Mahoganie.wordpress.com's blog

Untitled Tuesday

It's been an interesting 24 hours.

With receiving final word that I will be interning with the publication I had been interviewing with for the past month or so, to another paper calling TODAY wanting me to cover a story that was going down TODAY, my world feels suddenly invaded; in a good way of course.

Needless today, I couldn't take on the story for today since I've been caught up in studying for my last and most intense final that I'm taking tomorrow, plus no set babysitter. I do have another story surrounding domestic violence that I need to get on board and start pitching like... NOW.

What I have begun doing is work on the creative writing workshop I'm conducting for a third year in a row with a group of 6th grade boys. I get a wonderful kick out of working with them. Each group I've had so far has been really diverse with a lot of Latino, African and Asian boys; with a few White and African-American boys in the mix. I love  the diversity and how they seem to encourage each other when they read each other's work. And their words.......amazes me what's in a sixth graders mind; then again it really shouldn't. After all, for me it still feels like yesterday I was at the same crux or verge of being a child-child verses being a teenager with unexplainable hormones. Here I am facing 30 in two months.

I won't be meeting the boys until January, but I've already given them assignment to work on from now and until that time I see them. Just before I did a mini getaway with my mom and daughter, I emailed the facilitator of the volunteer program the assignment I had for the boys and asked her to read the instructions aloud. She did just that and the boys responded accordingly.

Again more positive feedback as I was told the boys really got into their assignment and look forward to officially start working with me in January. Some of them have already heard about previous years from their schoolmates and couldn't wait for their turn. Inspired by my class with Tony Medina, this year I'm doing something different for a final project for the program. Normally I would have the boys compile an anthology of all of their works together. This year, I'm trying for a chap book.

A chap book is a small paperback book, usually homemade, that poets use to compile a very small volume of their own work and sometimes sell them for a small fee. The chap book was actually my final project for Medina's class. I had fun putting it together and I figured this is something the boys could get into with their own work.

So far it seems 2010 will bring some exciting things may way, writing and creative wise. I'm anxious to get really started. As for now, after tomorrow's exam I truly have a small break between then and January - when I also start the internship and officially be declared a graduate - and I have no clue what I will do with myself in between.

That's the thing.... after working intensely for the past four or five months, what will I do now?

I GOT IT!

The publisher of the local publication called. I got the internship.

*Thanking Jesus*

Random Movie Sunday

Nothing really to say.

I opted out of going out Friday night, attending a holiday party yesterday and I truly made today a movie kind of Sunday. My brain needed the rest. My body needed the rest. Not resting too much since I still have to study for this very last final I'm taking on Wednesday. Nevertheless it felt kinda good not to have anything really pressing to take care of.

My mom left for her cruise today. She's sooooo deserving of it. Helping to take care of matters for my grandmother is a bit stressful, especially when my grandmother just doesn't understand the way of certain things and can be a bit of a pain being set in her ways. The mini getaway I had with my mom last week wasn't enough. We both came home to take care of some kind of matters; me school and with her - my grandmother.

Of course being that my mom is away didn't stop her from texting me to rub in the nice weather she is experiencing. Warm and sunny verses the cold and rainy day I was met with today.

The Snickerdoodle and I lounged about today. She watched her Spongebob during breakfast and while I did a load of laundry and even washed my hair. After I settled down from some minimal domestic chores I was in a movie mode. So I flipped to On Demand (Which I'm beginning to really love and see as my movie DVR).

Confessions of a Shopaholic

The first movie I looked at was Confessions of a Shopaholic. I was actually surprised that this movie was funnier than I expected. It had me within the first 15 minutes. I guess what I love the most about this is the fact that main character "Rebecca" is a budding journalist aiming to get her name inside this plush fashion magazine. Her attitude about the industry reminds me soooooooooooooooooooo much of me. What I love is how they tie in her addiction to her journalistic work and it actually... well WORKS!

My favorite line -> "They use to call me a valued customer. Now they just send me hate mail."

I love movies that feature a journalistic theme (though may romanticize) and help inspire some budding journalist or writer out there - though the industry is morphing in various ways and isn't all that stable.

I will say I didn't like the predictability of the cheesy love-interest subplot. I could have done without that. But overall, I think I wanna own this! Actually I do want it.. I want this and the movie Bride Wars...

 

Rachel Getting Married

So the second movie I choose on OnDemand was just for the hell of it. The Snickerdoodle was napping and I thought I would choose a movie that would best help me fall asleep to momentarily. I saw the title Rachel Getting Married, read the synopsis and thought it would be interesting enough to keep one eye open and another eye close and eventually... Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Ok. I was wrong. I stayed awake waiting to see how everything would turn out. Lemme just say this movie practically had everyone in it; don't know all the names but the faces are all people we've seen around before. Anne Hathaway plays "Kim" a somewhat reformed drug addict/alcoholic who is released from rehab just in time for her sister's, Rachel, wedding. The whole plot revolves around Kim seeking to make amends with her family amidst all the wedding activity. Apparently there are some heavy things - in particular an incident that involved Kim and the death of her younger brother Ethan - that the family fully hasn't dealt with.

Aside from the plot itself, what really drew me in was the unorthodox wedding activity taking place. Rachel was marrying a black guy with caribbean roots, but their friends were very eclectic and seemed to be bohemian-like. The wedding itself was interesting to watch. Cameo appearances include Fab Five Freddie who play a guests at one of the functions, American Idol contestant/actress/singer Tamyra Gray is in a scene singing to the couple and their families, my girl from Nurse Jackie - the lady that play the hospital administrator Mrs. Akalidis - plays Kim and Rachel's step mom. Debra Winger - from Terms of Endearment - plays Kim and Rachel's biological mom.

The film seems to have an indie feel to it, and I do recommend it.

Doubt

So after dinner and watching the last of the Redskins and Raiders game.. oh and watching tonight's David Tutera, I flipped channels to see the movie Doubt was just beginning. I kinda wanted to see this one since Meryl Streep (one of my favorite actresses) received an Oscar nod for her role as this straight lace nun.

So basically Streep is the principal of a Catholic school during the 1960s and suspects something is up with the priest. A fellow, more naive nun (sister) approaches her with a concern based on some funny activity she has noticed with one particular boy - who happens to be the ONLY black boy in the school. After the sister reports her findings, Streep is immediately convinced that the priest has engaged in "inappropriate" behavior with the boy. Though the priest denies any wrong doing there is still room for .... wait for it... wait for it.... yep... DOUBT!

I will say I was getting frustrated for a minute or to, because though the priest denies any inappropriate conduct his actions and answering a question with a question seemed very suspect! The ending is interesting, because there is no real resolve other than the priest leaving the parrish only to be appointed pastor of another.

Maybe that was the writer's intent, especially in light of recent times when Catholic priest are being accused of sexual abuse from years past. *as they say now -> doing the Kanye shrug*

Juno (Single-Disc Edition)

And now as I type this entry one of my favorite movies is on... Juno. I'm not totally sure why I love this movie so much. Maybe it's Ellen Page's wit as Juno (short for Juniper and not Juno, Alaska). I remember when this was release there was small controversial talk about it; something about it promotes teen pregnancy. Actually, I never saw it that way. It's really a coming of age story of a teenager who was in love with the sweetest guy who was jut as naive as her. It's about her growing up during her pregnancy and trying to understand her own emotions about the situation.

I swear those cheesy Comcast commerials where people are singing hideous songs was inspire by this movie... LOL It had a Juno appeal to it.

I believe this will conclude my Sunday Movie Day/Night.

Good Night. :)  

After Winter

With the exception of one last final exam I'm taking on Wednesday, the semester is over. I kinda feel liberated, but not fully. Next semester is only a math course and the internship - which the local paper still hasn't made their final decision on. Then graduation. It only took me....what...... ten years?

My brain...my body feels beat up. Like I've been in a street fight for the last few months. Every week it was a paper on this and a paper on that. Sometimes two to three papers a week! Surprisingly I received nothing lower than a "B" on each one. I won't even reiterate the reading assignments for this semester. Nevertheless I made it.

I zoomed to campus today to drop off my last and final paper. As I was coming home, an oldie but goodie Lauryn Hill song was playing; actually one of my favorites - "Everything Is Everything." I looooooooooooove the lyrics so it's not odd that the song always strikes a cord with me when I play it or some DJ is cutting it up. However, today part of the chorus reasonated with me in a very profound way.

"...after winter, must come spring. Change will come eventually."

I don't know where to begin with the emotional change that has taken place in my life. I do realize, for the longest time...pretty much all of my twenties I was in winter. Crazy as it seems, though I was born in winter - actually on the verge of a snow storm - it's not my favorite season. I'm alive and happiest in spring and summer. Still, imagine being stuck in winter mode during spring and summer. How can that be right? You want to sing out and be free and enjoy the sun, but inside you're cold and pretty much dead to the world. That's how I had been for much of my early adult life. Winter claimed residence.

Slowly I started making changes. Sometimes they were for the better, other times... maybe not, which left me stuck with winter lingering around a bit longer. The heaviest of emotional waves hit me ironically around the time when my home was going through renovations. My life, emotionally, seemed to parallel with the changes taking place to the house. What I haven't wrote about is the fact that though the renovations started in May 2008, they still aren't complete. We had a couple of stand stills, with the major one taking place last fall as permits had to be secured for the most major parts to be continued.  We got the permits and the contractors were back at work. For a while things seemed to be moving right on schedule and then another long pause.

With 90 percent of the house finished no one is complaining, but the long pause really is no fault of our own. Unfortunately the recession hit our contractor VERY hard. He lost out on high paying contracts he had bidding for and pretty much had to rearrange his funds, probably even right down to his personal funds. He apologized profusely and really didn't want to leave my family nor his subcontractors out to dry as he did. It actually seemed that he too went into a depression state for a while as he and his family were on the verge of loosing their home.

As I said no one complained, since much of the work is completed. What's left are a few odds and ends, with only one major room left to completely renovate - my bedroom. I have my new bed and few other things, but haven't been able to set anything up because the room is still in total disarray with my parents' old furniture, clothes and things. There there are cracks along the walls (some from renovations some from aging) and peeling paint. Pretty much I've been the only one really inconvienced during this break. I may have grumbled about the mess when stubbing my baby toe on some piece of furniture, but in the end I'm just thankful I have a spot in the room to lay my head at night.

The pause came just before the summer broke in and just other day the contractor called and emailed to say he is back in business. He is looking to start finishing up with our home in January. When I first heard the news I was more concerned about him, hoping that his financial status was in order. Then I stopped for a moment and thought back to the parallel of progression. I can't explain it, but the timing seems to be right on the dime. Again as I'm coming in for the home stretch with school so is the completion of the house. Most of all my emotional outlook looks better and perhaps brighter than it had been before.

I still get stomped every now and then with some emotional wave coming out of left field, but overall I'm ok. I'm better. I feel spring coming around the corner.

I Dream of Fish

It's 3 am. I've been on a snow capped mountain for the pat two days. A mini get away with my mom and daughter. I'm working on one of the two last papers I have due for the semester. Though the paper is roughly easy, I'm finding it hard to concentrate. I really should have been done with the paper like... yesterday. Yet my mind wanders. Honestly my brain hasn't been letting me rest much since I had a dream my first night here in the mountains.

I woke up from the dream with the after thought of "huh?" I was actually worried a bit. My dream consisted of FISH!!! You see, it's been long said, especially among African Americans that fish in a dream represents pregnancy. Somebody, maybe even the person the person that dreamed it, could be pregnant. After my first pregnancy I have looooooong ago stopped saying "never." My first pregnancy taught me a lot about my own medical condition, my body, timing, doctors and so forth. I'm not going to lie and say I've been celibate since the birth of my daughter. Still, I'm doubtful that pregnancy is looming near me...at this time.

I woke up from the dream thinking. I thought about how a few close friends of mine are pregnant. I'm ecstatic that they are, but I feel sad on some level. I actually miss being pregnant and part of me feels as if I didn't bask in the glow of my pregnancy like I should have when it was my time. I was an emotional wreck during the whole process and almost became a recluse. I wasn't depressed. I was just trying to process everything that was happening to me and the baby at the moment. Granted I had family support, I still wasn't supported emotionally. That was the largest missing piece. I don't think I started to come around until near the end, when I felt every movement of my daughter when she was inside of me. For the most part my pregnancy was easy. No real complications, like I've been hearing from one friend.. her sleepless nights, back aches and so forth. Still a large part of me wants to relive the experience, then I think when the child is actually here. I love my daughter to death, but being in a parent isn't a walk in a park 24/7.

Speaking of my daughter, I thought my dream could have something do with what took place the day before. As routine, whenever we come to these mountains we do a run to the local Walmart before climbing the hills to our abode. I never noticed before how this particular Walmart has an aquarium section with loads of goldfish for folks to oogle over and if they want; pick some and take them home. I wheeled the Snickerdoodle over to this section and we oogled over the colorful goldfish for a while before rejoining my mother. So maybe my dream was a reaction to that?

I thought more about the dream. In it, I was visiting with an old friend I haven't spoken to in a year. We were standing in a small yard to a very small adjoining house. We were talking about an instructor whose class we were taking together. I noticed in her very small yard, there was a man made pond filled with goldfish. The dream flipped to when we are going inside and her very small house was full with people; her two children, her mother and her sisters. The dream flipped again to where I'm inside my car. At first I was on my on my cell phone talking to the same instructor my friend and I were talking about. I'm holding a paper that looks to be an exam I took and there are red marks everywhere. There's no letter grade on the paper, but apparently I'm upset because I thought I failed. At some point I noticed a pool of water on the driver's side floor. I looked down to see numerous goldfish swimming around. I don't freak out in the dream, but I'm left wondering how in the world did the water and fish (that seemed to be from my friend's pond) end up in my car.

I looked up several meanings of fish in a dream. Of course there is the obvious meaning; pregnancy. However, most of the interpretations I've been receiving about swimming fish have been about prosperity, wealth and personal power.

For a moment or two I thought about the friend who was in the dream with me. I wondered if the dream was a telling of her fortune sort of speak. Granted we haven't talked in over a year (a small falling out - another story), but I get a sense of her life via Facebook. It seems she still has her ups and downs, but I just pray that she will see some kind of ray of sunshine and has to want it. She's dropped hints that she is working on returning to school, which is wonderful, but again being that we haven't talked I don't know everything that is going on with her at the moment. My mind flashed back to an email I received a month ago from JM. JM is a dreamer too. Her email simply stated a dream she had of me that showed me as successful, with very long hair and happy. Her dream seemed to be in align with my life, the current strides I've been making and so forth.

Then, in the midst of completing one of the papers, I minimized my work to check the local publication I interviewed with for the internship position. I flipped through their site to see if they posted the story I submitted to them two weeks ago. Still nothing posted and no final word on their decision.

It's now 4 am and my mind is racing; the swimming fish, finals I have coming up, wondering what will 2010 bring and a particular wedding dress.

The wedding dress isn't so random. I was watching one of my guilty pleasures last night: My Fair Wedding with David Tutera. Actually, I've probably explained this before, but I really love looking at certain wedding shows for the party aspects as I grab a few ideas. I love Tutera's work and would love to be able to afford him to put on a party of my own. Last night I was almost in tears as I watched this beautiful bride try her three different wedding dresses. She wanted a 1950s style theme and Tutera had her try on dresses that matched the era. One dress in particular; a soft pink dress, strapless dress set off with a crystal-like pendant at the waist. It had a cocktail look in the front and it stopped above the ankles, with a back that was blossomed into a ball skirt/train. It's better to see it than how I'm describing it at the moment. Ultimately it was the dress chosen for the bride and I fell in love with it. Moments later I posted to Twitter;

I'm not 1 of these chics dying to get married, but if I'm blessed enuff for it to occur, I've seen my future dress on David Tutera tonight

I saw that goldfish have a second meaning; mainly about an important emotional matter or a valuable insight. Pretty much it leaves the dreamer to figure out what they are emotional about. Me? I've been a little emotional about Papi. Again, I'm not pushing for marriage, sometimes I do get scared that I'm going to get bored or feel guilty about neglecting him especially since this particular semester was very I get nervous when I think about how we NEVER had an argument, we barely disagree, but a smile splashes across my face when I realize this calmness is something that is deserved on both ends and it's beautiful. Then I wonder.. wonder if he is really all mine, which causes me to hold back on true deep level feelings. I trust him, but... That damn but. As if I'm expecting the "manly nature of man" to fail me.. him.. us.

4:30 am and I still have this paper to complete.... yet I can't concentrate. Those swimming fish won't let me be.

Nervous Condition

The semester is coming to a close and I feel like I'm loosing it. I know... what happened to the tranquil crash I just experience over the past few days during Thanksgiving? I hate to admit this to myself, but I saw this coming. My heart was in the right place to work on projects and assignments during the break, but my body nor my brain would allow me. So I pushed myself all day Monday to complete what needed to be done by Tuesday...leaving me to complete what needs to be done by tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Last day of classes as well as the launch date for the magazine. I'm helter skelter right now. Trying to gain balance.. and failing. Either STILL too tired to be organized enough to accomplish things in a timely manner or I'm subconsciously procrastinating. I literally said the other day.. I'm tired of thinking intellectually. I need to just be dumb for a few days to give my brain a rest.

What's odd is I've NEVER been an emotional eater. Normally when I'm this stressed, or a bit lost about something my stomach is too tied in knots to eat. If I even try to eat it will barely stay down. I have to force myself to get it down or else.... a pukey mess. However, this time it's different. I feel myself eating just as I'm thinking of a game plan or strategy on how to attack the assignment at hand. Maybe it's in part because there are hearty Thanksgiving leftovers in the fridge along with a rich deep dark chocolate layered cake I made. I do feel "it's that time" as well since I've been eating up the chocolate in the house. Nevertheless, I'm paying for all the chocolate intake via the acne appearing on my face now - yeah I breakout when I over indulge with the chocolate.

Besides the final exams coming up in another week, the final papers I have due soon and even the launch of the magazine, I have another added stress. For the past fews weeks I've in talks with a popular local paper for an internship position. Things seemed to be rolling along ok, but I'm left anxious as I await their final decision. I first spoke with the publisher who seemed to be impressed with my cover letter and resume. Though she thought I would be a good fit for the position, she turned me over to the assistant managing editor. I met with the editor a few weeks later and at the time I thought we got off to a good start. Yet, part of my nervousness now is as I reflect I wonder if I was too comfortable during the quasi-formal (informal?) interview and a bit too familiar.  *big sigh*

Still I walked away from the interview with a mission to do. The editor wanted me to audition (sorta speak) by having me come up with a topic to write about for one of their blogs and write up the story/blog. I did the story, plus took pictures. I submitted everything on Thanksgiving Eve. Last night I sent a follow up email to inquire about the status of my submission and their final decision. I received a response thanking me for my submission and that they were still interviewing other candidates.

So I wait.

Bite my nails, take a hit of the chocolate cake, stumble over words in my academic papers, bite my nails some more, take shot of cornbread and sausage stuffing, bit my nails, sleep, wake up to work on papers, say a prayer or two.. then a few.

It's mine.

Obsession & Reverence

Originally written November 17, 2009 for Creative Writing with T. Medina.

Obsession and Reverence*

By: Mahoganie Jade Browne

 

he was taught to pray three times a day.

Sunrise. Afternoon. Dusk.

Sometimes East. Sometimes West.

No true religion.

Just fun and games.

Until…

 

he stubbed his toe.

Lost everything to friend and foe.

Bare.

Cursing.

he walked away, feeling forsaken

Thinking.

he did his share of proper worship.  

Asking.

What had he done to trigger what he had wrought?

 

No reflections in the dark.

No echo.

No sound of his own breathing.

The open space rang loud and clear.

Empty.

Like his prayers.

 

Suddenly playing church wasn’t an option anymore.

 

 

*Title taken from Lloyd McNeill’s painting “Obsession and Reverence” (1963) currently on display at Howard University ’s School of Fine Arts Art Gallery .

 

 

Winter Wonderland or La petite mort

It's a struggle to get these thoughts out. I convinced myself I needed to write to get me going again. Since Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, I've been feeling as if I've been in a daze. As if my body and mind has reached it's highest level of excitement and activity that it can't do anymore...at least not at this time. Still I have four more papers to complete before the close the of the semester, plus some editing and writing duties for the publication that is officially launching.. err ummm this week!!! (EEK!)

I didn't realize how busy and how truly drained I have been since August. From writing two to three papers just about every week, to writing creatively for Medina's class and even throwing in some journalism duties PLUS coming home to take care of whatever issues there, I should be half out my mind. Still I'm in tact. A long time ago this would have drowned me. I would have given in to defeat and sat on the sidelines, again prolonging my "college career." But a force stronger than me has kept me afloat. I've just lived up to my end as far as the work goes.

This year I didn't formulate any real thoughts on Thanksgiving. I was just thankful for the second year in a row that the "Ides of November" wasn't looming - death, depression, sickness, over blown drama - and I was able to spend Thanksgiving with the ones I love. The day after met me with an incredible body crash. I managed to get up early with the Snickerdoodle and give her breakfast and watch her favorite shows with her. However, for the most part I stayed on the couch with one eye on the Snickerdoodle as she played and another trying to talk me into a full fledge sleep. Stayed away from my computer and for the most part my Blackberry; though I did send and received a couple of text messages. I did get a couple of cat naps in, but once the Snickerdoodle was in bed for the night, I wasn't far behind.

I slept a deep, dreamless sleep. The best.

Saturday met me with such energy. I knew I still had work to complete, but the computer just didn't appeal to me. I didn't fret over it at all. I spent the day helping my father dig out Christmas decorations and few other items from the storage shed. I did find a few goodies that once belonged to me as a kid that I'm now giving to the Snickerdoodle.

 

Vintage c. 1980

So this red chair was wrapped up and towards the back of the storage shed. Apparently my grandfather gave this to me when I was about 2 or 3 years old. Of course I looked it and said the Snickerdoodle had to have this. She saw it and couldn't wait to sit in it.

 

Vintage c. 1980s

Then there was my "Dressy Bessy" doll; the doll that helps you understand how to zip, button, snap and tie. I think this was my favorite find for the Snickerdoodle. After I gave Bessy a good spin around the washing machine, to brighten her up, the Snickerdoodle hasn't been able to put her down. She loves this, which is a bit of shock to me. Usually the Snickerdoodle doesn't play with dolls at her. She's more for toys with actions and that makes noise. Then again, with Bessy there is action as you zip, snap, tie and button.

By the end of the day I was tired. My whole body ached. Energy was gone. I took a bubble bath and headed straight for the bed. I was nearing my deep sleep when the Snickerdoodle awoke in the middle of the night. For whatever reason she wasn't  trying to go back to sleep. She wasn't ill, but I knew she too was tired having a long day playing outside. Still she fought sleep and made space in my bed for her, her blankie, and Bessy. I made several attempts for her to go back to sleep, but none was working.

 

 

Sesame Street Presents - Follow that Bird

Soooooo.

We had an impromptu slumber party as we watched a couple of movies on OnDemand Shrek and Sesame Street's Follow That Bird (a classic from my generation when I was like... 5) The Snickerdoodle stayed up and watched both movies and still fought to go back to sleep. Nevertheless by 4:30 am she was too tired to fight and my body felt like it wanted to slap the crap out of me for not sleeping. Once I knew for sure the Snickerdoodle was sleep (in her own bed), I collapsed back into my bed, falling into a deep repose until the house phone rang around 8 am. Then my cell phone rang no later than that.

I hit ignore for both calls and went back to sleep.

My body and mind had grown just that tired. Even now.. as it's only inching towards 3:30 in the afternoon, my bed seems to be calling. Just one more day of sleep and I'll be ready to finish out the last week of classes and the next week of a final exam, plus the last two papers that are due. 

The Melody Hearing Her Song

Within the past few weeks, Medina has been pressing the class to go deeper with our writing. The first couple assignments were reactions pieces or poems/prose we were to construct based on artwork by an African-American artist we individually choose. There was an "I Am From..." assignment where we have to look within and create a piece illustrating where we are from and then there was the one due today; the soundtrack of your life.

When the "soundtrack" assignment was given, immediately I thought back to the tag line I created for my blog years ago.

"A Melody In Search of a Lyric."

How convenient this would come to mind? At the first opportunity I got I wrote down: I'm a melody. Everyone that enters my life one way or another is a lyric...creating a neverending bittersweet symphony.

The whole weekend I pondered over it more. Eventually last evening I sat down and began listening to music. Somehow Alicia Keys' latest single "Doesn't Mean Anything," struck a cord that caused my thoughts to flow. I began writing. What I ended up with I presented in class.

In Search Of….

By: Mahoganie Jade Browne

 

A melody in search of a lyric.

Deaf to the harmony already rumbling in the background.

Blind to the words facing her.

A Bittersweet Symphony she was escaping.

 

“We got your sex and your violence. Melody and Silence.”

 

Being a Soulful Moaner, she wailed.

Most times out of a lustful fit that soothe the pain.

Other times out of  the need to be.  

 

Always looking to others to write her song; from Donnie crooning on about A Song For… “Her” to taking on the Shapeshifter’s Theme to Lola and rewriting it Blackveleteen’s Theme knocking off Lenny.

It’s just as Springsteen and Manfred Mann’s Band said, she was Blinded By The Light.

 

 

A melody in search of a lyric.

Stumbling onto a blank score.

Unknowingly setting the time signature to a never ending composition.

From six-eight to four-four.

From the blue note to the highest praise pitch.

Perhaps rococo

Never a strophic.

 

Vivid rhythms conjuring faces.

Attracted to the distinct flow.

Co-writing the symphony of her life.

 

The room fell silent for a minute and then heads nodded in agreement. I could tell everything was thinking, but didn't know what to say. Medina cut the silence by asking me to read it backwards.....

Co-writing the symphony of her life.

Attracted to the distinct flow.

Vivid rhythms conjuring faces.

 

Never a strophic.

Perhaps rococo

From the blue note to the highest praise pitch.

From six-eight to four-four.

Unknowingly setting the time signature to a never ending composition.

Stumbling onto a blank score.

A melody in search of a lyric.

 

It’s just as Springsteen and Manfred Mann’s Band said, she was Blinded By The Light.

Always looking to others to write her song; from Donnie crooning on about A Song For… “Her” to taking on the Shapeshifter’s Theme to Lola and rewriting it Blackveleteen’s Theme knocking off Lenny.

 

Other times out of  the need to be.  

Most times out of a lustful fit that soothe the pain.

Being a Soulful Moaner, she wailed.

 

“We got your sex and your violence. Melody and Silence.”

 

A Bittersweet Symphony she was escaping.

Blind to the words facing her.

Deaf to the harmony already rumbling in the background.

A melody in search of a lyric.

 

Almost in unison the class let out whispers of excitement and approval. Even I couldn't hide the fact that the words were more like me... a bit abstract, yet a bit transparent. A living metaphor.  

It took everything within me not to cry in their presence. My life.. plain as day...

The Hardest Lesson

One of the hardest lessons that I've learned - and still reminding myself of - is that I'm worth it.

It's been on my heart and mind to sit down and talk with my aunt. I love my aunt, even in the midst of her flaws. After all, who am I to judge. Yet, it saddens me that at her age (she's edging closer to 50) somewhere deep down she doesn't feel like she is worth it. Granted, it's not my job to "fix it," but Lord knows I wish I could. I wish I could open her eyes to a lot of things about her self worth. Ironically, some of it is partly what she has inspired on me or shown me.

My own lessons of self worth developed before I had my daughter. I attracted quasi-decent guys; meaning I always looked at their social status, figured in how they would "complete" me (sorta speak) while carrying the "independent woman" sign with the disclaimer "I just want someone to love and be loved in return." Just when I had over extended myself by doing everything for them but jump through a hoop of fire baring a neon sign that says "pick me! I'm the one.." a disconnect would occur. Most of the time I was glutton for punishment and kept trying to force a connection when it was obvious it wasn't even a dial tone on the line.

Since becoming a mom it just seems like the wool has been pulled off my eyes and I see a lot of BS that floats around when it comes to people and relationships. I'm not claiming expert status. Far from that, but just the basic level of obvious bull - who really has time for that? Not I. Still what would it take for my aunt and so many other grown women to see the obvious and not accept it?

I wanna talk now, but things are hot....tense. She won't listen. I need a time to catch her off gaurd. So she has nowhere to hide to and no choice but to listen. Yes, it's time for the aunt to listen to the niece for a change.

All this over a man, that isn't trustworthy and has caused more harm to the FAMILY than good.