Thread of my life

The greatness of the escape into a book or a movie. When I was a kid there was a book van that came into the neighborhood, like an icecream truck. My parents always allowed me to buy a treat aboard. It was so exciting. I had memorized my Dr. Seuss books before I could even read and I would put on a show for guests. Pretending that I could read got me a lot of congratulatory attention.

When I got older and actually could read, it became a wonderful way to escape my life and to learn about times and places I could never go. Charlotte’s Web, Pippi Longstocking, Nancy Drew, and Later Judy Blume. Then as a teen ager I started reading the Bible. What a terror. Children should be kept away from Leviticus and Revelation. Some readings are inappropriate for  young people. We don’t know what our life will be; But we will be making something. With only Five dollars and a paperclip We can sing and clap and We shall not be moved. We will not be discredited, to experience deniers of truth, To have special researchers who define your report as a need for commemoration, Shouldn’t we all care. It is not an issue of one country or belief, but an issue of ALL people. Is clean water an issue of privilege? Reading and writing are super privileges like clean water.

In my later teens I became attracted to Flannery O’Conner, William Faulkner, Sam Beckett, and later Kafka, Pinter, and later even James Joyce. I could keep on listing great writers that are worth a careful read. I really dig southern authors Carson McCuller, Harper Lee, Tennessee Williams, there is something about depressing stories that I have always been attracted to, starting with Sylvia Plath and Edna St. Vincent Millay. Poetry is my thing.  So the thread of my life is like a sad sad story that I read over and over again and oddly it makes me happy. Reading and writing gives me resilience it has been the only way that I could find a way to survive. Reading and writing are the thread of my life. Keeping the beauty of love and not being confused by war. I continue to sing my song in the darkest of times.

 

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About m.a. wood

writer, thinker, musician, teacher
This entry was posted in memoir, poem. Bookmark the permalink.

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