MJS Creative Landing

At one point in my life I fashioned myself interested in Philosophy. I tended to lean toward Existentialism and Post-Structuralism with a dash of residual El Hajj Mailk Shabazz mixed with some W.E.B. Du Bois, but I got passed that. Nihilism is the belief that all values are baseless and that nothing can be known or communicated and is often associated with pessimism and radical skepticism that condemns existence... (and thus condemns itself-added by me). Granted there is literature that puts nihilism in two categories: Passive and Active. Read more for yourself. To make this short,- Belief and Faith are at a cross roads and one can be denied allowing the other to dominate one's life. I can believe that something is something without giving myself to it. I can have faith that something is something surrendering to the possibility that the outcome doesn't matter as long as I am at peace and rested in the fact that I have acceptance, on a level, that Belief in and of itself...

Shirts or skins - Where do I begin you got Clavin - I got Ben Going back to 9 or is it 10 years old flat chested games I'm in No one told me not to Forget that fact that I thought I ought to Rough and tumble pitch and toss Drawing up plays like I'm a boss Never thought a girl would make 'em flinch them boys on my team dipped and slipped Oops didn't mean your embarrassment but I did; can't lie,- I did; I did Turning tides to the round ball didn't miss a beat Tomboys are always on the street Those were the days I can't deny Free and frank and bold was I I always got picked for the teams make a free throw and you the queen You got Calvin - I got Ben then came the time to win again Those were the days I can't deny Skins or Shirts and free was I  

... One is silver and the other's gold. I learned this song when I was around 9 or 10 years old. Throughout the decades, friends have come and gone. These friends were all ages from 3 years old to 108. Some friends I have lost through death... I cherish those 9 years of sharing life with my 108 year old friend. She passed a little over 3 years ago. What a go getter she was. She gave up driving at 99 when she had a close call leaving the Dairy Queen parking lot. She moved to my hometown to be close to her daughters a month shy of 100. She didn't start using a walker until 103. I made friends with a three year old as she read the New York Times while on her knees on her family's couch. She put the paper down for a moment to show me how she could stand her cat, "Edmund Pettus", up on his "haunches!" Oh, My!  These words coming from this 3 year old... I thought to myself. She is a keeper. She will soon be 29 years old, and we still keep in touch. It is impor...

https://youtu.be/fR2z2t_8sZ8 https://youtu.be/DlY0gwR75tc

Got a shovel I've been digging Don't know what exactly I'm suppose to bury On the ledge legs a swinging whi-st-ling a tune that found me lit'l unaware Chambers fill-in' up real fast now hard to catch ya breath when water's everywhere Unmoved which way is there to travel Unbothered floundering lost sight of all the sea Unmoved when that gust of wind gone take me take me to another place away from here

It may not last! It may not work out! So what Let's hear it for the naysayers raise a glass to the wet blankets and dream killers

All things must come to an end. Today I am ending the chore, the commitment of writing everyday. Well, sort of. I will write, but just not in this space everyday. Blessings~

Huck Hugh the town idiot strapped a pillow case where within was a rubber ball to his head and fashioned himself to prance along the lane and jump down the town's only well. As he went careening down the well, we all hear a loud splash and then a thud.  Rosemary Raspberry delighted in the possibility of having work for her undertaker father. Soon we all hear, "I'm al'right." Huck Hugh uncrumbled himself from the fall. "I rather thought the well was deeper than it is."  Buttercup Buttons darts over with a long rope and drops it down the well to Hugh. "Oh, Dear! Oh, Dear," she exclaims. Buttercup was large and girthy. She is rumored to have lifted the Troptop's cow out of a  ditch single handedly after the rains washed the poor heifer away. The cow, not Buttercup. Rosemary Raspberry's smile soon withers into a frown. She turns back to the mortuary stamping her feet with steady disappointment.  You see her father dotes on her rather lavis...

I had dinner with my sister last night. She has been encouraging me to write along with other folks. I told her I had lots of stuff written. She then goes on to tell me, "well you already should have your book." I agree to just agree. It has been some time since I have had the inner will to pursue writing as a career. I have another blog I pulled up to remind her that there was a time when I wrote about other things that interested me that had facts and references. I guess I just personally stopped believing in the ability to change things with information that must be read.  Here is a post http://changestobelieve.blogspot.com/ I am trying to believe again. Tuesday, March 31, 2009 Mayor Cory Booker article- Listen Waco Here is an example of leadership in a mayoral fashion from our friends to the north. Waco can take some notes. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lanny-davis/the-purple-leadership-of_b_180795.html I have longed to see viable changes and recognizable investments in g...

Under the cover of darkness waves of lush gale winds softly graze my skin the night is apt to give warm hugs for long seconds while I drape myself across the porch swing the dampness in the air does not distract the lightning bugs flash on and off and on and off I am tempted to gather them in jars as we once scurried to do as children Its nice No one is moving about the city streets no random kitties or pups running stray the lights in the sky are as glints in bright eyes of babes Drawn to a long yawn and a curling of the neck and the stretching of the legs fresh rains have cleared and cleansed all places fresh mowed grass fills the evening air the rains and showers will come again soon peace is abounding

Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way was recommended to me about 20 years ago. I spent a few years doing the Morning Pages which is a journal that accompanies the primary book. From what I can tell, I journaled from 2002 to 2005, from 2007 to 2011 and I am going to pick it back up again. Part of the process of the Morning Pages is that you do not go back and re-read what you wrote. It is just a mind dumping process. Dump first thing in the morning onto three pages. You do not judge the writing, the penmanship, the poor grammar or misspelled words or yourself. You just write and close the journal until the next day. I have taken a few of these journals off the shelf, and dare I say I am like, "Who is this person?" Not in a bad way, but there was a freedom in those pages that is not here with me presently. I guess I was so much in need of dumping after 30 years of living that I allowed it all to just fall onto the pages. Like taunt boils or festering wounds, it was easier ...

The Summer of 1981 a 15 year old boy was found after a long and exhaustive search. The young black child was from a good family on the east side of town. He was their only son. The police report said that there were no defensive wounds on the body. Which is odd because he was found locked in a refrigerator. Just being desperate to live would have had me pounding and kicking to try to get free if indeed the fridge closed on me. The officers deduced that he was looking for a warm place to rest since it was a cold night. But the boy was alerted as missing earlier in the afternoon of the day he went missing. Since the Lion's Pool story I am writing will probably included this incident, I am going to try to find out more about this story. The Waco Citizen Newspaper which is not the major paper of the town is the only paper that reported on this story. Again, this leads me to believe that there is more to this story than meets the eye. Supposedly, we local blacks have always told the tal...

 Oh Dear! I do not want to write today. What's that you say? Not Write TODAY? That's right. I said, "I do not want to write today." But you must! Why must I? You must!!! Well, now that you put it like that!!! I guess I must. Trust you must!!! Trust? Yes, Trust! I'd rather fuss! If you must! I will write. Now there! Is this enough!!! Well, maybe! I guess. So there!

EXT: Montage of children running from school bus to houses. Sung playing is sort of like Papa Was A Rolling Stone. INT: Front Porch/Living Room Momma Don't let that door slam. INT: Children dropping bags and running to rooms. Boom! Door slams. Children Any kool-aid? INT: Livingroom Rotary Phone with a finger dialing seven times- two heads get close together to listen. Phone Recording The day is Monday August 4th. The temp is 94 degrees. The time is (click)... Child 2 "It's just 94 degrees!" 2 Children Ahhh Child 4 Ahh Child 4 Let's go get the water hose! EXT: Children run out the door. Someone turns the faucet on as water eases out from both ends of the faucet.The hose springs forth water. Two children run by the water as one child presses a thumb over the spout of the hose. INT: Laughter ensues. A mother looks out the window and smiles at the kids playing. Aunt Tiny You told them you won't take them to the pool until it gets a hundred, huh? Momma They fine ou...

There are all sorts of stories unfolding right now. I have written a few in the past and will write some more in the future, Lord willing. At present this is a story unfolding right before my very eyes. I have yet to go back and fully edit all these posts on this blog or on any of my other blogs. "I am writing," I tell myself; "I am not editing." Be that as it may I think even as we are living we don't get all the editing done. We don't get all the writing done. We try to scratch things out and add things in to our days. We correct ourselves or others or our spaces or other people's spaces. It is the never ending story and the never ending editing and abridging of it all. The adding of footnotes and references and amendments and annotations continue on. As we move along life's journey, I encourage folks to write their stories. Who else is going to tell them the way you see it. Write the best you can. Offer what ever it is that is to be offered. Is is...

Silence. Silence. Silence. Golden. Golden. Golden. Wait. Wait. Wait. Be. Lifted. Be Lifted. Be Lifted. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Peaceful. Peaceful. Peaceful. Rest. Rest. Rest. Know. Know. Know. Receive. Receive. Receive. Thankful. Thankful. Thankful. Grateful. Grateful. Grateful. Mercy. Mercy. Mercy. Grace. Grace. Grace. Live. Love. Be.

Trying times! Times are trying for a few people. I share your frustration. I share your anger. I share your befuddlement. I share your grief. I share your lack of understanding. I share your confusion. I know what it's like to be stumped. I share your desire to check out. I share your need to give up. I share your need to check out. I share your desire to live inside your head. I share the need to bury yourself in your bed. I share your need to take a long walk, a long shower, a long nap. I share your thoughts about lighting up, tipping that bottle, or taking that pill. I know what it's like Ms. Celie!!!! Just spoke with my adorable younger cousin who is in the middle of all sorts of drama... husband, in-laws, parents, siblings, teen children, tween children, and life on top of life on top of life. I asked her if her support system is holding up for her in Virginia? She said it is, but she is still exhausted and overwhelmed. I asked her if it was ok for her to feel the way she ...

My tweezers are missing. I am not the one directly responsible for the tweezers being missing. Though often I will hold myself totally responsible for household disasters because I believe that I can and could have overcome any future disaster if I plan for any and all future disasters before they happen. I have that ability, that power, that super power if you will. Like knowing to put my trash can in a closet if a guest brings their dog over. Or, putting up my musical instruments if I expect children over. I observe the behaviors of people and try to pin down their propensities. I study their choices and their shortcomings, the insecurities and those words they like to hear that bring smiles and laughter. I look into their beings as best I can trying to discern how to keep them from disturbing me and my peace of mind. I engage in an intimacy that others are scant aware of, but are the fortunate ones to receive the gift of. I pay attention. I have the skill of attentiveness, care and ...

Before an instrument is played, there is a moment of anticipation. When a hush comes over the room and the breathing begins to still, an inflection point of near silent harmony arises. And then the note comes forth and slowly an exhale slips through the atmosphere. It can be glorious. For some the wait is prolonged and the note seems to never arise into the living breathing world of sight and sound. It tarries, held back in that place where origins are origins and endings don't exist. Stopped from processions and willed to refrain, the notes uninformed yet knowing they are a real something, a creation as a vapor eager to join the chorus of all creatures here below. The in between can be the hardest, though. The in between can lull and rock and disappoint and shock. The in between can turn away or draw one in to contemplative meditation. There is that better place if rest is required before the thing comes. In between can be the calm before the storm. And once it occurs we might be ...