“Little Black Butterfly in Iridescent Sunlight” and the spoken word album “Black Butterfly” embodies a raw, universal, voice from the perspective of an female adult coping with the trauma of childhood sexual abuse. They are art therapy tools (not suitable for children) that help survivors reconnect with emotions from the past. While, our poetry book “Wounded Souls” and compilation CD “Wounded Soul” Vol.1 & 2 inspires survivors to overcome their pain and move into a more positive place in the healing process.

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I TUNES

MY JOURNEY TO UNLEASHING & LEARNING TO POSITIVELY USE THE POWER OF SPOKEN WORD

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(BASED ON A TRUE STORY by Ingrid D. Johnson)

My heart was broken …  another relationship had ended. I was destroyed emotionally and spiritually.

I had so much to say to him but he couldn’t hear me, he refused to listen.

The rage was bubbling like a volcano inside my soul . The glass of cherry up against my lips with its offering sliding over my tongue, pouring down my throat,  was my substitute for courage … since I was too upset with God and myself to ask for some.

I had recorded spoken word only one other time. It was in year 2000. It was a free verse poem, much worse than this one, although “Succubus” was pretty erotic and open.

I needed no formal training …  just my broken soul and my wild emotions. The catalyst was my  … well, let’s just call him my “ex-lover”, although LOVE had nothing to do with what we shared for a short spin. He was apart of a long list of sad moments in my life but the real source of my pain was years of verbal, emotional, physical, spiritual, and sexual abuse. The impact of all this abuse was many years of broken relationships. Years of  disrespect, disbelief, lack of love, having no voice, no justice or mercy, and my hunger and thirst for true love. I was breaking down and the mic was ready to take in and record all my painful sounds … just before biting back.

Quietly, he showcased his rythmic babies, his exotic mistress, his “banging” ladies, and I chose the hottest one for my piece. The beat was very mysterious, erotic, and mystical … making “Succubus” sexy and my poem very intoxicating. However, I was annoyed by the female vocals he had moaning in the back, invading my private expression. I told him to erase her, since he was so skilled at erasing women like me. He did out of polite kindness but he had no passion for my art … and no love or respect for me. I accepted that and tried to make peace with it in my body … but my soul wouldn’t let him get away so easy.

On a high barstool behind him, I let the sounds come out slowly, creating their own seductive shapes and images. They float lightly on top of the erotic beat, and ride the sonic waves like the ocean. I like what I hear and continue to set the stage for a surprise ending. Next, I open my own mouth and moan, letting out a long sensual but tortured scream that expresses buried emotions, thoughts that wanted no recognizable words, just sound. Suddenly, I look over and catch him for a split second, enjoying my poetic piece. That is until, I add my punch line and kill the erotic vibe for him. The truth stings and he does not like the ending but leaves it the way I want it to get rid of me.

I sit there behind him … lost without my faith - lost without Jesus to show me the way. Dying inside with so much more to say … I begin to feel him growing restless. He tries one more time to convince me to edit the ending of “Succubus” so it can sound “Hot”. I refuse to accept that and gently stroke his ego by telling him how kind he is to do this for me. The words coming out of my mouth disgust me. It isn’t like me to stroke egos … so I silently, swear to never do this again. I promise myself  to never be a “flatterer” to get anything from anyone again. I would pay cash instead and do things the right way, God’s way. I would learn starting today.

Sick of me expressing myself, just like he was sick of using my body months ago, he tells me he has to get going. I understand and start collecting my things. I reflect on the sad reality that he only let me  bare my soul and record it  in his basement to remove the guilt of using me for sex from his conscience. It was a guilt offering and I take it gladly to express myself and all my pain. Thus clearing his conscience of all sin … because I see things differently than he does.

The gift he is giving me - the gift of baring my soul in that basement is my new beginning. It  is a way out for me. It is a way to gain more power and to express myself in the music and entertainment business. Although, I didn’t know it at that time.

In fact, in hindsight, I was a “sex slave” on my way out of EYGPT, carrying with me their wealth, like the Israelites following Moses to a land of freedom, after 400 years of bondage.

That was how my spoken word album began … in the basement of my ex-lover’s house. The same type of place my innocence was stolen, when I was so young. And just like then, I didn’t know that I would come out of that basement forever changed. However, this time, I came out with new power, a new purpose, and a new way of seeing and understanding myself. I came out of that basement saying no to giving him “one last moment” of pleasure because I heard a small still voice whispering back at me, over his speakers.

“Ingrid, you are not just hips, thighs, and lips. You are a princess with the power to become a Queen, so rise up, take your new gift and begin your journey. I will teach you how to use your gifts in a powerful way - in a positive way that will change your life and make your dreams come true.”

I listened to the voice inside of me telling me to respect myself, more than pleasing him. I left my ex lover’s basement with the first half of my spoken word CD finished. The second half was completed in my closet at home  with a new producer, who somewhat believed in my dreams. It was all an adventure, to say the least. It was a new path that would teach me many new things.  TO BE CONTINUED …