A Semi-Literate Boy Named Bobby

I was a project kid, pretty but hard to make.

Most of the men I let into my life started in pursuit but stayed as teachers.

I was bright and gave my full attention to any man who was willing to teach me about the world of art.

The music I knew was the music of my parents and the other kids in the projects.

From my Father I got Porter Wagoner, Buck Owens, and Skeeter Davis.

From my Mother I got Dinah Shore and Kitty Wells.

From the other kids in the projects I got Motown.

With the music of Motown I learned I could dance and for me dancing is still spiritual.

Everyone said I moved like a black kid, and it was true.

Black folks were my friends and neighbors.

As far as I was concerned I was a Black kid with pale skin.

I figured that Blackness was as much about class as it is about race.

My friend Paul knew I knew my ‘place’ in Charleston’s antiquated class system and that I wanted out.

Paul lived in the rich part of Charleston; the historic district near Battery Park.

He invited me to lunch one especially bright spring day.

He poured tea and showed me a decorative plate that was inlaid with hundreds of shimmering butterfly wings.

Paul liked exquisite objects.

We stepped onto the patio that overlooked his garden and I brought a branch of wisteria to my nose.

Paul said that he wanted me to hear a record.

He said he wanted my opinion.

Then he placed the Beethoven Violin Concerto in D Minor on the turntable.

I heard the needle drop, and then a timpani followed by woodwinds.

I listened as Beethoven told me a story.

I had never heard a story more complex and profound.

It was more beautiful than anything I had ever seen or touched.

And I never stopped listening….

Beethoven Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61

by Yehudi Menuhin, violin Wilhelm Furtwangler, cond Philharmonia Orchestra of London Recorded: 1953

  1. Allegro ma non troppoSecond Life designs:Sharp by [ZD] ALEX OPEN MESH HOODIE black – S *Dura* group gift for men(Black)resize

    GizzA – Lordly [Black] Shirt

    Pose by Katink

Save

Community Is Vital for Creative Families (Guest Post)

from When Women Inspire

When Women Inspire

Today I’m welcoming G.B. Sholander to the blog! I met her many years ago in the writing world and her family is full of creatives so I encouraged her to tell me more about them. The result is this wonderful guest post. Let’s give her the floor!

Creativity runs in the family Meet the Sholander family! The writer of this guest post is on the far left. 😉 Photo used with G.B. Sholander’s permission.

In our family, we value creativity highly. Perhaps that’s why we have writers, artists, and computer programmers in our immediate family. To keep moving forward and keep growing in these pursuits, we’ve found that a strong sense of community is vital. Let me explain.

View original post 514 more words

An Interview with Harold Norse, Part One Section Two: The Pain of Becoming Literate

I moved in with Norse in 1984 and spent my days writing and studying
film and literature.

Norse was drafting his memoirs.

We lived in a creative stew under the strain of the most devastating years
of the AIDS epidemic.

We both had good reason to think our lives would soon be over.

The pressure I placed on myself brought on the symptoms of florid DID.

My alternates were coming out and writing and Harold was responding
to them as ‘characters’.

A written critique of a collection of poems.
Norse gives me a rundown of what he liked or hated about a collection of poems I left for him one week in February 1985. He calls me ‘Bobby’ in the note and uses ‘Bobby’s’ accent in the opening. What I loved about Norse and his critique was that I always knew I was getting the truth.

In the 1992 interview, I describe the emotional pain of becoming
fully literate.

I asked Norse if that was difficult for him.

“Every day was difficult.” he said, “It was the most difficult period
of my life.”

“Why did you do it?”

“What a question! “ Norse laughed and paused, “I almost never
question that.”

“I think it’s a fascinating question.”

“It is,” Norse replied. “It is. It’s one of the few that’s ever
stopped me cold.”

Part two of the interview picks up where part one ends.

An Interview with Harold Norse, Part Two: The Pain of Becoming Literate

An Interview with Harold Norse, Part 1, Section 3– Saints and Self-Destruction

Photo of Rog Goldstein cropped from the original photo
by Nina Glaser taken May of 1985. I have no idea who
those other people are. I’m the guy in the middle.

Interview with Harold Norse (c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

…of wisteria and the scent of honeysuckle

Her  death leaves
us with

hidden memories

of captured fireflies,

of wisteria and

the scent of

honeysuckle,

of taffy pulls
and
pink flamingos,

of Christmas and

the Wizard of Oz,

of swallowed

shame

and conflicting

secrets.

Image and text Rob Goldstein (c) 2017