Freedom of Expression

This was written for the Write Tribe Wednesday writing prompt.

      Freedom of expression touches anyone who creates…whether their creations are artistic and visual, written and sensory, or expressed with the beat and swells of music.  Without it the world would be deprived of the best work of the most creative and gifted minds whether they are artists, writers, or musicians.  In my mind, the world we know would cease to exist and become a dark place indeed.  After all every single person has an opinion whether they give voice to it or not.  All people are unique and have different tastes.  Still without the freedom of expression no one would ever truly know the innermost nuances of those around them.  The creativity of the world would be effectively squelched.

        When I blog I give voice to my innermost ideas and thoughts.  My ideas are given life as they flow through my fingers as they caress and pound my keyboard often to the spiritually uplifting beat of my favorite music.  I often write with little censure simply letting my words flow through me directly to the keyboard.  In this vehicle, I feel my voice is heard, my feelings expressed, and my story told.  It is a liberating feeling and there is nothing that can compare to it.  I think that is why I write.  I need that outlet.  I need to express myself.  Without that creative outlet, I wouldn’t be me.

       I have been a creative soul my whole life expressing myself through my art first, playing piano and feeling the expression of the great composers as my fingers moved over the keys my emotions swelling and falling with the music next, and finally through the written word here on my blog.  I didn’t wake up one day dreaming to write.  I always dreamed of being an artist.  I took the path life led me on, and to my surprise I ended up writing instead and satisfying that creative itch that burns inside me here.   Here I am free to finally be me, with no holds barred and there is no greater gift to possess than that.

       It is little wonder that so many fight for the freedom of expression 
without censure and to do as they please and see fit in their daily lives.  How sad it would be to be rigidly oppressed and unable to soar, dream, and live following the path God intends for us as unique individuals with something vital to share with the world.  That is why freedom of expression is so vital. That is why we celebrate it with so much passion.

History

This week's Writer's Post Blog Hop is hosted by Darla at "Blessed Little Creatures".  This post was written in response to her prompt.

    When I was a teenager I visited the Hermitage plantation in Nashville, Tennessee with my mom and was blown away by the pure history that surrounded me.  If you listened carefully you could almost hear the whispers of the occupants that once lived there.  It was mind boggling to realize a hundred years or so before folks were going about their business in that exact spot.  History was being made. Andrew Jackson himself walked those same paths.  He slept in that room and dined at that table.  I wonder if in a hundred years or so down the road if people will wonder about me and what made me tick, where I slept, what I ate, and how I felt about things. 

      Even though we were only minutes away from the bustling metropolis of Nashville, there in that place time had been frozen as it once was when Andrew Jackson had lived.  The slave cabins were intact and even more fascinating…quite a distant from the house stood the outhouse.  It kind of blew my mind at the time because of the way it was constructed and where.  Not only was it quite a jaunt from the main house, it accommodated three people with three holes.  Seriously it was an outhouse built for three.  Not only that, there was absolutely no privacy.  My crazy animated mind quickly conjured up these people of the past sitting side by side taking a crap…together. 

Boy, have we come a long way from those days without indoor toilets with doors and economy sized cans of Febreeze!   What I find even more astonishing is that I know, I just know those folks must have woke in the night and had to go. That was a hell of a long way to run.   I guess folks just did their business in a china commode right in their room in those days and inhaled the fumes for the rest of the night.  Or I imagine when they were done, they threw it out the window.  Watch out below for flying turds!  Maybe that is where the old story my dad used to tell of a man getting killed by a flying turd came from.  I wonder!   Boy, am I glad I live now in the land of indoor toilets, running water, and ventilation!!

       I eagerly anticipated history class in high school and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I think it is important to learn history because it is only through learning what happened in the past that we can truly understand and grasp the present and the future. Like those that came before us, we live, we learn, and proceed forward with that knowledge.

Wordless Wednesday- Back to School!

      This morning started way too early when the alarm sounded at 5:30 am.  I can't believe the summer is over and it is time for back to school.  As if the summer is giving up the ghost, the swimming pool overflowed during last nights storm and effectively emptied by this morning!  With morning temperatures in the upper 40's I pulled the plug on the pool's pump effectively saying goodbye to summer.  Even the pool doesn't want to deal with those kind of temperatures in August!!

Loaded down with notebooks, pencils, and gym shoes...off to 7th grade and a new adventure in junior high!

Off to second grade! Thankfully that backpack will be loads lighter on the return trip!