seek and you shall find
- Dear Winn – 6 February 2016 thebeautifuldue.wordpress.com/2016/02/06/dea… 1 hour ago
- RT @PlumeBooks: Widsom for #writing a #memoir from @suemonkkidd. More in @meredithmaran's #whywewriteaboutourselves! https://t.co/I4NdnMmfvf 15 hours ago
- I may let y'all do Lent this year w/out me. The thought of it's making me tired, and we ain't even started. I may change my mind, but... 15 hours ago
Hi, my name is John Blase. Most credos I’ve read start with the words I/we believe. I won’t do that, or maybe better put, I can’t do that. My credo, if it can even be called such a thing, rides piggyback on the slithering black curved back of the lovely question mark. I don’t have many answers, but I do have questions… Why is it that my father raised me on a diet of the King James Bible and western movies that, as it turned out, was magically delicious? Why is it that I live out West and love out West but I’ll always be from the South? Why am I most at ease in those in-between moments of dusk? Why am I a storyteller who, unlike a historian, must follow the trail of compassion wherever it leadeth? Why do I not equate talking with thinking? Why do I try to not run yellow lights, ever? Why do I prefer the words melancholy to organized and ache to closure? Why do I put all my eggs in the basket of grace, a grace that if its grace at all will one day drive me to my glass-clearly-knees as I whisper simply amazing? Why do I cry every time, every blessed time, when Linus says lights, please and gives his that’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown speech? Why do I feel in the very marrow of my bones that contrary to wildly successful first lines, it actually is about you…and me?