Burp- Day..

Gotta take a moment to perhaps recognize this day... um, yes... it is my birthday... Happy Birthday to me. I've been enjoying it since last week and looking forward to more interesting moments, journeys, revelations and good times. Looking forward to some gallery showings for the photography and a new book... and praying for simple good living...

Downtown Dreams

Downtown looks the same everywhere. The hopes imagined so beautifully at one point in life fade away and become distant memories, filed in the back of ones mind as what could've been. Folks every possession is carried with them. The search for shelter a daily struggle. How does one dream at night or maintain the innocence of how you viewed the world around and above. At night, I still dream of beautiful things to come while looking up at the stars especially on a warm night in the country or a cool night on the beach. I can't imagine feeling that same way laying on the pavement. Looking up at the stars, I would pray and probably beat myself up through reminiscing about how it became like this. It would be hard to dream and hard to believe in a better me. But if I still possessed my same hopeful innocent view I'd believe that there's gotta be a better way somehow, someway...

A few days ago I was looking out my front door at the neighbors pink house across the street. Now I'm sitting on a front porch in east Texas looking out into a field at a scarecrow. The differences between here and where I live and work every day always get to me. The weekend before last I'm sitting at a Starbucks watching loud motorcycles ride by and in between the noise I'm hearing conversations about big bootie women, the presidential election and how the Lakers can possibly go all the way to win a championship. Earlier today I was at Walmart. I overheard two men talking about tractors and how they were thinking about traveling to the next town to pick up some beer because this town didn't sell alcohol. A "dry town" as they referred to it. The differences makes me smile. I was stepping over drunks and smelling liquor everywhere not too long ago at a gathering in LA. Big difference here, though there's some craziness going out this way too.

Adjusting to the slow pace in the country always takes me a few days. One thing that I love instantly is when I hear the voices of my southern family, especially the sweet sound of an elderly woman's voice that greeted me yesterday. This voice belonged to someone who knew me as a kid but I only knew of her and couldn't really recollect how she looked. I've heard so many stories about cousin Palestine. She's the grand daughter of one of my great grandfather's brothers. Last time I was here everyone kept telling me to take advantage of her still being around.

They were like "you need to sit with Palestine and just listen to her. She'll have you sitting there thinking you watching a movie 'cause her stories be so vivid. The best part is that she's telling you about folks that is kin to you. That's when you start to smiling and can't control yourself."

I haven't heard detailed stories from her yet but I have enjoyed the compliments and feeling loved because she keeps trying to see if I've got something to eat. She promised to bake me one of her infamous pound cakes made from scratch and using some extra rich butter that she churned herself.

Palestine said to me "I still does that kind of stuff! Now don't get me wrong, I love an occasional trip to Taco Bell and even Walmart's bakery make some nice desserts but ain't nothing like homemade cooking. And the way we do it here in the country is a lost art form. You need to come down more often and get you some of this here..."

I didn't get to visit with Palestine too long but the lingering presence of her spirit is still with me now. I had to take care of some personal matters and pay my respects to family no longer here. I even said hello to a few cousins that run some illegal activity deep in the woods and by the looks of it, they making way too much money. They're egos are as big as the wheels on the cars. Times have changed from the days when I remember them being young and occasionally fighting pitbulls in the field. Life has changed in many ways but despite that, simply being in the country is a much needed escape from city life...

Special Thanks...

Special thanks to "LP" for showing me that there's still magic out there...

Easter Weekend

Easter weekend had it's moments. I have to send out special prayers to my aunt Tamer who is in the hospital battling acute pancreatis and dealing with a lot of pain in the process. I pray she has a very speedy recovery. It's rough seeing time bring with it illnesses and tough times for family members. Time marches on and that ain't always a good thing when things like this happen. Nevertheless, time does move... It was kind of hot out here in southern Cali over the weekend. I enjoyed it with capturing some cool moments photographically and checking out that Meet The Browns movie. It was alright. Kind of predictable for me but it was funny too. I especially enjoyed seeing the beautiful Angela Bassett; one of my favorite actresses of all time. The movie also had me yearning for a healthy dose of country life. I love the country and my southern spirit is aching for me to return. The movie brought back memories of family. It reminded me of good times back a few years ago when things were real good in east Texas. Like when my grandmother was still alive and when on one day I'd go from enjoying time with her to taking a drive down the road about fifteen minutes away to visit with cousin's George, Maggie, Big Mama, Peaches, Apple(they're sisters), Ruby, her boys and everybody else around there. They fed me good and told me stories about family past and present. We'd sit under the "crying tree," which was a tree that always has water dripping from it's leaves. They laughed at me when I kept checking my head and shoulders for bird droppings. I was like "what the?" Anyway, seeing those country folks in Tyler Perry's latest definitely brought back those kind of special memories. Good times that no longer exist in east Texas because people have grown in other directions and doing things they shouldn't do. Meet The Browns also brought back memories of that aching feeling inside your stomach when you're blown away by the potential of somebody. Blown away by what you imagine life with them could be. Mesmerized by the thought of just being near them. Sometimes I wonder if women feel that way too or is it just the certain fellas who dream a little bit too much and got way too much gullible qualities within them. Rick Fox played that sort of mesmerizing part very well and it was a good happy ending to the story as well as a strong message about fatherhood... I'd like to see a little more of Madea hopefully in the next Tyler Perry movie. All in all, it was a decent weekend...

I wasn't born like this, yet I became like this. They say everyone has a chance; an equal opportunity for success. What are my chances now? Every second feels like a step closer to no longer existing. I fear the pain, the suffering; yet I imagine the peace. Would I be missed? Would they say, whatever happened to and think of me with fondness? Everything I own, I carry with me. All of who I am has been taken from me. The streets haven't been kind; the ugliness easier to deal with when something else controls my mind. Sometimes another day for me feels like torture. I exist; I'm here but am I really surviving? Somehow this has become my world; small like me in the eyes of others. A nobody in the eyes of most...

Playing With The Barriers

I had a conversation with two ladies. One of them I complimented. Both of them laughed. They brushed aside my compliment as yet another man's attempt at trying to get something. They both had that familiar smirk like tightening of the lips, followed by an audible sound that could only be translated as "don't even go there..." I continued to "go there" because I was sincere. I didn't want anything but conversation. My compliment was simple, yet I meant it with sincerity. After that, I decided to challenge the flow, so to speak. I mean, they didn't seem like they wouldn't be receptive to me asking questions or making comments.

"Seems to me like a woman whose been hurt doesn't always receive compliments too well or perhaps doesn't trust one coming from a man" I said.

They both looked at each other. Then they looked at me. They told me they agreed with that statement but believed that men were the same way.

"Nah, we'll still believe anything you tell us regardless of if we been hurt. Shoot, compliments feel good and when a man is down, he needs a pick me up. Words can deliver that feeling..."

One of the ladies laughed at me and said "typical man..." The other told me that I was just trying to impress. I ducked under her sarcasm and countered with another compliment. I loved how she was rockin the bangles on her wrist and the large earrings. Her accessories had a little afrocentric/70's vibe going on. I've been taking notes on that sort of look recently because I'm doing a photoshoot with this model who plans to wear a lot of that for each shot.

The lady who I hadn't complimented asked me a question. She said "so, if I told you you were a good looking man, umph! Would you believe me?"

"Nope."

They both chimed in "why not?"

"Because at this point I'd be thinking you're just playing with me. If you approached me out of the blue and said it, I might believe you. I would then think that the motivation to say it was purely your idea and not just you saying it because of what we been talking about. When I complimented your friend, I think you knew I was being real because of the way I said it. It was like a surprise to me. The light hit her just right and in that moment, I was like damn... the compliment was necessary; completely motivated by some serious energy going on..."

"He's too much for me..." The complimented one blushed and then said "shut-up Anthony."

I wanted to speak to her on a personal level. I chose to read words on a page, camouflaged as something I'd written long ago. I couldn't make eye contact with her but my voice was solid; every word connected despite all that surrounded us; the foot traffic, and the voices in the distance. She leaned in closer. She wanted to see the words too, as I read them. Funny thing though, not every word was on the page. She searched for them herself. She smiled. I knew because by then, her face was close enough for me to feel the rise in her left cheek. "Liar," she whispered. "I gotta watch out for you quiet guys..." "You don't see what I'm saying?" I asked her. She paused for a moment. We made eye contact. She said, "I do now..."

Where My Elders At?

Ahh...today I saw and witnessed this beautiful lady. I'd seen her briefly once before about four months ago in a similar situation. There she was dancing to the beat of african drums; moving her body to the rhythm. When she dances, she celebrates. She blew me away the first time I'd seen her but I never thought it would happen again; me seeing her- though I imagined it. Then as I'm checking out the scene and enjoying the rhythms myself, there she is, dancing in the circle and blowing me away all over again... I snapped a few shots of her. She noticed me. She glanced at me, glanced away, glanced back again... A hint of a smile.. It was like that old game of stealing looks but not making it obvious that we're looking directly at each other. I felt like Kunte Kente, hoping an elder or two would step to me and ask "are you making eyes at her?" And I'd gladly say yes, hoping the elders could hook me up... Ha haa...but, reality steps in. Ain't no elders around though someone in front of me did say to their friend "I think she's lookin at this tall guy.." and then it appeared she had to go. A female friend of hers seemed anxious to leave. The beautiful lady exited the circle from the opposite side of where I stood. As the two walk away together, I tried to make my way to the other side but I'm too late... I tried to follow but I'm too far... Maybe another time, another place, another chance... If not, it's okay. I enjoyed the moment, the stolen glances, the beautiful smiles... the possibilities... the inspiration.

Take good care, he said...

A writer, a dreamer... hoping that his love for words finds its way into the hearts of others. Dreaming that his expressions based upon experience change what has become his life. Praying that each mis-step were simply lessons that will point him in the direction of success. Believing that no matter how dark the days, there's still hope?

Sadness & Beauty

Saturday was a sort of breezy cool day for me, metaphorically speaking; not so much weather-wise. It rained off and on throughout the day but I still had to get out for a little while. After I traveled to my first destination, I couldn't resist going inside this huge cemetery nearby. I'd always been curious to look inside. I have friends and family of friends buried there. I walked around, took a few pictures of statues and a beautiful water fountain. Then I came upon this headstone with a really nice picture. Seems like a lot more headstones have pictures nowadays. This one caught my attention because for one I could see that this woman left the world much too soon and not only was it a great picture but she looks so happy. I read the headstone, which paid tribute to her as a daughter, a wife, and a mother. The flowers lying on top were all wilted and pretty much gone. I saw a deflated heart shaped balloon close by. Perhaps it was brought by this woman's family or maybe even the husband placed it there for Valentines Day. I imagined him being heartbroken and missing his lady; missing all the great times they shared and all the dreams they'd hoped to live for and share together... As a couple they were one and now he must carry on without her. Life is precious and so is love. Even if what you embrace are memories and the spirit of someone passed on, that love remains very special and very crucial to your life as you continue on... It began to rain as I took one last shot of this woman's headstone and in a short distance away, someone else was being put to rest... More love passing on yet hopefully never forgotten...

Cool Image Weekend...

This was a good weekend, photographically speaking.. I took this great shot of a woman dancing her heart out. She was into her every movement. She had fun. She blessed the drum circle that she danced inside of, along with a few other ladies... I also enjoyed the presence of a buddy of mine as we discussed something happening before our eyes in the distance. It was a display of jealousy by a man who seemed to quietly object to his girlfriend wanting to dance and bless the circle as well. It was pretty sad because she was wasting all this great energy and joy outside of the circle. He was diffusing her beautiful spirit and denying her from shining. He should've encouraged and pushed her forward considering the direction she so eagerly wanted to go was a very positive one. Luckily the positivity won out and once she stepped inside the circle, it was a beautiful union of rhythms and joy. The man stood with a sour look on his face, which eventually gave way to recognition. Someone felt his negative vibe and offered that he contribute by taking that energy out on a drum. He did and positivity prevailed all around... My buddy and I agreed that because this man changed his tune, so to speak, tonight he'll probably get some extra good lovin and more than that, he and his lady shared in something that they can talk and laugh about later... To me, that's what it's all about if you have someone special. Experience moments together and build upon it. Create new memories together and turn them into special traditions that you look forward to doing again and again... I hope that man learned something from today's experience... I know I had a blast just being a part of the whole vibe.

Happy Valentines Day/Week..

Here's a little something to aspire to... Love... mixed with mutual pride. The world may be the stage but what's most important is that they have each other... The same can be practiced on the local level... meaning, everybody can have this... I wish everyone the best kind of love, however you may dream it to be...

Change Don't Happen Much

Five minutes away from where this beautiful creation(Watts Towers) was erected and preserved over the years for all to see and experience, there was another tradition going down that unfortunately serves as a reminder on how not much has changed. the trading of lives; bullet for a bullet mentality continues. There were hundreds gathered in a cemetery, celebrating the life of a fallen loved one. They mourned, they cried, they looked angry... A great number of them were dressed in white t-shirts. A lot of bravado. Young men standing tall with their chests stuck out. Most fighting back tears. The fallen one had many friends and the amount of cars that lined the street leading into the cemetery stretched a very long distance on both sides of the street. And on every corner in the vicinity there were police officers parked; waiting for any trouble that might occur. With the exception of the anger, sadness and tension that filled the hearts of those saying their final goodbyes, peace prevailed but all one has to do is listen to the news, read the paper, and decipher the writing on the walls. You'll discover that change don't happen much despite this country's possibility that something historic is on the verge of becoming reality... maybe. Sometimes hope ain't always the most convincing argument and love is often used as motivation for battle rather than healing, coming together and building a stronger bridge that connects understanding and compassion in a way that doesn't blow over so easily... Folks gotta get it together because what goes on in the hood aint a priority for the White House or the Governor's Mansion, no matter who's in it...

Black History kick-off..

February is here and it brings with it the so-called “Black History” celebration time, which is definitely important and a beautiful thing. Me being black, I like to think I celebrate it every day, every month but since this is the official time of the year, I want to kick things off with my own celebration and tribute. I’m hoping one of these years I’ll be able to celebrate with the relase of my much delayed epic novel, Until Again which should’ve been out this month but nevertheless, its on the way.. *smile* Be that as it may and without further delay, I want to honor someone who to me is worthy of a black history tribute/celebration trophy for his accomplishments and for representing himself as a multi-faceted black man. Perhaps he’s not famous to the average Joe and Jenny on the street but he’s known by friends and family. He’s known by teachers, scholars, and students. He’s known in the hood, the country, and the classrooms. He’s blessed by his two beautiful children, which he plays an extremely active role in raising them. No doubt his son and daugther will be amazing individuals when they grow up. I’ve admired this dude since the day we met on his home turf in Memphis, Tennessee so I write this little tribute with a smile on my face. His name is Torrance Stephens.

You ever meet someone in life that instantly reminds you of family? You ever meet someone who you just want to sit and listen to because you instantly respect that person? You ever meet someone who no matter their age, you feel like this is someone to look up to like an older sibling? You ever meet someone who is so cool and down to earth, you wish them nothing but happiness and success no matter how much time passes before you see them again? Thanks to the internet, I can check on what’s going on in the prolific mind of this brotha because he’s probably got the best blog (http://rawdawgb.blogspot.com/) in the internet hemisphere… You’re always sure to learn something, be inspired, forced to think, and entertained all at the same time. I always imagined that if you peel open this man’s mind and stretched out every thought and piece of knowledge inside, it would probably wrap around planet earth several times. He’s got the street intelligence, the country boy work ethic and the intellectual scholar ingredients that would make anyone envious but he’d never have you feeling that way because he’s cool like that. My admiration is endless. I mean, my man Torrance has traveled to other countries to speak to folks on behavioral sciences and health education, written countless articles and chapters on some very serious issues like AIDS/HIV and other infectious diseases but he's still a country boy and a father which means you'll find him coaching his son in life and athletics all the while finding time to eat some stew that's got ingredients like pork, possum, rabbit and squirrel in the mix. *smile* Besides all that, he's also an author of some very deep stories like "Fast And Gamin," "Butter Brown," "For U Who Left Me While I Slept," "Matter Of Attention," and "Rockstar, Stud, Gigolo." What? A scholar writing books with titles like that? Yeah, 'cause he's cool like that so dig beneath the titles and see what he's talking about. You can check those out at www.BBOTW.com Here's a quote that shines a little light on the man as an author....

"In the tradition of Iceberg Slim, his work carries the immediacy of corner stoop storytelling but is that rare creation--African American oral tradition in a literary form." LISA RICHARDSON- LOS ANGELES TIMES

Anyway, I wanna send a sincere shout-out to Torrance Stephens PhD, rawdawg buffalo as I kick-off Black History month on Super Bowl Sunday to salute this good dude... Peace and continued blessings...

From the chronicles of why it gotta be like this!

Today, I was listening to an interview on a hip hop station. It was interesting in all kinds of ways... Informative? Nah... and I definitely aint trying to put down hip hop in any kind of way but I just found today's interview of Prodigy from Mobb Deep interesting. It had me wondering what folks will remember about the music and the artists from the genre, twenty years from now. No doubt, there's some great history in hip hop but the way they were talking on the radio today the only history they celebrated was violence rather than the...MUSIC. Prodigy talked about being able to afford a bullet proof car. He spoke about various beefs aka disagreements he had with other rappers that would lead to violence if he had run into that person. The interviewer brought up questions about Tupac's ability to fight because of things she's heard, which really doesn't matter.. Around every corner there's someone who could get the best of you in a fight and vice verse, but my main point is, what does that have to do with the music??? Me being a huge fan of Tupac, I didn’t really appreciate the comments made about him but everybody got their own perspective. The interviewer to me sounded like she was motivated by the very same hearsay and unnecessary bravado which fueled the kind of environment that brought down such a prolific artist. He had his issues and was at times a victim of his own young ego but he was an amazing artist, a brilliant mind, very well read, and was extremely driven, albeit the motivation could’ve been because he feared the end was coming soon but he was able to accomplish a lot in a short time. Funny thing though, in the four or five times I’d seen him around LA, when he was driving he was alone and had the top down on his convertible. When I saw him hanging out at the Glam Slam niteclub many years ago in downtown LA, he was alone. But the bottomline with respect to how I’d like to remember him most is by his contribution, which was music and film. There's some incredible hip hop musical moments and great artists that have come and gone and that's what should be talked about/celebrated.

As I listened to the interview, it made me think about a conversation I had not too long ago with a friend of mine. We talked about music and brought up memories that had us both smiling and feeling the goose bumps all over. This fella is older than me so he could recall a little more than I could, from Miles to Hendrix on forward but then I brought up Parliament/Funkadelic and he laughed in a proud way... "Ahh yes, the mothership!" I told him about how as a kid, I got into a few of those Parliament shows for free because my father promoted some of the concerts in Houston along with a couple buddies of his.
He asked me "what year was that?"
"Around 77, 78, 79..."
"Ahh okay, then you got to see them in they prime. Eddie Hazel, Hampton, Glenn and of course George was on top of his game then..."
"Yeah, I even saw them that year when they had that funny lookin dude from the Spinners singing with them.."
"Phillpe Wynne... yeah, okay... You seen some music history back then, man."
"Yeah, but I didn't know it at the time, being so young. I would just be lookin at how crazy everybody was dressed!"

The conversation continued on to other musical groups and artists that became legends and/or well respected musicians, singers, performers but the thing is, all we talked about were these artists contributions to music. We didn't need to go into who shot who, who had beef with who, etc etc. Of course there's always been a shady side to the music industry and there are stories that go way way back; tragedies, early loss of life but music folks from back in the day wear a badge of honor that reflects what they accomplished musically... Think about Curtis Mayfield and all the incredible songs he wrote for others and himself... Isaac Hayes and his amazing body of work... Barry White, Earth Wind & Fire, Aretha, Minnie Riperton, Marvin Gaye, Donny Hathaway, Stevie Wonder, the list goes on and on forever and again, despite whatever tragedies and behind the scenes drama that might have occurred, it's all about the music.. I dont think any of those folks still living or no longer around are thinking to themselves, "I wish I would've bought a bullet proof car..." Just my two cents as I wonder why stuff has come to be the way it is or as I said, why it gotta be like this! *smile* Anyway, peep out Parliament live from the Houston Summit Arena. I was there backstage representin with my father and company...

Cali Surf's Up!

Here's a little video showcasing recent shots taken of and inspired by the many surfers that I've run into on the Southern California coastal areas... You can't help but capture the moments...

Days Like This I Miss (what happened?)

My father used to talk a lot about this one mechanic that he knew. It was this man named Chet who owned an auto shop down on Venice and Western Blvd a long long time ago. Chet was the most honest man you'd ever want to meet. He worked hard every day and took care of your car as if you were trusting him with your life. Your satisfaction is what motivated him and your paying for a job well done was a blessing. Chet would always say "no problem, just leave the car and I'll have it done." My father's fondest memory of Chet was that this man would never take money from my mother. He'd basically fix the car perfectly, have it all tuned up and cleaned up but would wait until my father came around to pay him. He wouldn't worry. He was a man driven by honesty and wanting to be appreciated for not only that honesty but for his quality work. He didn't even have to preface his actions by saying "you have my word, it'll get done." In today's world, people say those words all the time and then you have to keep calling and asking them when will it get done. People today seem to lean on the shoulders of excuses. They embrace laziness. They don't care. A lie feels more natural. The truth is abnormal. Chet was a good man, did incredible work but times changed and finding a person like him is rare... Your word is your most valuable, transportable possession. You carry it everywhere you go. You wear it like a badge of honor, connected inside, hanging from your heart and soul. It shines when a soul is true. You can see it reflected in the eyes of others. Have someone ask others that know you, what their impression is of you. I hope they come back with more than just you looked good, made money or had nice things...

R.I.P.

Rest in peace to 2007; one of the worst years of my life(not all bad) but also probably the single most powerful lesson that I will ever live/experience. I leave this year in the past but I’m amazed at what I had to endure. It will affect me for a long time and has changed my outlook on many things; underline trust. The way I used to trust must change. And as I attempt to repair the damage done, I have to go on and return to simply living again. There’s a certain someone out there with false assumptions. She believes that all was resolved back in July concerning a bad decision I made. It wasn’t and may never be but I'm surviving... I had to take that chance regardless of how it looked or what I might lose. Sometimes you gotta do something for yourself... "do for you, for once" as a few people have said to me recently.

The last seven months have been the most significant part of this lesson. I’ve had to endure losing my freedom to live the way I was always accustomed to. I’ve had to struggle like never before. Every day, week after week I've had to deal with trying to get back what I’d lost due to a very bad decision that was motivated by love and also by what sounded like an easy way to obtain something that’s better to achieve through hard work and perseverance. I also lost a great deal of my own self respect; feeling trapped every day inside of a nightmare that I had no control over. I allowed someone to steal my joy and almost destroy my spirit. I felt like a slave or a prisoner waiting for freedom and during this time the calls of misguided assumption kept on coming. In a strange way, those calls gave me strength. They validated my decision to walk away despite wishing that things could've been different. I wish that it could've all turned into the beautiful dream that I imagined from the start but for whatever reason this was one puzzle in life that no piece could fit. I had to make a decision for me. I wouldn’t have been able to survive these past seven months if I didn’t make that decision.

As the holidays approached, things got worse. Keeping my spirits up and believing that an end to this craziness would come soon began to wear me down. I tried to find motivation by planning a special trip. The only thing that really gave me some degree of excitement was the fact that all aspects of my creativity were improving. I guess when you feel in a sense, imprisoned; you find other ways of escape. You turn up the notch with respect to reading more, writing, and in my case you can add to that, music and photography as well. All of those things gave me a sense of pride and kept me holding on. The holidays were nothing to me. They came and went like regular days. I felt nothing but the worry of my mother who continued to watch me struggle. I had one night of escape when I went to see Denzel Washington’s “The Great Debaters.” That put me in the mindset of east Texas where my family comes from on my father’s side. That made me think of all the fun, the inspiration and beautiful connections to the past that I’ve enjoyed in previous years. But, as I exited the theatre, walked down the escalator and headed to my car, I truly hated how I felt as that feeling of escape inside of the movie theatre quickly wore off. I had to return to my own life and the darkness of feeling so disappointed in myself that I hated to see the next day arrive...

In the last few days I've had to reach down and pull myself up. I've been writing like crazy working on a few stories. I've re-written and edited my most powerful novel, Until Again and half done with the sequel to my last book, My Life Is All I Have, which ironically was about life decisions. I'm down but not out... I don't believe I deserve what has happened but it happened. Somehow, I'll get back what I've lost ten times over... I accomplished something at the beginning of 2007 that I must now say goodbye to. It hurts my heart but one day even this loss will be ten times less than what I believe I can accomplish.

A couple of people have sent me quotes that they live by and refer to whenever feeling down. As I say rest in peace to 2007 and look ahead to rebuilding my life, I leave you with these two quotes...

"No weapon formed against me shall prosper..."

and

"It's not the load that breaks you down, it's the way you carry it..."

I wish everyone much happiness, joy, and what I hope to find.... peace..