JUNE NINETEENTH ONCE AGAIN

("Slavery!Slavery! Presenting a GRAND and LIFELIKE Panoramic Journey into Picturesque South Slavery of 'Life at ‘Ol’ Virginny’s Hole’ [sketches from Plantation Life] -- See the Peculiar Institution as never before! All cut from black paper by the able hand of Kara Elizabeth Walker an Emancipated Negress and leader of her Cause" -- cut paper on wall, 12 X 85 ft., 1997, collections of Peter Norton and Eileen Norton, Santa Monica, California)

I slept over ten hours of uninterrupted, restorative sleep last night. It's only now, at 5:00 in the afternoon, that I've realized today is June 19th. A day of triple significance for me.

First of all, it's Juneteenth. I wrote about it last year and will direct you to that post for what I had to say: Juneteenth.

(Bill Barnett circa 1965, Dilley, Texas, age 8)
Second, on this day in 2001, shortly after noon, my little brother Bill died, alone and in horrific pain. I've written about him, too, at William David Barnett. It makes no sense to me that he's been dead eight years.



(Alice Neel. painter, self-portrait)
Finally, it was on this night three years ago that I had my first Ginny Bates dream, the dream that launching writing a book. I commemorated the anniversary of beginning the book in last year's post Happy Birthday, Ginny.

The past is not dead. It is not even the past.

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