The 'She' Was Me

Sunday night, I was walking down the sidewalk (in a lovely part of town where I don't live), feeling preoccupied like I always am, when a pretty blonde woman, a total stranger, approached me.

Sidling up next to me, she asked, "How are your ears?"

Backing up, I scrunched my eyebrows, thinking, Weird, how does this lady know I was sick, and why is she asking about my ears. I shrugged and said, "Oh, you know, I was sick, and it's been a while, and they're still popping, and I went to the doctor, but she said it might take three months."

The blonde lady scrunched her eyebrows and responded, "Uh, the 'she' was me."

-- C.A. MacConnell


The trees and the wind make me feel like it's already October. I love this time of year. It's sort of magically spooky, yes. I like this poem, because it's chilling without even saying so...just subtle word choice. C.A.


Remember, we broke in.
Always, we were breaking.
In basements, your hands
made acrylic faces
come alive; all over
the walls, half-dripping,
they silently hovered,
frozen in looks of red
smiles and pretty holes.

Downtown, sporadic
rain landed on fingertips,
dying there. Weather
sent voices to the strange
trees. Blackbirds sifted
through leaves,
skimming city branches,
winging it through
the muck of dreams.

Flipping one coin
high into the real
trees, you made wings
scatter. The sharp, dark
shapes surrounded us.
Remember the way
they flew -- the blurry
noise, and all at once,
the stunning scream.

C.A. MacConnell


Photo: Me + Q

Thinking of this guy today. Actually, I probably think of him everyday. I check to see if he's sold every now and again. Kinda grainy, but I love this photo...I'd buy him and change his name if I could, although he's a rascal. That's why I like him. He's just a little off, somewhat weird, moody, too smart for his own good, good looking, self-centered, and fierce...you know, perfect. :) He does have a weak left hind, but I could fix that.

C.A. MacConnell


Photo: Hats. 'Iron Jawed Angels' and CWC


The photo is a reference to the theme of "different hats," one symbolic journey (of many) that ran through Iron Jawed Angels, a film directed by Katja Von Garnier. Last night, I was privileged enough to catch a one-time area showing of this movie. With top notch acting, the film was inspiring, smart, disturbing at times, and thought-provoking. At different points, I squirmed, I smiled, I cried, you name it. Truly an emotional journey.

The screening was held on the historic Showboat Majestic, a National Historic Landmark, the last and oldest American floating theater (she was born in 1923). The experience was quite unique, because while I was watching the film, I could feel the boat move here and there, which startled me each time.

Thanks to Cincinnati World Cinema, the event organizers, a group of steadfast volunteers who continue to bring wonderful films to the area. In addition, they were the impetus for the new local organization Women in Film (WIF). I'm an avid supporter of CWC. I minored in Film in college, and I've always been a film lover/supporter. At the CWC events, I've never been disappointed. If you enjoy cinematic art, check out their site for future events.

Recently, this region has been quite popular for the film industry. It's refreshing to see the creativity roll in, and it's lovely to hear about the way that national artists are embracing the world around me, right in my "back yard," so to speak.

I hope one day to have a small back yard. Fenced in for the dog, probably a big, kind mutt. <3
C.A. MacConnell


Photo: Sky Tells.

Sky Tells

Today's Truth:  I wish the news (including my own brain's news) would always focus on every day miracles. When I see the beauty of the moment, there is no fear.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Our Time

Our Time

Seems like a simple image at first...gentle and bright, but I was taken by the light, and the shape, as well as the shadow. It's the little things...

Hope your day is rad. I wonder what's in store for my life next? :) God's time is a little slower than my time, ha, but I have more than a shred of hope.

Love! Love. Love? Love; that is, love. (It's National Punctuation Day)
C.A. MacConnell


Photo: Self, Thumbs Up.

Good morning. Or Good evening. Whatever the time may be for you. This shot accurately describes my mood, for sure, ha. I just finished reading The Book Thief, which is genius; it took me a long time to read it, because I really savored every line. Now I'm reading a young adult book that's starting off really creepy, but it's pulling me in nonetheless. After that, I'm diving into a mystery, and then a memoir. Mixing it up. Always learning.

Hey, this photo will be worth at least $5 someday.
-- C.A. MacConnell


Good Morning!

This is me, C.A. MacConnell. My hat size is 7 3/8 (no joke). There's room for a lot of information up there. This is what I look like a lot in real life (note the nose sweat) when I'm not wearing my heels and skin tight skinny jeans and silk shirt (joke).

Have a good day. Time to write. Love, C.A.


Current Writing News & Photo: Bee


Actually, there was a wasp on here too, but he was hidden. So I was looking at this bee, mulling things over, like I do. My goal is to get book 3 published (my young adult novel), and then go back and get book 2 published. Maybe all of this is out of order, but that's the plan in my head. We shall see. They're both slick, though, ready to go. But I'm still considering routes...not clear on it all yet. Three books! Rockin.

Hey, people are loving my book #1, GRIFFIN FARM, which was published in late 2013. The feedback has been outstanding! It's funny, though. Sometimes, people come up to me and say things like, "Oh, I'm so sorry about...." and then they mention something from the book, like they assume that every single detail of my character Mary's life is the same as mine. I just laugh and shrug, but it makes me happy to know that my characters come alive like that. :) Perfect.

Yo, if you read it, put a comment and rating on Amazon! That would be truly awesome. Any help with promotion is appreciated -- Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, tell your mom and all your friends, make an "I love C.A.'s book" T-shirt, get a huge back tattoo of my book cover, etc. Just suggestions.

Wish me luck as I continue on my artistic journey. Luck, magic, or any kind of strange "good vibes" ritual would be appreciated. A rain dance, something of the sort. And good luck to you on your journey, whatever you wish to do, whatever makes your heart sing, whatever makes you feel absolutely rad.

Hey, much love. I don't know about you, but if I start eating candy corn, it's a disaster, and now they have peanut butter candy corn, which is the devil reincarnated. Also in the news -- I finally got a new coffee pot, which is amazing. The burner on my old one was so charred that it was red instead of the proper black color, and the possessed machine made weird sounds and sparks. Other than that, I'm just grateful to feel well today and grateful to be alive, which...in my book...is big-time.

Hooray, I am big-time. My ears are popping. Does that mean someone's thinking of me? Or does that just mean that I can hear better?

C.A. MacConnell


Sunday Haiku

Sunday Haiku

You Hear Sleepy Trains
They Wake Me

C.A. MacConnell


My Writing Partner

The expression is priceless. I intend to convert all those who don't appreciate cat pictures. Who can resist this guy, Kylin, my writing partner? Anyway, just thought I'd share. He deserves a medal.

C.A. MacConnell

It's Probably Nothing

Often, Dad and I get together and eat snacks and watch Seinfeld reruns. So last night, we were sitting on his couch, eating pints of frozen stuff, talking about things like getting older and thinning skin and mole checks and skin dropping on the eyelids and our asses falling off. Then we moved into the territory of "What's this thing on my skin?"

Dad asked me, "See this red mark on my cheek?"

I said, "Oh yeah, I have one on each arm. Had two moles removed. Four total."

"Well, I went to the doctor, and she looked at it and guess what she said?"


"She said what you never want to hear from a doctor. She took one look at it and said, 'What the hell am I going to do with that?'"

"Are you serious?" I asked, grinning.

"Oh yeah, then they tested it and told me it was nothing, but I had to use that face cream, remember that?"

"Yeah, it made your face fall off," I stated.

"Right, but it took care of this thing on my cheek," he said.

"But it's still there."

"I know," he said, laughing. "But she said it was nothing, I dunno. See this thing on my hand?"

"Yeah, what's that?"

"Nothing," he said, laughing again. "I got it checked out, and they told me it was an allergic reaction to the cats."

"We get all this stuff checked out, and back in the day, they never got anything frozen off or whatever...what did they do?" I asked.

"They just died," he stated, laughing.

"Oh, right," I said. "Actually, they probably ate better stuff, so they didn't get any of these things."

"Probably," he said, digging into his vanilla dream.

Then we heard a large crash come from somewhere inside the house. On the couch, we sat there, and for a minute, we both ignored it. We didn't even budge. We were too into our snacks.

Finally, I asked, "What the hell was that?"

Dad answered, "I dunno. Sounded like something fell over. Or somebody knocked something over, who knows."

"Yeah, maybe someone's in here," I said, still eating my snacks.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, still eating his snacks.

"Maybe we should check around," I said.

"Probably," he agreed.

Finally, after about ten minutes of discussing it, he headed toward the alarm.

"Dad, if you turn on the alarm, and someone's in here, they'll be trapped in here," I said, laughing.

"Oh yeah," he said, turning it on anyway.

Still holding our snacks, we both started to look around the house. Slowly, but surely, we scanned the rooms.

"Did you check the basement? All the closets?" I asked.

"Not the basement, but I looked in the showers and stuff," he said.

"Oh, that's good," I commented. "What about the back deck?" I asked.

"Oh yeah. Let's look."

So we stared out the windows, but we didn't even turn on the back lights.

"Hey, you think he could be in the basement? Didn't sound like anything came from the basement, though," I said.

"Yeah, I'll go down," he muttered. "Let me find a flashlight."

"Why don't you just turn on the lights?" I asked.

"Right, I could do that," he said.

"Dad, it's not Silence of the Lambs," I said. "You don't need a mask to see in the dark. But you might need that flashlight as a weapon."

"I'll just turn the light on." Then he stuck his head in the basement door and went, "Hello?"

He looked at me and shrugged.

I shrugged.

"Hey, one time, this cop Tonya came over because the alarm went off," he said.

"What happened?"

"Well, would you believe while we checked around the property, Tonya had me walk first. I was like, hey, Tonya, you're supposed to go first, aren't you?"

I laughed hard. "She's smart."

"I guess," he said, chuckling.

"What did Tonya find out?"

"Nothing," he answered.

"What do you think that sound was...that was so loud!" I commented as we went back to the den and our snacks. "And for sure, it was in the house."

"It wasn't that loud, was it?"

"It was loud. And it was in the house."

"Oh well, who knows," he said.

We sat on the couch and talked about the noise and our skin some more, and then we just ate some M&Ms. We talked so long, we never got around to watching Seinfeld.

After about ten minutes of silence, Dad said, "Probably nothing."

-- C.A. MacConnell

Have a great day. I am exhausted from sugar, ha. I woke up, looked at myself, and thought, geez, I looked a hell of a lot better yesterday. Much love to you. Alive is beautiful. Celebrate and tell someone you love them. I love a boy with a Mohawk who gave me his phone number, all caps. Actually, I just made that up, but its in my memories. I never forget certain images, like handwriting. <3



Today's Truth:

From the Oxford Dictionary:

ac·cept·ance [əkˈseptəns] NOUN
-- the action of consenting to receive or undertake something offered
-- the action or process of being received as adequate or suitable, typically to be admitted into a group
-- agreement with or belief in an idea, opinion, or explanation

“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.” -- J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

C.A. MacConnell


Photos: Fall to Touch

 Fall to Touch

Fall to Touch 2

Good morning. Fall's comin. I'm continually amazed by the little things. I hope that you are well and happy, whatever you're doing. I'm gonna keep trooping along, regardless of unanswered questions. I wonder what the universe has in store for me today? :) Hopefully, magic. It's weird. I've had two dreams about alligators -- in one, I was swimming with them. In the other, I had a pet alligator. I wasn't scared of either dream. In fact, I was tellling people not to hurt my alligator. Hey, yesterday I saved a daddy long leg.

Love to you,

C.A. MacConnell


Photo: Rush Hour

Rush Hour

"Reading into shit makes me both a genius and a nincompoop." -- C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Nineties, Short Vine, and a Poem.

Nineties, Short Vine

I have a fascination, and a deep heart-tug that lingers, when it comes to the nineties, which is probably why I still dress like it's that time period, ha. Also still love the music of the era. During that time, I followed Pearl Jam, and I saw a number of their shows -- Louisville, Cincinnati, Seattle, Charleston, to name a few. Louisville was my favorite show. I rarely had a ticket; I just always got in for some reason. I also saw every other music act you can imagine. Red Hot Chili Peppers, Ani Difranco, Tool, Pantera, Phil Collins, Elton John, Ice Cube, Seal, Def Leppard, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, and Nine Inch Nails are a few that stand out, right off the top of my noggin. There were so many. I haven't seen a show in a while. In recent years, the last shows I saw that were great were The Black Keys, Ray Lamontagne, Fiona Apple, and Heartless Bastards. <3 The Black Keys. Hope you like the poem. Kinda gritty. C.A.


Deep, low, and rumbling, through thick lips,
your voice poured out like the lonely cave
echo. After rolling, star years on the rising
road, some days your sound slid into a sleepy
whisper, a gravelly grumble, a drowsy drawl.

Bad nights melted into sick mornings, but you

were alive, young, and the songs were clear.
Each show, you fought the mean crowd's
undertow, and how the wild, slippery fingers
grabbed at your long, dark hair, tearing out
pieces. Skin and nails were lost and found,

becoming souvenirs, and after a while,

when you were beaten by the relentless war
of touch, you didn't feel it; you were all
so skinny and numb. All around, wide-eyed
officers brushed knuckles against cuffs,
slapping palms against sticks, caressing

tasers and guns. When all crowd mouths

opened, when all heads tilted, when all eyes
looked up, watching you climb into the rafters,
creating a massive yawn, a gaping world,
the unexpected tour of all tours, everyone,
even the largest men, reached for you.

C.A. MacConnell


Photo: See You Soon

See You Soon

I admit there's nothing really special about this in terms of technique, shock value, or "oohs" or "ahhs;" however, this is one of my favorite meadow shots I've taken, just because of the feel. See, today, I was having a rather difficult morning, and in the afternoon, on a walk route I've done many times before, I happened to take a detour; I walked through a tiny, narrow trail, and when I came through the tricky trees, this unbelievably beautiful, well-hidden meadow opened up before me. I smiled wide. I admit if felt like magic. Untouched, it stretched for miles. And I saw a huge hawk shape in the trees. Do you see it?

Anyway, it touched me, yeah. Hope it brightens your day. Have a nice evening.

C.A. MacConnell


Photo: Break


Today's truth:  God gives me a break every day I wake up. I've had some close calls, and I've tested this earth, and the earth has tested me; this morning is a gift, and it's a true miracle that I am alive. I hope your day is full of joy, laughter, love, and light. Look at the trees reach for one another, without a second thought, without judgment. It is pure community, pure love. A wise man once said, Nature is our teacher.

Thoughts with anyone affected by 9/11, and thoughts with all those suffering from the long-term aftermath that comes with any past trauma, whatever the source and cause. Amen.

C.A. MacConnell



In case you didn't know this, I am the stuffed animal claw machine champion, despite the evil, pre-meditated, horrific tricks of that bastard who fills the machine. To those who frequent the game section of the grocery, the machine filler man is also known as Johnny "Hacksaw Two Fingers" Claw. Admittedly, J.C. is a sneaky go-getter, and at times, he has gotten the better of my quarters, but in the end, his moves have proved to be a complete failure. Over time, old J.C. tried to pull numerous fast ones over on me, namely the following:

1. Stuffing the animals down tight so they'd supposedly get jammed and never come out.
2. Hooking the claw on its own cord (definitely the most terrifying technique).
3. Filling the machine to the brim so there was no way to grab anything.

Well, let it be known, right here, right now, that despite all of his torturous tactics, I still won. See, it's all about the timing. Patience, patience, and just when the moment is right, J.C. gets lazy, and that's where I come in, using my sheer dexterity and unsurpassed charismatic style to grab the afore-pictured (best animal in the machine) neon orange gorilla.

I think I'll put him next to the lion,
C.A. MacConnell