- Illinois, USA
- January 26
- On this blog: All words (other than identified quotations) © Sharon Nesbit-Davis, 2009-12, All rights reserved.
I am a blog writer at three sites: Rockford Register Star: Arts4All, The Red Tent: The Movie, & Make Peace/Build Community (Sponsored by the Baha'is of the U.S.)
You can find me on Facebook: Sharon Nesbit-Daivs, or "The Mime Writes" Logo Design by Dianaani
I work as the Education & Community Engagement Director of a Regional Arts Council which means I beg "the deciders" to fund and support the arts for everyone, not just the rich.
I am also a mime. For those that hate mimes, I understand. But you'll never find me annoying people on the street, unless I'm living there. I'm a "concert mime" ...which means you have to buy a ticket.
I've been married to my one and only since 1976. Still happy. Still in love. Two kids, six grandkids. In college I became a Baha'i (a world religion whose main theme is unity). It keeps me relatively sane in a world gone mad.
MY RECENT POSTS
- November Remorse
November 21, 2013 11:10PM
- Mom, An Intuitive Healer, & OS
October 30, 2013 10:26PM
October 27, 2013 07:25PM
- The Colored Lady
September 22, 2013 08:48PM
- About Color...
August 29, 2013 10:57PM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “delightful picture in my
head of this. :)”
November 23, 2013 10:14AM
- “Beautiful. I became a
secret Democrat after this.
flying at half-mast
November 22, 2013 04:04PM
- “I know how this feels.
There are peope we love and
us so deeply and
November 21, 2013 11:28PM
- “It's an adventure.
Enjoy, marvel, and
November 16, 2013 10:50AM
- “I'm thinking a lot more
about death than I promised I
when I was young
October 31, 2013 11:59AM
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
November 22, 1963
We are back from lunch and recess, still sweaty and unsettled. Mr. Terrell, the principal, walks in. Someone is in trouble. He never shows up unless someone did something. I'm pretty sure it wasn't me.
We sit down as he whispers to… Read full post »
My mother and I had a failure to communicate. That was the perfect line in the movie “Cool Hand Luke”. It became the punch line for late night comics, and teachers trying to be hip. It was a sad, funny line and everyone who used it had their own story. For… Read full post »
The mother of the missing girl says there are no words to describe this pain. When there are no words for something, it’s hard to dismiss. It demands acknowledgement. So while working on a book project, I am taking a break to write this.
Signs for the… Read full post »
"Why do flies always buzz around me?"
I thought this might be a new joke.
She pouted, and asked, "Do they think I'm poop?"
This is my granddaughter's question on the fiftieth anniversary of the March on Washington. I was eleven when that happened, and watched it on our… Read full post »
from my old one,
I bring my Chicago guy
born, raised and fled.
so he’ll come with me
he is in every dream
My summer intern is smart. She listens, observes, and finds creative solutions to problems. She makes me appreciate my job and see it with fresh eyes. I work for a small not-for-profit arts organization. Most projects I work on alone, so there is no one to challenge, or encourage me. I… Read full post »
I called him "Daddy" when he taught me to ride a bike, and baited my fishing hook because I heard the worm scream, and whisker-scratched me good night. I still called him Daddy when he talked about his college track days and set up the high jump in the yard. I have my mother'… Read full post »
This is a memoir (draft) piece for the book I'm working on...
I am waiting for my neighbor to come out and play. Linda yells out her window they have company, but there aren’t any cars in front of her house, so she might be lying… Read full post »
Today my husband is singing in a Choir Festival at the Baha'i House of Worship in Chicago. Two hundred people from all over the country came, including my brother and his wife. They practiced for three days and they will amaze everyone, especially those who heard the first practice.
Most… Read full post »
Before I left work, I exchanged my pants for a skirt. There is no dress code for preparing a body for Baha’i burial, but for Esther, we decided to follow the Native American tradition of women wearing dresses in sacred ceremonies.There are instructions for the shroud: Cotton or silk. We chose… Read full post »
I’ve known things died since I stomped on a bee when I was three. I’ve buried dogs, cats, parakeets, rabbits, and bats. I’ve gone to the funerals of grandparents, my parents, my father-in-law, uncles, aunts, a nephew, a niece, and friends of all ages. I know about death.
But… Read full post »
I was on the committee to plan the "Searching for Racial Justice"* art exhibit, and to be honest, an exhibit on lynchings wasn't what any of us had in mind. I imagined paintings of unshackled hands, or colors swirled across a canvas. Or maybe black and white photos of faces,… Read full post »
Today was an unexpected vacation day. A pipe burst at our office yesterday, there was a mini flood, and they shut off the water. We made it through the day while the repair men planned and prepared their attack. Today it will be too loud to hear or think. They promise… Read full post »
I overheard a woman in the health food store tell her friend she hoped someday "joy" would become her "default" emotion. I lingered in the muscle enhancement section, which seemed out of place in a store dedicated to a natural life style. I wanted to hear… Read full post »
“You are beautiful to me. You always have been, you always will be.”
My husband told me this last Thursday. He doesn’t remember telling me forty years ago he was glad that I wasn’t beautiful. I didn’t know how to react when he said it. He didn’t… Read full post »
The "Searching for Racial Justice" Art Exhibit is disturbing. During non-exhibit hours, the paintings by Suellyn Woodall are draped with black cloth. My ten year old grandson chose not to go because the paintings portray lynchings. His younger brother, chided him. “But it’s your history,… Read full post »
My family did not go to church on Easter Sunday. It was too crowded and my father's parking spot would not be honored by those who didn't know it was his. He might not get his pew either (second row from the back) and he did not want to to to the "Meet &… Read full post »
About a year ago, a friend told
me the only message he got when he went on a nine day religious
pilgrimage was 'PAY ATTENTION".
That thought stuck and surfaces often. I push it aside because it’s my weakness. I’ve diagnosed myself with adult Attention Deficit Disorder, though I kno/… Read full post »
The Kennedy Center's First Place "Lorraine Hansberry Playwriting Award", is "The Wind and the Breeze" by Nathan Alan Davis.
Yes, I'm proud. And when things like this happen, I remember the doctor who didn't think he should be born.
This doctor, recommended by every… Read full post »
Driving to work in the morning rush hour, half listening to the radio, artsy words popped out. "Imagination"... "Creativity"... "Drama". I turned up the volume. Hopefully a story validating the arts. Perhaps Congress suddenly realiz… Read full post »
I’ve heard jokes and snide remarks about Black History Month for years. President Ford was the first president to make it official in 1976. That year I worked in a grade school. Some white teachers asked why an entire month when the material could be covered in less than a we… Read full post »