Went to the Arcata Marsh yesterday
The Circus Girls. Florida, 1949 © Nina Leen
I visited the Chateau Elan winery today in Braselton, Georgia (50 miles outside of Atlanta) and saw my first vineyards up close. The grounds were picturesque perfect on a brightly accomodating day. The grapes were hiding between the foliage on the vines and I was tempted to snatch one off to savor. I will follow this with other photos from the trip. I hope you enjoy!
Photo credit: Lush Lady
(the 100th!) girls fighting evil: southern gothic witches
a witch ought never to be frightened in the darkest forest… she should be sure in her soul that the most terrifying thing in the forest was her.
-wintersmith, terry pratchett
(the brother and sister don’t know where else to go. the demons have come for them, and they need help. so they go to the little house with the bird in the window, the house of the swamp witches. they have twigs in their hair and blood on their hands, but they are kind to the children. when the demons following the children reach the house with the bird in the window, the swamp witches pull the demons down to the hell under the water.)
Southern Gothic is a subgenre of Gothic fiction unique to American literature that takes place exclusively in the American South (intro post here). Common themes in Southern Gothic literature include:
- deeply flawed, disturbing or eccentric characters who may or may not dabble in hoodoo
- decayed or derelict settings
- grotesque situations
God’s Gonna Cut You Down || A southern gothic mix
The Lord’s gonna come for your first born son
His hair’s on fire and his heart is burning
So go to the river where the water runs
Wash him deep where the tides are turning
This isn’t no land of comfort. The earth is tired, and she heaves her rattling breaths through the dry grass. Dust hangs like a shroud on your shoulders and settles on the scuff of your shoes. Here, there’s religion in the cracked pages of Scripture and in the rim of a whiskey bottle. Our father who art in Heaven, He’s got a harsh heart. There’s bad blood in the bible; sins are not forgiven here, they are only absolved once the dues are paid. Here, grizzled men exhale their souls in cigarette smoke as they idle on the porch. Their venom is inside of slow smiles, as smooth as molasses. Here, women are sunken-eyed; they’ve got cleavers tied to their apron strings, vengeful and weary, faces hewn out of scrap iron. Nothing really lives here. The hoot owl whistles in the old cemeteries by dusk, but the real burial grounds are elsewhere- men find their graves at the bottom of the river, at the deepest hour of night. May they rest in sin indeed.
Don’t you lift him, let him drown alive
The good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder
Let that fever make the water rise
And let the river run dry
- Blood On My Name- The Wright Brothers
- Grounds For Divorce- Elbow
- David- Noah Gundersen
- Maneater- Blue-Eyed Blondes
- Bottom Of The River- Delta Rae
- Bartholomew- The Silent Comedy
- Nothing But The Water, Pt. 1- Grace Potter & the Nocturnals
- Rolling In On A Burning Tire- The Dead Weather
- 99 Problems (Jay-Z Cover)- Hugo
- Beat The Devil’s Tattoo- Black Rebel Motorcyle Club
- God’s Gonna Cut You Down- Johnny Cash
- Raise Hell- Brandi Carlisle
- Chop and Change- The Black Keys
- Awake O Sleeper- The Brothers Bright
"Let no man bring me harm, I bear the marks of Jesus."
You noticed it—the way that they slowly stopped texting you in the middle of the night or how they suddenly started speaking to you in a manner that no longer made you feel special.. and that was the moment you began to question the relationship that never was.
That was also the moment that you knew it wasn’t going to last, but you tried to make it work, didn’t you? You called yourself paranoid for thinking such thoughts, but there was a nagging feeling in your head telling you otherwise. You don’t know what it was that happened, you don’t know if it was your fault that you lost someone so wonderful, but you were left to watch as they slipped from between your fingers and there was nothing that you could do about it.
Suddenly they became a different person—it was almost as if their sweet words had become sweet nothings. You tried convincing yourself that that’s not how they really were, yet that’s their true persona. Maybe you ignored it in the beginning, maybe your mind made them out to be more than they were, but the person you thought you liked is different compared to now. Even then you feel pathetic enough to admit that you still like them or send them texts when you know that they won’t respond anymore.
Now they’re just a distant memory that you’re attempting to, yet having a hard time, letting go of, but you’re trying everything. Part of you wants to burn the memory, but part of you wants to keep it—You want them to be happy, but at the same time you wish that you didn’t. Some part of you still wants what you once had together despite how they constantly ignore you.. the other half of yourself knows better than to wish for such things. You’re having an internal war in regards to this someone and you just don’t know what to do about the person who was almost your lover.
i don’t know if anyone still follows this blog? i haven’t posted in nearly a year. i’m finding a new use for it now, as a writing resource kind of blog. the content will be changing for a more writing-directed focus, though i’ll still post pictures from time to time.
as always, if you don’t care for the content i will not be offended in the least if you unfollow