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SevenPhoto by Alicia Reiner/Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I am from fire.

I’m from the fire my father had for life and the fire my mother had for living. His was fueled by parties, drugs, wit, and self-involvement, hers by longing, anger, spite, and sweat. He was vivid; he hit her skin like sunshine and she finally felt warmth from an external source. She smoldered. He was curious to know how her sweat turned to the steam that hovered over her skin. What was her heat source? How could someone burn so hot without catching fire?

In the end, he combusted, was consumed by his own fire. In his 30’s, he was raging out of control, in his 40’s he was a smoking pile of embers. Today, he’s ash. He is gray and the heft of him scatters with the slightest breeze. Even his wit burned away. His heat from the outside stoked her burning on the inside and she nearly exploded. She had to protect herself or be destroyed.

She put down her longing, anger, and spite and put in more sweat. She worked and struggled and toiled and fought — she sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat — until the steam rose and condensed and rose and condensed, protecting her from the fire that was him and keeping the burn inside of her. It was a kiln, churning and working — always working — to produce something better, something that wasn’t just burning away life, but something that was living. She wanted to go on living, she needed to keep on living. She couldn’t let him take her, too. She couldn’t be burned away too. She had to work, work, sweat, sweat, burn, burn!

And I was born. I was ignited and her steamy sweat cooled me so I wouldn’t burn away. His flames, her burning, my birth.

I am living with a pocket full of ashes and a stomach full of embers. I am from fire.


Angela BlakeAngela Blake lives in South Bend, Indiana and regularly rants, rambles, and reflects on life as a black chick in the Midwest at Afro(ec)centric.

Angela submitted this essay in response to our call-out for readers to fill in the blank, “I am from…” If you’d like to finish this phrase and share something about yourself, your heritage, your geography, your interior mind, your imaginings or vulnerabilities, read the simple guidelines and submit your work for consideration.


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11 Comments

Large wisdom.

wow!

Wow! Now that's a hard act to follow for a low-burn lady from Dublin Ireland! 

This is absolutely beautiful and perfect and right.

Really awesome. Thank you for this beautiful piece of writing.

stunning

As I read this beautiful, hard truth, I heard it as spoken word- powerful inside, and outside, too-

Agreed! We'll be working with Angela (fingers crossed!) to have her read and record this.

Stunning, beautiful ,terrible , awe inducing piece. From the fire comes the essential, pure, elemental. The alchemical - chemical marriage produced quite writer.

Reminded me of Buddha's Fire Sermon

The instant I laid eyes on her I felt a rush of coolness that caused me to know she was rare.  Her fresh and unblemished mind quietly yet eagerly absorbed everything around her from the moment she was placed in my arms. The omnipotent source from which she comes has given me the privilege to be called her mother.