Updates – Page 2 – Joseph A Federico

Spiritual Guidance by Maricela Duarte

January 20, 2019January 20, 2019
by josephafederico

The next guest blogger on JosephAFederico.com is my friend, Maricela Duarte. Continue below to read her fascinating story and be sure to contact her for a spiritual follow-up!

My childhood was normal to say the least. You know, everyone has stories of imaginary friends and tall tales of events that happened during sleepovers. Well, my events never took place over at someone’s Halloween party. I had always been somewhat of the ‘odd’ or ‘different’ child in our family.

I remember the earliest experience being around the age of 3. I was in our small apartment living room and I remember it being a bit dark; a sofa and a window was right behind it to my left, and to my right was the front door. I remember playing with a green tennis ball on the floor, and then I saw a quick shadow followed by some low whispers. I also remember being interested in Armageddon. Every morning, I’d ask my mom if a day would be the ‘end of the world,’ then run outside and stare up at the sky as if something were going to happen.

A few years later, our family moved into a home in Pico Rivera, California, and that is where everything for me began. No day or night was quiet for me; there was ALWAYS something or someone around trying to get my attention. From silhouettes of men in brown robes, to women in white dresses crossing between walls in our bedroom, and even small creatures hanging off my bed at night and scattering on the floor… no night was inactive.

Although those events were not frightening, I would bring it to my mother’s attention to which she would order us to clean out the storage from underneath our beds, because she was then certain the crawling creatures were mice. I lived with all of those apparitions for about a year or so when one night, I was completely frightened of what showed up to greet me.

I remember I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. We had the type of light in the hallway that would have to be turned on from the opposite end (not closest to our bedroom). I tried waking up my twin to ask her to join me, so that I would not be alone, but she insisted that she didn’t have to pee, and I would just have to make the tumultuous journey down the hall alone. Holding my breath, and knowing something was waiting for me, I slowly walked out of our bedroom and started making my way down the long hall.

Nothing was off at first, taking another unsteady step closer to the light switch. I started noticing two red eyes starring right at me from our bay window in our living room. I thought to myself that it may be outside of the window. I took another few steps, and as I got closer to the living room area, to my amazement, I noticed that the eyes were on top of my parents record player INSIDE our home in front of the bay window. That’s where I froze.

This thing was possibly the size of a medium-sized small dog breed, with gray skin and ugly-looking paws. It was squatting down, looking straight at me with nothing but what looked like a smirk on its face. I never made it to that light switch, but instead ran straight into the bathroom and quickly locked the door, sat in our bathroom for about what felt like a lifetime (more like 45 minutes).

I waited until I sensed that this thing had backed up away from the door, although I knew it wasn’t out of the house. Once again, I held my breath and counted to three before throwing open the bathroom door and booking it straight for my bedroom. I turned my head right before entering my room where I saw this thing on the floor with that same disgusting smirk again.

After that night, what I thought was a curse to live with just became harder and harder to deal with. Since I had no one to show me how to set boundaries, and when to allow entities to come into contact with me, life was full of ups and downs. I acted-out a lot during this time of my young life, and was angry all the time, probably because I never really slept.

I tried to talk to my parents about everything, but just ended up keeping it to myself after the constant ‘it was just a dream’ excuses. Being of the old world, my parents stuck to many old habits of lecturing and scolding. For example, if we misbehaved, they would tell us that our “Guardian Angel had left us and the Devil would be pulling at our feet tonight,” so, that just added to my fear.

After the event with the gargoyle-like creature, that is when I started feeling the frequency of Spirit. The voices were still far off, and it always sounded like someone had the television on in a back room at just the right volume to know the television was on, but not loud enough to hear it.

The energy was always intense, and sometimes, I found myself getting completely dizzy and falling over. I would get constant visions of the past rushing through my head, especially around the older side of town. Once we moved to Colorado, things calmed down a little. But, being that we were only 12 when we moved out there, little did I know the ghosts that waited for me in good ‘ol Denver.

I always wondered why my childhood home had such an overpowering energy to it, and that was answered by Mrs. Moreno, a beautiful neighbor we had growing-up in Cali. One summer, when we went back to visit some family, she sat down with us and spoke about growing-up in the neighborhood of Pico Rivera. The story was that before our home was built, there stood the last church of Pico Rivera as property of Mexico, before it was purchased by the United States. That immediately explained the women in white dresses and the men in brown robes.

Fast forward to my teenage life. The home we moved into was built around the 1940s, but we feel that the ground itself was haunted. I would constantly get scratching at my bedroom window, my bedroom lights would always be flipped on in the middle of the night, thundering/banging on my front door in the middle of the night, as well as orbs flying inside and outside our home. My twin sister once followed an orb outside in the middle of the night, trying to see whatever this thing was! She, of course, found absolutely nothing.

When my husband (then-boyfriend) and I moved into our first apartment together; that’s when my Guides really started to push me into awareness. I fell onto dark times then, self-medicating myself with marijuana and excessive drinking, because then, I had a reason to hear the voices… I just chalked it up to the drugs.

Needless to say, I’ve been clean a little over ten years now, and have been working on helping to understand what is really out past the veil that we cannot see with our own two eyes. I strive to help others start their healing process through council and Reiki, and I use my gifts. I’m now grateful for them and find it amazing to see the things and hear the things and sense the things that are all around us all the time.

I can now teach my kids and so many others, how to set proper boundaries, not just try keeping away negative forces, but also keeping away negative people and situations. Meditating and speaking to myself is part of my normal life now, and it keeps me sane. I still get a few nightly visitors, but all in all, I have grown to a point where I can set the proper intentions and lay down the law for anything that tries to come into my home.

Now, I have created my own business to help others spiritually by clearing homes, spaces and people, that have unexplained activities and/or attachments. I bring in many different tools and allies, and follow my Angels’ guidance and intuitions using many forms of plants, flowers, oils, smudges and so much more.

I truly believe that I was given this gift in order to receive the experiences that I did, and use it to help others.

If you would like to reach me, you can find me on Instagram @m.d.traditionalllc, or by email, at mdtraditional@gmail.com. Our web page is www.beyondmediums.com for any paranormal issues you find yourself having.

For more information or to be Joseph A. Federico’s next guest blogger, click here.

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Spiritual Readings with Seth Browder

January 2, 2019January 2, 2019
by josephafederico

And for my next act, I had the pleasure of sitting down with a spiritual, light-hearted man name Seth Browder. He takes us on his journey through twists and turns, as he finds himself.

My youth involved growing up in Colorado Springs. At the age of nine, I experienced my first apparition—my best friend, Joel, visited me after being struck by a semi-truck, two days after his death. Several months later, Joel visited again, and prompted me to speak my truths about the abduction I experienced when I was molested by a man who lived down the street.

These are my beginnings as a medium, as a gifted being, who remembers the conversations between my mother and grandmother who spoke of spirits that visited them. These are my beginnings as a magick practitioner, who studied the occult, because of a father’s curiosity with the undead, the unusual, the paranormal. My father, a self-proclaimed ghost hunter, an avid vampire/werewolf chaser, used me as his conduit, his connection to the other side, his translator to the dead, while we drove around Manitou Springs in a 1963 Mercury Comet, and a trunk filled with paranormal hunting supplies.

My whole life, I was considered a freak. I began to believe I was a freak who fell into darkness after my abduction. With personal attempts to end my life, I was placed into recovery for a year. I was situated in therapy when alcohol abuse became my father, and my sexual-identity became a sin—I was the freak people perceived me to be. Then, in my late-teens, I had the strength to leave Colorado Springs to find myself in the world, thereafter.

I found myself in Seattle, Washington, where I began to hone my gifts by studying the craft of magick. Attuned to Reiki, and eventually becoming a Reiki Master Teacher myself, I taught natural healers to awaken their own gifts within themselves and sharpen their abilities to communicate with the deceased. As a teacher, I introduced rituals to my students who healed others, but also healed me as their guide when balance restored itself.

After meeting my partner, a part of me questioned myself as a spiritual practitioner, a healer, and/or a guide; a part of me went dormant when I began to excessively drink alcohol and inhaled two packs of cigarettes on a daily basis. At thirty-years-old, I had a heart attack. My whole life was in question.

My partner and I moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico. There, I was awakened slightly as I began to see more than just the ancient spirits of the land. I began to feel myself again, when the spirits of my partner’s childhood woke me in the dead of sleep. While in Santa Fe, I began to experience the eccentricities of the landscape and appreciated the spirits that surrounded me and guided me as I journeyed to regain bits of me that were lost in transition.

Being a medium has never been easy, I should add, but it has been healing, especially after the loss of my pépère, who helped me accept my gifts as a medium when he came to visit me during the worst times of my life. My mother is also my guide, as she has reminded me to acknowledge my growth as a communicator. She, too, contains similar gifts.

I can say I can come from a lineage of mediums, but I am unsure; however, my whole family can attest to their own abilities to see or feel or hear what is not present. I am unsure how far my power has been within our growing family, but I know the strength of my ancestors are with us.

Self-healing has been an important process in my practice. Working with Archangel Magick, I have been able to utilize the hierarchy as guides in finding other natural-born mediums, who needed guidance during their own confrontations of self-worth. With the support of friends, teachers, and spiritual leaders, I have been granted a sight to view the unseen; I have been granted a sight to help find the lost; I have been granted a sight to guide others into their own safety.

I recently lost my father, in the midst of returning to Colorado Springs. He is now part of the guides who help me when I need assistance. The scent of cigarettes fills my home whenever he is near. I no longer smoke, I no longer drink, I no longer work as an assistant for an abusive alcoholic who dissuaded me from ever believing in my own self-importance.

With the help of an apothecary in Manitou Springs, I created an all-natural lotion that aides the healing process after any tattooing. Because of my own skin issues with eczema, my lotion has soothed the aches and pains for those who suffer eczema and psoriasis. My kitchen is now my office, my laboratory, my reason to attain self-assurance in practicing healing for others; more importantly, healing me from those who create maltreatment, but also create a magick to heal the world.

Confidence is what I found, in the experience, to attract what I needed to succeed. The light I am surrounded by gleams and feeds itself to the world for others to ingest and receive nourishment. I provide strength.

My creation will help others, my ability of sight will guide others, my presence will empower others to find themselves, and view the world through different light.

My light is theirs to share.

My partner and I have been in Colorado Springs for the past five years. I married my best friend. Our family has blossomed into three cats, six dogs, a tank full of fish. We own a house with a garden filled with anomalies where plants are arranged to resonate with beauty. It’s a sanctuary I built for myself; it’s a sanctuary for anyone who needs to get away. I built it for those to sit and breathe and watch the mountains. My mother is currently in remission for breast cancer. She is healing and recovering.

We are healing and recovering.

We will sit and wait inside our sanctuary as we breathe.

If you are interested in a reading or teaching under Seth Browder, you may contact him here. If you are interested in his healing lotion, you may contact him here. Follow him on Instagram: @sethbrowder76 .

To be part of Joseph A. Federico’s growing list of acclaimed guest bloggers, click here!

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My Favorite Things – Witch Mix

December 21, 2018December 21, 2018
by josephafederico

P.G. Witchcrest dropped off a lovely remixed version of “My Favorite Things” in my email the other day, just in time for the Christmas season.

He is a 28-year-old Louisiana resident and native, and aspiring author and local artist. Mr. Withcrest is currently working on two novels and will be the cover model for one of my historical fiction works in the near future.

So, without further ado, here is his version of the holiday favorite…

Black clothen covens
And Legions of witches
Rough burlap poppets all sewn up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things!

Red ruby slippers and weird sister bitches
Black cats and gray rats
And self-cleaning kitchens
Sisters that fly off the roof on Hallow’s eve
These are a few of my favorite things!

Charmed ones and Willows
Dark sleepy hollows
Green wicked witches that melt like the spring
These are a few of my favorite things!

When the crows fly
When the beast calls
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad!

What did you think of this holiday classic with a dark twist? Comments welcome below.

For more information on P.G. Witchcrest, to contact him, to learn more about his upcoming novels, or to submit a poem, simply click here.

Happy hauntings and Merry Yule!

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Talk About Acting with Adler Hyatt

December 7, 2018December 7, 2018
by josephafederico

My third guest, the young, handsome and talented Adler Hyatt, is an actor. See, I’m attempting to spotlight all walks of life and professions in this here blog series.

Read on, because things are about to get interesting…

Whether I knew it or not, I was always a performer growing up. I always loved playing as TV characters when on the playground as opposed to football. When I discovered the stage, I was hooked. My journey took me all the way from my New Orleans home to the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland to get my bachelor’s degree in Acting. I dedicated my life to the role of a performer, and I wish I could go back and teach myself all the things I know now… to make my personal course a little smoother.

The biggest question I had as a young performer is, “What is my method?” I thought I should know what I needed to do to prepare myself for a role naturally, but an actor’s method is a unique thing. It’s like a fingerprint, but even more personal, since it can’t truly be categorized. The one thing every person in the entire industry will tell you about acting, is that an honest performance is key to every lock for actors.

To get an honest performance, you need to have a grasp on your process. But, which process is the right fit? I’m a firm believer in the fact that different people need different things to be able to access the pool of emotional openness needed for that honesty. Whether you are a Stanislavsky Savant or a master of “The Method”, the constant truth of acting is trueness in the emotion, in the scene, in the character. To find this trueness, one needs to find what way the character fits into their personal process and method.

I know actors that give tear-jerking performances after light skimming of the words, and actors that discover honesty in the words after in-depth textual analysis and a breakdown of the scene through bookwork. Neither of these actors are better than the other; they both are simply using different processes to open their portrayal of the characters to the audience.

For myself, I always thought that my need for bookwork was a weakness… that the actor that needs to put more effort into the book is not as effective as an actor that just releases their emotion to the world with ease, but that isn’t the case. If it gets you where you need to be as a performer, bookwork is a fantastic tool.

Now, one of my favourite things to do when getting new characters is the bookwork, whether it is necessary or not. It helps me find the person in the character and that person is what I can bring to the stage or screen or radio or wherever I find myself as an artist. What the audience receives is the most important part of the job of an actor. How the actor gets there is the process.

A lot of the words are interchangeable: process, method, technique; they all, in essence, mean the same thing. What we need to remember as actors, is that all the feeling, and working and connecting is done to bring ourselves and the character together. Whether that is done by being the character or being yourself and knowing how to inflect delivery to get the desired sound and physicality.

The best thing is what works for the individual. An actor’s method cannot be dogma. Through my own training, I picked and chose pieces from each of the famous methods we studied until I discovered what brought me emotional trueness as a performer. Doing this not only helped me find my own truth as an actor, but I also discovered personal growth as a human being.

Sincerely,
Adler Hyatt

Care to be my next guest blogger? I’d sure like to have you on! Email josephafed@yahoo.com for your chance…

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Conversations with Jason Cobb

December 4, 2018
by josephafederico

My second guest in this blog series is a man, a legend… on Instagram and in real life. The true reason I reached out to Mr. Cobb, was because I was intrigued by what story he had to tell, that I just knew he had hidden behind his somewhat-scandalous story and platform wall. He’s not a many of many words, but what he shares is one of love and self-truth.

Ladies and gents, I’d like to officially reveal Mr. Jason Cobb!

I was supposed to be a high school theatre queen, having been in every musical, touring troupe, and theatre production I could find. So, fast forward past college and logically, I became a lawyer (sarcasm intended). I came out of undergrad the way most people worked their way through – undecided. I knew I wanted an advanced degree, if only because I knew I was capable. What form that took was mostly irrelevant for the longest time.

But several years out of undergrad, I found myself married to the first guy I ever asked out (a guy I met at my telephone customer service job), and he had legal dreams. So, after watching him tackle his first two years of law school, I was very much into “that’ll do.” So, I quickly followed after.

Fast forward through a few houses, a few mortgages, several dogs, and a kid. After fifteen plus years, I decided to get gay-divorced before that got trendy, too. And at forty, I found myself largely unsure of myself and what I had to offer anyone on the dating front. I got a quick education. But first, I got a mustache. Duh.

It sounds silly, but growing a mustache had a LOT to do with me owning my own appearance, and accepting that I didn’t want to try passing for a young man. I looked like what I looked like, and that was fine. My goal was to be genuine. Frankly, my life had gotten really complicated in a short amount of time, and the last thing I had energy for was creating an alter ego.

But, choosing to present yourself in a genuine fashion necessarily requires a large measure of self-acceptance. And part of my journey of self-acceptance was realizing that I was fine just the way I was… that not everyone was going to be into me, and that I didn’t need everyone to be into me. And mostly, that I wasn’t my own type.

Really. I realized that as a gay man sizing up every other gay man, I didn’t need to meet my own standard or checklist of what I was looking for. I wasn’t into me. But solely as a preference, not a judgment as to my worth as a human being. Just because I wouldn’t date someone like me didn’t mean I wasn’t worth dating; it just meant I was looking for someone with a different taste in men. I came to accept it as perfectly normal for someone to see things in me they find impossibly sexy, attractive, and loveable, that I simply didn’t appreciate at all, or that I even found unattractive.

This approach also freed me to feel validated about my own needs and desires. And so, @notgettingyouapony, my Insta handle, was born. I was fine being a daddy, but I already had an actual son who wanted me to buy him things. I wasn’t looking for another bill, or another tax deduction.

Having never really dated before shacking up and getting married the first time, I quickly appreciated that I also lacked any dating skills… as in, I can’t take a hint, I don’t understand when someone makes a pass at me, and making repeated passes usually results only in the same reaction. I’m that dense.

So, I decided to try just being nice… to be honest about my feelings, including with myself, not sleeping with anyone I didn’t actually like at the moment on some level as a human being, and trying not to unnecessarily hurt anyone. I didn’t always succeed, but I feel a lot better about myself thinking I did right by most people. Fight me.

My little midlife dating adventure led me and my boyfriend together a few years ago. He’s everything I could have dreamed for, and surprises me every day. And even though he tells me constantly, I still haven’t the damndest idea what he sees in me. But, I love him for it. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk (said with full appreciation that it sounds like a dad trying to be cool…)

Hi, I’m Jason.

Interested in becoming my next guest blogger? Drop a message to Josephafed@yahoo.com and we’ll get you squared away. Don’t be shy, now.

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Guest Blogger Stephen Gillhespy of Possessed Radio

November 27, 2018
by josephafederico

Joseph A. Federico started this guest blogger series to assure the world knew that different perspectives existed from all walks of life. Whether you’re a doctor, dentist, entrepreneur, belly dancer or a police officer, we all have a story to tell. Imagine how boring the world would be if we just kept our traps shut and didn’t share the very core of who we were as human beings.

Joseph A. Federico would like to introduce the first of many guest bloggers… Stephen Gillhespy.

Hey there, my name is Stephen, and I’m the host of the podcast/website Possessed Radio! Possessed Radio is first and foremost a podcast dedicated to horror in any form. I’ve talked to filmmakers, video game developers, musicians and more.

The project started off as a medium for me to discuss some of my favorite movies. Since I spent most of my time typing giant paragraph responses in horror groups on Facebook to argue about movies, a podcast seemed like a much more practical approach. After the first month or so of rambling to myself on movies, though, I decided to branch out to doing interviews. I interviewed the fantastic people behind Midwest Horror Fest (better known as HMM Films) and from then on, was introduced to the wonderful world of independent horror!

Before I touch on that story, though, here’s what you need to know about me: I’m obsessed with horror. Whether it is fictional, historical, or anything in between. I don’t care if it is in English, Japanese, Spanish, or event silent. The larger the cultural scope, the more diverse and original the scares become. When I was 4, I saw my first horror film when I watched the original “Halloween”. From that moment on, I was crazy about the genre. My father would rent me the latest films or previous classics every Friday growing up.

This love affair continued along with my love for aging films, when I found the Roger Corman adaptations of Edgar Allan Poe, starring the great Vincent Price. From there, my taste spiraled down a never-ending rabbit hole much like Dante traversed the depths of hell; nothing was too dark or obscure. Price led me to Cushing, Cushing to Hammer Films, Hammer Films back to the original Universal Classic Monsters with Karloff, and on. I also discovered Lovecraft through one of my all-time favorite films, “Reanimator”. His written works would complement my childhood readings of Goosebumps, and my home state hero Jonathan Rand’s Michigan Chillers.

While I enjoyed films and novels throughout my life, I also found another beloved pastime in video games. When I was 11, I was introduced to “Resident Evil”. I entered into the golden age of survival horror gaming, making regular stops to “Raccoon City”, “Silent Hill”, and the “Roivas’ Estate”. The terror I felt during those late-night childhood gaming sessions with the lights out in the basement, solidified my love for both horror and gaming. I quickly gained a reputation for being the kid with the scary games at home, and there were many kids my age who wanted to see what they were all about, since most of them were not allowed at home.

As it sounds though, I was sort of an outcast growing-up with my tastes in horror. Many people my age wouldn’t develop that interest until much later, if at all. Much of my interest in horror sprung from my fascination with cemeteries and death as a child. I often played in the cemetery that was next to my country home growing-up and loved reading the headstones. My mother found it so odd, she even asked my pediatrician if she should be concerned. This fascination would only grow as I entered my teen years, with adverse health conditions which left me hospitalized often. I spent many days home alone from school, surrounded by the monsters that gave me comfort.

My health struggles ultimately led me to pursuing a long college career to enter the health field. This followed me from undergrad, through my work in the cadaver lab, hospital, and straight through grad school.

By 2017, I was in my sixth year of college and utterly drained by the studies, so it seemed like a fitting time for an escape, leading me to creating Possessed Radio. Named in part after my favorite film, “The Evil Dead”, made by Michigan filmmaking legend Sam Raimi (and of course, Bruce Campbell). And in many ways, the indie film inspired title was only a precursor of what was to come.

Following that introduction to independent horror, I became obsessed with the genre. The stories could be darker, the effects were gorier, and the ratings were less restrictive. And despite these dark independent horrors, the community behind them was more inviting and friendlier than I ever could have imagined.

My podcast now focuses on the voices of horror that take that creative edge to new heights and diverges from the often mundane and stale triple-A releases. I believe that the salvation of modern horror lies in the voices who are not melding to industry standards, but instead, creating new and unique stories to creep us out for years to come.

As such, my podcast will continue to cover my opinions on all forms of horror, while simultaneously promoting the up-and-comers behind stories that deserve to be heard. I’m even working on my own stories now, and dabbling in filmmaking as well, with many projects on the way. I appreciate everyone who stops by to listen, and active participation is encouraged.

I love to hear the opinions of others, and always love a respectful debate as well. So, take pride in your spooky passions, and as always, keep the lights off.

Connect with me on:

Interested in becoming the next guest blogger for JosephAFederico? Have a unique story to tell? Contact Joseph A. Federico here, and the rest is history!

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Talking About Being on Television

August 23, 2018
by josephafederico

Many years ago, I’d met a young man named Scott; he was a regular at a local club I used to frequent during my “wild” days. He eventually settled down and began dating a fine young lad by the name of Mike. So, long story short and into the realm of synergy we go, I eventually met Mike’s mom, Doreen.

I drove to Doreen’s humble abode in New York State one fine afternoon, flowers in hand, to discuss energy and life path choices, and we really hit it off. She was such a beacon of light and positivity, that she did wonders for my self-esteem at the time. And little did I know that Doreen was well-connected to all walks of life – from world travelers to queer artists and everyone in between.

Skip to present day – a few months ago – and I received a group message on Facebook. It had been from Doreen, and she copied two other gentlemen. She gave a short, sweet and somewhat vague introduction, then left the conversation shortly after. It was her style to set an intention then leave the group to do what they may.

One gentleman, I never connected with, and the other was Eric Faria. He immediately private messaged me on his own regarding his line of work – which is in television and running a talk show – and wanted to know more about my debut novella and also inquired about me being an upcoming guest.

Having labeled 2018 as “the year of continued opportunity,” I immediately jumped at the chance to reply with a “yes” and gave Eric detailed information regarding my first self-published book. He responded quickly and set-up a conference call to discuss it further.

About two weeks later, Eric called me and we hit it off right away. We shared our special stories about how we’d met Doreen – the proverbial glue that cosmically brought us together – then he conducted a pre-interview in order to learn more about what I’d bring to his talk show as an upcoming guest. Well, it went swimmingly, to say the least. All I had to do then was pick a date and time of my appearance. I was ecstatic – not only at the thought of being on television, but also because I’d been given the chance to take advantage of a unique opportunity t0 share my newly-evolved, authentic self with people I’d never met before.

If you know me, you probably know the story of how I was on the once-popular children’s television show, “Romper Room,” in the 1980s for my third birthday. I was a special guest that day, and thanks to the technology of the day and to my brain for filling in the gaps, as we humans tend to do, I recall it being pretty fucking special. I mean, come on, it was the day of my television debut.

And, if you read one of my older blogs, you would have gone on another journey with me – one that took place last summer… a journey of being in my first feature-length film. That was an experience to say the least… You really should check it out sometime – both the blog and the film.

Right, so, yes… Once I solidified plans to travel to Mamaroneck, New York, I began working on preparing for my spot on “I Am” with Eric Faria. My assistant interviewed me in the style similar to how Eric interviewed his past guests. It did wonders because there was no way I would have gotten through a full hour of taping without some preparation. And let’s face it, I always like to put my best foot – in this case, best face – forward.

The day of the taping of the show came and I felt like a star. I got a fresh haircut and gave myself a manicure. I even took it very easy that Friday, assuring I ate light and sat by the pool to get last minute sun for that extra glow. I was beyond ready.

Later, I left for New York with plenty of time to spare, just in case I got lost. The trip over the G.W Bridge wasn’t too treacherous; I had RuPaul, Jennifer Lopez and other pop stars to keep me company along the way. By 6:50pm, I made it to the studio. I took a deep breath, pushed the “lock” button to my car, and walked away with pride.

The nicest people greeted me and led me to the green room. There, I cleared my throat, checked my hair, and conducted facial exercises to assure I’d speak with exceptional diction. Then, Eric came to greet me and walk me to the studio itself. It was just about go time.

Once I was in my chair, staff powdered my face and mic’d me up, then did a soundcheck to assure the acoustics were where they were supposed to be. Before I knew it, I heard a woman say, “Three… two… one…” She pointed in my direction and began rolling. On went the plastered smile and I shoved the nervous butterflies away for another day. “Hi, I’m Eric Faria…” were the last words I remember coherently hearing for the better part of an hour.

GULP.

Before I knew it, the second of three segments had been in the can, and we were about the film the final one. Now, I’d been fine up to that point… but, for some reason, time slowed down during the third segment, and I became aware of my surroundings. “Shit, I’m on television. Don’t freak out,” I told myself several times. I only had a few minutes left before the camera crew yelled “cut.” I snapped out of it and finished up with gusto.

I blinked and it was over… one full hour of discussing Voudou Juice, publishing, and the ins and outs of being a writer. What a trip. The staff took my mic off, I posed for a few promo shots with Eric and was sent on my merry way. To say I was riding high the next few days would be an understatement. I was proud of my accomplishment, my preparedness and, well, even prayed that the editors would cut out a bit of my on-screen awkwardness.

My video and podcast should be released soon for you all to enjoy. If my words touch at least one person out there in TV land, I’d consider it a great success.

Signing off…

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Read Aloud

August 14, 2018
by josephafederico

So, on August 3, 2018, I was invited to participate in a book reading, hosted by Glen Binger and The Working Artist. The event was called, “Stories By The Sea,” and the reason said event was so fucking cool and dear to my heart, is because all who participated were – in one form or another – native to my home state, New Jersey.

I’d been invited last year by the wondrous Mr. Binger, but unfortunately had a prior engagement to attend. See, Glen has tenacity and sure puts on an entertaining show. When I was asked to attend this year’s event, I was honored and immediately added it to my e-calendar, then swiftly began preparing a chapter to read out of Voudou Juice.

As the big night approached, sure, my mind raced, and I asked myself, “But, what if they don’t like me?” I had also prepared like a motherfucker, thanks to my trusty assistant, Christopher. Not that what I prepared came out the way I had intended, BUT, that’s another story for another night… and par for the course, right?

And, truth be told, I was also a bit nervous, because, sure, I’d spoken with Glen over the years, but didn’t exactly know anybody else, except for those I’d connected with over Instagram. OK, I’m 35, but adults get nervous, too, alright?

There was this one fella, now that we’ve met in person, I’m proud to call him my friend. He’d been attracted to my online profile and writing ramblings… we’d connected almost immediately. Arthur J. Willhelm‘s the name, and writing poetry is his game. He was the first person I met formally after parking around the corner from The Working Artist. I felt like we’d known each other for ages.

So, OK, let’s now cut out the rest of the formalities, and skip to the good shit… After about 30 minutes of mingling, the event started, and each person read aloud for up to 15 minutes. The amount of talent in the room that night was immense… poetry slams, hot verbiage and tempered feelings poured out of each person’s mouth, one right after the other. And shit, the support we showed toward each other was a sight to behold.

Then, at about 8:40PM, after the last of us got up onstage, we went back to the meet and greet portion of the evening. Strangers even came up to me to say congratulations and told me what a great job I’d done. Then I, in return, passed positive vibes back to my fellow creatives. Truthfully, the ones I’d met that night, they’re going places. And, I can’t hardly wait to gather with them again next year.

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The General’s Libations of Freedom

July 17, 2018
by josephafederico

I had been to Mount Vernon before, a lovely trip it was, about four years ago. Now, as you’ve been reading here on my blog, I’m a historian – a mere man who vows to tell history like it was – but, my utmost calling is that of the bloody, exciting, and treacherous tale of the America Revolution. And, not to mention, my focus there, amongst the great leaders of that time, is and has been General George Washington.

To, quite literally, stand where the father of our great country stood, and touch items that Washington touched, is an important honor, one that most don’t understand and should, in my opinion, only be bestowed upon a few who are actually deserving. Having visited Washington’s home changed my life.

Years ago, during my first visit through the museum, I’d challenged myself to trivia about the General’s life and enveloped myself into the time when one of the greatest men that ever walked the earth lived. It was an exciting time, a time of great change and utmost uncertainty. And, Washington withstood it all, from start to finish.

One of the most educational experiences for me that stood out during my first visit, was learning about George Washington’s death, and how out young country handled the aftermath of such a profound man’s existence. The sadness I felt, the loss millions felt back then, took its toll on me. By the time I got to the end of the exhibit, I was practically in tears.

This time around, however, during my second visit and probably my last one for a while, I took away two important experiences. The first being learning a little unknown fact while on the “National Treasure” tour. Bob, our tour guide, told us, at the end of the trip, with the mighty Potomac to our backs, that Washington insisted on being called “General Washington.” The once-president, having served his two terms, had recently retired, and told guests that visited his estate, that only the current president of the time was to labelled as so, and he was, in fact, just the General.

I found that so humbling and my love for the once-southern gentleman grew leaps and bounds that day.

The second item that stuck with me is one of authenticity. After my group finished touring Mount Vernon, was spent some time at the Mount Vernon Inn, enjoying each other’s company and local libations. After sampling some popular cocktails and Budweiser’s Freedom Reserve (Red Lager) – the drink that was recently released under one of the closest recipes to that of George Washington’s back in the day – I was in the mood for something stronger, more authentic.

I turned to the bartender and said, “I’m in the mood for something colonial… you know, something strong… something the founding fathers would have had.” So, without hesitation, she turned back to me and said, “How about the Fish House Punch?” Legend has it, that after the war was won, Washington took to a local tavern with his men and toasted the 13 colonies… 13 times… with steins full of Fish House Punch. Now, Washington was an impeccable record keeper, but after his party, he didn’t keep any records for three days. There had been a mysterious jump in time when no words were written whatsoever. So, when I say that the punch was lethal, it was strong!

And now, without further adieu, here is the recipe for the drink that forced time to stop in its tracks…

Ingredients
Jamaican rum, 2 qts
Cognac brandy, 1 qt
Loaf sugar, 3/4 lb
Water, 2 qts; spring water is indicated
Lemon juice, 1 qt; lime would have been even more delicate
Peach brandy, 1 wine glass

Directions
Mix ingredients into a clear punch bowl and refrigerate for three hours. Serve cold with fine slices of citrus fruit.

Have you been to Mount Vernon? What was your most memorable experience there?

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On the road to glory

July 9, 2018
by josephafederico

It was Forth of July weekend, 2017, and I prepared to travel to Setauket, Long Island – the historic location where the spy ring formed so many centuries ago.

I had been working with Nicholas Dalrymple – a young reenactor who’d been portraying Joseph McCracken since he was but a boy – on historical projects of my own, and it just so happened he had been chosen to portray the great Alexander Hamilton in a full-length feature film called, “One Life to Give.” Before I knew it, because of my proximity to the lad, Michael Tessler, the film’s writer, had invited me to partake in the festivities.

The heat took a heavy toll on me that evening as I left the comforts of New Jersey for the Long Island shores, but my spirits were high. After all, I’d always wanted to be in a live action movie, and the opportunity had presented itself… I wasn’t going to turn it down by any means. It took approximately three hours to get to the farm, the filming location and historic battleground where part of the Battle of Long Island actually took place. But weeks before, historians found a cannonball that dated back to the 18th century. Talk about authenticity…

As I pulled into Setauket, ghostly fifes and drums banged around in my head, as if my soul had recognized the area and had been there before. The sky drew darker and a local radio station blared factoids regarding Washington’s and Jefferson’s love and obsession for ice cream. Then approximately twenty minutes later, I arrived at the mouth of the farm; I took a deep breath, as if preparing to meet the Commander in Chief himself, and climbed the dusty winding road.

Three men greeted me upon arrival – Sam, a privateer reenactor, a glorious young man we called “Nugget,” and Jeff, a makeup artist. We exchanged introductions and salutations, as unwritten plotlines unraveled in our mind’s eyes as to how the rest of the weekend was to play out. Then, Master Tessler greeted me with a strong handshake, bear hug and a big “thank you” for quite literally taking part in history. Shortly after that, those still filming wandered from behind the scenes to join the rest of the cast and crew at home base.

One member of the cast, Laura, portraying a nurse, was the first face I’d recognized, as we’d met unofficially on Instagram, and the second was Nicholas Dalrymple. He sure was hot and sweaty, but his face lit up the moment he saw me. We formally introduced each other, as we’d only met over the phone, and he gave me a big hug. It was comforting to be surrounded by those I knew, even of they were friends from the internet.

I grabbed a quick bite to eat, then had to get kitted up shortly after. Nicholas wasn’t messing around and I was anxiously awaiting to head back to the 18th century. Now, as intricately as a man may have dressed back then, it was no easy feat actually putting the clothes on, and, to a modern man, the process was a bit risqué, especially in such heat, to say the least…

First came the stockings then the shirt. The shirt served as yes, a shirt, but also as a man’s underwear, covering the buttock and genitals. It tucked into the breeches, which came next. Honestly, it’s best to tuck the boys in comfortably, if you know what I’m saying. After you’re snug in your breeches, the cravat was put on next, then your vest. Nick assisted me and with each piece that was placed on my person, the modern world melted away quicker and quicker. Unfortunately, the more dandy-esque vest was too small for me, but what I had on did the trick nicely. I buttoned the buttons on my breaches by the leg openings and popped on the tricorne hat. That was the last piece of clothing that made the transformation complete. Everybody around me was quite impressed and I not only felt like a movie star on location, but also like a true soldier about the fight for liberty.

I then made my way over to some unfamiliar cast and crew members to get acquainted with them, as the rest of the crew prepared to film a scene in George Washington’s tent. Actor David Gianopoulos was there that night, too, playing the Commander in Chief.

The rest of the night consisted of watching Nicholas, Mike, David and other men film said scene, which was pretty wild, and catching up with extras by candlelight. Essentially, it was night number one of a very specific adult summer camp.

Several hours later, the scene finally wrapped and I was off to a local college with Nicholas and his crew. Although the shower had been locked, it was heavenly to have a bed all to myself, running water and air conditioning. What a treat it was and quite the respite that was needed in order to gear up for the following day.

By, let’s say, 10:00AM that next morning, it was time to get back on set. Now, I won’t bore you with the gory details, but here are some of the highlights I found most memorable: 1. Watching the fort come together out of thin air. 2. Listening to the Declaration of Independence being read on Fourth of July weekend. 3. Singing “Drunken Sailor” at the top of my lungs during tavern night.

Now, what I didn’t quite enjoy, however, was sporting a wool overcoat, wool cap and a million pound musket throughout the day on Saturday. Jesus, I must have lost my weight in sweat that day, but I will say, that as a historian, it gave me a much deeper appreciation for what those soldiers and founding fathers went through for many moons ago, fighting or freedom. And hell, I did look pretty authentic so, it wasn’t all that bad.

After tavern night, I was beyond exhausted and my eyes literally were popping out of my skull due to extreme exhaustion. The pup tents were set up by the cars, so I immediately grabbed one and set my belongings inside. I disrobed, peeling off all my historical garb, then changed into lighter sleepwear.

The weather was balmy and sticky, so I got into my sleeping bag and prayed to General Washington that I’d make it through the night. Approximately several hundred ants then decided to hatch under my tent, so I had to battle with God’s beasts for another hour, getting nowhere, of course. Those bastards bit every inch of me, as I threw feet and fists their way just to attempt to get somewhat decent shut eye. Alas, to no avail… I passed out in frustration and deeper exhaustion, while visions of fireworks blurred through my head.

I awoke somewhat unscathed from the battle I was thrust into the night before. I really did have the best intentions of muddling through the day and partaking in the big battle scene, but I just couldn’t take it. I ran to the John almost immediately after waking up, then went back to camp to try to salvage what was left of the morning. Mother Nature had other plans for me, though, and decided to allow a tick to crawl up the back of my leg… I had to scrape the thing off my skin and throw it back into the dirt where it came from.

Needless to say, that was the last straw for this soldier. I gave the garb back to Nicholas, passed out business cards to my connections, hugged Mike, threw my shit into the car without so much as even packing it up neatly and headed for the hills! I’m a city boy who likes creature comforts and was just done.

As I headed back to society, I stopped at a local bagel place and fueled up for the ride home. About ten minutes later, I attacked a plain bagel and cream cheese and had slop running down my cheeks. I yelled lyrics to a familiar reggae song that came in from one of the only stations on the island.

To say I had a revolutionary experience that weekend would be an understatement. I learned what it was like to finally be in a movie, got a newfound appreciation for 18th century history and met some interesting people along the way. I most likely won’t become a reenactor anytime soon, but may wind up being a historical interpreter as a permanent fixture in years to come, teaching passersby about book binding and the printing press.

To those I’d met on set last summer, Huzzah! May “One Life to Give” bring you all great success.