Alien Tea Shoppe

My California Mom, 1970s Even though this post is about California to an extent, we first have to begin in Mississippi.  The capital of Jackson and surrounding area's, as well as the small town of Canton.  In 1995, the film adaptation of John Grisham's novel, A Time To Kill, was being filmed.  I was only fourteen, so my story does not start here, although this is the beginning. My sisters then boyfriend, a Jackson native, was a locations scout for the film.  So she went a long with him to help and ended up being an extra in the film.  She was just out of college, so had plenty of time to drive up there and stay; to be a part of all of the filming.  While my sister encountered all of the major players they were not really on speaking terms.  Three people from that film, however, would have a hand in her life. The first was Octavia Spencer.  Now, she's a big deal, but then she was just a beginning actress with a small bit role in A Time T...

It is getting dark again Dusk shuffle across the fields The evening trees moan  (as if they knew) At night I always dream  (of you) At that point,   Åkerfeldt launches into a 30 second lamenting scream.  The likes of which makes your heart rattle inside it's cage.  The type of scream that makes you remember what loss feels like; of which that leaves your heart achingly sorrowful. I used to really be into the Swedish progressive death metal band, Opeth.  The 20 minute Black Rose Immortal, was never a favourite of mine... except for those lines and his final, heart wrenching scream.   I hadn't listened to this song in a very long time, but recently some memories came to mind which made me have another listen.  Particularly pertaining to The Man with the Brother Tattoo.  A drizzly, stormy day; mid week.  I, maneuvering us through the city in our red rocket; coordinates programmed in; we arrived safely at all of our destinations. ...

Time marches slowly onward.  Time speeds up, slows down, speeds up... again. I've come to this point in my life.  I was picked up one day, flung around, like being stuck in a hurricane, going to & fro; round & round in a circle.  Ever circling downward.  Like some sort of Kamikaze pilot spiraling out of control, yet all the while, in control. Instead of slamming into the ground, however, I was shoved forward, crammed into this tiny hole.  I was suffocating there for awhile.  A long while indeed.  "Just let go.  Let it go."  I realized I was carrying so many unwanted things; I dropped them, as bid and no more suffocation, no more being stuck; waiting; no more dying in that hole. No, now I am dead.  I am in a tunnel of mortar and damp.  Feeling around for the exit.  The tunnel behind me is riddled with the shackles I have taken off.  Shed.  I am free of all of that.  Every now and then there are signa...