Write… Until You Get It

I’ve been mentally blogging the last few nights when I should have been asleep. Having full-blown internal conversations during hours I should be asleep. I am used to waking up in the wee hours of the morning. This is when I pray, uttering my most humble thoughts to God and listen intently for answers. This is when I create, allowing the characters to take over and spill forth onto my computer and notebooks.

There are many similarities between my mother and myself. I know when something is plaguing her mind because she begins to clean obsessively. I watched her clean the same area for hours. She moves from one area of the house to another. Wiping, moving, rearranging, and thinking. Her cleaning is a physical expression of what her mind is doing.

I, on the other hand, I throw things away. I clean as well but when my mind is greatly troubled, something must go. Subconsciously I begin looking around for things that are not of great importance. What was once full may instantly be completely emptied. I need to see the physical separation of something and myself as I work through things. I have been throwing away things all week. Even as I type this I have planned the next areas I will go through when I get home.

My grandmother cussed like a sailor when and wherever she pleased. I usually only profanity around people I am very comfortable with. With those individuals, my guard drops and I release the death grip I’ve learned to keep on my tongue. When I am greatly upset, profanity comes with ease. This week I have mentally arranged cuss words that would redden the most experienced sailor. I am not mad, I am greatly disappointed.

Extremely strong old-fashioned black women raised me. Our home was not for the weak or easily broken so I developed thick skin very early in life. I do not believe in sulking nor the throwing of pity parties. I am the friend that my friends share all their secrets, fears, hopes, and disappointments with. When they are done I lovingly tell them what I think, not just what they want to hear. However, occasionally life dropkick you in the belly and even the strongest are dropped to their feet. I am not one full of tears but this most recent situation has had me weeping. At the most stupid things too…. Ugh. Or the fact that just writing weeping makes me want to begin crying all over again.

Let’s talk about good news…

I have finally completed “Zora! Let The People Sing!”. It took quite a while longer than I expected but I loved every moment of it. I researched so much to make this production as authentic as possible. This weekend I will tour two potential venues where it will be held. I’ve booked a set and wardrobe designer which is very exciting. Now to get to production.

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Nykieria Chaney, Fred Hampton Stage Play, Black Playwrights,  Zora Neale Hurston Play, Fred Hampton, Black Writers, Black DiBlrectors, Women in Film, Black Playwrights for hire, Black broadway plays, N. Chaney, Nykieria, #FredHampton, #FredHamptonStagePlay, #FredHamptonPlay #ZoraNealeHurston #ZoraNealeHurstonPlay #WomeninFilm #NykieriaChaney #NChaney #BlackPlaywrights #BlackWriters #BlackDirectors #BlackCreators #BlackOwnedBusiness #BlackProductionCompanies #NDCProductions #TheChairman The Chairman #ZoraLetThePeopleSing