Well, I have moved yet again.
Let me count now.
Red House, new country house, College (do different dorms and dorm room moves count? There were 6), Apartment with Gale, Back to country house, Nashville apartment, Franklin farmhouse, Barn, Yorktown house, Birnam Wood Farm, Log house, Big White house in Northport, Shirley Place, Condo in Reston Place, Our new house, Marriage House, Tuscaloosa, Atlanta house, Back to Franklin! Wren Circle, House on Peytonsville Road, Jenkins Spider Farmhouse-Sweet Springs, Condo on Boxwood, Dreamhouse on hill--Harpeth Ridge Road, Fernvale house, Apartment (1 month) , House on Hill-Crazy woman's house (2 months) , Michele's Farmhouse in Leiper's Fork, MOVE TO GERMANY--2003 Altensteig hotel Sonnebuhl, apartment in Herrenberg, Come home to house on Pine Circle, House on Postwood, Move back to Tuscaloosa, Reston Place (nightmare), Northwood Lake house, Move to Birmingham Old Looney Mill End-The Garden House, Move back to Tuscaloosa-The Brown Byrd House, Take an apt in Birmingham as experiment to get out of depression from isolation didn't work because of dogs needing more space than we had, move out, go home to Brown Byrd House, deep dark depression sets in for a long time, another experiment, move to house in Mt. Laurel in Birmingham to see if it will help with depression and get me in a routine and away from sadness of Tuscaloosa and all it represents to me. i.e. Sadness, loss of being, sadness, Mother, Daddy is gone forever to me.
I like the New house, it isn't home.
Home has been two places, the Red House on Mitt Lary and Birnam Wood Farm. Home is a place of safety and becoming familiar with nature, children (childhood) and hope. The Red house is still standing but they painted it beige (I hate beige), Birnam Wood was moved because of interstate 840 going right through the middle of it. It is now in Leiper's Fork. I went there one day to see if I could conjure up the ghost of Miss Marie Falls Molay and I couldn't although apparently all the families who have lived there have moved because of the ghost. She liked us. She left us alone, or perhaps that is why I miss that house so much, I was never lonely or alone there, and I had a purpose, my children, the cows, chickens, a garden, even swimming laps in the pool.
I hope to be finished editing my novel, The Ave Maria Diaries soon.
The Ghost Dancer's Shirt is going well.
It is Spring in Birmingham, but very cold outside, at least the heat works in this new house. We are the first to live in it. What stories will we leave engrained in the beams, the walls, the floors? I hope I will be happy here. If not, we will move, again, but keep the Brown Byrd House to ground me so I don't ever get too lost.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
My father died on January 12, 2009, a few days shy of my 55th birthday. I wish I could say how I felt about his passing. I don't have any feelings left. I know there is a God who watches over me and Jesus and I know the Holy Spirit is around me, I simply feel like the Holy Spirit has deserted me now. Now when I need the comfort. I think it has to do with control and asking God for things and making promises to Him. Like, "If you do this, then I will do that..." Comes from my Baptist upbringing.
I am still at work on my novel, THE AVE MARIA DIARIES, watch for it soon for I know it will help change the world in a positive way.
The rain is endless.
I am still at work on my novel, THE AVE MARIA DIARIES, watch for it soon for I know it will help change the world in a positive way.
The rain is endless.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Oh, My name is Alabama Brown
My name is Alabama Brown, I forgot to say that. I got my name from William Faulkner's first child, Alabama who was either born or died on my birthday, I forget which one. Also, there is Zekda's Alabama in Save Me The Waltz. So I am Alabama Brown and I hope to publish a book this year, I am looking for an agent now and a publisher. Thanks.
Oh, My name is Alabama Brown
My name is Alabama Brown, I forgot to say that. I got my name from William Faulkner's first child, Alabama who was either born or died on my birthday, I forget which one. Also, there is Zekda's Alabama in Save Me The Waltz. So I am Alabama Brown and I hope to publish a book this year, I am looking for an agent now and a publisher. Thanks.
My writing
Thanks for checking out what is happening in Alabama's world.
I am finishing my novella's, under the title of "Tales From A Nightingale", the novellas are:
The Ave Maria Diaries and The Southern Cross--they are both stories of social injustice and redemption. How appropriate for this time in our world. We need a revolution, but we need a leader first to make it happen. Who will anwer the call?
My other novel is tentatively called, "Check Smith's Private Oz and The Ghost Whisper's Shirt", it too is based on actual facts of social and political injustice, but with a different voice. I am really having fun writing this one. Michael Neff with webdelsol was kind enough to publish the first chapter on his wonderful site, delsolreview.
Poem for the day:
Today there is no sun. The amber leaves reach for nothing.
Tipped with gold on their own, they must rely on nature's way
To acheive what color they hold.
I want to run naked to the lake and jump in. I want the chocolate water
To bathe away these October blues I have inside my head.
I want it to snow, rain or bleed turtles from the sky.
I want a revolution. I want justice. I want a lover who will understand
My colors and paint me red tonight.
Tomorrow I want the same.
Peace.
I am finishing my novella's, under the title of "Tales From A Nightingale", the novellas are:
The Ave Maria Diaries and The Southern Cross--they are both stories of social injustice and redemption. How appropriate for this time in our world. We need a revolution, but we need a leader first to make it happen. Who will anwer the call?
My other novel is tentatively called, "Check Smith's Private Oz and The Ghost Whisper's Shirt", it too is based on actual facts of social and political injustice, but with a different voice. I am really having fun writing this one. Michael Neff with webdelsol was kind enough to publish the first chapter on his wonderful site, delsolreview.
Poem for the day:
Today there is no sun. The amber leaves reach for nothing.
Tipped with gold on their own, they must rely on nature's way
To acheive what color they hold.
I want to run naked to the lake and jump in. I want the chocolate water
To bathe away these October blues I have inside my head.
I want it to snow, rain or bleed turtles from the sky.
I want a revolution. I want justice. I want a lover who will understand
My colors and paint me red tonight.
Tomorrow I want the same.
Peace.
Monday, April 23, 2007
A DISCOURSE ON THE NEW REALITY
A DISCOURSE ON THE NEW REALITY
“The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless. Not being able to enlarge the one, let us contract the other: for it is from their difference alone that all the evils arise which render us really unhappy.”
--Jean Jacques Rousseau
Under the guise of expanding freedom, the current administration is using fear to oppress and manipulate the American public. The constant reality of security level increases in response to vague threats from an intangible enemy are used to secure votes for conservative issues and further a conservative economic agenda. The utility in using the threat far exceeds any benefit from resolving the threat. It wasn’t always this way. The U.S. has previously been threatened by enemies and crises at least as large as the current terror crisis, and visionary Presidents such as FDR and JFK were able to lead America back to security by identifying fear as an enemy instead of an ally, an obstacle instead of a tool.
My Mother was born one year into the blight of the Great Depression in rural Alabama. Her reality consisted of living in poverty and seeing the red dirt through the pine floor planks of her four room home. She took her poverty in stride, everyone did during those days. I asked my Mother one day what she feared while growing up, and without blinking she looked at me and said, “We feared only two things – mad dogs and snakes.” Of course, her reality ended where the mailbox met the dirt road she lived on. There was no 24/7 cable news, she never once had to endure an episode of “Survivor Somewhere”, and she didn’t have to relive “Pearl Harbor” on each anniversary of the attack blaring from her radio sitting on the kitchen counter.
The great depression gripped the country and the world in a crisis more threatening than the current war on terror. In his inaugural address on January 20th, 1933, Franklin Delano Roosevelt outlined his program for leading the nation and the world out of economic despair and cautioned against the repression of fear with the often quoted words, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” FDR recognized that the emotional reaction to fear distorts objective problem solving and hinders true progress.
My three sisters and I are now compelled to learn more about our Mother’s childhood as we are nearing middle age; we try to make sense of the world around us and what reality has become. We are at a place where chaos and our own immortality force us to look to the past to understand and accept the future. Our children have known fear most of their lives. I have accepted the reality of fear, yet I resist accepting it as a way of life. Our reality was based on fear, but we had the imaginative humor of 1960’s sitcoms that offered a secure buffer from the fear of a nuclear attack. Where would we be today without the memories Father Knows Best or Leave It to Beaver? I have a friend who now teaches her two small children “real” morality from watching reruns of Little House On The Prairie. When I asked her why she replied, “there is no fear there in that safe little house.”
I try and go there, to my mother’s reality and it is difficult to comprehend such a simplistic world view, especially now in this age of the Bush “empire of fear”. Yet I can borrow from her reality and let my imagination go to that place if I try hard enough. I only hope my children have inherited some of my imagination. They are going to need it. As if it were that simple.
I have the memory of John F. Kennedy and Camelot. He was elected during an escalating cold war and under the threat of nuclear holocaust. He again cautioned against the bonds of fear during his inaugural address on a snow covered Washington day, January 20th, 1961 saying “So let us begin anew—remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.”
The path forward, out of our current terror crisis, lies not in maintaining and reacting to fear, but in dispensing with fear and pursuing an objective dialogue, grounded in reality but fueled by imagination. So let us begin anew.
“The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless. Not being able to enlarge the one, let us contract the other: for it is from their difference alone that all the evils arise which render us really unhappy.”
--Jean Jacques Rousseau
Under the guise of expanding freedom, the current administration is using fear to oppress and manipulate the American public. The constant reality of security level increases in response to vague threats from an intangible enemy are used to secure votes for conservative issues and further a conservative economic agenda. The utility in using the threat far exceeds any benefit from resolving the threat. It wasn’t always this way. The U.S. has previously been threatened by enemies and crises at least as large as the current terror crisis, and visionary Presidents such as FDR and JFK were able to lead America back to security by identifying fear as an enemy instead of an ally, an obstacle instead of a tool.
My Mother was born one year into the blight of the Great Depression in rural Alabama. Her reality consisted of living in poverty and seeing the red dirt through the pine floor planks of her four room home. She took her poverty in stride, everyone did during those days. I asked my Mother one day what she feared while growing up, and without blinking she looked at me and said, “We feared only two things – mad dogs and snakes.” Of course, her reality ended where the mailbox met the dirt road she lived on. There was no 24/7 cable news, she never once had to endure an episode of “Survivor Somewhere”, and she didn’t have to relive “Pearl Harbor” on each anniversary of the attack blaring from her radio sitting on the kitchen counter.
The great depression gripped the country and the world in a crisis more threatening than the current war on terror. In his inaugural address on January 20th, 1933, Franklin Delano Roosevelt outlined his program for leading the nation and the world out of economic despair and cautioned against the repression of fear with the often quoted words, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” FDR recognized that the emotional reaction to fear distorts objective problem solving and hinders true progress.
My three sisters and I are now compelled to learn more about our Mother’s childhood as we are nearing middle age; we try to make sense of the world around us and what reality has become. We are at a place where chaos and our own immortality force us to look to the past to understand and accept the future. Our children have known fear most of their lives. I have accepted the reality of fear, yet I resist accepting it as a way of life. Our reality was based on fear, but we had the imaginative humor of 1960’s sitcoms that offered a secure buffer from the fear of a nuclear attack. Where would we be today without the memories Father Knows Best or Leave It to Beaver? I have a friend who now teaches her two small children “real” morality from watching reruns of Little House On The Prairie. When I asked her why she replied, “there is no fear there in that safe little house.”
I try and go there, to my mother’s reality and it is difficult to comprehend such a simplistic world view, especially now in this age of the Bush “empire of fear”. Yet I can borrow from her reality and let my imagination go to that place if I try hard enough. I only hope my children have inherited some of my imagination. They are going to need it. As if it were that simple.
I have the memory of John F. Kennedy and Camelot. He was elected during an escalating cold war and under the threat of nuclear holocaust. He again cautioned against the bonds of fear during his inaugural address on a snow covered Washington day, January 20th, 1961 saying “So let us begin anew—remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.”
The path forward, out of our current terror crisis, lies not in maintaining and reacting to fear, but in dispensing with fear and pursuing an objective dialogue, grounded in reality but fueled by imagination. So let us begin anew.
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