aside from the mama thing

Boot Straps

Blogging | April 30, 2010

It has been months since I have written. I have put down names of doctors and facilities, financial institutions, scrawled my handle on rubbery checks, jotted out quick notes to concerned teachers and made lists. This is the bare minimum of existence. Trauma, tragedy or standing too close to the sidelines of what could have happened brings knowledge. It is an official manila envelope from the psyche and what the world is trying to teach us in our time here. I have been through a trauma, an ordeal. "I am in the midst of a trauma, leave a message. I'll call you back." Those are the lyrics I hear any time someone asks me to be engaged in some normal life activity. So many songs are the answers in my head now.

I was walking down the street with Mark in Ellenville today. A sad troubled town, a sad troubled day. There was an open lot. It was grassed up where there was once only gravel. At the back of the lot there was a building and it was falling down, gray peeling paint, a dissolving structure framed by the urgent pop of springs new green leaves and the cheerful polka dotting of dandelions being so beautiful and tall not knowing they are weeds, not knowing there is a whole expensive science dedicated to eradicating them from the fine lawns of america, not knowing they are the victims of agricultural genocide. There they all were in a crowd, brilliant garish yellow hats in broad day light like like a house full of reno prostitutes come out to soak up some sun.

It was beautiful. It was painful. All at once. I am at a loss for words. I could go on and on but true words fail me. Words that say where I am going or what has happened. In the thick of this change I have yet to hit any place where a summation is possible. I can name what has happened, I can call out emotions but I have no handle on this story that is my life right now. All of my responses feel like platitudes at this point.

My eyes are wide open. My heart is wide open though it aches badly and my reactor core is being kept cool by breathing, by finding my roots in the earth and by searching out what belongs to me, what is mine to change. I crave grinding rock and roll. Gratitude for all I have


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About saidee brown

Been making some changes. The bits that will remain. I have three young children. One is not yet in school. Time is limited and sacred.
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Categories of Published Work

In The Parking Lot Where We Decide About Life

By SAIDEE BROWN
Published: February 7, 2010

We make decisions to remain in our lives. I am the greatest escape artist in the world. If I wrote down all the routes I make in my mind it could be a handbook for the trapped and disenchanted.

And There Isn't Even A Full Moon

By SAIDEE BROWN
Published: February 8, 2010

I have seen crazy and it does not take care of family.