"The Beginning"

I started writing before I ever learned how to do anything else whether it was sports or various other hobbies. I kept this secret until 2001 when I was about 20 years old serving for the United States Air Force. At that time I read one of my poems to a lady 5 years older then I was and afterwards she was astounded. The poem was titled "Mental Love Making". When I was a child I was raised in a single parent home. Whenever my mother would speak to my father she would beg him to come and pick me up and spend quality time with me. My father would never come to get me when it is just us two. He would urge my older brother to come as well for extra company or something. I don't know. So we would all go do various things following going to my father's house. We would arrive to his house to sit down and relax. That is when my father would lay a pen and pad on the table and tell me to write him something. And I would, every time. He was usually preoccupied with what he was doing, because he was an artist, or he would do some activity with my older brother. It was during these times when I started writing. I've always been patient and quiet with my creativity. Until I moved to Nashville,TN I met some very artistic people that made a major impact in my life. (They know who they are) I was around some of the most talented individuals that had no desire to be famous. From this point I made several appearances at local Poetry Lounge's and college functions. In addition I wrote and directed two plays; The Lamb's Lion (co-wrote) and The Watchmen, both performed for non-profit organizations. Around the same time I felt we could progress with various ideas we had, but after college our desires vanished for a multiple of reasons. So at the time I was in college studying for Biology to be a doctor. For one of my electives I made sure I enrolled in a Director's course my senior year. During the end of the semester the 10 minute play I directed was a success. Prior, other minor projects also occurred my sophomore year during a class I took called Black Arts and Literature. My Professor was a Nashville-native old man named Mr. Byrdsong. He was the type of guy that would inspire you just because of his passion for Black Arts and Literature. This class opened my eyes to literature and the power it gives. I was exposed to numerous amounts of Black writers and artists. Mr. Byrdsong never covered his students' visions. He just urged us to take it serious even though some students just wanted those 3 credits. I listened to Mr. Byrdsong and took it serious because his body language was priceless when we listened to Negro spirituals or when we read out-loud authors like Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston, or Alice Walker in class. The way he explained their work urged me to be on his level of understanding arts and literature. I'll be honest; I am not that far at my age. To be on his level I would be required to really sharpen my own skills and practice hard to appreciate what those before me accomplished. It will be an honor to be listed with the "Elites" in Black Arts and Literature but at this moment in time I most think small. I plan to patiently soak up information and continue writing until my lane opens. This is predestined to happen.