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Month: May 2019

MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS

skcasta, May 15, 2019

“As a writer, when you start scratching the surface of your own mental health you…

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KayCastaneda Author

kaycastaneda90

255 309

Emmie of Indianapolis: The Story of an American Girl

Dec 3

"Pray, Hope and Don't Worry" prayer of Saint Padre Pio
#saintpadrepio ##prayhopeanddontworry #decembergoals #writersofinstagram
#writerfriendschallenge #Irish music #writingcommunity #ilovechocolate❤️ #writingmotivation

"Pray, Hope and Don`t Worry" prayer of Saint Padre Pio
#saintpadrepio ##prayhopeanddontworry #decembergoals #writersofinstagram
#writerfriendschallenge #Irish music #writingcommunity #ilovechocolate❤️ #writingmotivation ...

0 1

Dec 2

These are a few of my favorite things. Penguins and snowmen. Books books books. Hot Chocolate.

#writersfriendschallenge #holidays #christmasiscoming #chocolatelover #ilovepenguins #letsbuybooks #mywishlist #writersofinstagram #readersofinstagram #christmastree #family❤️ #thesoundofmusic

These are a few of my favorite things. Penguins and snowmen. Books books books. Hot Chocolate.

#writersfriendschallenge #holidays #christmasiscoming #chocolatelover #ilovepenguins #letsbuybooks #mywishlist #writersofinstagram #readersofinstagram #christmastree #family❤️ #thesoundofmusic ...

1 0

Nov 21

Who are you? Where did you come from? Do you care? Family 🥰

#family #ancestry #genetics #ireland #dublinireland #familyhistory #grandparents #immigrants #corkireland

Who are you? Where did you come from? Do you care? Family 🥰

#family #ancestry #genetics #ireland #dublinireland #familyhistory #grandparents #immigrants #corkireland ...

4 0

Nov 15

You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.
Matthew 5:43-48
#Prayforpeace #stopwar #nomorehate #peaceonearth #warnomore #loveyourenemies #givepeaceachance

You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.
Matthew 5:43-48
#Prayforpeace #stopwar #nomorehate #peaceonearth #warnomore #loveyourenemies #givepeaceachance ...

5 0

Sep 6

Read my post about prayers and Saint Therese of Liseaux. Thanks!
Photo of Therese, age 20, in 1889 when she acted in a play about Joan of Arc.

https://bookplaces.blog

#bloggingcommunity #WritingCommunity #saint #strongwomen #faith #prayer #perseverance #believe

Read my post about prayers and Saint Therese of Liseaux. Thanks!
Photo of Therese, age 20, in 1889 when she acted in a play about Joan of Arc.

https://bookplaces.blog

#bloggingcommunity #WritingCommunity #saint #strongwomen #faith #prayer #perseverance #believe ...

5 0

Aug 13

The black sheep are the artists, visionaries and healers of our culture, because they are the ones willing to call into question those places which feel stale, obsolete, or without integrity. The black sheep stirs up the good kind of trouble. Her very life is a confrontation with all that has been assumed as tradition. Her being different serves to bring the family or group to consciousness where it has been living too long in the dark. As the idiom implies, she is the wayward one in the flock. Her life’s destiny is to stand apart. But paradoxically, it’s only when she honors that apartness that she finally fits in. The world needs your rebellion and the true song of your exile. In what has been banned from your life, you find a medicine to heal all that has been kept from our world. We must find the place within where things have been muted and give that a voice. Until those things are spoken, no truth can find its way forward. The world needs your unbelonging. It needs your disagreements, your exclusion, your ache to tear the false constructions down, to find the world behind this one.⁣

~ Toko-pa Turner. You can find Belonging here: https://amzn.to/45pZQqN

art | Caitlin Connolly
https://www.caitlinconnolly.com/about

#midwivesofthesoul #rebellion #beingdifferent
#voicescarry #unbelonging #healing #strongwomen #poetrycommunity #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram

The black sheep are the artists, visionaries and healers of our culture, because they are the ones willing to call into question those places which feel stale, obsolete, or without integrity. The black sheep stirs up the good kind of trouble. Her very life is a confrontation with all that has been assumed as tradition. Her being different serves to bring the family or group to consciousness where it has been living too long in the dark. As the idiom implies, she is the wayward one in the flock. Her life’s destiny is to stand apart. But paradoxically, it’s only when she honors that apartness that she finally fits in. The world needs your rebellion and the true song of your exile. In what has been banned from your life, you find a medicine to heal all that has been kept from our world. We must find the place within where things have been muted and give that a voice. Until those things are spoken, no truth can find its way forward. The world needs your unbelonging. It needs your disagreements, your exclusion, your ache to tear the false constructions down, to find the world behind this one.⁣

~ Toko-pa Turner. You can find Belonging here: https://amzn.to/45pZQqN

art | Caitlin Connolly
https://www.caitlinconnolly.com/about

#midwivesofthesoul #rebellion #beingdifferent
#voicescarry #unbelonging #healing #strongwomen #poetrycommunity #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram ...

5 1

Aug 12

Ireland Loves Sinead🩷 The message is visible from the sky.
Poem read at Sinead O'Connor's funeral by her brother Joseph, a novelist. #songforsinead #beautifulvoice🎤💕 #irelandsbest 🍀

BLACKBIRD in DUN LAOGHAIRE- a poem by Joseph O’Connor
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire
When I’m walking with my sons
Through the laneways
Called ‘The Metals’
By the train-tracks.
And he sings among the dandelions
And bottle-tops and stones,
Serenading purple ivy,
Weary tree-trunks.
And I have it in my head
That I can recognise his song,
Pick him out,
I mean distinct
From all his flock-mates.
Impossible, I know.
Heard one blackbird, heard them all.
But there are times
He whistles up a recollection.
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire –
And I’m suddenly a kid,
Asking where from here to Sandycove
My youngest sister hid.
I’m fourteen this Easter.
My job to mind her.
Good Friday on the pier –
And I suddenly can’t find her.
The sky like a bruise
By the lighthouse wall.
We were playing hide-and-seek.
Is she lost? Did she fall?
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire
And the terror’s like a wave
Breaking hard on a hull,
And the peoples’ faces grave
As Yeats on a banknote.
Stern as the mansions
Of Killiney in the distance,
As the pier’s granite stanchions,
And Howth is a drowned child
Slumped in Dublin Bay,
And my heart is a drum
And the breakers gull-grey.
The baths. It starts raining.
The People’s Park.
And my tears and the terns,
And the dogs’ bitter bark.
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire,
And I pray to him, then,
For God isn’t here,
In a sobbed Amen.
And she waves from the bandstand,
Her hair in damp strings,
And the blackbird arises
With a clatter of wings
From the shrubs by the teahouse,
Where old ladies dream
Of sailors and Kingstown
And Teddy’s ice-cream.
And we don’t say a word
But cling in the mizzle,
And the whistle of the bird
Getting lost in the drizzle.
Mercy weaves her nest
In the wildflowers and the leaves,
There are stranger things in heaven
Than a blackbird believes.
– Joseph O’Connor, 2010

Ireland Loves Sinead🩷 The message is visible from the sky.
Poem read at Sinead O`Connor`s funeral by her brother Joseph, a novelist. #songforsinead #beautifulvoice🎤💕 #irelandsbest 🍀

BLACKBIRD in DUN LAOGHAIRE- a poem by Joseph O’Connor
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire
When I’m walking with my sons
Through the laneways
Called ‘The Metals’
By the train-tracks.
And he sings among the dandelions
And bottle-tops and stones,
Serenading purple ivy,
Weary tree-trunks.
And I have it in my head
That I can recognise his song,
Pick him out,
I mean distinct
From all his flock-mates.
Impossible, I know.
Heard one blackbird, heard them all.
But there are times
He whistles up a recollection.
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire –
And I’m suddenly a kid,
Asking where from here to Sandycove
My youngest sister hid.
I’m fourteen this Easter.
My job to mind her.
Good Friday on the pier –
And I suddenly can’t find her.
The sky like a bruise
By the lighthouse wall.
We were playing hide-and-seek.
Is she lost? Did she fall?
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire
And the terror’s like a wave
Breaking hard on a hull,
And the peoples’ faces grave
As Yeats on a banknote.
Stern as the mansions
Of Killiney in the distance,
As the pier’s granite stanchions,
And Howth is a drowned child
Slumped in Dublin Bay,
And my heart is a drum
And the breakers gull-grey.
The baths. It starts raining.
The People’s Park.
And my tears and the terns,
And the dogs’ bitter bark.
There’s a blackbird in Dun Laoghaire,
And I pray to him, then,
For God isn’t here,
In a sobbed Amen.
And she waves from the bandstand,
Her hair in damp strings,
And the blackbird arises
With a clatter of wings
From the shrubs by the teahouse,
Where old ladies dream
Of sailors and Kingstown
And Teddy’s ice-cream.
And we don’t say a word
But cling in the mizzle,
And the whistle of the bird
Getting lost in the drizzle.
Mercy weaves her nest
In the wildflowers and the leaves,
There are stranger things in heaven
Than a blackbird believes.
– Joseph O’Connor, 2010 ...

7 1

Jul 27

By Kris Kristofferson, written after Sinead was boo'd off the stage at a Dylan tribute show, and Kris comforted her in front of everyone
🩷. RIP Sinead

I'm singing this song for my sister Sinead
Concerning the god awful mess that she made
She told them her truth just as hard as she could
Her message profoundly was misunderstood

There's humans entrusted with guarding our gold
And humans in charge of the saving of souls
And humans responded all over the world
Condemning that bald headed brave little girl

And maybe she's crazy and maybe she ain't
But so was Picasso and so were the saints
And she's never been partial to shackles or chains
She's too old for breaking and too young to tame

It's askin' for trouble to stick out your neck
In terms of a target a big silhouette
But some candles flicker and some candles fade
And some burn as true as my sister Sinead

- Kris Kristofferson, "Sister Sinead

#nothingcompares2U #artisticsouls #voicelikeanangel #mentalillnesssucks
#womenspeaking #voicescarry #dontstoptalking #singyourheartout #irishangel #irelandsbest #heartofbravery
#sisterangelheart #restinpeacesinead

By Kris Kristofferson, written after Sinead was boo`d off the stage at a Dylan tribute show, and Kris comforted her in front of everyone
🩷. RIP Sinead

I`m singing this song for my sister Sinead
Concerning the god awful mess that she made
She told them her truth just as hard as she could
Her message profoundly was misunderstood

There`s humans entrusted with guarding our gold
And humans in charge of the saving of souls
And humans responded all over the world
Condemning that bald headed brave little girl

And maybe she`s crazy and maybe she ain`t
But so was Picasso and so were the saints
And she`s never been partial to shackles or chains
She`s too old for breaking and too young to tame

It`s askin` for trouble to stick out your neck
In terms of a target a big silhouette
But some candles flicker and some candles fade
And some burn as true as my sister Sinead

- Kris Kristofferson, "Sister Sinead

#nothingcompares2U #artisticsouls #voicelikeanangel #mentalillnesssucks
#womenspeaking #voicescarry #dontstoptalking #singyourheartout #irishangel #irelandsbest #heartofbravery
#sisterangelheart #restinpeacesinead ...

8 5

Jun 14

What Happens To The Children?

Maybe she was one of the trafficked children I read about. Blond, about ten years old, a pretty girl. I noticed something odd about the way she looked at me. We both got out of our vehicles at the same time. She stepped down from the cab of a semi, that little girl could barely make her way down to the step so she jumped out and landed with a crouch the way a cat jumps down from a high place. Their knees bend and their feet stay gripped to the ground a half second later then spring forward before going full speed. The cat flees whatever was chasing it before they jumped. That's how the girl exited the semi. We were both walking into the rest stop on some highway in Tennessee or Oklahoma or Texas, I forget where. It was a rest stop built by the state for the convenience of travelers. She kept pace with me almost walking by my side as we made our way up the walkway toward the restroom. She followed me into the Women's Side and entered the stall next to mine. I think we opened our doors at the same time. A few minutes later, she followed me to the sink. I always took a look at myself in the mirror, I guess to see if I'm still there. As usual, I talked to whoever would be in the room with me.
"Look at my hair. What a mess. That's what happens on a long trip."

Read the rest of the story on Substack https://kaywriterwarrior.substack.com/p/what-happens-to-the-children

#childtraffickingexposed #savethechildren #sextrafficking #closetheborder #childpornographyischildabuse

What Happens To The Children?

Maybe she was one of the trafficked children I read about. Blond, about ten years old, a pretty girl. I noticed something odd about the way she looked at me. We both got out of our vehicles at the same time. She stepped down from the cab of a semi, that little girl could barely make her way down to the step so she jumped out and landed with a crouch the way a cat jumps down from a high place. Their knees bend and their feet stay gripped to the ground a half second later then spring forward before going full speed. The cat flees whatever was chasing it before they jumped. That`s how the girl exited the semi. We were both walking into the rest stop on some highway in Tennessee or Oklahoma or Texas, I forget where. It was a rest stop built by the state for the convenience of travelers. She kept pace with me almost walking by my side as we made our way up the walkway toward the restroom. She followed me into the Women`s Side and entered the stall next to mine. I think we opened our doors at the same time. A few minutes later, she followed me to the sink. I always took a look at myself in the mirror, I guess to see if I`m still there. As usual, I talked to whoever would be in the room with me.
"Look at my hair. What a mess. That`s what happens on a long trip."

Read the rest of the story on Substack https://kaywriterwarrior.substack.com/p/what-happens-to-the-children

#childtraffickingexposed #savethechildren #sextrafficking #closetheborder #childpornographyischildabuse ...

2 1

Jun 7

Post about your main character's morning routine. Twelve year old Emmie O'Brien must be responsible for getting her younger sister Janey to school. She also checks on her mother who often smokes in bed and changes her baby sister Cissy's diaper. Emmie must make sure everything is alright each morning.

#WriterFriendsChallenge Day 6 #emmieofindianapolis #youngadultfiction #comingofage #familystory #alcoholism
#sistersforever❤️ #sisters #indianapolisindiana #midwestgirl #indiana #neighborhood #schooldays

Post about your main character`s morning routine. Twelve year old Emmie O`Brien must be responsible for getting her younger sister Janey to school. She also checks on her mother who often smokes in bed and changes her baby sister Cissy`s diaper. Emmie must make sure everything is alright each morning.

#WriterFriendsChallenge Day 6 #emmieofindianapolis #youngadultfiction #comingofage #familystory #alcoholism
#sistersforever❤️ #sisters #indianapolisindiana #midwestgirl #indiana #neighborhood #schooldays ...

4 2

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