Preface
Conjuring Truly Scrumptious & The Imagined Nation is my most selfish act, so far.
She is the eye of my storm, the safest place in the path of me, socially awkward, inappropriate, absent minded, addled optimism, misguided passion and chaos that must ensue so that something better can replace the ruins of what is no longer beneficial. When my world is filled with trouble, I stand in her gaze and rest. When I am troubled, she bears the brunt force of my pain filled cries and rants. I owe her this gratitude. And whatever this collection earns. If she’ll accept it, it is hers
I’ve spent years writing the fantasy journal of a composite woman, living in a composite neighborhood, filled with the wonderful elements of the city that made me. Everything I mention in my city is real and available in my city, I’ve just compressed it into the area of approximately one hundred city blocks. Fully knowing this woman, a towering, imposing, dark hued, full hipped goddess, would never be realized in flesh or be an intimate in my life, but would willingly, intentionally, willfully elect to influence the atmosphere I would help to make a reality for a real people.
Truly Scrumptious is not the name her momma gave her, nor a name she chose for herself, but a title she was coronated to mark a time in her life when she openly acknowledged that she is the most influential force in her universe. A time when the world conformed to her passionate desires.
I was only half right
This is the story of how the world expressing itself around her is being imagined, planned and constructed. In the letters she writes, long hand penned correspondences of her observations and encounters, written with perfumed ink on home pressed paper with threads of her own worn garments, embedded with mementos of “fond times”, sealed with wax, stamp and kiss. And the twisted perception of her awestruck, enamored, kind hearted jackass neighbor, the incorrigible Mister Periwinkle Bubbles.
With your help, perhaps the Imagined Nation will be realized in my lifetime.
She took off her dress and I took a peek…
Prince
…My mic sounds nice ‘cuz I’m high now.
De La Soul
