Confession Tuesday - A Word On Thoughts and Prayers

Dear Reader:

It's been 13 more indictments in the Russia Election Influence investigation by the Special Counsel Robert Mueller, Untold self-injurious tweets by our president,  two more legitimate draft poems and untold musings, mummers, pointless scribbles, one Amazon order, one meeting with my old mentor Ken and an event, and three weeks since my last confession.

You can almost count the passage of time based on your Amazon orders. Well, at least that is true with certain consumable products like our calcium supplement. Not so much books, because they get ordered in spurts.  I'm not sure this is a good thing, but I suppose if I wasn't having it delivered to my door, I'd be driving over town to purchase it.

Time has been skipping along and whistling a happy tune and then, I realize it's only 16 days till AWP. That means I need to get people at work ready to cover my responsibilities. It means I still have to narrow down my schedule for the conference, and at the same time throw myself into a stress frenzy. Oh wait, I confess the stress frenzy has already started. It just seems that time has been flying like a bat out of hell.

The meeting with Ken Waldman came almost as a surprise. We write each other just after the first of the year to catch up with each other. They a week ago I got an email from Ken saying that he signed up to work the Writer 2 Writer booth at AWP at the same time slot I had taken so we could be there together. Then he let me know he was doing an event at a local bookstore if I had time to stop by. I did have time and I did stop by. I confess it was one of those crazy things that came about almost on the spur of the moment. Time always seems full of surprises. Some better than the others.

I finished a Journal I believe I started in September. I confess I'm always excited to get a fresh refill and start again. It's kind of like a cleansing thing. I can step on the floor mat and wipe my feet off before entering the new one. I have untold numbers of journals - I can't quite recall what year I started writing but I know it was before 2000. Maybe this summer I will attempt to arrange them in chronological order.  I still flip through them periodically to get old bits and pieces of writing to bring to the page and try once again to bring some life into them. I confess I don't revisit these as often as I should. Maybe that is something for me to work on this year. After all, how we feel about something we've written sometimes strikes us quite differently a week, six months, three years down the road. This means we can refine it or embellish it to modify where we are going with it.

Lastly, I confess that I am tired of public officials replying to school shootings by saying they are playing for the victims because we all have much more we can do. I'm not against prayer, but if you are not going to offer prayer and commit to taking some positive action to assure efforts to minimize the gun violence will be personally made, your prayers are hollow.

Until next confession, seek joy, be safe & peace!

Her Poetry is in the Beads

Beadwork by CJ Wells

My wife completed her first beading project of the new year.  I'm going to brag a bit about it because I really love the colors and texture of this piece of beadwork. She is very accomplished with her bead art and has done far more challenging projects but this one is so nice because the colors and design are just so pleasing that it is calming just to look at.  

One thing that I have always wanted to do is collaborative where she does a piece of bead art - perhaps abstract and I wrote a poem the response to it. We've talked about it - though she is not into abstract as much as I am. Still, one day I think it will happen. 

Confession Tuesday - The Personal Identity Edition

Dear Reader:

It's another hit of cold and snow, another birthday, $145 (at last count) raised for the Blind Cat Rescue and Sanctuary, three more fricking recorded calls that start out "there is nothing wrong with your credit cards..." WELL DUH! They are all paid off! Lots more reading & writing, my DNA results arriving, and another week since my last confession.


So Monday, the long-awaited, much-anticipated email arrived with the results of my "spit" in a tube.  On the right, you will find the results. I confess I am not majorly surprised. I anticipated the Irish, Scottish, Welsh role in my ancestry would be maybe 20%.  I also anticipated England would figure in...  I was maybe surprised that it was as much as 38%.  Europe West at 35% seemed like a lot, but when you realize that it accounts for all the influence of ancestors from Belgium, France, Germany, Netherlands, Switzerland, Luxembourg, and Liechtenstein, that 35% could be quite splintered up.

The 3% Iberian Peninsula represents Spain and Portugal.

The 3% Scandinavia represents  Norway, Sweden and Denmark.

The Caucasus would include  Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Iran, Iraq, Syria and Turkey and the made up 2%.

Finland/Northwest Russia less than 1%

Europe South - as in Greece and Italy, less than 1%.

East Europe - This includes  Poland, Slovakia, Austria, Russia, Hungry, Slovenia, Romania, Serbia, Ukraine, Belarus, Moldova, Lithuania, Latvia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia also less than 1%.

The other surprise is the Caucasus leaves me feeling a strange connection to these countries whose history is steeped in war, conflict and sadness.

I confess that I think it is good for people to have a realization about from where they have come. Who their ancestors are, not just parents and grandparents. Would so many people today be up in arms about immigrants if they realized where their roots lead back to?  Would the world seem so big? Would we feel as steadfast in a singular "American" nationality? And unless we have native American roots, American nationality is a bit of a misnomer.

I confess I have been fascinated by this information. I already have a family tree mapped out a bit and have slowly been trying to take it back further, but this information adds a new dimension. It sort of jettisons me back in beyond the individual family trees.

Perhaps another reason this all feels exciting is that I grew up with very little contact with my father and the whole paternal side of my family. This always left me feeling as though I didn't really know who I was. It was like a piece of my identity was missing. As a child, I always felt I was something less than most everyone else.

I am wondering how this information may inform my writing in the future. I confess that I see it as adding some texture to my view of my life, and that can't but help make me a deeper writer.

That's my confession for this week. I hope we all remember we came from someplace, even if it was from under a rock.