What’s A Mustang To Do Without…Sally?

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On one of my most recent visits back home to South Carolina I had the chance to capture a few shots of the ‘country ‘ life with my Nikon. Of those I snapped, I wanted to share a few that really stood out of this old Ford Mustang which I believe is a 1965 or 1966.  The car belonged to a distant relative that refused to sell it…for unknown reasons and to this day, no one knows why.  It now  sits alone after  numerous people have made offers to purchase or junk it only to be turned away as down and bereaved as the old thoroughbred looks himself.  I’ve seen this car sit in this same spot and literally fade away as far back as I can remember…I’m 31.  As usual, being a sucker for the natural and  raw side of nature and material it spoke to me.  Instantly the song “Mustang Sally” came to mind by Wilson Pickett. (Youtube it here)

And then I wondered…what if this old pile of  junk still had Sally?  What secrets would it share from the soapbox? That’s when I thought…Hmmm…maybe this:

You remember when Sally would give you a kiss

Saddle me up and throw me in 1st

Those were the good old days I miss

And if she wasn’t arguing with her old man we’d stop by and get Suzie Q.

That’s when I knew…we were in for a road trip

Two bad girls FREE under the sun… that Thelma & Louise type of sh*t.

Smiles on the run in those bright cat eyes

From the morning dew to the evening stars

Sally’s long gone now… buried not too far.

Backroads we left to the highways we ‘d come… from I-95 to 261

We traveled long ways…gassed up and ready.

‘Long as she didn’t drink too much

We’d pretty much hold it steady.

I thought we’d never slow down,

In ’65 we  lived all over the towns

Weeping in tears…Sally tamed me then left

No regrets in my stable this little light of mine still shines

No matter how incorrigible,

Time reaches us all

In due time.

In Its own stubborn way

Nowadays that sleek Dynasty Green has turned gray.

In those days gas was $0.31 cents per gallon

You wanna tell me what it is today?

At the wash they groomed me, brush my mane, and wiped me down

those were happy endings now the only thing that soothes me is these thorns

you mean to tell me they’re calling that acupuncture now?

Ashes to ashes… rust to dust

Wipe weeping eyes staying here isn’t a must

Look right there, it says  “original muscle American made 289 with a smile”

Life has long gone cause that synthetic  stuff would have killed me anyhow

Ask anyone… they would have told you about Sally & that ‘Stang.

We’d return under the moon and I promised old Sally I wouldn’t tell you a ‘thang’.

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B&W

Vintage In A New Age

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Picked up a few vintage items at a yard sale this weekend.  An old storage trunk, a Singer sewing machine (Cabinet Model), and a Nikon EM. Being a collector of vintage and antique items these pieces spoke to me.  History often has a story to tell if we take time to listen.  It was a pleasure speaking with the woman who was selling a host of items that belonged to her father who’d recently passed away.  She stated that he had been collecting so many things that the home looked like an episode of “Hoarders.” With the quality of these items I was only sorry I didn’t get there sooner.  Vintage in today’s world is something to appreciate by all means and uncannily we throw away a piece of the past without even thinking about it.  Knowing the value of something beyond the price tag is truly…priceless.

The Rights of Life Come with Sacrifice…Freedom

“You mean I can’t stay here forever?”

This seems to be the question many find themselves asking as death creeps onto the doorsteps of life.  The bad news is…at some point you’re going to die.  The good news is….well, you’re going to die.  The fear of death is one I overcame at a very young age that I attest mainly to my fascination for the spiritual & unknown.  As far back as I can remember the fascination of life and death only grew after a near death experience(drowning).  From that point on, the mystery that so many fear became a tool for truly LIVING.  After the death of my dear godmother, grandmother, other relatives, and friends the thought of no longer being in the physical seemed to be more intriguing than frightening.

If we place those fears and distractions aside for a moment there is so much more to life that we fail to see.  Live everyday like it’s your last and the worry of death tends to fade.  Exercise your right in servitude and the solemnness will slowly  die.  That’s my mantra.  I find it disturbing that we still fear one another simply because of the color of ones skin, or the god they may worship.  Why can’t we all just be?

I recently had a conversation with my mother who I believe is beginning to go through a denial of death.  To deny death is to shun life, for it is another chapter in this journey.  Besides, you can deny it as much as you want…it’s still going to happen.   In the book,” The Many Faces of Death” by Jacqui James she states,”

One of the faces of death, a very common one, is the

terrified face. It is the face seen by those who have ignored

death throughout their lives and who have

refused point blank either to talk or to think about death,

regarding the subject as morbid and one which, if

indulged in, would hasten their own deaths.

This superstitious attitude is a common human failing:

‘ignorance’ of anything found unpleasant or threatening.

 

This is so true and the face that I firmly believe mother is dealing with.  I’ve tried comfort but that doesn’t fly over too well.  I’m at peace simply knowing that I have attempted.  With the recent loss of her brother and close friend in her religious sect, time is slowly withering away and she is now realizing this.  The relationship I have with her is one that has been off and on, for years for a number of reasons.  One of those reasons has been my determination to follow a path of my own; straying away from the limitations and struggles of so many “religions” these days.  Following a path of my own I was able to awaken the Giant within & overcome those difficulties that many face when it comes to creation, life and death. Once embarking on this voyage of self and harmonizing the world within, the hereafter is no more of a threat  to me than say, a morning jog, or going to the grocery store.  I find it saddening when I look in her eyes and others who’ve followed the tutelage of so-called “leaders” or sects whose only true motive is profit- only to find them suffering and fearful in the end?  To be misled and not ask why is asking for your own demise in any case.  I pray that some sort of solace does rise in their hearts and minds.  Death is something that is within each and every one of us when we are born.  Death is the quiet passenger tagging along on this highway of experiences.   Along the way, it simply became another one of the fears we conjured up to this point in life.  We have yet to scratch the surface of the “tomb” that we currently embody as life.  From the most logically perspective, how can you be afraid of something you know nothing about?

 

At some point, we must all fly away … Maybe we’ll meet again next lifetime…

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