about the Author
As you began reading Looking for Rainbows, may your heart be touched. May you laugh, and smile. But, should you be inclined to shed a tear as you identify with a poem's expression of pain, may you always remember to look for the rainbow that comes after the rain.
As a little child growing up in southwestern Virginia, in the Cumberland Mountains of Appalachia, I far too often heard my mother say, "Wait until the adults are through talking, and then you may have a turn."
Time and time again, she reminded me that I had to wait. Once I entered school, it would be different. Or, so I thought. There I would make friends with children my own age. Finally, I would talk to my heart's delight.
It didn't exactly happen that way. First grade frequently found me with my nose in a circle on the chalkboard, my hands behind my back, and me standing on tiptoes: the punishment for talking or whispering, or looking as if it were about to happen.
After graduating from Radford College, Radford, Virginia, with a Bachelor of Science degree in Education, I began a new life in northern Virginia.
In the ensuing years, as teacher, wife, mother and grandmother, I have enjoyed working with crafts and art, and painting, primarily with acrylics. Further studies included art and writing workshops. In 2005, recovering from bilateral knee replacement surgery, I enrolled in a memoir writing class.
Giving myself complete freedom to ride on the wind of creativity’s inspiration, I first wrote in notebooks, in journals, and on scraps of paper. The day I purchased my first computer my fingers rejoiced because they could better keep up with all the ideas and Voices that were begging to be given birth. Nevertheless, I had to navigate the travails of discovering how to use the computer. In short order, my computer became my best writing friend, along with fingers that could fly.
In the beginning, I wrote short stories. Then later, over a span of about ten years, I began painting, with words, if you will, the portraits of the voices that found themselves in the lines of my poetry.
For me, the passion I have for writing is like an eternal flame. Always, it is the light for my poetic path.
Could it be, that from my long ago childish need, my poems are the flowers that have come into full bloom? I would like to think so.
Jackie
