these books back with you, and because every Gypsy needs an oasis stocked to the gills with good books somewhere along the road. And too, my inner child is geeked over the idea of donating a library lol.

100 in, at peace, at my leisure has been kind of cool. The greatest gift given in a series of blessings from above. I KNOW many artists these days would kill to be given the time I’ve been given to DO this correctly, and my gratitude for that time & those who have obeyed God and facilitated my living rather bohemian- like during it runs deep. The spirit of New Orleans is good to those with art in their blood and God knows I am grateful for the good looking out.

And the way the influx of information has connected dots I hadn’t even realized would be a boon to the arc of the entire series blows my mind. Between the reading & travel this spring novel number four is 20 chapters deep so far, with her two siblings chomping at the bit. & I’m trying to discern will God be sending me back to the place I just found out I call home internally, back to Mexico or returning me to apples I’d sworn to only see again if certain other sexy motherfuckers were also being sent back to homestead. Kinda cool place to be, at least for me. Artistically speaking.

God is good.







If any of your friends pop up on your heart out of nowhere, let them know you love them. I just found out that one of my best friends since 1st grade- who tracked me down again last year so as to reconnect- passed away this morning.

She literally floated up in my mind yesterday and made me laugh by flashing Tommy Lee from Motley Crue … she’s the only other person on earth who would not be surprised if I turned up married to him one day…because I used to have my dad drive me from the east side of Cleveland to the edge of the west side of Cleveland…to hang out in her room…whose purple walls were covered to the ceiling with pics of Motley Crue and Poison and Duran Duran [Tommy lee, Ricky Rocket & Mr.Taylor, thank you very much!].  She was one of my strongest sanctuaries for eight formative years of my life…the high priestess of the one that to this day means the most musically to me: Rock.

& last year she kicked down all the doors I’d put up against mostly everybody in the 25yrs since the last time we’d seen each other due to dumb shit out in the world, popped me in the back of the head & reminded what real friendship was…and that She could still see who I was as a person and friend, no matter how stupidly or hurtfully others responded to me. God so healed me with her this year, and I thank him for her again and again, and am so grateful I got the chance to be loved by her brainy, wild genius butt for the second time around before she went home to the God it turned out we both believed in when we met back up.

Out of all my friends growing up, her Dad was the only one I’d ever even think of calling Dad, her sisters were the big sisters I never got to have because I was the oldest girl- And she’s already pulled a miracle from above because when I called to tell my Dad she died, it led to him opening up with me in a way he never has before, so high-five, Heather.
& I speak in present tense because I KNOW in my head and in my heart where you just high-tailed it to, and I cant wait to see what you do with the new digs[mansion] God just gave you the keys to.

heather micki and vicki



I grew up in the Cleveland Museum of Art. Literally. First place they put me so as to  not draw on walls had walls chock full of all kinds of stuff I slowly but surely wrapped my entire being around over the years. But it wasn’t until third grade that it became official. And I owe it ALL-WAIT-I owe it all to GOD…but getting all Paul planted, Apollos watered about the whole thing, only one man on this earth gets the prize of turning my little creative ass out and that is due to the image on the front of his liner notes. The[unexaggerated] Lore of Angel[no surname necessary at this point] includes a daddy DJ who let no one else but his arty daughter touch his records, finding that image protecting vinyl, a pair of scissors, the sliced open plastic of the front panel of a trapper keeper and a vaguely remembered confiscation or something.

🙂 I’m gonna be an ARTIST.

[aka buck naked painting allatime~damn near showing maaaah a******! artistically in whatever medium I fackin feel like!]

When he was in NOLA last week for Essence Fest… I almost went. THAT tells you reams of stuff I am not going to say.  I’m not a lemur for much, lone wolfin’ it like a motherfact… But the Prince gang is one that I entered long ago and have Never tried to get out of. it’s deep. I mean… not only is he the only man my guardian angels had to tie me up so as to not let me run away to paisley park as a kid…the brunt of them took on the bone structure of his crew in my mind’s eye. I see other lands and realms through eyes God let his little ass brazenly open when I was a wee one. There is not a man who has known these lands who wasn’t bowing at the altar of Prince. & that’s said globally speaking, across Languages. That’s said using his tracks to communicate with lovers whose languages I didn’t know yet. Madness, pure heady madness, all my wilding out way back when due to seeds planted by him[ & Madonna] lol.

And not only that… out of All these damn musical nuts that have drawn all sorts of shall we say extravagances  and flourishes from me[ all visibly as tattooed by him as I somewhat secretly was, btw and it’s not like its that many!]…when I finally DID meet HIM?Prince is the only one who didn’t lose his flipping words. Prince is the only creative man I have EVER met on this planet who not only is not oddly scared of my Amazonian ass in bewildered way… HE started vocally shutting folks down who were flipping over what I was saying So I could clearly and loudly say it. He already had me from 8…but when he shut down a room full of presidents, other musicians and executives, all “LET HER TALK!” …in a room I was only even in  on a technicality[ read:nyc loophole]…it moved so beyond “ride or die” that it’s like beyond the 7th House mess up in here towards that man.  He’s the only man I’ve ever SEEN stand 100% up for me. Full on. The ONLY one. Artistically or otherwise.

Which could kinda suck, but maybe it’s a Highlander thing lol. Maybe for a chick like me there can only be one lolol. And that ONE dude who is Gonna DO that shit and do it HARD as a motherfuck…being PRINCE ROGERS FN NELSON… is not a bad card to draw. Especially with my mouthy ass. You really don’t need anyone else after that lol. And I doubt I was thunderstruck by meeting ANYBODY else but Jesus ever since then.

Long ago he gave me a concept of an expanded family when my nuclear one was going radioactive through his music, videos… and of course…Movies.

[yes, I said plural. don’t hate lol.] But before getting all happy weepy-

this is all coming forth due to One of those movies in particular…That literally changed MY life…and is the reason everyone born between 85 and 86 needs to kiss that man’s rings like he is the pope… because PURPLE RAIN turned out Everybody on the planet.


wHOA. I mean- like- Wow. Things change…but of all the stuff that fell away… I still am most happiest in much less than mah draws drawing and painting like there are waves of dry ice curling round my toes in a purple room.

These shots are works in progress OF ME STILL UNABASHEDLY dancing in the nakedity I once  pointed to his ass as proof of it being totally okay to be like… when they were trying to force me to put some damn pants on and stop drawing on myself..

Tossing ganglands, yall. Happy Birthday, Purple Rain. Still… I would DIE 4U.




Yeah… so…

Inner-child  & I have been having a hard time conceptualizing salads this year. If we get them  out somewhere there’s this inner conversation of “See? all we’d have to do is Get all that stuff and then we can do that at home.” But seven months into 2014 I think I’ve made two at home & they kinda sucked. I mean Borrrrring.

And since I rarely do boring with my food…they just weren’t happening [food is fuel, my ass! Food is a glorious sensory experience given to us to relish by God! see?! Relish! just don’t be a dick about it lol].

Now…I’m not talking about  labeling the deranged Americana idea of salad with all the mayo and yada yada- as healthy…but  those we got down. I did just post something about a shrimp & quail egg salad that lit my heart on fire…and a potato salad…and I keep eyefucking lobster at the market because I so wanna try to make lobster rolls this summer…even though I’m not all ga-ga over lobster in the first place. It’s probably horrifying for it to register “she’s desiring lobster to…make lobster rolls” instead of some swanky what have you, but a life lived is a lived life.

But after focusing so hard on learning what and how to juice correctly…who knew those juicing eggplant are kind of trying to kill you? [Nightshade, baby~] i sort of blanked out on the whole eating vs drinking vegetables. But months in,as is the norm with any cult[food or otherwise] you come across that are you in or out? gangland item &… inner child put her foot down. All of a sudden, everyone was championing  some mess about “you should chew your juice” …and THAT was it. She just tapped out.

“I’m done-I’m not gonna Stand here..with your~i’m just gonna say it…health-nutty butt[*gasp*]..Chewing Juice… these people are- If we’re CHEWING, we’re chewing food!dang nabbit!! Fiddlesticks!”

ok, it wasn’t that bad. But there was a period of going for the juicer and suddenly finding myself in other things, it collecting dust. Baby was NOT having it. So I got a replacement blender-I’d donated my 1st to the shack in ELH I went to write in for any margarita making madness that should hit it in my wake. Logic:My South Beach Summer cold soups when it’s so hot it doesn’t even matter the Ocean is our front yard. Plus I can put cilantro & spinach in a smoothie and be like bam!*(And anyone who has tried juicing spinach knows the  reason why it rarely showed up in my ether mixes. It’s kind of a dick to juice).

But I’d given up on the whole salad thing. Some things I’m just gonna be like “fuck it, its not that deep” about, and salads sat squarely in  that territory. I may have been born under the sign of the hare but mama didn’t raise no rabbit nibble chick in the first place, especially one to be mewing about “if only I could..sniff*… find a way…to- eat a bowl of…leaves. Only…Then everything’d be ok.”

Nah. I’ve been in this mess for too long. I know that Many flipping smoothies and salads have more calories than a big mac value meal, especially when done super-sized the American way. Whether I believe in the concept of calories as the devil is not even the point in that one[I don’t btw .not exactly]. All my life I’ve watched cholas getting fat off eating nothing but salads and cottage cheese. And I see the “salads” 9.99 a pound you can build at grocery stores everywhere now. Sometimes they may as well go get a medium pizza because it’s gonna do the same thing when they sit down. It’s just a bowl of kool-aid I have no illusions about.

…so… a lot of somewhat whiny and petulant factors working into the aforementioned absence of said item on the menu. Too much crazy space for Boring food, which I don’t do[spiritual health is as important as physical to me], oversized portions[ “But its a salad!” “it’s a Two Pound salad!” “You killed Bambi! You monster!” “& he is delicious! numnumnum~”]… ah, and the piece de resistance…presentation.  I like my food to have a little “alright now~!” Make me Want to eat or get to the bottom of you, you know? Systematic mystery. None of this “hock it all into a bowl” mess. Give me Artistry, give me Interest, Curiosity~ make it an event!

I thought that salads had given up the ghost with all this working against them. And then I saw something that…was like a Morpheus-esque splinter in my brain.. that refused to be ignored.

It wouldn’t let me go. I was already using diff sized mason jars for the soups and what-not, but this idea- this- this was pure madness! Madness, I tell ya-

I’d be looking up something else & wham, it’d hit me again, different angle. I fought as it complained that in a mason jar it’d be the perfect size, knocking out that portion control complaint- “only so much is gonna fit into a sane-sized mason jar~.”

People were doing madcap beautiful things with this- I mean incendiary mosh-pit variations- it- Kicked the aesthetic whimmering door off its hinges, blaming me for the boredom I’d yoked the concept of salads with. It was really mouthy. “Look at it! Loooookatit! Food porn, everywhere, beckoning…”this is our time~! you can DO this~like Lovin, you can make salads…fun~!”

I fought until I couldn’t fight anymore, then I succumbed.

“Ok-eventually I will try this.”

Now…anyone who Knows me…knows that as soon as I throw eventually into some shit….technically it don’t even have to go down this lifetime if I dont feel like it. Loophole extraordinaire! My “aight-!!But back up off me,tho” move.

(let’s me know that this salad thing was deep-seated that it even Got to that lol, but still.)

Che Salad stood down, I caught my breath, grinned a bit cheekily…

And after my first interval run in the NOLA summer sun[trust me, that’s Huge- ok, it was Small…bursts…that became a game of run to the next set of shade, but it worked] I came home via grocery store, winning against all Kinds of temptation, saw I had a jar of carrot soup left and the empty jar from the pea soup just grinning bashfully at me.

I said “why not?”

And IT… turned out divine.

I did it absently in direct opposition to the post. Piled in cilantro, then spinach, then black olives, romano cheese, caviar, a  bit of the chorizo potato chilled salad, garlic cloves,buckwheat honey, balsamic, sesame seeds and oil. then put one of the Spanish tortilla tortes at the top of the pile, sealed it, shook it and done.

Maybe my favorite part was the whole “I’m not even putting this into a bowl, I’m going to eat this salad straight from the jar!” “technically Not badass, but still” thing.

welp. That’s the fastest eventually that’s ever gone down with me. And that lil shaker in the back? That was dessert.

I’ve come onto the cold-brew coffee train,full-force. At home, anyway. Better than sun tea. Let it sit out 10-24 hrs, until long after the espresso sinks, drain the grounds from it, pour it into its temporary home, add honey while it’s still hot/room temp[which is 95 degrees in lovely New Orleans today 🙂 ], then stick it in the fridge. mellow yet potent cold coffee you don’t have to water down w/ice cubes…unless you want to.






I’m already a bit absently ridic when it comes to circulation, exfoliation and what-not. Those scrub gloves? Since I first got intro’d to them, there has always been a pair in the kit that takes care of me. Another thing I got introduced to a long time ago and that I keep up lazily is dry-brushing. But the General Patton of the AOLAB summer arsenal[ a seasonal Homemade body-scrub]  had been needling to make it for a while.

I have tried so many store-bought scrubs that your head would spin, but again and again, I come back to the tried, true and pure to do, riffing as I go. I finally succumbed to the splicing this evening…and am still luxuriating in the aftermath of this latest mix as chill-out lounge India meets Dubai undulates in the candle-lit and incense scented air around me.

I spent my day off reading, doing laundry like we often do.  After polishing off the last  Medjool date I’d gotten for something I never made I had this perfectly sized container stare back at me every time I went into my cupboard, like the weight of the universe was bemoaning to just “mix, already!” So I did.

SUMMER 2O14 AOLAB SCRUB a bit of white sugar, 7/8ths of the container full of regular table salt, 1/8 kosher salt[I may punch it up with the last of my Himalayan salt hiding out up here], and heavy sesame oil, plus buckwheat honey.

I have used many kinds of salt in the past, but the table salt base has to do with a draw towards the added iodine,  which sea salts don’t have and which my body craves from time to time. The other salts can be added to layer their mysteries into the mix. The lower sugar/ high salt combo gives a moisturizing slip without countering all the imminent detoxing afoot. In the winter I’m much heavier handed on the sugar in the ratio. & the clash between the true sesame cold-pressed oil and the earthy sweetness of the organic buckwheat  honey has me dragging my hands absently across my scented skin, pores devouring it.

This week  I’ve come out of my devic African black soap phase into this amazing cedar soap that just gives this soft, deep desirous  plume of scent to my skin. I was Loving it, “may become a standard” style. But added to the aftermath of the scrub, oh my Word!


Good day off.