Saturday, April 13, 2013

4/8/2013  Another from Suza...

At the top...pencil line drawing of an Afro American women, glasses, corncrows and bun perched on top of her head.  Contemplative look on her face.  Thoughtful.

"Later...Sitting on my bunk, my roommate has been regaling me with stories of her recent life.  It's a Bonnie and Clyde story, complete with being "on the run" chased by the Feds...guns, drugs, rock and  I like her a lot because she doesn't act all goody-goody about it...or mushy either. She tells her story without alot of apology.  Rather, she simply states that she just powered straight ahead and didn't think about much...she wanted to go for whatever was in front of her.

Imagine snorting something...maybe heroin or no! some crunched up pills while driving with a buddy - throw in drinking, too.  Suddenly they miscalculate on a curving county road.  Cut to slow motion: the car flies with these two bad angels, then lands crashing through trees and ravines. Finally, the car is still, they're both unconscious.  They come to at the same moment.  Then with a twist of fate, he looks over at her and says, "oh you are okay right?  I felt bad I might have hurt you." Then, he dies.  She lives.  This is just one episode in her life.  Wow.  I think I want to write her story."
From Suza.
Written around 4/8/2013
On one side of the paper is a 'hand-out' titled:  Goals: Typing Essay

1.  Imagine yourself ten years from now.

2.  An Inheritance from Uncle Harry! Let's imagine you just inherited twenty million Dollars...

(note: I find it fascinating these are the suggested essays in Suza's class in prison...)

On the otherside is a pencil drawing of the women, sitting in class... and then Suza writes:

"I'm in love with the sky.  It is purple and wild, moist with thunder and possibility - I drink the clouds, I eat the light, and I almost fall down because I can't look at the ground.  God speaks to me with warm breath, the wind is full of earth and sprouting seeds.  And, in the distance, the faint fertilizers efforts of these Illinois farmers, soybeans, corn, dog food, and the flat earth all merge into a strange vibrancy.  How can I feel the light of the Divine in this flat landscape?  How can I think that those birds are my pulsing flight?  How can this be?  I have no answers, but the trees are bursting with new buds.  I love you. Suza"

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Postcard to Alison from Suza

Hi Sis, I hasten to write having received so many mags from you! Fantastic! And if I don't gravitate toward them- many many others will- so valuable! You have no idea! Thank you so much.

All is well with me, but, as I told Mama, I am beyond busy! How weird! I'm doing time with no time to spare!

I love you and life is beautiful on "C" wing. Hugs, Kisses, Suza