My Holiday Love

I know that many focus on different things during the holiday season. As we are different people with different backgrounds and interests, our tastes are destined to be different. Me? I love the decor. I love the music. I love driving around and seeing other people's lights (because I'm too lazy to deck the outside of my house). But I think what I love most about the holiday season are the shows. The Nutcracker, The Trans-Siberian Orchestra (though they are not coming to my neck of the woods this year), The Symphony. The same shows every year, but because they only play during the holiday season, they are something I look forward to year after year. This year, I get to treat myself and my mom to The Lion King! I literally cannot wait. I bought my tickets 9 months ago and have been sitting on them looking forward to this weekend all year long. Now, it's just a few days away and I am excited to see it. I'm excited for my mom to see it with me. I love being able to share things like this with her. After that, it's Christmas parties and social gatherings and OH! I'm going to Christmas Town this year! I can't wait to see that and to take some pics to enhance my own display at home! To be completely surrounded by the sights and sounds of Christmas in...get this...GERMANY!!!! I couldn't believe when I saw that was the theme for this year. I'll do a blog later about my love of German and Russian history and where that came from, but that is nothing short of the bee's knees for me and I am super excited! Keeping in mind what this season means for me, both as a Christian and as a lover of wonder and fantasy makes this season an awesome experience...even if it got here so fast that it feels like it just left.

Such a loss

Tonight I lost a near and dear friend. I am positively numb right now. I can't feel anything. My arms, my legs, my head...all numb. I don't want to sleep & I can't believe that he isn't here anymore. I can't believe that I'll never hug him again. I'll never hear his laughter or see his smile. I'll never watch him saunter/strut around the grounds at church anymore. I don't know if this hurts the same or more than it did when I lost my step-dad. My step-dad was sick for a year before he died. My friend was sick for 2 weeks. And now he's gone. I was talking to him last night, going over the football scores, and tonight he's gone. I gave him a hug and a kiss last night before I left his room, and tonight he's gone. All I feel is that he's gone. I've lost. His wife has lost. His kids have lost. His grand kids have lost. He was my extra dad. My backup plan. I dreamed of him walking me down the aisle if I ever got married (since my dad & I don't have the best relationship). I dreamed of him holding my future children and caring for them and being an example to them of what it really meant to be a strong, black, caring man. Now I have none of that. I didn't have 1 dream for my near future that he wasn't in. I feel like I've lost a part of me. A piece of my heart. He means so much to me and now he's gone. And I'm at a loss. I don't even know what else to say. I spent the whole day helping his family and I'm just getting to deal with me. I feel alone. Empty. Lost.

Breaking Dawn (Spoilers!!)

So I finished the last novel in the Twilight series last night & I must say, I really enjoyed it. Coming from my standpoint, I can't see why so many people had issues with this final book. My only "issue" so-to-speak is that it was sooo long. She could have truly gotten 2 or even 3 books out of that 1 novel. But she chose not to & I read it so...issue squashed. There were many things I truly liked about this story. Number 1, it goes so easily into non-sleeping vampire Bella that I didn't realize for a long while that, while Jacob and the baby slept, she didn't. Duh, that's part of the vampire twist in this book! I loved the whole birth and changing scene! It did great for allowing me to use my imagination and I actually it twice. The other transition that was so smooth that I almost missed it was them calling Bella's ability to block out everyone, or not be read by anyone, a "shield." By the time I realized it they were prepping for battle. I could keep going on. The battle/showdown was really good and gave a distinct look at the corruption of the volturri and an understanding of why Carlisle decided to part their company years ago. So, without giving too much away, the book was really good. Even though I didn't want to see the series end, the ending felt like the end. Like there was no need to go any further and no need to know anything else. After all, once Edward, Bella, Renesmee & Jacob are safe & all happily ever after, what else is there? How much attention could be gathered & kept in a story about any of the other characters, including Renesmee & Jacob, without Bella & Edward? I might pick the book up, but I don't know if I'm going to get that far in reading it. I read the whole book & the only part I truly focused on of Jacob's story was Renesmee's birth...because that involved Bella. Now don't get me wrong, I remember his whole story, but his voice, his mindset wasn't as enthralling as Bella's. So, I'm going to let this go. All in all, I am glad that I decided to pick the books up and read them. I'm glad they were different from the other stories out there and I'm glad I read and remember them from cover to cover...I think! Next...The Passage by John Cronin. There are a few books in between, but that's the next vampire book I'm slated to read.

Can't All Be The Same

So, one of the things I have noticed as I read books & read reviews of books by regular readers just like me is that many people complain or take issue with the fact that books are not written as they expect or as they want them to be written. Now, don't get me wrong, a bad read is a bad read, any way you slice it, but a good or decent read that has deviated from the norm is not a reason to trash a book...is it? Case in point, I have been reading the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer & am on the 4Th book right now. My only issue with the book is that it is sooooo long! It truly could have been 3 books. And I have found myself needing to take a break after reading it for 3 1/2 days & not being done yet! That doesn't normally happen. I read The Good House by Tananarive Due cover to cover until I was done. Granted it took me about 3 weeks to do so, but I did it without feeling tired or overwhelmed by the story. To be completely honest, the only thing that is overwhelming me about Breaking Dawn is that I truly want to know what happens at the end of the book without flipping ahead (reading on my Kindle keeps me from doing that). Now I haven't finished the book, but as I read the reviews from others who have, I pretty much see the same complaints all the way around: Its not believable because its so different from other vampire stories; it's harder to enjoy because Bella seems so desperate, etc. Other people have just said its a piece of shit and they hated it (mind you they read and/or bought the 3 others). My point is this: Why or HOW can you enjoy reading the same thing over & over again? One of the things that I appreciate about the book is that it is different from the typical vampire stories. BTW, let me clarify that vampires are not real, so criticizing a fictional story for being unrealistic is just retarded! But, back to my point, these stories are written differently, primarily because of the audience that they were written for. Typically, a vamp bite with the exchange of blood does the trick for conversion. Typically, vampires are extremely sexual beings (excluding Louie from the dear Anne Rice) & are very much into satisfaction and are able to do so without damaging their guest for the night. But in this series, there's no need for the exchange of blood, there are "vegetarian" vamps who can't have sex with humans because they may break them to bits. I say this to say that I think readers (movie watchers, TV viewers, etc.) should be careful of how they criticize and what they criticize for. It seems a little counterproductive to complain & shoot down a book because the author chose to tell a story in a different way or create a story like no one has ever heard before. Isn't that what art is all about? And to add to that, I think that the complaints that folk have would be lessened greatly if the series were not such a hit. We still are a society that works to shoot down that which is lifted up, regardless of who it impacts. Having said that, let me make it clear, there are books I have read that have not enjoyed. But that is primarily because they were not written well. However, there are other readers who don't agree with me. For example, I read Timothy McCann's Forever & that was enough to let me know I didn't want to read anything else by him. On the other hand, I read The Other Woman by Eric Jerome Dickey on a loan, loved it, went out and bought Genevieve...didn't love it so much. I don't know where I wanted to go with that now, but I think my point is that some you take, some you leave, but just because you want to leave it, doesn't mean that it won't be taken by someone else.

More

This past weekend I went to a jazz fest here in Richmond. Let me preface this by saying I have never...NEVER...been to a jazz fest before in my life! As much as I love jazz & as much as I have listened to jazz I have had the opportunity to see it played live, in person, played by its original composer/musician little to no times. I'm sitting here trying to think of one time and, beyond seeing Anita Baker back in the 90's, I am coming up empty. The reason why has nothing to do with money & everything to do with timing. For some reason, the majority of the jazz fests that take place around my locale tend to fall on the 3rd Sunday, which is the Sunday I sing at my church. I'm don't like to miss that because its the one thing that I LOOOOVE to offer God whenever I can. Anywho, I was able to go to this one because it was in my city and I was able to rehearse & sing on Saturday & Sunday and still go and I had wonderful friends who were willing to foot the bill for me, as my funds were awfully low. So this past weekend I got to see Norman Brown, Chaka Kahn, Chuck Mangione & Boney James. All artists whom I have listened to for years and 2 of whom I have adored & treasured since I was a kid (Chaka & Chuck). On top of that, I was able to see and hear some people I've never heard before. Marcus Johnson, who's an awesome pianist. Ledisi, of whom I have heard but never really listened to because I don't like listening to the radio (too much repeat, too many commercials, too little variety). So overall, this past weekend was great (how many times have I said this?), but I came to the realization that I need more weekends like this. I don't get out enough. I don't allow myself to take advantage of the opportunities around me often enough for me to benefit from them in any way. I spend so much time doing things that don't really have anything to do with me & that would continue to function whether I was there or not, and not enough time doing things that I really would enjoy doing. Things that are different. Things that I need to do. I spend a lot of time thinking about what is and what isn't in my life. Where I am versus where I would like to be, held up against where I thought I would be by now. While I know there is nothing that I can do to change what has been done, I know that if I don't want my future to be the same as my past (which isn't bad) I need to change, I need to invite change & I need to accept change. I need to save for the shows I want to see. I need to save for the other jazz fests that happen withing 90 miles of my front door and make the time to go to them & enjoy them. I've been wanting to do the Dave Koz cruise for almost 4 years now. WHY HAVEN'T I GONE??? Partly because of the costs but mostly because I think about it, something else comes up and I push it to the side, never to think about it again until I hear about it on his web show. This has to stop! I have got to stop saying "I wanna" & start saying "I'm gonna" & frigging follow through. That's my commitment to myself. Rant over. Mind clear. Planning will commence tomorrow.

When Panic Sets In

Sooo this weekend I went to Boston for a reunion. First things first, I had an AWESOME time. It was my 1st time to Boston and there was so much to do in such a little bit of time, but I didn't feel too overwhelmed. It was a wonderful getaway...until I tried to get home. It is no secret to anyone that I hate flying...with a passion! I've been terrified of flying since I was a kid and PanAm starting dropping out of the sky and that plane of kids going to Europe crashed in the ocean. They never found all of the plane. Just bits & pieces. Anyway, those are the thoughts that plague my mind when the idea of flying crosses my mind. Waaaaaay in the back is the fear of a 9/11-type of event. Those unexplained crashes that nobody sees coming and no one understands, they stick out. Anyway, so I had fully prepped myself mentally & emotionally for taking an express flight to Boston and back home. Low & behold, my home-bound flight gets cancelled & I had to take 2 planes to get home 5 hours later than I was originally scheduled to get home. After I had a full on panic attack at the airport while my ticketing was altered by the rep, after calling my mom & crying in her ear for a couple of minutes and trying to get myself together, I get on the planes to get home. Thankfully, I arrived safely without incident, but I walked away from RIC feeling like a fool ultimately b/c not only did I lose my cool, but I lost it in a very public setting. The fact that I was miles away from home & without the help & comfort of my mom had a great deal to do with it, but I cannot remember being in a situation where I was such an emotional wreck and completely out of control (by my standards). I mean, I wasn't screaming or falling out of anything, but not being able to stop the flow of tears in a public setting (for someone who DOES NOT cry in public) was unnerving and quite humiliating. So the question I have more for myself than anyone else is, what do I need to do so that I don't lose my mind when panic and fear kick in? I hardly ever panic and I have 1 fear. I do often stress over things, but I can handle that, I deal with it all the time. Panic is new, uncharted territory that, to be quite honest, I'm not a fan of. Typically, when I stress, a book or a call to my mom, or music will calm me down. It took a long time for all of the above to take effect and reduce my level of anxiety. The fact of the matter is, I made it home safely. I've made it home safely each time I've flown, hence me still being here today, but that doesn't stop the fear and anxiety from presenting itself each time I even THINK about flying, much less get to the airport and wait for the plane to get in & take off. I need to figure out how to deal with this. I would hate to have my fear take over so much of my life that it continues to limit me. Let's face it, I haven't been anywhere that can't be reached rather quickly by car or bus in a long time. There are places I want to go & things I want to experience, but this fear of flying is seriously limiting me. I freaked a little bit traveling over the water on the way to Boston...how in the world am I going to handle the Atlantic whenever I make it to Germany? Lord help me!!!

Still Unreal

Even a year later it seems surreal that he's gone. I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news. Here we are, a year later and I still don't believe it and I don't feel any better about it. I can only imagine what his kids are going through. I know what its like to lose a parent, but to lose someone whom they would have spent almost every hour of every day with for all of their young lives is unfathomable. I still can't watch him in motion without welling up a bit. I can't look at him as the entertainer he is, the life force he gave and picture him forever motionless and decaying, never to sing another song, never put on another show. Never again. Even as I write this it doesn't all mesh together in my head. But I know he's gone. His life is over and I will never see him move as he is...only as he was. But it still doesn't seem real. Its been 1 year. 365 days. Yet I remember it like it was yesterday. It still doesn't seem real.

I don't know what to think...

So, I just finished reading Passin' by Karen Quninones Miller a few days ago and I am officially stuck. I don't now what to think or what to say. I know the thoughts that the idea of passing brings to my mind. I've had them before, I've thought about them when reading other books about the same act, though they are in different contexts. In this instance, its in today's time. This century, 2007-2008 to be exact and, for me, the idea of a black person making the conscious decision to pass, for whatever reason, stumps me mentally. Partially because I have truly not thought of a person opting to do that in today's time. I, like many of us, would like to think that the time where passing is needed has passed. We, as a race, don't face many of the issues in today's world that many of our parents grandparents and great grandparents faced. We can shop and try on clothes without being forced to buy them if we touch them. We can use the same public facilities as other races. We aren't forced to take on menial and often times manual labor jobs to support our families because of the color of our skin and what that implies for today society. Is it a perfect society? No. There are many faults that still exist, some by the thoughts of others and some by the thoughts of other African Americans. I'm also stumped because I truly cannot fathom denying, or taking the risk of having to deny, my family. I can't imagine taking the 1st gift my parents gave me, my name, and changing it to fit into someone else's mold of what a more proper, non-ethnic, name would be. Something that would otherwise be seen as so trivial, made such a difference in the story. The change of a name from Shanika, to Nikkie, to Nicole is a big step to being disassociated from those who raised you and loved your light, bright, damn near white tail from birth. So, those are a couple of the reasons why this book has stumped me. Not to mention that it ends so incompletely. I'm hoping there's a sequel somewhere because I was looking for more story...not the reading group discussion questions on the last page. But anyway, I'm still pondering this. Even as I read another book in my collection, I'm trying to make this book, which was a good read, make sense to me. I just can't imagine a black woman today, no matter how white she may look, choosing to pass. Especially when looking at the character in the book, who never hesitated to tell people as she was growing up that she was not white, she was black, born to 2 black parents. I just can't picture it. Probably because I've never encountered it personally. I've heard stories of people passing. I've heard of and read about the fear they always had of being found out, and in the days where there was no plastic surgery to hide the more ethnic features, that was a constant fear. The isolation that many of them felt after choosing, not to leave, but to abandon their families and relocate to keep the farce alive. I've heard it all. But none of it occurred in 2007. Heck, none of it occurred in 1987! I guess the sign of a good literary encounter is how long you think about it after the reading is done. If that is the case, this book is better than I thought it was...and I thought it was good, except for the ending. I do need to watch "Imitation of Life." I've never seen it. Never thought about seeing it. Its really not my kind of movie. But after reading this book, I think I need to have a seat and see how it goes. It's amazing, I never thought about the other passing story lines I've read so much as I have this one. But they were all set in the time between post slavery and pre-civil rights movement America. Are there more books out there based on this subject set in the time of the 21st century? I need to look into that as well.

The Wedding Singer...*SMH*

So, I went to see The Wedding Singer and hated almost every minute all of it. There isn't much I can say about it other than the male voices were great, the females...horrible! Imagine a cat that ate a mouse and both were trying to sing out of the same mouth at the same time. HORRIBLE! Reedy, nasal pitch that made my throat hurt. I'm glad I went to see it, simply to support the arts in my community so that more shows would come to this area, but I really didn't enjoy it thanks to those horrible female voices. In fact, the best part about the show was my $25 seat, high in the balcony, by myself (3800 capacity, 1100 tickets sold) = feeling like I bought out the theater for my own private showing of the musical. Bird's eye, center, direct view of the stage. That was great. If the night had been my seat, the male cast and the ushers it would have been great. Those doggone female cats wrecked the night for me.

Wicked Understudies for the Wicked Witches!

Sooo, I'm a little late in typing this bad boy up, but I have to get this one in before I go see yet another musical this week!! Last Sunday I took my mom and family friend to see Wicked: A New Musical at the Landmark here in Richmond. I was so excited to take them and I couldn't wait to see the cast once again myself. As this was my 2nd time seeing it on the road, I wanted to see the wonderful Marcie Dodd as Elphaba again as well as the person playing Glinda, who was different from the one in Norfolk last year. So, imagine my disappointment when we get there and I open my Playbill to find all these little inserts. Everyone who's been to a musical knows what that means....UNDERSTUDIES!!! I was so disappointed. My hopes were dashed a little bit before the lights even had the chance to dim. Then I had to do a little coaching for myself. I ran the things I know are true: The understudies/standbys have to be good at what they do, otherwise they wouldn't have been chosen. No one can be an understudy and suck, Broadway doesn't work that way. Marcie is the lead in a VERY taxing musical, there's no way she can sing every single show without rest. The understudy will be good. But it wasn't just Elphaba who was being played by the understudy. Elphaba, Glinda & Nessarose were played by understudies! The whole lead cast. And they were all GREAT! Anne Brummel (Elphaba) showed a much higher range than Marcie Dodd and absolutely gave me chills on her 1st big number "The Wizard & I." Michelle London (Glinda) wasn't as strong of a voice as the Glinda from Norfolk. She still had the wonerful upper range, but her lower range was not as bright or carrying. All in all, it was like seeing Wicked for the first time all over again! It was awesome!!! They were awesome. The audience was so caught up in what was going on and the collective gasp that came forth from every single person in the grand tier at least, was amazing when Elphaba sang "Defying Gravity." The lesson learned....Never doubt the strength of an understudy.

The Power of A Proofreader

There are few things that irritate me more than reading a mass produced piece of literature littered with errors. How this even occurs, I can't begin to understand. Even if an author submitted a book to a publisher full of errors, aren't there editors and/or proofreaders who preview the written material BEFORE it hits the press? If there are no proofreaders, I would love to stick my name in the hat to be one, especially after reading the last book I read. Written by one of my most favorite authors, the book Any Rich Man Will Do by Francis Ray was filled with so many 4Th Grade mistakes I should have read it with a red pen in hand! The mistakes in this book were so blatant that, if there was a proofreader employed in the publication process, they should be forced to return the money they were paid to do a job that they obviously did not do well. I really wish I could say that I'm exaggerating but, unfortunately, I cannot. If you don't believe me, read the book for yourself. While a Francis Ray story NEVER disappoints, the editing/proofreading that was supposed to be done, left a lot to be desired. From the omission of the "r" in "her" ("[She] wondered if he son"), to "than" being used when it should have been "then," to the wrong words being made plural ("often attended his schools assembly" instead of "school assemblies"). These are just some of the occurrences that showed up time and time again, page after page. I don't understand how so many errors made it to the mass-produced print copy and I wonder if, since I bought a copy from the 1st edition in 2005, the later editions have been corrected. I'm certainly not going to purchase a copy to find out, though. This is not the first time this has happened. I've read other books, by other authors that were littered with some of the same errors, this is just the most recent. I even highlighted errors in the first Brenda Jackson book I read. Perhaps what was most frustrating was that I'm a huge Francis Ray fan & I felt let down by whomever had the task of making sure that this story was in its best shape when it was printed. Maybe it was because the story was a really good story of redemption and an example of the Psalm passage "when my mother & father forsake me, the Lord with lift me up" & how people are sometimes placed in situations that they don't feel they deserve, just to be given another chance, and due to the errors I was repeatedly jolted from the story to correct what shouldn't have been incorrect in the first place. At any rate, what this has done is renew in me the desire to get into proofreading and see how I can make some additional funds doing something that is obviously, desperately needed, while also doing something I enjoy. Considering that many of the errors I find are discovered while simply reading a story, I would like to think that it may not be that hard. Of course, I could be wrong considering evidence to the contrary. But I am about to get really serious about looking into it and making it happen. Until then, I will keep my red pen handy. And to Francis Ray, should you read this, know that I continue to be a fan of your work. I would, however, look into who St. Martin's Press is using for editing and/proofing your work, because they aren't doing a good job. Or at least they weren't in 2005.

Marked for Change

I just finished reading Marked by P.C. & Kristin Cast. Which is my 2nd novel read for 2010...34 to go! Overall it was an interesting story & take on the world of vampyres. At one point it was taking me forever to read a couple of pages at a time, but after psyching myself out with an old, reliable trick that, for some reason, never fails, I managed to close out what was taking 2 months to read, in 2 days. If you plan to read this book, stop reading this now. Know that it was good, I liked it and move on. I guess what I'm saying is "spoiler alert." This book deals with very practical things that people tend to go through: Trying to be true to yourself, not being accepted by those who you love & care about & losing relationships that you thought would never go away, but ultimately finding a place that is all yours, where you can grow into who you are meant to be. In this case, it is a house/school for vampyres, but there are still real-life applications for many of the basic things that occur in this story. One that stuck out for me was Zoey having to deal with not only the transition of her remarrying, but that new marriage changing how her mom related to & treated her. On top of that, having to deal with this new father figure who, in order to play the role of the male in the house, found a way to make her mother OK with relinquishing not only the role she played as the family leader for 13yrs (Zoey is 16), but also made her content with having no true emotional attachment to her daughter. To be 16 & come to your mother after having been publicly marked for life (or death) as a vampyre & seek out her help, comfort & understanding after having your best friend & some other associates your age treat you like a freak, & your mom's response is not to comfort you or even ask how it happened, but to call up her husband, whom you don't like, & her prayer circle to attempt and exorcism on you. There are things explained in the storyline of this book that make such an attempt ridiculous. I, in no way doubt or scoff at the value & power of a real-life prayer group/circle. To not once hear your mother say that she loves you & will miss you, knowing that she will never see you again, is hard for any child to take, no matter their age. Add to that the fact that you now know that your life will never be the same & no matter what you do when you leave, no matter how well you prepare for your new existence, it could all end in your death. Imagine being a cancer/AIDS/lupus patient, or someone serving in the armed forces, in a combat or non-combat position. Imagine looking your mortality in the face & knowing that, no matter how many treatments or surgeries you have, no matter how many pills, injections, courses or drills you take, the end result is out of your control & ultimately, you may never see your death coming. On top of that, having been visibly branded as different so that, upon coming to this new environment, those who you now have to come to know & hopefully befriend, see you as weird & either gawk at you, treat you like a freak or are so nice to you that you know it isn't genuine. These are the things that Zoey had to face as a 16 yr old fledgling. Many adults would be completely intimidated & overwhelmed by this kind of experience. To have to face the uncertainty of a situation & then attempt to deal with it all on your own & succeed...& not die! Many adults are crumbling now under the uncertainty of today's condition &, when seeing that they can't handle it, have resorted to murder &/or suicide just to be rid of it. But as my mom has often said, suicide is a permanent end to a temporary situation. Ultimately, Zoey finds that she can & must rely on her new friends & a spirit guide to help her get through & deal with what she will encounter in her new life. The same is true for me (& you, if you agree). I(we) must learn to rely & depend on God to help me(us) deal with the daily struggles I(we) encounter. And I(we) have to learn that its OK to, not only ask the friends & support system that He has blessed me(us) with for help, but to trust that even when they have no answer, He always does & although the answer may not come right away or as I(we) want it to, it will & does come. I(We) just have to be on the lookout for it. And YES!!! I just went from talking about a vampyre book to talking about my God.

Snow Day

When I was young, I remember praying for a snow day. I remember sitting in Mrs. Fink's 1st grade class at Ratcliffe Elementary and being so upset at seeing the 1st snowflakes fall thru a translucent school window, versus being at home watching it out of my own bedroom window. Then I was upset because the snow started while I was at school, and then it started after LUNCH! So we couldn't even get the chance of leaving early. We didn't have many snow days when I was a kid. There were a few here and there. I remember hitting a patch of ice in the car with my Step-dad & getting stuck in my mom's car right outside our town home complex, but those were few & far between. There were plenty of days when we had freezing temperatures that made you think your fingers and toes were going to fall off. I remember coming home from school a couple of times and rushing to the sink to run warm water over my hands because, even with gloves on, I was scared I was getting frostbite. But not many snow days. I didn't even own a pair of snow boots until I graduated from college, and still didn't need them for about 6 yrs! The last major snow I remember hitting my area was during my junior year. Schools were shut down for more than a week and I had the rare luxury of being at home, which I loved. I had a little brother who hadn't seen a major snowfall like that before. I had TV to watch, books to read, games to play, music to listen to and, thanks to my parents, light housework to do. My mom didn't believe in being in the house for a whole day & not doing ANY housework. I say all of this because now, my city is experiencing more snow, back-to-back, than it has in years. Children and adults have been confined to their homes for 1-3 days at a time or longer and the chief complaint that I have seen & heard is that they are BORED!!! Seriously?! Being bored in your own company is something I just don't understand. Who knows you better than you? Who better to entertain you & keep you busy than yourself? Why is that, of all things, we are rarely prepared to keep ourselves company or occupied? I guess a better question is why are we not prepared to be alone? Maybe I'm crazy, or I'm just used to myself and being by myself, but after being in the house for 2 days straight I crocheted 3 hats, caught up on missed episodes of Dollhouse, Private Practice, Ghost Whisperer & Oprah. Watched Kung Fu Panda, which I'd had from Netflix since 2 weeks before Christmas. Washed clothes, played video games, read some of Marked (which is becoming hard to finish), and of course, watched cartoons & a little news. I took the Buffinator our to play in the snow and talked to my mom on the phone. I had PLENTY to do,without the thought or feeling of boredom. Is that so abnormal? Maybe its because I'm not home for long periods on a regular basis that I love being able to sit at home & spend my time, my way. Snow days make my house sing to me that I can make myself at home cuz I'm welcome. Today is a snow day. Tomorrow will be too. I'm excited at the prospect. Not many of my friends are.

My Firsts

Since I'm starting at the beginning of my art experience, I figured i would share my first "wow" moments dealing with books and music. The first real-deal musical (other than Sesame Street) that I remember seeing was Sarafina. The story truly captivated me and actually brought about my first involvement of world matters/affairs. I couldn't have been older than 9 at the time and the musical was making its way through the States when Apartheid was a major issue in South Africa. This musical helped me to see how bad things were and helped me to understand them a little more than I did from simply watching the news or hearing my Pastor talk about it at church. To see at story unfold focused, not on adults who were suffering and hurting but children in Soweto who were struggling to grow and mature in a culture that through riots and random acts of hatred, was robbing some of them of their childhood and others of their lives was a true wake up moment for me.I got to see the musical courtesy of my Step-dad and mom. I remember walking into the Carpenter Center in Downtown Richmond and at 1st glance thinking the stage was pretty barren. But as the musical went on, the scarcity of an elaborate setting of props was forgotten. They were simple and well fitting so as not to take away from the story, the strength of the plot and the strength of the cast, who were mostly kids and had grown up in the Apartheid society of South Africa. I saw Sarafina about 20 years ago and I still remember it to this day as a musical that greatly impacted how I see the world and the issues of other countries. The first book that really drew me in was The Dollhouse Murders by Betty Ren Wright. This was one of those books that I ended up reading long before I was supposed to, based on the reading guidelines for Elementary School at the time. I read it in 3rd grade. This was my first supernatural/haunting book and the onset of what has been called a very twisted reading life by some. I have a story about a 12 year old girl who finds a hidden dollhouse where the dolls move on their own & play out a murder that was a family mystery from 3 generations prior was more than any of my friends were reading at the time. But it was awesome for me. I read it in 2 days and thanks to that book, I came to Octavia Butler, Tananarive Due, Anne Rice and many others. I didn't see my 1st opera until I was in the 11Th grade. For someone who had been singing for almost as long as I could talk, I had never been opened up to the world of opera until it was almost time for me to graduate, thanks to my 11Th grade chorus teacher. The opera was Lucia di Lammermoor by Donizetti. All I remember thinking was that opera was GREAT for drama queens. The love triangle. The fights. The deaths. The suicide. Set to music...AWESOME!!

These were my first experiences that lead me to be the avid reader and lover of music that I am today. These helped me want to continue, want to see more, want to do more and want to be more. That's it for the past. Now, for now...

Let's Start At the Very Beginning

Music and books have been a part of my life for longer than I can remember. My mom would spend the precious minutes, that I tried to use NOT going to bed, reading to me some nights and singing hymns to me the other nights. That simple start spring boarded me into the love I currently have for the musical and literary worlds. I would spend every moment possible listening to music, reading books or trying (badly) to write my own. I would fall asleep reading a book and wake up playing the radio. I would read in school and listen to music on the way to daycare and home. My mom would play her radio and I would hear a little rock, some R&B, some gospel or some country (those were the major genres back in the 80's) and as I got older, I added rap and later, classical. I would hijack my mom's 8-tracks and cassette tapes (which I still have today). I would read whatever books I could get my hands on. From fairy tales to adventure to a little horror. My mom kept appropriate reading materials on hand at all times, and what she didn't get for me, I got from the library. By the time I was 9 I had exhausted my personal and school library options and began spending time at my local public library. I still use my original library card to this day. It has one heck of a split in it, it I think it looks pretty good to be 21 years old. I took every chance I could get to sing. From school choruses to church choirs. Thanks to being active in music, I developed a love for most of the genres played. I never got into rock, however I loooove the power of an electric guitar. So, this is how my "me" began. Full of music and books. Loving them helped me come to love many other forms of art and expression as I have grown. Because of my simple beginnings, I have a great passion for the two of them to this day. They are what I love and what I live. And I love living them.