My Fellow Contributors,
You will be happy to know that I have completed 50 frames of my novel. However now that I am at this point it is clear that I am not ready to wrap up the first draft quite yet. I don't want to limit the narratives running through my novel so I am going to keep writing frames until I have fully resolved the conflicts I have created.
This week I want to shed some light on the type of person I am in the hopes that you might better appreciate the message I am trying to convey to you, my Fellow Contributors, with this magazine and my blogs. And being that this blog is my soapbox, I wanted to give you a personal story so that the next time you are feeling down, you have something to read that leaves you saying someone is here with me and understands what I am going through.
When I was two years old I was diagnosed with an auto-immune disorder called Alopecia Areata Universalis. This disorder changes the body's immune system and causes the victim's hair to fall out all over their body. I don't have hair on my arms, legs, head or face. I don't even have hair in my ears or nose. There is nothing medically wrong with me other than that my hair doesn't grow.
Growing up was interesting to say the least. You can imagine what a challenge facing my classmates in elementary and middle school was with patches of hair missing (It wasn't until 8th grade that I decided to shave my head and go bald. My hair has not grown back since). I can still remember all the questions everyone would ask me:
Are you sick?
Did you know you look like Powder?
Do you have cancer?
It wasn't until I went to college that I discovered the one thing that had made me feel like an outcast, was what made me beautiful, unique...Bermuda.
Being bald is what gives me character.
My loving Mom deserves a lot of credit (and thanks and love) because she took the time to educated my teachers and classmates about my disorder. She supported me and told me that just because someone is different doesn't make them bad or ugly or any less deserving of respect.
And when Nick, Slick, Jack and I started this magazine it was this ideal that became the re-bar of our foundation. That different is not bad or any less deserving of respect.
Being different is building the HOOVER DAM.
Bering different is landing on the MOON.
Being different is ending SEGREGATION.
Being different is accepting GAY MARRIAGE
Being different is electing a CATHOLIC or BLACK for president.
Being different makes AMERICA great.
Not being able to grow hair on my arms, legs, head and face has made me more aware of the inner uniqueness each of us possess with our voice.
There is a story behind each of us. A story waiting for words to express it.
I dare you to share yours.
As Always
Undoubtedly Yours,
Bermuda the Man
P.S.
If you know anyone with Alopecia Areata or you yourself have it, please email me at
Bermuda.Editor@gmail.com
I would love to answer your questions and provide support in anyway I can.
For more information on Alopecia Areata please click the following link, NAAF
Showing posts with label alopecia areata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alopecia areata. Show all posts
Monday, April 30, 2012
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Letter To The Leaves: Our Collective Soul
My Fellow Contributors,
This morning I want to depart from where my colleagues have taken their own blogs and take you down the untrodden path to my inner-spirit. And in doing so hope to expose you, my fellow contributors, to the beliefs on which this magazine was founded.
As Director of Public Relations it is my job to up hold the character and promote the brand of A Few Lines magazine. But in order for you understand the character of this magazine, I must first give you some personal narration on one of its creators.
I was diagnosed at the age of two with an auto-immune disorder called Alopecia Areata. The direct effect of this disorder is complete hair loss. So as many you have noticed, from the coffee shop readings or the booth we just recently had at Cal Poly Pomona, I do not have any hair anywhere on my body.
(I bring this piece of information up only so you can better understand the soul of this magazine)
I went through periods of my life where I felt ashamed, cast out, banished to the undergrounds of society. I soon turned away from the external world and moved inward. It was in this place of self-exploration where I developed my voice. The internal dialogue rambling in my head, describing things in its own neo-transcendental style. I went on like this till college; till I became an English major.
The written word became a way for me to transfer my thoughts into the here and now. I was able in just a few lines to capture images of fancy and thoughts of wildness, going on in my soul, down on paper. The illumination of this underground individual expression occuring in my soul was powerful. I wanted everyone to experience this feeling of true-self ejaculation. I wanted to bring people together under the common ground of self-expression and give you a place to share your thoughts on our ever converging world.
We are not elitists, but we do hold ourselves and the submissions we receive to a higher standard. Not because we want to be better than others, but because we believe truly great art comes from a desire to express which is most true to your self.
We look for the boldly unique, the pieces that speak more of the author's heart and mind than of the books he has read.
By Underground, We mean those who wish not for fame, but for the meager gain of personal satisfaction. Not for gold trophies, but to say, 'I was here'.
And with that, I leave you with this last thought,
If everything is nothing, then why not make this everything.
Undoubtedly Yours,
Bermuda
This morning I want to depart from where my colleagues have taken their own blogs and take you down the untrodden path to my inner-spirit. And in doing so hope to expose you, my fellow contributors, to the beliefs on which this magazine was founded.
As Director of Public Relations it is my job to up hold the character and promote the brand of A Few Lines magazine. But in order for you understand the character of this magazine, I must first give you some personal narration on one of its creators.
I was diagnosed at the age of two with an auto-immune disorder called Alopecia Areata. The direct effect of this disorder is complete hair loss. So as many you have noticed, from the coffee shop readings or the booth we just recently had at Cal Poly Pomona, I do not have any hair anywhere on my body.
(I bring this piece of information up only so you can better understand the soul of this magazine)
I went through periods of my life where I felt ashamed, cast out, banished to the undergrounds of society. I soon turned away from the external world and moved inward. It was in this place of self-exploration where I developed my voice. The internal dialogue rambling in my head, describing things in its own neo-transcendental style. I went on like this till college; till I became an English major.
The written word became a way for me to transfer my thoughts into the here and now. I was able in just a few lines to capture images of fancy and thoughts of wildness, going on in my soul, down on paper. The illumination of this underground individual expression occuring in my soul was powerful. I wanted everyone to experience this feeling of true-self ejaculation. I wanted to bring people together under the common ground of self-expression and give you a place to share your thoughts on our ever converging world.
We are not elitists, but we do hold ourselves and the submissions we receive to a higher standard. Not because we want to be better than others, but because we believe truly great art comes from a desire to express which is most true to your self.
We look for the boldly unique, the pieces that speak more of the author's heart and mind than of the books he has read.
By Underground, We mean those who wish not for fame, but for the meager gain of personal satisfaction. Not for gold trophies, but to say, 'I was here'.
And with that, I leave you with this last thought,
If everything is nothing, then why not make this everything.
Undoubtedly Yours,
Bermuda
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)