Apologies for the post-holiday posting of this. It somehow landed in drafts when I imagined tapping the “publish” button.
A merry montage for my family that I share with you this Christmas.
May you, your family and friends, near and far, enjoy a peaceful and joyous holiday.
Love, am
Nero the Cane Corso, friend and muse to my sister, Grace; Honey the Pit mix, adopted this year, crazy companion to my sister, Dolores; Cormac/Mac-mac the Malamute, snow-lover and liege to my sister, Virginia; Mojo the Dachshund, long-bodied, big-hearted buddy to my family; and last but never least, Kiwi the Testudo tortoise, roommate and foil to my daughter, Caroline❤️🎄🌟
Bringing the Misfits Home A Sentimental Christmas Memory
we embrace every relative load up the wagon, pack in tight and leap onto the highway Staten Island to New Jersey chrome steeds try galloping past our Country Squire, but Dad fantasizes he’s lead stallion from the rear-facing seat, I watch the mesmerizing herd of headlights trail farther and farther behind no other man (driving 90 miles an hour) will ever replace this depth of faith my fierce childhood possession, always
into the cold, dark Jersey night, we arrive home the V-8 shudders, the presents cushioning our sleepy heads rattle my little sister’s pigtails shift on my shoulder, I shake the bones to wake us up Tima’s barking gnaws the sleep crust from our eyes while we unpack every last ounce of Italian cheer and clamp our gifts beneath all available arms my brothers, sisters and I march like weary soldiers across the snowy lawn we trudge up the brick stoop and into our warm home pajamas quickly managed, we mime brushing our teeth
Mom tucks us in and kisses our cheeks with her smile brighter than winter I surround myself with stuffed animals, swaddle in blankets and stare out my bedroom window to search for the blazing star of my picture books (I’ll later learn that I’d been praying to Venus all along)
tomorrow, like clockwork, Emile will stop at the corner of our street yell out in his mildly, terrified mailman voice, “WHERE’S TIMA?” one of us will step into the cold to coax our hefty German shepherd away from her favorite place on the front stoop to bring her inside and just like that, Christmas is officially over
(Opening image, 1980 – Christmas Tree) (Image directly above, 1980 – my little brother, Vito, me and our goofy shepherd, Rosie Unfortunately, I couldn’t find an image of our childhood shepherd, Tima, a much more serious-minded shepherd )
Long ago, I began what I affectionately titled my ‘kitchen-sinking file’ an ever-growing repository to hold my murdered darlings — the words I couldn’t jettison into the infinite, all-powerful, sometimes destructive, and often just downright crappy void of invisible voices
For this first short reconstructed piece, I wanted an environmental theme — Though the merged thoughts are depressing, this was an enjoyable exercise to do. I hope to create a few more of these pieces in the future.
Reconstruction 1:
NATURE VS US we seem to be fighting against her only one of us can emerge victorious
I. while we busy ourselves engraving our legacies into granite the concrete angel arms waiting for our bones fade away beneath the ebb and flow of our disbelief
II. DELETED as we delete the things we detest
III. beyond the horizon, where the hot lands submerge he rolls his great mane to rest upon the blackened grass south of the Sahara the great space around him vanishing as he sleeps
IV. slipping and whipping down the burning slide saddled to a cement slab in sun dried: Any Town, Earth County ZipZapped000
V. obfuscators of earth’s guardianship whose clasped hands grip limitless wealth (go ahead, toss those deposit boxes and time capsules into the rising sea)
…and they tossed their wishing well coins
VI. sometimes our beasts go silent sometimes our beasts escape most often they starve to death despite their accumulated knowledge
VII. long ago, a pregnant virgin cradled my childhood faith
VIII. I must remember skating on Papa’s ice pond, and I must always pray for spring
——————————————————————————————- captured footnote: X——-X entry: byte.non–f (fire drive destroyed 2025/alt recovery file cap 219) 5Z 7K 24X: date doc// October of the 6th route//2030 ——- archive:context txtvolume79033cvx130..:///Rational science had been crushed beneath the Mad Believers (4fT99)//and those by their side squatted on the world… during this period, fear and hate thrived and love un-lived Entry200060002324//eventually The Mad Belief (ipsumibidMXCII1112) was forgotten ///recollected during nature’s self-purge/mankind no longer present… ———- end entry…datapoint…X recording 54567 —–someone screaming on the floating island collect years, savaged roots, where are you all???end transmis /’’’tend the children well/’’’’’ they begged, sow seeds, plant saplings you there – apologize for unsalvageable soil. unusable water earth’s clock solar-powered no backup no backward angels’ concrete dissolved
Hi there, How I wish there was more love flooding the world rather than tidal waves. Nonetheless, I’ve anchored the drywall in warm hues. (Blue DragonUmp latex satin too depressing) Here’s a brush of autumn color for your chilled porch.
artwork created a few years back, updated recently (snake & squirrel created with Prisma & watercolor marker, snake background created with Canva/fun program:))
Your eyes flashed the colors of a summer storm.
Thunder rolled along the pink of your mouth.
Your shadow filled our home whether you were with it or not.
All this hurricane in one man.
But as terrifying as the clouds of my childhood could be at times, you were the sky.
How I miss the steady blue firmament of your presence in my life.
Today, somewhere out there in the nebula, you’ve turned 92 years old.
For the last few months, I’ve been busily preparing for the UFOs and aliens that descend once a year upon the little hamlet of Pine Bush, New York, a town notorious for its SIGHTINGs and outer-worldliness. Pine Bush even has its own UFO and Paranormal Museum. And the annual UFO Fair draws in both the curious and the faithful by the thousands.
As a first-time vendor to this fascinating experience, I was surprised and amazed at the LOVE everywhere. Storm troopers hugged those who needed hugs. Green and purple people alike held arms. Folks, who’d traveled from near and far, visited the over-hundred plus vendors who were selling UFO tees, posters, stories, books, art, food, handmade items, gifts, jewelry, costumes, music, mementos…
I was blessed to have dear assistants willing to do the 7:30 AM setup, the 4 PM breakdown while smiling, standing, and working through it all. (Large husband and growing son in upper right photo)
My personal hope was to sell something, anything, so I wouldn’t have to walk home with my art-tail between my legs. I was pleasantly surprised. I sold art prints, my poetry book and tees too. I made a nice chunk of dollars that I’ve since deposited into my art & writing account. And now, I can use this hard-earned bounty to create more monsters and aliens! What a great day it was👽
I hope you are all well and managing life on earth. I thank you for visiting my little planet.
I self-published love of the monster in 2016, followed by the ebook version in 2017.
I’d been romancing the silly notion of selling my books at fairs with my vivacious mom who was all in. So, after the ebook arrived on Amazon, I had the physical books shipped home. (to this day, a few print books remain on Amazon through second-party sellers and – a funny story about pricing for another post another time)
But sometimes plans falter, and life lobs a hardball at your chest. Those of you who’ve been kind enough to read an occasional post of mine here – know beautiful Millie had passed away after battling the ravages of a major stroke for three years. During all that time, my books and a large portion of my heart were shoved into a closet.
Fast forward to 2023, and brighter times (life may lob the occasional hardball, but the timeouts help one’s heart to heal). A unique book-promoting site who goes by the name of Shepherd asked if I’d be interested in having love of the monster featured on a page. At first, truthfully, I had no interest. Then one morning I woke up and thought – What the hell. Maybe it’s time. What have I got to lose? Millie never quit.
I thought through the many books in my life that have influenced me. I wrote about five special books, both past and present, that I adore and how their pages help me in my creative process. This is where the Shepherd experience is different from Goodreads or seeking books out on Amazon. The Shepherd site doesn’t just list an author’s book, it lists their personal stories about other books too. Since love of the monster is an illustrated poetry collection, I wrote about books of poetry. Author or reader, you should check out Shepherd for yourself: my book recommendations linked here.
I’m happy to say my enthusiasm for my little monster book has returned. And here I am again. Or rather, here is love of the monster again. This time around I’m only online promoting the ebook. To honor my mom, I’ll do my best to smile her smile as I attempt to peddle love of the monster books at fairs. (If you should want a print book and don’t like fairs, you can always email me, amroselli.writer@gmail.com or you can purchase a book from Amazon which could be cheaper than me shipping a book to you. I’d probably charge 5+shipping. I could write a note inside and add a fancy signature if you’d like;))
In summary: You should absolutely check out Shepherd.com for yourself
love of the monster ebook is re-available on Amazon Kindle. (Going forward, I hope to get it uploaded to Barnes & Noble and maybe Apple Books too. Figuring out file deliveries is quite challenging)
I will be embarrassing myself in an attempt to sell love of the monster books at fairs that have hot coffee in fall and winter and iced coffee during summer and spring. I shall smile like Millie.
I miss my mom like crazy, but rather than get teary-eyed anymore, I smile in the knowledge of how blessed I’ve been to have known and loved such a spectacularly joyous person.
Thank you, am:)
The 5 books I wrote about and shared on Shepherd: the books pictured below are fantastic! It’s wonderful to write about and to share the spectacular books out there in the world!
‘Overwhelmed’ looms on the flashing billboards of my irises ‘Uncertainty…’ notches tighter the belt of the world I’ve yet to decide on an acceptable version of heaven Still, I must not give into ‘the unfinished’ of the past newest year This will be the newest year!
My mettle must leap beyond obeyance of previous resolutions Fundamental confusion must not stymie my goodwill tenacity ‘Where to begin’ roadblocks must not unseat me On or off, I am driver, I am driver, I am driver In my hands, my keys, below my keys, my feet This will be the newest year!
The impractical apparatus of time must be accepted In the know is the ‘now’ where we all exist nothing more nothing less With less one can always make more, I can always make more This will be the newest year!
As this newest year approaches, wineries will bottle their harvests The media and social will continue their ‘rule of sale’ quintessential chaos begets profit, profit begets stockholders, stockholders rule the world “We can all save someone, we cannot save everyone” —good words for a nearby desk sticky note This will be the newest year!
Those standing ahead of my engine might consider I won’t have the balls to roll them And, they are correct There are ways around not having your goodness stolen Fire exists in many forms, I can choose one This will be the newest year!
Poe spoke of “long fits of sanity” before he fell into a coma while wearing someone else’s clothes There is something masterful in the un-mastered struggle the purity of the un-chartered quest on a quiet day ‘Hold to heart my windmill’ I must sing each morning as I shake the rust off my fingernails This will be the newest year!
Wishing you all a kinder and more peaceful newest year Here’s to 2023!
I believe every human being should paint a dog. This is our Mojo. My daughter, who will miss him when she leaves in August to study Sustainability, asked me to paint his endearing face for one of her blank walls.
I’ve been on a personal mission to improve my word and art mind while trying to avoid deep media dives. I generally remain off-politic on this site, maintaining this space as my creative respite. But there’s so much going on out there, and I worry what this world will be like for my young adult children and their future families. The heat isn’t only climate-related.
I believe every human being is entitled to: be whoever they believe they are love whoever they choose A woman’s body is her own as are her personal choices I pray my daughter has the freedom to make her own choices (Mojo’s background was originally purple, my daughter requested more earthly tones:) )
I’m a week late posting this piece in the gem of a journal that is Microfiction Monday Magazine. The micro form transforms one’s writing heart into a fluid and raw state. For me, writing micros frees my mind from the baggage it so often carries while trying to impress. I hope you stop by Microfiction Monday. And while you’re there, check out all the marvelous micros; Edition 116 boasts beautiful pieces by David Hensen and G.J. Williams!
May fierce joy, love and peace embrace us all this holiday season❤️
I bring this lovely lady back every Christmas. She adores the holidays!
A warm Merry to all🌲❤️🌟
AnnMarie:)
anntogether 