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Category: General Topics
I Wonder How Many Black People…
Nostalgia
I didn’t always drink coffee, but the first cup was so delicious, made with the expertise of a veteran coffee drinker some years back, that I incorporated caffeine into my daily schedule and like a feign sought to mimic it’s deliciousness. But this morning, as I poured the warm goodness and integrated it with Carmel Vanilla Cream, something unexpected happened. Ok so yes I was thinking about Blogging but not that. I was, however, brought back to those early days. Suddenly, I tasted of the past and images hurried to my thoughts like a wave of epiphany. With each sip it is as if I tasted of conversation and laughed at jokes once long faded away in memory. It reminded me of an article I read last week about scientist finally admitting that memory is stored in the DNA, and I do believe it’s true. Even if we cannot remember a moment, I believe we still live it in some way. Maybe we mimic the actions of what we can neither speak nor recall. Maybe something makes us laugh and we cannot explain why. Or perhaps there was an experience so traumatic that it disintegrated into our very skin, but is no longer accessible through the mind. Why is it that when we recall the past we include ourselves even if we had not lived it? “We were slaves” I say of my history, though I have never been anyone’s property and neither have I picked of anyone’s cotton. Could it be that this experience was genetically passed on to me? Indeed, I believe so. For who am I to be so arrogant as to believe I inherited my mother’s nose and not my ancestors ways? Their thoughts? Their promises?
Memory, like water it is an interesting thing. A substance that we use daily, that we cannot live without, and that we have even named and yet, we know nothing about it. For what is H2O really? I laugh at the boldness of man to think he has all the answers, and yet the things we use on a daily basis is still foreign to us. So, Nostalgia, the bringing forth of memory we either despise or long to experience again, perhaps it is much deeper than we think, and yet closer too.
In The News: A real “Beyond The Colored Line” Situation Arises
Race of Rachel Dolezal, head of Spokane NAACP, comes under question
(CNN) The race of one of the most prominent faces in Spokane, Washington’s black community is under question after her estranged mother claimed she is white but is “being dishonest and deceptive with her identity.”
Rachel Dolezal, 37, is the head of the local chapter of the NAACP and has identified herself as at least partly African-American. But her Montana birth certificate says she was born to two Caucasian parents, according to that couple, which shared that document and old photos with CNN.
“We are her birth parents,” Lawrence Dolezal told CNN on Friday. “We do not understand why she feels it’s necessary to misrepresent her ethnicity.”
The Writer in Me: TV
Does the writer in you get in the way of certain normal activities? Do you react differently in certain situations because of how you analyze the writing in it? Maybe you used to read books strictly for entertainment, but now you can’t stop noticing run-on sentences and comma splices. Well, maybe that’s more along the lines of the Grammatical Geeks (of which I happen to not be one of them, for those of you who’ve counted all of my grammatical mistakes in the first two sentences of this post) but you get the point. For instance, watching movies is not just about watching movies anymore. I don’t know about you, but TV means so much more now than entertainment on a number of levels. One of those levels is writing. When I sit down to watch a good TV show or movie, one thing I notice is how well (or poorly) the writer outlined a scene. Sure the director and actors play a major role, but I’m also looking at how the story was written, what was left out, and why. Its kinda weird I’ll admit. I’m probably the only person who yells at the screen:
“What? That doesn’t even make any sense. Who wrote this?”
On occasion I do blame the actors but mostly for me its the writers. I mean, don’t say Sara hates the color red and then have her skipping down the street in red platforms. And please don’t overdue the dialogue. The second season of American Horror Story almost lost me, way too much talking going on between the head guy of the catholic mental institution and the demonically possessed Nun (yea, forgot both their names). That season just seemed to be a lot slower than the first one. The writer in me therefore sought to mentally ask the writer what happened. Supernatural on the other hand is totally awesome when it comes to dialogue. I love the conversations between Sam and Dean, the humor that is incorporated into the story, and the carrying out of the roles by the actors. Speaking of awesome, when a TV show is excellent the writer again gets all of my praise. It rarely occurs to me that the actors merely improvised or that the director deleted a scene. In the end, I just can’t help the writers eye. But believe it or not this actually helps me in my own writing. When I write, I like to picture it playing out like a movie. I figure if I picture the story unfolding like a movie, chances are I’ll critique it with the same level of attention. Nope,. doesn’t always work but I still do it. In the same way, when I watch TV shows or movies I sometimes see it as a manuscript. I mean, someone had to write it first… write?
Summer Smells
I love the smell of summer. Though you really can’t experience it until the sun starts to set and darkness sets in. Right now the sun is overtaking any whiff of delicacy in the air with its blazing heat, so you’d have to wait a while to experience what I mean. It has to be the perfect mixture of cool and warm mixed in a giant bowl called your backyard. I would describe it like freshly cut grass or the new growth of leaves on tree branches. Or maybe we can associate it with the smell of a coming rain. These aren’t very good descriptions. I know I have not enticed your creative mind to the extent of sight. I know you have not tasted the air of freshness melting on your tongue and all, but I have no other way to describe it aside from these basic examples. Besides, how does one explain the fragrance of life? Sometimes you can see a flower pouring all of its insides out, and cracking shells; shedding the once imperfect exterior to one more fitting for the season. Its growth is in many ways like our own. On first sight it looks like total destruction, and there is no gold at the end of the rainbow, at least not until we have weathered the storm. Always the hard stuff first, pain, suffering, tears, loneliness, doubt. I imagine it is a difficult process too for the flower. So much work to be done and change to endure early on. Only when it has shed its old casing do we begin to see the pretty pinks and reds of softer petals peek out from under the new coat of skin, see the dazzling beauty of what it has now become, and taste of the fresh smells of life.
This Summer…
Go “Beyond The Colored Line” (a short story)
A Short Story, coming August, 2015: Available in Print, Amazon, B&N, Kobo, and the Apple iBookstore. Visit my author website to see the Book Trailer or to learn more and to Sign-Up for the Newsletter. More information about the pending launch campaign, to include contests and free promotional products, will be available soon.And thanks so much for your support.
The PBS Blog 