Breath our scents, walk our landscape, hear our melodic dialects, delight in our savory morsels, touch each rich texture, and the southern essence remains a mystery. The ethereal south, unfathomable to the five senses, lives in the heart. If you believe in magic, and can survive the devastating passions of an open heart, just possibly, you stand a chance of living a moment as a southerner. Most people aren't brave enough to be southerners, even the ones that are.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

From Beneath the Carolina Moon



May all the Irish blessings come true for you in the coming year, except for the one of being in heaven a half hour before the devil knows you're dead.

2008 promises to be one of the most unique years ever, especially here, beneath the Carolina moon!

Until then,

Dread
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Wednesday, December 19, 2007


Yes, it's Christmas in Dixie, but it seems, no matter what, the mood just hasn't struck me. I don't have that Christmas sparkle, that tingle, or Christmasy feeling. I don't detect it in many places either. Maybe its the weather. It's been too warm here for too long. Maybe its because there seems to be more tension in the world than normal. Maybe everyone is afraid that the big rubber-band is about to pop.

I don't know. It's Christmas. Well, almost. There's still time for hope, and I guess that's part of what Christmas is about. Hope.
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