Soul Writing- This Sunday Feb 3, 2013

Small steps take us from where we are to where we want to be. Do you love to write? Have you ever wanted to write a book but felt intimidated by the process? If your answer is yes to both questions then please join the circle for the first of what I hope will be a monthly opportunity to spend time on writing, editing, sharing, and self publishing. Please RSVP by Friday Feb 1 to rejjarts@gmail.com so I can know how many people to expect.

Soul Writing: Drop In Circle
Sunday, February 3

Noon-1:30PM

Amor Spiritual Center

2528 Beacon Ave S.

Seattle, WA 98144

What to bring: Your ideas and the writing tools of your choice (pen and paper, laptop, etc)

The Details: My name is Reagan Jackson and I will be facilitating the circle. In 2010 I took a collection of my poetry and turned it into a book called God, Hair, Love, and America which I self published through Createspace.com . The entire process was wonderful, from writing and selecting the poems to creating themes and titles and finally putting the whole thing together. In the end, I not only had a book that I could hold in my hand, but a product that is currently being sold online through Amazon.com, Barnes and Nobles, Ebay, and other sites. There is even a kindle version. Locally Left Bank Books, Santoro’s Books, A Poetry Emporium, and the Center for Spiritual Living Bookstore have stocked my book and it has been entered into several libraries systems.

All of this started out as just a fun and exciting project, a Christmas present for my mother who was forever asking me to share my work. But it evolved into something so much greater. It turned into an opportunity for me to share a part of myself with the world in a way that will last beyond my lifespan. I really had no idea what I was doing, but now I do. It is my intention to share what I have learned through this process with anyone who is interested and to help them create their own book. Though my focus will be more on self-publishing, I will also provide resources for those interested in publishing in a more traditional way. All ages are welcome.

Agenda for the first circle:
• Writing Prompt: I Write Because / Disernment Exercise
• Introductions and Intention Setting

• Group Agreements

• Goals and action steps moving forward

Excerpt from God, Hair, Love, and America

The Afro-petting Zoo Is Closed:

A Public Service Announcement in 3 Parts

1

Freedom of speech is all cool,

but sometimes my hair be talkin’ shit

Not when she’s twisted or braided down

and wrapped in silk,

but sometimes,

when freshly washed and oiled

smelling like coconut and ocean

all soft and luscious

billowing up and out

wild and free,

she gets an attitude,

starts talking to strangers.

She be like “Psst. Hey.  I look soft don’t I?”

She says “ Touch me, I’m like perfumed velvet,

You know you wanna touch me.”

* Now this is important: Don’t listen to her.*

2

The following is a dramatization

based on several unfortunately true events.

It was Saturday night at the club.

She was blond and sparkly

Shellacked into white go-go boots

and a pink spandex mini-dress

that was made to hold

much less of her,

but she didn’t care.

It was her birthday!

She was pink and special

And the tequila was free!

As she tottered out into the street,

Loosely supported by two equally drunk friends,

Her eyes fixed on me,

A vision of chocolate goodness,

The tremendous fluff of my ‘fro

So soft, so downy, black cotton candy

Cried out to her

Like a giant puffy siren

Singing her towards

Her own destruction

“Touch me.

I’m just as plush as that rabbit you had in kindergarten,

Pet me.”

It all happened quickly.

Startling the crowd of cool kids smoking by the door,

She let out a squeal of elation

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

She shed her friends,

like a beer stained coat and

came careening towards me,

the fat in her dress set into motion

like two warring sock puppets

tarped in pink,

A mass of bubble gum jello

jiggling,

JIGGLING,

Her two hands

like the metal grabby claws

in those glass bins filled with toys

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

Coming closer,

closer…

*SLAP*                

The slap reverberated through the street.

Smoking ceased.

The bouncer eyed us warily,

The only sound was

the throb of diva house spilling out from the club.

A smile was turned upside down.

Pink sparkly lips quavered:

“It’s my birthday,” she whimpered “You didn’t have to…”

OH… but I did!

Don’t let this happen to you.

 

3

It’s big, it’s invisible,

And it surrounds me constantly

I like to call it:

“My personal space bubble.”

In the words of singer, song writer

India Arie

“I am not my hair.”

All views expressed by my hair

are not necessarily my views.

Any invitations issued by my hair

are subject to interpretation

and possible recrimination,

So to avoid potential litigation

and / or possible bitch slapping,

treat me like I am the VIP lounge

complete with velvet ropes

and burley men named Thor

forming a barrier between you and my hair.

If you’re not on the list,

Don’t touch me.

Thank you for your time and attention