Dreamy Virginian Mermaid Writer


I’ve been thinking long and hard about landscape and identity. Perhaps these thoughts began on the day I was born in an Eastern sea to a Southern family.Nancy 4

Any mention of the Philippines causes me to imagine an ocean breeze coming into my nursery at Clark Air Base and lulling me to sleep. The same ocean on which my mother’s Virginian forefathers sailed and prevailed in countless wars. The same country where my own soon-to-be Virginian father was born.

3381003859_3ca19dbf84_zThen, there’s the Blue Ridge Mountains. When I’m in Virginia my heart rate drops. I’m ready to rest. My history is in this place. And when I’m here, it’s like my ancestors are hugging me. I want to lay down on a soft old bed at a Bercaw or Rixey farm and dream of the rivers, corn and cattle that came before me.

Then there’s the water side of me.  When I’m in a pool, my heart rate increases. I’m re5436216-swimmers-racing-in-poolady to race. My current self is in this element. Here is where I win. I am awake to the zenith. I have no past and no future. I control time. Actually, my task is to conquer time and I always prevail.

When I write, however, I am everywhere at the same time. The pool and the farm. The East and the South.

With my computer on my chest, in my bed, I’m horizontally connected to sleeping in Virginia and swimming in water. Betwixted this shared recline, pawoman+on+bedrt of my head is lost in what came before, part of my head aims toward what victory might be in store.

I always begin an evening of writing by unplugging my computer. I like to watch the seconds tick away on what I have to say. By racing with words, I go back in time. Back to the place I began.

My angle of re-prose.




One Comment Add yours

  1. Allan says:

    I hear you!

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