Blood Moon Blues

Silhouette of couple kissing under full moon. Guy kiss girl hand on full moon silhouette background. Valentine`s day decor concept. Silhouette of loving couple kissing against the moon

Photo Credit zeferli

This morning I find myself unable to sleep sipping cold water and listening to Ambrosia (The anthology) with the song “How Much I Feel” on inescapably on repeat. Inescapably….Like the song, that word is binding me. I can’t escape my Blood Moon Sunday 2019 experiences. Not the physical ones, the emotional ones and, their psychological effects.


Unlike everyone else, I had no desire to view the Blood Moon. I was back in South Florida visiting friends and really didn’t and don’t understand the excitement behind it.  But, I felt it. Yes, I know I’m rambling. I’m getting there….wait for it.

One particular friend I was overly excited to spend time with. We dated while I lived in Florida. We argued and disagreed while I lived in Florida. And, I closed him out and added his headstone to the already overcrowded backyard in my memory (Short story; I’ll write about it on a later date. Just know my cutoff game is swift). Still there was something in the air it seemed, calling my soul to see him this weekend.  And our schedules managed to sync on Blood Moon Sunday 2019.

Now, let me clarify something. I’m single, There are some men from my past I prefer not to entertain for any reason what so ever. But not this one. I can’t shake him from my Spirit. I need to see him each and every time I visit S. Florida. I can’t even try to explain why because there were so many discrepancies in our situation that I can’t even define it as a relationship.  As far as I know, my friend is single. I haven’t asked. I don’t want to give him a reason to lie to me. Lies are the deal breaker with me. As the saying goes, “scratch a liar, catch a thief…”. Even the simplest lie will have me questioning everything you say to me from that point on.  Trust ain’t an easy thang….

“I don’t know how
This whole business started
Of you thinkin’ that
I had been untrue”

Late Sunday evening the air was cool and thick in Fort Lauderdale. From the moment he let me know he was on his way to see me it felt like I was inhaling and exhaling ice cold fresh milk. At the same time I was sweating. Not profusely. Just slightly, across the forehead.  My body temperature was rising. Gone was my normally cool composure. I was excited. And like the Pointer Sisters so energetically put it “I’m about to lose control and I think I like it, I’m so excited . And I just can’t hide it.”.  At this moment is the only way I could explain what I was feeling. But, as I write this, it’s Ambrosia and, “How Much I Feel”, supplying the fuel for my curren’t unorganized thoughts.

Me and my music. My music and me. It controls me, it consumes me, engulfs me…The Music in Me...

“Oh no, I’d give it all and
Then I’d, give some more
If you would only love me
Like you had before”

When he finally arrived I was able to pull myself together and feign a bit of composure.  I didn’t immediately jump his bones (the thought was there intertwined with the sweat condensing on my forehead).  I managed a well controlled hug. Then it happened. I felt the moon being overshadowed by the earth. The air was so thick. My friend, slowly, gently, almost innocently kissed my sweaty forehead then my lips before pulling from our embrace.  Two days later the air is still thick.  And, I am not in control of my emotions.

“Oh, take hold of my hand
And all will be forgiven…”

silhouette couple in fashionable clothes on a shiny background

Photo Credit Ruslan Grigoriev and

The kisses didn’t stop with the end of our embrace. My friend showered me with kisses in between conversation and ummm, congress and well after, until I felt myself falling asleep.  Can you imagine the intensity of being softly kissed to sleep? Before Blood Moon Sunday 2019, I couldn’t. Now I can’t shake it and I am not used to not being in control. I can’t sleep. So, I listen to music and, I write….

“Oh no, there’s just something
That I got to say
Sometimes when we make love
I still can see your face
Ooh, just try to recall
When we were as one, yeah”

He missed me. I missed him. We missed us. The Blood Moon and it magnetic forces were in control, consuming us. And now I am believer. Although, I still don’t know what to do about the plethora of intense emotions left in its wake.

I have a 6:30am flight in a few hours back to my grandchildren in Virginia.  I’ll have plenty of time to think about what I will say to him during our next phone call. And, hopefully, the power of the Blood Moon will still have a strong hold over us when I come back to visit next month. Power strong enough to last until the next Blood Moon. Those  moments had intensity I need to relive over and over again because, I never want to forget.

“That’s how much I feel
Feel for you baby
How much I need
I need your touch
How much I live
I live for your lovin’
That’s how much
That’s how much
That’s how much
That’s how much…”

Goodnight. ~The1Essence




Playing House

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Photo by Leo Cardelli on

When I was a small child, around 5 or 6 years of age, I had a good friend named Paula who lived next door to me. Every day I would rush through homework and chores so that I could get outside and play with her.

Paula liked to play house. Since I was a couple of years younger than her, I played what Paula wanted to play and always by her rules. She was the “momma” and I was the “daddy”. Paula always started off our game really nice. She would pretend to take care of the kids and I would pretend to be off at somewhere at work and, Paula would call me often on our pretend telephones to tell me what was going on with her day at home with the kids. Really, Paula called a lot! So much so, that later, in my adult life I would take pains not to call my husband at work with trivial things.

Our “house” game always ended the same way. After a day at “work”, I would come home to Paula nagging and complaining about how hard it had been on her while I was at work and she was at home taking care of our make believe children. Being a child myself and not being exposed to parents who constantly bickered, I had no idea how to respond to this part of the game so, I sat and listened to her for a while, then I would end the game by telling her I had to go. With my utterance of the word “leave”, Paula would beg and plead with me to stay outside and play, always promising to be play “nicer” and I would stay. Of course, to my frustration, it didn’t take long for Paula to be mean and nagging again.

After one particularly tedious game of “house”, I dismissed myself and went inside to ask my mother what I should do. Mom sat across from me at the kitchen table with her head resting on one hand and listened quietly while I finished blurting out my concerns. When she was sure I was finished talking she responded. This is how the conversation went:

Mom: “Do you want to play “house” with Paula anymore?”
Me: “No.”
Mom: “Why not?”
Me: “Because it’s not fun when she starts complaining and being mean.”
Mom: “Have you discussed this with Paula?”
Me: “Yes, Ma’am! And, she always promises to be nice but, doesn’t keep her promise.”
Mom: “Well, what do you think you should do?”
Me: “I don’t want to play “house” with her anymore?”
Mom: “Have you told Paula this?”
Me: “No! She might get mad and want to fight me. Then, we wouldn’t be friends anymore.”
Mom: “Well, are you really friends if the only games you can play together are one’s that she picks out, and where she gets to be mean to you?”
Me: No Answer. I was thinking. My mom had taught me to be a very rational young lady.
Mom: “Baby Girl. If you are not happy playing games the way Paula wants to play them and, she won’t listen to you when you tell her how you feel about it, I ask you again, is she really your friend? You don’t have to answer that right now. I know you will think about it and come to a decision that will be good for you.”

In the mind of a 5 or 6-year-old, you friends are everything. Needless to say, I didn’t take
me long to figure out what to do.

home real estate
Photo by Benji Mellish on

The next day, when Paula suggested we play house I flat out told her I wasn’t playing
house with her anymore. She protested and issued an ultimatum. If I didn’t play house
with her then I could just forget about us being friends!

Needless to say, I didn’t protest that one. I turned my little behind around and walked away. I didn’t play “house” or anything else with Paula after that. Something told my little mind that she really wasn’t my friend and that she played with me only because she could boss me around.

When I became an adult in a tumultuous relationship, I felt I loved this man but I was so
unhappy. One day I was staring out the window, trying to figure out what do when this
the memory of Paula and the way she “played house” came to mind.

The next time my boyfriend and I were together, I tried to talk to him about the way I felt about what was going on in our relationship. His responses were short and accusatory. It was my fault because I didn’t listen or, thought I knew everything. His opinion was, that I was a good catch and that, everything would be alright if I just did what he told me to do. And, you know what I did? I tried to do everything he asked me to when he asked and as fast as I could do it!

Only things didn’t get better. They got worse. His demands became greater and he was never satisfied with anything I did. There was always a problem with me. It got so bad for me in our relationship that I didn’t smile or laugh anymore. Everyone who knows me knows how much I loved to do both. But, I couldn’t when he was around. He would always make some negative comment that would soon turn my smile into a frown. And, I would go somewhere pouting, unhappy and feeling sorry for myself…and he would be happy.

No, really! He would be happy when he saw me unhappy! That’s when he wanted to talk about all these things that didn’t mean anything to me or have anything to do with us. As long as I was quiet and pouting, he was in his glory. I was playing “house” with Paula all over again! But, this time, I didn’t need my mother to push me in the right direction. I knew exactly what I had to do. And, that wasn’t talk. In the words of my Grandmother, “I can show you better than I can tell you”!

First, I stopped taking his calls. So, he began to send me emails and text messages constantly. You know the one that always start with “Baby” something, swim around “I need you”, and end with “I love you”? I didn’t answer any of them either.

I won’t tell you it was easy because, it was just the opposite. I threw myself into my writing to help ease the pain of loneliness. But, even with that, I perceived him as the victor. And, I couldn’t let him win. I had a God given right to happiness. And so, do you….

In learning to love this man from a distance, I began on the wonderful journey of not only learning to love myself but learning myself…Learning just who The1Essence is and cultivating a metamorphism into a beautiful butterfly. Still, it wasn’t easy. Accepting that you don’t truly love yourself is not an easy thing to do. It takes patience, tolerance, Faith and STRENGTH. And, I am still on that journey. But, ALWAYS better than I was yesterday.

And….my cut-off game is swift…

You have it in you too…I know you do because I was once you and, I believe in YOU….

“The hardest thing about life is learning how to live”! – The1Essence



Yesterday was my first day with nothing to do.

I thought I would write. But, I didn’t. I just knew all the words I have been holding in would gush out through my fingers. But, they didn’t.

I sat around the house, made a few phone calls, sent a few text, made a few Facebook posts. Nothing of substance beyond a much needed well deserved vegetative trance.

Then, a song popped into my head. I stopped breathing for just a moment. The rush of feelings accompanied by an overwhelming urge to breathe overcame me. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t exhale. I wanted to hold all those memories in and not share with anyone. I wanted to bathe in them with hopes they would send me back to those memories. Back to those good and bad times. Back to when life still smelled like fresh cut grass and sweet clover. Back to when the headlights of my mother’s car made the snow look like an endless a field of diamonds. I held my breath to hold in the sweetness. To hold in the love.

The song and the woman’s voice transfixed me. The sound of an angel bypassing my ears and speaking to my heart. I stared out the window, pinning myself to the window frame so no air could escape past me into the wind making my love disappear back to the past, never to be smelled, never to be felt again.

I needed to hear the song coming through the speakers on my laptop. So, I allowed myself to take and release sips of air while I searched. My mind was in overdrive trying to hold on to the memories and find the song.  I found it on youtube. I took a few more sips of air and let a few more out.

I found a video taped performance not just the song with the words scrolling up the screen, to bore me, clicked the play button and inhaled like I was smoking a freshly lit Newport.

I glanced at the performers hair and clothing. Their attire adding to the aroma. I filled my lungs with the 70’s closed my eyes and exhaled a field of sweet clover.

Summertime in the 70’s as a child flowed out my nostrils. Long car rides  at night with my mom. Pringles with my cousin on the porch of my Grandmother’s 7th and Greenbay Ave., home in Milwaukee, I-43 not more than 50 feet away, humming with happy adults coming and going. Living……

I was a child again, still innocent. Bouncing to Antioch Missionary Baptist Church on 20th and Atkinson to fellowship with my entire family. Back to when my biggest worry was if Grandmother would buy me a cheeseburger and fries from McDonalds. Yeast from the bread factory filled the air around the Hillside Projects where my Great Grandmother lived. Grass was green without sod and people loved each other. The song proved this. Nothing so perfect could come from a negative era in history.


I exhaled then inhaled a songbird. I was engulfed with a simpler way of life. I was so innocent. I didn’t know anything about racism. In my world Christian’s didn’t hate. Jim Jones was pure evil still, people eventually found a way to forgive him.  Terror was my Mom picking me up from Grandmother’s house before I could inhale more fun. This melody, now playing in my head, heart and mind filled me with love and once again I was innocent. And Alive….And happy.

The song was coming to an end. I wanted to hit repeat but I didn’t. I inhaled deeply once more then let the memories flow into the cool breeze, with complete understanding that all I had to do was push play again and I could go back….

I exhaled “Close To You”, by The Carpenters then sat down and wrote a blog about music….

3 Working Days Left

My goodness. I’m so close….But, my South Florida PTSD has kicked and i’m nauseated. When I lived in South Florida, everything that could go wrong did. Mostly stemming from my job. So, i’m just trying to stay low key and deal with the anxiety until 3pm Friday afternoon. Retirement will be grand!

I honestly can’t wait to put down my 10 years of experience in South Florida on the blog. There truly need to be some changes made. I hope the right person wins the Governor’s race because the anxiety level so high there. It’s a tense situation. It’s beautiful there but most families struggle to make ends meet. And the racism….SMH

Well, my lunch break is over. Let me get back to work before I get a screenshot of something i’m not doing…I think I can take time tonight to blog about South Florida’s housing crisis.

Continue reading “3 Working Days Left”

Music in Me

I love music.  No. Really! I LOVE MUSIC. Anytype of music (lol). Well, except heavy metal. Well, maybe not ALL heavy metal. I guess the point is…Well, I guess you’ve figured it out. I love music.

Music seems to encompass me, engulf me, fill me up then jet out of the top of my head. Spraying all around me in a beautiful rainbow of colored crystals, that shatter as they hit the ground in magnificent, melodic sync, encompassing me, engulfing me, filling me up all over again.

I love music so much I branded and operate my own internet streaming radio station. I’m not bragging because it truly is a labor of love. It started as a Friday night get together for me and some of my facebook friends on Blog Talk Radio. I would upload some of my collection of classic soul music and play the songs on air while we all gathered in the chatroom and revealed in sharing memories the songs evoked.


Those were good times. Easy times. Until I found out you couldn’t play copyrighted music using that website. And, I was at risk of being sued or heavily fined. So, I found another site. Then the licensing for internet streaming radio took effect and I had to find yet a licensed server to broadcast on. The list of speed  bumps grew as my listening audience increased and the weekly format became a 24 hour a day internet streaming radio station. With less and less revealing in our special group going on and more individual listening sporadically became the norm.

My enjoyment of this special time with my friends turned into my estudious search for quality equipment, daily and weekly programing, searching for and finding talk show hosts, musical genre specific dj’s, mobile apps, branded website, making sure the broadcast clarity was perfect and adeptly licensed with the ever changing rules and all the real headaches of actually running a business in the red. Playtime was over. I wasn’t having much fun anymore. Running the station was work, and that was after I had worked a 9 to 5.  And, all my music loving friends began to give way to an international listening audience who didn’t care to interact with each other. They just wanted to hear good music.

But, I love music. So, I am the owner of an internet streaming radio station. I even started my own weekly talk show. “Let’s Talk Music with The1Essence”.  Where I would interview artist who had an new CD to promote or just wanted some “extra” exposure.  Now, THAT was amazing. I have interviewed STARS! People I would have never thought  of having a simple conversation with. My most exciting being R&B artist Glenn Jones!

I had a serious crush on him growing up! while everyone was still crushing on Michael Jackson I was listening to “grown folks” music. Glen Jones was IT for me!  I may not have known what the song meant as a teenager but as I played the cassette tape over and over again, I knew I was ready for someone  to “Show Me” what they had to do! Wheeew! I still get chills in unmentionable places when I hear that song. My co-host RM Green and I barely made it through that interview….

The most memorable one was the Performer Exquisite, Melba Moore. She was so elegant and graceful and wise. I learned a lot about the hard work those we admired so much in the music industry endure. It ain’t always pretty but it’s worth it!

But soon, even interviewing my most beloved Artists became a chore. I moved to South Florida and my entire world changed. Working my 9 to 5 was rough! And rough is definitely an understatement. So I stopped doing the weekly show. My bills didn’t pay themselves and I was still footing the bill for the station in it’s entirety so, work came first. The station went on but the show stopped. I am looking forward to hosting shows again after my retirement though.

I wish it was more of a cozy friendly environment again. I wish all those music loving FaceBook friends could get together again and chat it up over days gone by, giving new life to music seemingly tossed aside. Still the station plays on. The international audience is still growing. People are still listening. And, I still love music.

It evokes the most precious of  memories, motivates me, soothes me, swallows me whole.

It seems to encompass me, engulf me, fill me up then jet out of the top of my head. Spraying all around me in a beautiful rainbow of colored crystals, that shatter as they hit the ground in magnificent, melodic sync, encompassing me, engulfing me, filling me up all over again.

So, now I don’t just listen to it and play it on the station,  I occasionally write about it……Just don’t ask me to sing ((smile)).