Bio - Roots

Bio - Roots

I have studied communications, writing, rhetoric, poetry, literature, philosophy, education, linguistics, culinary arts, hospitality science and food science. Most of my grass-roots appreciation has come from involvement alongside the Occupy Movement, Urban Pilgrimages with the Episcopalian Church, and the narrative that is native to the 

Sixth Street (6th St. Austin, Tx); Downtown Austin; the author, Awbrey Collins

live music capital of the world. Learned from Lucretian technique, a modern voice of affirmative language is trained into post-modern ethicism. Appealing to the narrative structure of philanthropic narratives, I have psycho-social tendency to reprieve well-invested wisdoms from wiser minds. Acculturating the natural developments in historical knowledge, and attracting poesy of heritage, tradition and family, I discovered a new approach to dialogue, in grammaracy, that developed these dialogs that speak well beyond the text. I hoist strong penmanship next to rowdier natures, and playhard institution's values.

Russel Sr.; Doc Collins; Shirley Collins

This is Doc Collins. He held Masters and PhD in dental surgery, he was the President of the Iowa chapter of the NAACP, Olympic qualifier, Tuskegee Airman and my grandfather. The images below have been provided as a visual aid for the many inspirations and guidance which have withstood the test of time-to-come.

In his will to overcome, a perseverance to the image. Passing-on an emulative voice, character and stability. We all share our great inspirations in legacy. He leaves behind inspirational truth, guidance and captivating image for emphasis: why, much more than history alone will bring us out of hardship!

Present for the forward of all-commons, allies, fights for just cause; the emulation of tradition is carrying on family legacy in widely-spread historical notion; which, we all should achieve, even when we try. Assured this attention, of instituting the very values which built progress, may it give flight to every day encouragement.

Tuskegee Airman
WW2 Airplane; World War Two Airplan; WWII
Tuskegee Airman class 45 - E; Moton Field, Tuskegee Institute; Mach 11, 1945

Essays - Back to Top


Time Spent at Boarding School

"That is not okay," a slap on the wrist, or a serious violation of what you cannot see. I perceive the verdict to be the vision, or are the jury of peers that drive hindrances on what is within? Philanthropic narratives are subsequent a social encounter, and it happens! Change comes from within, with a big heart and built understanding - if not song and carrying on. Happens at boarding school, forced social encounter.

I do not remember learning how to dance at a club, and when I first found salsa I was still dancing the two-step. I could not tell a difference as she spins. Moving art is an aphorism that catches the eyes of journalists. Those of their chosen a lasting experience, masquerade providence the printed impression. Living among the history that reminds of what makes people strong, and being the audience to that greatest live comedy show to come.

What I do remember most about boarding school, filling the shoes of giants and molding the shoulders that must uphold all of the advice I took for granted. It is like clones and potting plants. Of course, subtlety works! Still, a perception must bring food to the table. And, being blinded by looking, or taking from inheritance, at planning so far ahead... I think I planned for others. The awakening did not come from fighting, nor achieving.

Maybe it is my spilled cup of coffee... Where I was before is different from the information, that was knowledge, that was being trained to learn what I did wrong. And, the best advice was how we can go wrong with one person, the problem not knowing something is going astray. Consequences from continuing the same wrong, being humble.

How not to disturb yourself, when writing satire

I once roused at ears of editors, rather critics. Instead of my critics made to believing how good statesmanship and linguistics can create a colour, the more poetic of thoughts are the same insinuations of drama. I agree to disagree, that pandering for wonder is the constructs of contact, the contradiction. Inheriting the many critiques is as apart of what I noted to being an unnatural progression of publishing. As flourishes intertwine, pronunciation and annunciation mix. Masquerading as entitlement became a responsibility of a more obvious audience, whom came and went regularly, and purchasing others' books never achieving my same discoveries.

Where it became dangerous was not the scope of my interest, nor its extent; but, as an author with reason - as a statesman - my greatest flaw was creating the flourish within the mission of critique...

[Job + Joke = quirk] Well, when we create windows through time, and more through our experience's prestidigitation, its reflections of lesson, revamp what we do not know already; it comes our question, the defiance of a more definite nurturing... expressing joy, it has us whom resolve the conflict, its interrogative seeking second chances. Of observation's salutations there became a time which where we understood failure, as a joke to whom it may return sender, whether written or recited; plaid out; or conducive to our good health... second chances are not mortal unless we make it of them.

The presence of satire treats every moment in this experiential flare. A moment, a joke we turn personal. Venting, ranting, then settling it with ourselves. The one to blame is yourself, and so does your family; for taking more seriously a mob of angry souls; and, possibly, most-likely criminal elements.

The Grammar of Bi-Polar Disorder

The thing about being a displaced member of society, your writings are your tools, your training that works with others prior the psychology of avoiding that self-image. I myself am a diagnosed manic bi-polar. However, as simply as it is, that the grammar of a sociologist is putting back together what you and your psychologist fail to make solid -- sobriety is an adjective. Anyone has the power to to make something one fails to make solid, alone, whole again; or empowered.

But, when the substance of sobriety becomes the stigma, the thought, sobriety becomes an adverb. With this adverb trailing to coincide with 'formal opinion', there will always be doubts about honesty, trust and truth which transpire. And, what I mean that sobriety is an adjective, sobriety is a state of mind the mind chooses to trust when founding truth or honesty. What I do not mean is that sobriety is a critique about feeling whole or wholesome. Sobriety is not a brief moment of feeling sober.

I wish to describe "displaced", being a twentieth century deplorable. The stigma involved with my diagnosis has not yet affected me by society. I note my state of mind, when being corrected to being sobered, I instead have to accept or reject the therapist. As the writer, I choose to see the substance of stigma differently. This inherent adjective of being medicated, as indicating a change in that stigma which is positive, otherwise would be seen as a negative character trait of 'not being sober'.

The greatest part about society failing to make something solid, whole or wholesome is that there is God. And more so, that indulgence of grammar which makes society's truths less livid. To be vivid, or more so cliche, both stigma of understanding and stigma of being truthful coincide. One in the same, carrying with these observations are having set idle to experience what has been described for me as being a stigma to society.

SO how do I feel about being told I am deplorable, that it is stigmata that has brought about not feeling wholesome? The apparent flustered rush of confusion and distrust of everything that is what make something fiction surround me become philosophy. The mutiny of instantaneous rebellion that makes me feel like a fit in which conspires my imagination towards philanthropic narratives. A confederated might of engaged historical recollections with my 'evil-twin' who does not always think before he says things.

Whose the hero? Obviously it is the blast from moments of sobriety that make me feel I have slain some sorting of society called stigmata. My sorting of society. The grammar I know and use. The grammar others use to help me understand stigma, to understand the corrections of perfections to becoming flawless. The threat of being engaged by society, I feel it has become more honest to trust the corrections and speakers assuming these dialog to hold some truth, truth in society.

How hard is it to be diagnosed with a mental illness? Everyday.

Essays - Back to Top

An Essay in Fatalism

Social mentalities are but the fragment of philanthropic narrative, but a fragment of fatalism. Conformities and nomenclature of the mythological genius, who is a madman, comes from within what as we define our subconscious, ulterior motive and imagination claimed too been tamed. The badguy, a conflict embodiment of character flaw, the audience must first see within themselves.

The systematic success of fatalism has occurred by both the progress of society and the construction of its facilitating barriers. The comical romance of the foil, feminine character, expose these flaws of a false narrative of love. When the sequence occurs, and dimmed down responses to tragedy seem to combine with the gray, strict adherence of fatalism, it is very apparent that the comedian or villain role-plays as its conflict - not clown!

Is the Fabulai satire, or a deeply rooted written expression of written criticism? Does the divine comedy give the syntesis to support the comedy, which becomes a relief for the conflicts of learning language? What does the colours of acquisition hypothesize? Regressing, fatalism agrees with its common, that not answering does not indicate you know your answer is wrong. It is important to find where this comes from -- a thought in a deed can be disregarded, while actions by your words can be unforgiving.

Remember? Deeply divine comedic roots are the relief of something of creed, something solidified around great expressions and its bitter societal criticism. Of comparing literacies, the focused adjustment, veering to peer into the tragedy of the drama called love, is created personas - her spectra, the wraith, his anima. The badguy excels on critique and making fun with long winded super-villains who expose personal character flaws, always ending in the tragedy of the villain. The comedy becomes the betterment of civilization and humanity.

So what is fatalism... the failure of entertainers to outperform politicians for silence. The failure of politicians to out-debate their masses. Just failure...