Neo Sol Librarian

      It's funny how this blog doesn't reflect my pretty deep stint in trying to start a brewery. I guess that is a reflection of life. So I guess this is an in memoriam post of the attempted brewery sprint. I've been a bit scared to write this blog post. I've been thinking about it for a while and it's really time to admit something. A small feeling that has continued to grow over time ever since I've stepped in a brewery. And that feeling: I fucking hate how white breweries are.      Wait, let me finish. There are levels to this shit.      Brewing solo was fun. It's still fun! I'm a librarian and I like knowing things. I loved the process of finding better ways to brew. From DME based kits to an all-grain brewing setup I went. Trying to figure out ways to brew various styles of beer was welcomed challenge. Setting up temperature controlled chambers for kolsh's and barleywines. Going to Savory Spice shop to get a new ingredient that I'v...

      I've been writing creatively lately. Still journaling. But doing some writing that is not just unfinished thoughts and unfulfilled emotions has helped me. It has helped me to find a moment of peace where my mind can play and imagine. Even if I don't write for that moment in time in the mornings, I sit with my books, read and dream. Trying to get those wishful dreams down in writing is a challenge, but one I honestly welcome which is not regular for me. I become frustrated at the first failure of a new project. And I've already failed many times in my writing journey. But the difference is that I don't feel discouraged to the point of freezing or worse, running.      This piece is for my folks, who took us on all kinds of trips as kids. And while we thought we were always on the go with our folks, our folks took the ordinary and made it extraordinary. A cabin motel became a wooded forest to explore. Hotels became large facilities to explore every crevi...

Note: This is a way later post, unedited, but this book has really stuck with me. My initial thoughts on it. Cheers!       Have you ever read something that made you have a little more understanding about who you are? Or read something that has resonated with you? I'm having all these experiences and more while reading "Stamped from the Beginning: A Definitive History on Racist Ideas in America" by Ibram X. Kendi. And quite honestly, a Dr. needs to be behind his name to attest to the knowledge and research that he has done in the area of race. And the Dr. is just for the folks that have to live by these social rank markers. The book is, as you guessed it, about race and it's ever evolving history, specifically in the United States.      This book is not only helping me relearn our American History with the rose-colored shades off, but I am also finding myself having to unlearn racist ideas that I have of my own.       I'm learning (...

This space is a chronological life order of thoughts and feelings from my perspective. But my perspective gives me a unique lens to see and process experiences and thoughts about things outside myself.  I wrote a blog post for the library I work for (link below). And while this isn't the exact goal I set out to accomplish, I did accomplish some personal goals that happen to be work related (which is really satisfying, shockingly enough. Work is work and personal is separate of that is what I have experienced and what others have advised me to experience work). But my personal goals for the last two months have been to: 1) Try breaking down a story idea into interchangeable notecards 2) Find another writing opportunity 3) Question: What can I write at length about.  And honestly, I've really accomplished may 2.5 items on this list in the last two months. But let me focus on the second one for right now.  After submitting a piece for The Root competition, I decided to searc...

Last month, I worked on a submission for writing contest. As the title reveals, I didn't win. But I had the best time creating this piece and I wanted it to go along with my public writings. This was the first time in a long time that I wrote just for the fun of it. I figured I wasn't going to win. This is my first writing contest. And while I thought my story was good, I need work. Either way, I was even more excited to see who the winner was, and boy did they not disappoint. So descriptive and vivid. The shocker at the very end. And it's a scary one. Very current. The link to the winner's story is here .  My original submission is below. I'm already looking for the next contest to participate in, but what I'm also excited about is how much it encouraged me to continue to write. We all have wonderful stories to tell. It's really about getting it out in a way that can be felt by others.  ENOUGH (officially) August 24th, 2020 I am Blake Overton: professor, ...

 Grandma Bea was born in 1908. She had 13 siblings by the time the youngest and last was born. Her family were bootleggers. Mr. Davis running the main business and Ms. Davis, being part Cherokee in a point in history where this nation of people had been wiped out by US militia, ran the household. I believe she said that she saw one of her brothers shoot and kill another brother. I believe she spoke of going into Travelers Rest area to get water to make moonshine. Their family estate stayed in the family until recent history.  Grandma Bea worked in a hotel as a cleaner in her early early 20s, but soon quit to start selling bootleg liquor from her house. She became a mainstay and matriarch in the neighborhood that she chose to lay roots in with her husband, Mr. Barksdale, in Greenville SC. Despite being high toned and able to probably pass for white like her sister did, she stayed and worked in a black neighborhood.  Grandma Bea became known for her liquor house. Many would...

 Anyone else living in a fear ridden state of mind? I know I am. I mean, being black and trans, safety is always at the forefront of my mind. People are crazy and folks should really protect their personhood either way, but especially their physical selves. Can't be putting your energy to everything and everyone. Anyway, while reminders of safety are always present for me, lately it's been skating on fear, which is really different from safety.  Safety implies that I know what the dangers are and have a plan for these dangers. Fear is raw emotion that can be irrational, at times. But unfortunately, I don't see my fear as irrational and not a doctor could tell me differently. Fear of being gunned down in the street by rabid police is real. Fear of not coming home due to people in power not seeing your personhood as worthwhile and unworthy of being found.  And when you look out into the world to see if there is anything that can give you any symbolism of inspiration and hop...