Invisible Me Study by Anita Adams – first conceived in 2015, rev. 2017
Objective: To give women of all ages, ethnicity, economic, educational or sexual orientation an opportunity to be heard either by poem, quote, short story, prose or statement a voice using the AWA (Amherst Writers & Artists workshop method), or by an invitation and agreement to share their voice in response to two Writing Prompts.
Number to be interviewed: Interview 50 women ages 18 & up
Name of Writer (in whatever manner the Narrator/Writer chooses)
Region or Country where Participant grew up.
Authorization/Release Form: Complete, sign and return the attached Authorization/Release Form for publication purposes (to be sent separately).
Publishers to be considered: AWA Press, Hazelden, Alfred A. Knopf, Self-Published
Please respect the originality and personal property of this project to be solely that of Anita Adams aka AAdamsLLC. All communication and offers to assist with its fruition should be directed to Anita Adams first. AWA.AAdams@gmail.com Thank you. www.CalledtoWrite.org
Scheduling time for self appears to be elusive, but necessary.
Where does the time go?
Shopping, cleaning, driving, creating, writing, managing finances, working, remembering others, giving back, in contemplation and prayer, planning, scheduling, creating art while pushing a grocery cart.
Wherever time takes me – that’s where I am. I am here., therefore, God is here too.
Breathe. Believe. Play. Laugh. Pause – because this is the way. The way to the heart. The way to balance it all.
I’ve been working on crafting a Dream I had last year sometime, and although it is not finished the essenceof it is this:
My Last Day on Earth – A Dream
In the dream, it is my last day on earth. Friends and family are somehow gathered to a potluck to wish me farewell. It’s evening, and I’m waiting with the hostess at a house, circa 1950’s on top of a Town Mountain. As I wait in the house, I am pacing in a dimly lit dining room, walking and gazing out a bank of three windows. Everything in the house is either white, gray or brown. Pine wooden floors, white shiplap walls, brown antique wooden door. There’s a sense in me and others of peace and a knowingness that all is well. Being a woman of faith, I understand death is inevitable.
As friends and family gather bringing casseroles, beverages, vegetable plates, salads and desserts, they enter through the brown wooden door and place their dishes on a long white wooden dining table. We look at each other and smile in silent reverence, as I continue to walk gently in front of the windows, and it dawns on me that this will also be the last sunset I will see here on earth.
Two of my daughter’s childhood friends come in with a magenta card and hand it to me. As I read the card, filled with reflections of what I’ve meant to them in their life, I notice it also contains $98. The $98 puzzles me and still is a questionable piece of this dream. Just as I finish reading the card, hugging and loving on them, I notice the light in the room begins to change to a glow.
An urgency rises in me to get to the bank of three windows to view my last sunset. This is how it appeared to me in the dream (I took this photo in 2011):
Feeling grateful to see these rainbow hues of my last sunset on earth, another question arises in me before the sun sets. It is this: “How do I wish to live or leave this day?”