The Abandoned Story, A Written and Pictorial Journey of Abandoned Places, Rural Haunts and Small Towns

The Abandoned Story, A Written and Pictorial Journey ofAbandoned Places, Rural Haunts and Small Towns of Indiana “I have created since I can remember and I love to be an integral part in this magical existence we call creation.The power of the sun finding its path into an abandoned house; reaching its path into a… Continue reading The Abandoned Story, A Written and Pictorial Journey of Abandoned Places, Rural Haunts and Small Towns

Excited to Announce, My Published Book, ‘The Abandoned Story’ Volumes I & II, are now available on Apple iBooks, Kindle and Blurb

The Abandoned Story, A Written and Pictorial Journey of Abandoned Places, Rural Haunts and Small Towns of Indiana by Tommie Flannery Baskis | Blurb Books The Abandoned Story | Blurb Books Blurb ebook: The Abandoned Story by Tommie Flannery Baskis The Links above are for the purchase and preview, of my E-Book and Hard-Copy, Coffee… Continue reading Excited to Announce, My Published Book, ‘The Abandoned Story’ Volumes I & II, are now available on Apple iBooks, Kindle and Blurb

The 200 Year Old Historic Flint Ridge Community and the 1827 Church that was the Cornerstone

The Flint Ridge and Mammoth Cave area was a bustling, vibrant community for 200 years. The tight-knit community took care of its own by teaching their young, farming the very rugged hillsides, operated and showed the caves to interested paying parties to provide for their families. The lovely wood church built in 1827, was the… Continue reading The 200 Year Old Historic Flint Ridge Community and the 1827 Church that was the Cornerstone

Marrowbone Town’s Secrets

    Marrowbone town is as ancient and orphic as the memory is intimate with secrets. Light is the same at Marrowbone in the morning as it is at dusk, when the sun and star shine, upon silver sheen fog, reach the eyes. One will find many treasures and visions among the souls of townsfolk… Continue reading Marrowbone Town’s Secrets

~ A TOWN AT NIGHT HAS ITS OWN SECRETS ~

      ~ A Town at Night has its own Secrets ~   ‘A town at night has its own secrets.’ An old woman whispered this into my child’s ear when I was I was growing.  I recall the late afternoon she came shuffling down the lane by our house in October, while my Daddy… Continue reading ~ A TOWN AT NIGHT HAS ITS OWN SECRETS ~

Untitled

Summer Memory at Dripping Springs © by Tommie Flannery Baskis Late summer days linger in hazy dreams before the door of autumn. I find in Dripping Springs an old forgotten rose bush by the white clapboard home, abandoned many, many summers ago. The rotten bird house still clings to a post at the old, Pickett… Continue reading Untitled

‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’

    ‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’ The Lady of dust and woods, creates thoughts in dreams, upon the weight of wings in a dark forest. Thoughts that shimmer and drape, silk white aether, on the cindered soil of forgotten leaf dust. She, the one they call when shadows no longer follow… Unfolds… Continue reading ‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’

Old Grandpier Primitive Baptist Church

“The watcher knows the mystery in the living, dances close to what we promised to not remember…” The vision will be dreamed through the season of knowing… The vision will be passed on to you and me… Tommie,  I>  I=   Old Grandpier Primitive Baptist Church It was a very old Baptist Church, settled on… Continue reading Old Grandpier Primitive Baptist Church

Angel Blue & Einar, in Iron Forest (I>) Town (e)

  Matthew 10:26 “So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed. or hidden that will not be made known… What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight…” Matthew 10:34 “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I… Continue reading Angel Blue & Einar, in Iron Forest (I>) Town (e)

‘Dancing in the Doorway, in Featherbed Hollow’

I can still hear the deep throaty sound of the cam on his Granddaddy’s flathead V8 truck, as he ripped through the dusty roads of Featherbed Hollow; one of the roads that led to me, that steamy summer. I stood in the doorway, moving my hips slowly to the electric hum of cicada, while Billie Holiday’s… Continue reading ‘Dancing in the Doorway, in Featherbed Hollow’