Survival

After my students pressured me in to reading (and one actually bringing me the book) The Hunger Games, I've been contemplating survival. Not like the kind in the book where you kill someone with a bow and arrow or by stinging them with tracker jackers. The kind of survival I've been thinking about is more of an emotional survival; how to deal.

In my favorite role, Jimmy Stewart said, "Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, "In this world Elwood, you must be"- she always called me Elwood- "In this world Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant." Well for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me."

I think that in this life you must be at least two things: faithful and resilient. Maybe it's because of the things that have gone in my life during the last few months but my perception has changed. How I view people, how I view and make my art, how I handle the unexpected. Almost every day is unknowing and instead of fighting it and being worried, I've fallen into what may happen. It's a beautiful way to be and it's the only way to "survive" in this world.

Regarding people, I've trying to make myself more personable. I've always wanted to be more like my mother who never meets a stranger and has a genuine, kind heart. I fear I'm more like my father though. That being said, I am and have been making efforts to speak to people, to know their lives, more than I usually would. You know that feeling you get when you're pumping gas or waiting in line at the grocery store and a stranger makes small talk that isn't forced? I aspire to be that random person.

Regarding art, I've really tried to stop comparing myself to other people and to stop beating myself up. This is hard to do. When I take all the pressure from the modern world (criticism, getting in to an m.f.a program, expectations from others) out of it, it simply boils down to using what God's blessed me with and doing it because I love it. The fact that he gave me something to love that uses my own two hands makes me feel very carpenter-like and nearer to how a human was intended to be. I'm by no means the best, it's a work in progress. But taking a shower at night and watching dirt and grit flow into the drain is proof that I was productive, I had something to show for the day. How many people can say that?

I judge most musicians according to their lyrics. There's nothing better than a line that resonates with you. There's a Nic Cowan song I've been obsessed with called "Reno". In it he says, "What is it that drives you to create? I said I never had the choice to make. It chose me long before I made it here, it's what I feel."

Exhiliration, Teaching, and a Trip to the Motherland

Was a beautiful weekend for porch sitting.

Sculpture inspiration

The cows think it's summer already too

Uncle Dave

If you look closely, that yellow speck is my cousin. He wanted to jump in the pond. Too soon.

A small fire created by a spark from grinding steel.

Saving Lander.

Firetrucks arrive, students evacuate the building.

My favorite, if you look closely, students jumping rope, double dutch.

I can't remember the last time I've been this busy. I started my teaching job at PTC and I really love it so far. I have a great group of students, very outgoing and bright. LU time is going by way too fast. I don't feel like I have enough time in the day and I'm literally up from sunrise until midnight most nights. I have no idea what this summer will bring but I'm looking forward to Tablerock, tomato sandwiches, beach trips, sandals, and bike rides with the beloved.

Adventures with Pacmen and Peg Legs...and a wet rag

The weekend brought adventures. After a girl's night on Friday, Sayrah, Ember, and I roadtripped to Grits and Groceries for Saturday breakfast...which turned in to lunch.

The wait inside was 25 minutes and we were ready to eat our lips off so we settled for a picnic table. We sat beside some very trucker looking men. One of them had leopard print spots tattooed on his arm. They shared out salt and pepper and said the shrimp and grits were good.

A very fine portrait of Ember.

Sayrah loved it so much she could barely keep her eyes open.

Uh oh, here's where we ran in to trouble. As it turns out, and as we should have known judging by the appearance, they only take cash or check. I never have cash because I never have money so I was going to be the dependent for the day. Thank God that Sayrah is the only adult with a big girl job who keeps cash in her purse.

But did that save us? Not really. We knew we wouldn't have enough so we talked to someone in charge. The owner apparently never turns people away and said we could drive to the atm at the next town when we were done. We sighed and decided that money was no longer and issue so we should live like rich girls. Sayrah and Ember even went all out and got tea.

As we made our way to pay,deciding who was the best sweetalker, we put our rounded up stack of fives, a couple ones, and lots of change on the table. We were about $14 short. No big deal, right? We'll just drive in to town (man, I haven't said that since I moved from Saluda) and get money. The guy at the register, some saint of a man, said, "Don't even worry about doin' that. Just send us a check. I know you'll do it. Here's our card."

The honor system. Wow. Out in the middle of nowhere, in a barn full of strangers, someone put their trust in us.

The overstuffed rooster mascot out by the road.

The tomato pie was incredible. And guess what was on the side? Chow chow. :)

The pig and rabbit best friends that were napping together beside our table.

Sarah and a Pacman on her shoulder.

S

The motley crew. I laughed until I cried and couldn't breathe and my stomach cramped with these 2. Sayrah's got some good stories. And Emily is girl after my own silly heart.

The restaurant. And Ember enjoying her tea, and exfoliating with a lemon.

The check is in the mail. With a very thankful note.

This is what I get for skimming

The Grammy's were on a couple of weeks ago. The two biggest highlights weren't featured on television but still deserve recognition:

My beloved Susan Tedeschi along with the rest of the Tedeschi Trucks Band won for best blues album with "Revelator" (exceptional album, exceptional concert experience).

Tony Bennett and the late Amy Winehouse won for best pop duo for their song "Body and Soul". Although her posthumous album will be a staple in my collection, the what-could-have-been music and the old Amy will be missed.

(Isn't Tony handsome? He's even more wonderful in real life.)

If you watched the Grammy's then you probably saw, apart from the ridiculousness of Nicki Minaj, Alicia Keys and Bonnie Raitt singing together. Not that I don't love Alicia, but Bonnie never needs help. She's recently covered Gerry Rafferty's, "Right down the line" and it is just heavenly. Her bluesy tones and soulful voice seem to get better with age.

So what is one reminded to do upon seeing one of their favorite artists on tv? Looks up tour dates. I tried to see her last year but it was right before her father died so she ended up cancelling. But how overjoyed was I when I saw that not only would Bonnie be coming to Charlotte but that Mavis Staples would be joining her.

I was first introduced to this wonderful lady, along with the rest of the Staple Singers, when I bought Martin Scorsese's,"The Last Waltz" documenting The Band. When she sang The Weight, I got chills. I purchased Mavis's latest album, produced by Jeff Tweedy, some time last year. You should get it, she makes religious music cool.
I marked June 12th down in the calendar and went about ordering tickets. Well, I tried to.

Due to my reading skills of a careless college student, I had skimmed the tour dates and didn't read completely that it is actually in CharlotteSVILLE, VA.

Bummer. Maybe the third time's the charm.

Annual Spring Break Lunch 'n Treats

Ben, "You know, I never have anything to say on Facebook. Some people get so in to it."

"I've been writing a blog instead."

Ben, "Oh God, I don't need to read it. I get enough in real life."

Musts and Wants

2.22.12 Agnes Elizabeth Beggs Irby & Papa. The sentimental post.

Last night at around 8, my Granny Irby passed. She was 98 and, ironically, had a total of 98 children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren. I'm sure her reunion was very joyous and long awaited for a woman who was so good, so kind, and so in love with the Lord. Here she is with my great grandfather, Pete, whom I never knew. They had 11 kids. They named one after a movie star, Alice Faye (who is and is married to a Holiness preacher and loves to remind you that she is named after a celebrity). Also, the one I've always known as "Uncle Pete" is actually not named Pete or Peter; His name is James Carey. I don't know the exact order and I can't remember all of the names, but my Meme' and her living sisters and brothers visited Granny at least once a week for the past few years. They had a beautiful sunroom where they hung out and rolled her in there.

It reminds me of how the last few weeks with my Papa were. The whole family hung out at the hospice house and just loved each other, enjoyed each other's company, and laughed and cried. A few times we laughed too loud and recieved several nasty glares. But it wasn't out of disrepect, it was out of the joy and humor of memories and of stories of my Papa. I think he would have loved it. Had he been able, he would have been the one telling the most stories in a most theatrical way. There are a few things that stick out in my mind about the last moments with my Papa:

1) The last moment I had alone with Papa he was breathing very hard and was pretty unresponsive. However, he knew I was there and managed to smile because of me. Mama said, "Ali, did you see that? He smiled. You could always make him smile." We always had a very special bond, I think more so than the rest of my cousins because I was at their house every day and every night during most of my high school years. I never doubted that he loved me, he was proud of me, and that in his eyes, I was something precious.
2) When we knew the end was near, everyone circled around his bed and held hands. It was a tight fit and some of us were sitting on top of others. We each went around the circle and said something to him. But I couldn't. I was afraid, I was shy, I wanted it to be just me and him, but mostly, I didn't want to let go. My cousin Tif said, "Thank you for being the father to those of us that didn't have a good one." That's how I felt and I needed him to stay with me because of how much I loved him in that way.
3) My Papa had been in a wheelchair for about 9 or 11 years. He was an extremely active man before that and it killed him to be in that chair. However, it was a blessing because otherwise I might not have ever known him. He always worked and the only time I remember him when I was small was when he would come in late for dinner and I'd still be at the table (I've always been a slow eater) while everyone else had moved in to the sitting room. He and I would eat (he put chowchow on everything he ate), we would talk, I would laugh and look at the dirt under his nails. Which today I constantly find under my own nails and it sort of makes me happy.
The night after he died I had this dream. I was in Meme and Papa's bedroom. It was cluttered and I knew he was there but couldn't find him. He was in the corner beside the dresser they kept (which was full of McDonald's toys that Papa hoarded because "they'll be worth something one day!") but I wasn't sure if it was him. I kept yelling for him and finally, he stood up. He stood up, he smiled at me as if to say, "I'm fine, I'm happy", and I cried. I think I awoke crying. And it was the most beautiful dream because I knew it was more than a dream. It was another one of those Holy moments where it's all connected and everything is good and as it should be in the world.
I don't mean to take away from my Granny's death by talking about my Papa. But it's all one. It is family, it is your past and your present, it is a part of who we all are. And I think the best way to honor those who we have loved and lost is to let them know how well we are doing and to carry on their stories. And to be thankful that we got to use them, to love them for just a little while.

I'm pretty sure Uncle Robbie is responsible for this.

Aunt J, the roomate, Granny, Mama, and their childhood friend Tina.

And lastly, a picture of the Papa Mawmaw of the famed Hippy Hippy Go Massey Show: