The libraries of my life have been strange, liminal spaces for specific times and events, usually rainy day Scrabble tournaments.
Continue reading “Reading and Beyond: Libraries Around Birmingham”
Hit up the farmer’s market, throw on that apron, and make your friends and family say “wow, I wish I could cook like this!” And then tell them, “you can!” And then tell them all about how Southern food is as much of a cultural mash-up as the food we see in LA and New York, where pastrami tacos and sushi bagels are on corner after corner.
Briarwood is a megachurch that sits up on a hill. When my grandmother came to visit and saw the church from the highway, she called it “Fort God.” It is not the small, Northern church with a parking lot big enough to fit a trailer that is used for Sunday School.
I owe my literacy and love of art to Batman. The box of 1960’s Batman comics in the attic didn’t count for school, since we were assigned readings and our outside reading had to be “chapter books” with no pictures. But the comic books were what I read even though I gained no scholarly benefit. Doing something for the love of it is passion.
Nightmares are strange things. No one ever asks why did this nightmare happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? Because we are told that they are part of life. We can eat right, exercise, say our nightly prayers, but we aren’t immune to horror. This is the consequence of intelligence and creativity. Continue reading “LJCC: Where We Go From Here”