Every day, a new headline contains an egregious, outrageous and mind twisting claim that turns the truth inside out. And yet truth will out. One of the 100 WOMEN DBA members sent 100 Men Hall rack cards to Welcome Centers across Mississippi. A few of the centers are closed for renovation, and yesterday, I got a call from one in Natchez saying our rack cards arrived, the address had been incorrect, and she didn’t know…
I went on a biblical journey that centered around the Tin Shed. When I bought the 100 Men Hall, there was a work shed on the property, and I applied and received a permit to remodel it into a Musician’s Cottage with the help of grants from the Heritage Area and Coast Electric Round Up. The idea was to encourage musicians to come stay here, to soak up the ancestors’ vibe, and to relax into…
Beethoven’s Ode to Joy is a call for a return to the divine dimension of being human – fraternity, bound together in community, and all of the universal friendship tropes stitched together. Last night, I experienced this great joy. Yesterday, Friday, closing out the week, was a day of being pulled in multiple directions with the always expanding to do list that begs me to complete it and yet taunts me with additions. I got…
When the quarantine began, I was at a crossroads with work. Not the 100 Men Hall, which I had managed to get on a monthly music schedule and had been pushing towards self sufficiency, but rather work that pays my bills. On March 15, everyone and everything stopped and it’s as if the world stepped back to where I had been standing all along. I’m not going to lie, it felt good to not be…
I moved to Bay Saint Louis, Mississippi nearly two years ago. I had a strong yearning to be part of a smaller community, surrounded by nature, experiencing a slower rhythm, with space for my child to run on a longer leash. I had to juggle – I knew what I wanted, but making it happen took stacking uneven blocks on top of each other, not being able to connect all the dots in the future…
Tin’s Wednesday homeschool assignment was figurative language. Here’s my homework. Simile COVID-19 is like a staycation you didn’t want. Metaphor Social distancing was a spigot of cold water dripping daily onto my soul. Personification The pandemic tiptoed into our lives sometimes appearing as the Angel of Death but most times as a wake up call to stop living like the dead.
My mother was an enchanting beauty with her jade green eyes and thick honeyed hair. She turned heads. My sister with her high cheek bones and muscular petite frame has my mom’s looks. Growing up next to these beauties never fazed me. I didn’t compare myself to them or any of the other strikingly beautiful friends I’ve come to know over the years. I know beauty is luck and sometimes even a curse. But I’m…
I was talking about the pandemic to a friend of mine who is a sculptor. I’m not sure we called it the “pandemic” but why not. My friend has been steadily busting her ass in all different directions – a state of the art gallery, multiple moves, art work, all of it, and now it’s all come to a grinding halt. I told her I had returned here to write and record. She said she…
At 60 years old, I’m redefining fun for me. It’s surprising how hard I’ve had to consider what is fun since it changed without my knowing it. I came to the conclusion a few years ago that fun for me was a hike in nature or a good long walk on the beach, a bike ride through a beautiful neighborhood, writing in a group, a gathering of gals with spirits and apps, a yummy dinner…
I’ve been reading what the experts say and it appears this coronavirus might have the tenacity to stick around forever. There is hope that some of us become immune and hope that someone will find a vaccine. Today, I had to tell Tin that he is most likely not going back to school to finish 5th grade. Instead, there is going to be a lot more of me, the dog, the cat and the fish…