Boxing The Bang Blues

Of my five sisters, I am the one who most favors my paternal grandmother, Sophie Mae Moss, a woman who epitomizes the words strength, intelligence and beauty. Yet, in spite of possessing her face and head, I have spent most of my fifty-three years hiding from the wind, yanked firmly under hats, bandanna-tied under scarves and above all else, safely ensconced behind crisply cut Geisha-girl bangs or a side-parted, side-sweep of hair (which I'm certain loudly announced I was engaged in a cover-up).

I lamented the size and shape of my high, sloping forehead, as if it were the most horrific feature ever unrecorded in the Guinness Book of World Records. How could this have happened to me? Why was I The Chosen One for rude comments from passing strangers, bodacious teens, classmates and, sometimes, even siblings and cousins? Just now, the thought crossed my mind if my grandma ever experienced the coming of age trauma of being different from the others. Somehow, I never thought to question her while she was living. Possibly because I'd have had to confess that, for me, to look like her was a constant source of pain.

The names---most of which I have since trained myself to forget---once shone down on me as bright and glaring as a hanging neon light. "Big Forehead" seemed to be the one that made the largest splash, whenever some kid wanted to be particularly nasty. So I learned to sweet-talk my mother into combing a shock of my hair (thank God it was always long once straightened) into my face and, pressing one hand to my head while her other snipped the hair into a blunt line snaking across my face, just above my brows. To encourage them to lie as protective as sentry, I resorted to tying a scarf across my forehead at night, at the expense, of course, of the bumps that would spring up in my adolescent face, considering oil and pores, same as oil and water, don't usually jive. That was when "Bumpy Face" got added to "Big Forehead" to weld a double whammy!

One long-lasting memory of the first part of my life is the ingenuity I'd muster to hide my genetic faux pas from the world. Yes, I walked backward in rambunctious wind, avoided direct eye contact with other people with high foreheads for fear they'd witness the self pity in my eyes, and walked with my hand plastered over my bangs if a fan or other wind-generating mishap occurred.

I learned to stand aloof from people, especially other children, when I was younger. Children were prone to observe whatever it was you were concealing, and like adults and animals, they'd find themselves drawn to my forehead; hands moving lightening fast to lift and slick back my non-antagonistic bangs. Yes, that was childhood. Great! Now fast-forward to young adulthood and you have a young teacher making sure to maintain a respectably healthy distance from those youngsters who were prone to invading another person's privacy...didn't matter if the other was the teacher.

One afternoon during sixth period, the last period of the day, I dropped my guard. The student had been standing near my desk rattling pleasantly for a few minutes, both of us charmed Spring Break loomed close enough to smell Panama Beach breezes. And as I'm grading essays, half listening, trying not to take too many sets of papers home with me, this student reaches out and gently but firmly swipes back my bangs! Mercy! I thought I'd be sued and suspended and sentenced, if I hadn't remembered I enjoyed my freedom and had bills to pay. Everything hidden inside me longed to bolt up from that teacher's desk and snatch a crank out of that child. Steam literally roiled up from my nostrils. Momentarily, the whites of my eyes turned alcohol red. I was so heated my hair went nappy then straight in seconds.

In a flash, he apologized and softly inquired if that was why I perennially wore bangs or styled my hair in my face. It took me a minute or two, but I eventually mustered a muffled yes. Surprisingly, the entire scene was privy only to us, but the aftermath remained with me for quite some time.

As the years played out, I vowed to overcome such a mentally and emotionally crippling self-prejudice. It didn't feel right. It didn't make me feel good to judge me. I told myself, I will learn to swim in this lifetime, same as I will hurdle the nudity I felt whenever I wasn't posted up behind my infamous bangs. I was notorious. As the times changed and the styles did the same, I didn't. What? I found a way to work my super-big Angela Davis Afro into a banged wonder. Braids arrived and were everywhere except at the front of my head. And my short natural had to be trimmed with enough hair on the top to tease down onto my bumpy forehead. Drats!

Then came the day I graduated from Tuskegee Institute with Highest Honors and relocated to Atlanta, GA. Wholly loving working and living outside of the confines of dormitories and my parents' hallowed home, I defied the odds one weekend and styled my hair off my forehead and turned the nose of my blue Chevy Chevrolet towards Tuskegee and returned for a weekend visit with my hair, for some unfathomable reason, styled completely off my forehead. My stepmother, I recall, studied me for a second and said, "Wow! I like you with your hair back off your forehead! I can see your whole face! You look wonderful!" And though there was nothing about her expression and tone that bespoke ridicule, I figured she had to be pulling my leg!

But she wasn't. Unbeknownst to me, I faced more years of walking toward total self acceptance and self love. And though that walk was to take a circuitous route at times, much like a snake hunting its tail, I eventually, finally, thankfully, proudly, I accept my forehead in all of its wonder and uniqueness. I am precisely the way the Divine wants me and made me to be. I am a legacy; my son has a slight bit of my forehead and, so too, definitely does my granddaughter, Laila Amor.

A few years ago I remember watching Tyra Banks, who also possesses a high forehead, host a show about accepting what is unique about you and making that feature or characteristic your calling card, your strength, your birthright. And that is what I have embraced...all that makes me One-of-a-Kind. On the journey, I've come to understand that once you accept you, others who love and care about you will also.


Cherishing this golden existence as I box the Bang Blues,
TheGoldenGoddess
2/28/2011

A Home-going Leads To A Home-coming

(L to R, Claudia Moss, Cousin Hannah Young, Sister Bernadette Stitts, Cousin Danny Young, Aunt Marion (my mother's baby sister), Cousin Mary Ann, Sister Glenda Pearl Halcromb and two precious little friends. We came together to say good-bye to my second cousin, Tracey Forman, daughter to my first cousin, Avery Young, Mary Ann's brother.)




I traveled to Tuskegee Institute, Alabama, on Thursday, February 24, 2011, to stand with my extended family, as we said farewell to my second cousin, my baby cousin, Tracey Forman. She was the only daughter, the only child, of my first cousin, Avery Young. Yes, when the clarion call goes out, whether for the Youngs or the Mosses, we go. Tracey was a Young on her father's side. My beloved mother Clementine Young Moss was her father's aunt, the sister to Avery's dear mother and Tracey's grandmother, Lee Young.

At Tracey's Home-going ceremony, I learned how very much she was loved and revered by the people with whom she worked and served beside in the U.S. Army. The sweet testimonies told of how she loved all with whom she came into contact, making them laugh one minute and making sure they were held accountable on the job the next. Sitting there, staring at her silent form, I had to smile, the stories making me nod and beam with pride and pleasure. I thought of her father sitting at the front of the church, near her open casket, where she was beautifully and ceremoniously dressed in her military uniform. Her father is incredibly hilarious, too, the funniest, wittiest remarks slipping easily from his lips.

Tracey's smile could brighten the dullest room, like her baby girl, who stood between the cars at the home where the families gathered after her mother's service. I don't know where her other three siblings were in the throngs of people, but they were absolutely gorgeous sitting side by side at the funeral, trying to be strong while the Davises flanked them, their grandmother's, Ethel Davis', family. Ethel and Avery were childhood lovers who parted ways as the years created a string of memories.

When the Home-going came to a somber end, everyone filed out of the sanctuary and crossed a foyer to enter the dining hall, where members of the church had prepared a savory meal for the repast. I could barely eat for meeting Tracey's other family and friends, so I popped out of line to snap pictures and chat. Perhaps I should have been a politician. Everybody received a hug and a hello. Swept up in the revelry of living, I captured over 300 pictures, most of which I will post on Facebook (so if you are reading this, please know that The Golden Goddess is Claudia Moss on Facebook, and you are invited to join me there, also!).


On this Home-coming trip, I spent time at Tracey's father's home in rural Roba, Alabama, a tiny patch of the world on the outskirts of Tuskegee. What a blessing that was! Avery, whose nickname is Muff, is an immaculate host, along with his beautiful wife, Renee. My sister Bernadette, whom we affectionately call "Chicken," because she was characteristically prone to fly into a rage and fight like a chicken with its head chopped, hopping and leaping and scratching up one side of her opponent and then another, spent the night with me! (Mind you, I used to be her opponent on numerous occasions in our childhood.) Avery's only sister, Mary Ann Young, and our little cousins, Hannah and Danny, were there as well. They are two of our cousins Brian and Shakira Young's brood. There are two more boys, William and Jeremiah. Then again...I may be missing a chap! Something is telling me there are five of them, but at this writing it is 3:01 AM, and I dare not wake anyone with a question of that sort.

All of my siblings from my mother, Clementine Young Moss, were present to say good-bye to little Tracey, although four did not enjoy the delightful sleepover at Avery's home, which was much like a rustic retreat, complete with five horses and rolling stretches of land and a lake! My oldest sister Diane lives in Montgomery, Alabama, so she drove home after sharing an evening meal with us, saying she had to work, unlike some of us. (giggles) My twin brother Claude (Bubba) lives in Tuskegee, and off he went as well. Glenda Pearl and baby sis Athera, who travelled up from Margate, Florida, with Mary Ann, spent the night at my father's home in Little Texas, a tiny postage stamp of a rural area outside of Tuskegee, on the opposite end from where I was.

In the event you are wondering, I am Tootsie, the other twin to Claude. My father named my twin and me. He loved his great-grandmother's name, Claudie, but he considered it too out-dated for his second daughter. Thus, he crowned me with the name, Claudia, a classic nombre in any circle! And my twin brother's name came fairly easy, as my father's name is Claude.

When a light goes out in my family, I am reminded to live my BEST LIFE right now! And the gift of our lives is GOLDEN when we remember that we are divine creations having a human experience.


In closing, I invite you to "go home" if you haven't visited the homefolks in a while. You know it is all too "facil," as the Spanish can say, to stay away, for one reason or another. Just go home and sit on the porch, prepare the evening meal, listen to the old stories, bring the little ones and savor precious moments with those whose blood whispers the same melodies as yours.


TheGoldenGoddess
February 28, 2011

Praises to The Leading Ladies Society

(Left to Right: Claudia Moss, J.L. King, Trey Gooden, Goldie Buchanan, Angela Laster-King, Tina Crittenden, and Dr. Brown)




It was my pleasure to attend the Leading Ladies Society's "First Annual Lovers Retreat" at the Crowne Plaza Perimeter NW, in Atlanta, Georgia, on Saturday, February 19, 2011. The beautiful gala boasted the following impressive seminar speakers: T.O.W.O.A. celebrities, Angela King and Tina Crittenden; Motivational Speaker and People Coach, Tangela Washington; New York Times Bestseller J.L. King and Hosts of Trey&Tonya Loveology on YouTube.com, Tonya Buchanan and Trey Gooden.

The Leading Ladies Society, Inc., is a scholarship and grant foundation committed to enhancing the lives of all women with networking, support, education, and empowerment. The Society's four defining principles are: Live life with PRIDE, PURPOSE, PASSION and always strive for PERFECTION.

The Society's 2011 goal is to award two academic scholarships and two small business grants to women. The proceeds from their upcoming events will go towards accomplishing these goals.

Please donate to The Leading Ladies Society, Inc. via their website at www.leadingladiessociety.com. The founders are Lynne Barney and Helen D. Brooks.


Living a Golden Life~~~
TheGoldenGoddess
2/27/2011

FIONA ZEDDE: My Guest Author on her 2011 DANGEROUS PLEASURES Blog Tour

Guest Author FIONA ZEDDE
stops in to discuss her latest enticing blockbuster,

DANGEROUS PLEASURES



TheGoldenGoddess: Welcome to "A Golden Life," Fiona! It is such a pleasure to have you visit on your 2011 DANGEROUS PLEASURES promotional blog tour! I am excited about the release of your new novel, as you are one of my favorite authors. Thank you in advance for gracing The Golden Life with your beauty, wit, charm and memorable voice.


How was the writing of this novel, your sixth novel, different from the other stories? Was it more challenging to tell? Did the writing come easier? Has your writing process changed?


FIONA ZEDDE: Writing Dangerous Pleasures was an interesting and different experience on a few levels. The least reason being that in the middle of writing the novel, I found out I had breast cancer and had to properly deal with that—surgery, radiation, chemo—before getting back to the book. By the time I finished the novel, it had to be pushed back an additional year because of its bumped publishing schedule.


As I was telling Spencer in an earlier blog visit, because of illness and more of life’s ups and downs, my creativity was at its lowest. But eventually the words came back to me, for which I’m very grateful.


The writing process has only changed for me in recent months because I quit corporate America to write full-time. Now, I am constantly challenged to put myself on a productive schedule. There are SO many distractions out there!


GG: How did you come to write this particular story---a romance different from the others in many ways?


FZ: I was consciously trying to do something different with this new book. That was my challenge since—six books and three novellas in—I already have a certain way of writing, scenarios I like to explore, and type of characters I typically examine.
Straight women have never interested me as characters for my novels before, but I thought with Renée’s particular friendship with Mayson (an out lesbian), there could be some interesting possibilities there. At the beginning of the novel, I had an idea of how it would all wrap up, but as I wrote, the characters surprised me and essentially wrote the ending themselves.


GG: Houses play a significant part in Toni Morrison's fiction. What would you say has surfaced as a mainstay in your fiction? Why?


FZ: Strangely enough, the exploration of mother/daughter relationships has been a preoccupation of mine. I hadn’t fully realized it until I was having a conversation with another writer about recurring themes and HE pointed this out to me. His eye caught the frequent appearance of father/daughter pairings and troubled mother/daughter interactions. None of my characters are orphaned and their mothers (whether present, dead, or estranged) play important roles in their lives.


I’m sure all this is due to some subconscious things I’m still working through. But my mothers are important to me. They’ve influenced and supported me through my maturation process and through my writing career. My father, however, has been absent from my life since I left Jamaica twenty years ago.


GG: Mayson offers Renee the advice: "One day you'll realize that it's okay not to love everyone who loves you." This is a very revealing statement, reflecting the complexity of the gorgeous woman's personality. What did you find most intriguing about Mayson as a character? How was she culled? Have you ever known her outside of the pages of your work?


FZ: Mayson is my newest darling. She is focused and centered as a person, yet she has the biggest potty mouth and isn’t afraid to use it. That’s one of the most intriguing things about her. Also, like most of us, she has the clarity and wisdom to see what everyone else in her life needs, but she’s blind to her own desires or more so, how to satisfy these desires.


She’s completely a work of fiction, based on no one. Mayson came to me one day in the shower—I get most of my ideas there—already speaking one of the lines from the book, something about life dropping shit bombs. After that, I knew she was a keeper.


GG: Your covers and titles are always as beautiful and sumptuous as your narrative voice, your presence and your love of Rumi. "Dangerous Pleasures" is a testimony to this truth.

Share a behind-the-scenes peek at how you decided on the title "Dangerous Pleasures" and the rear visual of a partially unlaced beauty of a fairer hue than the dark-chocolate sirens who have previously graced your covers?


FZ: I very rarely get any input on the covers of my books. The only one I chose was Every Dark Desire. My publisher chooses the covers based on whatever criteria the house has in mind. I haven’t had any strong objections to any of the covers so far, though. But, when a friend of mine saw the cover for Dangerous Pleasures, she asked with surprise, “Why is there a white woman on your book cover?” All I could do was shake my head.


As I was writing the book and envisioning Kendra, the title actually came to me. It was between Pleasure in the Dark, Dark Pleasures, and Dangerous Pleasures. My editor thought the final one would give the book an edge and tease the readers toward the notion that this book was REALLY different from all the rest.


GG: What does the creative horizon currently forecast for Fiona Zedde? May your devout fans expect a road down a different path?


FZ: It’s interesting that you ask that. I’m actually about to release a Young Adult novel under the name “Fiona Lewis” in April. That’s absolutely something different. I’m also currently working on a more literary novel called "Blossom in the Snow" set in New York of the 1920’s. I’m really excited about it and hope my readers will be, too.


GG: Muchas gracias, Fiona! I love the way you meet your new challenges with only the strength, fortitude, and grace that only you can! And if you are excited about the wonderfully new paths your work is taking, then we, your devout readers, share your enthusiasm. I wish you continued peace, love, health and wealth always....


Beloved readers, get your copy of Fiona's new novel this January 25th at a store near you, or you can order it from her website (www.fionazedde.com) or www.charisbooksandmore.com. or Amazon.com. If you haven't indulged yourself in the unforgettable experience of reading a Fiona Zedde short story or novel, there is no finer time like the Present!


And for those readers interested in reading more about Fiona on her blog tour, please follow me over to her next blog appearance at Spencer Hope Davis' blog, "Observations from the Road Less Traveled," on the Day of Love, February 24, 2011.


The two links to ink are http://www.spencerhopedavis.com/ and www.fionazedde.com.


BESOS

REJUVENATE: My First Flash Fiction

Rejuvenate
By Claudia Moss
Copyright 2010
119 words




Idalia basked in Charlotte Amalie sun, gazing at the suited woman leaving the condo on the end, where the iguanas grouped. On a table behind her, a fat folder waited. There was much to do before evening fell island soft.




“If I painted, I’d paint this place inside shuttered windows.” A couple shifted, the delicate one smiling at Idalia. Sushi dotted the beach bar counter. “Windows are my forte!” came before her partner frowned. “Your gallery opens next week.”




A month later, a tourist photographed an iguana savoring a banana inside a Ferragamo shoe. Talk speculated. Maybe the artist had a husband. Maybe they’d met a duppie. Stateside, a new widow moaned and passed Idalia a thick, damp envelope.

Enamored Beneath my Locs...

I am enamored.

I am enamored at the thought of her name.

I am enamored at the sound of her voice, at any text she might send.

I am enamored under the scrutiny of her stare.

I am so enamored.

I am enamored when I study her visage, clearly lost in the shape of her lips.

I am enamored in the way I stride, my eyes whispering the lingo of the sway in my hips.

I am enamored at the softness of her touch.

I am enamored and I don't particularly care who knows as much.

I am enamored beneath my locs.

I am enamored at my fingertips' urge to record her dimensions.

I am enamored and she has no conception of my perplexity.

I am simply wetly enamored and I don't know how to proceed but I know The Way is Present.









I am enamored and watching her eclipses these ruminations.

TheGoldenGoddess

Strawberries, Stilettos & Steam: A Book Review

I meet her on a popular website. We chat, about writing, our current projects and where we've been thus far on the journey of our lives. Affable and enthusiastic, she is a sponge, absorbing everything I offer from my academia background, hers in the corporate arena. Our friendship blossoms over the course of weeks that quickly become months, and one day she gives voice to her long-held dream of pursuing a writing career, one I see manifest seemingly effortlessly.


Who is this astounding woman? Imani True.


Ms. True has always nurtured a secret love for writing. But 2007 proved a turning point when she wrote her first erotic story, and later teamed up with erotic poet Dreama Skye one year later. Together, the sexy duo collaborated on their love child, STRAWBERRIES, STILETTOS AND STEAM:EROTIC TALES.


A Native New Yorker, she lives and works in Las Vegas, where she works on several novels, collaborates with Dreama Skye on a sophomore story collection and pens two screenplays with her son. Her story "Just a Fuck" can be read in the Delphine Publications anthology BETWEEN THE SHEETS.


Who is her sexy partner-in-crime? Writing erotic poetry since 1998, Dreama Skye knows fate and destiny collided when she met Imani True. Dreama, born in the bluegrass state of Kentucky, is presently immersed in writing a book of erotic poetry, her first novel and another collaboration with Imani. Her story "The Closer" appears in BETWEEN THE SHEETS, also.


Before one enters the fiery smorgasbord of stories, one is arrested by the sensuality of the book's cover. It's beautiful, the spilling bottle of, possibly, strawberry wine, a bowl of delectable strawberries and those sexy pumps. And just when one figures it can't be any more alluring, the title whispers of STRAWBERRIES STILETTOS & STEAM in appetizing fonts! Yes, it's fit to be gift-wrapped for Valentine's Day, birthdays, Christmas, and New Year's, and passed to a lover you want closer than most.


Inside the ravishing collection, the reader encounters lovers in a wide and interesting cadre of scenes and situations, all drawn to one another by the magnetism of attraction. Bianca and Basil meet at a highway roadblock, where she gets rerouted on her way to join her boyfriend, Jason, for dinner. Considering her map, she knows she's to go left, yet gorgeous road worker Basil insists that she follow the road signs. He winks and she wonders. His sex appeal is not lost on Bianca, who instantly craves his full, juicy lips and observes how his jeans fit. At the end of the detour, surprisingly, Basil awaits her and they enjoy mad sex.


In "All Through the House," Lorena and Carlos christen her new home. Then Alix, the real estate agent returns, and a steamy threesome gets under way as "Birthday Sex" plays in the background.


With short-shorts included in this collection, you devour savory snippets as well as full-course meals of longer pieces. Now the style of each story varies like evident talent in a designer's high fashion collection. Some leave you naked across the computer screen, another exposed on an erotic website, desirous on the IM and wicked on left-open webcams. There is something for every inclination, for every taste. If the flavor of brawn turns you on, Imani and Dreama serve sizable, get-it-done portions. If lesbian kisses sweetly dismiss the outside world, they put you on notice for tantalizing temptresses weaving silky webs of Sapphic intrigue. And you already know a few threesomes exist under the sheets.


Sasha and Rayne's paths cross on Erotic City's website. Their exchange leads to stilettos and steam once they slip into one another's head, the encounter claiming the others softer places.


In the judge's chambers, Alisha is surprised by a sexy mysterious man in black, who discovers she looks very different without her robe. Bailiff gone for the day, Alisha soon learns pleasure can reside in the tongue!


Mmmmmm. From cover to cover, STRAWBERRIES delivers on the sizzle! If you want to be turned on and turned out, get your copy and set aside an enchanting evening with your sweetheart or treat yourself. Read it aloud or quietly savor the words. Disappointment doesn't live in the book's pages. You're guaranteed to want more and more of the strawberry wine and the burst of fresh fruit in your mouth and the sensation of steam on your skin.

Let's eavesdrop...

"The striking woman began removing her clothes in the garage. First, she removed her shoes, then her blouse, and finally, her skirt. By the time she entered the living room, a trail of clothing marked her path through the house.

Nika Winters had decided to make her way upstairs, and into a warm bath. When she rounded the corner at the second-floor landing, she heard a familiar voice.

"Stop right there."

Strong hands came up to her face and loosely tied a blindfold around her eyes. Those same hands nudged her from behind to enter the master suite of the lavish property that she and her husband called home.

"Right this way, baby."

Jackson Winters was like that. He always had surprises for his wife of fifteen years. Nika loved that about him."

To experience the delight Jackson planned for Nika, you've got to read the story, so get up, get out and find the book. It will send you into overdrive.

And to think Imani True and Dreama Skye are already at work on erotic collection Number Two. KUDOS, Ladies!