Yes, I have Vampires on the brain. I have spent most of my free time lately working on my newest project, the Vampire Hunting Kit. Now some of you may balk at this, but Vampire Kits go back to the 1800's where they were sold to travellers who might be heading into questionable territory, especially areas with rumors of Vampiric activity. These kits were fantastic... each with diverse and yet similar implements of destruction. The most common kits included the crucifix, rosary holy water, garlic and of course a stake or two. Ones that were more involved contained black powder pistols that shot silver bullets as well as scary syringes with long rabies treatment type needles. My kit won't have a black powder pistol, but there may be something silver inside...
The kit also has a story. The Vampyre Hunter's Guide, which is included with the kit, was written by Thornton Barrett Conway in the 1800's and a mysterious letter was discovered in one of the kit's secret compartments that dated back to a time before Mr. Conway wrote his book of tips and instructions for Vampire Hunting. No one knows for certain the identity of the man that wrote this letter, but it is certain that the words recorded on its paper were the last ones he would ever write.
As you may see, I have spent most of my time focused on the kit, assembling the items necessary to include in the kit, drying out my own herbs, trying to get the courage to sneak into a Catholic church to fill a vial with holy water.... That's still on the list of things to do. So many little details that I, myself, feel a little mad with the entire process. I'll be ready soon to build the box and that is when the fun begins. Then... it won't be long at all. So, you Vampires of the world beware! Into every generation.... ah, you know the rest...
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Ophiuchus, or not to Ophiuchus?
For those who do not follow or believe in Astrology, this post will have little meaning for you. For those of us who believe in planetary influences and traits that have been handed down to us by the stars and the alignment of the sun, you may be in the same boat I am tonight. All my life I have considered myself a Sagittarius. It's what the books said, what the horoscopes said (which I actually dont' put any value into), and it's what the t-shirt said that I wore when I went on that long ago crabbing trip with my Granny, Paw Paw and Uncle Jody down in Delacroix when I was seven. All these years I've identified with the archer, agreed that Sagittariuses were disorganized and loved to travel. Now today, I find out that I am one of the many displaced Sag's shifted into this new and virtually unknown new sign and old constellation placed right between Scorpius and Sagittarius on the horizon, Ophiuchus. I think this is worse than merely having your sign shifted one way or another, I'm now a whole new unknown, the 13th sign.
What do they know about this Ophiuchus anyway? Hard to spell, harder to pronounce; the first human in the zodiac, a healer, a doctor who is destined to achieve great heights. Great. Is he a fire sign? Is he mutable or fixed? Is he ruled by Jupiter? I'm at a loss here. Thanks to the ancient Babylonians that cast out the 13th sign around 3,000 years ago, now today in 2010 we're all asking, what the ----? I'm not surprised they didn't want the 13th sign, they didn't want the 13th month either so we end up with the blue moon every year or so. Maybe now they'll put the 13th floor back in skyscrapers. The most dreaded part of all this, in my opinion, is that Ophiuchus is seen as the 'end of the world' or 'doomesday' sign. Should the events occur in 2012 that have been spoken of and some black hole / planetary disturbance begins, it will open directly in the middle of the Ophiuchus constellation. How ominous is that? The 13th sign, where the 13th month should be along with tidings of a potential black hole disaster that may have last visited earth when the dinosaurs were mysteriously wiped out. None of it bides well with me and I'm wondering what it all portends. There are some who wouldn't make much of this new information at all, there are some, who were Sagittarians before today that will always be Sagittarians. Does it make a difference if we were born when the sun and stars were still in alignment with the Sagittarius sun, or will it begin with those who were born after the shift. When was this elusive shift? Who will rewrite the books and how will they know what they are talking about? If the books and influences must be rewritten, than all signs will change. To make room for a 13th sign, then aspects of the other 12 must be shifted proportionately for all 13 to be accurate. It seems to make sense to me that way. Again, who will determine which traits fall under which specific alignments, should we go with the Japanese who have always held onto the 13 signs and see what their astrologers have to say? Should we all travel to Stonehenge and Avebury, sit inside the stone circles and see what the wheeling stars overhead have to contribute to these new factors?
I'd like to sit in the stone cirle of Stonehenge before the mouth of Ophiuchus opens up to swallow us whole. None of us know for sure what will happen on the winter solstice of 2012, we can't say for sure on that day or in the days that will follow. If the government won't admit to the accidental dispersant of biochemical agents that murdered all those birds in Alabama, Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana do we really believe that they will tell us that a great black hole is opening on our way to death and destruction? In the words of a song written by an old friend, "I'll see you all in hell, it will soon be 2012 I hope you packed a bag, why don't you tell a friend?"
So for those of you who woke up this morning with a new "identity," do you have anything to contribute to this story? Leave your comments below if you like. I'm sure I'm not the only one that feels a little lost. Especially all the new Ophiuchus' out there... we're like the blank slate in the universe of stars, even though Ophiuchus has his hand in the milky way.
What do they know about this Ophiuchus anyway? Hard to spell, harder to pronounce; the first human in the zodiac, a healer, a doctor who is destined to achieve great heights. Great. Is he a fire sign? Is he mutable or fixed? Is he ruled by Jupiter? I'm at a loss here. Thanks to the ancient Babylonians that cast out the 13th sign around 3,000 years ago, now today in 2010 we're all asking, what the ----? I'm not surprised they didn't want the 13th sign, they didn't want the 13th month either so we end up with the blue moon every year or so. Maybe now they'll put the 13th floor back in skyscrapers. The most dreaded part of all this, in my opinion, is that Ophiuchus is seen as the 'end of the world' or 'doomesday' sign. Should the events occur in 2012 that have been spoken of and some black hole / planetary disturbance begins, it will open directly in the middle of the Ophiuchus constellation. How ominous is that? The 13th sign, where the 13th month should be along with tidings of a potential black hole disaster that may have last visited earth when the dinosaurs were mysteriously wiped out. None of it bides well with me and I'm wondering what it all portends. There are some who wouldn't make much of this new information at all, there are some, who were Sagittarians before today that will always be Sagittarians. Does it make a difference if we were born when the sun and stars were still in alignment with the Sagittarius sun, or will it begin with those who were born after the shift. When was this elusive shift? Who will rewrite the books and how will they know what they are talking about? If the books and influences must be rewritten, than all signs will change. To make room for a 13th sign, then aspects of the other 12 must be shifted proportionately for all 13 to be accurate. It seems to make sense to me that way. Again, who will determine which traits fall under which specific alignments, should we go with the Japanese who have always held onto the 13 signs and see what their astrologers have to say? Should we all travel to Stonehenge and Avebury, sit inside the stone circles and see what the wheeling stars overhead have to contribute to these new factors?
I'd like to sit in the stone cirle of Stonehenge before the mouth of Ophiuchus opens up to swallow us whole. None of us know for sure what will happen on the winter solstice of 2012, we can't say for sure on that day or in the days that will follow. If the government won't admit to the accidental dispersant of biochemical agents that murdered all those birds in Alabama, Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana do we really believe that they will tell us that a great black hole is opening on our way to death and destruction? In the words of a song written by an old friend, "I'll see you all in hell, it will soon be 2012 I hope you packed a bag, why don't you tell a friend?"
So for those of you who woke up this morning with a new "identity," do you have anything to contribute to this story? Leave your comments below if you like. I'm sure I'm not the only one that feels a little lost. Especially all the new Ophiuchus' out there... we're like the blank slate in the universe of stars, even though Ophiuchus has his hand in the milky way.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
It's easy being Green
Well, the new year has come and gone. Another of my resolutions was to begin taking my woodworking career seriously. By this I mean my online business, The Green Dragon. Over the past few days I have turned out six brand new Vampire Stakes, so I'm off to a fairly good start. I started The Green Dragon website in 2005, two weeks before Hurricane Katrina came and ripped up this region by its roots. My career in woodworking goes back much farther than that. If you've read any of my previous blogs, you will know that I lived homeless in Atlanta and could not find a decent job. At that time I had only worked for fast food joints, a brief stint at Disney World and two years at Terror On Church Street, a year round haunted house in Orlando. What I'm trying to say is that I had no skills. These jobs all placed together in the experience section of a job application do not exactly speak of credibility. It was at this time of despair, once I retreated home to Louisiana, that I came up with the brilliant idea that I would build guitars for a living. It sounds fine in theory, but in practice, no professional guitar builder is willing to take a clueless girl into a shop who has only studied band saws and table saws in the context of a textbook, let alone teach her the fine secrets of the craft. In the end, I began looking into custom furniture shops, the concept is there, same tools, learn the trade, build guitars! This was in 1995. An older man by the name of Hugh Hogan took me on as an apprentice in his shop. He gave me a strong foundation in the craft and let me borrow tools to work on projects at home in my spare time. He had already apprenticed his two sons who had both gone on to have woodworking careers (One built a table for Sir Elton John) and he taught many of his grandchildren. In so many ways he was like a grandfather to me and I really owe everything I have learned over the years to his willingness to take a chance on this textbook kid.
My second lucky break was getting a job in Greenville, South Carolina with Michael McDunn. He is, by trade, what one would call a fine woodworker. He builds fantastically imaginative custom furniture and has an art gallery in the front of his business. The collective name for this venture is Michael P McDunn, Woodworking studio and art gallery. This man is incredible and it was from him that I learned to fine tune my trade, as he taught me to fine tune my chisels and scrapers to work perfectly. We used hand tools along with the standard power tools and created works of art from slabs of trees, tree trunks, found wood and amazing lumber from those southern Appalachians. I can't begin to say how much Mike influenced me over the four years that I worked for him. He took a rough, green carpenter and taught me how to fine tune, to make things absolutely perfect and to restore an antique piece to perfection, even if it arrived in pieces inside a large box. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Mike and his simple wisdom. "Bit by bit," he used to tell me when a job seemed overwhelming. Along with my personal favorite, even if it's not his, "No good deed ever goes unpunished." I can't say either how many timeless truths I learned in that studio on Rutherford Road, how many of his friends I became close with or how many amazing artists I met that had their artwork placed in his gallery. I always feel like Mike is looking over my shoulder to make sure that I am doing a job of utmost perfection. That inspiration has never been lost on me, although I have worked for employers since my time with him that do not find this type of work ethic to be of any use whatsoever. It's really disheartening when you want to give your all and someone really, truly wants you to do as little as possible to make it right. Some jobs are better left behind.
I don't know what Mike thinks about what I have chosen to use my talents for since he spent so many years helping me to improve upon them. I'm sure that he doesn't want Vampire Stakes in his Gallery, no matter how beautiful they turn out. There are a few things I may inquire about when I complete them, but that time may come later. Although I love working with furniture, especially antique restoration, I truly love doing works of a smaller scale, especially wood turning. One of Mike's friends and colleagues, Tom Zumbach, who is a wood turner by trade, once told me that he loved wood turning because it was "instant gratification." There were not countless hours spent putting together the case for a piece of furniture, building the drawers, adding drawer fronts, finishing the job, sanding it, spraying it again, sanding it, spraying it AGAIN then adding the hardware, whew. Throw a rough block onto the lathe and in an hour or so, (less if you are Tom) you have something that is finished! I really like that concept. Many of the things I do are not so simple, but I enjoy delving into this craft that is almost as old as time itself. To take pieces from a tree that a neighbor cut down, to dry it out over the course of years and then turn it into something useful is one of my favorite things to do. I am also a fan of using recycled and reclaimed wood. In many ways, I have grown into the name, The Green Dragon. Not only do I find unwanted wood and hoard it for future projects, I now use less harmful water based finishes and I have very little waste. It's actually easy being green.
I only wish that my love for wood could sustain me financially through life so that I could continue on with something that truly makes me happy. Perhaps one day I will find a niche that is well received enough to offer such a commitment. Perhaps my book of poems will hit the best sellers list! For now, I am content with my Vampire Stakes, Magic Wands, Druid Sticks, ancient games and other woodworks that aren't quite as odd. I never did build a guitar, but I did build a very nice Ashiko Drum last year. Do feel free to visit my woodworking website to see what it is all about. I also enjoy building custom pieces for anyone who requests it. Strangely enough, I have never written about my woodworking, though I have written many of my poems about other topics while inside the workshop. Go figure, it's bound to happen one day.
Until then, my book, I Wandered from New Orleans is still available on my author's website, among other places, and my woodworking items are on display and for sale at The Green Dragon's website. Pop in and tell me what you think! Cheers!
My second lucky break was getting a job in Greenville, South Carolina with Michael McDunn. He is, by trade, what one would call a fine woodworker. He builds fantastically imaginative custom furniture and has an art gallery in the front of his business. The collective name for this venture is Michael P McDunn, Woodworking studio and art gallery. This man is incredible and it was from him that I learned to fine tune my trade, as he taught me to fine tune my chisels and scrapers to work perfectly. We used hand tools along with the standard power tools and created works of art from slabs of trees, tree trunks, found wood and amazing lumber from those southern Appalachians. I can't begin to say how much Mike influenced me over the four years that I worked for him. He took a rough, green carpenter and taught me how to fine tune, to make things absolutely perfect and to restore an antique piece to perfection, even if it arrived in pieces inside a large box. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Mike and his simple wisdom. "Bit by bit," he used to tell me when a job seemed overwhelming. Along with my personal favorite, even if it's not his, "No good deed ever goes unpunished." I can't say either how many timeless truths I learned in that studio on Rutherford Road, how many of his friends I became close with or how many amazing artists I met that had their artwork placed in his gallery. I always feel like Mike is looking over my shoulder to make sure that I am doing a job of utmost perfection. That inspiration has never been lost on me, although I have worked for employers since my time with him that do not find this type of work ethic to be of any use whatsoever. It's really disheartening when you want to give your all and someone really, truly wants you to do as little as possible to make it right. Some jobs are better left behind.
I don't know what Mike thinks about what I have chosen to use my talents for since he spent so many years helping me to improve upon them. I'm sure that he doesn't want Vampire Stakes in his Gallery, no matter how beautiful they turn out. There are a few things I may inquire about when I complete them, but that time may come later. Although I love working with furniture, especially antique restoration, I truly love doing works of a smaller scale, especially wood turning. One of Mike's friends and colleagues, Tom Zumbach, who is a wood turner by trade, once told me that he loved wood turning because it was "instant gratification." There were not countless hours spent putting together the case for a piece of furniture, building the drawers, adding drawer fronts, finishing the job, sanding it, spraying it again, sanding it, spraying it AGAIN then adding the hardware, whew. Throw a rough block onto the lathe and in an hour or so, (less if you are Tom) you have something that is finished! I really like that concept. Many of the things I do are not so simple, but I enjoy delving into this craft that is almost as old as time itself. To take pieces from a tree that a neighbor cut down, to dry it out over the course of years and then turn it into something useful is one of my favorite things to do. I am also a fan of using recycled and reclaimed wood. In many ways, I have grown into the name, The Green Dragon. Not only do I find unwanted wood and hoard it for future projects, I now use less harmful water based finishes and I have very little waste. It's actually easy being green.
I only wish that my love for wood could sustain me financially through life so that I could continue on with something that truly makes me happy. Perhaps one day I will find a niche that is well received enough to offer such a commitment. Perhaps my book of poems will hit the best sellers list! For now, I am content with my Vampire Stakes, Magic Wands, Druid Sticks, ancient games and other woodworks that aren't quite as odd. I never did build a guitar, but I did build a very nice Ashiko Drum last year. Do feel free to visit my woodworking website to see what it is all about. I also enjoy building custom pieces for anyone who requests it. Strangely enough, I have never written about my woodworking, though I have written many of my poems about other topics while inside the workshop. Go figure, it's bound to happen one day.
Until then, my book, I Wandered from New Orleans is still available on my author's website, among other places, and my woodworking items are on display and for sale at The Green Dragon's website. Pop in and tell me what you think! Cheers!
Monday, December 27, 2010
Auld Lang Syne
It's interesting to see where your mind takes you when it is lulled back into familiar routine. Today at my job I had the old song, 'Auld Lang Syne' stuck in my head. At least, I had the melody and some of the words. I decided to look it up, to learn a little about this 'Auld' song to see what it's origins were. I was surprised to find that it dated back at least to the 1600's in Scotland. A gentleman named Robert Burns found some of these old verses and translated them into the song we recognize today. Of course Burns' version has been Americanized, almost brutally some would say. I prefer Burn's version especially when provided with the definitions of certain questionable words and phrases.
The main idea that I gathered from this song, and why it is so popular on New Year's is the sentiment that we should honor and recognize old friends and the experiences that we have shared together. We should be thankful for those times from long ago and honor them in the moment, and all year long and for a lifetime! How easily we forget the connections we have created with each other, how thin become the ties that once bound us together in friendship. There are many friends who are taken from us cruelly, there are some friends we have let pass us by and out of our lives. I have friends like this. Friends who have drifted, who have allowed a misunderstanding or unkind moment to fester into the distance of years. Time spent apart with a complete communication breakdown. Because of this particular misunderstanding to which I am referring, I do not like to speak of politics and I tread carefully around topics of religion. We all have our differences and it is in our best interest to honor the opinions of our friends and not judge them or call them rednecks in a social networking forum for not supporting certain presidential candidates. I still can't believe that I lost a longtime friend over political differences and pride. For this friend I wrote a poem that is in my new book, I Wandered from New Orleans called 'Water Cools the Earth.' She has never read it and I no longer believe that she ever will. Still, it serves as a reminder to me to speak to someone when I would rather turn away. To resolve a small difference before it becomes a massive, destructive sinkhole of despair. This is why we are here on this earth, isn't it? To build our relationships, to inevitably make mistakes and learn from them to strengthen our ties with each other and ourselves. To swallow our pride and know that an apology isn't coming, take the high road. Most of us always speak of New Year's Resolutions; quitting some bad habit, or starting a new, productive project. This year, I am including in my own resolutions, to work on communication, to continue to listen and communicate real feelings and to ignore the ass holes that crop up like unwanted weeds in a beautiful garden. Ok, that was harsh... Was it? Hell, I don't know what to do about those ass holes. I'll cross that Piranha pit when I come to it.
In the meantime, I would like to leave everyone with Happy Wishes for the New Year! May you enjoy it and spend it with your loved ones and good friends. With this wish, I leave you with the 'auld' and new versions of the Scottish song, 'Auld Lang Syne' Sing it with fervor, with friends and a good ale! Cheers and Happy New Year!
The main idea that I gathered from this song, and why it is so popular on New Year's is the sentiment that we should honor and recognize old friends and the experiences that we have shared together. We should be thankful for those times from long ago and honor them in the moment, and all year long and for a lifetime! How easily we forget the connections we have created with each other, how thin become the ties that once bound us together in friendship. There are many friends who are taken from us cruelly, there are some friends we have let pass us by and out of our lives. I have friends like this. Friends who have drifted, who have allowed a misunderstanding or unkind moment to fester into the distance of years. Time spent apart with a complete communication breakdown. Because of this particular misunderstanding to which I am referring, I do not like to speak of politics and I tread carefully around topics of religion. We all have our differences and it is in our best interest to honor the opinions of our friends and not judge them or call them rednecks in a social networking forum for not supporting certain presidential candidates. I still can't believe that I lost a longtime friend over political differences and pride. For this friend I wrote a poem that is in my new book, I Wandered from New Orleans called 'Water Cools the Earth.' She has never read it and I no longer believe that she ever will. Still, it serves as a reminder to me to speak to someone when I would rather turn away. To resolve a small difference before it becomes a massive, destructive sinkhole of despair. This is why we are here on this earth, isn't it? To build our relationships, to inevitably make mistakes and learn from them to strengthen our ties with each other and ourselves. To swallow our pride and know that an apology isn't coming, take the high road. Most of us always speak of New Year's Resolutions; quitting some bad habit, or starting a new, productive project. This year, I am including in my own resolutions, to work on communication, to continue to listen and communicate real feelings and to ignore the ass holes that crop up like unwanted weeds in a beautiful garden. Ok, that was harsh... Was it? Hell, I don't know what to do about those ass holes. I'll cross that Piranha pit when I come to it.
In the meantime, I would like to leave everyone with Happy Wishes for the New Year! May you enjoy it and spend it with your loved ones and good friends. With this wish, I leave you with the 'auld' and new versions of the Scottish song, 'Auld Lang Syne' Sing it with fervor, with friends and a good ale! Cheers and Happy New Year!
Auld Lang Syne - Robert Burns translation in 1788 from ancient Scottish verses. | |||||
| Burns Original | Standard English Translation | ||||
| Auld Lang Syne Chorus. And for auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne, 1. Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' auld lang syne. 2. And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp! And surely I'll be mine! And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. 3. We twa hae run about the braes And pu'd the gowans fine; But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin auld lang syne. 4. We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn, Frae mornin' sun till dine; But seas between us braid hae roar'd Sin auld lang syne. 5. And there's a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie's a hand o' thine! And we'll tak a right guid willy waught, For auld lang syne. Meaning of unusual words: Auld lang syne = Former days and friends jo = dear stoup = tankard gowans = daisies braid = broad Gude willie waught = friendly draught Visit Tracy's website for more information on I Wandered from New Orleans: Poems from the South. | Old Long Past Chorus. And for old long past, my joy (sweetheart), For old long past, We will take a cup of kindness yet, For old long past, Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should old acquaintance be forgot, And days of old long past. And surely you will pay for your pint-vessel! And surely I will pay for mine! And we will take a cup of kindness yet, For old long past. We two have run about the hillsides And pulled the wild daisies fine; But we have wandered many a weary foot Since old long past. We two have paddled in the stream, From morning sun till noon; But seas between us broad have roared Since old long past. And there is a hand, my trusty friend! And give me a hand of yours! And we will take a right good-will drink, For old long past. | ||||
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
...if only in my dreams
It's that time of year again, the crazy Christmas shopping rush. I live by a mall, so that's always evident to me as soon as it begins. The holidays don't just bring traffic and Salvation Army bell ringers, if you're like me, it's a time to reflect on family gatherings and the ones who won't be here to celebrate with you as they once did. Like poetry, music and songs can be interpreted in a variety of ways. For some reason this year, "I'll be home for Christmas" has taken on a whole new meaning for me. Why this year? Why in this way? I don't really know, but for some reason when I first heard it this year, I could only think of family members that wouldn't be home for Christmas. They would be here, 'only in my dreams,' you could say.
I think about my Auntie who inspired me to be a better person, I would say tolerant, but tolerance implies that there is something wrong and you're just not saying anything about how you really feel. She taught me to be accepting of certain differences and a few simple words changed my outlook forever. We had argued about a small portrait of the Virgin Mary that she wanted to give me, I told her I didn't want it, that it didn't mean anything to me. Finally she said, "It means something to me." I took the portrait and have applied this simple wisdom to so many aspects of my life. I think of Auntie at Christmas and I wish I could go sit next to her and talk to her again. In much the same way the main character saved and cataloged family memorabilia in the movie "Everything is Illuminated," I write because I do not wish to forget. Each piece I write memorializes some event, a feeling or just a significant moment.
'Please have snow and mistletoe..." My father's family always had a big Christmas Eve party. I can remember my Mammy always prepared a special meal for me because I wouldn't eat the typical food on the table. I'm still as picky, as you get older people do not wish to accomodate your pickiness. I usually leave Thanksgiving and Christmas 'feasts' hungry. Regardless, those old gatherings stick with me this time of year, I don't need the ghost of Christmas past to guide me, I am already there. Looking out over the rooftops of a porch in Mid-City, to the sky where they said Santa Claus was flying. Those were magical times with magical people. Never take for granted the impact a few simple words will have on a child through its lifetime.
For now, I'm remembering the ones who can't be here this year, my Auntie, Paw Paw, Mammy, Uncle T, Aunt Mildred, Nenny and Nez, Aunt Rae Ann, Aunt Cleo. I wish you could all be home for Christmas in the way that I remember; for now, you will all remain only in my dreams. Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas.
I think about my Auntie who inspired me to be a better person, I would say tolerant, but tolerance implies that there is something wrong and you're just not saying anything about how you really feel. She taught me to be accepting of certain differences and a few simple words changed my outlook forever. We had argued about a small portrait of the Virgin Mary that she wanted to give me, I told her I didn't want it, that it didn't mean anything to me. Finally she said, "It means something to me." I took the portrait and have applied this simple wisdom to so many aspects of my life. I think of Auntie at Christmas and I wish I could go sit next to her and talk to her again. In much the same way the main character saved and cataloged family memorabilia in the movie "Everything is Illuminated," I write because I do not wish to forget. Each piece I write memorializes some event, a feeling or just a significant moment.
'Please have snow and mistletoe..." My father's family always had a big Christmas Eve party. I can remember my Mammy always prepared a special meal for me because I wouldn't eat the typical food on the table. I'm still as picky, as you get older people do not wish to accomodate your pickiness. I usually leave Thanksgiving and Christmas 'feasts' hungry. Regardless, those old gatherings stick with me this time of year, I don't need the ghost of Christmas past to guide me, I am already there. Looking out over the rooftops of a porch in Mid-City, to the sky where they said Santa Claus was flying. Those were magical times with magical people. Never take for granted the impact a few simple words will have on a child through its lifetime.
For now, I'm remembering the ones who can't be here this year, my Auntie, Paw Paw, Mammy, Uncle T, Aunt Mildred, Nenny and Nez, Aunt Rae Ann, Aunt Cleo. I wish you could all be home for Christmas in the way that I remember; for now, you will all remain only in my dreams. Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas.
I Wandered from New Orleans is available at my website, Amzaon.com, as a NOOKbook and on Smashwords. Read the new review by Shannon Yarbrough at the LL Book Review
Friday, December 17, 2010
At 40, you eat Tombstone cake
So I've finally made it to 40. That seems like such an impossible age to be when I can recall taking the Peter Pan oath in 6th grade. Time keeps slipping away. So yesterday was spent in the French Quarter in New Orleans, one of my favorite places to be. I got some of my books into another book store, but the main purpose of the visit was for fun, relaxing and reflecting. We walked around down Frenchmen and then Decatur Street, past Jackson Square and the coach drivers. Finally it was time for a beer. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a Newcastle and a Guinness. I was terribly disappointed that Laffite's Blacksmith Shop didn't have these brews, so we steered a course for Decatur again and found Pravda. Now I first discovered Pravda the year we marched with the Krewe Of Pirates during Mardi Gras. The inside of the bar is quaint and dim, towards the back of the bar is a fabulous courtyard with a view of the distant rooftops. This means little to Pirates on Mardi Gras day, but yesterday was already a slow day for the Quarter, so the Pravda courtyard was candlelit and deserted so I thoroughly enjoyed my Guinness while Clarice enjoyed her Newcastle. Pravda is also the only bar I know of that has an actual working Absinthe drip fountain. This is classic and though I didn't get one yesterday, I plan to get one on Mardi Gras. I have always wanted to have an Absinthe made the old fashioned way, a shot of Absinthe over a sugar cube suspended over the glass with a traditional Absinthe spoon. Then the spigot is turned ever so slightly on the Absinthe drip fountain to send small drops of ice cold water over the sugar cube, dissolving it into the glass below. This was first done at The Old Absinthe House on Bourbon Street sometime in the late 1700's. Absinthe was outlawed even before probibition hit in the 20's because of the Wormwood. The neat thing about the Absinthe is that it isn't just the alcohol that is getting you drunk. It is infused with many different types of herbs, each with their own specific properties. Wormwood was known to cause hallucinations and disorientation. Poe was a fan of Absinthe as well as Van Gogh, in fact, Van Gogh cut off his ear while under the influence of Absinthe. In the last year, Wormwood was again added back into the brand 'Absente,' though I assume that it is either a distilled version of the wormwood or there is far less of it added to the bottle by volume.
Ah Mardi Gras, I shall have a drink from the Absinthe fountain for the first time. I have a bottle and a half here at the house. My method is to pour the shot over the sugar cube, cut the lights and set it on fire before dousing it with the ice water. Moulin Rouge style. Some disagree with this method saying that it burns off some of the alcohol, which seems to make logical sense. It still looks really cool when you do it, especially if the fire only burns the cube and does not drop into the glass. So... back to the Guinness.
We left Pravda and had Beignets and Coffee at Cafe Du Monde as we always do then headed over to the home of two new friends that we met at the New Orleans Book Fair. JT Blatty is a writer, photographer and artist. She was one of the volunteers who helped clean up the oil soaked Pelicans that fell victim to BP's careless oil gusher. She documented the process of the recovery with her photographs and focused mainly on the release of the birds back into the wild. It is truly beautiful work. She also published a book called 'The Who Dat Nation' that documents the players and the fans through unique, storytelling photographs. After spending many hours talking and sharing stories much farther into the night than we realized, we made our way back across the lake.
40 really isn't the end of the world. It just means eating tombstone cake, black candles and jokes about canes and wheelchairs. Maybe when I'm 80, for now, I'm content to remain in my Peter Panish fantasy, growing up only as much as I need to and remembering that youth is all a state of mind.
One of the best birthday presents I received was an amazing review of my book at the LL Book Review, you can read it here! Shannon did a great job and I couldn't be more pleased with his perspective on the book. I also added a page of links to my website so that New Orleans area locals can buy the book around town at local book stores and shops. I also added a page with links to showcase some of my artistic friends and their amazing websites. As always, you can find my book at http://www.tracyconway.com/ and also delve into some background information on the book with additional photos that did not appear inside. Thanks for coming along! See you next time.
Ah Mardi Gras, I shall have a drink from the Absinthe fountain for the first time. I have a bottle and a half here at the house. My method is to pour the shot over the sugar cube, cut the lights and set it on fire before dousing it with the ice water. Moulin Rouge style. Some disagree with this method saying that it burns off some of the alcohol, which seems to make logical sense. It still looks really cool when you do it, especially if the fire only burns the cube and does not drop into the glass. So... back to the Guinness.
We left Pravda and had Beignets and Coffee at Cafe Du Monde as we always do then headed over to the home of two new friends that we met at the New Orleans Book Fair. JT Blatty is a writer, photographer and artist. She was one of the volunteers who helped clean up the oil soaked Pelicans that fell victim to BP's careless oil gusher. She documented the process of the recovery with her photographs and focused mainly on the release of the birds back into the wild. It is truly beautiful work. She also published a book called 'The Who Dat Nation' that documents the players and the fans through unique, storytelling photographs. After spending many hours talking and sharing stories much farther into the night than we realized, we made our way back across the lake.
40 really isn't the end of the world. It just means eating tombstone cake, black candles and jokes about canes and wheelchairs. Maybe when I'm 80, for now, I'm content to remain in my Peter Panish fantasy, growing up only as much as I need to and remembering that youth is all a state of mind.
One of the best birthday presents I received was an amazing review of my book at the LL Book Review, you can read it here! Shannon did a great job and I couldn't be more pleased with his perspective on the book. I also added a page of links to my website so that New Orleans area locals can buy the book around town at local book stores and shops. I also added a page with links to showcase some of my artistic friends and their amazing websites. As always, you can find my book at http://www.tracyconway.com/ and also delve into some background information on the book with additional photos that did not appear inside. Thanks for coming along! See you next time.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Milk Studio, down home N'awlins artists
So we were on another book run through the French Quarter and Uptown today. I left books at the Maple Street Book Shop, a fine book store, and at Milk Studio on Decatur Street. Milk Studio has been around for over five years and counting, the owners are Mindy and Dave, two N'awlins locals with a flare for the creative. If you've ever heard the Benny Grunch and the Bunch's song 'Ain't dere no more' and you feel a craving for old New Orleans places that are lost forever, you should head down to Milk Studio and stock up on icons from the past. One of their hottest items are the ceramic coasters with pictures of memorable and lost, but not forgotten, businesses and products of the past and the present. Barq's Root Beer, Godchaux's Department Store, K&B, McKenzie's Pastry Shoppes, Schwegmann's Grocery Store, the Bali Hai, Pontchartrain Beach, Shakey's Pizza, New Orleans Water Meter covers, the original New Orleans Saints logo... the list goes on and on and on. You can find these logos on the ceramic coasters, and some of them on t shirts, not to mention the 'Save My Wetlands' underwear, ooh lala. There are also candles of all sorts, framed photographs and artwork as well as, ahem, books by local authors. I'm sure I'm leaving some things out that will surprise you as you peruse their amazing shop space on 1309 Decatur Street in the Quarter.
Mindy and Dave are a pair of characters. Both New Orleans locals who found a way to keep so many places and products alive through their creative ventures. All of the work is produced in the studio, Mindy is an accomplished graphic artist who has utilized her skills in true N'awlins fashion. People from all over the world enjoy their products, but I think that they mean the most to those of us who remember the K&B purple or closing our eyes at the top hump of the Zephyr at Ponchartrain Beach.
I'm very grateful to both of them for their special blend of New Orleans southern hospitality, for taking my books into their store to help with my sales and most importantly, for finding a way to make a living doing something meaningful and memorable to all us yats who just want a slice of McKenzie's Devil's Food Cake again. The McKenzie's shirt doesn't taste nearly as good, but I'm proud to be able to wear it just the same!
Two more local shops where you can find the book:
Milk Studio - 1309 Decatur Street, New Orleans
Maple Street Book Shop - 7523 Maple Street, New Orleans
Mindy and Dave are a pair of characters. Both New Orleans locals who found a way to keep so many places and products alive through their creative ventures. All of the work is produced in the studio, Mindy is an accomplished graphic artist who has utilized her skills in true N'awlins fashion. People from all over the world enjoy their products, but I think that they mean the most to those of us who remember the K&B purple or closing our eyes at the top hump of the Zephyr at Ponchartrain Beach.
I'm very grateful to both of them for their special blend of New Orleans southern hospitality, for taking my books into their store to help with my sales and most importantly, for finding a way to make a living doing something meaningful and memorable to all us yats who just want a slice of McKenzie's Devil's Food Cake again. The McKenzie's shirt doesn't taste nearly as good, but I'm proud to be able to wear it just the same!
Two more local shops where you can find the book:
Milk Studio - 1309 Decatur Street, New Orleans
Maple Street Book Shop - 7523 Maple Street, New Orleans
As always, you can find my book at http://www.tracyconway.com/, Amazon.com, as a NOOKbook at Barnes and Noble and at Smashwords. Thanks and happy shopping!
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