From: owner-jewel-digest@smoe.org (jewel-digest) To: jewel-digest@smoe.org Subject: jewel-digest V5 #122 Reply-To: jewel@smoe.org Sender: owner-jewel-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-jewel-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk jewel-digest Sunday, April 23 2000 Volume 05 : Number 122 * If you ever wish to unsubscribe from this digest, send an email to * jewel-digest-request@smoe.org with ONLY the word * unsubscribe in the BODY of the email * . * For the latest news on what Jewel is up to, go to * the OFFICIAL Jewel web site at http://www.jeweljk.com * and click on "what's new" * . * PLEASE :) when you reply to this digest to send a post TO the list, * change the subject to reflect what your post is about. A subject * of Re: jewel-digest V5 #xxx or the like gives fellow list readers * no clue as to what your message is about. Today's Subjects: ----------------- * Jewel Shares Her Soul (the article in O) [Giggly1021@aol.com] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Fri, 21 Apr 2000 16:01:56 EDT From: Giggly1021@aol.com Subject: * Jewel Shares Her Soul (the article in O) Jewel has been keeping a journal since she was a child, filling the blank pages of the sketch pads with drawings, poems, and stories about her life. "My journal has helped me stay in touch with who I most essentially am." Here, three excerpts. April 1996 I was stopped at a traffic light in Philadelphia. It was another town, another day, another drive in a record rep's car to another radio station so that I might sing for them in the hope they'd do more than offer me another sandwich. The window was rolled down and I drooped out of it. A beat-up old Chevelle pulled up next to me. It was some seventies shade of brown. The girl driving was looking straight ahead. She couldn't have been more than 19. I stared at her, admiring the brightness of her simple white cotton shirt against the dingy upholstery. Her hair was shiny and had been hastily combed into a messy pigtail. She looked over at me. I must have looked strange to her--a pale, scrawny girl with tired, puffy red eyes, crumpled in the front seat like a piece of paper. And her appearance certainly made an impression on me. She had a whopping black eye. Looked like yesterday's affair, but still pretty fresh. The whole side of her face was swollen. Someone had really put it to her. I wondered if she was on her way back to whoever did it, right now, with the groceries next to her on the seat. I wondered what could make her stay with him. I wanted to tell her to just keep driving until she got out of Philly--or until she got beyond the relationship that wounded her. She had the car. She had some gas. But, I thought, then what? Getting by in a place you know can be hard enough, especially for a poor young girl. How do you get by in a place you don't know? The light turned green. We drove side by side up the street, then turned our separate ways. Maybe she won't ever go near the person who did that to her. Maybe she just got in a fight with some girl. Rationalizing like this made me feel a little better, but I knew it changed nothing. Not really. my homepage: We Are EveryDay Angels check out my angelfood page, there's a link from my main page "But don't wander too far, My one constant star, Darkness exists, except where you are, My feet are filled with wandering, They follow your own, 'Cause everywhere you are feels like home." -Jewel, Last Dance Rodeo ------------------------------ End of jewel-digest V5 #122 ***************************