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Black - Finding Serenity

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Black Finding Serenity
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    Finding Serenity
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    T.E. Black Books
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    2016
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Finding Serenity: summary, description and annotation

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Part 1: Then: -- 1: Growing up as a musician in Detroit -- 2: Cass Tech High -- 3: Boston (1979-1988) -- 4: Making music, finding meaning (1989-2003) -- Part 2: Now: -- 5: Hope and new directions (2004) -- 6: Slowly contemplating Boston (2005) -- Move east: space, serenity, peace of mind and creativity, and an essay about arriving home -- 7: Life lived east (2006) -- 8: New essays (2006-2008) -- Days with Ornette Coleman -- Connecting jazz to contemporary culture: how are we making jazz culturally relevant? -- iPodology: what are we being asked to plug into? -- Hop aint hip without the music (or what happened with the music in popular culture markets?) -- Wrestling with a black aesthetic in contemporary living -- Aesthetics of sales in the contemporary marketplace post-2007 -- Closing argument on hip-hop -- Without fear of shame: the eighty-year-old debate -- American idle? -- Using your creative voices: an essay on race and artistic action -- Culture of conflict and confrontation -- Letter to my students -- Out of the woods with Bobby McFerrin -- Theres something new there, but you have to find it -- 9: Representing culture (2008) -- Homage to mentors -- Modern media music culture madness -- Audacity in hope -- Wow, mom, he looks like me (an Obama poem) -- 10: Reckonings and recognitions (2009) -- Alvin Ailey Dance Company and Sweet Honey in the rock -- Letter to Dr Ysaye Barnwell -- Michael dies -- Beer summit -- Great ones passing: Horace Boyer, George Russell, Hale Smith -- 11: Closing comments on culture: entries and essays (2010) -- Roots and reason series, concerts produced by Bill Banfield, interviewed by Leslie Mahoney, Berklee Faculty News -- Warmest December -- Dont use the J word: jazz connections to culture and meaning -- Bicycling in Bangkok: considering condition, context, challenge, conflict, change, charge, cash, comfort, and complacency -- Payoff: investing yourself in a multi-toned, voiced, angled, and cultured world (May 29, 2009) -- Baking of American music culture -- 12: Tag and Coda -- Part 3: When Again: -- 13: Artist photo profiles.;Book Description: In this collection of essays, interviews, and profiles, William Banfield reflects on his life as a musician and educator, as he weaves together pieces of cultural criticism and artistry, all the while paying homage to Black music of the last 40 years and beyond. In Representing Black Music Culture: Then, Now, and When Again?, Banfield honors the legacy of artists who have graced us with their work for more than half a century. The essays and interviews in this collection are enhanced by seven years of daily diary entries, which reflect on some of the countrys most respected Black composers, recording artists, authors, and cultural icons. These include Ornette Coleman, Bobby McFerrin, Toni Morrison, Amiri Baraka, Gordon Parks, the Marsalis brothers, Spike Lee, Maya Angelou, Patrice Rushen, and many others. Though many of the individuals Banfield lauds are well-known to most readers, he also turns his attention to musicians and artists whose work, while perhaps unheralded by the world at large, are no less deserving of praise and respect for their contributions to the culture. In addition, this volume is filled with candid photographs of many of these fellow artists as they participate in expressive culture, whether on stage, on tour, in clubs, behind the scenes, in rehearsal, or even during meals and teaching class. This unique book of essays, interviews, diary entries, and Banfields personal photographs will be of interest to scholars and students, of course, but also to general readers interested in absorbing and appreciating the beauty of Black culture.

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FINDING SERENITY
Copyright 2016 T.E. Black
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any medium, whether electronic, internet, or otherwise, without the expressed permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, locations, and names occurring in this book are the product of the authors imagination, or are the property of their respective owners and are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, or persons (living or dead), is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All trademarks and trade names are used in a fictitious manner and are in no way endorsed by or an endorsement of their respective owners.
Contains sexual situations, violence, intense drug use, sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and mature topics.
Recommended for age 18 years and up.
Cover Design and Formatting: T.E. Black
Model:
Rachelle Nicole Hoffman
Facebook Page
Website
Photographer:
Dave Kelley; Dave Kelley Artistics Facebook Page
Website
Editing:
Jenny Sims; Editing4Indies
Facebook Page
Website
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Sneak Peek
A Note To Readers
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Other Books
More Romance
Chapter 1
Buy Now
Mom, if youre reading this, please put down the book and go back to watching HGTV. I love you more than anything but Trent Wallace is not the man for you. Love you!
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change Courage to - photo 1
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; Courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.
Credit - Serenity Prayer
6 Months Earlier AAP Rocky - Fkin Problems I PARK MY truck in the shop - photo 2
6 Months Earlier
A$AP Rocky - "F**kin Problems
I PARK MY truck in the shop lot and rummage in my glove compartment for the keys to the front door. One would think I'd clean out the shit, but instead, I sort through old receipts and empty packs of smokes with ease. Ryleigh would have a fit if she saw this. She hates clutter almost as much as she hates my lifestyle, and thats a big fucking comparison. But as the only woman in my life, I want to keep her happy.
I snatch the pack, hopping out of the truck, and move toward the front door. I need to grab my stash from the office so I can forget whos been polluting my thoughts for the past five hours. Shay Kirby. The bitch I love to hate. I just met her, and I already can't stand thinking about how fucking sexy she is. Her attitude problem is almost as big of a turn-on as the giant set of tits she's rockin'.
As I reach the front door, the shop light is on, illuminating the lobby with a soft glow. The bitch had better not have left the light on or she's paying the fucking bill. I unlock the door, stepping inside while the overhead bell dings above me. I decide someone is here. I hope Gunner isn't banging some bitch in the back room or the lobbyor anywhere, for that matter. But better to be safe than sorry.
With a steady pace, I move through the shop like a burglar in the night. The rustle of paper from the storage room alerts my instincts, and I move toward the closed door. I stand by the door with my ear pressed against it listening for movement again. Just as Im about to call this all paranoia, I hear it again. Swish.
My hand flies around to the pistol sitting in a holster on the back of my jeans. The moment my fingers graze the cool metal, a deep breath whooshes from my chest. My piece collects my nerves and tosses them in the gutter. It calms me. I know I can do more damage with it than the person on the other side of the door can manage.
Pulling it out, I size up the door for the perfect spot to kick it open with my boot. But just as I'm ready to break the fucker down, the door swings open, and my pistol instinctively points itself at the lucky bastard walking out.
"What the fuck, Trent! Why is there a fucking gun pointed at me! Is this some joke?"
You have to be kidding me. Shay.
One would think she'd be cowering in the fucking corner, but instead, the tough bitch is standing with her hands on her hips, staring down the barrel of a nine millimeter as if it's no big thing. Dammit all to hell. I'd be a fool to deny it doesn't make my dick hard as a fucking rock.
"Jesus Christ, Shay! What the fuck are ya doing here this late? I could have fucking shot your crazy ass!" I snarl, lowering my pistol.
She stares at me with squinted eyes and a look of disgust on her face. Well, I guess I pissed her off. She moves elegantly, never teetering on her black high heels as she walks past me, only to bump my shoulder on the way.
"I'm working! Your filing is a total shithouse and dont even get me started on the storage room! What the fuck are you doing here? We both made it clear. We should avoid each other for the rest of the time Im working here," she questions, no doubt adding up the ways she could kill me without being caught.
Her bitchy faade turns me on to no end as I watch her beautiful backside sway itself back to the reception desk. That ass right there is made for fucking, and if she ever wanted to explore her options, I'd be first in line to help her out.
I adjust myself in my jeans before following her to the desk. Leaning over it, I rest on my elbows.
"I'm here because I needed to grab something from the office, kitten. But, now, I see ya sitting there all pissy and hot, and I cant help thinking something else needs to be taken care of. We both know you want me to take care of it," I flirt, almost praying she freaks out as she did earlier.
Id never seen a woman do something so sexy. Normally, its too easy for me to get with women. You throw out a couple of cheesy lines and theyre dropping their panties right there in front of you. The chase with Shay is something different, which I've enjoyed.
She looks up at me through the rim of those black hipster glasses, eyes twinkling without her approval. Yeah, she wants it. So I keep going with my lines, praying we have hot, angry, I-hate-you-so-much-it-makes-me-want-to-fuck-your-brains-out sex on top of the fucking desk.
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