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I am from country roads, Crisco and my grandfather’s violin. From the shadow on the wall. The smell of wood and rain. Grape crape myrtles, rhododendrons and muddy water.
I am from Sunday afternoons and farmers. From Sullie, Virgie and Boo. The storytellers and the hand wavers. The hush and the holler.
I am from tent arbors and cathedrals. ‘Down by the river’ and myrrh.
From Rock, West Virginia. Mountaineers and Miners. Dumplings and beans.
I am from Pa – who saw the mountain fall. From my brother – and a broken neck.
I am from my grandmother’s wardrobe. A book of gold and red. Of were and is and….
Don’t forget.
Buffy Holt
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Love this exercise. I did this in a creative writing class back in the day. Love the “book of gold and red.”
Comment by kerri 04.27.06 @ 18:14what’s the exercise about? looks interesting, and i want to try it! i love your blog! ~Jodi
Comment by Jodi 04.27.06 @ 18:25This is gorgeous and I love it to bits and pieces. What type of excercise is it?
Comment by Bre 04.27.06 @ 20:37You write very well. I’m glad you happened to stop by so that I was able to find my way here. Nice work.
Comment by Battlerocker 04.27.06 @ 20:58Outside of the exercise, no. Dont forget. Keep writing it down. Elaborate for us.
Ken
Beautiful! I did this exercise too, I recommend it to all because it really brings your life in focus.
Comment by Barbara 04.28.06 @ 1:12You are so smart! I LOVE YOU!
Comment by Steph 04.28.06 @ 14:07This is a great exercise and I am sure it lead you to more. Hope you choose to share. I can’t say that I relate. If I were to do this exercise it would be all about cul de sacs and processed foods. So nice to get to know you.
Comment by Lynn 04.28.06 @ 15:36very nice..
thanks for stopping by, I hope to see you again..
Comment by bossy britches 04.28.06 @ 22:14Buffy, My brother-in-law is from WVga, so I’ve heard his stories, the’re good.
But, your post stopped me in my tracks and put muscle on the bones. You are a fabulously talented writer,and person altogether, thank you for writing!!
I did this one a while back. It brought such sweet memories to mind, things that I’d forgotten.
Comment by Junebugg 04.29.06 @ 7:01I love that writing exercise…it’s fun and it brings back so many memories!
Comment by nongirlfriend 04.29.06 @ 21:53After reading your kind comment on my own blog, I had to come have a look at yours. You are an awesome writer! I am definitely a fan already.
Comment by windblownbutterfly 04.30.06 @ 2:36I am of Sunday mornings and azaleas, I think.
What a thought-provoking writing exercise. Beautiful as always, Buffy.
Love your style. Love your pages. I will make a more visits. I promise.
Comment by Kay Richardson 04.30.06 @ 19:59I love these poems. They are so wonderful to read and wonderful to write.
Comment by Barbara 05.01.06 @ 3:09I liked this, too!
I’m taking a poetry writing class — my very first one. I might try this exercise to loosen me up.
By the way, thanks for commenting on my blog recently.
I too, am from West Virginia. Born in Wheeling.
See, great things come from WVA.
Comment by Dawn 05.06.06 @ 3:15National Geographic, September, 1978 – My grandfather the New Mexican fiddle player.
Dusty mountain roads of the New Mexico mountains, bacon fat, hay fields and a land that time forgot.
Comment by sugarfoot 07.04.06 @ 3:05Thanks for stopping by my blog. How did you stumble upon me? The West Virginia thing?
Comment by Trisha 07.29.06 @ 6:45Wow, you dropped all your sh-t and took off for England to just write all day. Serious. Envy. And very inspiring. Good luck to you.
Comment by thehoneymoonisover 08.04.06 @ 16:02i’m so glad you left a comment on my blog and i was able to find yours. i haven’t written in so long and since i’m living in a new country with not much to do i’ve been trying to get back into writting again. your blog is great. i really like your writting style. it’s motivating me to write more. thanks!!
Comment by Defensive_twat 08.11.06 @ 12:15Now, how could I forget about the crick!!! Or is it cric? Or crik? I can never remember.
Comment by Buffy 09.18.06 @ 18:31Damn you, Buffy. Why’d you have to stop by my blog? I looked and I’m hooked. (Sorry). AAARRRGG!
Comment by Emily 09.20.06 @ 16:12I enjoyed your poem. Thank you. I posted one, too, about a year ago. Link below. Now I’m about to teach the idea to senior citizens in an assisted living community. I’m looking forward to that.
http://writingfromthehip.blogspot.com/2006/02/adventures-where-im-from.html
Comment by Paul N. 01.09.07 @ 12:49I have done this exercise more than once, but did it this morning again; it’s rather healing, I believe. Then I googled “where I’m from” and looked at what a few others have done with it.
http://donna-justme.blogspot.com/2007/01/where-im-from.html
This comment will probably get lost in the shuffle, since this is an older entry of yours.
Comment by Donna 01.25.07 @ 20:42Just found this and loved it!!! Made my own attempt here:
http://scribblesbyhanulf.blogspot.com/2007/02/where-im-from.html
I too, found lots of others who have done this – it makes for beautiful reading.
Comment by hanulf 02.19.07 @ 21:43I’m from the hollers with steep inclines, where folk lore remains wandering aimlessly lost and faded with time. Where two little girls played, dreamed and grew, one brunette the other blonde like you. Where everyone feared the woman in white, where we whispered and peaked out our window on star lit nights, wanting to see her and scared with fright that we might. Others had seen her and lived to tell….of the lonely woman, in white who walks the trail. No one knows where she’s going or where she’s been. If she walked the hills searching or repenting from some mortal sin. We’re grown today with families of our own, and yet on starry nights when we hear the song of the whipperwill, we wonder back down the dusty lanes of time and wonder…..Will we see her tonight, do you think we will?
Comment by debbie 07.07.08 @ 14:52Great! Loads of talent. Brings back the “Good Ole’ Days”. Of creeks trickling, robins singing, the smell of honeysuckle sweet, and on a quiet night you can almost hear the moon rise over the blueridge mountains. Thanks for the memories. Tell Debbie The woman in white is lost and wants to go go home, taken form this world too soon. She does not understand it it time to go on. And by the way some kids pee on you when you spend the night with them
Thanks for the visit. I like creating things and those present cakes were in my head and had to come out – perfect or not.
Your writing seems to be very open and really about your thoughts. My story is similar but different from yours. I am from Iowa, met a man in Europe who was from West Virginia, so we came here to live. It has been an experience.
I love to travel and have seen most of the states, most of Europe, and am hoping to visit the rest of the world. I work with people who do not understand leaving their neighborhood and dwell on the local history as if it were important to the rest of the world. They ask why I want to travel. I ask why they don’t. But then knowing enough about Rock and Iaeger and the places in between I expect you have had the same conversations. Good Luck out there!
Buffy, I did not know you very well in high school due to different grades. But I love your blog and it sounds like you have had great adventures in your life. Writing is not my best quality. I learned that while working on my masters degree and will continue to work on that with my PhD. I wish you well and will continue to visit your log.
Comment by Michelle Phillips Whittaker 05.18.10 @ 21:39Leave a comment
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