by CD-W
Because even “Real” boys like puppet shows
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Monthly Archives: May 2017
Artist uses little everyday items to create something else
A new follower posted this and I LOVE it!!
Artist uses little everyday items to create something else
In her series 100 Days of Tiny Things, artist Desirée De León challenges her imagination by creating a hundred ink drawings with small everyday objects.
Currently a neuroscience student in Atlanta, the artist says she is continually “inspired by the inspired by the complexities of the brain and the possibilities of a blank canvas.”
Her works reflect this passion, with items like pieces of fruit and flower petals turned into completely something else. For instance, the pointy end of a crayon becomes a garden gnome’s hat, while blue petals are turned into Marge Simpson’s hair.
h/t: Lost At E Minor
Firing Squad
The officer turned to Sadie. “Miss, get up now. We need to ask you some questions. City Hall is only a short walk.”
Sadie gripped the edge of the table as if nailed there. “But I didn’t do anything wrong. I found this the night of the meeting. Meta?” Her eyes begged for help.
What could I do besides sit with my mouth open? I forced myself to stand and offered Sadie my hand. “It will be all right. I’m sure it won’t take long to answer their questions. You’ll be home before you know it.” With afterthought, I turned to the officer. “Sir, doesn’t Sheriff Tobin have jurisdiction over this county?” An elected official always had command over a hired police force.
Ignoring me, the officer grimaced at Sadie, his fingers resting atop his cudgel. “What’s your name, Miss?”
Sadie creaked out of her chair like a woman twice her age. “Miss Sadie Dubois,” she said, her voice low.
“And where do you live, Miss Dubois?”
Again, Sadie stared at me for support.
“Sir, we live at the corner of Durango and San Saba,” I said, not giving away the proprietor or Sadie’s profession.
He tilted his head upward as if picturing the city streets. A slight grin crept up one side of his mouth. “I’d say it’s time for us to take a walk.”
I followed behind a slumping Sadie. Outside, the fresh air did nothing to help my breathing. The officer held fast to Sadie’s elbow and pulled her toward the courthouse. The Temperance women, glued to Sadie’s heels, followed behind like a firing squad taking a prisoner to her Final destination.
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
It’s happy hour here in Texas
That means it’s time to dance on a martini glass. Care to join me?
by CD-W
Learning to forgive
by CD-W
Separate but (not treated) Equal
After Isaac puts the Pontiac in neutral and maneuvers it out on the driveway, he asks me to hand him a screwdriver. He tightens some do-ma-hickey then replaces the battery with the one he picked up at the local auto part’s store.
“You sure know a lot about a lot of things, Isaac Ford,” I tell him. “And don’t dare say anything stupid like, ‘so you think I’m smarter than the average colored boy.’”
“I read a lot. And my mama teaches at my school. The Academy for Black Youth in case you’re wondering.”
“We don’t have any Negros in my school. Not because they can’t come but because most of them live across town.”
“Separate but Equal,” he says, shaking his head.
I think of my summer reading assignment — A Separate Peace.
“Thing is, Chicken Coop. I want to make something of myself. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out how. I can’t play music, I don’t want to be a preacher—”
“Then do something else. Be a mechanic. Be a teacher. Be whatever you want.”
“Okay. I’ll be a surgeon. After they let me in a university because of my a-Maze-ing chemistry and biology grades, I graduate. Then, I look for a job that will hire a colored surgeon. And, if I’m lucky enough to land that job, white folks will say, ‘I don’t want some colored boy operating on me.’ Then, I’m back where I started. Without a job.”
“You’re so cynical, Isaac.”
“Cynical?” He points a finger at my chest. “You know nothing. Nothing! What do I have to be cheery-faced about? Huh? That I can fix a goddam car? Tell Olvie it’s ready. She can drive it in the garage her own damn self. I’m going home.”
From my WIP about forging friendships during the Civil Rights Movement (1963)
Parenthood
Definition:
noun
a journey through a Maze of obstacles; a state of jumping over hurdles to protect one’s child; a wonderful and amazing adventure!
CD-W
Ugh …
Usually in Texas, when women talk about “hail damage,” it’s about cellulite. Good evening, May 11th hail. You may leave now.
No Title Needed
Capital Region in Copenhagen, Denmark
We remember you, young one
Reflecting on the past so we will never forget.
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 