{"id":37,"date":"2009-07-14T12:04:12","date_gmt":"2009-07-14T17:04:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/fullofcrow.com\/prate\/?p=37"},"modified":"2009-07-14T12:04:12","modified_gmt":"2009-07-14T17:04:12","slug":"nadineseller","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/","title":{"rendered":"Nadine Sellers"},"content":{"rendered":"

Aleathia Drehmer interviewing Nadine Sellers. <\/em><\/p>\n

Nadine Sellers
\nPrate Interview 2009<\/p>\n

“As a freelance writer, i mock commercial imperialism, as a timeless artist i savor inviolate freedom across all disciplines. I have traveled through norms and fashions to emerge stronger, surer of my role, to dislodge, to unsettle. To awaken the pleasant, the unpleasant; the whole being within.<\/p>\n

Words untamed paint visions across natural landscapes of minds without frontiers. Poignant phrases cut through the obvious to reveal the personal yet universal toll of immigration. Pungent verse uncover the human animal in a sensuous visceral voyage.”<\/em>– Nadine Sellers<\/p>\n

AD: What is your favorite memory of Southwestern France?<\/p>\n

NS: My favorite memory of the South of France may be the day I counted seventy-five fleas on my farm dog’s fur. The farm was my grand-mother’s, the dog was my cousin’s and I was princess of the wastelands where the sheep were free to graze.<\/p>\n

I constructed a tent out of my long wool cape, curled up under the wind shelter and proceeded to scratch; dog joined me and between bites of goat cheese sandwich, I performed my human duty as organic manual insecticide.<\/p>\n

My earthly consciousness and responsibility evolved thereafter.
\nWolves had long roamed the hilltops there, wild women had populated the villages, I let my imagination grab every shadow between only-child syndrome and catholic leftovers.<\/p>\n

AD: Do you think your “only child syndrome” allowed you more freedom to have your own identity, or do you feel like you missed out on the experience of having a sibling, having some shared bond of blood? Do you think those wolves and wild women and hills lead you to writing?<\/p>\n

NS: Having been given up to maternal family shortly after birth, I grew a sense of otherliness which fed my nomadic impulse. Around the age of three, the chronology of events sped the maturing processes to high gear when grand-mere failed to awaken from the operating table; aunts were tearfully scattered across Normandy. Uprooted and bundled on a train, I was returned postage free, to original pro-creators. Soon to be gifted to the paternal side of the inheritance spectrum. A dark mansion upon a hill, forbidden rooms and resentful hosts filled long days of single purpose; grow quickly and be useful. A succession of nannies and bitter farmer’s wives took turn adoring and teaching the way to work.<\/p>\n

Days spent caring for stock and the minor arts of food conservation, formed a hard crust upon which femina relied for stability. Bedrock of solid history, cast in limestone and fossil friends. Animals, my childish solace. Bits of ancient identity emerged from the local architecture, one gravestone at a time, one steeple to the sky.<\/p>\n

The essential loneliness instructed the course of my being. Nuns in winter, sheep in summer, from early Latin to bleating, language evolved until I bled solitary words onto pages under the school desk. Duly chastised and dented, it didn’t take too long to learn to hide what would become a first aborted book of French poetry.<\/p>\n

Cousins and aunts demonstrated that the competition to the food line is shorter than the distance between loving arms. I had no trouble securing love from strangers, but family fiercely withheld its lineage rights from the three foot threat born in the North of the country.<\/p>\n

Refuge came in the form of language, an escape above inhospitable ground, a place beyond my eyes where I could slip unnoticed. Populated with kind women, gentle men and a real cat or perhaps a fox, I began to build shelters, wombs in extension. The nesting instinct revealed in surround-word.<\/p>\n

Not given to cults or clubs, I entertain the wildness within, translate dark wolves into tan coyotes and feed the anima which instruct present behavior. A measure of practiced loneliness envelops the necessary pockets of time among daily interaction. I am still a part-time hermit.<\/p>\n

Only in America did I later find spiritual sisters and only in those who had sisters in flesh. Had I had a sibling I would have dissipated my creative energies in a more physical form of expression; like talking, textile and visual arts. Altruism and nurturing basis would have vandalized the cerebra at the expense of literary froth.<\/p>\n

AD: At what age did you come to America and where did you settle? How different was this place in comparison to the land of your birth?<\/p>\n

NS: Lucid dreams of Africa permeated my youth, Docteur Leaky, the great Rift Valley, Brazzaville nuns in flying gray robes sweating over swollen children, swatting flies from their eyes, all walking along my regimented school girl days. Whatever Mother Superior approved of, mother inferior promptly slapped from consciousness. Not permitted to don the habit nor the rituals, I was swiftly migrated to public education.<\/p>\n

By the early teens, I had resorted to linguistic skills to transport the emotional orphan into an intellectual plane across borders, across limitations. Latin by ten, Greek next year, English and German by thirteen, self taught romance languages and some Russian to write, Arabic to add: every spare auto-didactic cell filled to oblivion with foreign philosophies earned me a ticket to precocious praise. A precarious balance to offset perennial disapproval.<\/p>\n

Fugues from quotidian tedium allowed me to survive a strict city life fraught with blind obedience and weighted with the price of the unwanted. The girl child undeserving of land rights would soon enough plan to study in Australia. The alphabet and the stars did not cooperate, instead, the spelling was exciting enough…anywhere but the land of parental scorn and negation.<\/p>\n

America came to me by chance. Married, innocent and mommyfied, I signed two hundred and twenty-six sundry pieces of paper in a language I scarcely knew from school books. Elegantly laden with bags and bottles I arrived in New Jersey, matching hat and gloves, a white suit which I had sewn especially for the trip to meet in-laws in New England. Instead this twenty something little maman was met by government workers growling orders and handling precious immigration data with brusque gestures.<\/p>\n

After hot hours huddled in a Quonset hut full of tired Italian grape pickers and confused Spaniard farm workers, my idea of international hospitality had morphed into nascent activism for the plight of emigres everywhere; and most certainly for the dreamers of decency. This was my first immigration. In the airport, I could not see one person with a dress; shorts, shorts all around, tank tops and jeans, I was an over-dressed stranger in sloppy-land.<\/p>\n

Colors screamed, loud speakers competed with complaints. Children ran around tanned legs, stepping on flip-flop toes. I silenced my fashionable heels and held my proud progeny close.<\/p>\n

AD: Do you think, at the time of your immigration, that America appeared to you as a land that lacked grace and tradition? What do you think of America now that you have lived here a long time?<\/p>\n

NS: AH! America? A school girl in the uniform of my old Alma Mater, my bleached soul, sits on the number fourteen bus going by my ancestral village. She turns to her friends who have apparently elected her to approach me. A photo has recently appeared front and center announcing this prodigal poet’s performance at the theater. I nod an almost imperceptible sign of acquiescence, measured not to offend nor seem too eager. The question arrives wrapped in a steady soft voice \u201c is the American dream still valid?\u201d; a cultural science class project.
\nI had immigrated to the Western desert three times, as if drawn by a cord of purpose, each a return to the mystical attraction of land and language. Leaving grace and tradition behind for the pleasure of asceticism and self containment.
\nOpen space, open opportunity, and the anonymity of mass provide a blank screen behind which the artist may rest and reshape the selective beauty of being. This is the environment of novelty; the soil of challenge. Yes, I answer, \u201cthe American dream is valid\u201d, not as a bite of meat, nor as a mint julep or a statement t-shirt. Rather the dream is an ideal of invincibility emanating from a blast of images marketed as freedom.
\nCrass patriotic behavior first appeared to me as immaturity, a land of deceptively soft men, eager to satisfy territorial hunting instinct. Women devoid of power to deflect or disarm rude advances. Children ruling from two feet of narcissistic privilege. The balance of hedonism crashed on desert sand, left to spoil in obscene waste. Natives desiccated in the search for misplaced dignity. This was the new world in which I chose to hide.
\nEducation and communication has since elevated the status of the critical American, apparently not sufficiently to avoid the pitfalls of economic, ecologic or intellectual breakdown. Cowboys drive Hummers, Indians chew tobacco and excess pollutes the irrigation ditch. Emotional and commercial balance become elusive qualities in a place where individual health is a cement ball disintegrating at the foot of mount Olympus.
\nIf the Toynbee principle of push and pull drives global migration, then grace shrinks to social leftovers. Never mind the rude, the ugly or the delinquent, the obsessed define the availability of opportunity in these here walls now. If tradition can survive dislocation, success will follow personal aspiration. Manners be put to rest; essential concern for ordinary life has bobbed out of the mire since energy has curtailed rampant expansionism from the average toiler’s expectations.
\nDo I hear a lovable American sneaking back from the disillusioned throng. Dream on! Mutual respect and fat hugs remain the main attraction: cyber-hugs and hermetic bisous anyone?
\nAD: Ah. It appears that you consider me to be a lover of “the American Dream,” but that idea was disillusioned in me many years ago. I am not a radical person, or live off the grid, but I do lay low in this land of privilege and forgotten manners where money rules everything. I know you are in the Midwest, the heart of America. Do you find the locals receptive to your style of writing? It is also my understanding that you and your husband create together. What sort of pieces do you perform for the public?
\nNS: Ha! This is the payload question which I had waited for…NO, no, I do not consider you a lover of the American dream hypothesis…and neither do I include myself in the ballgame. The dynamics of hospitality and enmity enter only in the general perception of the social structure around us. Polarizing factors have sculpted a jagged divide in affective politics. Media have collated a strangling mesh of mis-information which breeds convenient fears. That’s why I resort to foreign sources for broader views. Yes, I sense signs of fertility in the present regression, less is more manageable. French wit may be encouraging, morality comforting, culture enriching, but at times a simple American hug has the power of healing. Am I dreaming?
\nMoney? Spelled as greed and avarice, oh yes, it rules, it corrupts, if acquired in obscene quantities. Wages are used as bait and tool of manipulation in America, while in France they are predominantly seen as deserved status symbol. Labor parties have carved a swath through business and brought respectability, health-care and education to workers there; mostly by the arts of argument and the leverage of spontaneous strikes. Have you ever seen regurgitating airports and mass transit stand-offs?
\nTornado alley has been kind to me personally, as I work for locals and own an historic building. A substratum of xenophobia is kept just under some teeth, while the educational establishment cherishes the inclusion of a poet. Our interactions are limited to grocery shopping at the micro-consumer level, and a monthly walking tour of the utilities and post-office around the town square. A half tank lasts 7 months between mushroom and greens foraging. Even the bicycles rust between intervals, we haven’t gone to any town within 2 years; that’s life near the inland aorta, where we settled by crude happenstance three years ago.
\nWhat I do miss is the innate subtlety, the small gesture, the covert smile, honest contact and the knowledge that the neighborhood will be spontaneously supportive, only when and if needed. This may be the basis for social interaction in France, a dignified distance along with respect for individuality. Easy to misunderstand as snobbery, especially since nostril flaring and brief puffs of air are standard signals for public judgment.
\nHere, some are aware of my writing, as I have donated 2 CDs of older spoken-word on music to the Carnegie Library, some have read the dormant green sites, shake their heads and serve flattering platitudes. Although they have at least a century of local history under their belts, many are strangely estranged from the rich natural surroundings. Few can or would identify edible plants, this works to our advantage, all manner of treasure arrives to us through my work, wild bee hive, catfish, geese, cottontails, turkey and deer…which I process and hoard for long winters. The garden and chickens provide the rest. Call us fregans with a bare footprint.
\nMy husband and I collaborated on several CDs over the years, his sound engineering and musical art have been instrumental in producing professional material . He also played bass with Band Of Ones on a couple of gigs while I performed in Little Rock in the early nineties. Richard has digitized some of my previous readings. Now to save whatever is viable after two decades of ballads and ballast in the undertow. I am now learning to compile a CD of French works recorded for radio with French musicians in the eighties, revisit aurally; close eyes, lay limp with shallow breath.
\nAlthough the French are not socially exclusive, in the field of arts and technology, a barely perceptible pride curls the lips of performers when opening doors to new audio-visual concepts. Many do embrace and emulate American talent with varying degrees of elasticity. Upon my return home, I found myself in an uncomfortable cultural dichotomy, like a bastardized baguette of Franco-American bread, crusty on the outside with tender and pungent dough steaming within.
\nAs former performer and lecturer, I only have done residence programs for local schools to open a few eyes and ears to the breath within. I offered the liberating premise that art need be understood as original intent, but rather as whatever it calls in mind and memory. Poetry holds a strange place in rural areas, just as in provincial France, it is accepted as a palliative for grief or cheer for ills of mind and mood. But to those who delve below the societal angst, it supplies relief from traditional strictures.
\nAD: Do you see consider yourself a recluse? The description of your environment made me feel all Robert Frost inside. Do you believe this self-imposed isolation keeps you from expanding into the universe of consumerism, war, and economics, or at least keeps it at bay to consider the forgotten things in the world?
\nNS: Astute premise here, uncovering a long dormant fault where old words ferment in various stages of translation…I do hope you digest the results without a case of acute discomfort. Suddenly inspired to probe the white on white differences drowned in the Atlantic during transfer of separate yet equal identities. Thanks to you, I may yet slide out that long overdue essay about the merits of ancestral consciousness.
\nRecluse that I am, perhaps not as hermetic as I would like to be, I enjoy a certain perverse ideology of singularity. That only child nestled in wind shelters upon Cro-Magnon hills, that woman nurturing her children in desert caves, that is the perennial recluse which I have fancied myself to be. Unsettling excursions into the hustling world of arts and business have convinced me that the solitary womb suits my temperament best. I said womb not tomb; not to bury personality but as you intimate, protect the self from banal or feral intrusions of quotidium.
\nWere it not for present necessity to enslave my minor skills for subsistence, I would relish the time to cultivate healthful isolation, a lifestyle devoid of intrusive road noise and extraneous social intercourse. Having no television or cell phone and assorted gadgetry keeps much of my original logic in its soupy state
\nNo, I don’t need imposed or self imposed distance between consumerism, war and economics as I never have been prey to commercial or sensational input. Choices made at different intervals have provided me with varied and wide empirical material, enough to satisfy the writer, the woman and the lover.
\nNow is the time to brew the reflections and observations garnered along the crags of a life worth writing. Or is it a write worth living?
\nAD: Do you think we write our own lives, meaning, do you find that every action put forth, every word spoken, every heart touched, every grace given changes the direction our lives will go in?
\nNS: The first of my three emigrations led me to the western deserts, I spent seven years co-surviving with my children there. Caves and abandoned mines our temporary shelters. All the acquired skills learned in France were adapted to the harshest environment and we responded to the scarcity of resources with synergistic character. Did I invent poverty to suit a preservation instinct? Or did I respond to moral principles which dictated that a woman follows her man, albeit mostly absent, till death?
\nHaving been widowed so young, I returned home close to where two of my sons were born. I had lost the ability to speak my native tongue, met ostracism full face. Job commutes were lengthy and unsafe in some Parisian districts, yet I ventured in forbidden immigrant areas , feeling protected by a fierce will to live, to create, to share. This force informed much of my budding artistry. I followed it assiduously.
\nWas I translating a future memoir? Inscribing a mental journal based on ancient alternate consciousness? I could have become a Zen practitioner, so dedicated was I to building nests for my family. The script was not written in any Dr. Spock book, the behavior was not evolving from a romance novel. My only companions were miner’s magazines and paperbacks, broke my mind’s teeth on greasy classics found in dusty cabins with notes on table or shelf; \u201cplease leave the place as you have found it and bring canned goods whenever you pass this way again\u201d or such sharing grace. Thank you Vonnegut, Abby or Steinbeck!
\nNot until I had walked a thousand miles on hot sands did I realize that I had contributed to my emotional withdrawal from language and mannerism. I can trace the travails through photographs taken by strangers in the deserts. And now through retracing these steps and notes which have been traveling companions through 21 countries and 3 continents. The trail leads to a saner place, wind has stopped blowing and the relative peace seems eerie…because I know there is work to be done.
\nThere are stories to inform, knowledge to donate, and after so much tempering of a personae, could I humbly request a vacation to enjoy? Senses at rest, I drown in word and sound, swirling about me, finally free of expectation…I write, a life; merci!<\/p>\n

Nadine Sellers On The Web.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Aleathia Drehmer interviewing Nadine Sellers. Nadine Sellers Prate Interview 2009 “As a freelance writer, i mock commercial imperialism, as a timeless artist i savor inviolate freedom across all disciplines. I have traveled through norms and fashions to emerge stronger, surer of my role, to dislodge, to unsettle. To awaken the pleasant, the unpleasant; the whole […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[58],"tags":[41],"class_list":["post-37","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-all-interviews","tag-nadine-sellers"],"yoast_head":"\nNadine Sellers | PRATE @ Full of Crow<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Nadine Sellers | PRATE @ Full of Crow\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Aleathia Drehmer interviewing Nadine Sellers. Nadine Sellers Prate Interview 2009 “As a freelance writer, i mock commercial imperialism, as a timeless artist i savor inviolate freedom across all disciplines. I have traveled through norms and fashions to emerge stronger, surer of my role, to dislodge, to unsettle. To awaken the pleasant, the unpleasant; the whole […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"PRATE @ Full of Crow\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/fullofcrow\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2009-07-14T17:04:12+00:00\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Elynn Alexander\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:creator\" content=\"@fullofcrow\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:site\" content=\"@fullofcrow\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Elynn Alexander\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"16 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Elynn Alexander\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/person\/2feca66a7bdc8f2c6aaadae9689c0bb6\"},\"headline\":\"Nadine Sellers\",\"datePublished\":\"2009-07-14T17:04:12+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/\"},\"wordCount\":3211,\"commentCount\":0,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#organization\"},\"keywords\":[\"Nadine Sellers\"],\"articleSection\":[\"All Interviews\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/\",\"name\":\"Nadine Sellers | PRATE @ Full of Crow\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#website\"},\"datePublished\":\"2009-07-14T17:04:12+00:00\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"Nadine Sellers\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/\",\"name\":\"PRATE @ Full of Crow\",\"description\":\""To talk on and on". "Meandering".\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#organization\",\"name\":\"Full of Crow Press and Distribution\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/Full-of-Crow-Online.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/Full-of-Crow-Online.jpg\",\"width\":600,\"height\":300,\"caption\":\"Full of Crow Press and Distribution\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\"},\"sameAs\":[\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/fullofcrow\/\",\"https:\/\/x.com\/fullofcrow\",\"http:\/\/@fullofcrowpress\"]},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/person\/2feca66a7bdc8f2c6aaadae9689c0bb6\",\"name\":\"Elynn Alexander\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/1b91a00ad22170e8de2726e4754257a99ed73d3eb734bf3f31661070feb52f64?s=96&d=blank&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/1b91a00ad22170e8de2726e4754257a99ed73d3eb734bf3f31661070feb52f64?s=96&d=blank&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Elynn Alexander\"},\"sameAs\":[\"http:\/\/www.elynnalexander.com\"]}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Nadine Sellers | PRATE @ Full of Crow","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"Nadine Sellers | PRATE @ Full of Crow","og_description":"Aleathia Drehmer interviewing Nadine Sellers. Nadine Sellers Prate Interview 2009 “As a freelance writer, i mock commercial imperialism, as a timeless artist i savor inviolate freedom across all disciplines. I have traveled through norms and fashions to emerge stronger, surer of my role, to dislodge, to unsettle. To awaken the pleasant, the unpleasant; the whole […]","og_url":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/","og_site_name":"PRATE @ Full of Crow","article_publisher":"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/fullofcrow\/","article_published_time":"2009-07-14T17:04:12+00:00","author":"Elynn Alexander","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_creator":"@fullofcrow","twitter_site":"@fullofcrow","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Elynn Alexander","Est. reading time":"16 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/"},"author":{"name":"Elynn Alexander","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/person\/2feca66a7bdc8f2c6aaadae9689c0bb6"},"headline":"Nadine Sellers","datePublished":"2009-07-14T17:04:12+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/"},"wordCount":3211,"commentCount":0,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#organization"},"keywords":["Nadine Sellers"],"articleSection":["All Interviews"],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/","url":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/","name":"Nadine Sellers | PRATE @ Full of Crow","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#website"},"datePublished":"2009-07-14T17:04:12+00:00","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/"]}]},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/2009\/07\/nadineseller\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"Nadine Sellers"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#website","url":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/","name":"PRATE @ Full of Crow","description":""To talk on and on". "Meandering".","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#organization","name":"Full of Crow Press and Distribution","url":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/Full-of-Crow-Online.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/Full-of-Crow-Online.jpg","width":600,"height":300,"caption":"Full of Crow Press and Distribution"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"},"sameAs":["https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/fullofcrow\/","https:\/\/x.com\/fullofcrow","http:\/\/@fullofcrowpress"]},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/person\/2feca66a7bdc8f2c6aaadae9689c0bb6","name":"Elynn Alexander","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/1b91a00ad22170e8de2726e4754257a99ed73d3eb734bf3f31661070feb52f64?s=96&d=blank&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/1b91a00ad22170e8de2726e4754257a99ed73d3eb734bf3f31661070feb52f64?s=96&d=blank&r=g","caption":"Elynn Alexander"},"sameAs":["http:\/\/www.elynnalexander.com"]}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=37"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/37\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=37"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=37"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/prate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=37"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}