Oh Sister my Sister
"No one is ever going to want you all the time. You have to want yourself" - Frieda LoveJoy [this is so real. Celie had to learn it. We ALL have to learn it]
The movie Sister, Sister (1982) Staring: Diahann Carrol, Irene Cara, Rosalind Cash, is in fact BIBLICAL.
I might have been born in the wrong decade. Rosalind Cash and that Afro are straight up testifying to me. Irene Cara's posture can do no wrong. Diahann Carroll's face was sculpted by the same person who worked on Adonis. No. Lie.
Sister,Sister is just LIFE. The movie makes me pretty much want to go back to the 70's live a hard ass life and come back to this era as a Chicago fried version of Mama Odie. This movie deals with the burdens of the dead, loyalty to false images, hopes, dreams, broken promises, human flaws, humanity, potential, and the way we are both helped and held back by family. It is just so beautiful and real and it is of course written by Maya Angelou. And whatever, I'm not going to hell for pointing out the visual similarities between Maya and Mama Odie. IT'S THERE DAMNIT. IT. IS. THERE.
MOVING ON. . .to the devotional part of this here blog. Dear Jesus, The Buddha, Vishu, and all Slave Mothers who died during the middle passage. Thank you for Dr. Maya Angelou. She brought me Sunday morning in this movie.
There were no-good men, no-good fathers, righteous men, do right gangsters and gray colored preachers doing the right things the wrong way. There were flawed mothers, martyred matrons, divorced headstrong women who drank too much, and little boys trying too hard to be men. Lord PREACH.
And if Diahann Carroll's beauty and acting doesn't just make you want to pour out some Chardonnay in honor of the potential for utter fabulousness held in your very own ovaries then you are missing some links.
She is the very ESSENCE of class and grace.
Everything about her makes me want to learn what all the forks and spoons at the dinner table are used for. Even when she engages in a FIERCE cat fight with Rosaline Cash near the end of the movie you think . . .oh these bitches are FIGHT-TING but I bet they don't break not one nail. And they don't. ** sips tea** ** genuflects to the classes bitches ** Diahann represents black style above and beyond what blacks were told they could. During the 70's black people were just discovering their aesthetic place in Hollywood. Diahann went ahead and set that bar to 10 and dared you regular fools to follow. She is black and killing it ALL day long. When she shows up to an event she brings her own undertaker to clean up average bitches she has left in her footsteps. She just parts the green sea of jealous lesser women with a toss of her hair and a downward look of her perfect cheeck bones. Quite frankly she's made from the best stuff on earth.
Am I exaggerating? No. She's a bad bitch. I worship at her make-up table and I respect her shoe closet. If I could touch the hem of one of her Hermes scarves I bet my Lupus could be cured.
Sister,Sister is just LIFE. The movie makes me pretty much want to go back to the 70's live a hard ass life and come back to this era as a Chicago fried version of Mama Odie. This movie deals with the burdens of the dead, loyalty to false images, hopes, dreams, broken promises, human flaws, humanity, potential, and the way we are both helped and held back by family. It is just so beautiful and real and it is of course written by Maya Angelou. And whatever, I'm not going to hell for pointing out the visual similarities between Maya and Mama Odie. IT'S THERE DAMNIT. IT. IS. THERE.MOVING ON. . .to the devotional part of this here blog. Dear Jesus, The Buddha, Vishu, and all Slave Mothers who died during the middle passage. Thank you for Dr. Maya Angelou. She brought me Sunday morning in this movie.
There were no-good men, no-good fathers, righteous men, do right gangsters and gray colored preachers doing the right things the wrong way. There were flawed mothers, martyred matrons, divorced headstrong women who drank too much, and little boys trying too hard to be men. Lord PREACH.
And if Diahann Carroll's beauty and acting doesn't just make you want to pour out some Chardonnay in honor of the potential for utter fabulousness held in your very own ovaries then you are missing some links.
She is the very ESSENCE of class and grace.
Everything about her makes me want to learn what all the forks and spoons at the dinner table are used for. Even when she engages in a FIERCE cat fight with Rosaline Cash near the end of the movie you think . . .oh these bitches are FIGHT-TING but I bet they don't break not one nail. And they don't. ** sips tea** ** genuflects to the classes bitches ** Diahann represents black style above and beyond what blacks were told they could. During the 70's black people were just discovering their aesthetic place in Hollywood. Diahann went ahead and set that bar to 10 and dared you regular fools to follow. She is black and killing it ALL day long. When she shows up to an event she brings her own undertaker to clean up average bitches she has left in her footsteps. She just parts the green sea of jealous lesser women with a toss of her hair and a downward look of her perfect cheeck bones. Quite frankly she's made from the best stuff on earth.
Am I exaggerating? No. She's a bad bitch. I worship at her make-up table and I respect her shoe closet. If I could touch the hem of one of her Hermes scarves I bet my Lupus could be cured.
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