tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89741342874957410392024-03-12T19:43:23.782-05:00borrowing eternityEvery day is borrowed time. You want to be able to use life as well as death as a form of service to something bigger than you; that makes life meaningful. ---Cornel West---Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-59151232788401344612014-01-07T13:37:00.000-06:002014-01-07T13:56:24.692-06:00Only short DecembersIt wasn't so long ago and it seems to have passed out of existence without thought or emotion but recently I heard Counting Crows' "<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/countingcrows/alongdecember.html" target="_blank">Long December</a>" and it brought with it memories of winters past when the days seemed unending and devoid of everything but lack. <br />
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I wonder if I'm saying these things in a manner understandable, because it seems profound to me, how quickly go by the joyful days now. Now that there isn't pining over lost and forsaken loves, spiritual and emotional derision, and the wretched feeling as though the world had moved on and gotten happy without me, while I remained in a loop of "Long December" and Patty Griffin's "<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/pattygriffin/icicles.html" target="_blank">Icicles</a>" ("a lot of oysters but no pearls."... "way more darkness than light"). Now I find myself, suddenly, though almost softly, in the world of the opposite. And it demands notice. Glorious day has broken, and I swim in a sea of pearls. <br />
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And for these things, I am grateful. And though I know there will be inevitably be both darkness and oysters in my future, I am pleased and humbled by the goodness I hold in my timid, shivering hands.<br />
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Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-61364505920445521692012-09-20T09:40:00.002-05:002014-01-07T13:41:48.826-06:00walking<div class="uiStreamMessage userContentWrapper" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="userContent">There
was a while in my life where I didn't feel like God was in the details.
Like maybe God was walking and I was walking and we were parallel but
never touching. Like there were dreams and wishes and hopes and fears
that I never voiced and God never heard because we were always just
walking without touching. Like there was a dividing line between us and
that line was my fault but still God walked with me. rather uninvolved.
but still there nonetheless. And that time lasted for a long long while.
Until now. Now I am in this sweet spot of blessing where even the air
feels holy. Have you ever felt the air feel holy? Like it's been
baptized before it touches your lips. Like the whole world for these
precious moments is charged with the Spirit of God. and God has reached
across and broken the line. and God is holding my hand.</span></span></div>
Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-74631057983019435612012-09-17T14:10:00.001-05:002012-09-17T14:10:53.064-05:00SMU Pony ExpressionsEver want to know where my poems are published online? here you go! <br />
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<a href="http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/2011/06/25/calliope-sounds-by-amanda-barbour/">Calliope Sounds</a><br />
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<a href="http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/2012/07/03/green-by-amanda-barbour/">Green</a><br />
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<a href="http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/2012/07/03/slick-by-amanda-barbour/">Slick</a><br />
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<a href="http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/2012/07/03/pshs-bandroom-brass-storage-tuba-shelf-2-by-amanda-barbour-2/">PSHS Bandroom, Brass Storage, Tuba Shelf #2</a><br />
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<a href="http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/2012/07/03/in-love-and-laundry-by-amanda-barbour/">In Love and Laundry</a><br />
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<a href="http://smuponyexpressions.wordpress.com/2012/07/03/progress-and-the-horse-tiger-by-amanda-barbour/">Progress and the Horse Tiger</a><br />
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<br />Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-83345954745236610752011-11-02T14:10:00.001-05:002011-11-02T14:10:59.591-05:00Rev. Jimmy's gift..."<span style="font-style: italic;">What I believe is that (marriage equality) is a movement of God in history toward community, justice and freedom, and equality, toward the wholeness of the human person and the community, and I don't believe it can be resisted. I don't think even the Church can resist it. ...I do believe that this movement is of God and God will prevail.</span>" Thank you, Rev. Jimmy Creech- Author of Adam's Gift.<br /><br />I attended a lecture today given by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1084602.Jimmy_Creech">Rev. Jimmy Creech</a>. It was moving and affirming and I thought I might share that above quote here because it made me feel hopeful. While I'm not a United Methodist, I think this speaks to more than Methodism and more than just the church's stance on this issue.Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-39898625819011505512011-07-14T09:08:00.002-05:002011-07-14T09:48:54.443-05:00The Civil Wars<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/193m91wA1_g?hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"></iframe><br /><br />Nice way to finish off the day...<br />The Civil Wars performed a short 3-song set at Good Records in Dallas on Wednesday afternoon.<br /><br />I hope you enjoy as much as I did.Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-49128105226123165762011-07-12T09:55:00.005-05:002011-07-12T13:29:02.078-05:00French BraidsI try not to think about the things that haven't happened for me, the way they have for others. But, lately I've been feeling nostalgic. Weird. I know.<br /><br />Yesterday I stopped at a crosswalk where two little girls were crossing with their dad, and one of the girls had her hair in a kind of sideways french braid, kind of diagonal. It was loose and rogue hairs had escaped during furious play. But it was mostly intact. And it made me think of how long she had to sit still that morning as her mother threaded and and braided her hair. And that made me think of the times my sister would herringbone braid my hair, or roll it in pink sponge rollers before bedtime. Family. Swim meets and little league and chasing fireflies in the front yard. Safe schools and safe neighborhoods and walking in Poland Woods through the blue belles. My blue two-wheeler with the banana seat. I thought about how old my siblings were when they had their first children. And how most of them were long-since parents by the time they were my age. They had long been french-braiding the hair of little towheaded girls.<br /><br />My life is different. I have time to myself and I get to choose my schedule and I don't have to worry about how I'm going to take care of anybody else but me (and Libby). It's wonderful, and it's also hard sometimes.<br /><br />I babysit a little girl, she's precious and about to turn two. Her mother is younger than I am. Sometimes I feel old and young all at once. I relate to the mom like I'm younger than her, like we're not even or on the same playing field. It's strange. Because we could be equals. She's only a few months my junior. Sometimes I feel old and young all at once. I know I said that already, but it was worth saying again.<br /><br />I feel like there was a major thoroughfare running straight through the middle of town, and well, I wandered off through a path in the wood. Nearly everyone else was clamoring down the main road and getting married and having families. I'm still wheedling through the woods. It's not bad. It's quiet and I can hear myself think and I can read books and write and study and do whatever I want to. It's not an unequal path, for its goodness and it is at least as enjoyable at times as the thoroughfare.<br /><br />I should really get to some point. But I think we smile at those on the other road - we listen to their stories of diaper rashes and first steps and children in the front yard, of first houses and vacations where families play at the beach. I listen to all these and other stories and I have no idea what that's like. Sometimes I feel like an alien in a married universe. ...and sometimes I take naps just because I want to... in the middle of the day... on a weekend. When's the last time you did that, moms? I try to remember that my life is no less full, despite the fact it has considerably less drama.<br /><br />And I think about the day I'll french braid my own child's hair... or at least a that of a niece or a friend's daughter. I should get practicing. I'm all thumbs when it comes to braiding other people's hair.<br /><br />Thanks sis, for the braids and the curlers and the times spent that make me winsome for times gone by, and times yet to come.Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-5742506258792387762011-06-27T14:41:00.009-05:002011-06-27T15:12:07.633-05:00a lateral moveSo about 5 weeks ago, I came home from work to a notice on my door that the apartment complex was being torn down and I and all my neighbors had a little less than 2 months to vacate.<br /><br />I chose to follow the managements' suggestion and keep my lease with them and for all intents and purposes, merely transfer up the road to a sister property. In the end it was the least expensive option and also required the least amount of time looking for another apartment (an activity I loathe beyond belief).<br /><br />As you can see, I've been packing...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyrugL2c2ZhounoSJV4BO22XB1qgd2ISEcY-ShE8YoonYvjqSk7h_TqZnDSpHinzFAAABUO5jGHhZfbAKisyHXJ0U0dAdVr-Ml9dn22jN1igkXteMz9NDc3P50_-v9tpHRN1woKHrzxYB/s1600/boxes.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyrugL2c2ZhounoSJV4BO22XB1qgd2ISEcY-ShE8YoonYvjqSk7h_TqZnDSpHinzFAAABUO5jGHhZfbAKisyHXJ0U0dAdVr-Ml9dn22jN1igkXteMz9NDc3P50_-v9tpHRN1woKHrzxYB/s320/boxes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622988940902941106" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I'm okay with the move. I've gotten over the initial worry over where to live and how much it's going to cost to move and get set up in a new place. The movers come Friday, and I will be the happy renter of a different apartment, owned by the same management company, with exactly the same square footage as my last place, for exactly the same price, with an only slightly different floor plan. Oh, and it's a half mile (at most) from my current home.<br /><br />I remain hopeful that the new place will offer the same critter-free luxury as my current abode, as I'm still (unsuccessfully) trying to block out memories of the Casa Villa days.<br /><br />I don't recommend making 4 apartment moves in 4 years, although it does keep the clutter to a minimum. Here's hoping at the end of my six-month lease, I am utterly compelled to stay and I find that I've never loved an apartment complex more. ...or that I'm at least moderately satisfied. ;)<br /><br />I want a house.<br /><br />I want to live in one place for longer than 2 years.<br /><br />I want to NOT have to box up everything I own again and again and again.<br /><br />but, I survive a vagabond for the time being... and play the Lotto.... and hope.<br /><br />--------------------<br /><br />What I'm reading:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5gbKqkZKnyxt4bPImn6I8aqxrdk64QEEawbMJYhPXUm8K7HlfwPa9QPV6IurVh_zlYw3g52i1dUE6ytMG6FcsW-4aizY8mDu9AgTVIOPMPgG-TvibS0EQiNaAK0gBO7IsGl2TQZr_uC1/s1600/the-warlock.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 94px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5gbKqkZKnyxt4bPImn6I8aqxrdk64QEEawbMJYhPXUm8K7HlfwPa9QPV6IurVh_zlYw3g52i1dUE6ytMG6FcsW-4aizY8mDu9AgTVIOPMPgG-TvibS0EQiNaAK0gBO7IsGl2TQZr_uC1/s200/the-warlock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622994452319783506" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.dillonscott.com/the-secrets-of-the-immortal-nicholas-flamel/books/the-warlock/">The Warlock: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel (Book 5)</a><br />Michael ScottAmanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-26330451217740576302011-04-04T14:42:00.002-05:002011-04-04T15:06:22.330-05:00tenbyfourteen progress report13.5 hours down... who knew I had it in me to exercise this much in a week? I'm pretty much sore all the time, now - but I'm getting used to it... and I'm looking forward to the day when I don't get sore as quickly, because that will mean I've gotten stronger.<br /><br />Sleeping has also become an issue, mostly because of the soreness and endorphins. I'm finding it difficult to get myself back down to an attitude of rest after the evenings spent in African Dance. But - I'm also hoping my body adjusts to this over time. The hours I do spend sleeping are very restful... but oftentimes I wake up 5-6 times a night, now.<br /><br />The eating went well, but I do know now that I need to be a bit more cautious about snack foods. There was an incident involving a goodly portion of a bag of yogurt-covered raisins in class the other night. I have a difficult time staying awake in class, and while the snacking helped to keep me alert - I really had more than I should have. This week I will pack a correct portion size, and not be tricked into bringing the whole package into the classroom. ...Maybe a protein shake will help with the sleepiness.<br /><br />It rained this morning. We needed the rain, desperately ...but it did keep me from my morning stroll with the pooch. So, I already owe myself (and the Libster) an hour at some other time during the week. But, I'm confident I can make this up. I've scheduled it for Saturday<br /><br />So - this week it will be more of the same:<br />Mon: African Dance = 1.5 hr.<br />Tues: Walk, Water fitness, Cardio-kickboxing = 3.0 hr.<br />Wed: Walk, African Dance = 2.5 hr.<br />Thurs: Water fitness, Cardio-kickboxing = 2 hr.<br />Fri: Walk, Water fitness = 2 hr.<br />Sat: Make-up walk from Monday = 1 hr.<br />Sun: African Dance = 1.5 hr.<br /><br />Total ~ 13.5 hours<br /><br />I'm hoping for one more piece of validation for my birthday celebration... I want to be in my next-size-down jeans. I'm currently in-between, in that "ugh stage" where the current jeans are definitely too large, but the next-size-down jeans look like they've been painted on, and that ain't a good thing... So... ten more days, a few more pounds, several more hours of exercise... and another size. I got this on lock, baby.<br /><br />If I knew getting healthy was this much fun, I'd have done it years ago!Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-32486642154098645232011-03-28T11:35:00.002-05:002011-03-28T11:55:06.312-05:00tenbyfourteen - setting new goalsSo, lately I've been off to the races with my workout schedule and I have found a new rhythm with my eating plan - so it's been exciting to see the scale moving in the downward direction. Also exciting is fitting into clothes better and having my co-workers ask me if this is a new suit, and being able to tell them that it's just one I haven't worn in a while. ...and not having to add why, but knowing why inside, and smiling.<br /><br />My birthday is coming up in a few weeks... 18 days or whatever, but who's counting? And I'm not trolling for celebrations, but what I am doing is making a goal for a birthday gift to myself. I want to lose ten by April 14. I want to stick to my eating and exercise habits for the next 18 days and hope to goodness that I can see the results in time to have some <a href="http://www.amys.com/products/product-detail/desserts/000320">Amy's Chocolate Cake</a> to celebrate. I might even go all out and have TWO servings. It will be my birthday, after all. And I know - ten in 18 days is a lot. I promise to be happy with whatever number comes flashing up from beneath my feet on April 14, as long as I can stick to the eating plan and exercise... if it's not ten, I can still feel great about sticking to it!<br /><br />So - here are my exercise goals for the week:<br />Walking: 1 hour per workout, 4x/week - 4 hours<br />Water Fitness: 1 hour per workout, 3x/week - 3 hours<br />Cardio Kickboxing: 1 hour per workout, 2x/week - 2 hours<br />African Dance: 90 min. per workout, 3x/week - 4.5 hours<br />= ~13.5 hours<br /><br />....I'm putting my game-face on, and thinking about making 33 the best year yet.<br />woop woop!Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-51641461029972145732011-03-04T11:18:00.002-06:002011-03-04T11:21:05.817-06:00Color WashDark night for a dark<br />man with darkest intentions<br /> not sinister or base<br /> but sweet and rich like<br /> velvet on my<br />tongue<br /><br />I want to wrap my arms around your darkness<br />pull you into me<br />color wash my soul<br /><br />I said to you as you pulled on your coat, “If nothing else, we’ve got great stories.”<br />But what if I want<br />something else<br />something more <br />all epilogues being one great story that lingers and continues…<br />its heady scent growing stronger over years<br />darkening<br /><br />as you - I - we color wash this life.<br /><br /><br />------------<br /><br />I wrote this a few months ago, and just happened upon it again today. I think I like it. What do you think?Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-18359913162808637132011-02-15T13:12:00.004-06:002011-02-15T13:20:38.579-06:00West African 101<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> 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Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size:100%;">The first day my body<br />didn't want to move that way<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>I was<br />all knees and elbows<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>flailing<span style=""> </span>tripping<br />tripping over feet<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>both my own and others</span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size:100%;">I slapped a girl<br />It was hand to hand combat on the too small wood floor<br />warped cracked boards tearing<br />at the soles of my feet with every<br />twist<span style=""> </span>twist<span style=""> </span>turn<br />and down<span style=""> </span>right <span style=""> </span>left<span style=""> </span>down</span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size:100%;">but I was<span style=""> </span>beaming<br />my heart like to explode with some<br />combination of adrenaline <span style=""> </span>and<span style=""> </span>joy</span></p> <p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size:100%;">I am a dancer<br />a very poor dancer<br />but the rhythm is in me</span></p>Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-81892018036105530422011-02-14T10:22:00.008-06:002011-02-14T11:20:47.699-06:00listening to the drumming within...I'm all about women's empowerment lately.<br />Mostly I think this has to do with too many times giving up my power, and being delighted to see women in my circle living out theirs. I want that. to embrace my power, and live in it.<br /><br />West African Dance is part of that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4Zl59n5AhZ3T-d58KXNrz_no9C4Oa3Fg6DipXyeCEukVcT4XtIzhMRG7QqqywYzvo6UmVR6O_HrmIsGFqmzgbG3JA3m6Y6eAvxL46_5VxYMMLaIi7-x-CEO_4nopSvcHZ4FFoIqIxwwc/s1600/067.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4Zl59n5AhZ3T-d58KXNrz_no9C4Oa3Fg6DipXyeCEukVcT4XtIzhMRG7QqqywYzvo6UmVR6O_HrmIsGFqmzgbG3JA3m6Y6eAvxL46_5VxYMMLaIi7-x-CEO_4nopSvcHZ4FFoIqIxwwc/s320/067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573583618646014066" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />These are our drummers. They are amazing.<br />I am having a blast learning West African Dance, and I even garnered my first compliment from the instructor last night while learning a new step. Surprisingly - I picked it up the first time out. So - while I still have along way to go before I consider myself a dancer... marked improvement is being made. I signed up to perform in the studio showcase in a few months, it should be a good time.<br /><br />My grad class is also going well, I'm taking a humanities course on Aboriginal Religious Life. We spent the first few weeks studying this book:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Daughters-Copper-Woman-Anne-Cameron/dp/155017245X"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMzl5TfqiYtckv4b1NziWltYwlol5DzKoCTUrgI8RP0QEwad3xGM_I7NVR5HLcbMeu2JjLRVZUZqD-5yG1ex8P_UJ3NDW0XO7OvsG7bgZ5yzxeU1Vl1ZoGx2RClCAXE5m1z3EDUmqOwrr/s1600/51aYTNETU1L._SS500_.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMzl5TfqiYtckv4b1NziWltYwlol5DzKoCTUrgI8RP0QEwad3xGM_I7NVR5HLcbMeu2JjLRVZUZqD-5yG1ex8P_UJ3NDW0XO7OvsG7bgZ5yzxeU1Vl1ZoGx2RClCAXE5m1z3EDUmqOwrr/s200/51aYTNETU1L._SS500_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573587731423088146" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Daughters-Copper-Woman-Anne-Cameron/dp/155017245X"><br />Daughters of Copper Woman</a><br />by Anne Cameron<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It's a bunch of creation myths and stories from a group of Northwestern Indians. They are very matriarchal, and all of the stories are woman-centered. It's an interesting read for those willing to open their minds to other perspectives on creation. I wholeheartedly enjoyed it. ...and I will not be selling it back to the bookstore at the end of the semester - which is always a good test of a textbook, I think. And, I like that it gives us a break from the androcentric viewpoint.<br /><br />--------------------------------------------------<br /><br />I need to write.<br />There, I said it.<br />I've been pretty happy of late, and as per usual, my contentedness has led to less need (and/or perhaps less time) for creative outlet. But, that said, I need to write.<br />I'll let you know when that happens.<br /><br />The next books on my list:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dvSnxFsAOhH6Zdx9hkislnDXMi5lrx-6EWOqZUgFDNP6jFylhzh3OUzkrQ5dYnK1Zganr35CO9OJRXH0qIkt2RcBIbWQqyVSqGcOX6D9b7OhXw0kCIZnhwlwbCGsIGJRmA12_iJY1l6-/s1600/way+of+the+shaman.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 154px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dvSnxFsAOhH6Zdx9hkislnDXMi5lrx-6EWOqZUgFDNP6jFylhzh3OUzkrQ5dYnK1Zganr35CO9OJRXH0qIkt2RcBIbWQqyVSqGcOX6D9b7OhXw0kCIZnhwlwbCGsIGJRmA12_iJY1l6-/s200/way+of+the+shaman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573591586621029042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Way of the Shaman<br />by Michael Harner<br /><br />...for my grad class<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41NaQVSCQfL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 153px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41NaQVSCQfL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Commencement<br />by <span class="bxgy-binding-byline"><span class="bxgy-byline-text"> J. Courtney Sullivan<br /><br />....for my book club<br /></span></span>Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-52422881868730740232011-01-03T09:21:00.007-06:002011-01-03T09:49:55.282-06:00A letter to 2011Dear 2011,<br /><br />It's me, Amanda. I don't need to tell you that your friends, 2010, 2009 and 2008 have not been all that nice to me. Sure, we shared some laughs and we made it. But, when the chips were down, they just didn't come through. And I'm not necessarily looking to lay blame, because I didn't hold up my end of the bargain either. But, that was then and those days are behind us. So, 2011, you and I, I think we really got something. And it's worth fighting for.<br /><br />So, let's fight together for every ounce of joy ahead of us.<br />Lets suck the marrow from this year and squeeze every drop of sweetness from the vine.<br />Let's hold nothing back and leave it all out of the field.<br /><br />So, here's our song, let's sing it loud:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gloria</span> (Michael Franti & Spearhead)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">When many little people in many little places do many little things,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">then the whole world changes. But sometimes not fast enough for me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You see I'm just a little man, trying hard to understand</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What kind of living is a life if I can't stand on my own two feet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You see we are looking for the same thing, and we are trying to survive.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But I know each day in life don't get much easier than the last,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So today I'm just glad to be alive.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And I'm singing:Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, stay by my side.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, I'm glad to be alive.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm glad to be alive.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I think that life is a blessing, and every step, every lesson,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You offer love and protection to those in need.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To all my mothers and fathers and all the angels who saved me,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm so glad to be alive.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Seems like there's never enough time to do the things I wanna do</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And it never ends. But at the end of the day I might not have no money to count or spend,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But I know I can count on all my friends. (call on me)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">See we are looking for the same thing</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And we are trying to survive</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And I know each day in life with you gets better than the last</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So today I'm just glad to be alive</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And I'm singing</span>: <span style="font-style: italic;">Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, stay by my side</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, I'm glad to be alive</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Glad to be alive</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm just trying to find a way to say</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm just trying to find a way to say</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't you ever, ever, ever go away</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">When many little people in many little places</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Do many little things, then the whole world changes</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But I just want you next to me</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And I'm singing</span>: <span style="font-style: italic;">Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, stay by my side</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, I'm glad to be alive</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Glad to be alive</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Singing</span>: <span style="font-style: italic;">Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, stay by my side</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, I'm glad to be alive</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm glad to be alive</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm glad to be alive.</span><br /><br />-----<br /><br />So, 2011 - - whats say you and me take it to a whole 'nother level?<br />We got this.<br />It's gonna be a great year.<br /><br />Peace and Love. lots of both.<br />------------------------------------<br /><br />What I'm listening to:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sE-DgrUZoj4KdUZ51SB2ff1TZtYJh4djMjnCD9Ivv1I7AvJuQr4NjISGJm32XP_5Mf4qknmSZiK298KiZ38tcog8sjBwM8vUG4_ihjX6Zfpn3ZsoFJZ8YjmK6Ixr9RUGaPOM9zEsueZH/s1600/Sound+of+Sunshine.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 129px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sE-DgrUZoj4KdUZ51SB2ff1TZtYJh4djMjnCD9Ivv1I7AvJuQr4NjISGJm32XP_5Mf4qknmSZiK298KiZ38tcog8sjBwM8vUG4_ihjX6Zfpn3ZsoFJZ8YjmK6Ixr9RUGaPOM9zEsueZH/s200/Sound+of+Sunshine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557984161468565266" border="0" /></a><a href="http://michaelfranti.com/media/albums/sound-sunshine">Michael Franti & Spearhead</a><br />The Sound of Sunshine<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What I'm Reading:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggbSn2gcUOh-wBgsPglNOh6HHVaxEW-RkUULqp_mTpeNbJw8HkBd9pCBkbMWX-nLayTfA6UvhJOIUJL5U3BpOqqgMSUzfW_REsU9ZHguVR_GCfyWqcEgpSXfBq9et7O9lydjaXrkHRv3G7/s1600/meeting+family.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 112px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggbSn2gcUOh-wBgsPglNOh6HHVaxEW-RkUULqp_mTpeNbJw8HkBd9pCBkbMWX-nLayTfA6UvhJOIUJL5U3BpOqqgMSUzfW_REsU9ZHguVR_GCfyWqcEgpSXfBq9et7O9lydjaXrkHRv3G7/s200/meeting+family.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557985069288015154" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PcQ-_7wiQxA">Meeting the Family</a><br />Donovan WebsterAmanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-2375891976780095222010-12-03T10:17:00.006-06:002010-12-03T10:31:46.777-06:00Tale of a Chicken...So, I think it all went well with the chicken. I used <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/04/herb-roasted-whole-chicken/">this recipe</a> from the Pioneer Woman and her friend, Ryan.<br /><br />I didn't have any canola oil and I regretted not picking up any at the store, because of the lower smoking point of other oils. I ended up using veggie oil, and it worked with only a few trips to towel-fan the smoke detector. Libby was no fan of the beeping alarm.<br /><br />So here's a before and after:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjISD0Kq73WoZgm5R6zMbUxmhChdKMYmd5-v_osTWz03_U9RozXzCk2ptaxRqv3lhZAqegl6-GD_euQo2l5TCnuc8kIyTKtOytzg73PT_Q_9J_-dMhyrNvxf5EWZfejo5rFFEMqpqSXLIpm/s1600/IMG_0143.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjISD0Kq73WoZgm5R6zMbUxmhChdKMYmd5-v_osTWz03_U9RozXzCk2ptaxRqv3lhZAqegl6-GD_euQo2l5TCnuc8kIyTKtOytzg73PT_Q_9J_-dMhyrNvxf5EWZfejo5rFFEMqpqSXLIpm/s200/IMG_0143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546492264023819858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOeeZLJUr-_Onu6OiTBr5pUHdEC8RfWTJEpAD3fHyahASZZQswwjT8yb6mUIb46Z5jTnbf04K9HG9Ixy_jicBcCMlL4BDB27BMTsVNpasOODJRVLAOf0chqGWALl77n2TbdDRpTNSs1EG/s1600/IMG_0144.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOeeZLJUr-_Onu6OiTBr5pUHdEC8RfWTJEpAD3fHyahASZZQswwjT8yb6mUIb46Z5jTnbf04K9HG9Ixy_jicBcCMlL4BDB27BMTsVNpasOODJRVLAOf0chqGWALl77n2TbdDRpTNSs1EG/s200/IMG_0144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546492270179199874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It turned out pretty great. I pulled about 5 small baggies of meat from the carcass. So I'll probably freeze two for soup, and use the other three for meals. Tonight, I'll attempt the making of stock from the leftover bits. Hopefully with equally great results.<br /><br />So far my December plan has been going along very well, and my body has begun to show its happiness and gratitude. I've shed a few pounds and all-around I'm starting to feel better.<br /><br />...and Libby is much enjoying the longer morning walks.<br />So it's good for all of us, really. :)Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-70497170713373420172010-11-30T13:09:00.004-06:002011-02-14T11:09:12.233-06:00on bugeting and healthier living...So I've kept a record of nearly every dime I've earned and spent this year. (I don't keep track of cash - so that's just listed as occasional ATM withdrawals - but I do most of my debits with my debit card anyway). And what have I learned? I spend too much, and most of that comes down to laziness, and most of that has to do with food purchases. I spent easily twice what was necessary on food because it's just easier to swing by someplace and pick up something, whether that be a grocer, a deli, or fast food. But - I actually like to cook. I've just gotten out of the habit.<br /><br />I have also gained a few unwanted pounds this year, to no surprise.<br /><br />So, welcome December. December is my new year. I'm starting early. Going to get a jump on the resolution crowd waiting until January. I'm going to attempt to cook or otherwise prepare all the food I consume this month. This means no eating out, unless it's purely social - and even that, I would like to see cut back to next to nothing. It doesn't make sense, for my health and for my finances to keep spending money on food this way. Also, the portion sizes are too large and the overall health of the food I eat out is questionable at best. So - here goes. For this evening, I have purchased a whole chicken. My first whole chicken I've ever prepared. Now, I have done one turkey, so how much different can it be? But, I figure I can get at least 3-4 meals from the meat on the bird, and also make stock from the leftover bits. So, I'm kindof excited about that... because the chicken was only about $5.<br /><br />I'll post tomorrow about how it goes, and maybe even do a few pictures.<br /><br />And I'll try to blog about my experience through the month - about how it goes with trying not to eat out or result to quick drive-thru meals... and hopefully about other healthy choices and their happy consequences.<br /><br /><br />What I'm reading:<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Harry-Potter-Deathly-Hallows-Rowling/dp/0739360388/ref=tmm_abk_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1291145862&sr=1-1">Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows</a> (audiobook)<br />J.K. Rowling<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hodder.co.uk/Assets/Features/One%20Day1.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 103px; height: 161px;" src="http://www.hodder.co.uk/Assets/Features/One%20Day1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/One-Day-Vintage-Contemporaries-Original/dp/0307474712/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1291145826&sr=1-1">One Day</a><br />David Nicholls<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.harpercollins.com/harperimages/isbn/medium/9/9780060921149.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 102px; height: 157px;" src="http://www.harpercollins.com/harperimages/isbn/medium/9/9780060921149.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Animal-Dreams-Barbara-Kingsolver/dp/0060921145">Animal Dreams</a><br />Barbara KingsolverAmanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-64481965026744378192010-11-12T10:58:00.008-06:002010-11-17T12:36:15.356-06:00VocaliseYou were the notes on the page<br />The notes and the chords<br />Curly-Que’d reminders red penned in margins<br />Begging BREATHE<br /><br />Slender painted fingers mirrored on the fall of a<br />nine foot black baby grand,<br />taught me to trust the noise from my body<br />Could be music<br />pulled room-spinning resonance from my<br />Shy sixteen year old frame.<br /><br />As nervous Doc Martens perched<br />on an ornate maroon Persian rug,<br />threads of worn denim mingled<br />with those from other worlds.<br />And unknown words in other languages teased<br />my tongue when you were near.<br /><br />You were the light in the corner<br />The amber-soaked pages<br />and the sounds of their swift turnings.<br />You were all the music in the room.<br />All the music in the world.<br /><br />You were the notes on the page<br />The notes and the chords<br />You are the light in the corner<br />And all the music in me.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://articles.chicagotribune.com/1996-07-30/news/9607300193_1_chicago-opera-theater-opera-companies-sang">For Deborah Dunn Rumble</a>Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-85374591731909907682010-10-06T12:09:00.010-05:002010-10-06T12:17:20.183-05:00Civil Rights PilgrimageIn the Spring of 2009, I took a class and subsequent trip to discover our Civil Rights heritage and continuing journey. I have finally collected some of my writings from that tour and share them here...<br /><br />------------------------------<br /><br />“If you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice; say that I was a drum major for peace; I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter.”<br /> -Martin Luther King, Jr.<br /><br />Reflections<br /><br />I am in a fishbowl<br />wide bulbous eyes glare<br />but the glass separates<br />the glass<br />ostracizes glass<br />glass ceiling<br />glass wall demarking a segregated waiting room<br /><br />I will never know how it feels<br />the sensation of<br />that particular brand of<br />fear<br /> of fury<br />passion erupting when he cried out<br /> <br />THEY KILLED OUR DRUM MAJOR<br /><br />I looked through the glass<br />camera lens and<br />snapped a photo<br /><br />---------------------<br /><br /><br />The Ripple affects<br /><br />It started with small hands and wide<br />Eyes looking<br />Looking for freedom for<br />Righteousness<br />A few grains of sand can<br />Change the tide<br />A few hands<br />Clap Clap Clapping out a foreign rhythm<br />An African beat the<br />Gospel percussion of a single dreamer<br />Battle cry of a generation<br />My sons and daughters cry out<br />For change change change<br />For FREEDOM<br /><br />crying out like children often do<br />crying out like children with their<br />small hands balled in fists<br />small hands and wide eyes staring<br />small miracles<br />begin<br />a revolution<br /><br />---------------------------<br /><br /><br />Bloody Sunday<br /><br />A man in a dapper black suit and bowler hat marches in front of me. He is seventy or more. I busy myself taking photographs, star-struck by dignitaries and yet here in my sight view, I also snap this frame, the outline of black bowler against so infamous a bridge and I wonder what was his story.<br /><br />I don’t make a habit of talking to strangers. The very act makes my heart seize, the breath<br />Short. I’m not certain the source or reason for this fear. The look in his eyes. Haunting.<br />An opportunity missed for the connection, the immersion, I was so certain I desired.<br />The segregation is in me.<br /><br />---------------------------<br /><br /><br />US-80 W<br /><br />Driving, or well, riding, as the case may be, down this road from Selma to Montgomery is something of a trail of tears experience for me. I look at the two lane highway with its grassy median and try to imagine the rich soil beneath. This Black Belt – Lowndes County soil and the share-croppers who once picked cotton here, day in and day out. I stare down the road imagining the thousands of marchers making their way on a wide dirt road.<br />I see tent cities and determination. Conjure visions of the outstretched masses gaining to some twenty-five thousand by the time they reached Montgomery. They are singing freedom songs. In these individuals bound together is the richness of this Black Belt soil.<br /><br />The kind of foundation of firmament from which good things can grow.<br /><br />--------------------------------------<br /><br /><br />Archives at Ole Miss<br /><br />A table littered with hatred mass-produced<br />mimeographed pamphlets demanding the right<br />God-given at times<br />to segregate and denigrate a people, a race<br /><br />And we move closer to see their eyes<br />This darkness of skin pigment, other<br />subtle ways we separate<br /><br />We move in to touch these<br />advertisements, an invitation to join the Klan<br />Slave records<br />N’ words<br />Hate<br />Hate<br />The audacity of Hate<br /><br />How can this be overcome?Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-83388580686730494032010-09-30T18:58:00.005-05:002010-10-06T09:40:24.798-05:00Calliope SoundsWhat a funhouse mirror is love<br />Our carnival act closed on a<br />Two bit train to another town<br />You the tattooed strong man mustachioed and bald<br />Vulnerable flesh concealed by <br />Sleeves of translucent dyes<br />Patterned scales and tribal offerings.<br /><br />What was I but your Pagliacci<br />Sad clown to make you smile<br />Our tragedy a comic affair<br />Now that years have swept the last of<br />Cotton candied sweetness<br />From our sudden summer spectacle.<br /><br />I look for you among lion tamers<br />And stilt-toting tall men<br />You the organ grinder<br />With your dance monkey dance<br />Who will play for me<br />When the train moves on?Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-2046832042339315312010-09-22T14:54:00.000-05:002010-09-22T14:55:15.373-05:00More recent poemsBibliophile<br /><br />This one was put in a jacket<br />Binding cracked, chapter three now removable<br />As if its words, quite unnecessary<br />Could be dispensed of entirely<br />Dependent on the reader’s mood<br /><br />These time-yellowed pages, a second skin<br />I admit much smoother than my own<br />She carries her own set of scars<br />A coffee stain on page seventy-three I could<br />Attribute to the dog but I’d be lying<br /><br />Lines on margin notes<br />Small doodled stars and open<br />Circles perhaps she is<br />More pocked than I<br />The years I have studied her<br /><br />Her form now safely shelved<br />This simple covering<br />Betrays not her condition<br />Both well worn<br />And well loved<br /><br />------------------------------------------------<br /><br />For L., now five years mine<br /><br />Recumbent Anubis<br />Ears piqued to grasp the breath of a dying dream<br />Creases of skin and hair black as the dead of night<br />Black as the Nile soil from which you came<br />Jackal Terror Guardian at the Gate<br /><br />Take this heart to the scales of Ma'at and weigh it<br />Is there truth enough in me<br />Love enough in these deeds<br /><br />Mercy me Anubis<br />As I follow you through the dark<br />To the tombs of my Fathers<br />My Kings and my priests<br /><br />Scavenge this remnant to the Kingdom of Osiris<br />Smile on me with feral eye<br />Something so familiar<br />My companion in this world<br />Guide in the next<br /><br />------------------------Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-50784515365213122642010-09-02T09:39:00.006-05:002010-09-02T10:20:50.105-05:00Creating Poetry - FNAR 6394Last night our prompt was "today, I started..."<br /><br />today I started shifting<br />like the sky in a storm<br />blue to gray and green even<br />darkening and darkening<br /><br />did you see it when the light flashed?<br />my face a fury, the dream and its awakening<br />the bliss and the afterglow<br />the summit and the space from which once crested the summit can be seen<br /><br />today I am a changeling<br />both a part of you and yet my own<br />I am a weed, a wild thing, dandelion<br />weave me in bracelets and bangles, tether me as you will<br />but I will not be beholding<br /><br />-----------<br /><br />What I'm reading:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://twitchfilm.net/news/abraham-lincoln-vampire-hunter.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 193px;" src="http://twitchfilm.net/news/abraham-lincoln-vampire-hunter.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter<br /><br />by Seth Grahame-Smith<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/0151004196.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 187px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/0151004196.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>How to Read a Poem and Fall in Love with Poetry<br /><br />by Edward HirschAmanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-43456748017309213772010-08-12T08:45:00.003-05:002010-08-12T10:36:49.242-05:00As Requested by Amo... or, how I found out I'm stronger than I ever knewIt's been a long time since I posted, cause you know... sometimes things get <span style="font-style: italic;">ROUGH</span>. And when you're in the middle, you know nobody wants to hear the story yet. It's hard to even tell it because it's unfinished. You're in the bleak and you haven't yet learned the blessed lessons of the dark. But now, now I can see my way into the light. I'm not quite there but man, there's gonna be a brighter day (about this time next week, give or take a couple of days).<br /><br />I'm moving. I know, I know... the last post was all about how I loved my neighborhood. And I still love this neighborhood. It's just the neighbors I'm not crazy about... specifically, the six-legged neighbors. About two months ago, the roaches started. I've got a mixture of German and Brown Banded cockroaches that have taken up residence in my apartment walls. No matter how many times I have tried to evict them, they still refuse to leave. I have resulted to open murder, hired professionals and in some cases, genocide-like warfare. Still they hang on.<br /><br />So, I got out of my lease. I'm tucking my tail, packing my things - and only my things - and leaving. I'm heading about 3 miles North, so technically, still East Dallas. But, a better leasing company with a great reputation. I'm super excited, as you can imagine.<br /><br />But I learned some things about myself in the midst of trial by roaches:<br /><ol><li>I can totally survive on the one meal a day I microwave at my office. The apartment has become a food-free zone. I'm sure this will change when I have a functional kitchen again, but it's a good exercise to live on less.</li><li>I have too many things. Too many things for roaches to crawl upon. So, in the process of packing, I have gotten rid of probably a third of my belongings. Thank you Goodwill and East Dallas Freecycling. <br /></li><li>...and probably most stunningly, I've had to take a hard look at my sense of entitlement... how many times I have cried out that I don't deserve to live like this. But - why not? What makes me better or more deserving of living without calamity?<br /></li></ol>Certainly, I don't want to, nor do I feel convicted to stay in the apartment with all of its excess tenants. That's not the point. But, maybe I can take with me this bit of humility. Surely, the three or four cockroaches I kill nearly everyday are not the worst thing I could experience. It's bad. And I won't soon forget these past two months... but ultimately, this is something I can and will live through, and something that will not alter the path of my life.<br /><br />and further... I get to see most wonderful friends this weekend.<br />I get to hug necks and take zany pictures and love on friends I haven't seen in far too long.<br />does anything else really matter?<br /><br />Brighter days are ahead, my friends.Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-40620465069371849342010-03-10T10:02:00.005-06:002010-09-02T09:35:18.939-05:00I live in East Dallas.Everyday I walk down streets that take me back in time.<br /><br />tree-lined lanes that look like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_RCtbwjU0g2w/SCEonlexSnI/AAAAAAAACns/MxaC3sEzPpQ/s640/CIMG1035.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 407px; height: 304px;" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_RCtbwjU0g2w/SCEonlexSnI/AAAAAAAACns/MxaC3sEzPpQ/s640/CIMG1035.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />it's like something caught up out of a dream<br />a movie set from a place that only exists in memory<br /><br />Libby and I stroll down these streets near dawn each day and it's a blessing. It's nostalgia and hot cocoa and apple pies cooling on the windowsill. It's a dream and a wish held together and these kinds of neighborhoods aren't being built anymore. It's more than the clapboard and columns, the sidewalks set in off the road. It's wholesome and it makes me feel safe. I imagine the tenants feel safe, too. safe, and proud.<br /><br />I live in a two bedroom apartment in a building out on Gaston and it's nothing like these - but I get to share in all this neighborhood offers because it's mine too.<br /><br />This past week there was a <a href="http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/localnews/stories/DN-swissmurder_08met.ART.State.Edition2.4baa8bc.html">murder</a> in my neighborhood.<br />And I guess I share in that, too.<br />I share in the grief and the shock and the feelings of violation.<br />Aghast that someone could take the life of a harmless eccentric old man.<br /><br />I understand maybe a little more why some of the homes are barred, though I'll always wish it didn't have to be that way. The truth is that simply because it's east doesn't make it any less dallas. and while one block looks as whimsical as <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Victor+st.+dallas&oe=utf-8&client=firefox-a&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Victor+St,+Dallas,+Texas&gl=us&ei=WtCXS7iSKM2UtgfD-sTkAQ&ved=0CAcQ8gEwAA&ll=32.799062,-96.76275&spn=0.005925,0.009645&z=17&layer=c&cbll=32.799135,-96.763471&panoid=VYw2zIT1pQmjBBTZDoYC7w&cbp=12,11.1,,0,-9.32">Victor between Munger and Colette</a>, the next block's homes have suffered unholy surgery; chopped into four and five unit apartments, unkempt and showing their age. and always the homeless are among us.<br /><br />but it's such a great metaphor for all of us, I think - and that's maybe why I love it here so much. Parts of all of us are like a dream of something wholesome and sweet and homemade. and parts of all of us have been violated, or have aged without care. I'm in this neighborhood. I'm in the streets and the hillsides, in both the rotting clapboard and whitewashed window boxes full of pansies. I can see that even the most abandoned of homes was at once hope for the best life imaginable, a place where home and family and a piece of the american dream was all anybody ever really wanted anyway. It's caught up in the bones of these homes - good strong homes that will continue to line East Dallas long after I am gone. They whisper to me... that the dream is still alive.Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-55798415041576601452010-02-09T11:28:00.004-06:002010-02-09T12:02:13.329-06:00...in which I am corny and talk about thankfulness and The Neverending StoryI suppose it's mostly during the rough times when I stop long enough to think about how good I've got it. Sure there have been a lot of tears and scary nights recently - but mostly it boils down to a lot of near misses and even though we've taken some hits, it seems most if not all of them will heal - given the right amount of time and treatment.<br /><br />some things I'm thankful for, in no particular order (and by no means a complete list):<br /><ul><li>I've got GREAT parents. Okay, okay - Dr. Spock or whatever parenting expert you want to poll might have frowned upon a few of their "unorthodox" methods and no they didn't always do everything right - but they're mine and I love them and I wouldn't trade a day I get to spend with them.<br /></li><li>my siblings are pretty keen, too. We don't hardly ever see each other and there are like a dozen or so years between me and them - but differences in time zones and age don't negate care. We've had more good phonecalls lately then I think we have in the last several years combined. ...and I like that. I think I'll try to be better about making regular calls to my brother and sister - 'cause I think they're pretty amazing individuals and I think maybe we're finally old enough to bridge some kind of substantial relationship.</li><li>This day. Today, the people I love are still with me. I have wonderful and brilliant friends. I'm relatively healthy, as are those whom I love. and as long as these things remain true, each new day is a gift I want to hold out just for a moment and admire. </li></ul>It makes me think of that scene near the end of The Neverending Story:<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2noq4itRq3Y">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2noq4itRq3Y</a><br /><br />...where the empress holds out the one remaining grain of sand, all that is left of Fantasia. Each day, each moment when all of our hopes and dreams are still alive - when the people we love are near - each moment is locked up in that glistening grain of sand and we hold it out and we build from there. If I have these things - I have all I need. I have all the world and all the vast possibilities in my open hand.Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-36834519546861204812010-01-26T11:51:00.004-06:002010-01-26T12:27:30.295-06:00a poemsomewhere there is a poem<br />to inspire me<br />to breathe<br />this simple involuntary act that seems to require<br />so much effort<br />since the rains came<br /><br />poem take my hand and teach me<br />the rhythms of getting through<br />the steps to cross over<br />a dance so holy as to rise above<br />take flight<br />take on<br />all the demons facing us<br />and fling them back to their<br />unearthly home<br /><br />poem build in me a fire<br />whose embers will last<br />through this unyielding winter<br />flames to lick the sky and<br />laugh at its chill<br />enough smoke to signal some hope to those<br />who wait for our safe return<br /><br />poem I know it's a lot to ask<br />but you have done it before<br />and I know<br />I know<br />together<br />we're gonna make it through<br /><br /><br />***<br /><br />What I'm reading:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcbvKVRMg8Gm1-mZRwENA5BKMG-kEp_wiPi3CaaeX3McIPJ4EGJBRlj-XdgqJmg49OsdhS-0XK5i3r1LF56KCJNJRE28m0y8nU2Clerm4_kvLQXjk95CThws63mfxcWfaTgVZNcxu-bERa/s1600-h/the-hunger-games-trilogy-catching-fire-8308342-1280-800.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcbvKVRMg8Gm1-mZRwENA5BKMG-kEp_wiPi3CaaeX3McIPJ4EGJBRlj-XdgqJmg49OsdhS-0XK5i3r1LF56KCJNJRE28m0y8nU2Clerm4_kvLQXjk95CThws63mfxcWfaTgVZNcxu-bERa/s320/the-hunger-games-trilogy-catching-fire-8308342-1280-800.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431116104064112178" border="0" /></a>The Hunger Games<br />and<br />Catching Fire<br /><br />by Suzanne CollinsAmanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974134287495741039.post-90123366909370542232010-01-04T09:26:00.007-06:002010-01-04T10:02:53.567-06:002010 - no regrets<span><span style="font-style: italic;">I know you've got a little life in you yet</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I know you've got a lot of strength left...</span><br /><br />These years, these days that pile upon days - they're hard on all of us. hard on me.<br /><br />but today is a new day and a new year and I'm trying to start something. and maybe start something by ending some things. I know I'm being cryptic, but it's my right... if you know me, I'm sure you can imagine some of the things I could end and be better for the ending.<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JYxc5ftEzg"><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JYxc5ftEzg</a><br /><br />It's probably difficult to understand how the above link can be an anthem for new beginnings, but I think it talks a lot about regrets. We all have them, regrets about relationships, about personal goals unfulfilled. I don't want them this year. This year - I want to do right by me.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">...All the things we should've said that were never said</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">All the things we should've done that we never did </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">All the things that</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> you wanted from me<br />All the things that that you needed</span><span><span style="font-style: italic;"> from me</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">All the things I should of given but I didn't</span></span><span><br /><br />I want to say and do what I need to this year.<br />In some ways, I want to take my own hand and do what I need to do<br />for me.<br /><br />...and perhaps allow myself the freedom to let go of some things - so I can grab hold of of what I need. I'm standing on the cusp of a new year, and I've got a lot of strength left.<br /><br /><br />What I'm reading:<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazon.com/Bookseller-Kabul-Asne-Seierstad/dp/0316159417/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1262620921&sr=1-1"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 87px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX6wdUbTEIvCEgxxPTFGpIM68fewhpsL738-fLchFX5vNalFxZorczjW0KlJ0aFC5AV8Nk49Okj76A9gGUxJ__Gd5nUkq9JDjbvlhPWSGF7AtkUlC0kf-iHqW-FhPcULcdRvRliif6B42L/s320/asne_seierstad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422915091393340274" border="0" /></a>The Bookseller of Kabul<br />by <span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&sort=relevancerank&search-alias=books&field-author=Asne%20Seierstad">Asne Seierstad</a> </span>Amanda Barbourhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03619367186407651332noreply@blogger.com1