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Daughters of the Soil–My New Novel
Daughters of the Soil
- Cover is ready(?), but getting there took its sweet time.
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- ISBN is assigned!
- LCCN is assigned!!
- Front and back matters are ready!
- What’s the hold? Editing/revising!!!
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Prior to 2013: Toying with the cover: At the time, the title was A Very Smooth Murder.
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2013 Cover Progression for Daughters of the Soil: Notice all the nuances: font type, font size, color changes, background color, dropping the plural letter, putting back the plural letter, piling images on images, peeling off images, superimposing images. Phew!
Heather McCorkle is patient!! I give her all the respect in the world for her professionalism. Once I saw this image, I knew the woman was Emelda dead on! She had to stay. There were times when I wanted to find another Emelda because I did not receive internal validation for what my intuition was saying to me.
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Fast forward to 2014. Repeat the process:
2014 Cover Progression: I tried Fiverr.
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Still fastforwarding into 2014. Repeat the process:
2014 Cover Progression
Notice all the nuances: font type, font size, color changes, background color, dropping the plural letter, putting back the plural letter, piling images on images, peeling off images, superimposing images. Phew!
Betty Gunn is patient!! I meet all these wonderfully patient illustrators. I am lucky! I give betty kudos. She worked on the cover for weeks, never tiring. I give Betty a lot of respect for her professionalism.
Please post a comment below regarding the cover or the name. Feel free to ask me questions regarding my journey so far. I looking forward to bonding with you. Thank you for stopping by today. Take care.
Under the Cover of Cowardice
Mrs. B. Carter
The recent incident of a fan degrading Beyoncé by slapping her buttocks has brought this unsavory topic into the open again. According to Yahoo.com, Mrs. Carter was performing in Copenhagen, Denmark, when a man slapped her derriere.The
New Zealand Herald reported that the famed singer chastised the reprobate with “I will have you escorted out right now, all right?” My situation was similar but different in a frustrating way.
My daughter and I used to go to Disney World every December (to avoid the spring break and summer exodus to Florida). Unwilling to deal with the hassle of securing a hotel room, I bought a time-share property. On one of those trips, we had just exchanged pleasantries with Mickey and Minnie Mouse. I turned to walk away. The pervert hiding under the Mickey Mouse cowardice slapped my buttocks.
Like Beyoncé, my initial reaction was disbelief that someone had the audacity to touch my body. Turning around instinctively and ready to deal the lascivious idiot a consequence, my trauma worsened when the Mickey Mouse debaucher began prancing with glee and laughing loudly. Myriad emotions chased themselves on my face.
Parents and children watched. I felt helpless to give in to my instinct of doling him what he deserved. My daughter watched petrified that I would deck Mickey Mouse, that (she told me later) she would be known as the child whose mother beat up Mickey Mouse.
The anger that blazed in my eyes and my taut body that bucked threateningly at the leech seemed to increase his depraved joy. My inability to take any course of action elevated my anger. I sold the time share. That was the last time I took my daughter to Disney World.
Regardless of the word used to describe this criminal act, (“Eve teasing” in India), touching someone without invitation is offensive and invasive, what I call body trespassing. Like all trespassing crimes, the offended has the right to take suitable actions to protect body and self-worth.
According to the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, “It is unlawful to harass a person because of (that person’s) gender through unwelcome sexual advances… and other verbal or physical harassment of a sexual nature…”
Perverts steal innocence and damage joy fast. No one can understand the gamut of emotions running through a person’s mind when another human violates the sanctity of his or her body.
The last of those emotions is regret. I should have sued Disney World for employing a miscreant, a deviant who not only violated my person but who violated children’s innocence and their belief in the sanctity of the (perceived) marriage institution of Mr. Mickey and Mrs. Minnie Mouse.
I should have sued Disney World. Beyoncé could sue the harasser, but he might be a penniless buffoon. Also, the legal demand on her time would steal the joy of spending valuable time with Jay-Z and Blue Ivy. Why bother with a riff-raff?
Does Lack of Education Kill?
That seems to be one of the findings of a recent study published on Monday, March 4, 2013, by two University of Wisconsin researchers, David Kindig and Erika Cheng.
It used to be common knowledge that women outlived men by several years, but that gap seems to be narrowing. Mike Stobbe of the Associated Press states that the average life span for a baby girl born today is 81, and for a baby boy, it’s 76. The gap has been narrowing. Data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention shows women’s longevity is not growing at the same pace as men’s.
This phenomenon of some women losing ground appears to have begun in the late 1980s, though studies have begun to spotlight it only in the last few years,” Stobbe explains.
Kindig and Cheng poured over federal death data and other information to discover that among the 3,141 U.S. counties over a 10-year span, mortality rates for women age 75 and younger is on the rise. These deaths were considered “premature deaths” because many of them are considered preventable.
What’s largely to blame? Lack of education! As a veteran social studies teacher, I deciphered statistical data for many countries as recorded in the CIA World Factbook. I, Frances Ohanenye, arrived at this conclusion: Countries with low literacy rates have high adult and infant mortality rates. The studies by Kindig, Murray, and others confirm what I have surmised all these years.
A similar study undertaken by Dr. Christopher Murray of the University of Washington two years ago found that women in the South who did not finish high school were dying at a high rate.
According to Stobbe, other studies with a similar focus found that life expectancy seems to be growing for more educated and affluent women. Some experts also have identified smoking or obesity among women as factors dragging down life expectancy.
“The study is the latest to spot this pattern, especially among disadvantaged white women. Some leading theories blame higher smoking rate, obesity, and less education,” Stobbe explains.
Lack of education has been linked to increase in the HIV epidemic in the South and researchers continue to document positive relationship between high level of education and health. Other studies are throwing in the effects of recent recession and astronomical unemployment rates in the mix to determine the impact of these economic components on education and age on mortality.
Confession of a Watch Lover
With the arrival of the New Year, everyone has a heightened awareness of time. People are making all sorts of resolutions with deadlines on how and when to accomplish those goals. I have all kinds of opinions about time because of my ambiguous relationship with it now. But more than those ambivalent connections, I still respect and admire time. Evidence of that admiration is my ownership of several watches.
I used to own many watches, 14 at one time, to coordinate and complement my outfits, but I must confess that, that relationship has gone awry. I have allowed my emotion for time pieces to fall by the way side. Time was when I used to race to the nearest store to buy batteries for my watches lest they failed to keep accurate time.
I confess that I have allowed time to steal away the importance of time from me. (Every fun intended here.) Time is ubiquitous now. Every appliance is equipped with the measurement for the passing of intervals. Every technological invention comes with an LCD heralding the stages of life slipping away without notice.
Frances’ watches
I confess that my watches now sit expired. The hour, minute, and second hands are as still and as noiseless as a dead mouse. Granted, I still wear them, but they have lost their functionality. They just sit on my arm, an adornment for fashion only.
This laptop that is pounding away is equipped with time. My cell phone has an alarm and a clock built into it, my clock-radio has clock, the television has a clock on the lower right hand corner and across the chart that shows programs featured or forthcoming, the microwave, stove, big clock in the hallway, the car, printer, DVD player, and numerous other pieces have stolen the functionality of the watch as the keeper of time for those on the go.
I guess one could look at it as division of labor, but I look at the watch as a fashion accessory and no longer as a time keeper since I hardly consult it to keep me informed of my obligations since the one on my wrist is woefully silent. I do not know that I would use the word love anymore when I refer to watches. Once upon a time, I really had a huge admiration for watches because of their multi-purpose in making us feel important.
I admired a well-dressed man who twisted his arm with drama just to make the world behold the expensive specimen on his wrist. I still admire him for raising my temperature and for being fashionable, but the watch, alas, does not raise my eyebrow or temperature as it did once, not even the expensive Rolex, not anymore. My watches now serve as a second bangle or bracelet on my left wrist. Like Muhammad Ali said in a famous commercial, “My face is so pretty, I deserve two” (watches). I certainly deserve two bracelets: one of them a watch and the other a bracelet.
Final Meditation Journal Entry
As school ends and my academic obligations with it, I am so relaxed that I feel compelled to finish what I started: the journal of my meditations with Dr. Deepak Chopra. Here are the last entries in that journal.
Finding Peace
Entry 17: Today’s meditation starts out with tears, the left eye cascading down my face while the right eye comes down in droplets. I imagine an artist capturing these weird descents of tears as a theme for his or her art collection. Peace is so priceless. When you find it, you’ve found your bliss. Therefore, as they say, “Follow your bliss;” nothing else matters. Lack seems foreign because peace supersedes. I will move through today lighthearted and carefree knowing all is well. Today is a glorious day. I wake up grateful for all the promises it holds for me and for all. I move through today with grace in its gifts in smiles, kind words, hugs, lights that shine within, breaking bread this Thanksgiving day and sharing Earth’s abundant blessings. Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen!
Entry 18: I celebrate my unity with all life and nonlife knowing we are all one. The tears cascaded today and ran down my face into my sweater to be absorbed in unity as one. We are all one, indeed! If we would realize that and avoid the divisiveness that is making a mess of the human race, we truly would have the peaceful world we desire so much. We are all one. We need to be aware of that and take actions to restore peace in ourselves, in our families, in our communities, our counties, our provinces, our states, our nations, our continents, and in the world. What a beautiful life we would all have. We all live in ONE WORLD. The sad thing is that whatever we are fighting for and dying for and quarreling about will still be here when we all go to meet our maker. The earth will remain. Only humanity will pass away. The earth was here before we came. We need to love our neighbors—near and far—as we love ourselves. Then we shall have true peace. We all live in ONE WORLD. Namaste.
Entry 19: Dr. Chopra delivers such beauty in spoken words. Bliss is found in them. I am elevated to be and do better. I am centered in love and in life. Today, tears of love flowed in abundant drops without restriction. I will live from a state of love. Everything good is drawn to me. I will say, “I love you,” more often, one of the most emotional expressions in any language. Also, I have always lived love, but from now on I live love more profoundly. I know that at the core of my being, I have always been in tune with my heightened level of pure awareness, creativity, spirit, and love. I am in tune with my spirit, the one who feels, and the one who is love. Like the late Whitney Houston sang, learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all. Deepak Chopra says (and I have known this) the greatest gift you can give to anyone is love. I have never had the problem of loving myself. I am learning to love more people. Life is love and love is life, said an Indian sage to his followers. Love keeps the body together. Knowledge is the love of truth, adds Deepak Chopra. I love love; I love loving, and I love being loved because they all bring me closer to my inner self, the center of my quiet, the core of me, and the essence of my happiness and the happiness of those I love. Namaste.
Entry 20: I have known these little truths, but it helps to have them affirmed by Dr. Deepak Chopra today. I surround myself with luxury as often as I can because I am worthy of such luxuries. I like dressing up to have tea with friends. I make having tea in my house into a grand event with elaborate china; I like taking bubble baths, gardening, and plucking roses from my gardens, meditating, taking time to go within, getting in touch with my inner quiet, and connecting with my higher self. I have done these things routinely for internal peace, to heal within where no one sees the hurt, and to save my sanity. I deserve all the treasures the world has to offer, not material things, but the little things in life. When I was managing one of my father’s businesses, I coined a jingle for that supermarket, “Dealer in life’s little pleasures.’ Little things in life can give us so much pleasure, the little things that mean a lot. I don’t know when I realized that these little pleasures of life are the true essence, tiny bubbles of happiness. For that reason and many more, I call today’s tears, “tears of happiness” for my recognition of how valuable I am, a piece of gold, Deepak says, created from the love of the universe. I elevate myself always and value my life because I am a priceless human being. Namaste.
Entry 21: I am so grateful to Dr. Deepak Chopra and to Oprah Winfrey for introducing me and several thousands of people to this 21-Day Meditation Challenge which ends today. As I come to grip with its closure, I am resolved to continue this tradition as part of my self-discovery. I have accepted that abundance is mine to have, that it will flow readily into my life, and I resolve that “every moment of every day, I live my life abundantly.” I will continue to plant the seed of abundant consciousness. I stretch my hand to obtain the seeds from Dr. Chopra. As I plant the seeds, I water them with tears, today’s tears that came in droplet. I plant the seeds of abundant consciousness to grow more happiness, love, prosperity, anything else I co-create with my inner, higher self, anything I want while blissfully aware that abundance will flow effortlessly into my life. I trust that once I have planted these seeds, the sun, the rain from up above, and the rain from my eyes will cause them to grow and thrive into unlimited abundance. Thank you, Oprah. Thank you, Deepak. Namaste.
Entry 22: I logged into Dr. Chopak’s meditation website to recycle previous meditations. Imagine my surprise when I found a fresh recording titled, “Day 22.” The challenge concluded yesterday. It is so generous of Dr. Chopra to give generously of his time and talent. One who preaches abundance exemplifies abundance by giving an extra day; this is so, so fitting. Thank you for this surprising gift. Because you, Dr. Chopra, have elevated my awareness consciousness, I will do my part to heal the world in any little way i can. We are connected, all of us in this world, in this life. My tears today are dedicated to healing the world. It is my fervent wish that we find peace in our world and that we find that peaceable kingdom here on earth. Namaste.
Thank you for allowing me to share a profound experience in my life. I have grown within where it counts the most. Knowledge is love, and I have grown profoundly in both. Namaste.
Together We Make a Difference in Writing
Anyone who knows me or who has been through this way (my blog) knows how intensely passionate I feel about writing. To sharpen my heightened interest in it, I participated in the National Writing Project, which has been recognized by the U.S. Department of Education as a recipient of one of its i3 “Validation” awards. According to Elyse Eidman-Aadahl of NWP, “The ‘validation grant’ recognizes the performance of a particular program…The focus is on high need rural districts and work at grades 7-10.” NWP is among 20 organizations the Department identified as having the highest-rated applications (HRA) for FY 2012.
Eidman-Aadahl explains further that the goal of the validation strand in i3 is to produce the data that would recognize (essentially qualify) an entity or an approach for further investment. If NPW does well, it will pass a huge hurdle for future federal investment, and that is a very significant achievement.
This validation is conditional, that NWP raises its own funds to match that awarded by the USDOE. As USDOE puts it, “Potential i3 grantees under the U.S. Department of Education’s i3 program are responsible for obtaining private-sector matching funds or in-kind donations.“
Someone made a very crucial point. “It is absurd to imagine that any child will be able to earn a living, let alone contribute to resolving our world’s complex problems, without knowing how to read and write…” — Isabel Allende
NWP needs your help to sustain the different programs it runs for our nation. Please support the national and the local (Kennesaw Mountain Writing Project) sites that continue to provide vital resources to schools and higher education institutions across the country. Click on this link to give generously.
Your contribution supports:
- Student achievement in writing
- Teacher excellence through high-quality professional development for teachers in all disciplines, early childhood through university
- Leveraging the power of digital technology and the internet for use by teachers and young people
- Writing instruction for teachers and students in high-need schools and communities
- A national network of teacher-leaders and Writing Project sites building knowledge about writing and learning in all 50 states, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin Islands.
Referencing the USDOE information on i3 validation, “These grants will (1) allow eligible entities to expand and develop innovative practices that can serve as models of best practices, (2) allow eligible entities to work in partnership with the private sector and the philanthropic community, and (3) identify and document best practices that can be shared and taken to scale based on demonstrated success.”–Investing in Innovation (i3)
I am a member of the National Writing Proram, a journey that I was very lucky to be chosen to be a part of this summer (2012), a journey that transformed my life, view, and appreciation of all teachers and students of writing.
Although teachers know the intrinsic connection between writing and higher level thinking, it comes as a welcome reminder when NPW awakens our awareness of that fact. “Across the popular press, reporters and commentators have sounded the centrality of writing in the Common Core; the significance of writing in coherent, thoughtful curricula; and the clear connection between success in writing and success in college and career.”
Thousands of teachers are members of NWP, and I am one of such lucky people. When you visit my National Writing Program page, you will see my Knowledge Cloud, words that I have used in my postings on the NWP site collected together much like a Wordle. That’s how amazing the National Writing Program is.
Writing is a very beneficial aspect of humanity, the most significant quality that truly pits the intelligence of humans above any other species. I am growing in my connection to writing and to writing friends. Together we can make a difference in writing and in helping NWP continue its unmatched efforts.
Frances Ohanenye’s Knowledge Cloud
Meditations of Thanksgiving
This week of Thanksgiving, this entry is centered around gratitude. I am thankful for many, many things and to many, many people. My daughter serenaded me with many birthday gifts and events on my birthday yesterday. I have thanked her for my wonderful gifts and for her abundant love. I thank God everyday for bringing her into my life, such joy, such a perfect gift, and such help and comfort. Also, I thank my ex-husband for pro-creating her with me.
The famous Ralph Waldo Emerson asked us to “Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude.” I include all things and all people in this blog of gratitude. On that note, I will post my meditation journey for the second leg of the 21-Day Meditation Challenge with Deepak Chopra. This week’s journey culminates with a lengthy entry of gratitude.
Entry 10: What would I do without my tears? They came in drops, a pair falling at a time as if synchronized. Karma is always a fascinating topic, but this is good Karma. I banished all noise and all distractions and reached my “destination.” I cleansed my soul and spirit, so, so refreshing and liberating. I cannot believe that the journey is half way over. I need to be fastidious about my meditation after this event ends with Deepak. Namaste.
Entry 11: Towards the end of my journey today, I pressed my eyes tightly together, and the right eye released some tears calling my attention to the flesh. Today’s own was a deluge falling freely and cascading down like Tugela, Africa’s tallest waterfalls. Despite the droning noise of Jerry’s leaf blower trying to intrude from my lawn, the sound of Deepak’s soothing and embracing meditation music allowed me to go within and stay within disconnecting from my body. I was able to delve in and touch peace. Today, I expect and accept abundance to flow easily to me. Namaste.
Entry 12: I was going to begin today’s meditation but had to delay it because someone rang the doorbell and my dog let out successive and aggressive barks. There is something about the doorbell that annoys her, I guess. Anyway, I could not begin today’s meditation until the noise from outside the house and the one Princess was making inside the house stopped from interfering with my ability to focus, to reach my essence. Now we begin. Yes, I reached in, far in, unaware of my skin. The gentle, crashing waves in the background of the music pulled me in, and I honed into it and allowed it to settle within me and center me. I placed my deepest intentions on a list, placed it in a metaphorical bottle, cast it into the vast ocean of all possibilities, and allowed the universe to work through me today. Deliver, universe, deliver all that I placed before you today. The evidence of my arrival are the tears that mingled with those of the vast oceans of the world. I give you my tears as proof that you and I communed today, Universe. Namaste.
Entry 13: I had applied mud mask to my face before I began today’s meditation, which was no problem because the mask had tried completely and would have posed no problem or distraction to my centering ability. Unfortunately, as soon as I reached within, I felt the tears falling down my left cheek causing an awareness of the mask. The tears made the mask balmy, clammy, and I became aware of my face even at the faintest level. I was able to will myself to ignore that sensation and focus. I was almost arriving there when the bell rang for the end of today’s session. I am glad the tears came, but today they proved to be a distraction because they came prematurely, which has an inherent reference to time. Ironically, that is the message of today’s meditation. In the spiritual realm, there are no restrictions of time and space. Only in the physical realm do time and space occur. Opportunities are boundless and so are potentialities in the spiritual realm. Namaste.
Retreat at St. Ignatius House in Sandy Springs, Georgia
Entry 14: Since Sunday is harmonious, it seems perfect to wake up this morning and meditate in order to capture the law of Dharma, conformity with my character, virtue, and nature. Yes, the tears came, the right eye releasing its first in droplets. I guess I have found a way to determine whether I reached my center if the tears come and how far I reached if the tears cascade. Today’s own did not cascade, but the right eye’s tears flowed and dropped while the ones from the left eye hung there. I feel so peaceful, which I know today will amplify by all the events planned for it: church in a few minutes and a day of religious retreat at the St. Ignatius House in Sandy Springs. I am looking forward to a world of absorption of goodness flowing into me, through me, and out to others. This would be one way I can fulfill my true purpose in life besides publishing those novels, manuals, and books of poetry. Another way would be to share my life’s journey and my survival of numerous deaths, devastations, and whatnots. Deliver, Universe, deliver. Namaste.
Entry 15: I forgot to remove my glasses, hence I made myself aware of my body. I tried to go within, but my body needed to make itself known today. Needless to say, Deepak Chopra’s voice distracted me from me so that I did not have to work at ignoring my glasses; I succeeded. The idea of synchrodestiny is very intriguing. The dictionary offers no definition of it yet, but I imagine that in years to come, that word coined my Deepak Chopra will become one of our day-to-day vocabulary because of its beauty and lyrical sound. Tears came when I opened my eyes to let me know that I connected with the universe through my core. I will try harder next time. I will shed all things that make me aware of the body. I will disengage the skin, the flesh, and be all in tune, one with my soul, my spirit. Namaste.
Thank you God for this bounty from my rose garden!
Entry 16: Today, I remember to be grateful. I am always grateful to my family and friends, to the nature that gives me back in all sorts of ways especially when I cultivate it and it returns blooms upon blooms in my rose garden and my other gardens, when it returns abundant harvest to the farmers so that we can have food and have it abundantly. I am always grateful and always say thanks to anyone who has helped me, done something for me and mine. In honor of that, I dedicate today’s tears that cascaded down my face to everyone who inhabits this universe of ours. Today’s tears are ones of gratitude for all that I am (God and my parents), all that I have (God, my parents, and my employers), all that gives/gave me joy (God, my parents, my daughter, my talents and creativity, my brothers and sisters, my relatives, my friends–some of who are like relatives, and everyone and everything that elevate me).
Count Your Blessings!
Today’s tears, befittingly, are tears of gratitude, especially during this traditional week of Thanksgiving. I am grateful to those tears that have made me aware of my soul, that have cleansed my spirit, that have enriched me daily on this meditation journey with Deepak Chopra and many, many other souls like me. I am eternally grateful for these tears that have allowed me to reach my higher self. I am humbled. Namaste.
Five Steps of the New Writing Process
After years of using the Writing Process to teach students how to organize their writing for maximum effect, the time has come for me to rejuvenate my own look at the Writing Process. Therefore, what unfolds is an adherence to the old but with a fresh look for those who already have a firm grip of the traditional Writing Process. Also, this New Writing Process is elevated for college students and other adults.
STEP ONE: PREWRITING–Brainstorm and gather all utensils and ideas ready for your writing pleasure.
STEP 2: DRAFTING–Immerse yourself in your writing until you feel that you have exhausted all ideas.
STEP 3: REVISING–Incorporate colorful/figurative language for contrast no matter how subtle.
STEP 4: PROOFREADING–Try to see your writing from different perspectives (points of view) and adjust accordingly.
STEP 5: PUBLISHING–Celebrate your writing by leaving a lasting impression in the minds of your readers.
Something About a River
I can’t pinpoint when or where the thought planted itself, germinated, and flowered; but somewhere in my literary life, water factors in a significant way.
My bones acknowledge it. I may not have been aware of it as a universal truth to my existence. Still, every fiber of my existence, every whiff of my breath from one black hair follicle to my toe’s cuticle must have known that I was born to write by a body of water.
Something about that magnetic liquid invigorates my gray cells, activates my creativity to a most forceful recognition, and transforms my visions into creations better than my wildest imagination.
I have watched Something’s Gotta Give numerous times to the point that I wore out my first DVD and bought a new one. The house in that movie hits me anew each time. I saw my life as it should be in that movie and salivate over it.
My recognition and acceptance of my brain’s obsession with a body of water stood front and center on the shore featured in SGG. I thought I was alone in my obsession of this house by the ocean until I performed a search and discovered that every man and woman with refined taste have drooled over the scenes involving the house located on Martha’s Vineyard.
Yahoo pulled up over four hundred, thirty-one million hits. The result shows I am not the only drooler of both the interior and the grounds. But since this post is about the backyard’s effect on me, I will focus on it and force myself to ignore that indescribable house as much as my heart bleeds for the neglect.
The fact that I grew up about thirty miles from the Atlantic Ocean on the south side of Nigeria does not factor much in this under-the-radar allegiance to a river. I drove over bridges from Aba to Port-Harcourt uncountable times, but I don’t recall setting foot on any of Atlantic Ocean’s inlets in Port-Harcourt. Such proximity guaranteed us fresh edibles from the ocean. That much I remember.
When I sit by a river, as happened recently by the Chattahoochee, my words take on an elevated form of profoundness with the gliding of each soft tide. My thoughts converge and diverge and achieve effortless uniformity with the river’s collective flow. Something about a river channels my thoughts, massages my scalp, and allows it to produce cerebrations that accentuate every feeling.
I dream without end about that house (or my own seaside abode) with me planted where Diane Keaton sat and with a perfect view of my muse: ocean or river. I need a house by a body of water because something about a river opens my brain to pour out some of the most iridescent pieces I have ever composed.
I need a house by the river whose graceful and gentle nature ebbs and flows with the lyrics in my outpouring. A lake will stifle that efflorescence like plants lacking water and sun. River courses through my veins causing the meshing and the blending of unique creations. I need a house by a river.
Frances Ohanenye, a literary nomad-- 
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