The Sin-Eater #11: Radical Mercy

By Susan on March 25, 2011 | Category: The Sin Eater: My Life With Fibromyalgia | Tags: fibromyalgia, fibromyalgia nutrition, sin eater | No Comments

Radical Mercy is a term I first learned from a friend and former employer of mine who runs a large arts organization I used to work for. The term was used partly as a show of solidarity and realization that mistakes exist and that we all make them, and it was also used as a means of removing from the job people who weren’t able to fit in with the crew for whatever reason (theft, excessive drunkenness on the job, or wrongheaded acts toward other employees and volunteers, for instance). Radical Mercy has reminded me again and again over the years just how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go. It’s driven much of the wisdom I’ve learned — including changes in perspective — and it’s enabled me to become more patient with those I love and work with. Radical Mercy is an anxiety drug with few side-effects.

I’ve been away for a while as I worked through my medical issues, and I’m thrilled to say that my fibromyalgia — which has plagued my life for the past 2 years — is starting to wane. I’ve changed my diet, lost 30 pounds over the past year and 1/2, have hired a masseuse and nutritionist recommended by friends, and have slowly managed to get my life back in the face of some pretty incredible odds that, at times, seemed like they would knock me out of the game of life completely. I still have some work to do as I find my way out of the woods, but I’m able to work full time without wishing I were sleeping, sitting motionless in front of the TV (something I never did without another simultaneous activity until the fibro hit) or that I were simply nonexistent. I questioned how long I’d be able to take it long enough to realize I had to do my best to find a solution, and even though I was ferociously determined to hang on to my life at any cost, there were times when exhaustion took over and made me question everything. In the end, I decided to do whatever it took to make money to hire the kind of caregivers I really needed, and I also made the decision to become completely and utterly honest about my condition with those who are closest to me. I temporarily released the stiff-upper lip I’d always showed the world in an effort to be tough enough to be good enough, and I let others help me for a change.

Over the past few weeks I’ve remembered what it’s like to have to be patient with myself, to forgive myself for nearly working myself to death for so many years and (undoubtedly) sometimes being unkind to myself, and also to realize that without the work ethic that developed from the abuse I suffered when I was young that I might not have ever been able to solve the real world problems I’ve seen. There’s something to be said for pulling myself up by the bootstraps so many times, and though I hope to become more comfortable in life, I am grateful to what the difficulties of my life have brought me in terms of the successes I’m experiencing now.

Complexity — the wilds of the gray areas of life — can drive our desire to learn, to teach, to make better lives for ourselves and those around us, to stop making the same mistakes again and again and to forgive ourselves when we finally realize that we’ve sold ourselves short. It can help us to get over so much in life — really, to get on with our lives — and it’s yet another reason why life on Earth can, at times, truly be divine.

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The Sin-Eater # 10: Moving On…

By Susan on February 6, 2011 | Category: The Sin Eater: My Life With Fibromyalgia,Touching An American Sky | Tags: fibromyalgia, sin eater | No Comments

Last week I had quite a bad day — or rather, I had more than one — but since I’ve begun (in earnest, rather than in lip-service) the new, fancy nutrition program recommended by a client of mine, I’ve had some progress in both the mood and stamina, though the pain has continued marching on. The pain isn’t even the most of my problems; I find it possible to negotiate it as long as I have enough energy throughout the day to feel like (and actually) accomplish something every day that’s both worthwhile and can earn me the kind of money I need to earn to satisfy both my financial needs and my health needs simultaneously.

Granted that nothing is perfect, and sometimes my body can be annoyingly inconsistent, I am happy to report that over the last several days I’ve had more good days than bad as I trade my old diet (which had once again become pretty pedestrian due to how physically depressed I felt) for such treats as Himalania goji berries, TerrAmazon “nibs” with cocoa + Brazil Nuts + ground coffee in the mix, Kaia brand pumpkin seeds, Bio-K+ Probiotics, Fage Greek and Wallaby brand yogurts, Odwalla protein shakes (which, despite the sugar, are now a part of my diet that’s making me feel better), and finally, Tulsi Chai and Windor-brand coca tea (which, for me, has been a great replacement for most caffeinated beverages). I’ve also started with more organic meats and veggies, and today, rather than gobbling down a mountain of fries with my chicken nuggets, I asked the cook behind the counter to give me steamed vegetables instead.

I’m allowed one day a week to “slack” a bit on the diet, and that’s how I went about choosing the fried nuggets and steamed vegetables for my Sunday afternoon meal; I also had what I imagine will be the last of any high-fructose corn syrup drinks for a while, as they make my teeth feel sort of fonky, but I may spring for a Freddo if I have to spend many more hours working today. (I don’t like working on Sundays, but it’s the most prudent thing for my current work and medical schedule for the next few months.) According to my nutritionist, this kind of dieting (6 days on and one day off) is to keep me — wisely — from going absolutely crazy from abstinence, a factor that can make people blow their nutrition plans. as I’m in it for the long haul, I’m willing to treat one day a week as a “drunk all night” type day, one day a week that offers me the stamina to continue my path of self-control for the other 6 days. The last time I went on a diet, I counted calories by using my iPhone’s “LoseIt!” app and lost 30 lbs, which I’ve been able to keep off consistently. It lasted for about a year and 1/2 before I met my nutritionist, a woman who reversed many of her own fibromyalgia symptoms after a period of years.

My nutritionist is one of those rare people who saw/felt her bout with fibro coming and managed to beat it back with the stick of life; over the years I managed to do the same thing when fibro-like symptoms reared their hydra-like heads, but this latest bout with it nearly crushed me (it resulted from a back injury that kept me from exercising or doing much of anything useful for a while except work), and turning to pain, sleep, and wakefulness medication and therapies has been the only way I’ve been able to wrestle with this disorder effectively.

This time around, it has been here to stay, and the fact that I’m also dealing with some severe nerve pain in my right hip (it’s been here on and off for 2 decades) has made the problem ever more annoying, as my doctors have refused to look at my hip or tell me what might be wrong with it; the only treatment I ever had was a harrowing cortisol shot that made both the hip pain and my mood about 1,000 times worse; for a while, I couldn’t walk more than a block and 1/2 without severe pain, something that NEVER happened before I was shot full of cortical steroids by what looked to me to be a methed-up jackass in a lab coat (I think they fired that guy, but I’m not entirely sure). I’m not sure if it’s an insurance thing or what, but I’ve had to seek alternative therapies in order to heal whatever the mystery pain is. They usually work (as does the Dilaudid I’m now taking, hah hah).

The good news about Dilaudid is that it 1) works faster 2) contains no acetaminophen 3) is very tiny 4) works in totality for much longer periods of time, resulting in my taking far less medication overall and 5) doesn’t make me feel loopy, warm, or weird the way the vicodin did. Because of this last observation (#5) I’ve also been able to cut back on medication for wakefulness and tiredness; it’s as if my brain and body have a new lease on life that is slowly spreading to the rest of my work and play habits; I’m grateful for its existence, and it’s been a tremendous help where other doctors and drugs failed miserably. It gives me hope that my life will one day get completely back on track, pain and neuro bullshit be damned.

Cheers to all of you, and may you all find your own versions of healing for this terrible affliction. Blessed Be and take care.

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Black History Month # 6: Supercentenarians

By Susan on February 6, 2011 | Category: Black History Month,Touching An American Sky | Tags: beatrice farve, Black History Month, black supercentenarians, daisey bailey, maggie renfro, mississippi winn, supercentenarians | No Comments

Mississippi Winn, Daisey Bailey, and Maggie Renfro all have a few significant things in common: they are all Afro-American, they are all from the American south, and they all lived past the age of 100 years old, a feat not accomplished by many people.

Mississippi Winn, who passed away at age 113, is notable for many reasons, one being that she is the last surviving child of former slaves in the US. Winn, who worked as a housekeeper all of her life, made her own meals until the age of 103 and could walk up until the age of 113; at 103 she moved to a Shreveport, LA nursing home. She is recorded to have avoided a number of foodstuffs throughout her life, including dairy; she took vitamins, an aspirin per day, and loved vegetables and fruits far more than meats and candies.

According to Robert Young from the Guinness Book of World Records, Winn told him that, though she was 113, she always felt as though she were young, and that she felt as if she could possibly live forever. She did not marry, though she did have one child; she was also a terrific aunt to many cousins, nieces and nephews.

In Shreveport, LA, the birthdate of Winn, March 31st, was declared “Mississippi Winn Day” by Mayor Cedric B. Glover. Mississippi Winn passed away on January 14th, 2011.

Maggie Renfro, who died on January 22nd, 2010 at the age of 114, was the predecessor to Miss Winn; after Renfro’s passing, Winn became the oldest living African American woman. Renfro, who also lived in Louisiana, was married and was the mother to one child. She spent much of her life working as a cook for road crews. She chose to abstain from alcohol, cigarettes, and told friends, family and interviewers that she rarely, if ever, felt ill in her life; she felt incredibly healthy well past her 107th birthday.

Maggie Renfro’s two sisters, Carrie Lee Thornton Miller and Rosie Lee Thornton Warren, also lived past age 100; Carrie passed on at the age of 107, and Rosie at age 103.

When Maggie Renfro passed away, Daisey Bailey, who almost lived to the age of 114 (she was 113 and 342 days old at the time of her passing) was named the oldest person in the US. She died on March 7th, 2010. Daisey, another southerner, was born in Tennessee on March 30th, 1896. She spent much of her adult life in a variety of difficult jobs. She worked as a housekeeper, a handy-woman, and a woodcutter, and had four children.

Other African-American women born in the southern part of the country who lived past 100 (this is not a complete list; see Wikipedia or your favorite search engine for more): Beatrice Farve (113), Getrude Baines (115) — also notable because she loved bacon and eggs (the opposite of many of the other women featured here), Annie Leverett (112), Gertrude Weaver (112), Marnie Reardon (112), Ruth Bruce (112), Hagar Young (112), Maggie James (111), and Louisiana Hines (111). Please see the Wikipedia article titles listed below for more information.

SOURCES:

wikipedia.org (Mississippi Winn, Daisey Bailey, Maggie Renfro, List of Supercentenarians from the US)

http://www.inflexwetrust.com/2011/01/15/mississippi-winn-oldest-african-american-dies-at-age-113/

http://www.ktbs.com/news/26507431/detail.html

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Black History Month # 5: Jane Elizabeth Manning James

By Susan on February 5, 2011 | Category: Black History Month,Touching An American Sky | Tags: black female mormons, Black History Month, jane elizabeth manning james | No Comments

The story of Jane Elizabeth Manning James is one of longing, spiritual hunger, and two incredible journeys across North America. One went from Connecticut, Jane’s birthplace, to Nauvoo, Illinois, and the other took her from Illinois to the wilds of the western deserts, where she gave birth to the first African American Mormon child to be born in The Utah Territory.

Born a free person in Wilton, Connecticut in 1822 to Isaac and Phyllis Manning, Jane Elizabeth Manning James grew up in a Presbyterian family but left her childhood church with members of her family in 1842 to become a Mormon and to join the Church of the Latter Day Saints.

In 1843, Jane and her family members moved to Nauvoo, Il to join Mormon leader Joseph Smith, Jr., and the growing Latter Day Saints movement, which had established itself in Nauvoo in the previous decade. While traveling to Illinois with other Mormons on a boat to Buffalo, NY from CT, Jane and other black Mormons were separated from the rest of the party, as they were not believed to have been free, a sad fact of their lives outside of the east coast that became more difficult with seemingly every move westward; after arriving in Buffalo, the black Mormons walked the rest of the way — some 800 miles — to reach Nauvoo. Still, the party persevered, arriving in Illinois safely, and Jane was asked to share her stories with Joseph Smith, Jr. himself. The members of Jane’s party soon found work in the community, and Jane remained in the Smith home, where she lived in comfort with the family.

After the murders of Joseph Smith, Jr. and his brother Hyrum in a Carthage, IL jail, the Mormon community left Nauvoo and set out for Nebraska, and from there the party headed to the Utah Territory under the direction of Brigham Young, walking over 1000 miles. Jane, her husband, and their two children made the journey together, and when they settled in UT, their family blossomed, blessing them with six more children. Eventually, Isaac became disillusioned with the Church, and he left his wife and family in 1869; Jane was faithful to the Church and wanted to remain within its bounds. She was devoted, and kept her covenants with her faith until her death in 1908, even when she was doubted, denied equal rights, or emotionally injured by those around her.

When her husband left the family and the Church, Jane asked to be sealed to Walker Lewis, a black Mormon Priesthood holder in Cambridge, MA (she wanted to be sealed as family, but not to marry Lewis as a plural wife), but her requests to be sealed to him were repeatedly denied. A few years later, Walker Lewis left Cambridge for Utah when William Ivers Appleby, a Mormon elder, chastised Brigham Young for allowing blacks the some of the same privileges as whites in the Church; he was reportedly upset that Walker Lewis’ son Enoch had married a white woman. In 1848, Young announced that black men of African heritage would no longer be able to hold the Priesthood; blacks were later denied the right to enter the Temple or take part themselves in certain rites; Jane was eventually sealed (by proxy) to Joseph Smith, Jr. as a servant, a move that must have stung her privately though she put on a bold, brave face despite the trials that she had faced in life both before and after her conversion.

One of the most remarkable things about Jane — this is according to the old records and to those in the Church today — was her unflappable demeanor. She did not complain; she survived. She did not falter; she lived. She did not leave her Church; she made history instead. A story like Jane’s is likely difficult to understand for a modern audience; I know I found it difficult to write about her life at first, and I even thought about choosing another historical black figure for today’s entry after learning more about he life. However, my discomfort with her story led me to believe that this was, in part, the very reason why Jane’s story needs to be remembered and told. Life doesn’t shy away from such moments, grim as they may appear, and neither should the records of history.

SOURCES:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walker_Lewis

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_Elizabeth_Manning_James

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_people_and_the_Latter_Day_Saint_movement

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Black History Month # 4: Rosa Parks (Redux)

By Susan on February 4, 2011 | Category: Black History Month,Touching An American Sky | Tags: Black History Month, Rosa Parks, rosa parks quotes | No Comments

Though I have written about Rosa Parks before (I try to choose different people every year for every blog series I do) I thought it was appropriate to quote this bold, vivacious woman whose seemingly ordinary action — to be able to sit down on an empty seat on a public bus after getting off work — echoed the sentiments of millions of Americans and continued to reverberate well into her life.

As it is the anniversary of her birth, I especially thought it appropriate to quote her, and I have included here a couple of my favorite Rosa Parks statements:

“Whatever my individual desires were to be free, I was not alone. There were many others who felt the same way.”

“It was not pre-arranged. It just happened that the driver made and demand and I just didn’t feel like obeying his demand . . . I was quite tired after spending a full day working.”

“I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear.”

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Black History Month # 3: Constance Baker Motley

By Susan on February 3, 2011 | Category: Black History Month,Touching An American Sky | Tags: Black History Month, constance baker motley, first female naacp judge | No Comments

“I grew up in a house where nobody had to tell me to go to school every day and do my homework.”

Lawyer. Judge. Civil Rights Advocate. Senator.

These are just some of the titles that Constance Baker Motley (b. 1921, d. 2005) earned throughout her rich, varied life. Born into a large Caribbean family who emigrated from Nevis Island, Constance grew up in Connecticut keenly aware of the racism, sexism, and classism faced by millions of Americans on a daily basis. It was while experiencing the effects of racism and sexism as a teenager that Constance became interested in becoming a lawyer; enraged and disappointed by the injustices that she both lived and learned about, she became a champion of humanity, believing that all people deserved dignity, representation, and chance at a real life free of the kind of constraints that killed dreams, broke families apart, and trampled the spirit.

“When I was 15, I decided I wanted to be a lawyer. No one thought this was a good idea.”

Well…no one, that is…except a couple of friends and a helpful patron with a family history of philanthropy. With the help of white businessman Charles W. Blakeslee, who was from a wealthy Connecticut family and whose donations supported the Dixwell Community House, a local black social center that Constance was a part of, she started her college career at Tennessee’s Fisk University when he insisted upon paying her tuition after learning that she could not afford to go on her own; at that point, she had been working as a house cleaner. Constance enrolled at Fisk in Tennessee and remained until deciding that she wanted to attend an integrated school; she transferred to New York University and graduated in 1943. She went on to receive a law degree from Columbia 3 years later.

From a young age, Constance was keenly aware of the racism, sexism, and class struggles faced by millions of Americans, and after graduating from law school, she went to work for the NAACP’s Legal Defense & Education Fund, where she first began making a name for herself, first as a clerk and later as an attorney on such cases as Brown vs. Education, for which she wrote the original complaint. She was the first female attorney of the NAACP, and she eventually became a lead trial attorney; later in life, she became the first African-American woman to argue a case (Meredith vs Fair) before the Supreme Court.

“Sexism, like racism, goes with us into the next century. I see class warfare as overshadowing both.”

Constance participated in many landmark was elected to the New York Senate in 1964, and in 1966, she was appointed as a Federal Judge by President Lyndon Johnson, and she remained in this position until her death.

CITATIONS:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constance_Baker_Motley

http://biography.jrank.org/pages/2924/Motley-Constance-Baker.html

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Black History Month #2: Vivian Hunter-Hindrew, M.Ed.

By Susan on February 2, 2011 | Category: Black History Month,Touching An American Sky | Tags: Black History Month, Mama Zogbé, vivian hunter-hindrew | No Comments

Vivian Hunter-Hindrew, M.Ed. is a priestess of the Mami Wata tradition; Mama Zogbé is her spiritual name. An enlightening and controversial author and thinker, Hunter-Hindrew works to unmask patriarchal re-castings of formerly powerful women into subordinate roles due to the changing of political and social tides of the ascending Abrahamic religious traditions. Her work includes research into the lives and roles of African priestesses in pre-Abrahamic times, and she considers it her duty to challenge patriarchal assumptions about women over the course of the past 3,500 years of history.

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Black History Month #1: Maya Angelou Quote

By Susan on February 1, 2011 | Category: Touching An American Sky | Tags: bird quote, black feminist, Black History Month, maya angelou | No Comments

This is one of my favorite Maya Angelou quotes of all time:

“A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.”

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The Sin-Eater # 9: Pollyanna Calls Ralph on the Big White Phone

By Susan on February 1, 2011 | Category: The Sin Eater: My Life With Fibromyalgia,Touching An American Sky | Tags: fibromyalgia, fibromyalgia suicidal, fuckits, sin eater | No Comments

Type in the word “fibromyalgia” and add the word “hopelessness”, “suicidal”, “frustration”, “relationships in the crapper”, “work in the shitter”, “I want my fucking life back” or “my case of the fuckits just won’t let up” and you’ll find a ton of entries.

Sure, I’ve done a lot to manage the condition so that I can still get off my ass, get to work, keep a life I fought hard to have only to see 1/2 of it shoot down the proverbial drain of life at an alarming speed while I fight the current to avoid having to resort to the final flush of barely sustainable disability payments before I either call it quits for good or find the magic bullet that either cures the illness or ends the kind of despair I find myself in during an increasing number of days. Believe me when I say I do everything I can — and I do mean EVERYTHING I CAN — to ignore the pain and pretend like an 8-to-10 hour workday, marriage and social life can be had in a healthy manner. Aside from paying off the remaining student loan payments I have, my medical bills (including nutritionist) are extremely high and the other things I have to do to manage the condition are costly inside and out. No one can really help me — I’m mostly on my own financially except from the odd work-advance — and sometimes it can be extremely draining.

I was entirely hopeful (when I was first diagnosed) that eventually I could beat the pain, sleeplessness and inability to stay awake back either completely or at least to where I could live normally; these days I have to pace myself in order to make sure everything gets done, and even that is often managed under some duress from stimulants, pain medication and just plain old determination, which I learned though 2 decades of near non-stop hard work to make seemingly impossible dreams come true. I still think all of the hard work I did to make myself into who I am now was worth it; I have something to show for my years on this planet that not many people in my situation have. However, the current bump in the road is truly a bunch of bullshit, and sometimes — try as I might — I just can’t ignore the fact that it pisses me off and that’s that. Years of hardship as a child built me with a really sturdy character that saw me through all kinds of terrible trauma, heartbreak and misery, but as an adult who followed the mantra of “follow your dreams” to success only to have it all fall apart right before my eyes as I was on the verge of making a break with the poverty (financial, spiritual and otherwise) of the past isn’t acceptable at all. I know I have to find a way to get my life back, but there are definitely times when I wonder if it’s even possible.

I’ve known a number of people who have killed themselves, and while it completely broke my heart every single time, and I’m not personally keen on the idea because I’ve survived so much bullshit just to get to this point, I can’t say that I’ve never ever ever thought about it, as I’d be more full of shit than a port-a-potty at Burning Man early Saturday morning of the event. I have a spouse who’s trying to hang on with me, a biological family who — while they aren’t financially or emotionally helpful — would still be heartbroken if I checked out early, and a family of friends who have offered tremendous emotional support and gratifying work until I was taken out of the game by the progression of an illness not even the medical community has a full grasp of. [Thankfully, I wasn't stupid enough to pop out kids before I got my own life settled; I'd really be up Crap Creek without a paddle if I'd listened to my hormones and my grandparents instead of my big, fat brain.] With all this in mind, something within me won’t let me ignore the downside as often as I’d like. I’m just plain exhausted by life at times, and I’m not entirely sure how to turn it all around again. I’d like to think that the sum of my life is more than just earning money for the sake of paying out money just so I can make it home and collapse; it’s just not worth it if that’s all there is, at least not to me, and aside from the debilitating nature of the fibro, there’s no reason for me to be such a recluse these days. It’s basically eaten up my life, and I have to fight or stay knocked out until the moment passes so I don’t make it worse.

It’s not that all good has been removed from my life; just this past year a screenplay I wrote won an Honorable Mention prize, and a film I associate produced won First Place at a film festival in So Cal. I managed both of these things while helping my spouse run his business, which is unrelated to mine but is helpful to him and puts me in touch with some great contacts in addition to making the difference in my salary as an artist. So, I’ve stayed working (for the most part, though a bit more carefully) but when it came time to shop my own work around and find an agent, or to even enjoy the perks that came with doing something right or well by traveling to events and networking, I’d be exhausted from all of the other shit I’d had to do to prepare for such things and would be put out of the game at just the wrong time. Maybe others of you — anyone who’s ever worked to make dreams come true with or without odds, and especially those who worked their asses off in college at the same time as or before they even managed to get to school or on that first big dream project — get where I’m coming from with my frustration. It’s not enough just to kick ass, take names and then turn it all around and do it 100 more times; now you’ve got a big, screaming, stupid and stupifying illness that wants to cry on your fucking shoulder, too. Aren’t you the lucky one?

For a long time, I’ve been the cheerleader to many people around me, but it just isn’t going to happen today, at least not in a way that doesn’t make me look like I’m totally, utterly full of shit. Today, wysiwyg. Sometimes Pollyanna gets to cuss a blue streak and puke in the bushes like everyone else.

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During the next few weeks at Eighty Feet Tall

By Susan on January 19, 2011 | Category: Touching An American Sky | Tags: African American women, Black History Month, black women, Courtney Love, Erin McKeown, feminist book reviews, Hole, Kurt Cobain suicide, Pink Floyd, Roger Waters, Rosa Parks, suicide, The Wall, The Wall 2010 | No Comments

This week was mostly a time for learning how to use WordPress, but in the meantime (over the past few months), I wrote and stashed several reviews of books I read, music and shows I saw and heard, and covered the topic of my life with fibromyalgia in anticipation of this site being developed. I will be posting the articles I didn’t get around to publishing during the change-over throughout the course of the next few weeks. These include (among others):

1. Roger Waters: The Wall 2010, which I saw in Las Vegas on November 25th of 2010. I was raised on Pink Floyd — and on The Wall in particular — and this blog post is an excerpt from a chapter of my forthcoming memoir, The Demons Who Came to Dinner.

2. Hole at BFD 2010; this will include a short series of articles on Courtney Love’s artistic evolution over the past 20 years. Because we share a common ground — namely having been extremely close to someone who committed suicide and traveling through a Dante-esque landscape of our own to get our lives and careers back on track — I think it is worthwhile to discuss the anguish survivors go through (which sometimes lasts for years) after a loved one chooses to end their life. Please note that I do not pass judgment on suicides; I have experienced a lot of personal anger and transformation due to the loss of loved ones who chose to end their path on this plane, but I also know how difficult it is for someone to arrive at this decision in life, much less carry it through, and I respect the fact that the reasons are sometimes complex to the point of being beyond comprehension for those left behind.

3. Erin McKeown at Cafe DuNord; Erin is a favorite indie musician of mine, and included in this article are also recommendations for other wonderful indie artists, many whom I discovered through eMusic and random YouTube ramblings.

4. In other news, I’ll be starting my annual Black Women’s History Month in February; I started covering a woman a day during February a couple of years ago after reading a book of “African American heroes” in which (despite the fact that a lot of women were involved in various capacities) the only woman covered in the whole book was Rosa Parks!

5. Women’s History Month is in March, and I will be discussing a woman a day — women of all colors, creeds, and types of accomplishment — during that time. This is my 3rd year to do so.

6. At some point this year, a “Cool Dudes Month” will take place again (I did this last year to great success); this is a response to a few female friends of mine who refused to see on their own — whether due to personal loss (including rape, incest, war, murder, crap wages for employment, etc), observation, or just plain prejudice — that there are men in this world who are capable of making great positive contributions in society.

7. I read a ton of books for review last year as I was sorting out my health issues. I published a few of them sporadically, and will be publishing a lot more in 2011.

One last note: if you read further back into this blog, you might notice some of the dates are off; during the import, some of the dates weren’t imported correctly, and I have to go back and fix them. For correct dates (until I get the chance to fix them here), you’re welcome to visit my old site at http://www.angelfire.com/film/quietgirlproductions/

Thank you for reading!

- S

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The Sin-Eater #11: Radical Mercy

The Sin-Eater # 10: Moving On…

Black History Month # 6: Supercentenarians

Black History Month # 5: Jane Elizabeth Manning James

Black History Month # 4: Rosa Parks (Redux)

Black History Month # 3: Constance Baker Motley

Black History Month #2: Vivian Hunter-Hindrew, M.Ed.

Black History Month #1: Maya Angelou Quote

The Sin-Eater # 9: Pollyanna Calls Ralph on the Big White Phone

During the next few weeks at Eighty Feet Tall

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