From time to time people inquire about the drawing of the Jackal that serves as the mascot for The Romer Review. The ancient Egyptians were the scholars and innovators of their day and in a class by themselves. I'm a student and an enthusiast of Kemet and the benefis of Sankofa. Anubis, the Egyptian god of the underworld and chief preservationist of knowledge and literature lore, served as an ample and revered diety in providing them with wisdom and wit. It is this mantra that I wanted to have emulated as I embarked on a journey to likewise educate the masses, broker information, and supply those that want to be taught. The Jackal serves this purpose and purport to allow books and all things literary to legitimize his presence.
Cyberspace is this vast and nebulous nexus that has vigorously changed how we do business and interact with anything having to do with research, and just finding things! The world wide web uses computers to be the vehicle in navigating, and as I was doing just that, lo and behold someone comes around with a camera with candid intent and snaps a picture using the proverbial "cheese" utterance. Never wanting to be caught taking one where 'just as you are' render you as is and unprepared, I grinned and bore it. So now, there you have it, a picture of yours truly to finally personalize this blog with some vestige of a likeness for reference.
ACR
A woman's wrath borne with fury and unrelenting force was experienced in paradise. Vulnerable and caught unaware, we're now able to pull our drawers up and render a feeble smile. Her name was Katrina, and she came rushing in town with her eye bent on destruction without a care in the world. She found me in a melancholy mood, blue and bleary awaiting the angst and anticipated havoc that helps to embellish others like her with the same mindset. Who set her to flowing before she got to us? Oh, Katrina, I knew your type. You were just another upstart female eager and willing to prove that you had status and belonged. I had no choice as I watched, waited, and wondered just how you would manage to add your name to the lore that is par for this region this time of the year. The wind and rain notwithstanding, I shook my head in disgust with the aftermath of your evident destructive path before my eyes. You turned roads to rivers and gave new meaning to up a creek without a paddle. Uprooted trees, flooded streets and homes, power lines crackling with live electricity for shock value, and chaos running amok -- that was you at your best, or worst depending to whom I talked to.I saw lines of anger creased ever so deeply in the faces of people who are still shaking fists of anger at you. Yes, we're soaked, stunned and so sick of you Katrina. You've snuffed the life out of 7 people here in South Florida, left thousands homeless and without power, and we wonder as we wander -- is it justice or just us? Yes, you found me despondent and dejected, but not for long, and certainly without my pen...for I wrote you out of my mind and communed with my neighbors to rebuild. I didn't throw caution to the wind, but chalked it up to the fickle finger of fate. Oh, Katrina...don't gloat as you should know that we are resilient and relentless to get paradise back. We curse you and are caustic to your uncaring ways, but we are learned and DO remember your cousin Andrew. Good riddance, you bearer of ill-wind and reigns of terror. I defy you and no worse for the wear, because Hurricanes like you always manage to die anyway!
Today was a good one! Summer in the tropical bliss that is Miami gives new meaning to warmth, and an ideal setting to be just write. What good is it to go through life without sharing your views and writings with someone who is congenial, compatible and cognizant of what you stand for. I have an author friend who colors my world and give me insight and views of her panaromic passion for writing. We share long distance calls and e-mail, but retain affinity for close introspective musings. I heard from her as she too, is basking in her version of idyllic paradise...she of the longing to be legitimately taken seriously, and to write without reprimand and without censure. Isn't this the very voice of most writers? There are many times when I want to trash deadlines, fire my editors, defy industry status quo, and just write to be right in my own idiosyncratic way. Then I think of my friend, so talented and taunting in her brazen way with words.....Thank you Darlene, for you are truly a blessing and Godsent!
From time to time people inquire about the drawing of the Jackal that serves as the mascot for The Romer Review. The ancient Egyptians were the scholars and innovators of their day and in a class by themselves. I'm a student and an enthusiast of Kemet and the benefis of Sankofa. Anubis, the Egyptian god of the underworld and chief preservationist of knowledge and literature lore, served as an ample and revered diety in providing them with wisdom and wit. It is this mantra that I wanted to have emulated as I embarked on a journey to likewise educate the masses, broker information, and supply those that want to be taught. The Jackal serves this purpose and purport to allow books and all things literary to legitimize his presence.
