I've never done it this way.... What if it doesn't work?...
But, what if it does...
How will it change how I do things moving forward... or will it? I know it most definitely will.
Reading James Patterson's memoir, James Patterson... I was pleasantly surprised we write the same way... with excessive periods... run on sentences... Thoughts linking topics... linking subjects that lead you somewhere unexpected.
Man, do I have stories to tell. - James Patterson
He made me see... you can be successful by just being you; by showing up and telling stories of a life well lived. I definitely have the stories; but I'm longing and living for more.
I've been told a writer like me falls short; my grammar... excessive or wrongly used pronunciation... needs to be fine tuned... I'm afraid IF I WROTE A BOOK the editor would edit out my personality...
In my 20's, I read a lot of J. California Cooper books... I loved reading them out loud, acting out each character. The grammar was aligned to character... and she wrote it out just that way.
Don't bury it, use it. Don't keep it in, give it away. Don't turn that love in, turn that love out. There is always some beauty in life. - J. California Cooper
It's funny... after doing some research to share with you more. About her... I can see why I resonated with her work; why it felt familiar... kindred...
"In many of her published works, J. California Cooper stays true to the theme of writing out the lives of different poor to middle-class African-American women who must overcome individual hardships to pursue happiness. Many of her protagonists are in search of love and/or respect from their partners, and while doing so face other obstacles such as abuse, rape, resentment, childhood trauma, racism, and white supremacy. Cooper’s stories are usually told in first-person narration and are told in a gossipy style."
This is a full circle moment... The more I learn... the introspection aligns who I am... to the universal pull to what feels familiar. I've always been drawn to a warrior spirit. I know my people come from a places that called into fighting for not just their home, but to defy cultural assimilation...
It's a weird and complex things to be a half breed, in the 70s that's what we (mixed Filipinos) were called.
If your father claimed you, than you ranked higher on the Filipino ladder and if they didn't you ranked lower than low. But you didn't really belong to either; your position was based on being claimed by your American father.
TikTok & the local Asian market is filled with a lot of American males in their late, late, late years with young, Filipina women. Their beauty fuels and funds her family and I don't discriminate against them doing what must be done. But I recognize, that we are all seen as a commodity...
Everything is a two-sided street; some sides are just better paced.
I knew a guy who only preferred filipino women barely in their 20s, with a work visa or going to school. He wanted someone that needed that card... and he had funds.
I've known of a few people who have two families; their American family and a younger Filipino wife in the Philippines.
I understand the power of financial abundance... and the drastic difference of having a scarcity mindset.
My mom whose Filipino lived a scarcity mindset... and a rule of thumb that women / females had a place... and it was lower than a males. There were terms of respect she would (try to) force me to call them.
When I deep dive... I think about my ancestors... I think about them fighting to keep themselves and their traditions alive... from the Spanish... which claimed Filipino lives and decimated spiritual guides and leaders... known as Babylons... crucified... impaled on bamboo along the rivers to be torn apart by crocodiles in front of their tribes and villagers...
I think about the Philippines... which means King Philip... and how the the Philippines fought the U.S. when Filipino nationalists weren't included in negotiations of their own country and fought for themselves... and losing that war... How Spain sold the Philippines for $20 million dollars to the United States.
I think about where I came from... not where people tell me I came from... not the version trimming the fat away from who I am... but to be all that I am...
I remember sitting on a flat, red (uncomfortable) cushion in a room at a hidden ashram... the guy next to me leaned over and said... just do the best you can... as they handed me a pamphlet with chants in Sanskrit....
I sang loudly out of tune... mispronouncing words left and right... my throat seemed to stiffen and I became horse... as I tried to sound like others around me... then I closed my eyes, tuned out the feelings of doing it right... reopened my eyes... and began again.
Andy walked over to me... and hit me a few times with long peacock feathers while the sounds of sitars played on...
...and I fell into place. I think 2024, will be like this... me falling into place.
Xoxo,
Polly
*written from my iPhone...
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