singing streams.

the leaves are really just beginning to offer splashes of color. i wait patiently as seasons change slower than the rate i am accustomed to, appreciating glimpses of newly golden leaves along my daily routes. i wandered into carlyle wolfe's exhibit at southside gallery downtown recently. as i strolled amidst her thoughtful botanical drawings, i was reminded of the need to take a breath. to notice the miraculous details in the season we are in.

a singing stream along a walk with a dear friend

yes, the need to take a breath. 

life has been whirlwindy. bustling with activity, people, assignments... exciting decisions have been made by students and faculty at the university, advocating for the removal of the mississippi state flag from campus until it becomes a more inclusive symbol. 

i've also been exposed to some particularly amazing souls recently, a few of whom i'd like to share about... 

phila rawlings hach is from tennessee. she hosted a tv cooking show, operated an inn, cooked an epic meal for the united nations. she received the southern foodways alliance keeper of the flame award. here is a short film about her life, which i highly recommend. in it she reflects: 

"i have never, never, never asked for anything. but i've been at the right place at the right time. but what is time? its a multitude of moments, which is all we have, is the moment. i have let my moments empower my life... its not about me, its about those that have touched my life. who am i? i'm just a woman, a bold woman of conviction." 

here is another short film about a wise woman of gumption: joann clevenger. owner of upper line restaurant in new orleans, joann just received the southern foodways alliance lifetime achievement award. in the film she says: 

"i want to make people happy because i want to change the world. and i think a lot of people are idealistic about changing the world. but the reality is that we can only change that tiny little environment that is immediately around us. and we can do it... we only have a limited time in this world, its not a dress rehearsal and i want to be able to look at my life and say, 'what did i do of value for others?'"

also at the sfa symposium last weekend, i had the opportunity to hear kiese laymon speak. originally from jackson, mississippi, he is the john grisham writer in residence at the university this year. he has written essays and a novel,  long division, which we will be reading later this semester. he published a recent article in espn magazine about living in oxford. during his talk, kiese paid homage to his grandmother and southern hip-hop, noting the paradoxical stank and freshness of black southern life. with passion and eloquence, he honestly addresses race, region, and culture. i'm looking forward to ruminating on more of his words. 

one more speaker to note. i had the pleasure of attending a performance of e. patrick johnson a few days ago. he complied a set of oral histories of black gay men in the south entitled sweet tea (another book i'll read soon for class). this talk, however, showcased an upcoming book, honey pot, about black southern women who love women. his presentation was amazing. moving. inspiring. a testament to the power of story collecting. he is a person of incredible intelligence, compassion, and lyricism. read sweet tea. keep your eyes peeled for honey pot. 

and one more bit of inspiration. i was reminded of this wendell berry poem from kentucky chef edward lee: 

"it may be that when we no longer know what to do 

we have come to our real work, 

and that when we no longer know which way to go 

we have come to our real journey. 

the mind that is not baffled is not employed. 

the impeded stream is the one that sings." 

here's to autumn leaves. moments. gumption. honesty. stories. and singing streams. 

all join hands, circle to the south...

i seem to have inherited parts of both of my grandmothers. one loved to dance. the other loved to share food. it is the places where those two things coalesce that i feel rooted and alive. this past weekend, i snuck away to dare to be square, a dance weekend, that was held outside of nashville. oh, it was a delight to be around old time music and dance. i've missed that community in recent days. and we ate well too. many things coming from the farm where the dances were held, or just down the road - turnip greens, sweet potatoes, squash soup, autumn goodness...

it felt healing to take a breath. to reconnect heart and spirit and body. i've been doing a lot of thinking in school. a weekend of dancing let me use my brain in different ways. honestly, much of it felt like a dream. 

dare to be square offers workshops specifically for square dance callers. although i'm not yet a caller - perhaps aspiring - i went to workshops where methodology was discussed. beyond just enjoying dancing, there were opportunities to analyze how callers orchestrate fluid dancing with clear, well-timed directions. and this reminded me of being in school. at the moment, my reading isn't for mere pleasure, but with a constant analytical attitude - observing and critiquing how scholars frame their arguments and approach their subject matter. sometimes its an exhausting practice. but its valuable. and it forces me to be deeply present with whatever is before me. kind of like a square dance caller has to do. 

i picked this book up along the way (which i am mighty excited to read): hoedowns, reels, and frolics: roots and branches of southern appalachian dance by the wonderful square dance caller, phil jamison. i can recommend it wholeheartedly. 

as i return to the rhythms of routine, i am grateful for moments of dancing. for the reminder that dancing is a part of me. and i'll find it wherever i go.