Writing a new story…


Photo credit: Jodi Locke

When you don’t like the story being told you tell a new one. Right? Or as Toni Morrison said it “If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it”. Regardless of what we have been told in this country lately, we are all worthy. After all I too was made right here in the U.S.A. Regardless of how or when we arrived, we all deserve to be here.

There are many young people who are being targeted once again in an attempt to hold down bright, beautiful individuals that can and will make a difference in this world if only they can find the strength to continue sifting through the garbage being thrown along their paths. If only they can find comfort within their own skin to proceed forward. Through the fear, through the injustice. Words and imagery have been created to enhance fears and used to keep people silent. Words and imagery can also instill hope and give a voice to ones dreams. There is so much sadness and negativity to break through these days and I encourage you all to break through it. It will break us down unless we break through. Protest hatred with love and don’t feel guilty when you are able to locate and experience joy.

With each new sunrise there is a challenge to be met, faced, and to overcome.

There is also joy to be found, experienced and shared.

“She remembered who she was and the game changed.” ~ Lalah Delia


The start of something new…

Temporarily Untitled excerpt ~ By: Deana J. Tavares © 2020

Born into darkness Griffin was made up of light, and she knew it. At every corner she turned the light snuffers arrived attempting to make her believe that no light existed, but she was persistent. Some days slipped away between tall blades of grass and before she knew it they were whisked away upon dandelion threads. She heard them in all her days, in whichever way the maples would sway. Carrying their dreams locked inside stale dewdrops waiting to fall from hesitant skies. No one ever thought much about her for she was miniscule, pint sized. It’s surprising how they didn’t know that she was everything, every whim, dream, and thought languishing upon that wind. Down hidden corridors of trees and within thickened forests she listened to many symphonies accompanied by natures chorus. She watched burnt umber dance with avocado green as it twirled between pewter and lilac. Every flutter, quiver, and shake upon each branch led her along a familiar and comfortably awakened trance. Her pores opened up to the sunlight holding onto its warmth for as long as possible before the coolness of night peeled it away reluctantly once again. She traveled the worlds in between the barking green. The ones that their weathered eyes had long forgotten. Where buttercups no longer shone their light upon leather chins. 

I’m different Griffin she said in a whisper to the trees that were towering above her listening intently. I am made up of moss, mycelium, and lichen. My arms are branchlike, my feet are rooted, my legs are rocks. My eyes, are sunlight. The stoic maples would sway in the breeze to her chants, an expansive green emerald canopy over her head. Swirling in the breeze Griffin chanted again, and again, and again. I am, different. I am made up of moss, mycelium, and lichen. My arms are branchlike, my feet are rooted, my legs are rocks. My eyes, are sunlight.

The trees seemed to move together as she continued. Limbs suddenly became hands grasping onto one another and dancing within the rhythm of her words. I am, different. I am made up of moss, mycelium, and lichen. My arms are branchlike, my feet are rooted, my legs are rocks. My eyes are sunlight. Birds would begin chirping in the treetops like a symphony. Cardinals, Bluejays, Wrens, Chickadees, House Sparrows, and Robins all serenaded Griffin chirping their chorus into her song as she continued spinning and chanting.

To be continued…

Photo credit: Jodi Locke

Writing a new story for this little girl and shining a light upon new paths for other little girls like her.

To all the makers, painters, writers, poets, musicians, sculptors, dreamers, keep creating. Keep painting new worlds. Keep telling new stories. Keep constructing new ways to see. The world needs what you have to offer even if it comes differently abled, wrapped in a brown garment, or alternative packaging. Your voice is needed! Someone out there is waiting to hear exactly what you need to say. Sending Love and Light far and wide! As we heal ourselves, we heal one another, and in turn heal the world. ~Peace

“Every time you make something you’re throwing rocks in a pond and have no idea of the ripples that are going to come back to you.” ~ Lin Manuel Miranda

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