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be kind
be kind to everyone along the way. we are all on the same journey Saying so long to an incredible Aunt this week. one that lived a full life of love, music, good food, family, and laughter. celebrating her wonderful life this week, with love,music,good food, family, and laughter!. My beautiful Aunt Virgina (rip my Angel). joined our Angel family in heaven this week. every time we lose another leaf from our family trees,the sadness is large, yet, when you are positive that, that one life will always be the mighty standing oak in our memories, then our lives go on. We all will be mighty oaks one day, barren of leaves, at times, at other times, in full bloom, in full spring. We are all on the same journey. Our roots are deep. treasure each day, each season, each phase of the seasons. on the horizon, there are many different colors of trees, all sharing this life ,be kind to all the trees, all the folks, all of our human family. We are no different than trees… grander plan than our day to day. I spend mine in kindness. I learned it ,from the source. RIP Aunt Virginia. I love you.
the land locked lonely
transitions of life that leave scars in your eyes, give surface to hurts that once were filled lies. If truth is a diamond, and love is pure wine, and fortunes are squandered for more precious time. If sunsets are golden, and clouds empty the rain, then fill right back up, why,can’t we do the same?. If promises broken, were never made twice, and if I was mean, when you thought I was nice. Then what is left in our coffers of gifts, but oceans of forever, and beaches eroded so swift. The land locked lonely, can plant more gardens of life, foundations for buildings to house more of the strife. Angels know why, we all have to fight, for at life’s end we will always choose flight. If Heaven is here, and hell is too. Why can’t we love stronger, when life is so short, why can’t we build more kind bridges, than harsh solid forts. …………. f,messina. 3.15.23
house of belonging
love, kindness, and respect. are the only visitors I am taking at my life’s door anymore.. if you aren’t carrying at least two of these.. find another “house of belonging”. We tried. Rocked back into my true being. Good luck in finding those in your life, that can wait for you to be loving, kind, or respectful. period.
For some it takes a long time to understand the basics of living and surviving with others. A healthy dose of .. chill out .had to be said. With age these things become matras of what you will accept in your life and thus creates peace. I am still searching for more peace. Some folks, still want to live in a state of sabatoge, and well. I am not their sabotage funnel anymore. . I miss you. My soul needs connection to truth. Life moves fast, caring hearts thrown ahead in my path, are easier to tread through than cold ones.
i miss you
lingering love left lonely lifts lost languages laying lofty like ladybugs looking longingly at last, lounging. fresh found fruitful friends fathon forever for future frictions fade away fondly. yet it still hurts. i miss you.
bad art show memory
grateful for so many nice photos of the show.. this one of new friend and artist Raychel Tamron Lynn has me really happy.. this “shot”is the reason for all the hard work done by not only me but all my incredible friends that helped us pull it off.. “Happy Artist” More , I feel that art is our chance in life to escape to other places. I prefer those other places to bring joy, support, and love for what you do, by being not afraid to show your true emotions. I strive always to create environments that are not hostile, and mean spirited.. It is sad that others think that in order to make an impact your have to be harsh too.. That may work in business, and the “Cold” world of 9-5.. when we are all in “Survival mode” ( we all have our bills and common problems) Some think that I am too positive always.. well I am just being REAL and since I have worked so hard at achieving a state of “individuality of self” and ” celebrating self” at the Apartment E events.. Photos like this just let me know that my dreams are right on target. Negativity” can just not look my way…! .because I am not looking at him.. . Nice to meet you Raychel, hope you had a great time, and met a lot of new people.. thank you everyone for supporting Apartment E, The Imperial, City of Sanford, All the Orlando area venues that support art shows, and thank yourself for being open minded and real. and to let “creativity “do some work on it’s own.. and inviting you in to play in his world.. peace ,love and art to you all. ,frankie
music is life
just when you think you ran fast enough, just when you think the race is won, you meet up with sprinters, ones knowing their game, the top line of the music chain, the longing of others to catch up with your game. Running to catch up , you trip on new friends,,, then something clicks inside that gives you hope for new notes, new melodies ,new beats,. New strums of a guitar that speaks only when poked. In lovely new songs, in banter and smiles, in getting the sound right, and giving it all.. In shaking hands of a new band on a break, and knowing those hands just caused verses to sound great. I only wish to be giving my support,my role is small it is of a loving new fan. one man on a wed, stopping in for one, then getting much more, avoiding the conflict, putting rest the hurt. Run Raquel gave me reasons to filter the bad parts of the day……. and it was nice to hear them, under a harvest moon, giving a cool city, some bright shining solution…. to what is right in front of your faces.. …. (written after seeing another great set of live music at The Imperial… this time Run Raquel) f.messina (c) 6.13.18
the blurs
Celebrating the blur of life. the unexpected is most times the best part. Relax your expectations. Let life “take” you. Hurts a lot less, when your expectations of others are tainted. It’s less a shocker, if you leave room for error, for risk, for let-down. Some people just don’t hold you as close to their heart,as you thought they did. Some people find it easier to say goodbye. To close the door, to leave. Others will come into your room, others will occupy space, but none will fill some pockets of memories. Like those first friends. The one’s that I call “golden”. Lucky is the man, who has one golden friend. Till the end. cheers to the blurs!. I will never forget you.
last visit
that time i realized that people needed to see this picture .. knowing they would think that i just stepped out of the shower at my friend’s house in mississippi. and thinking . well he is just naked.. and being dramatic… No…………….. it was the moment i knew that it was the last morning I would say goodnight to my friend of 25 years.. for i knew he was dying of a slow brain disease…. so i took this honest shot of the last time in that weekend. of that last time with my friend.. life moves fast friends… please. tell your best friends that you love them. you love the moments with them. you love them, their music, their art. their expression…. and NOW you all know where APARTMENT E came from. it came from “friends”.. as you have………………………….. we are all APARTMENT E…..
cold air blows
cold air blows in warm memories. Remember that time we walked through the woods back of the house, trying to see how far we could go to be away from all the people and the distant roar of the highway, and horns. I reached for your hand to help you leap over the frozen trench, and when we landed both feet safe with a crunch of ice, you also stole a bunch of my frozen heart. I just can’t forget that first kiss, in the cold fading sunlight. In the woods that day, no one else, was on the face of the earth, and in the space of our new found love. I hope someone is warmed tonight by your fire in your eyes that I fell into as we opened them back up in a firestorm of new emotions. I wonder if you remember that walk in the woods as I do. . It haunts me, yet I welcome it. One day it may return, with another. Next time I will know where the trail should end, and never let you go. cold air blows in warm memories.
party lines
…we called them telephones back when we spoke with nervous air. muttered..daddy? are you there? told to speak to your aunt on her birthday, and give “over the line” kisses to the new baby. We held the receiver so tight not wanting to be the first to say goodnight. that once valued tool, that gave voice to love and fools. I knew 50 numbers by heart, never called anyone past 10 from the start. Ended on questionable bad notes with the dead dial tone as my final answers. Got calls from wrong numbers then asking,well who are you? , do you matter? Got a call from old man Joe from Joe’s drink and eat, says a new steel tower is going up, messing up his view to the sea, the beach,and even the street.. wondering why no one comes in anymore to chat on clean welcome seats.. little does he know.. people will forget in 30 years how to say hello!, how are you?and greet….. f.messina 1.11,15
Authentic Self
To be my authentic self, in times of high creativity, in times of solo reflection, in love, in misunderstandings of intentions, out of mind with more, in living with less, in moments when anxiety numbs normal movement, when you are understood without words, while avoiding the truth to protect others, when telling the truth will send others away, when I sit in solitude, or alone in a crowd. When authenticity is being played on a single scale, a one note metronome, this is the true path. That moment when all the world falls away, and caring for yourself gets it’s time. treasure that, for no man knows your song, your way of living. shaking the needle from it’s grooving trench plays someone else’s song. with accepted skips. Authentic self is a color that only you rejoice in. you know it when you stray from it.
the space between
“the space in between in silence, is the best defense. Listen more, hush. Let creativity work on itself sometime. Silence the trumpet, let the snare in. Allow the whisper to roar. Spirit needs room to guide. The heart nurtures us all. Believe in you.”
f.messina 1.11.23
Apartment E 