Pamela Leavey

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Category: Creative Non-Fiction

I Will Not Sell My Soul

September 8, 2015

My journey on the path of feminism, the goddess and women studies started decades ago. Poetry has often been an outlet of expression for me, since I was a child. The following is a piece from my journals expressing my thoughts on the divine feminine and my rights as a woman to be free…

DivinefeminineLMBI will not sell my soul
To the Devil
Because,
As a woman
I am not free
To be me;
I will fight for my honor,
The freedom
To be me.
I will not hide who I am,
Change my dress,
Or my ways;
I am woman,
I was born free,
Free
To be me.
I will not watch what I say,
How I speak,
Or to whom;
I will fight for my honor,
The freedom
To be me.
I will not inhibit my sensual self,
Squelch my desires,
Deny my lusts;
I am woman,
I was born free,
Free
To be me.
Hear me now
You who be that devil,
Who wants to take
Hold of me;
I am woman,
I was born free,
Free
To be me.

Poetry: I Will Not Sell My Soul ~ © Pamela Leavey

Art: Divine Feminine by Lisa Marquis-Bradbury ©

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Matchmaker, Matchmaker Make Me A Batch

July 14, 2015

Years ago, I played matchmaker to two couples who are longtime friends. The two women in the couples are two of the closest friends that I have. I was instrumental in fixing up each of them with their husbands, earning myself the title of matchmaker. Back in the day, neither of my girlfriends liked to cook so when it came time to invite their new beau’s for dinner, neither of them felt confident enough in the kitchen to cook for their dates. They each called on me to come over and cook for them. My love of cooking spoke for itself in those days as I had three shelves of cookbooks and a library of Bon Appetite, Cuisine and Gourmet magazines on prominent display in my eat-in kitchen.

Mediterranean Chicken1Some thought should always go into what one might could for a potential suitor for the first time. I usually determine that a dish in the Italian or Mediterranean is typically a good bet for a first home-cooked dinner, after all everyone loves Italian food. As I look back now on this time so many years ago, I cannot recall exactly where my Mediterranean Chicken came from, I just know that it has evolved over at least two and half decades if not more, and it is perhaps one of my favorite meals to cook for family and friends.

There have been so many incarnations of this savory chicken dish in tomato sauce, which could have had its origins in a Provencal French bistro served with a warm baguette and a hearty glass of Cabernet. Cabernet pairs better with this meal in my opinion. Yes, custom would call for a glass Chardonnay with chicken but I prefer red wine and am oft loathe to follow custom. Customs I believe are like rules, they are meant to be broken. Not broken is some blatant way but simply broken in such a way that invokes one’s own style. We are after all, all individuals, and our preferences come to the surface of the pot when we cook. (more…)

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Reflections: I Am Green

June 12, 2015

I am green in my understanding of life. I am always open to learning new things.

Forest Fern
Forest Fern

I am delicate like the fern, but hearty as the pine that stands tall and reaches for the sun. I have weathered many storms, but I still unfurl every spring laying out my delicate soul upon the forest floor, reaching high into the sky to soar with eagles. I am nature. Nature is me. I am green and I will grow until my day comes to wither and return to the earth.

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Exercises In Creative Non-Fiction: Let The Woman Scream

July 14, 2014

I recently finished my 5th semester in a row towards my B.A. in Creative Writing and Digital Age Communication. I’ve written and been published on a variety of topics and subjects over the past decades, but obtaining my B.A. always seemed to allude me.

Now with a few different writing courses under my belt, I am learning to understand my own varied writing styles, techniques, and issues surrounding the ever-present writer’s block. That said, pre-writing practices have become a huge part of my writing process.

This is a piece I wrote a few months ago, for an exercise called “Let The Woman Scream”: (more…)

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Sanctuary

November 8, 2013

Sanctuary

They were two friends who had known each other for four years and yet they were proverbial strangers. On the final day of summer, they prepared to ride out together on his highly polished black and chrome Harley Davidson towards the verdant coast of Cape Ann, to the port of Gloucester, Massachusetts. There were billowy cumulus clouds in the sky but still, the sun was shining fiercely. Even with the indulgent end of summer wind that bore the perception of fall in its flurries, it was the epitome of the perfect day for riding. She swung her right leg up over the seat, positioned her left foot on the foot peg and slid onto the back of his bike. Once positioned comfortably on the back seat of the rumbling Harley, he instinctively took his cue that she was ready to roll and they roared off in search of some succor for their solitary souls.

As they rode along the winding road to Gloucester, the lush green landscape showed an indication of the ambiance of fall colors to arise as the temperatures shifted with the season. Yes, the day was already holding the promise of fulfillment. Both of them appeared to be drinking in the scenery as though it were a snifter of fine cognac, the taste of which rolled onto their taste buds, washed down their throats and warmed their souls. Over the thunderous roar of the Harley engine, they conversed intermittently of the splendor of the diverse terrain where they dwelt. (more…)

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Comparison Essay: A Life in Two Cities

October 31, 2013

A Life in Two Cities

In the summer of 2008, I finally decided that I had had enough of living in Los Angeles.  The time had come for me to return to my native New England. However, instead of longing for the banks of the Merrimack River and the sandy beaches of my childhood in Massachusetts, I longed for the lure of the rocky, rugged coast of Maine. When the opportunity arose to move to that rugged Maine coast in Eastport, I was ready to make that leap with my nineteen-year-old daughter.

The irony did not escape me that we would be moving from one coastal corner of America to another. From the southwest to the northeast, or should I say, Down East, as Eastport, Maine is the easternmost city in Maine’s Down East region and the United States. This move from one city to another was not a mere cross-country relocation from one expansive city to another. Oh no, every aspect of Eastport was polar opposite from Los Angeles and I could not have chosen a more perfect place to detox our spirits after living in L.A. for nearly twenty years.   (more…)

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Musing and Rambling

Sometimes I muse and I ramble because I can... I muse about life and things that matter to me...

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