No words to be spoken (written).
February 5, 2010
A Vegetable Peeler
A vegetable peeler came between me and my sister. We didn’t speak to one another for twenty five years. The photograph of Christian Washington using the instrument of our separation still sits on my kitchen counter. Neither of us had ever met Mr. Washington yet he is the link to our families’ heritage. In the black and white photo taken sometime in the mid nineteen thirties, Mr. Washington sits atop a bucket peeling potatoes into a large pot. The graying temples give his black complexion depth and his smile dances not just at the corners of his mouth but also in his eyes. His white apron hangs loosely around his neck and drapes down covering his lap. A round clock with a silver band enclosing a white face hangs on the wall behind him above the bar. Behind the bar off in the distance and a bit out of focus stands my grandmother, Hazel Williamson. My grandmother and grandfather were the proud proprietors of the Victory Bar in St. Louis Missouri.
My Grandmother passed away in 1983. She worked hard all of her life until the day she died. Living through the depression, Grandma was frugal to the core. She would rather die than hire someone to do any work around her house and that is exactly what happened. My grandfather had passed fifteen years prior to my grandmother in a fire. He was working in his garage when an explosion rocked the separate detached building. He was unable to find a clear path out. Since that time, my grandmother took care of everything. She was a strong woman. Her last task on this earth was to patch a hole in the roof. Her heart had had enough.
Not much was known (if anything at all) of Mr. Washington until my sister and I went through the old cedar trunk left by my beloved Grandmother.
…….to be continued.
February 4, 2010
How’s that?
A friend of mine sent this to me one day and it just blew my mind. Enjoy.
February 3, 2010
Woodstock
My friends and I have been discussing Woodstock and some of the greatest performances. The question was posed: what performance would you have been most likely to witness knowing what you know now. I chose Santana- Soul Sacrifice. My second choice which is posted here is Jefferson Airplane- Volunteers. There has been much debate and Jimi Hendrix often enters the fray and is ultimately rejected, not by performance standards, but by the knowledge that it was the end of a long, long festival. Too bad that Jimi was not able to close the festival at a decent hour on the final night. Anyway, here for your perusal…..Jefferson Airplane.
February 3, 2010
Deep Sleep, Dreams, and Realization
In a Dickens-like night of enlightenment, my dreams converged on reality that shook the very foundations of my perceptions.
The car raced forward into the dark with an unknown passenger. Our path was abruptly halted by a parked car. Looking to the faceless stranger for answers was met with silence. A cold chill ran through my body like electricity as the soundness of sleep gave way to conciousness. As clear as a mountain stream, the parked car represented events and circumstances that impeded my progress. What I once thought was normal or right thinking changed at the moment of impact.
The sudden shift in perception made a unique and indescribable sound, one that will never be forgotten.
January 25, 2010
A Reasonable Expectation
This feeling of anticipating the moment to come fills me with both excitement and dread. Each day is filled with these moments and my thoughts of finally getting to my 3 ft square cement pad, my car or finally my balcony that overlooks the pool. These are my safe havens that I share with my friend of twenty plus years. I was the one who introduced myself and over time we have been inseparable even though my deepest desire is to rid myself of my constant companion. Not only would I be better off, but those around me would also gain.
From my desk, the signed acknowledgement of my goals and dreams behind glass is a reminder of my failures. As clear as day and night, the statement confers that I, Gregory C. Ramsey satisfactorily pursued the studies and passed the examinations required to hold the degree of Doctor of Medicine.
One after another sit on parchment awaiting my expertise. All the days of my means of a living are spent in contradiction. “Do as I say not as I do” is the refrain that swirls around my mind as I give each one the lecture for a lifetime. All the while my friend is at the forefront of my thoughts.
As I pull down the sweetness into my lungs, my heart cries for freedom. I struggle with the chemical and emotional imbalance of my desires. I so desperately want to live the life of influence. Achievement has always been a result of formulated actions, but the experience of success that I crave has thus far eluded me.
The days have passed into years and I will no longer accept the lies of one so powerful. My tomorrow will radiate hopefulness without the emptiness of my yesterday. My mind is renewed.
