Black Sheep Rebel Girl

Four-Wheel Drive Cajun Voodoo Wanderings

Four-Wheel Drive Cajun Voodoo Wanderings

I dream in four-wheel drive Cajun voodoo wanderings. Often times the dream feels as real as real life.  I wake up thinking I’m pretty positive that my dream actually happened, like in some parallel universe because I still have all kinds of emotion and thoughts wrapped up in it.

So I get annoyed when I tell a person “who was there in the dream with me about the dream, and they act like they don’t know what I am talking about.  Like when I told a cashier at Kroger that I had a dream about her driving my car on a beach and then she sat under the coffee table at my mom’s house eating Lays potato chips.  I explained how because of her, we couldn’t hear the TV and missed the last five minutes of an episode of “Stranger Things” that Justin Bieber was featured in and to this day I still do not know what happened.

The cashier just smiled and rang me up and acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about.  So I smiled back because I knew she would never admit that after “Stranger Things” she wiped her greasy potato chip hands on my mom’s carpet and then let a rhino stab his horn into the trunk of my Pontiac.

I wanted to shout, “Liar” at her but I didn’t. I just pretended we didn’t meet up in some alternative universe early one Saturday morning and that everything was cool. ©Excerpt from The Almost True Tales, Thoughts & Observations of a Life Long Black Sheep Rebel Girl”

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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Peter, Peppers and Publicists

Peter, Peppers and Publicists

“Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.  How long did it take him, an hour?  And now for the next hundred years we have to answer the question, how many peppers did Peter Piper pick?  Has anyone noticed you can’t pick pickled peppers, that peppers are pickled after they are picked?  No, people don’t care, they believe whatever Peter says or does.  Who is this guy’s publicist?  I need him!” 

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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The New York City Elephant

The New York City Elephant

One afternoon I saw a baby elephant swimming in the pond in Central Park. He didn’t appear to be with anyone so when he got out of the water I walked up to him and asked if he had a place to stay.  I didn’t open my mouth when I asked him, I “thought asked him” and he “thought answered me back” stating that he did not have a place to stay.  So, we walked together on the sidewalk down 8th Ave. to our apartment in Chelsea.  No one said a word, no one even asked a question or took a picture.  You know how New Yorkers are, you can literally walk an elephant down the sidewalk and no one will be surprised.

Once we arrived it was obvious that he was not going to find our tall but very thin, four-room railroad apartment comfortable so we walked straight down the hall and out to the garden patio in the back. All of the buildings on our block share a common courtyard and that baby elephant has been living back there ever since.  He likes the trees and the fountains and the vegetable gardens and the cats and benches.  Everyone gave up their backyard space for him and he has the run of the inside of the whole city block. We built a heated shelter for winter and he paints on canvas and works out on a giant treadmill when he is not rolling in mud or peeking in windows.

At first I tried to get him to go to a preserve but he said he didn’t want to go, he said he likes New York City and that Manhattan is where he wants to live. He actually told me that for a long time he didn’t even know he was an elephant.  He thought he was a beautiful girl with long legs and he said he had aspirations of dancing with the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall.  When he finally realized he was an elephant he decided he wanted to at least be part of the city and so he stayed.

He likes visitors you can go and see him anytime you want. Some people charge to go through their building but I never did, I always let people come and look for free. He adores people and loves to talk: you’d be surprised how easy it is to talk to an elephant.

Some people are scared to talk to him because they don’t trust the words they hear him putting into their head. But I found him to be fascinating.  We used to talk about Gandhi and Jesus and why he thinks the sun continues to burn and the sacred land he believes elephants go to when they die.  We would often take walks at three in the morning, down to the Village or up to the Park.  “You two fit in perfectly with all the other weirdos out at that time,” my neighbor Bernice would say.

I still get holiday cards from him, that’s why I know he is still there. If you ever get to the city let me know. I’ll make sure you get to meet him.  ©Excerpt from “The Almost True Tales, Thoughts & Observations of a Life Long Black Sheep Rebel Girl”

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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Outsider, Fringe Walker, Artist, Beatnik Freak

Outsider, Fringe Walker, Artist, Beatnik Freak

My name is Rachel Hutcheson, I am a writer, a songwriter, an actor, outsider, fringe walker, rebel, never went to prom, black sheep, moved to New York City at twenty-three and performed with a boat-load of talented friends: hit the road after six years to see the sky in Chicago and then to feel the Los Angeles sun for ten.

Now I’m writing left of center Peace & Love, Power to the People, You Don’t Own Me, You Broke My Heart, and I Won’t Back Down songs in Nashville, TN. I live with my walk the line husband who I met at a kegger in Kalamazoo, Mi. when I was nineteen.

I’ve been an artist my entire life, never had a corporate job, never worked for the man, never shot a gun and I say what I think because I can. I have worked as a painter, a waitress, a jewelry maker, designer, seamstress and a vendor, I am a dreamer, a “life is a blow your mind miracle” believer, a philosopher, a listener and a Be Who You Are supporter and defender.

I saw back in kindergarten I didn’t fit the mold and the trouble gets worse as the years I live grow. The freer I become the more I want to be free, and the deeper it goes the more I feel like me. I do not know why I am how I am: why I’m not wolf and why I’m not a lamb.  But I tell you right now, when it comes to me, there is no other me that I’d rather be.

I don’t like to hide, I don’t like to fake it: Life is art, at least that’s what I named it. I write and I act to entertain and uplift, I am here to inspire and smash the mountain of myths that say you can only be what people say you can be…that’s big pile of shit, you know what I mean?

So I’m writing some books, hanging my flag on a pole and where I’ll end up nobody knows. If you like what I’m saying, if you can feel what I’m thinking, you might just be a different breed, beatnik, black sheep rebel freak like me…©Excerpt from “The Almost True Tales, Thoughts & Observations of a Life Long Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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Is It The World Or Just Me Who Has Changed?

Is It The World Or Just Me Who Has Changed?

The idea that one day the world would change because of people standing in a circle, holding hands and singing “Kumbaya” used to sound cheesy, unrealistic and trite to me.  Now several times a week I find myself wishing we could all come together, hold hands and sing “Kumbaya.”  I wonder if it is the world or just me who has changed.  Is it the world or me who has changed

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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Always the Passenger

Always the Passenger

I’m a passenger on this planet. As far as I know it won’t change. I drive my car, I drive my life but all the time I’m riding shotgun on a rocket ball through space. It doesn’t stop, it doesn’t break, it hurls at 60,000 miles an hour going no place, but the same place, like a race you can trace. No one has stopped it, though many have tried. Bombs and war kill people but the ride never dies.

Doesn’t it make you wonder what’s the game, what’s the plan? Doesn’t it make you wonder who is God, what is man? We get caught up in, “You said this” and “I don’t believe in that.” and it sounds to me like the funniest conversation people have. When we are dead and buried they’ll put our bodies in the ground and the body remains a passenger on this planet spinning round.

Now maybe there’s a heaven where everybody meets, but is it spinning round like us in this same galaxy? I don’t mean to get heavy, I’m just trailing back my thoughts: trying figure out what’s happening, so I know what’s going on.

I believe that I’m a soul-man and I’m trying to break free. We all think lots of thoughts and these are the thoughts of me. ©Excerpt from “The Almost True Tales, Thoughts & Observations of a Life Long Black Sheep Rebel Girl”

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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The Sun

The Sun

“It must be tough to be the sun.  Everyone loves you but no one will touch you.”

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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My Batman Story

My Batman Story

I had a half-sized, midnight blue Schwinn bike when I was six years old.  The seat was two-toned blue and white with an “S” in the center.  It was a cool bike and I liked to ride it but that is not the reason it will be emblazoned in my mind with the words justice and righteousness forever.

You see one spring day I left my bike out in our yard and someone slashed the front tire. It was a defining moment for me because it was the first time I saw “meanness” in the world.  In fact, I thought it was the first time anything “bad” had ever happened to anyone anywhere and it confused me.  “Why would someone do something like that?”

Now coincidentally that same day, only an hour later I saw Batman on TV.  I didn’t know who he was but they said he fought crime and I thought he must have arrived because of my bike.  Suddenly it all made perfect sense to me: I had witnessed “meanness” enter our world and now Batman had come to life to combat it and make the world good again. The tremendous relief I felt when I saw him popped me out of my stunned state and I knew the world would be okay.  Thank you Batman for coming to my rescue when I needed you most, you calmed my worried heart and gave me hope. Godspeed. ©Excerpt from “The Almost True Tales, Thoughts & Observations of a Life Long Black Sheep Rebel Girl”

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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I’m For Laughter

I’m For Laughter

“I’m for laughter, happily ever after, don’t matter who, don’t matter what: when and where do not matter, I’m for laughter.  I’m for laughter loud enough to make people turn their heads and think “I should be over there,” while others think, “what assholes!” I’m for laughter at the wrong time: at funerals, board meetings, during sex, flat-tires, hurricanes and shipwrecks.

I’m for laughter stopping us from falling off the last step into solemn oblivion.  I’m for laughter as the recognition of the joke that life can sometimes be. I’m for laughter from the heart, laughter that lifts one’s spirit so high everything looks funny and you can’t get “serious” about life anymore because you get the joke.

I’m for the giddy laughter coming from the small feet people who pitter-patter. I’m for laughter when the money’s in the red and losings all the chatter.  I’m for laughter for no reason at all or just because it feels good, a good hearty laugh like a good laugh should.  I’m for laughter with friends who make you crack up no matter what they say.

I’m for laughter is the best medicine and you got to take it everyday like a painkiller. Only it doesn’t just dull the pain, it makes the pain go away: so long pain you lose to laughter. Uncontrollable, cheek hurting, spit spewing, pee inducing, stomach pain bringing, thank you for making me laugh like a jackass, I don’t need nothing cause I got you laughter.  Laughter is what I’m after, I’m for laughter……”©Excerpt from “The Almost True Tales, Thoughts & Observations of a Life Long Black Sheep Rebel Girl”

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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Craigslist Rocket Ships & Soul

Craigslist Rocket Ships & Soul

“People said I was some kind of crazy thinking I could hang on to a dream I’d had since I was a kid. But I knew I couldn’t expect somebody who has never rode a comet across the sky to understand something as astral as a dream. They can’t see that far, that’s all, they just don’t have the vision.  But it’s not glasses they need, it’s soul.

The kind of soul that keeps your heart-beating when everything you ever loved is lost. Soul that makes you see the devastating beauty in tragedy and the shallow tragedy in beauty. Soul that goes so deep you can feel water flowing through it way down in the center of the earth.  And soul, so incredibly alive, it can yank you right out of the desert of dead dreams and pump the breath back into lifeless hope.

I got soul,  that’s how I made it all the way out to the edge of the universe, all universes.

See, I had it in my mind for sometime that I wanted to find the edge, the end of everything. Some people call it the “Edge of the World.” Well, I wanted to find the edge all worlds, the whole game. Now once I get something in my mind, I don’t give up easy. So, after a very extensive search I acquired a space travel vehicle that I felt would take me to my destination. I purchased the craft from an old man in Billings, Montana right off of Craigslist.

He had been working on building a space-travel machine since the 1970’s and finally created one that actually worked. It was constructed out of a Ski-Doo Jet Ski and he put all kinds of rockets-blasters, navigational devices and long distance travel instruments on it. Then he heat-proofed it, fire-proofed it, cold-proofed it etc. and stuck a lid over the whole thing.

It was actually quite simple to navigate and fairly comfortable for what it was. He also included a spacesuit which made me look like a giant tuna fish. The listing said no haggling, so I paid the full price with a money order as requested, and set off to find the edge of the universe.  Within a week I was up near the first star on the handle of the Big Dipper. After a few more weeks I was well out of the Milky Way all together…….”©Excerpt from “The Almost True Tales, Thoughts & Observations of a Life Long Black Sheep Rebel Girl”

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Black Sheep Rebel Girl

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