I found it in the midst of a pile of junk or maybe it was a treasure. At the time, everything around it was junk, and it was the treasure. A bland blonde desk. There on the front of the desk the remnants of where a key hole once was, and the rest of it was covered with grooves where some child had indented it with a pencil or two or three(more like a million little scratches). After a morning of stripping it bare, the desk is now Jacobean stained with a bronzed knob from Hobby Lobby covering the abandoned key hole. A vast improvement from its first condition or at least that’s my opinion. It’s my favorite place to sit in my house at the moment. That may or may not be because we are remodeling (meaning the rest of our house is a wreck). Moldings are piled in the hallway. Tables, chairs, and couches are stored in a racing trailer. It’s the only haven I have right now.
So, as I sit here typing this, birds are chirping outside my window. I swear there is one particular bird that calls a guy name Jimmy every morning. The only bird that doesn’t seem to be stirring is the mockingbirds. The bird of my homeland. The place that I still call home after all these years. It’s funny, when I started my other blog I didn’t know what kind of writer I wanted to be(I’m still muddling my way through). I tried to stifle the Southern voice that kept popping up throughout my writings. I found that I sounded generic not authentic when I masked the sound of my voice.
My reason for starting another blog is to be authentic. The first blog I started under a fictitious name. A safe place. This time it’s my name for all the world to see. I’m still trying to figure what I want to do with my writings. One thing is for certain-I want to write.