Shameless Self-Promotion

This is my world.

When I was eight years old I became self aware. My nanny told me fairy tales and I fell in love with the world of fantasy. But I began to realize that JACK was a giant-killer, climbed the beanstalk, be nimble and JILL came tumbling after. I knew that I was different. Somebody told me that Cinderella was a wonderful story. She was a maid who had the right shoe size. I wanted to be the giant-killer.
The media showed me Arthur, Robin, Jason, Sinbad, Aladdin, Zorro, Bond, Tarzan, Mowgli and an eternal list of heroic men and women like Isis, Diana Prince and Jamie Summers were few and far between. Of course we cannot forget the most marvelous Emma Peel. When I saw heroic women they were all bouncy, beautiful and never broke a nail. That wasn't me.
Luckily for me, my sister was reading The Lord of the Rings in school and told me the story as she read it.
And there I found a woman with a sword that I could relate to better.
It occurred to me, at the ripe old age of eight, while watching a special about the history of television; while watching Betty Furness sell Frigidaires... that TV shows are the crap between the commercials and if I wanted to find out the truth I had to read and I liked to read.
An eight year old reading a book is like an eight year old with the plague to most other eight year olds.
I am comfortable with my onlyness.
I was in England and my nanny told me wonderful fairy tales full of magic and dragons and monsters. I wanted so much to be those heroes but I never wanted to be a man. I had to find women like me.
I found vampires, vixens, tramps, she-devils and all sorts of fascinating characters. It occurred to me then that these women weren’t me, or weren’t what I aspired to in my dreams and fantasies. I also decided that I would write my own fantasy tale. With the elements that I feel are exciting. I gave birth to The Mothersource Cycle in sixth grade.
I am an avid reader, writer, performer, actor and audience because I found out that I had inherited little or none of the athletic abilities of the rest of my family. I am an artist. I decided to start from scratch; what is the beginning? (I was going through some religious turmoil at the time). So I read the Bible.

What I found then was that to create a world one had to create a Bible (of sorts) for that world. Then it became about understanding the Deities and Demigods of our own past. That was a lot of fun but made me seem even more plague ridden as a child. I knew that I would have to create this story on my own, with no support from anybody.


To begin at the beginning in the beginning when it began...




Part One of The Mothersource Cycle: The Tale of Chadizah


The Tale of Chadizah begins in the distant future with a young woman who is on the verge of her destiny named Adula Zabadu. As in all things to see the future one must know the past, and her past, the roots of her destiny are begun with a seed some thirteen hundred cycles (years) before her birth. She visits the High Librarian of Agrippa and is told the story of the birth of her great ancestor Lodiva Graze, who is also called Chadizah. The Tale of Chadizah is the first part of an account of the history of the world of Lyantho.

Lyantho is by no means a perfect world, it is, like any a world fraught with hardships and traumas and people coping with real prophesies and their inabilities to drastically alter destiny.


"I do not hate men; they simply do not exist in this particular universe."


"Lyantho is not our world, it is my world."


-Shanna

My Prayer for the New Year

To Mom, the Doctor, My Big Brother and the Goddess Child, Kyle&Traci, FGC, the Leslies, Noble and Eyre, to NFT, to Dr.D (the Man in Black), to Di, Yhema, Pat, Joyce,Devin, Christine, Joel, Earleys, Evanses, cousins, my mentor Dancing GS, Mrs. Smith and the fine Men and Women of every color who have called themselves my friend, students and teachers, Tink, and Seal.

My Love


I hope that everyone gets one thing they want next year.
Ashe.
I hope everyone is blissful for one moment next year.
Ashe.
I hope that everyone realizes that they lived for one year.
Ashe.
I hope that we have peace for one minute next year.
Ashe.
I dream that we all can be free next year.
Ashe.



Shanna Mawavise

12/30/2005

Every Year about this time I think of writing my requiem for the ending year. I've never done it on line just in one of the hundred handwritten journals I have amassed. See, it was not until recently that I allowed myself access to my own Blog.
Just a little old fashioned... 40 years old and seeing myself turn into my parents... Wondering what friends from high school are doing now... Do they have kids?... I don't. I teach.
I pray that the people who are in power know what they are doing and change things... I don't like being at war with anybody especially now that it is so important that we all get along and solve the problems that exist.
If we don't somehow agree to disagree we will never live in peace.
Who can say whose right is the correct right for everyone?
We are individuals. Yes, we are grouped according to location, language and climate, but we are still all different.
There are beautiful similarities and unique and intoxicating differences that make it possible for our world to be a beautiful and harmonious place.
I believe firmly that you cannot bargain with terrorists.
There is a POV problem, however, as to how terrorists can be identified.
I'm sure the English believed that our Founding Fathers were terrorists. It all depends on who writes history.
I had a great History teacher who said something that I will never forget. I'm also sure that many other people all over this world were given the same sage advice: Folks is Folks.
Who am I to judge you? I can only give my opinion, which is one of the many immovable objects we face in life.
I guess I'm trying to say, in a much convoluted way, that world peace would make everybody's life easier.

Shanna Mawavise

Mom

I would like to apologize to my mother for once again making me hard to talk about around your friends.
It can't have been easy for you. It seems that my life was destined to do that to you.
You had to deal with and cover for my assininities. I'm sorry.

S.

From the Truth is stranger than fiction file

Bill owns a company that manufactures and installs car wash systems. (Magic Wand Car Wash Systems, just in case you want to buy one.) Bill's company installed a car wash system in Frederick, Md. Now understand that these are complete systems, including the money changer and money taking machines.

The problem started when the new owner complained to Bill that he was losing significant amounts of money from his coin machines each week.

He went as far as to accuse Bill's employees of having a key to the boxes and ripping him off. Bill just couldn't believe that his people would do that, so they setup a camera to catch the thief in action. Well, they did catch him on film!


That's a bird sitting on the change slot of the machine.


The bird had to go down into the machine, and back up inside to get to the money!


That's three quarters he has in his beak! Another
amazing thing is that it was not just one bird --
there were several working together. Once they
identified the thieves, they found over $4000 in
quarters on the roof of the car wash and more
under a nearby tree.


And you thought you heard of everything by now!!!

Rumsfeld at the heavenly Gate

Donald Rumsfeld died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St.Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.
He asked, "What are all those clocks?"

St. Peter answered, "Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move."

"Oh," said Rumsfeld, "whose clock is that?"

"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie."

"Incredible," said Rumsfeld. "And whose clock is that one?"

St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life."

"Where's Bush's clock?" asked Rumsfeld.

"Bush's clock is in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan."

Ponderance for today

This is just something to ponder:
In the Garden of Eden, there were animals and vegetation, one man, one woman and one talking snake.
Does anybody ever think about this? Not the obvious thing about who did Cain marry or hook up with (and, by the way, Adam and Eve were not married.) but where does it say that any other animal ever spoke?
Now this is not about talking animals. This is about a serpent who spoke to Eve and then was cast down. Not killed, cast down. This might bear some thought as people cast doubt upon the beliefs of some that believe that there is an at least equally intelligent serpent race living beneath the surface of the earth.
If you have any thoughts about this I would love to get some feedback.
Shanna