Genesis: The Name that Chose Me

It all started with Jamaica T. Jones and the End of the World, a short film about a 20-something-year-old Black female photographer who is emotionally impulsive and encouraged to make personal adjustments and reap the benefits. Immediately, I felt seen because, at the time, I worked as a photographer and needed to get my emotions in check to reach the next level of life.

As the end credits rolled, a duo of pretty, Black voices captured me not only melodically but lyrically: ‘If you want to do better, believe it; if you want to do better, foresee it,’ they sang and continued. ‘What good are your dreams if you don’t really think that they can be? What good are your desires if you’re afraid to do what you see?’ Much like the film’s main character, Jamaica, I was in a transitional period, and the messages throughout spoke loud and clear.

According to the credits, the vocalists were Venus 7, and the song title was ifu. I know what you’re pondering: I bit off their name, yes? Well, no. Not long before I first watched Jamaica T. Jones, I decided on Venus as my pseudonym after ditching the one I had been using in my college years: Kimani, which rhymes with Imani; despite the unforeseen elocution lessons I dreaded to give, most people neglected to pronounce it correctly, which was frustrating, and what’s more, the secondary reason I began to shop for a new alias.

While I always considered Kimani a pretty name, there was no real reason or meaning behind why I chose it, and once I realized this, it became incumbent to find a name that was somehow reflective of me. As a child, I loved learning about mythological gods and goddesses and, one day, spent ample time sifting through countless Greek names, but none of them grabbed me.

Remembering that Roman gods and goddesses were the Greek counterparts, I resumed my search later and stumbled across Venus; some historians believe that she was the granddaughter of Jupiter, while others say she was his daughter. Jupiter, or Zeus in Greek mythology, was the king of the gods, the cosmos, and lightning; it wasn’t only the beauty and freedom of the goddess, Venus, that drew me, but that she was a descendent of the divine, most high God, one of Jupiter’s many children.

As a child of four, I swore to anyone in my family who listened that Jupiter was my original home before traveling to Earth at birth. Six years later, I discovered that Jupiter was, in fact, the ruling planet of my astrological sun sign: Sagittarius. It all connected beautifully, and therefore, I was sold on Venus; granted, all living beings come from God, but I gravitated to the simplified Father God and goddess child relationship. Digging the intent behind Venus, as in me, a question interrupted my bliss: ‘Venus what?’ I required a last name, and while Venus from Jupiter slightly intrigued me, I wasn’t entirely devoted to it and refused to reintroduce myself with half a moniker on social media.

Fast forward to googling the songstresses Venus 7 in hopes of learning more about these extraordinary ladies. Surprisingly, I came up short in the information department; I remember getting faked out by a Wikipedia page under the same name, but its contents were not about the musical pair. Eventually, I discovered Primer on YouTube, the only album recorded and released by the duo in the mid-2000s.

Aside from Primer, there was nothing online about Venus 7, not even their real names or likeness; the cover of Primer depicts two glowing silhouettes walking through wet paint in a night sky. The album is a consuming fire and coalescence of poignant messages and anecdotes, purposeful interludes, otherworldly vibrations, and occasionally, Primer was there to lift me out of life’s black holes in which I hopelessly descended.

Two years later, the duo arbitrarily popped in my head; I googled them once more and came up short a second time. I began referring to them as anonymous Black girl magic, and while I do not know what separated them, maybe remaining a mystery was a part of their plan, whether or not they made it big, kind of like Daft Punk or something. Who knows?

As usual, that blasted Venus 7 Wikipedia page appeared before me at the top of the search results, and finally, I decided to read up on just what the hell Venus 7 was. Essentially, Venera 7, Russian for Venus 7, was the first spacecraft to transmit data to Earth from another planet. It launched in the summer of 1970 and landed on Venus on December 15th of the same year; although born in the 90s, December 15th is my birthday.

I hit the ceiling in a good way; ‘what are the odds of that,’ I thought. And how fucking cool? I find that my pseudonym is a birthright and declaration of my arrival on Earth. Not from Venus, though, but Jupiter. I thought to spell the word seven out but replace the ‘v’ with the actual number to separate from the music duo and the soviet spacecraft. It certainly wasn’t something I saw every day, and it was unique.

As I rebranded, I found comfort in the perpetual availability of Venus Se7en, as far as usernames went. I even googled the pseudonym to ensure no others used it. Hence, there is no doubt Venus Se7en waited for me to find it; I thought I had to be what others thought I should be when I went by Kimani. Yet, as I searched for an exodus, I was unaware that I possessed the key to free myself and be myself at last.

Following liberation and being completely comfortable with who I was, my love of the cosmos, its Creator, and creations led me to find a part of myself I didn’t know by name yet. She’s always been there, patiently waiting in the wings, everpresent, loving, strong, beautiful, intelligent, radiant, and free! There’s truth in that epiphany I had some years ago: everything I want to be is always inside of me. So, why look elsewhere?

For your listening, liberating pleasure, Primer by Venus 7, the duo.