Monthly Archives: April 2012

Living is

Living is.

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One Tree Hill, It’s Powerful TV

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When I lose my way these days.. I find Netflix is my home of encouragement and rediscovering belief in dreaming, in creating. When I take the quick menu to my favorite app on my  precious online tv viewer. I find solace and I find belief in this little town in North Carolina and this week that home is going to be having its last dance and from the moment I realized that this is what tv can do. This is what a voice can do. I now see how a person can love movies so much they want to make movies. They are inspired and truthfully tv was never my thing… more my mothers thing and seeing as tho my mother has been my enemy for many years and to embrace something she loved would be to be more like her than I already was. It has become fitting for this little town, this little town made of experiences and emotion. This town made of images brought to life by paid liars to breathe a new life into me. I had spent 29 years living a lie of convenience of preservation to leave each day unfelt and undynamic. To be no more than a being living without a tribute to my deep emotion that left unattended made me an unpaid liar living in my own little town of experience and emotion devoid of being seen.  Little fictional towns were no foreign understanding for me and before an intricate moment a few months ago I didn’t see it. Those kids on that creek speaking in language of SAT practice test vocabulary flash cards and deep depriving emotional overtures and music made from that same place I had already begun to see myself. In late 1997 Dawsons Creek premiered and I left a game that I was cheering in early just to make it to my granny’s floor to watch and I was never the same.People laughed at me and asked why I liked that show so much and the answer that eventually came was it was the first show that I watched that no one said I should, that my family didn’t like first, that my friends didn’t invite me to. It was the first show that I could call my own. Yet in this last week of my second favorite show’s conclusion , I find that it was the door that had been opened for me to find my way to inspiration. The dreams of artist are always fought with either support or the lack thereof and I fought that fight against myself and have spent years just not believing and while the credit goes to more aspects than the shows I watch. It is no small coincidence that they play a dynamic part in the inspiration that dreams are no more untakeable and no less reality than each day we live. I was a young woman living in a fantasy that was no more reality then these little towns and when I believed that the world didn’t own hope, didn’t own kindness, born of evil inbred into our days into our moments of choice, Paula sang how she didn’t want to wait and Joey told dawson that she loved him and when they left that creek and reality seemed more prevalent as Joey chose Pacey and my world was angry with dissatisfaction. At that moment the world was loud,  it was true we don’t get no satisfaction in the resolution of dreams deferred. A couple years later as the gritty life of homelessness and drugs claimed my innocence, where storms proved stronger than I; a friend told me that her small North Carolina town saved her life in the adversity of growing….of becoming adults and I laughed. There it was the co signer in this life contract, no need to reevaluate my truth and lost of belief for I no longer believe. I  believe no longer in happy endings but as the words stayed put inside of my always verbal and loud presence I knew that our friendship was the hope that I would need one day. What I didn’t know was that her small town would become my own and she would have lived there before. She would guide me again to believing in me once again. Those days of lustful sex, self mutilating unkindness and emotional denial didn’t end that day, the home where I would live with my mother had strangled me,left riddled by undeniable scars of guilt and anger. Those dark days were tainting my belief in miracles and miracles can not be accepted when you are an atheist of those heavenly granted wishes. Beneath  my dirty dish water however was a dirty but beautiful  crystal just waiting to be reintroduced to life a survivor, a fighter a teacher. If anyone said that movie making, tv show viewing, paid liars didn’t and don’t change the world then I am the testimony to the inspiration and the beauty of the hearts and lives that they do touch. It was a moment of true miraculous intervention. God allows us glimpses in this life of his majesty  and that deity so strong and tall that I lost touch with was quite Shakesperian  when in ironic flair and style  appearred to me on the tv with words of a pastor whom I call Creflo. He stated Job had no book it was in his heart, days later if God didn’t appear there like a dream. HE showed my reality a wolf dressed as a man stealing peoples money with a lie to take their money stating he had these very expensive tv’s for a steal. HE was the pastor of a church and ran this scam on that congregation… just kind hearted trying in the way of God with the dream to be sold of a tv, for people who use that tv to people who just needed that tv to soften the blows of life. So when I tell you that dreams are for the taking then hear this story, that man came into the lives of a friend who opened her doors to me when the bottom could not be more than the life I was suppose to still be living and my destiny came to me in feeling so deeply felt it would not allow itself to be denied. It seemed magical and unable to be defined and that’s when my little town in NOrth Carolina became so real that I could feel the heartbeat of those pens hitting blank paper those hearts blending to descend upon people like me who needed to be reminded that dreams are not just fanatical and obliterated thoughts but subconscious triggers to taking the time to define the person who lies within each of us. The Spirit by which we call many names! The heart that binds us as humans with colored skin, without greedy desire, without separations or inclusions of ignorance and my spirit seemed to reek of apple lilies and pink. In those finals days of my storm I began something that my friends and family found strange,  weird and a signifier that I was a cause lost mending the guilt from the wounds of their neglect to find the little girl that once was so sweet. They called me crazy with a free tongue and now I didn’t sing my pain loudly with disruptive words instead I smiled and treated them the love that I felt was left abandoned from my perceived memories. I declared I would wear primarily Pink, black and white and I chose pink to display the inner skin left exposed when we scrape back that pigmented outer layer, it represented the heart,  the core of who we are. Black for the color black is the darkness that can consume our light when the heart is left hidden behind our fears. White for it is the representation in the only purity that distinguishes us the human race from the kind unknown and the kind unseen. I vowed to one day bring forth a creation of that would be named.. Our eternal souls leading tortured lives, AsK why? In those days of standing on my nexus of life, combining my spirituality, my humanity, and reality. I tuned in each week to my little town on that hill. That Tree on a hill is you, that tree was me and my roots were strong, my branches unwavering and those leaves of living were blowing away and a new season had begun, a new reason being born and it all would be a document of my lifetime. I had work to do, tasks to be defined and when I have completed these tasks, these days, these moments that will blow away I will have done for someone else what this show had done for me with many other departments of being each of us “works in progress”. We must start at the beginning of our pain so  I came back to that home I ran from ferociously and faced the villain with fortitude in my living nighttime drama. Alot like the now adult characters of tree him, my villain was known to me, apart of me, my mother.  I told my mother I loved her and I smiled and did my best to show her not in my words but my actions that it was hard to forgive but you must do so. Each time I would watch Lucus, Nathan, Haley, Brooke, Peyton, soon after Clay, Quinn, Skills Mouth MIllie, Alex and Steven and I use his real name as displayed by character CHase because for me Steven from Laguna Beach the beginning of a phenomenon shows me,  that from nothing something can be magical and beautiful. Mark Schawan created my place of emotional freedom. Each show I watched I cried tears left buried inside of me had corrupted my belief and with tears that will always be my liquid prayers. I could not control those tears as they rolled across my pecan dark skin and I realize that nothing in this life just happens to happen. Each day, each moment will reveal the depth of the miracle in each of us…… and this season marked finale of my little town of Tree Hill as well as the final expressions of my revealing as  I have been completely revealed inside out, All emotional rants and belief in miracles and evidence to enter to the Judge that living and inspiring for each of us well arrive in our disbelief. In the moments of confirmation we will find allies that across the boards of twitter and the noise of life might not have been touched had we not just stopped for a moment to be able to receive.
In the last two months I watched the seasons that I had never seen and just at this moment the last episode concluded of the shows on Netflix and I don’t only feel blessed for the creators, writers, production, the network which Ironically I live down the street from, the actors, the experiences and my best friend for telling me to watch, I feel inspired, I feel bold, I feel period. So thank you to those before me who dared to chase the dream, to create what I could not have found alone. I didn’t just watch those tree hill kids that year in 97 at 17 .. No I walked through the door that would leave me here in these moments with these experiences that shaped me and built a warrior of faith.. My friend was right One Tree HIll saves my life daily… When I get sad these days or need to remember why I do my best to show fortitude I watch for the reality in display of living that has proved to be so much more… like Gavin DeGraw says “ I dont this fiction wanna be anything than other than what I have been trying to be lately”…. Powerful isn’t it those words and at the right moment in the right village of love you see the miracle… the truth, the power in your life that you only need surrender to.  I hope this finds the participators on all walks of making this show happen. While I am quite happy with the way things have ended ultimately for even in the face of villainous creation it was shown all the things I believe in and to say it weird that words said by these characters have been my own is nothing less than serendipitous kismet.

In my unfortunate happenings that become moments that clearly illustrate my destiny.
To all those who wish to change the world… join me in being radically brave and courageous and know this.. love is what is all about.. love for yourself, love for your fellow brother, love for your community, your gift and only seek to touch the lives of those who need the embrace… and find our world of misery transform. it only takes one brave soul to believe that we as people are worth the fight.

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