Tag: creative writing
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 Cemetery; where many children went to dreamin’, laughing … Read More Summer Memory at Dripping Springs, Featured on Rutger Hauer’s – Soap Box Poets
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 fog, reach the eyes. One will find many treasures and visions among the souls of townsfolk here. You will find them waiting for you among the thorned, … Read More Marrowbone Town is as Ancient and Orphic as the Memory is Intimate with Secrets…
My Father told me, – ” Desire is a mighty strong and strange force, my child; working its alchemical magic upon our child like, puppet souls.” I never knew where Jupiter came from that December, southern night, when I was walking that same old, red clay road that lead into Dusty Spirit Springs, mining town…my town. The power of some mighty aligning stars, must … Read More Jupiter and Lucinda; and the Backbone of a Knucklehead Motorcycle
He, the One who has given me everything, walks before me in the light that hides in dark places of the forest. The sun casts his shadow, a forging of smoke patterns that are winged and amaranthine. It is in his eyes, the vigilant watching of a believer; one who willfully ensnares a moment for you to behold. He speaks words that have the … Read More ‘The Forgotten Promise’
The Child always feels the Power of Presence and its Place among the Living, in our Time of Knowing.
As a child, that always ran towards the sun, I look for things that can never be found. I reach out to ones that have no answer- I see their smiling love, joyful laughter, like whispers in the wind… They are fleeting moments; in a locked time piece. I can hear the distant clock chime, a lonely moment signaling the time is near. It sits … Read More The Child always feels the Power of Presence and its Place among the Living, in our Time of Knowing.
(The moments that align) ‘Lucinda Mae, Jupiter and a Pig Named Pearl in Dusty Spirit Springs’ by Tommie Flannery Baskis The moments I speak of now are carved deep within the child I once was. The breath of my soul, fearless in the path of the great mystery, I stood proud, in the place of my time; in the place of my knowing. … Read More ‘Lucinda Mae, Jupiter and a Pig Named Pearl in Dusty Spirit Springs’
“The life that came before us, once was more, than a forgotten dream. It is from this place, that we have come forth.”
I have always enjoyed finding ‘a lost story’ among the ruins of abandoned places. There is a mystery, a hidden tale to be unlocked from those things and people that have come before us. It is like a quiet force that calls to me; to discover what must be seen and understood. I have a unique perspective and purpose to shine a light upon these things, places and … Read More “The life that came before us, once was more, than a forgotten dream. It is from this place, that we have come forth.”
Early Town, the Carnival Lady and an Attic of Secrets (c.) 2018 Duskflyer Vision Art & Productions, Tommie Flannery Baskis The days set slowly in Early Town where shadows arrange in mysterious shapes under hazy trees of late summer. I walk along a dry path. A dusting of cinnamon shimmer rises and settles in a traveling breeze across the field of milkweed and yarrow. … Read More Early Town, the Carnival Lady and an Attic of Secrets
I have always loved searching and watching for the mystery within my journeys of abandoned places, rural haunts, forests and the things left behind. Many of these hidden moments are shrouded in stillness, so one must listen and watch, carefully, for the ‘lost story’ among the ruins. Some objects stand out, among the clutter, as if shining to be seen…the many sounds, seasons and light cast … Read More The Mystery of the Music Box Spirit House
I stand small, in the summer of my innocence, beneath the ancient, lumbering, struck walnut tree. The shimmery, amber haze of thick Summer sun, hypnotizes me; I dream of a silver winged storm that struck a jagged and cavernous rip down through the black walnut tree above me. Moving on the lazy porch swing by the river, I remember the pungent green scent … Read More The Lightning Walnut Tree
After the storm water drops, cool upon my hair, like tears from leaves, from the forest. A gentle symphony sounds… of falling drops cascading from different heights, cicada buzzing and a hidden owl, watching. The scent of rain, I will remember, like I remembered when I was a child… A fresh sweetness from the new damp, electrically charged, was exciting to me. The dark roots of trees … Read More A Journey after the Storm, Mimosa by the Forest and the Broken Window House
My Mission and Story as an Artisan Perfumer; The Importance of Creating without Synthetic Aldehydes and Toxins
“Ever since I was young, my appreciation for the ‘real’ things in life were very important to me. I always loved the taste of real butter on my food, heavy cream in my coffee, natural honey and sugars, ripe garden vegetables. The scent of essences and spices from garden herbs and flowers were always sensual and intriguing to me.” As a child I … Read More My Mission and Story as an Artisan Perfumer; The Importance of Creating without Synthetic Aldehydes and Toxins