Bio

Born in the heart of an empire, leenie.bean grew up under the influence of the patois of a land that sprouted from a mango seed a goddess spit into the warm of the ocean. Yearning for sun whiskers on her shoulder, her mother prepared the nest with cranberries and fried plantains and journeyed across the sands of galaxies to a cluster of cotton known as the South (better understood as the Soufh). Nestling in the afterthoughts of a larger struggle, the family was lain down, gently, broken; continued with life’s forward movement. As a child, leenie.bean rolled around in the forever summertime, running along the neverending honeysuckle laced fence that encased recess in the 3rd grade. She married a teddybear in her favorite denim overalls but still wandered to the falling waters of the fountain of mis-self-understanding. Once her barbie dolls were too deformed to play with, she dressed herself in her mother’s clothes, and while they lined her frame snug, they hung limp without the skin of a woman to unlock their secret.

Around this time, her eyes started to develop, so her ears shifted frequencies; she could no longer hear herself think. It just so happened that without her knowledge, destiny whispered folded truths into her breakfast to lead her into a garden in Decaytur, Gawja. In this garden, she found fellowship gathered at the roots of all green life, from magnolias down to the daisies; within the aroma of the circle, she finally learned to breath underwater. The Guidance in such a place, a very special and vital place if one considers the Universe, stripped leenie.bean naked so she could find the rest of what she was looking for. During this time, she also took a bike ride through planet earth. The hotspots scorched her memory with things quickly forgotten, yet kind southern belles, jezebelles, medusas, and other “fallen”  risen types ailed the raw wound and kept her hymns company while it healed over into a shield, which she gladly shares.

Soon after these adventures, she found a rocket. She tied it to the underside of her bike, lit the fuse, and ended up miles away from home in Madrid, Spain.

The end of this story has already been written. The in-between is being made up as I go along.

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