When I was dreaming about what I wanted my future blog to be, I went through a series of discussions with friends, family members who are my friends, and of course my bearded husband to discern my platform, my voice, my raison d’etre– if you will. And this is what we found:
I am continually and surprisingly drawn to this idea of place. The concept that your geography, which is also your community, your culture, and the home and resting place of your spirit, shapes the content you create, the way you speak, the food you eat, and for me, the words I write.
The more enamored I have become with the old Southern gothic, the more I wish to contribute, in my way. In a modern way. In a way that gives homage to the past, and places us directly within the present. I’ll take the food, and the hospitality, and the casseroles, and the drawls, and the bayous, and the slowness, and the beauty. But I’ll also take the history of injustice, the dark past, the troubled economy, the moonshiners, and the rural Appalachia poverty.
Because there is something in the South about taking both. The good and the bad, the sweet bread with the bitter wine. The dogwood blooms with the whiskey.
And there is something about being a Southern woman that takes the steel with the magnolia. And honestly, I wish to be both. But, at the end of the day- although I can put on a nice dress, and bake a damn fine pie- I am more whiskey. A little brash, a little opinionated, a little I’ll take my bourbon neat, type of gal.
Hence, The Stillhouse. It will be my place to explore my voice which is a product of this land, this bucolic irony of tobacco farms and bible belts. I will still write about all that love– community, family, faith, food, etc. This is only a new platform, with a bit more clarity.
This is my modern, Southern, female voice. And that’s all for now. Please follow along, and I promise I won’t quote Flannery O’Connor everyday.