The Thrill Is Gone

I have no idea how old I was when I first heard the sad singing guitar. I know I was very young.  A few years later, I saw the man who played the sad singing guitar on television. He would sing a little and then play a little and his face made all kinds of ugly distortions, and I asked myself if all that was necessary to sing and play a song.

Often, I used to hide in my mother and daddy’s bedroom and listen to WTHB or WAUG radio stations.  At that time, you heard his music mostly on what they called in the Deep South, The Negro Music Platform.

As I got older, I began to combine the melancholy tones he strummed on his guitar and his voice as one instrument. I saw his closed eyes and the distortions of his face when he sang as a sign of him having entered his world.  The beat was in his soul; the tone came from his gut, and his fingers played what he saw there.

I never met him personally, but he affected my life in a big way. Through him, I learned that music didn’t flow through you cause you were intelligent, but because you chose to find your world where you could sing your heart out, to march to your own beat, and yes, feel the pain, the disappointment, and the joy of your life experiences.

My heart is sad today. It is singing the blues, honoring a man who came from the heart of the South, a man who became an inspiration for  me and many musicians all over the world.

At age 89, The Thrill Is Gone.  He has crossed over, but his legacy will live on.

Rest In Peace

Blues Boy King  

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

Sporting the A to Z Blog Wear

Well, I’m a pretty happy cookie, today. April was the month of the A to Z Blog Challenge, and I was a participant.  We had to post a blog article a day, except on Sundays.

My theme was a continuation from one of the books, I’m writing.  Being an ExPat American, living in a country, where English is not the native language, I depend on the comments and ideas from my networking writers’ communities to let me know how my manuscript is coming across to them.

Therefore, the A to Z Blog Challenge is the format that I chose three years ago to get feedback on The Child and The Prophet, and I have not been disappointed.

This was my third challenge, and I found that the hosts and co-hosts did an outstanding job this year.  Maybe, it is because I became more involved. I really tried to support our team.

In the end, I, not only finished the Challenge but I achieved my goals.

So, here I am showing off my A TO Z BLOG TEE SHIRT.  I am a Survivor and like a kid, I’ve rediscovered Christmas in May. It came today, and I couldn’t resist putting it on and going out to eat lunch.  I was sporting, Yeah!!!  Of course, no one here in Germany understands what it means, but that didn’t matter.  Still, I got lots of looks and heard people murmuring, “That’s a cool tee shirt.” 

So thank you once again, Alex, Arlee, Stephen and all you wonderful co-hosts at  A to Z.  You have done an outstanding job, and to all of you bloggers out there who participated, let me say, it was my pleasure to blog with you this year, and I look forward to blogging in the challenge with you in 2016.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia 

Its, A Mother's Day Poem

Durable, flexible, intelligent,

Best workhorses ever created.

Eyes pained.

Backs flogged.

These its,

These puny its have no value.

Mouths starved.

Necks choked.

Shoulders bruised.

Torsos kicked.

These its,

These puny its have no voices.

Legs spread wide.

Ears boxed.

Faces slapped.

Hair unkempt.

These its,

These puny its have no value.

Who are these its?

Forgotten and unacknowledged,

Running, pleading, fearing for their lives.

These its,

These puny its have no voices.

The brunt of war carried in the flesh of women.

While men pat themselves on the back for heroism.

These its,

These puny its have no value.

Oh, women of the world,

I know today is Mother’s Day,  

But your its are being attacked.

Bellies impregnated by rape,

Faces scarred by encrusted, scabrous hands,

Disfigured bodies with lost limbs,

These its,

These puny its have no voices.

Slaughtered,

Murdered,

Gassed,

Shot down,

Their psyches damaged.

These its,

These puny its have no value.

Hands grabbed,

Bound and cast to the ground,

Legs spread wide and raped,

Whore,

Bitch,

Slut,

Cunt,

Their Psyches branded.

These its,

These puny its have no voices.

Oh, women of the world,

Today is Mother’s Day,

But these its are our sisters,

Shouldn’t our voices become theirs?

This poem is dedicated to every woman trapped by war at this moment wherever they are,  in whatever country.

Happy Mother's Day.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

My First Article As An IWSG Member

Today, I signed up for the IWSG, INSECURE WRITER’S GROUP, and this is my first article.

I’m still coming down from an emotional high as a participant in the A to Z   Blog Challenge. Slowly, I am bringing it all together.

For me, it is important that I don’t lose my writing momentum.  So, my schedule after the A to Z was three days of reading, laughter, and music, and on Monday, I started scheduling what I want to see happen in my writing.

Scheduling what I write gives me a picture of where I’m going.  Thus, I knew before the challenge that I wanted to do a one on one with a senior editor that is forthright and honest.  I had it arranged before the Challenge began so that I could ensure myself that my momentum would not dwindle down to zero.

Am I shaking in my boots about the upcoming revision and rewriting work on my book? Yes and no.  Revising and editing a book deals with the structure and how the story is told.  For a good story to come across well on the pages of a book, the chemistry between the editor and the writer should be harmonious. So as I step out, I wonder which way the wind will blow.

Will I look back and say I’m glad I took the step is a question that I cannot answer yet.  However, I do know, if I don’t take this step, I’ll never know the effects it will have upon my writing ability.

So, as the Child in my story The Child and The Prophet, I’m moving out on an untrodden path, leaving my footprints behind me.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

Reflection: Pressing Toward The Mark

As I began the A to Z Blog Challenge, I had three goals.

1.     To reach out by reading five new blogs a day and leave comments.

2.     To become a part of the team, not as a leader, but a blog supporter and thereby support the efforts of the leaders who gave so much of themselves before the challenge started. 

3.     To continue with my allegorical story, The Child and The Prophet, which began in 2013 and is a work in progress.

On Friday morning, May 1^st, I had a big smile on my face. I had reached my goals; I was still pressing toward the mark.

I met writers with fiction and non-fictional works, and photographers with the talent to capture the nuances of scenes that make people think.  All these blogs strengthened my endurance and perseverance muscles, and each blog challenged me to keep pressing toward the mark.

Stretching my writing ability, I:

 Used new writing techniques and wrote my first soliloquy,

Learned the discipline to edit an article by throwing out what I liked and keeping what was needed,  

Disciplined myself to stay under 300 words, constantly refining, by using new vocabulary, exploring the use of grammar and punctuation to develop my style, as I pressed toward the mark.

Stress is unavoidable.  Reprioritizing is mandatory.  I learned to minimize stress by reprioritizing, a necessary tool when pressing toward the mark.

So I leave the challenge with a good taste in my mouth. I wish each of you bloggers, writers, and photographers the very best.  We have done well.

Now, keep pressing toward the mark.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia