Archive | February 2017

The Bee Talks With… Tina Frisco

Words of wisdom from Tina Frisco.

The Bee Writes...

tina-4aToday I am honoured to have Tina Frisco answering my pesky questions for writers :-). With no further ado over to Tina:

  1. How would you describe yourself in one paragraph?

I’m a heart-centered person. Some might see me as a bleeding heart, but I’m actually an empath. It took me many years to accept this and many more years to learn how to manage it. I’m still learning. Writing and music are my passion, and they inform my daily life. I walk in nature every day and have a spiritual practice that sustains me. I’m an optimist by nature and tend to seek the positive in everything – especially in challenges, as I see them as opportunities to grow. I’ll face them head on, because I’ve learned that what we choose not to look at is what controls our lives. I work hard at keeping my heart open to all…

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Wise Guy

Now firmly holding the position of my new favorite author. (Don’t say I’m just a cat….I’m a cat who writes, which means I can also read. Right? Right!)

Andrew Joyce

wise-guyHe was dead when I got there. Dead as a doornail, deader than a dead fish, deader than Kelsey’s nuts, dead as … well, I think you’ve figured out the message I’m trying to convey here. The son-of-a-bitch was fuckin’ dead!

The door of the hotel room had been ajar, so I entered without knocking. Someone had bashed his brains in. No, that’s not accurate. Someone had bashed his brains out! They were oozing from the wound and congealing on the floor where he lay. His name is not important but, for the record, I’ll tell you. When he was breathing, he was known as Vinnie “Five Fingers” Diamonte. Now that he was no longer breathing, you can call him anything you want, which would have been a dangerous thing to do when he was among us—the living. He wasn’t called “Five Fingers” for nothing. (I’ll leave it to your…

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When I Am Not Enough… Guest Post by Tina Frisco…

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

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Image courtesy of Lucie Stastkova

Throughout our lives, we hear ourselves say:  ‘I’m not that good!’  ‘I’ll never make it.’  ‘I wish I could write that well.’  ‘If only I had said. . .’

Words are powerful. Energy follows thought. The words we speak to ourselves drive our subconscious minds. Diminishing thoughts tell the subconscious we are not enough.

The subconscious mind is self-serving. Its mission is to fulfill our every desire, and it sets in motion the means by which to do so. It takes our words at face value and strives to manifest what they represent. It assumes that what we think and say is what we hope and dream.

How often have we heard ourselves utter, ‘Did I say that’? Unless we’re channeling spirit, the mouth speaks what the subconscious mind thinks. If thought rests in the conscious mind, we are aware of it and can choose whether or not to give it a…

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This entry was posted on February 18, 2017. 2 Comments

Picasso, My Grandmother, and Me

A thoughtful and inspirational post from one of the chosen few…those with that special gift of teaching children. Thanks, Jennie, for a lovely post, for sharing your Nan (who seems to have been an amazing woman!), and for sharing your knowledge with all your children!

A Teacher's Reflections

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My grandmother, Nan, has been my hero since I was a little girl.  I spent Sunday afternoons with her, and it was delightful.  No, it was more than that.  Nan filled me with stories, taffy pulls, and dressing-up.  She drove me and my sister in to Kresge’s, the five-and-dime, to spend a whole nickle on anything we wanted.  Sundays with Nan were the best.

Nan lived in an apartment.  When you entered, the first thing hanging on the wall was a Picasso, “Girl Before a Mirror”.  I remember thinking how funny the painting looked and having many conversations with Nan. While this became familiar to me in her apartment, so did other art.  Gilbert Gaul’s “Leaving Home” was my favorite, opening my eyes to art that tells a story with the scene and characters.  This painting was was about history and the Civil War.  I’ve been a history buff ever…

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This entry was posted on February 18, 2017. 2 Comments

Boxcars

Andrew Joyce

Time for another one of my hitching adventures. This one is different. Someone I met along the way planted a seed, but it took twenty years to sprout. When it did, it sent me on a quest to discover the meaning of life. It took me another twenty-two years of visiting libraries, of perusing the shelves of bookstores. Twenty-two years of searching out, and finding, obscure books and writings from centuries past. Although a few pieces of the puzzle still elude me, I am content with the knowledge I have gained. I owe it all to a man by the name of Oracle.

train

“There is a chink, a nigger, and a cracker in that car; git ‘em out. Oh yeah, there’s also a kid in there.”

I was that kid. With those few words, one of the strangest and most profound adventures of my young life was about to take…

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This entry was posted on February 17, 2017. 2 Comments

A Love Story – by Zoe the Cat…

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

A Love Story by Zoe

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It’s February 14th, my friends! And you know what that means. Before I tell you my love story, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zoe the Fabulous Feline, and I live with a human named Emily. I write stories; my human likes to paint. I say art has its place, but reading is the higher virtue.

So, I want to tell you a love story. But, first, let us define “love,” shall we? There is the love between humans, be it romantic, familial, or platonic; love between animals; love by humans for animals, and certainly vice versa. One can love food: Fancy Feast, sliced, in gravy—my favorite—and chocolate, my human’s favorite. (She insists chocolate is indeed a food.)

We can also love things, although that is the kind of love humans need to learn to do without. And as we all…

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This entry was posted on February 15, 2017. 2 Comments

Orlando, Please Understand.

the ramblings

In the days and months following my father’s 2014 murder I heard one phrase uttered time and time again: Please understand. The killer’s probation officer who failed to stamp a piece of paper  in time, a police force who let an active arrest warrant sit meaningless on a desk, a District Attorney who didn’t want to waste the money on a trial and a life sentence if he could get a quick plea deal, the Department of Corrections who relocated the killer to a low security facility right by my house, the friends and relatives nearby and far away who were uncomfortable being around us death-kissed daughters and so kept a safe, comfortable distance: “Please, understand.” They told us newly shattered to understand that justice is a business, and though faulty they followed protocol, and prison placement has to take into account the criminal’s rights and program needs, and…

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