a small town flag

Dansville, VA
A border town between North Carolina & Virginia. Circa, 1728. But incorporated only after the revolution–a confederacy of a town. Large tobacco plantation gave way to manufacturing until that moved out of town too. Several centuries of rural poverty, juxtaposed with white owners.confederate flag.jpg
Met Cory a boy of about 17, a waiter at a local music and food, laminated menu type of place.
Very handsome young man, with an identifiable cultural heritage that hangs on in his language. “Yes sir, no sir, right away sir.” An unnatural deference, he even bowed his head as he finished taking my cheeseburger order.
I asked him what he thought I was talking about when I said “the place had a deeply southern feeling.” He knew right away. He had been up north and said he himself noticed that there was a suspicious respect that he paid that ran deep. I remember thinking before I spoke with him that he was a “black boy” and I was an old white guy.
We made a connection. I liked him and I could tell that he liked me.
He smiled wide, brought the check and I tipped him well.
He had moved away from that town but was not sure why he had moved back.
“Do you like living here,” I asked?  He made an ambivalent face and said, “I guess so.”

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Robbin’s Egg Blue

 

The art of writing and the creative images that convey thought and feeling have been a part of my mind’s eye since I can remember.  Fantasy, hope, and illusion combine to create graphic narratives.  Words and images convey, they are the hieroglyphics of our modern-day Calligraphy.  I have evolved to become a scribe, a note taker, a disseminator of solitary perception.  I write in the-good-chance that another will find his way,  her own solace through describing my own neuro-pathways through evolution.

I have long felt that love or disdain occur at first sight.  What ever it is that we find either beautiful or truthful, can not be dismantled easily.  I see below, children at play, and colors that remind me of spring, along with a glow that permeates the air of summer.

Fantasies of love and lust are awakened by sensations of warmth and dampened by visions of coldness.  The image below, (My Lake, Watchaug),  draws me into a space that I can let myself belong to.

Belonging to is a step toward actualization.  It is a comfortable step where we can pause for as long as we like and absorb the nearness of eternity through our understanding of nature’s cycles and nature’s own evolution.

Sunsets are a most serene way of acknowledging the inevitabilities of life which include the end of it.  The final step into an eternity of forgetting everything we ever knew forever.  In the meantime, Stealing Beauty is an admirable art form…

I seek like-mindednessin golden pond-1-Edit3.jpgRobin’s Egg Blue