Have you noticed that life itself is a challenge? It begins with conception and a life lived is a dress-rehearsal for something far greater. Whether the characters are real or imagined, there are hurdles to overcome. These challenges appear in everything that enters your sphere. Writing is a cleansing of the mind and heart; only then can you breathe. As you read, consider the allergories.

Let’s use flowers. They come in a variety of colors, shapes and sizes as do humans and they add to the plethora of beauty around us. Among them are poisonous, medicinal, thorny, sweet-scented or otherwise, pollen-bearing flowers; they exist and have a purpose in Yahweh’s creation. There are innumerable species of vegetation and animal life in our four elements, and the supposedly superior man is just another animal that shares the same space! One of the silliest things I’ve ever heard is the supposition that animals can’t think. I daresay animals do think. For the most part, they’re intelligent enough to avoid man. That’s smart, I think. For the most part, they have five senses as we do, or sufficiently effective ones, including a defense mechanism, to exist in this realm. And all living things share the same source of life; removed from that source, we all die.

Choosing what to write proves my need to utilize a built-in talent. My challenge is writing; it is also my gift. Yours might be mathematics or some form of art. Neither of us is better than the other because of our gift, but it must be shared. I can WRITE about your MATHEMATICAL genius by painting a PICTURE of what you do whether I understand it or not. Here, I’ve combined the three gifts though I, maybe, ‘specialize’ in only one. In other words, you can appreciate mine; I can be amazed by yours without having matching mathematical or artistic skills. I’m just glad that I can balance my checkbook and paint a picture you can understand with my words. Whatever our gift, together in this earthplane, it’s just another ingredient in this stew called life! The hurdles when overcome, strengthens us. You add spices to your pot, don’t you? Mmmmm, makes it taste better, too, doesn’t it? Doesn’t your sustenance strengthen you? So why not people? Of course, that’s for you to decide. The bottom line, mankind is in a sad state when he uses others as a ladder to make himself feel superior. I wanted to show the possibilities through another view – using those very things that makes us human, the things we consider important to show that love surpasses all things trite and temporal.

In writing [telling the story] Love Has No Color I had to face the challenge of addressing this bitter issue of color-prejudice. I won’t call it race, because no matter the hue, there is only one [human] race! The resolution? Through my characters I purported a better existence wherein people appreciate their ‘differences’ for the gift that it is. Because I write fantasies, the forum to create was opened up to me. Nanzee Johnson was exposed to this disease by her father who had suffered the same in his youth. His experiences taught her that hatred was not the answer; she also knew the myth of superiority was a farce based on greed and fear, designed to keep people separate and apart. Though she did not desire it, Nanzee meets the man of her unconscious dreams. Immediately she is bound to him and does not permit his color to deter her. Basil Barden was a man of a different ilk and disdain for others not of his color was never a part of his life.

That’s it for now…I leave you with the thought: We are all on the same road; it has an end but two final destinations.