While my world spins and spins, and I’m caught between deadlines both personally and professionally inflicted, I thought I’d post some worthwhile readings as I find them. I’m syphoning now, between how I do it, this life and work thing. Writing here and there and everywhere and how to yet maintain my life– my marriage, my service, my family, my commitments, my love to bake and my passion to read. More on this topic later, perhaps when I solidify some answers. Or, perhaps, just materialize more of my questions.
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Anyway, this is a worthy piece to read when you have a moment. I have a particular interest in prison reform, and one of the reasons I’ve admired Johnny Cash so deeply is to see this same particular interest embodied. I love that he advocated for humanity among the prisoners. I love that he treated them like people. And I love that he gave them songs, and his presence.
There’s something about Johnny Cash’s relationship with the prison system that seems so inherently Southern. It’s that disposition to enter the darkness, so to speak, that is found so salient in Southern life. Not that Johnny Cash actually “shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die,” but in his ability to connect with that dark part of himself– the part of himself that does have the propensity to do such an act, but still is held within restraint and virtue– is this Southern Gothic we (I) love. Not concerned with only what we do, but what we are capable of.
The man in black knew about this.