I am reposting this blog for a reason.
I skim through blogs and read. Idiotorial caught my attention. I followed and I am glad I did. It too is a personal blog.
At first, I gasped at her thoughts. But I knew they were important to her.
She is halfway around the world from me. Living, breathing writing.
There is much to be learned from others.
Meet Rafa. He has lived with all of his life until last night.
We are in Costa Rica wondering exactly what happened. But really we know. It’s gonna take a while to process.
Rafa’s Dad came to live with us over twenty years ago. He was living in a man camp. And kept getting fired from all of his jobs. I met him when a man building my fence asked to hire him. When I saw how Nestor held a hammer I knew why he got fired all of the time. I took the hammer from his hand. ‘It’s OK.”
He came to live with us. He got married. He had two children. We lived here like a family. Many things have occurred. We have been through a lot together.
Rafa graduated high school and wanted to go to college. I believe Rafa is an exceptional person with a high I Q.
His parents refuse to let him attend the University. We offered to pay for his tuition. He is now working as a laborer. He is now a laborer who belongs in academia. He wants to be in academia. I didn’t make this up for him.
His parents have moved to a Nicaraguan “hood”.
There is much racism here in Costa Rica. The general consensus is Nicas are not smart. Drunks. The women are loose. And they will never get anywhere. I have experienced a lot of racism dumped on this kid. And now I have seen it dumped on him by his own parents.
Unbelievable. They sincerely believe he needs to stay out of school. No education for Rafa.
Continue reading Crabs in a Big Brown Bucket
Once upon a time. I took a friend to the swamp bank. It was green with algae. Ugly. Not like it use to be.
I invited a cousin. Beloved.
We shared what we could. We answered questions. We wanted him (my new friend) to get familiar with the past. The old days of Whitehouse/Westide. It’s fringe. It’s fun and it’s dark. It’s Southern Gothic.
A lot was told. The Goat ( I call him that because of the stable life he has created for himself, his wife and his four daughters. He has grandchildren. He is a well known figure in the Westside community. Respected. ) made a statement about John Hysler giving the word to kill black men that were kidnapped and forced to work whiskey stills.
The writer ran with it. He mistakenly touted stills on Old Gainseville Rd. He made up a neighborhood where the men were kidnapped from. It seems to me like these are important facts. In a story where much is left to the imagination, I cling to the known. In my opinion he made many errors. It was disappointing to me. He had no interest in us. As a matter of fact he was demeaning. As he is with most all Whitehouse/Westside people. And yet, I still call him friend.
Continue reading Black Bottom 3
All things concerning Black Bottom. This is actually the third introduction to this topic. The first is set private. I have to make adjustments. This is an important subject to me. This has been an overwhelming, emotional subject to pursue. It’s kind of underground. (no pun but so ironic) I am committed to writing. We will see. I have witnessed numerous other writers on blogs do good work. That’s all I hope for.
Making this choice is not difficult for me. Being born an artist I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am missing the boat that they’re on and they are missing the one that I am on.
I would like to write a normal post. But I don’t believe there is any such thing anymore. Why are my photos tagged screenshot?
I just had to delete a list of freeloaders on my widgets ( the directional columns on the left), I don’t know these people. I don’t want to know them. I don’t want to be a springboard for other people’s scams and marketing tactics. I pay for this blog. I pay for it to be free of advertisements.
In the beginning, I wrote about being free of alcohol and I was loaded down with Vodka ads. I couldn’t have that.
I have never participated on this site to try and make money. And I darn sure don’t need a machine to do my writing for me. I don’t need a machine to create art or to play music. Sorry y’all but I am bored to tears when you are on stage musically masturbating with your gadgets. And then it all sounds the same. Every song. No soul.
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE is taking over.
Many have jumped on board. The blog posts are often appalling.
Continue reading Escape ?
Fish Eye Farm 