‘Thoughts circulating in a lyric or a line’

Once a week I host a writer who uses music as part of their creative environment – perhaps to connect with a character, populate a mysterious place, or hold a moment still to explore its depths. This week my guest is fashion writer, stylist and author Amanya Maloba @Amanya_M

Soundtrack by Erykah Badu, Tyler The Creator, Peter Tosh, Outkast, Shabazz Palaces, Q-Tip, Florence + the Machine

I’m a notorious lone wolf — I spend most of the day alone. I’m also an avid people-watcher and work best surrounded by movement and chaos. How do I reconcile these traits? People repellents, also known as large headphones, large sunglasses, and an unwavering jawline. These allow me the ability to situate myself in bustling environments and maintain my inner solitude and concentration, without the distractions of small talk. This also means that most of my day is characterized by a continuous flow of music, affecting my disposition and writing. Most of the vignettes in my collection, Harvest, were written as direct results of the combination of the thoughts circulating in my mind with a lyric or mood from one of the many songs I listen to. Though Harvest emerged as a unified collection, the music that inspired it is far from cohesive.

Past, present, future

Harvest follows a young girl, Sukari, as she navigates through different spaces and times, learning about herself through her past, present, and future worlds. I wrote many of the pieces while living abroad in London and traveling throughout Europe, so this sense of transience is one that I’m intimate with. Traveling has always brought me comfort knowing that I get to escape from one place and step into the unknown adventures of a new place. Conversely, constant movement generates a certain sense of anxiety, between wondering if my physical self will be safe in the new place, if my soul will be over or under stimulated, and, of course, the dread that arises when your heart longs for someone thousands of miles away and wondering if they feel the same about you. Window Seat by Erykah Badu conveys the simultaneous comfort and anxiety that comes from wanting to escape, and begs the question whether the constant movement comes from a place of bravery or cowardice. I like to think it’s a bit of both, and like Badu’s voice, the prospect of leaving is at once haunting and mystical.

One of my favorite pieces in Harvest, Dinner is Served (Karibu), is also the most honest and unapologetic. My intention was to write it in such a way that, depending on how much you identify with the protagonist, you’ll either feel like someone is preaching your truth or feel uncomfortable in recognising your role as the perpetrator.

I will kill you with every bite you take, but you will continue to eat because I am the finest cuisine you’ve ever had. I will be your last meal. Dinner is served.

Yonkers by Tyler The Creator echoes the same unapologetic declaration of self between the minimalism of the beat and the (arguably) shocking lyrics. Though I don’t co-sign all of the lyrics, the idea of making people who so desperately want to consume you, your aesthetic, and your culture uncomfortable is one that I do support. The beat of Yonkers along with Tyler’s vocal delivery make you want to nod your head and enjoy the song, however this is nearly impossible if you’re actually listening to the lyrics. This is something that I wanted to achieve with Dinner is Served (Karibu), and to some extent, Harvest as a whole. As a writer I feel no obligation to entertain — I’m not here to make anyone feel warm and fuzzy. My job is convey the truth to the best of my ability regardless of whether the reader feels hurt in facing it.

Heaven

Another one of my favorite vignettes is Complaints from Five Guests of Heaven. The piece is comprised of five different complaints from guests staying at the mythical hotel. Each of room numbers corresponds to the assassination dates of radical thinkers and activists that I admire. I chose to have these people issue complaints that are in keeping with the manner in which they were killed or their beliefs to show that though many people admire them posthumously, their theories and legacies are largely still being disrespected, making it impossible for them to rest in peace. Mystic Man by Peter Tosh is a song not only referenced in the piece, but is also applicable to the nature of any truly great person. The notion of being rooted at once in the past, present, and future expresses the fluidity of time and also the power of thinking beyond the constricting notions of time. Even though these people were physically murdered (directly or indirectly) for their philosophies, their words and power are still present, confirming Tosh’s conviction that he’s a man of the future.

Young love

Another theme that runs throughout Harvest is encountering and navigating young love. I’ve never been a fan of corny ballads or depressing love songs, movies, or books — I don’t find the two lovers coming together in the rain cathartic or applicable to any type of love I’ve ever known or witnessed. Prototype by OutKast and A treatease dedicated to The Avian Airess from North East Nubis (1000 questions, 1 answer) by Shabazz Palaces are two love songs that I can fully get behind. Both speak to the nuances of love rather than some grand notion and both manage to be sensual and sexual without falling into the trap of misogyny. Life is Better by my favorite MC, Q-Tip, manages to beautifully blend romantic and artistic love through the lyrics and blur the distinction between musical styles through its production and composition. The way one type of love illuminates another is true in my own experience and is evident in pieces such as Beignets and Trumpets (I): Visitor, where food, music, and romance are all swirled together with the same sensuality.

Originally the title for Harvest was going to be What the Harvest Gave Me, a nod to one of my favorite Frida Kahlo paintings, What the Water Gave Me. Florence + The Machine has a song by the same name, which is also in part inspired by Virginia Woolf’s suicide. The idea of killing off one version of oneself, in Virginia Woolf’s case wading into water with stones in her pockets, and stepping into another confirms the power of reinvention that Sukari finds with each place she steps into.

Amanya Maloba is a fashion writer, stylist, and author. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Language and Literature from the University of Chicago. Her fashion writing and photography has appeared in numerous publications including the Huffington Post, Refinery29, and CollegeFashionista. Amanya has also participated in style campaigns with Finish Line and eBay. Harvest, published in July 2014 by Vine Leaves Press, is Amanya’s first collection of fiction. Amanya’s style and writing is influenced by her Kenyan heritage as well as her time living in London and miscellaneous travels. Find her on her website and on Twitter @Amanya_M