A Portrait of Emily

The table sat


the tick, tick, tick


The scent of hued oils


from the canvas, ghosts

of marked hands

slipped ley lines

with lace gloves

airily arched, twine

turpentine and rose water

in grand sway

Still life anchors the echoes

Picture from Pinterest, originated from etsystatic

Where Do We Go?

An abandoned pick-up, left to rust.

once contained a vibrancy in an us.

Flaking paint and mildew green,

consistency fled sight unseen.

Cracked windows and weary tires,

lack of communication friendship expires.

The frame holds where I’ve been,

tethered to moments of remember when.

Book vs Movie; They Both Count

I used to think that an audio book didn’t count when reading a book, because you read with your eyes and you listen with your ears. So it was perfectly clear to me that the two were not the same. They were two completely different senses, and still are. But I have laid that battle to rest when I realized that both are in the consuming category. I had digested the contents of what was written therefore, they both counted.

So let me counter that with movies/tv, which you watch with your eyes and listen with your ears. It may start out as a book, hence the well known “the book is always better than the movie” quote. Which in 95% of the time it is, yet does watching the movie/tv not count as reading the book also? You are digesting the contents of what someone has written into a screenplay and then directed it in video, instead of book or audio. A screenplay, which is still written as we read in books abridged and unabridged like Shakespeare. Then can not a movie/tv, be an abridged version of a book?

Which now leads to foreign novels, translated as best as possible to the English language. Interpreted works. A foreign flick with subtitles would lead to suggest you are not only watching but also reading it. Would that count as having read the book twice at the same time? Does that up your sufficiency level as a reader? And let us not forget that we count rereading, so what about rewatching?

So here is what I suggest. Let it go. Whether you are reading, listening or watching it all counts. Why should one be over the other. All book apps should add movie posters alongside their book and audio editions so that can be a choice. That way as a reviewer you will know if it is something you would like to watch as well as read. And vice versa, if movie watchers are using the app and notice that the book is getting better reviews than the movie they just watched, in hope that would lead them to read the book to see what they are missing.

As of the current year to this date:

Books Read: 126, Audio Listened: 0, Movies Watched: 38, Movies Rewatched: 8, Total Digested Works: 172

Art: Unknown Title by Susan Cox

Obie Ject; A Pathway of Dreaming

It was the time of remembering. A time between then and now. A journey formed along a dusty graveleved path. A bumpy, dreamy ride in a conveyance into the looking. A spectactor for visual stimuli. To find Obie Ject.

Hunger led us to stop at a degenerative abode. A place of such condemnation there was sores upon its walls. Torn fabrications of will lie about in decrepit positions. The counter an unstable declaration of intent. The past imprinted in severely faded recognition of a huge yellow M.

The road is central to foggy waterscapes and past flickers along as with the sun on a somber day. Obie Ject is confirmation? Continuation? Calibration? A story to find, its pages turn as does my ride. Slowing to an end at a stone bench where memories sit, converse, pass along the way waiting to be heard.

Coming and going, astral floating lightning bugs with tales too disjointed and out of place. A muddle. Confusion to set things in line. Breaking away, along a serene clear pool, trees interrupt the scene. Honeysuckle, overly large and unpinchable, yet heady intoxicates the mind. Crossing to the other side of broken asphalt the water races. The opposite of the opposite.

Somewhere between one-forty seven a.m. and five-seventeen a.m. there was a looking. An inspirational design to find Obie Ject. Why Obie Ject? With no clear knowledge found and lethargy settled in, my cocooned conscious fires with the rising dawn.

(actual dream)

Art: Misty Lake by Robin Hedberg

My Journey with Racism and Discrimination

“Silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out,
because taking a firm stand on anything opens us up to criticism.”

(line one quoted by Mahatma Gandhi, line two quoted by Lindy West)

The color of my skin is what many consider white. I can easily pass for white. I am technically and lawfully white.

I have had privileges set upon me and I have accepted and embraced them as they benefitted the circumstances.
However my history has had a few racial and discrimination collisions…
Up until 7th grade I lived in an all white community with one black family. I remember seeing the child of that family who was younger than me and being curious. I wanted to talk to him but he was never anywhere that I could have spoken to him. I do remember all the negative comments and slurs directed at the family from our community. Also at this time, in this very small town we literally had Gypsies come to stay in our fairgrounds every year. They arrived in vardo’s and various tiny homes on wheels. I remember people standing in their yards when they went down our main street to reach their destination and whispering among themselves and grabbing their children. I also remember sitting in front on our television at six pm and watching the news announcing the curfew during this time. “Make sure all your children are in by dark.” Apparently when the Gypsies left town, children were known to go missing. This was my community.
In 7th grade my mom moved my sister and I to another city. The middle school was very diverse and a shock. I was bullied on a daily basis. I was pushed and shoved, tripped, threatened, punched, hair yanked and stolen from. Shockingly, it wasn’t because I was white. It was because the students there genuinely believed that I was black and if not fully, then of mixed race. What? I knew I tanned really dark in the summer but I just didn’t understand. I came home crying everyday. Even my step-father refused to put up my yearly school photo because he claimed that I looked like a “put N word here” (A word that I have never said and I will never say.) Now, let’s add on another discrimination here, that can and does include all colors of skin. Weight. While here it was also the first time I tried dieting. I didn’t eat anything for 3 days trying to lose weight. I was so weak that I could barely stand. Looking back now I was so thin it seems ridiculous that I thought that I was over-weight. After months of my situation, my mother moved us back to the city where I was raised.
A year later my mother then moved us to the next state over, which was just across a bridge. I was in eighth grade and from one single night to the next I was in a new state, new school and new environment. I never got to go back to gather my belongings or say goodbye to my friends. I just never went back. Gone was the all white community and placed yet again in a very diverse system. Yes, there were blacks but this time the disclination came from class. You were from Upper, Middle or Lower class and you stayed there and never spoke to those of a different financial group. Except me. I refused to do it. I would spend my recess with the lower talking to a smoking classmate. Yes, in eighth and ninth grade the students smoked outside the school. I was offered and respected when I declined. I wasn’t teased. I shared conversations in class with the Uppers and hung out and walked home with the Middle. At one point my cousin, a year younger came to me and said we couldn’t be seen together at school because she was of Upper class and I was poor. When in fact, my mother had us move in with my aunt and my cousin because they couldn’t pay the bills. I was so shocked and hurt and in disbelief that the person I shared a room with would treat me this way.
Another discrimination awareness in my teenage years is becoming enlightened from a short conversation with my mother. We were walking home from town one evening and we were holding pinkies. Mom told me that she and her best friend held hands while they walked as well. Yet when approached they were always asked if they were gay. Mom said that you can have such a close relationship with another female to be comfortable holding hands that does not involve any type of sexuality. It was just love and trust for another person. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. And there was nothing wrong with it even if you were. She had plenty of gay friends. I had really never thought of it before the point was made and I have never made it an issue since.
But mom didn’t feel that way when I fell in love at 16 and got engaged to at 17 to a black man. We set the town on fire with audacity. We became the first inter-racial couple to openly display our union. We were going to marry and I was going to start an Inter-Racial magazine to show the world that we are equal. We walked the downtown streets and were whispered about. The school approached my mother and told her this had to stop. I was offered, literally Upper class white males to date. (that is so insane) My mother decided to have a conversation with another black man in our corner grocery store and explain why he was so pale and why my fiancé was so dark. I so wish I had been there when she found out the man she asked just so happen to be the brother of my fiancé. She then sent me to Florida to my Grandparents. They offered, a car, an apartment and a full college education if I would just leave him. They even delved into biblical reference. I refused all. My mother got desperate. She was not going to have her daughter marry a black man. She packed up all of our stuff in a van and moved 1600 miles away to Florida. I had 9 months till my 18th birthday and I could go back. I didn’t go back. It worked in her favor. I just couldn’t leave my family. I bawled on the phone on my birthday and broke it off with my fiancé. Then turned around and dated a 100% Chinese man.
Time and years go by, and I’m in my 40’s. I am in a new state with a new job and I am bullied yet again. This time with grown women who should know better. But I wasn’t them. I didn’t understand yet again why they persisted with their antics, until a new employee asked if I needed a ride home because it was raining and I walked to and from work everyday. She plainly told me they didn’t like me because I wasn’t of their race. Except for the manager, I was the only employee of “white” skin. No, they were not black either. The new employee that took me home was their race. I never even considered this. It never occurred to me. I was so shocked. I thought in all this time that we had made progress.
A couple of years ago I treated myself to a DNA test. I wanted the exact percentage of my Native American ancestors. Because I grew up with the knowledge of being Native American. First being told Cherokee, only after many conversations to realize it was Shawnee. I joined FNAIS, in my early 30’s which is the Florida Native American Indian Society. Given a Native name, become a council member and was very active in ceremonies and pow wow’s. My heart and soul is Native American. But my DNA test revealed there isn’t an ounce of it in my blood. I was never so disappointed in my life. I have lived a lie. My family didn’t believe it. So I took another DNA test with another company and it came back with the same results and my family still didn’t believe it. Then the only male left living with our last name from my generation took his DNA test and it basically matched mine. My aunt firmly denies it all. To her we are Native American and the sources don’t have the genetic make-up from the Natives to make a DNA test accurate. I ended my association with FNAIS years ago, well before I took my DNA test. I was called upon another path, but I will always advocate with the Indigenous people of America. I believe this is where my understanding of racial and discrimination comes from. A life time of being aware.
Once more I am taken down a discriminatory path. This time it is religion. If anyone is not Christian then you are evil. I started at 6 years old wanting to go to church. Mom said that there was plenty of buses that go by our trailer on Sunday, go get on one. So the next Sunday, I got all dressed up, went out and stood on the corner. Mom watched from the window. (yep, I was 6!) The third bus was a pretty, light blue bus and they stopped and I got on. When I came home Mom was waiting at the bus stop. She asked me where do I go to church now and for the next 4 years I went to a strict Baptist church. I attended the Jr Course first then always took the front row pew in the adult service. I just didn’t want to go with the kids to the next class for us. I went every year to Bible Camp. I wanted to be a camp counselor. I learned that bible. I was great at bible drills and memorization. Then one day when I was 10 and the Jr class counselor said that tarot cards are evil and anyone who deals with them are evil was my last day to ever attend church. See, I regularly went with my mom to get her cards read. That lady and my mom were not evil and anyone who said so were not ok in my ten year old little head. Besides how many times do we have to go over the same book? It didn’t stop my curiosity though. My aunt was a Jehovah’s Witness. As a child I went to the Hall, I went knocking door to door with my aunt and cousin. I grew up around them. My aunt and cousin were in and out of their religion when it suited them. I studied for a while as an adult and even married a witness, whom 5 years later divorced. With different friends over the years I went to Catholic, Protestant and Episcopal, witnessed speaking in tongues, watched an arena get “healed” and for 15 years actively attend “moon ceremonies” from the Native American culture. All this time, while I was searching for meaning, of what to believe I always reverted to nature to find peace and harmony. I hugged the trees, spoke to the birds, watched for signs of rain and looked for the natural way to counter health issues. I am angry at all the butts on the ground, trash thrown around and total disrespect of the land we walk on. The path was always there and I had not recognized it. I was diverted from it. I am Pagan. Specifically Eclectic. Which is defined at choosing your own path, selecting what best suits you. I wear a 7-pointed star. It is my symbol for my beliefs. It means everything to me. I have been handed bibles and told that I need to read it. I have been approached so many times and asked if I believe in god, been invited to their church and blasphemed and told I was going to hell. People have come up to me and laid hands on me to heal me from my evil ways. My family all believe in god and they don’t understand why I choose this direction. I make them uncomfortable. I feel if they feel uncomfortable then they have their own issues with their personal beliefs. I don’t. Not anymore.

With exception to these few incidences I have led a pretty charmed life. A privileged, white life.
Now in my 50’s I know who I am. Or I thought I did.
I admit my ignorance. I will not deny my ignorance. Having said, “I am not prejudice,” “I don’t see color,” and “It’s what’s in your heart that matters,” are sayings for sitting on the fence and a blatant disregard and disrespect of those of color. I have straddled that fence for years. I was never informed I was wrong. No one whom I had said it to explained it to me. But I never asked either. I didn’t think to ask, which is white privilege. Too long. I love a confrontation. But I realize the confrontations that I enjoy are controlled by me. Politics and religion are confrontations that make me uncomfortable and I can’t control it. It’s from ignorance that I have not wanted to educate myself on. I have been scared. I am still scared but I have to get over it.
“If we do nothing, nothing will change.”

(quote from man in the Australian “brown eyes, blue eyes” group led by activist Jane Elliot)
I have not watched in it’s entirety the George Floyd video. I got to his first, “I can’t breath” and quit. Bawled and just can’t right now. I quickly pass it in my feed. I have seen so many post, signs, videos, tears, protest, looting and unjustified behavior from law enforcement that I can’t help but feel. I am an emotional mess.
I remembered a video on YouTube that I saw years ago about a teacher who divided her elementary class by eye color and I never forgot it. So I went searching. It was extremely easy. I found Jane Elliot. So I have spent my time since the death of Mr. Floyd educating myself. I have watched videos of talks, speeches and histories of racism. I have requested books from my library from all those videos and post that stated we need to read these books. The library is a free source to gain knowledge, use it. I still have a lot of life left in me and  I will continue to educate myself and grow.
I have shed so many tears this past week at the injustices of skin color from around the world. I knew they were out there. I chose to ignore it with my white privilege. Black Lives Matter. Always. They don’t get to set it aside and I don’t want to live in ignorance and compliance any longer.
Not to diminish the current situation, racism is more that black vs white, white vs native, it is white vs everyone… We just must put a stop to racism all-together. Color, political, religious and financial. It has to end.
If I stop feeling then I have stopped caring. Everyone need to start caring and stop being numb to the situation.

One Race. HUMAN.
this is my voice, speaking LOUDLY
Below is some books to read. A map to replace the one generated to show white superiority. It’s called the Peter’s Projection map, let’s get it in the schools and change the curriculums.
Thank your for your time and patience in reading my blog.


I’ve been working on all new stuff. Had several titles and covers but I had to keep changing them as what they portrayed didn’t actually feel as to what was inside. I wrote more real than fantasy. More current event than fiction. Not to say I didn’t throw in any fantasy inspiration that flounced itself about and made me type away. Example; The Spider Who Liked to Weave in Color.

I wrote of aging, perspective and some seriously weighty issues. Example; I Don’t Need a Mirror, I Have a Chicken. So love, childhood and observation found ground as well. Example; The Fruit of Arms Crossed

I threw in some haikus, a limerick and even a tongue twister. I turned post cards into poetry cards a while back and those are represented. I took black and white photographs that spoke volumes in little words and they portray whole stories. Add a dash or two of flash fiction which by the way is on this blog and a few acrostics and I created 168 pages of lasting thoughts and feelings.

If you are in any way interested in reading this it is now available through Amazon.

I am anxiously awaiting for it to be in Barnes & Noble stores soon!

I am an author on Goodreads as well.


rain is for considering a pause
rain is the opportunity for regrowth
….rain restores the sometimes dreary
paths we have walked
….rain refreshes the stale, accumulated
scents of our too-fast lives
….rain is a thousand tiny storms
soaking in under our numbing armor
….rain reminds us to slow down
….rain remembers our lost thoughts
….rain renews appreciation
for the warmth of the sun
….rain releases all of our
tears right back at us…

Ordering the Breve Bucket

So sitting in my favorite café, the Horny Half Cup I am joined by Agares and Agramon. Now you wouldn’t think the demons of courage and fear to be best buddies, but there’s definitely a bromance going on there! Agares is the demon of courage and Agramon is the demon of fear. Both are pretty damn scary, but what can you do?

Agramon: “What did you order this time Gypsie?”

Me: “The Breve Bucket.”

Agares: “Isn’t that the one where you’re inspired to write the “list” of all the things you want to accomplish before your dead?”

Agramon: “Dude, not yet, I kind of like having this little human in our realm.”

Me;  I smile my thanks, you know for being a breather.

Agramon: “So, let’s see what you got.”

Agares; “Yes, let’s see all that your fighting for.”

  1. Read, Write and Speak fluently all languages.
  2. Ride in a hot air balloon.
  3. Create living space for the homeless and less fortunate.
  4. Take a two-week sailboat cruise.
  5. Spend the day at a wolf reserve.
  6. Get tickets to the Ellen DeGeneres Show.
  7. Jump out of a plane.
  8. Spend a week in a tree house.
  9. Eat a chocolate croissant in a Paris café.
  10. Attend a masquerade ball.
  11. Fly through the Bermuda Triangle.
  12. Own a Blythe doll.
  13. Take a historic tour through Salem, MA.
  14. Have a private tour of Stonehenge.
  15. Have a front row seat at the Victoria Secret Annual Show.
  16. Eat at Dans Le Noir in London.
  17. Bathe in the Roman Baths.
  18. Walk through the Poison Garden in London.
  19. Swim in the Underwater Park in Austria.
  20. Dine in the Hanging Restaurant in Belgium.
  21. Drive the Atlantic Road in Norway.
  22. Bounce on the Paris Trampoline Bridge.
  23. Visit as many libraries from around the world.
  24. Visit as many bookstores from around the world.
  25. Visit as many museums from around the world.
  26. Walk the beach in the Maldives at night.
  27. Live a year or two in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia.
  28. Live a year or two in New Orleans.
  29. Have a photo shoot done in various period pieces and fantasy.
  30. Have my ears tipped like a faery.
  31. Open a authentic Victorian Resort for tourist.
  32. Stay overnight in an Ice Hotel.
  33. Go to the Steampunk World Fair.
  34. Go to the Dark Side of the Con.
  35. Visit the Meow Wolf – House of Eternal Return in Santa Fe, NM.
  36. Live a year or two or forever in Kalispell, MT.
  37. See the Crystal Ice Caves in Iceland.
  38. Leave a love letter on the wall in Verona, Italy.
  39. Hike the Valley of Love in Ireland.
  40. Join a Color Run.
  41. Live out my sexual fantasy.
  42. Knowingly meet a real vampire, shifter and faery.
  43. Travel back in time for about a month.
  44. Travel and camp in a Vardo.
  45. Have coffee and converse with Liv Tyler.
  46. Join a Bubble Run.
  47. Stay overnight in Dracula’s Castle.
  48. Hike the Carpathian Mountains.
  49. Have one of my book ideas published by a publisher.
  50. Own my own bookstore.
  51. Have a permanent home in an unusual place.
  52. Witness a floating lantern ceremony.
  53. Get a tiny, private tattoo.
  54. Surprise people with giving them something they want but can’t afford.
  55. Be someone’s first thought when they wake, last thought when they fall asleep.
  56. Have my design for a home built.
  57. Have a pen pal.
  58. Visit the Mall of America.
  59. Stay at a bed and breakfast in Maine on a cliff overlooking the ocean during winter and have lobster for dinner.
  60. Take a Photoshop class.
  61. Buy a vehicle.
  62. Renew my passport.
  63. Have a permanent seat on The Voice.
  64. Hug the oldest tree in the world.
  65. Win the lottery so that I can do all these things!

Agares:  “Well I see a pretty good list there. All are low-key, where’s the excitement. What gets your adrenaline pumping. What is there that would take courage?”

Agramon: “I only see number seven as anything that might get your fear up.”

Clauneck: “I can tell you most of this will never happen, cause I will not let number 65 happen!”

Now what Clauneck looking over my shoulder thinks any of this is his business is because he is the demon of treasures and riches. He hordes money like a dragon does his treasure. He must have been informed what I asked for and came to investigate.  Damn nosy demons.

“Hey, I will be happy to oblige number 41!”  Pan yells across the café.  The demon of lust can’t get enough and willing to debauch every soul.

My breve is empty and I am now the center of attention of just too many demons. So it’s time for me to vamoose. I won’t be ordering that again.


Register Etiquette

  1. Finish your shopping before you get in line.  Make sure you have everything you need and if not ask a person on the floor or a customer service department. Don’t come up to the register and in the middle of the sale, run off to find something your forgot. That is being disrespectful of the cashier and those waiting in line.
  2. Own up to your time.  Don’t huff and puff because the person or people at the register is taking too long. Remember it’s only too long for YOU. You browsed and then decide you have to hurry to get out the door. That is on you. You are an adult. You know your time. Use it wisely. When it’s your turn you may have your time.
  3. Follow the signs and get in the right line.  Generally all places of business will have signs to follow to the registers. Some are above your head, others at eye level and some even on the floor.  Look for them. Don’t just show up at the register in any direction. Don’t get angry if you are not the next in line when you believe you are.
  4. Never walk up to the register on your phone.  The most important rule of all. For all cashiers out there. This is extremely rude to the cashier. You are treating them like they are non-existent. This is rude to the person you are talking to as well. Generally you often only apologize to the person on your phone and not the cashier. Put your phone down, hang up or don’t get in line. Apologizing to the cashier while you continue being on the phone is really null and void. A meaningless gesture that we are well aware of. In our minds, you’re pathetic.
  5. Don’t set your wet drink on the counter.  Ok, no problem with you having a drink. But what about the next person in line, setting down their items in the traces of your perspiring drink and ruining the possible last item we have in store. Not cool. Also a lot of companies have certain trash days. It’s a contract thing. Paper items no problem to throw away for you but anything edible or drinkable would sit there and attract little crawlies and that is not a good thing. Find a trash that gets taken daily and be responsible for your own trash.
  6. Have all your coupons, gift cards and payment type ready.  For a better and more speedy process have all these items already on hand before you get in line.
  7. Know and respect the store’s policy on purchases and returns.  It may be your first time or your one thousandth time, policy is policy. Just because you shop there all the time doesn’t give you special exceptions. Because of that very reason, you are more than aware of the policy and should respect it more. You know better. Be the adult and take responsibility for your actions.
  8. Pay attention to your cashier.  Cashiers are people. They are not automated. They would like eye contact, complete attention and respect. They have a job to do. They have quota’s to meet. What you may not care about, they have to. Let them do their job. Don’t interrupt their questions because you heard it before. They see hundreds of people daily. They don’t remember them all. You should know this either by doing it yourself or hearing it all the time. Respect it.
  9. Don’t forget your children.  If you have children with you, don’t forget they also need to be respectful. No climbing on shelving, no spinning racks, no sticky hands on merchandise, and no screaming.  Teach them to respect the line as you do.
  10. Don’t hand over wadded up bills.  Don’t give your cashier wadded up money from your pocket and throw change on the counter. Don’t take money from your bra and hand it over to your cashier. Be respectful and straighten your money out before your pay.  I know some cashiers wish they could hand back your change just as wadded up and throw it up on the counter for you to pick up.  It shows a sign of disrespect to your cashier.