slowly surely + xyz : a journey of (re)discovery

I AM. Treading

By InspiredJourney

 

Onward.

The story behind the story of my being in Atlanta: During several of our conversations over the years, Baba had exclaimed they “needed some help” in the shop. So, given my traveling on my quest and transitioning, this was the best time for me to sort a way of going there and doing something, even if just breaking the monotony of the days with some ‘new’ energy.

Forward(?). Maybe.

Day 2: The troupe, including me, made its way to the shop to affect the bottom line positively.

I fell into working my mission of being of assistance. My intent was to unearth a way to benefit them. Brainstorming ideas, I volunteer my willingness to be a body and set of hands to sell in places they wanted to vend, but couldn’t be themselves. Being cognizant of the importance of brand image, and my wanting to respectfully and properly
represent the company, I cite needing a few pieces of gear to stand in as my ‘work’ uniform.

This led to redesigning some of the surplus inventory they had in stock.

Okay.

Ever so and slightly struggling, I’m unraveling threads and thinking of ways to cleverly chop and redesign this flowing cotton skirt into a sundress. Once done removing the decorative threading, I have an idea to use the drawstring to create straps. A sundress with spaghetti-like straps is the plan. Yes, that’s it.

I have no formal knowledge or serious experience with sewing, so I definitely need help with some bits.

That moment came.

I ask Baba something like ‘how do I do X?’, to which he belts out in a notably loud and demanding tone ‘KENYA, HELP HER!’.

[Whoa.] I’m taken aback, and confused.

The only way I could feel and think was ‘I’m asking a simple question, not trying to add to the long list of things she’s obviously responsible for. Sheesh. Nevermind, I’m figure it out’.

I was lightweight shook by this prelude of what was to become.

Shook because the tone was harsh and truly bothered my core. It was later that I could put all my thoughts together and surmise what shook me.

I’ve constantly felt the need to state and affirm I had no intention of creating more work or problems for anyone; much less being a burden in any way.

Internally, I was hoping that she hadn’t felt my presence was more added to her plate.

The moments that followed are a bit hazy. I only really remember getting to a point where we were sifting through bags of remnants when I had the idea to have a go at making purses.

I set up a tiny work-space at the rear of the shop. With all the action, The Girls coming for after school care, a ten month old, and customers, the front of the house was much to ‘stimulating’ an environment for me to focus and catch a rhythm. I mean, given I had no set date of departure, I had to be as productive as possible.

You might not believe, because I still don’t understand, that my positioning in the shop created a bit of a conversation. Who knew I’d be questioned on why I’d seek out a calm and relatively quite space a bit removed from what felt like chaos to me(?). I didn’t, but neither surprised. Again, just living and doing any banal thing comes into question, I find, with people who aren’t secure.

So, yeah, I’m in a corner where the creating began. I didn’t have any grand plans, and allowed each remnant to dictate my direction and the design of each bag.

All was okay for a few hours, and then Baba strolls through.



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