Papa rolled his stones. Six feet under and no one was thinking about him. MaMa was hanging on. She rolled in dough. Controlling with the point of a finger, a smile, good food, love, narcotics and alcohol. That’s the way I remember it. That’s two fascinating people right there.
3129 Phyllis St.
I travel south
down the river
in the morning
Crackers eat oatmeal for breakfast
Four roses are in the front yard
Saddle soap in the back
I climb
the steps
at noon
Where the crackers meet for lunch
Eat biscuits with gravy
She plays cards with a blind man
They laugh and tell – old stories
The sun follows I-10
and rests
behind Phyllis St.
Ponies walk for miles in circles
Gators mate
Boats float
Flamingos eat shrimp and die
I run
to the streets
in my twilight
Away from the crackers – Oatmeal shrimp – biscuits and gravy
The roses died – the saddle dried
The boat sunk
The blindman got lasix
I survive
Somewhere in the South
My mother would drive us out of the swamp, to the ocean once a year. Then in 1966 she bought the beach house. – she kept one hand on an oak tree and the other on a palm – thank you Mama – Now I get to pass it on. It’s not for everybody. Thank God ~
What is your reality?
Do you live in love and kindness? Are you surrounded by people that care for you and support your endeavors?
If you are unhappy in your existence, can you change it?
Can you walk into the unknown?
Or are your feet, blocks of cement, and your mind a hamster wheel?
Be different – Dream Big
I have not been writing. I have been listening to talks by Dr. Joe Dispenza. What a gift. I have turned many corners, following my daughters passing. And I am now more committed than ever to live en -joy.
Life is not about never failing ~ but rising from every fall ~
I have been on the island, for 18 months. My daughter had cancer. A long fought battle to survive, ended two weeks ago. Life requires more than a will to live. She never did relinquish. Her body gave out.
She’s in my mind.
A friend wrote me a note saying; grief is pernicious.
I am going to clean my yard.
Keep on keeping on ~
These are photos from my instagram @everydaypaparazza. I accumulated 800 good photos. Photos of random people and those I know. It gave me energy and happiness. That mojo is gone. It got up and ran down the road. It died.
I am moving on.
Don’t wait. …
All of my photos. All, of the waves, I’ve ridden. The numerous adventures that I have been on. They seem distant and unreal.
But right now, I have more important things to do.
I am huddled up and hunkered down, with my daughter and my husband. We are on an adventure of sorts. All time, is a happening. Moments and events to be remembered.
From past experiences, I know, that what I want to return to, is no longer there. Dreams are eroded, repeatedly. But that has never stopped me from creating more.
When your glass castle, becomes concrete. Sit on it. It will soon turn to illusion.
center |ˈsentər| (Brit. centre
verb
1 [ no obj. ] (center around/on or center something around/on) have or cause to have something as (a major concern or theme): the case centers around the couple’s adopted children | the plot centers on two young men | [ with obj. ] : he is centering his discussion on an analysis of patterns of mortality.
• (be centered in) (of an activity) occur mainly in or around (a specified place): the mercantile association was centered in northern Germany.
2 [ with obj. ] place in the middle: to center the needle, turn the knob.
• Football pass the ball back from the ground to another player to begin a down; snap.
I just finished watching the documentary of Joan Didion’s life ~ The Center Will Not Hold. Continue reading The Center
I never needed more than red, yellow and blue.
Rivas, Nicaragua
Fish Eye Farm 