Mona Lisa's Journey of Discovery

Slippery slide

2008-06-16T21:27:00.001-04:00

I haven't stopped writing since I got back from Nashville. My brain is tired. Yesterday was the first day I just decided to be a vegetable. I sat in front of the damn tube for most of the day and felt guilty the whole time. Truth be told, I just needed to filter out some debris. I'm back at it again, and as suspected I just keep going deeper and deeper.

This project, Naked and Raw, has been profound in that the layers just keep coming off and it gets closer and closer to the core. My mind hasn't stepped out of this book since its inception in Nashville. It's a part of me in every respect, while working, sleeping, eating, reading, and every other function I'm involved in on a daily basis. I suppose I'm actually living the passion instead of thinking about it.

It's been said to be careful what you ask for, you just might get it. I asked, I got it, and there is no going back. Living within the layers of one's self is quite intoxicating and very exhausting. But, it's the most amazing revelation for me yet.

On a seesaw with splinters in my ass

2008-06-11T17:26:00.002-04:00

So here I am at work again and hating every minute of it. I guess I should be grateful that I have a job in these desperate times, but honestly, I am so over it. Half the time I'm bitter about having to play this game and the other half I'm depressed that things aren't different.

Sometimes it just gets so hard to keep a positive mental attitude and believe that things will change and get better. Truthfully, I'm just plain tired. I've spent a lifetime taking care of others and making sure their needs are met and their lives are as comfortable as possible. I've sacrificed to the gills and frankly, I want to be on the receiving end of that deal for once. Yep, never thought I'd say it, let alone write it down. I've spent a lifetime being a fiercely independent, self-sufficient woman that has never asked for help or let her fears and weaknesses rise to the surface. It's been a hell of a ride.

It just seems lately like I want to pull the covers over my head and say fuck it! Now, whenever I've felt this way in the past, the signifcant others in my life have made the comment that it must be my time of the month. How damn cliche is that? Truth be told, I've spent the first half in a constant battle to do the right thing, follow the rules, meet expectations, and be responsible. I'm starting the second half and I want to throw caution to the wind, not give a damn about anyone but me and what I want, take risks, and above all live my dream at any cost.

Now that's a conundrum, don't you think? How's that for extremes? Today I woke up and said, "Fuck It" and threw the covers on the floor. I want what I want and I deserve to have it, it's my time, so I suppose that means my personal universe is a "ME" driven place right now. Feels damn good.

I’m damn exhausted but it feels good

2008-06-08T16:29:00.004-04:00

It's been a busy weekend. I've been rearranging my room and setting things up for the long haul to create an environment that fuels my desire to write. The best thing I could have done was finally accomplished this weekend. I took the TV out of my room. I realized that I had this pattern beginning of coming home, puttering around the house and then plopping down in bed and clicking on the tube. I guess it was part of my way to deal with the writer's block. Maybe it helped keep it going in some ways.

So, now with the tube absent, I've been back to listening to music again, and I find myself at the keyboard slamming away for hours at end. What an amazingly fabulous feeling. Naked and Raw has been a catalyst for me as far as getting the words out. I'm amazed with every new piece that comes out of my current state of mind. Though I finally possess an inner peace and feel like life is on the upswing, the pieces are dark and powerful.

The whole purpose for this book is to put out all of the things I've held inside, the truly relevant work that observes my life from the outside in. Due to my life altering experience in Nashville, I'm able to do this without worrying about what people will think or how they will react. I can now be an observer of my own experiences, viewpoints and ideas, and put them out there the way I always wanted to. It is liberating to say the least.

Though the weight of many things have lifted from my shoulders and I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I can also be proud to say I do not deny that the dark side of me is the well of my inspiration and it's from that place that my best writing emerges. That dark side is by no means an indication of who I am as a person, but where I've been as a writer. I no longer feel the need to apologize or rationalize any of it.

As I stated before, I have come to realize my purpose and the reason for my unquenchable passion for writing. Even if I can affect one life, I will have accomplished what I have set out to do.

Introduction to Naked and Raw (Soon to be published)

2008-06-05T15:36:00.003-04:00

Standing under the crackling song of the power lines above my head, a transformation began. Nature surrounded me like a womb of sound, scent, and comfort. At that moment in time, I was the only being on Earth, and I reveled in the solitude and splendor. Two nights later, I was in that same spot, with the help of a gift from the Universe, releasing the suffocating darkness that had become my existence. The smoke drifted around my body, separating me from everything but myself. I greedily inhaled the heady smoke, breathed it in with desolate passion, only to release it into the sky again. My personal demons were holding on with the fervor only parasites can gain from their host. The soft murmur from my guide penetrated me like fingers sliding across satin on a cool day. I opened my mouth to scream at the sky and ask why, when suddenly my eyes turned into myself and I knew. I understood my purpose, my calling, the sacrifices that come with it and the joy that will be the end result. I thought I would have to dig deep for the right words and emotions to pen the work that resides between the covers of this book, but I know now that they will flow like the smoke that circled my head and drifted into the night.

Aftermath

love is the bastard creation of lust
trust in forever and forever more
abhor the silence when there's
nothing left to say
I love you becomes the hollow sound
that keeps you bound to fallacies
reflected in eyes gone tacit

tears a mere consolation
prize for second place
in a race for the dissolution
of nights alone
solo footsteps to the bed
waiting to suffocate me in my solitude
exude my passions spattered on the wall
as they drip into puddles of laughter
in the hereafter

after I've been here

Epiphanous

2008-06-04T23:56:00.003-04:00

It's been a while since I've written and much has transpired. I spent four life altering days in Nashville visiting two dear friends. I can't, or should I say I won't go into much detail about the trip, because it is very personal to me. Now that's a surprise coming from the woman who doesn't hesitate to share everything. This is very different. and interestingly enough the most amazing coincidence ever happened after that trip.

Standing under the crackling song of the power lines over my head, a transformation began. Nature surrounded me like a womb of sound, scent, and comfort. At that moment in time I was the only being on Earth, and I reveled in the solitude and splendor.

Two nights later I was in that same spot, with the help of a gift from the Universe, releasing the suffocating darkness that had become my existance. The smoke drifted around my body, separating me from everything but myself. I greedily inhaled the heady smoke, breathed it in, ony to release it into the sky. My personal demons were holding on with the fervor only parsites can gain from their host. The soft murmur from my guide penetrated me like fingers sliding across satin on a cool day. I opened my mouth to scream at the sky and ask why, when suddenly my eyes turned into myself and I knew. I understood my purpose, my calling, the sacrifices that come with it and the joy that will be the end result.

This experience was the outcome of a smudging ritual. I thought I would have to dig deep for the right words and emotions to pen the work that will be in my upcoming book "Naked and Raw" but I know now that they will flow like the smoke that circled my head and drifted into the night. What a gift...

Wow

2008-05-22T23:17:00.002-04:00

I went to the Lobby in St. Pete last night and it was an amazingly inspirational time. That seems to be happening a lot lately. I revel in being surrounded by talented, down to earth people. It renews my view on the better things in life and makes the not so good stuff seem like the small stuff it is.

I am preparing for a trip to Nashville, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, and I'm so thrilled knowing I'm going to meet even more awesome people. There is a sense of joy in knowing that one can step outside of the day to day grind of having to "make it" out there and into a realm of basking in the presence of people that constantly confirm you can rise above it all and follow your dreams. I've spent the greater part of this lifetime being told to let go of my dreams and live in reality. Who's reality? What reality? And...what the hell is reality?

Reality is what you make it. Good, bad, or indifferent, it's all about what you want and how you want to live. Reality is as individual as a fingerprint, a personal thought process, and above all a desire to make the life you have as fabulous as you want it to be. Thanks to the people in my life, it's more fabulous than I'd imagined it could ever be and it keeps getting better.

I am a poet, a writer, and my own unique kind of artist. I can finally embrace that and not feel like I'm slipping into vanity or a sense of being something better than the next person, but in my universe I am proud of who I am, what I have accomplished, and what is yet to come!

In my universe, I am...

Wow

2008-05-22T16:39:00.001-04:00

I am preparing for a trip to Nashville, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, and I'm so thrilled knowing I'm going to meet even more awesome people. There is a sense of joy in knowing that one can step outside of the day to day grind of having to "make it" out there and into a realm of basking in the presence of people that constantly confirm you can rise above it all and follow your dreams.

I've spent the greater part of this lifetime being told to let go of my dreams and live in reality. Who's reality? What reality? And...what the hell is reality? Reality is what you make it. Good, bad, or indifferent, it's all about what you want and how you want to live. Reality is as individual as a fingerprint, a personal thought process, and above all a desire to make the life you have as fabulous as you want it to be.

Thanks to the people in my life, it's more fabulous than I'd imagined it could ever be and it keeps getting better.I am a poet, a writer, and my own unique kind of artist. I can finally embrace that and not feel like I'm slipping into vanity or a sense of being something better than the next person, but in my universe I am proud of who I am, what I have accomplished, and what is yet to come!

In my universe, I am...

Couldn't sleep until I wrote something

2008-05-20T03:35:00.002-04:00

So, yeah, I'm tired as hell and ready for sleep. I tried to lay down and wander off to dream land, but I just couldn't do it without putting something on the page.

I find myself getting more and more excited about my trip to Nashville. Primarily I'm going to visit a very dear person in my life and that means the world to me. Secondly, I not only feel, but know that this trip will be a catalyst of sorts, and that excites me too. I've been weaving in and out of writer's block for several months now, and I've finally learned to embrace it. There is a purpose, though I don't know what it is yet. I do know that when the damn breaks it's gonna be amazing. As much as I've grappled with the why's of not being prolific right now, I've also learned to go with the flow and believe there is a reason for everything.The ideas are raging through me like storm clouds, but my mind can't stop long enough to put it on the screen. I'm keeping track though, so when it hits, I'm ready. I'm just grateful for the support of the people around me, and I'm especially grateful for David. He sees the vision alongside me, however, he believes it, and I'm just learning to. I know being in his presence will infuse me and motivate me to a level I can't even grasp yet. Great things are coming and I'm open.

In my netherzone again

2008-05-18T04:36:00.001-04:00

So, here I am in my netherzone again. I've been up for about an hour now, staring at the blank screen, wondering...

I worked on a poem this weekend, flowed with the groove it put into my head, slammed the words down on the page, and today I hit delete. It just didn't feel right. I know there is something just around the bend, it's niggling at my spine. Lately, every time I write, there is a space between me and my words, like I'm writing behind the veil again. I've meditated, contemplated and ejaculated my existance onto the page, danced between dark and light, hidden the fear of not knowing what to do next, and loved every moment of my evolution.

I've been touched by the hand and the mind of an amazing force in my life, and been grateful that he is...or as he puts it, I am...

I have appealed to the powers that be to guide me toward the resurrection of my creativity.

I have allowed, and been grateful when the Universe provided.

Just moments ago, I stood in the dark, my hands to the sky, a tear on my cheek, the taste of night on my lips and screamed my gratitude in silent splendor, internally, just for me.

Thank you for teaching me not to live through my words, but to let my words live through me, for only when my fingers dance upon the keys, am I truly free.

Inspiration

2008-05-16T23:54:00.002-04:00

I've been basking in the joy of my Wednesday night poetry infustion at the Lobby in St. Petersburg, Florida. I had the opportunity to meet two amazing artists that moved me in ways I haven't been moved in a long time. Their words struck me to the core and made me want to rush home and write. Of course that didn't happen since I got home at 2:30 a.m., got to sleep at 3:30 a.m., and had to get up for work at 7:00 a.m. Nonetheless, it's always worth it to go. Shadokat from North Jersey and Heather from Brooklyn were an absolute treat to the senses.

I realized I had to get back out there, back into the scene, back into my element to help fuel my recent block. It's not so much that I can't write as of late, it's more about not being sure what to write about. There are so many emotions flowing through me right now, and honestly, I'm on overload. Now, I'm not complaining, it's a fabulous feeling and I revel in it. I know it's all part of the process.

I feel as though I'm heading into a new level of creativity and it's inspiring to say the least. It's amazing how things unfold when one "Allows" things to fall into place without trying to make it happen. Inevitably, the Universe always provides and for that I am grateful.

Not a typical Sunday night

2008-05-11T22:56:00.001-04:00

So, here I am on a Sunday night, wondering where my weekend went again. The weekends seem to fly with with unimaginable speed, while the weekdays drag on laboriously. I spent a few hours at a friends house this evening and was amazed at how I felt when I left. I saw two people that are very special to me surrounded by love and passion, even though they are facing hard times right now. They have three young children, boys, who are filled with more energy than I can ever remember having. Though they are raising those three boys in a struggling economy, with so little time for themselves, they still manage to produce amazingly creative work. They are both very driven people with dreams they hold onto with every breath they take. I admire them both so very much.

I have raised my children, both adults now, and I still can't seem to find the energy or drive to make things happen. It scares me. It makes me wonder if the years of struggling to survive have drained me to the point of complacent surrender. I'm really tired. You would think that would be the greatest catalyst of all, wanting to follow my dream and enjoy what time I have left, without the struggle, without being in the box, without having to punch a clock. I actually see this all as a bizarre oxymoron.

The few people I have let get close to me are so amazingly talented and interesting. I thrive around them and am grateful to have them in my life. I know that whatever is holding me back is doing so for a reason. I have tried to deviate away from the style and content of what I have written in the past, and I must say, it's a battle. A very wise man once told me to "write what you know" and I have stuck to that through the years. It's what I don't know that aches to be explored. Problem is, I don't kow what the hell I should be exploring.

This is the quintessential battle between the two sides of me. I feel the time has come to allow the side of me that is most prolific and true to my emotions to run free, unencumbered by any restraints that create the sensation that I've crossed boundaries.

I write what I feel, I write what I experience, I write what I know.

Bizarre but true

2008-05-08T20:46:00.000-04:00

After I got home from work today, I added the new water dish to my snakes' tank and prepared to feed them. I took out the first one and put it in the smaller tank along with the unsuspecting mouse and marveled at how I was watching the food chain in action. The strike was quick, but the feeding took a while. My new addition (not sure if it's male or female yet) slid back and forth over the still mouse and then finally proceeded to eat it. It took quite a while. Then I took Lillith out and repeated the process. She struck quickly and ate just as quickly, As I sat and observed it really caused me to think. Then it dawned on me.

For years I have felt like that mouse. Some people in my life struck quickly but took their time devouring me. Others struck quickly and devoured quickly. Now mind you, I never saw myself as a "mouse", but I did realize I lived for many years like that mouse walking around in a box, waiting for the strike. It's liberating to know that I can or will no longer be devoured. I have elevated myself on the food chain.

Okay, so enough with the analogy. Down to the real stuff now. Life has been and always will be what you make it. The people you surround yourself with is purely by choice. The old adage "misery loves company" is so true to fact. It's when you realize that other people's misery can drag you down and suck the life force from you that you decide to remove them and surround yourself with positive, supportive, and REAL people. I'm in that process now, chiseling away the negative influences that have and could drained me. I have also decided to truly trust and let in the people that genuinely care about "ME" just the way I am.

I am embracing my dreams and voicing my gratitude for the many friends that have helped to shape the beautiful place I'm in. It feels good to finally learn that it's okay to think about myself and what makes me happy and not feel like I'm being selfish for putting myself first. There is a lesson in everything that shapes a life and what one does with that lesson pretty much determines that life.

Soooooo...on that note, thanks to all of you who are helping me reach my dreams and making me feel loved.

The new project begins

2008-05-05T01:06:00.005-04:00

With the beginning of a new week and in light of the amazing weekend I've had, the new project begins. The name of the book in progress is, "The Perfection of Imperfection." It is a compilation of short stories (fiction) that ties together in the end. I started this project about two years ago and never really followed through with it. A couple of weeks ago, while in NYC, I read two of the stories I had written and got a great reception. The people I read it to had only heard my poetry and spoken word in the past, so I think they were a bit surprised when I stepped outside of that genre.

I'm really excited about this project and am looking forward to nightly expeditions into the worlds of my characters. I always get a rush when I "become" my character and write from his or her perspective. Though I've not really given myself a deadline at this point, I do intend to work on it nightly so I can get it published soon.

I'll likely put a paragraph or two for each story in my blog so as to tantalize future readers of the finished product.

On a side note: My novel "Silent Retribution" is currently in the editing process and once a cover photo is ready, it will be published and available on LuLu alongside my other book, "Manifesto of a Menopausal Woman."

Stay tuned for updates by subscribing to this blog

Another late night/early morning

2008-05-04T04:00:00.002-04:00

So here I sit again, contemplating the way this weekend has gone. I've spent two days just thinking and trying to come to terms with so many things. In the past when I went through this, it was always traumatic, earth shattering, and depressing. Not so this time. My thought processes have changed, along with my views about a lot of things. I feel a sense of relief, joy, excitement, and profound peace.

I've come to terms with why I'm where I am right now, and why I'm not moving forward. There is no one and nothing to blame. Hell, blame doesn't really play a part in it anyway. I've fallen into a comfort zone, the usual thought process of doing what it is I'm supposed to do as a mother, friend, and employee. I am so many things to so many people but nowhere near who I want or need to be for me. I have spent a lifetime taking care of others and making sure things are right, that along the way I forgot what it means to do for me.

I'm actually at a place in life where I don't have issues, problems, or drama to deal with. It has left me blank, because that is what my life has always been. I am learning to embrace a new time in my life where I can really follow my dream. What a sense of enlightenment that has created in me. I know there are people who believe in me and that's always a wonderful thing, but it doesn't do any good if I don't believe in myself.

I have decided to step away from poetry and spoken word for a while and pursue other avenues of writing that I have let fall by the wayside. Most people that have read my work have only seen one side of me. Trust me, there is so much more. I have a bottomless well of ideas that need to be pulled to the surface and I'm excited at the prospect of what is to come. There is no end in sight to what will flow forth from me over the next several months.

I am truly thrilled for the first time in four months of writer's block hell. I'm back...

Understanding

2008-05-03T06:29:00.002-04:00

I awoke at 5:04 this morning after having fallen asleep on the couch. I had every intention of getting some writing done last night, but honestly, I was exhausted. This past week at work was rough. The TV was on; the lamp next to the couch was shining in my eyes, and the rhythmic sound of the AC was humming in my ears. I arose, turned everything off and headed for my room. The condo was silent, almost eerily so. I decided to check in on my son who was sleeping soundly along with his legless lizzard, Afeni.

I went into my room, splashed some water on my face and took out my contacs which felt like sand in my eyes. The usual hustle and bustle noise from outside was pleasanlly absent and I felt a sense of peace. I suddenly felt such a sense of gratitude. I haven't felt that in a while. Things have been tough for me these past few months and I wasn't able to put my finger on exactly what was wrong. I knew I was uncomfortable and discontent in my own skin. I haven't been able to find joy in much these days. It's amazing how 5:00 a.m. can affect the mind. This is not my usual time to function in the world. Honestly, I am not a morning person.

This morning is different. As i sit her in the unuual silence, pondering my life, I am overwhelmed by just how good it is. I've lost sight of that lately. Granted, I may not be at a place in life I'd have liked to achieve by now, but I'm heading there. I have two beautiful children, a published book, an amazing place to live, and my gift to write with passion. I've also come to terms with the realization that no matter where I am, I still am. No matter what my physical location is, I have to strive for my dream and make it happen. It's at my fingertips and yet eludes me, because I am too wrapped up in not being there. I know, it probably doesn't make sense, but it hits home with me.

I have not been networking, writing, promoting my book, or really applying myself to making the change I need. It's not a blame game, it's just the dawning of realizing that I have to make the change in my thought process and forge ahead with the passion I only lay upon the page. I have already accomplished a great milestone in publishing my first book. I know there is so much creativity flowing through me and the time to break the damn of my own stagnation and procrastination has come. Funny how that came about at the early hours of the morning. Iknow I have all of the tools to forge ahead and create, create, create. Now the time has come to set aside the self imposed curse of standing still and wishing, and blasting out into the world with all of me. Saturday, May 3, 2008 -- Liberation Day.

Revelations

2008-04-30T21:25:00.000-04:00

Here it is the end of the month again, and it's been two weeks since I've written. I had the intention of posting a blog daily just to do some kind of productive writing, however, that didnt' happen. I got wrapped up in the "I can't seem to write a damn thing" mode again. I can honestly admit, I've never had writer's block to this degree. I just don't know what's going on these days. I spent five days in NYC (Manhattan) and was sure it would spark me and get the creative juices flowing again.

It was an amazing trip, filled with great experiences, lots of pictures, and fond memories. I did a lot of walking all over the city (my feet were throbbing), but it was amazing nonetheless. My friend Broadie and I got there on Friday (18th) morning and left on Tuesday (22nd) evening. While there we met up with a few people we had originally met at Writer's Cafe. Initially the main reason for the trip was for writers to gather and share their work. That part of the trip was disappointing but it was great to see some familiar faces again after so long. I decided to revel in the knowledge that I could explore the city and see the things I missed the first time aroun in January of 2007. That part of the trip was more than I expected. I felt the energy of the city and marveled at the different types of people I was surrounded by. That experience made the trip worth it. I took tons of pictues and in looking at them could write post after post about what I saw and how it affected me. But...

I came home, went to work the next day and realized a major change had occured n me during those five days. Being back in PH and back at work was depressing. As for writing anything, that didn't happen. I was right back in the funk that had surrounded me before I left.

I'm trying to work my way through this whole thing, but I'm not sure what this whole thing actually is. I'm not depressed or in a funk, I just feel like I'm sitting in the middle of a void and can't get the energy to stand up and fight my way out of it. It's holding me pretty tight. I do know that I need a change, a big change. I do know that the words are flowing through me and screaming to get out. I do know that I'm in the upswing of life because of the freedom I now have. I do know that none of these "facts" are strong enough to propel me forward. I don't know what to do. I'm sure when the time is right, everything will fall into place.

I do know I have to keep the faith.

Tuesday

2008-04-15T22:45:00.003-04:00

I woke up at 7:24 this morning, six minutes before my alarm goes off. It was another night of insomnia, which seems to have gotten worse as I've gotten older. I sleep for about three hours at a time, wake up for half an hour then go back to sleep. I've tried to create a schedule so that I can go to sleep, wake up, go back to sleep and wake up just twice a night. I suppose six hours of sleep is enough. It's not so much the interruption in my sleep that bothers me, it's more what I do in that half hour. I have a night stand with an enclosed cubby, my treasure trove of snacks, that I dig into while in that 30 minute waking time. I'll snack on something, have a cigarette, turn on my TV and find the most bizarre programming that television has to offer. What I really want to do is get up and write, however, I know that once I do that, going back to sleep is not an option. I get so wrapped up in what I'm working on that before I know it, 7:30 a.m. rolls around and it's time to prepare for work.

Yes, I still punch a clock. I have a half hour drive to work, then it's nine hours of the grind, a half hour back home, walk the dog, feed the cats, do a few chores...you get the idea. I'm exhausted, physically and mentally. All during that nine hour grind, I'm thinking about sitting at home emptying my brain of all the things I want to pour out onto the screen. That depresses me, because I have to work, I'm part of the machine in that respect.

This morning, I saw two turkey vultures on the side of the road. Ugly damn creatures. They were feasting on road kill, someone's cat probably, that they'd carried from the middle of the street onto the lush green grass. What struck me most about that scene was that they were devouring the carrion in the front yard of an at least 1.5 million dollar house. How's that for irony. Okay, so there might not be a lot of meaning in that for my readers, but it sure struck a cord in me. I actually saw myself as that carrion with the corporate machine stabbing it's beak into my rotting flesh, greedily devouring my dreams.

I wanted to go back home and write. It really is my salvation.

It has begun...

2008-04-14T21:30:00.002-04:00

So I have decided to start this new blog journey today, a Monday, how appropriate. I am heading to New York City this Friday (4/18/08) for a witer's gathering. I've been swaying back and forth between going and not going for about two months. I was initially supposed to go to Chicago and perform at a University, then push to sell my book. That fell through and I was just going to hang here and do some local stuff. Needless to say, I started thinking about New York again.

I realized that I needed a break, a new environment, and something to inspire me and get me through my writer's block. What better place than NYC? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to be out of Gainesville and back to Palm Harbor, but there have been so many changes that have taken place since last June. My plans shifted from day to day, and each day presented a new opportunity and direction my life could take now that my children are grown. Due to circumstances, i'll be staying put in PH for another year to make sure my son is on his feet. I'm cool with that, because it's what is meant to be. I have learned not to fight the path I'm placed upon anymore, it always leads me in the wrong direction when I don't go with the flow.

I've experienced some highs and lows over the past ten months, but those moments created more fodder for my mental cache of things to write about. The main thing is that I'm happy. I will admit it's a first to say that and mean it. Life is presenting me with some pretty amazing things.

I'm on a new journey now, and the turning point is my upcoming trip. I plan to spend a lot of time in the city, taking pictures and writing down the things I see that inspire and move me. I will write a blog every day starting with this one, until my new project is completed. In the meantime, i'll push my book, Manifesto of a Menopausal Woman, to get some extra cash flow going. I've set a short term goal for myself which I plan to achieve by the end of August.

My biggest downfall is procrastination, so I'll have to battle that demon with all of me. I'm so eager to get this project underway that I feel I will win the battle of the block and not making the time to write.

I hope you take this journey with me and see what drives this writer to write.

10,000 B.C.

2008-03-09T00:49:00.002-05:00

I saw this movie last night and I have to admit, it's one of the best I've seen in a long time. I would have to put this one in my top "5" which says a lot. I generally pore over a movie, sometimes for several years and multiple viewings before I am impacted to a point of saying a movie is a favorite. The special effects were fabulous and I practically jumped out of my seat several times. It's action from beginning to end leaving no room for boredom.

I highly recommend this film to all ages. Loved it and give it five stars!

I'm not broken...

2008-02-26T13:10:00.002-05:00

I'm not really sure what the hell I want to write about. I'm feeling a bit in a funk these past few days and I'm not sure why. I do know, I'm suffering from writer's block for the first time in a long time. I spoke to my friend, Delia, about this last night and we both came to a rather startling conclusion. It seems that most of the people that enter my life feel the need to fix me. That's quite an amazing thought, since I've spent the past 17 years taking care of myself and my kids without anyone giving a damn whether I lived or died, or even existed for that matter. So, now I'm in this state of being surrounded by people that care about me, but really don't get who I am with the exception of a few.

There is a depth to the fragmentation that makes me who I am, and it lies hidden in places I won't let others see. It's my own personal universe and sharing it with anyone would be unfathomable. It is the deepest, darkest, and truest part of what I represent in this existence. I've let bits and pieces of myself go, here and there, shared parts of myself, now and then, but honestly, if I really let it go, people would freak. I am not who people see me as, I'm not that poor soul that has lived a hard life and needs to be told to put it away and walk into the light, the world of love and laughter, sunflowers and rainbows. I am so much more. I thrive in the darker places that nature provides for those like me. I love the rain, thunder, lightning, the night, exploring the twisted wreckage of twisted minds. It intrigues me.

Every time I try to deviate away from that inner core that writes about the not so pleasant things in life, living, and dying, the blankness enters my mind, my soul, my body, and my spirit. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about love, compassion, helping society, and all the things that should be in the forefront for humanity. The reality is, that's not reality. We live in times where things happen that cause people to shake their heads and wonder what the hell is going on in the world today.

I've tried to deny that part of myself through time and each time I do, when I return, I go deeper and deeper into a world that intrigues me to the depths and stimulates my mind with questions, ideas, and thoughts.

I've had so many muses in my lifetime that have inspired different parts of my creative journey. It's a beautiful thing in hindsight and refelction and wonderful pieces have come from those interactions. Truth be told, the muses come to me in so many ways, when I least expect them and most need them. I'm museless right now, really for the first time in what seems like forever. I am a blank slate, an empty vessel, virgin snow in a vast open place untouched by human interaction. It's where I need to be right now. It's what I need to feel right now. Vast, empty, alone, and ready for an inundation of emotions, memories, and thoughts that will clear the way for me to create again. This has been a cyclical process, yet, this time there is a different air to it all. I'll not even try to explain it, you can read it when the damn breaks...

Thoughts that float around in my almost 50 mind...

2008-02-12T12:21:00.000-05:00

So, here it is just 2 days before my 50th birthday! I could say I'm freaking out about being 50, however, that is not the case. I feel like I'm coming into the best part of my life. There is so much behind me, so many experiences that have forged who I am today. This venture into the second part of my life is an adventure. Many good things will come my way and I will embrace them all. I see and feel the changes already. The profundity of the events that have taken place over the past year still blow my mind. I've met some amazing people, published a book, marveled at my son turning 18, and most of all I've grown so much in my writing.

I truly feel that my children being grown now, not being tied to anyone, and having a job that affords me the ability to leave it at work and go home to focus on my writing are all a great blessing.

There are so many options open to me right now, and honestly, my head is swimming. I could do a two month eurorail trip in Europe, hit the open road in the US, get a small place by the beach here in Clearwater (great retreat to write for a year), or just move to any place I want, the options are endless! I am at a point where I'm not even trying to make a decision on what to do, I'm just allowing. Whatever my path is supposed to be will reveal itself to me and I will gladly venture there and revel in the journey.

As I mentioned before, I've met some amazing people who are deeply embedded in my heart and have helped to open my spirit so it can fly in the realms of love. That's a great gift in itself.

I have some really great ideas for book projects. My novel is the next project I plan to publish, which will be quickly followed by a book of poetry titled "Spiritual Myopia." Much like the Manifesto this book of poetry describes a journey of sorts and is dedicated to the muses in my life.

I've recently been photographing sunsets here in Florida and am very inspired by them. After speaking to my friend David who was telling me about his latest project, I sat down to write this blog. While throwing my thoughts out, the lights went on again, "THANKS, DAVID" and I've decided on an amazing project that I would never have considered in the past. Gotta love the muses.

So, I'll probably be writing in my blog more often now that I have all these things going on.

Peace...

The month is almost at an end...

2008-01-28T16:12:00.000-05:00

So, here I am again, at work, and wishing I was at home writing. The month of January is almost over and I can't believe in just over two weeks I'll be 50. That's actually a magic number of sorts. I feel really good about it. The first 50 years of my life have been an amazing journey to say the least, and though there have been some very hard times and lots of heartache, the reality is that the best is yet to come.

My responsibilities have been met, I've raised my kids, taken care of my loved ones, and given what everyone has expected of me. Now I'm in the stage where I can give to myself. I have learned to love myself, to believe in myself, and to free myself from the bondage that has been imposed on me by people, places and events. Freedom is a beautiful thing. The question is, what does that freedom entail? What to do? What to do?

There are so many options available to me now. Ironically, I find myself wondering why certain things are coming about in my life right now. I have kept myself distanced from most people in the past, but now find myself connected to a handful that seem to play an integral part in my evolution. I have a support system for the first time in my life. It feels good, but I can't imagine distance keeping me from being in their presence whenever the need arises.

I write from a depth that scares me sometimes. Most of what I pen right now, never makes it out onto my writing sites, my performances, or to those that read my work. It is intense, extreme, and very powerful. The changes I'm going through, the new way of looking at things, the emotions, the dreams, the nightmares, all of it is spilling out in waves that crash against the barriers that have been erected through time and now sift away like sand on a weather beaten shore.

I decided to create a new word, epiphanous, yeah I know it's not a Webster word, but it applies to what is going on in my life. Each new thought raises more thoughts, more emotions, more ideas, and damn that kicks ass. I have a muse that fuels me like none before, I have friends that love me like none before, and I have a newfound knowledge that drives me deeper and deeper into myself. What an amazing place that is. I know at some point, these new pieces of work will make it into a book with material that no one has previewed, and it will be amazing to the people that know my work, for it is a smooth glide into the persona that is really me. It will be surprising to say the least.

A new year begins...

2008-01-06T01:44:00.000-05:00

I've had to sit back and digest this past week. There's been a lot going on in my head, which isn't unusual. It just seems like I've been going through this very intense and extreme mental change. I've pretty much been cave dwelling and that always creates some kind of huge transition when I emerge. I think I might have another week or so in this phase, but hey, that's what this writer's mind goes through all the time.

One of the really big factors in all of this is my perception of motherhood at this point in my life. I've been spending the past twenty-three years taking care of my children. It's was just the three of us for seventeen of those years. My entire existence revolved around taking care of them, protecting them, providing for them, and being there for them. They are both grown now and don't need those things from me anymore.

I am at a point in life where I can focus on me, what I want to do, how I want to live. It's so alien to me. I sort of have the sensation of being in a tunnel with just one match. It's like I have one shot to do what's right for me. Problem is, there are so many options and I have no clue which way to go. For the first time I actually feel like I want to stand still. That's really an oxymoron to me. There seems to be a sense of tranquility in standing still, yet all of the things I want to accomplish have me moving forward at lightning speed.

I really need to spend some time with my physical guide. He always helps me put things into perspective and everything makes sense. It's interesting to me how the Universe's plan has put a guide into my life that is so far away. There is always a need to reach across time and space to connect with him, but boy does that stretch the boundaries of my thought processes. Every journey into the depths of my mind has me coming back with something new and previously undiscovered. I suppose that is the purpose behind it. Despite all of that, being in his physical presence grounds me and puts me back in touch with myself. I do hope to see him soon.

I've also met some verys special people here in PH. They too are in touch with the Universe and the concept of Universal love and peace. They too are humanitarians and a genuine souls. That's rare and I seem to be surrounding myself with people like them. The positive influences in my life are so profound that at times it seems unreal that I have these types of people arround me, nurturing me with love and caring. I feel truly blessed, and that is the thought I'm taking into the new year with me. The rest will just come as it may, because I am allowing to the fullest now.

A wide range of emotions

2007-12-28T09:52:00.000-05:00

So I'm sitting here at work not wanting to be here. I am feeling such a wide range of emotions right now...must be that time of year. Truthfully, I'm thinking about how I want the new year to evolve for me and what I have to do to make that happen. I am definately in the planning stages for 2008. I'm leaving a lot of things behind in 2007 and it's truly about time I do that. I've said some goodbyes, met some new and amazing people, fallen in love, prepared myself for some farewells, and re-established some old friendships.

The highlight of my year was most definately the publishing of my book, Manifesto of a Menopausal Woman. It's been slow going, but I am attributing that to the time of year. As the new year comes in with a bang, my primary focus will be on marketing my book and getting it out to the public. I'm in the process of laying out the new projects I'm planning and will likely be working on several at the same time. I know if I try to focus on just one project, the boredom will surely set in.

I did receive some very exciting news last night that has me flitting about today. I've often mentioned a man that has created such a profound change in my life that I still have a hard time grasping it. I haven't seen him since April of this year and it seems he might be able to arrange a visit in January. I'm on the edge of my seat. I really want to spend some time with him and catch up on the past 8 months. I remember how energized and reviatilezed I felt after our meeting in April. It was a rebirth of sorts. Now I'm at the point where I crave his presence to help me digest the changes that have taken place and figure out what to do and where to go next.

Another issue that has been niggling at me is the desire to move or travel. I love it here in PH and coming back after the fiasco of Gainesville has been one of the best decisions I've made. However, I really feel the need to be somewhere else to further feed my spirit. I'm not sure about the traveling right now, but I do need a change, a new place, with new people and new experiences. Now that my children are grown and I have the freedom to explore being on my own, I revel in the idea that the time is drawing near.

Time will tell...

The Last Days...(4/28/07-4/30/07)

2007-05-05T01:29:00.000-04:00

Those last three days were amazing. We partied, we wrote, I got a beautiful tattoo of a lotus flower on my right upper arm, and then it was time to say goodbye. There were four of us left in the house on Sunday night and it was eerie. I could feel the ghosts of so many amazing people. I walked around the house and rewound the fun, laughter, tears, and every emotion I could muster. Part of me was so glad to have experienced it and part of me was so sad that it was over. There was a lot of love flowing through that house and I reveled in it every day. What an amazing gift.

I got home late Monday night and was totally exhausted. There was a sense of frustration that I had to return to my every day grind, but I also held close the excitement that a new journey awaited me.

I'm finally going home, back to Clearwater, back to the place I've been happiest in. It's been three years coming and though circumstances have not changed that make it a bit of a rough trek ahead, I don't mind. It will all work itself out and that makes me happy.

There are many things that have come to the surface that I have to work through, but I can deal with all of it, because I'm coming into my own now. The tides are turning at last.

Day three to day six...4/22/07 - 4/27/07

2007-04-28T01:54:00.000-04:00

It would take me days to relay everything that has been going on, so let me just say that it's been filled with laughter, tears, creative energy, new acquaintances, and old friends. We've experienced things we will talk about for a long time to come.

In all of this sensory overload, I have found my own serene and solitary place to dwell amidst the chaos. My mind is pumping like erratic heartbeats absorbing the shock of feeling like I just jumped into a mountain pool, ice layer protecting its frigid liquidity. Words are battling, bumping, grinding into each other fighting for the opportunity to spew "a cappella" first.

I have found my voice, my muse is now flourishing inside of me, fueled by the external stimulation of great minds. I am allowing all of it to swirl to the surface and ultimately escape through every pore, open and ready to grease the slide. I'm ready for the ride. And still, I think of him...

Day two continued...(4/21/07)

2007-04-26T05:58:00.000-04:00

We began our trek out of the city, B, K, I, T, G, P, and I were tightly packed in the mini van and ready to enjoy some beautiful scenery across the way. It's about a nine hour drive from Chicago to Lake of the Ozarks. We made a few stops along the way and stopped in Peoria to meet a fellow writer, T. There I was meeting yet another talented artist in the ever growing network of connections gathering from Witer's Cafe. I had to smile for a moment and let out a low chuckle when I saw how people were looking at us. Actually, we did look like a motley crew of strangers breezing into the local gas station to fill up, use the restrooms and buy a few libations! We hung out with T for about an hour before we headed out for the rest of our long journey to "the house."

It wasn't long before we were like kids heading to Wally World and wondering, "are we there yet." After our fourth trip around the lake, and it is a rather large lake, we finally arrived at the house. The nine hour journey had graciously extened itself to fourteen and a half hours.

I couldn't believe what stood before me. The house was amazing. There was plenty of room to stash the influx of writers heading this way. Our first evening was filled with requanting ourselves with old friends. meeting new ones, and strengthening bonds with certain people the connection went deeper with. I loved being surrounded by such an amazing aura.

After much hugging and just an all out glad to be together again party, I headed out to the dock. There was a deep and intense silence and serenity surrounding me. Nightingales sang harmonious tunes and fesh leapt from the water. The moon shone bright light over the water and it all brought tears to my eyes. I never felt so surrounded by loved ones, yet so alone and solitary at the same time. There was a drifting irony to all of it. Here it was Saturday night, or should I say Sundy morning and my thoughts drifted to him...

Day two...(4/21/07)

2007-04-25T23:08:00.000-04:00

I walked around the studio marveling at the eclectic artwork all over the walls. The guys that ran the studio were two of the most interesting characters I've met in a long time. I was immediately at ease and very comfortable with the two Chicagoans! The idea of being in the city was a head rush in itself, but there I was in a recording studio with an amazing mix of people.

After wolfing down the Chicago style hotdogs, enjoying some drinks and getting into a relaxed mode, we listened to some of their music, which was fabulous. "Z" set us up for recording time and the excitement grew. There were three of us that recorded and we were mezmerized as we listened to our playbacks and realizing what it meant to hear ourselves in a professional environment. I can't speak for the others, but for me it was a rush and an experience that I definately want to repeat. The whole experience gave me such a sense of understanding where I want to go with my writing. I realized what another writer's retreat related experience this was that would create change in my life yet again.

We stayed at the studio until about 5:00 a.m. before I punked out and said I just had to sleep. I was exhausted, but hung in there until the absolute moment where I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I spent about 20 minutes looking out of a window at an empty lot and the highway just beyond it. I saw more things out of that window in those 20 minutes than I've seen in years out of my own windows. It was a beautiful thing.

We headed back to the hotel and I crashed on the floor by the hotel room door, a smile on my face and a sense of fullness in my heart. I was looking forward to the road trip to Missouri and as I closed my eyes, I felt a sense of peace and fulfillment in the knowledge that my life was going through yet another metamorphisis. I love them all.

Still day one...(4/20/07)

2007-04-24T16:05:00.000-04:00

So, I got to Chicago safely and the flight wasn't too bad. O'Hare is a hurge airport, but I made my way to the shuttle service and paid for my ride to the City (downtown). My arrival was awaited by my fellow travellers at the Intercontinental Hotel and I was definately eager,to get there. After being dropped of at the hotel, the elevator couldn't move fast enough to get me to the 24th floor. As the door was opened and I entered the room, I saw familiar faces along with a couple of new ones. The exhiliration of spending time with old and new friends sent rushes through me.

The plan was to stop for something to eat and then head to the studio to do some recording. I was nervous about that since I read like I have a stick up my butt. Gotta learn to relax. So, eventually with everyone excited about the evening, we headed out for some real Chicago style food. Hot dogs with the fixins'. I'd heard you couldn't get them anywhere else like you could in Chicago. It was really cold, coming from Florida I'm sure my teeth were chattering a bit more than others! We stopped at a roadside and ordered our dogs loaded, then headed to the studio. A guy we'd met, I'll call him Z, was definately an interesting character. He was a free spirit if I've ever seen one. Livin' life like life should be lived, free and doing what he loved to do.

It was pretty late by the time we got to the studio and the people I met there were by far and inspiration to continue crawling out of the box I've been living in for so long. They were real people, with real lives, and more in touch with reality than the people I've had to associate with on a regular basis for so long. It was refreshing to say the least. We commenced wolfing down our hotdogs, which were amazing, and just chatted, getting to know each other. The stress and strain of daily ho-hum, humdrum existence got checked at the door, and I got to be me. How refreshing, liberating, and totally eye opening.

It was well after midnight before we got started with the recording and that was an amazing experience, I'll share in the next posting.

Day one...

2007-04-20T16:16:00.000-04:00

The journey has begun. I'm sitting at the Jacksonville Airport just about ready to board my flight to Chicago. The Burger King fish sandwich I just ate is sitting in my stomach like a rock, but the hunger is quenched. I'm so excited. I'm making my last call to work, just to touch base and make sure everything is cool, and then I'm cutting the ties and going off into writer's land. Wow, awesome, no work for ten days.

I'll be posting daily blogs of events that occur about good, good times! I'll post more after I get to Chicago.

A few updates...

2007-04-19T23:24:00.000-04:00

Much has transpired since my last entry. On April 12, 13, and into the morning of April 14 I was in Georgia. My journey there served many purposes and had some interesting outcomes. There were several reasons that I wanted to take the trip. Firt and foremost, it was to meet the man behind the words. It was well worth the journey to meet him. He exuded such a radiant light and I immediately felt connected to him. You will see great things come from him and it fills my heart to know he will make a difference.

Secondly, I needed to get back in touch with nature. I've been in the box, in the city for so long, I stopped looking at what was around me. I'm surrounded by nature where I live, but over time it blended into the rest of the scenery around me and I closed my eyes. Though I didn't get to venture into the heart of the Okefenokee Swamp, I felt it's beauty and it's amazing presence. I wanted very much to drift down the river and marvel at what natures provides that so many try to destroy. Circumstances did not bring that about, however the exposure I did get gave me such a sense of peace. It was truely beautiful.

Third, I needed to get away from the familiar surroundings and responsibilities like work, home, being mom, and being discontent. I had a lot of time to think and assess what my life looked like to me. I didn't like what I saw. Changes are taking place as I write these words.

All in all my trip to Georgia was much needed, much appreciated, and very inspiring in many ways.

Tommorow I will be on my way to Missouri with an initial stop in Chicago. I'll be in Missouri for nine days for a writer's convention, though I see it more as a retreat. I've met these other writers in a website called Writers Cafe. It has had a fundamental impact on my life. It's where I met the amazing man I wrote about in the beginning of this blog, it's where I've met some incredible new friends that have become like family, and it's where I learned to spread my wings with my writing. We had the initial gathering in Encino, California in December of 2006, the second in NYC, and now this one in Missouri.

My belief from this artist's heart is that this trip will bring everythng together as it should be. My wings are spread wide and I'm beginning to fly.

An adventure...

2007-04-11T21:59:00.000-04:00

I just wanted to jot a quick entry since I'll be out of touch for the next four days. I'm off to what will likely be an amazing adventure. I will be sure and recount the highlights of this trip. I'll be in Georgia on Thursday and Friday and in Palm Harbor on Saturday and Sunday. Whew, a lot of driving, but it's well worth it.

There will be lots of pictures I'm sure and if I can figure out how to post them on the blog, I will be sure and share some of them.

It's been a very stressful week and I'm looking forward to the down time. The best part is that I finally get to meet one of the most amazing people to ever enter my life. That will truely be the highlight of this expedition. The second treat is the idea that I will be surrounded by nature, beauty, and wonder while meandering through the Okefenokee Swamp. Now that's what I call a good time!

I will most likely post on Sunday night to fill you in on the happenings over the next four days.

Time to think while out of touch...

2007-04-08T22:11:00.000-04:00

I've had time to digest some things while on hiatus from my male guide. We've spoken regularly for a few months now, and I came to look forward to his emails and occassional phone calls. It was something positive and exciting that made me smile each day. This weekend we've been out of touch and it has caused a pause, time to decipher some things that have been drifting through my mind. I will admit, I miss talking to him, but I have been afforded the time I needed to process this influx of change that has taken such a strong hold on me and my life.

First, let me start by saying, he's an amazing man and overall person. He has played the greatest part in helping me to see my potential in so many different aspects of who I am as a whole. I've learned so many profound and exciting things that will be revealed over time in these blogs. I quiver at the thought of finally meeting him in person, seeing his smile, hearing his words, and spending time revealing myself to him in more ways than I already have. I have the deepest respect and admiration for him. He is one of the few people I have met that lives his dream, makes a difference, and genuinely cares about people. He's what I would term a "humanitarian."

The human spirit in most people is fleeting at best, which is a sad thing, but he has a spirit that shines through the universe and lands at my doorstep. Each time he appears, another door opens and another revelation takes hold. There is no greater gift than the sharing of ideas, dreams, emotions, and the merging of two minds that think so much alike. I'm thankful each day...each day.

Exciting Times!

2007-04-08T00:13:00.000-04:00

I'm processing thoughts at lightening speed this evening. I started writing a spoken word piece, as I was inspired by watching Def Poetry jam performances on YouTube, and found myself staring at an empty screen. I say empty in the sense that I wrote three stanzas, and as far as I was concerned, the page was still blank. I've been fighting the obvious message that there has to be a departure from the familiar, be it for a short time, or permanently, there are more important outlets for my work. The problem is, I don't know what they are, but I'm "allowing" so it will come to me. I'm doing something I've had a hard time doing in the past, and that is, letting go of the need to control what direction my life takes and just going where it takes me.

Funny how this works...I understand there needs to be a change, and I feel that what my next level of writing should be is hovering just on the periphery where I can't grab it yet. So, here I am, ready to take the plunge and have no idea what to plunge into. With each day that passes it gets a little closer to the forefront and should surface very soon.

There are three very powerful influneces going on, one of them being me, that are opening doors in my mind sure to create profound changes. This is an exciting time.

Thoughts...

2007-04-07T01:21:00.000-04:00

I'm in an Enigma and jasmine candle sort of mood right now. I am reeling and my mind is going an infinite number of miles per hour. It's like someone just turned on stadium lights in my room, and I am visually blind, which has caused all of my other senses to kick into overdrive. The word "understanding" never meant more to me than it does right now.

As you know, I've been going through this process of transformation, and I have to say, it's far beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Boy, I thought I was empowered to the hilt when I wrote my last blog. That's nothing compared to how I feel now. I can't believe it's that simple, that logical, and that obvious. Okay, you're thoroughly confused right now. Let me explain.

Again, through the direction of my physical guide, I have been led in a direction and to a necessity I couldn't see on my own. I was told to buy a book titled, "The Secret," and to give it to my son as penance to read for some recent misbehavior. I bought the book today, tossed it on the front seat of my car, and was glad it only cost me $17.50. I dropped some McD's off for my son and headed back out to get my hair cut. Just before I got out of the car, (at the dreaded mall) I realized there would be a long wait since it was a day off for a lot of people. I grabbed the book thinking, "It's got to be better reading than fashion and hair magazines." I battled my way throught the throngs of people - all in a hurry - and made my way to the salon. As I'd suspected, there was going to be a 30 minute wait. I plopped down in the wooden chair and instinctively grabbed a hairstyle book to see what magic I wanted the stylist to create today. I got bored with that quickly and resolved myself to a trim. The usual drama was going on around me, crying babies, toddlers smashing cookies on the floor, people with blank faces, and all the vibes that go with it. I opened the book and began to read the introduction. I was about two pages into it when it was time to hit the chair. I didn't want to close the book and almost decided to skip the haircut and find a nice quiet place to read. Well, as fate would have it, I looked in the mirror and realized I had wings that just had to be chopped. The chair won at that moment.

After rushing through the rest of my hectice day, I sat at my computer and just fiddled around. I knew I had to pick my daugther up at work , so I didn't want to get too involved with anything. After picking her up, stopping at the gas station for goodies and my loathed pack of cigarettes, we headed home, just chatting idly about nothing really. I wanted to get home so I could read some more. I'd been very intrigued with the DaVince code for a while and couldn't read enough about it, but that is nothing compared to this. It was like some kind of magnetic draw. My next destination was a sea salt and lavender bath.

I put on some mellow music, drew my bath, and enjoyed the wonderful lavendar aroma permeating the air. The jasmine scented candle I had burning meshed well with the floral scent. I slid into the tub, the hot water drawing me in. It was blissful. I opened the book and began to read. The words shot off the pages like little needles and covered me with a physical sensation I will never be able to describe. Each word seeped into my brain like water into beach sand, and opened my mind beyond places I thought it could stretch. The last lotus petal opened up and revealed the heart of the blossom.

My existance will change now. Everything will be as I want it to be, because that is what my thoughts will attract. My thoughts are and have been my life. Now my life is and will be my thoughts.

The Influence of music...

2007-04-05T23:05:00.000-04:00

Music has always had a tremendous impact on me. It defines my moods, thoughts, and ideas. I'm not particularly picky about what type of music I listen to, though I have my preferences. I've never really been a country music fan and opera is something I can only take in small doses. I choose what I listen to primarily based on my thoughts. When I first get home from work and I'm all wound up, interestingly enough, I like to play something upbeat, as a matter of fact, it's the only time I listen to female artists like Michelle Branch, Dido, Alicia Keys, and others like them. I have to laugh because the music, the lyrics, give me pause to sing along and feel upbeat, only realizing afterward that most of the songs have to do with some painful aspect of a relationship. There has to be some humor in that!

Once I've relaxed and I sit down to check out my writing site, I listen to, yep silence. I download the day, all the crap that comes with it, and prepare myself for me time. My favorite time. I make it a point to lay down and relax my body, along with my mind, for at least ten minutes each evening. Creating a comfortable enviornment is not only important, it also adds to my ability to write. I have an antique, wrought-iron, gothic-looking, pub lamp (well, I don't know how antique it really is) that has a red bulb in it. It casts just enough light to smooth out the darkness, but puts a peaceful hue into the room. My favorite incense is Goloka NAG CHAMPA Agarbathi, very heady scent, but drifts around the room nicely. I turn on my small fountain (water is very important to me, must have been a fish in another life) and relax into the sensation of sound that reminds me of rain. Finally, I titillate my aural craving for music that will put me into the zone. Oh, I forgot to mention, an occasional glass of wine adds a nice touch.

Now is when I like to listen to Electronica/Trip-Hop, like Massive Attack (my favorite group and not one I would have thought I'd listen to with a name like that. It is deceptive), or Alternative music like, Mercury Tea Company or Portishead. This type of music puts me in a writing mood, as a matter of fact, I'm listening to it now, so this will probably be a lengthy blog entry. I'll apologize in advance. I fluctuate between writing and talking (via Internet, what a great invention) to the dearest person I know. Now, talking to this friend begins to evoke another thought process...

Yeah, the time comes to play Enigma, Opeth, or A Perfect Circle. This is the time I begin to realize the amazing life I lead. After fulfilling my obligations as mother and provider, I retreat into a place that is peaceful and safe, a place that gives me comfort in my solitude. Being alone is probably the hardest trial we as humans face in our lifetimes. We're not meant to be solitary creatures, every whole is made up of two halves, on equal levels. So, back to the music...This type of music makes my body feel alive. It makes me realize I feel comfortable in my skin, and I have no need to try and turn back time, I'm not so bad at this stage in my life. I feel the joy of just feeling, a new sensation that has developed. I need not go into detail about particulars, but suffice it to say desires arise...

Just before I go to sleep, I put on Amethystium or Bluestone, to accompany me into slumber, and then I dream...

While writing this, I had to smile, because I've lived in the pits of hell, and here I am, reveling in my freedom and strength. I feel empowered enought to say that I can achieve anything I set out to do, and I plan to do much.

Now, if there is head scratching going on, wondering what the hell this blog means, each of these entries is a piece of the puzzle that is me. As each piece falls into place, the big picture of who I am will become a realization. I hope to inspire women out there, who think they are stuck in a hopeless nightmare, that there is absolute peace (despite the daily struggles to make ends meet) in regaining their lives. There is nothing more precious than that.

The darkness is fading...

2007-04-04T20:02:00.000-04:00

The visions are becoming obscure to say the least. I reflect back on a time when moments of standing still in my life would evoke memories of a very painful past. The snipets of emotional peace were few and far between the darkness that enveloped me. Eventually the "why me's" became "when does it stop." I tried to come to terms with the reasons for events in my life, but the answers never really seemed to come to me.

I developed an aversion/fascination with men. The underlying current in my life was that I was destined to gravitate to the "bad" ones, either that or they gravitated toward me. I must have had that "treat me like shit" magnet. The progression of my male influences set me on a path that was bound for destruction. Self-destruction.

The beatings and emotional abuse as a child didn't begin until I was seven. There was no escape, no way out, after all, I was just a child. The feeling of being trapped became a reality that developed over time and placed me into that pattern for years to come. I spent a lot of time alone as a child and teenager. My comfort zone was in my room, listening to music, reading, writing, and dreaming of the day that I would be free. In the meantime, I tried like hell to avert the abuse by putting every ounce of effort I had into being the perfect daughter. I had no idea what perfection was, but I still tried to obtain it. My last beating was at the age of seventeen, I finally stood my ground with no regard as to what the repercussions would be. My father must have sensed a certain danger in my words and actions, because it stopped as quickly as it had begun ten years earlier. The sense of empowerment and control over my life created a change in me that was profound. I would never be a victim again. Little did I know that ten years had already created the need to please an "audience of one." The path was set and I was on it for the long haul.

At nineteen I met the "man of my dreams." The abuse began early on; however, the need to please, to love, to be loved, was paramount and strong enough to make me ignore the reality of where I was headed. At twenty I was married, and at twenty-one I had a child. A daughter. At twenty-four I was divorced and broken in every way because of the emotional abuse. He never laid a hand on me, but at times I'd wished for that, at least bruises heal. The attack on emotions is a difficult demon to battle. The nightmare was over, but the path was even deeper ingrained in me.

At twenty-five I was remarried to a man that had witnessed much of the trauma I had gone through with my first husband. He was a friend, a confidant, and someone that reiterated on a regular basis that he could not understand the reason for the abuse I had endured. It sickened and angered him; he could never fathom treating me that way, because I was an amazing woman. I trusted those words. The next eight years would prove those words to be chains that bound me to an even darker and soul draining existence. At thirty-four I was alone again, this time with two children.

For six years I struggled through days and nights trying to survive in a harsh world while battling the unforgiving self-blame that consumed me even further, then I met "him." Tall, dark,handsome, intelligent, and very kind. On the surface. His brand of abuse was one I had not yet experienced. I was convinced that I loved him more than life, and I spent every day trying to show him that. He was an alcoholic, like my second husband; he just disguised it better by lulling me into that world. Though he wined and dined me, took me places, bought me gifts and was nice to my kids, there was a darker side to him. As time passed, I found myself crying more and more on lonely nights while hugging my pillow and asking "God" to make it better. I needed a reprieve from the bad. We were together for two years, until I walked away from him. I was devastated, crushed, emotionally destroyed and determined to never get involved in a relationship again. I didn't have a problem with the idea that I would spend the rest of my time here alone. It gave me a bizarre sense of peace and tranquility.

Eight years have passed since then, and I am still a single woman, still raising my children, and still fighting the world. Though I have become stronger, more determined, and much more forgiving of my choices, there was a sense of something missing. The solitude of my life has given me a sense of comfort and stability in the reality that I am not being abused and never will be again.

I only realized recently that there has been an overwhelming amount of love buried deep in the recesses of my being. The fear of letting it go was more intense than any fear I have ever felt before. There has always been a very real and very healing sense of being for the love of my children, but in that reality I came to understand something that rocked my world. Through the role of daughter, wife, girlfriend, and lover, I had never really given or recieved love. I never shed a tear during the "it's over phase," and just moved forward in life with the understanding that I could heal quickly, because I had never really opened myself, mind, heart, body, and soul to anyone. I had never received it either. The risk of being hurt beyond repair has been a powerful tool to keep me from taking that step.

That has changed. I have felt a deeper sense of love for who I am as a whole, and I have given a deeper level of love than I thought possible. Not storybook, cliche love, but love for what it is meant to be, the acceptance of myself as a beautiful spirit with much to give and the ability to receive in return. It has all come from "allowing," and I am grateful beyond words.

Breaking the Cycle...

2007-03-31T21:57:00.000-04:00

I felt the need to share this memoir I wrote several years ago. It's appropriate right now, because I have a family situation that made me reflect on it. I have changed the names of my children to grant them privacy.

WHEN I WANT TO HIT THE KIDS:
Breaking the cycle of child abuse

Sitting here at my kitchen table, the odor of bacon, eggs and burnt toast lingering in the air, solidifies the rough night I had. God, I’m tired. Keith, my five-year-old, was sick last night, depriving me of sleep. When I looked in the mirror this morning, horror was the best description available. The bags under my eyes attested to utter fatigue. With hair sticking up like I had electric shock, combined with the jaundiced color of my skin, thoughts of famine relief entered a fuzzy brain.

This total exhaustion continually wears me down and causes reflection on this situation. I just lost my job because of a car accident, the bills are piling up, and I’m alone. The tears have all dried up, there’s just no crying left. Hope, faith and strength have fled through an open window. What now? The children are squabbling.

“You took my marker!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Don’t hit me!”

Then, the dreaded ear-shattering scream. “Mom! Amy hit me. Mommmmy!”

Keith runs into the kitchen, grabs my leg, clinging like an octopus…and whining. That incessant whining. It drives me crazy. I intervene as always and restore peace and order. Back to the kitchen table, maybe to grab just a few minutes of my own peace. Without even making it to the chair to sit down, the children are at it again.

“Mom, Keith is in my room. He’s bugging me.”

“I am not, Mom, she’s lying.”

When does it ever end? The constant fighting and arguing is stressing me out – thinking straight is not an option. That’s it. I’ve had it. I can’t take it anymore. It will be made clear who’s in charge here.

Thinking back on that minute between the kitchen and the bedrooms will forever be emblazoned in my mind. As I raised a shaking hand to my son, I looked down at his little innocent face and froze. He gazed at me, his beautiful blue eyes tinged with fear. It made my stomach turn. How could the thought of striking him even enter my mind? My frustrations are like demons nipping at my brain. The anger at my situation uncoiled serpents, ready to strike with no regard to who my victim was. At that moment, my mind flashed back to my childhood.

I was about eight years old. My father was on military maneuvers, and I was allowed to have two friends over to play. Mary, the trouble maker, sneaked into my parents’ room. When I found her in there, a bolt of anxiety gripped me. I yelled at her to get out and slammed the door behind us, sure the thing was ripped off the hinges.

A few hours later, my mother, screaming like a mad woman, came raging down the hall. “What were you doing in my room?” she demanded.

How she’d figured out anyone was in her room was beyond me. “Mom, I’m sorry. Mary was in there, but I told her to get out.”

My mother’s reply stung me. “You’re lying. I called your dad and told him I can’t handle you when he’s gone. He’s coming home.”

My heart hammered in a tightening chest. Surely, death was imminent. I tried to convince myself there was no way he could abandon his exercise, leaving me a few days to live. Later that evening, as mom ironed and I lay on the couch coloring, the door burst open. There he stood in all his Army gear, covered in mud and filled with rage. It brought to mind the monsters at the Saturday matinees. He stalked toward me with fists clenched so hard the veins protruded. He reached down, grabbed me by the shirt, hoisting me to dangling feet. He shook me till my teeth chattered, as he screamed in my face, his foamy spit spraying like a rabid animal’s. Trying to wriggle free only managed to anger him more. He reached out and grabbed teh iron, raised it over his head and in what seemed like slow motion I saw the glint of silver descending upon me. My mother grabbed the cord and pulled the iron from his hand, the only time she ever intervened in a beatin. When he realized his hand was empty he balled his fist. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his fist coming at me; the ceiling light danced on the red stone of his Army ring. His fist and my eye connected. A split second later, a sticky wetness was flowing down an already swelling cheek. In that moment of confusion, my chance for escape came. Lumbering down the hall to the safety of my room, my bed, was the only thing on my mind. Reaching for my face, shaking fingers traced the swelling. Though my vision was blurred, crimson snakes running down my fingers were clearly visible. My terror-filled scream brought mom and dad running. One look sent mom wailing to her room. Dad scooped me up in the blanket and rushed me to the hospital. Another emergency room visit. Another lie to another doctor.

When I snap back to the present, Keith is frozen like a statue in a red-light, green-light game. Lowering my hand, I turn and leave the room. How could the thought of putting my child through that brutality even enter my mind? The anger does not lie with him. It’s just anger. This moment of reflection forces me to step back and think about the situation. I go out on the stoop, count to ten, recite the National Anthem, whatever it takes to get a grip. Once I get myself on an even keel, the situation will be handled calmly, rationally and with love. I have made a conscious decision to stop the cycle of abuse that has existed in my family. I must keep reminding myself that physical and mental abuse is not the answer to any dilemma. Children should never be the victims of everyday stresses and problems that push us to lose control. The trust my children have in me must never be destroyed.

I am a survivor of such destruction. If the pressure becomes unbearable, I’ll find help before there are regrets and actions that cannot be reversed.

You can do the same...

Misjudging the flow of thoughts...

2007-03-31T01:01:00.000-04:00

I'd convinced myself that I could write these blogs in chornological order regarding the events as they occurred in real time. I realize now that these blogs will be snipets not in order of age, severity, or impact. These will simply come in the order that my mind allows me to purge them. While waiting for one of these "memories" to come to mind, another question arose in my thought process, so I digress.

Why did I allow myselft to be beaten, degraded, and humiliated with no resistance? I suppose the guilt comes into play often with this question. Who can I blame besides myself for enbling another human being to do those things to me? I'd imagine a shrink would have standard textbook answers; talk of childhood trauma and issues with self-esteem. For me, it still comes down to the basic desire to know why after the first strike; I did not turn and walk out of the door. Was it such a desperate need to be loved, that any punishment fit the reward of those rare moments when it felt like love? How is love defined in these types of scenarios?

Here's what I came up with, and this of course is solely in relationship to my personal universe.

Failure. Now that word evokes a strong response from me. This would, by psychiatric standards, fall into the childhood trauma arena. Looking beyond the physical and emotional abuse, I ponder the pshcological abuse. The molding of a young and impressionable mind is the most powerful tool we have, which can be a blessing and/or a curse. Perfection is my least favorite word in any language. It was the primary expectation imprinted into my brain; there was no room for "failure."

My upbringing was quite sterile. My parents did not show physical affection, or impart it on me. As time passed, I actually acquired an aversion to being touched. There was a certain discomfort with the feelings that coursed through me when there was human contact. This was not a major issue when I was younger, however, it did create a serious problem in adulthood. It was my double-edged sword, the desire to be loved, but an aversion to experiencing it through physical contact.

Don't get me wrong I had the desire to make love to my husband, at first, it was the affection he expected outside of the bedroom that I couldn't give. He would hold my hand when we were walking and I would pull away. I can't say this was the catalyst that made him angry enough to hit me, hurt me, and scare the hell out of me, but as victims do, I internalized. I justified each "incident" by convincing myself it was my fault, and I had to try harder to be "perfect."

Again, over time this became my reality. Every beating, every degrading word, plays through my mind like a flickering, black and white movie. As the reels run their course and the pictures jump by, I grasp a moment, a thought, that if love hadn't been so important to me none of those things would have happened. The logical solution to the problem was to castrate love from every part of me, including myself. It worked quite well for a few years, until recent events. I've learned that love is not always associated with pain. I've also learned that love for myself and those I treasure, creates passion, and this passion translates into every part of me, especially my psyche.

One of the largest transitions I've made, is the realization that I crave the human touch in many ways. Commonplace for most, profound for me...

My thoughts were intense yesterday...

2007-03-30T01:18:00.000-04:00

I am remiss in not having posted yesterday; however, much has transpired just in the past 24 hours. In a sense, it's been a personal revelation, a deeper understanding, and a profound sense of fate taking place. I am filled with emotions that have overflowed my capacity to put words to screen right now. The weekend is upon me again, and I plan to formulate those words and put them into a coherent post.

In order to adequately portray my life, there will be moments of insight into what is transpiring in me now. I feel the need to step away from each post that depicts the pain and suffering and balance it with the goodness that flows through every day of my existance at this turning point. There is so much inside of me, so much that I have pushed away and told myself I'm over, but the reality is that I embrace it, all of it, because it is the foundation to my purpose.

The best part is that I've met someone who is willing to take the journey with me, without judgment, without condemnation, and without pity, but with a deep sense of love and understanding. He sees the vision as I do, a means to do something real, positive, and very necessary.

Lives will be changed, survivors will be forged out of the wreckage of devastation, and peace, personal serenity, will come at last. Life doesn't get any better than that.

Seven Days Into Life, Death Tried to Claim Me

2007-03-28T18:13:00.001-04:00

My father was obsessed with having a child. He wanted a son more than anything, someone to carry on his name, his legacy. They were told my mother couldn't have any more children because of what had happened to her during the war...the rape. Dad being who he was, felt that he could prove that wrong. For two years, my mother took her temperature and called him when she was fertile. He would jump in his jeep, rush home to "do the deed" and produce this miracle child. Finally, it happened. Mom was pregnant. My half-sister (I'll call her Helen) was about 11. From what I hear she wasn't too happy about this revelation. I laughed years later when my dad told me that he knew exactly when I was conceived. He's quite pompous as you will discover.

Nine months later, on February 14, I came into this world - blue. The city was gripped by one of the worst snow storms in decades. Power outages and blocked roads created chaos, especially on a military base. My mother and I spent a week in the hospital (as was the case back then), and on the day we were released it was snowing like hell. We were all bundeled in the car and on the treacherous journey home. Just as luck would have it, about a mile from our destination, the car died. My father pushed it all the way to our apartment with my mom steering and me bundled up and lying on the passenger seat.

When our little family arrived, the discovery that there was no power, therefore no heat, set my father into a rage, my mother into tears, and me into the first major struggle of my life. It was like an omen of things to come. Mom ran over to the neighbors apartment, an elderly lady, and asked if she could borrow a blanket or two to help keep me warm. The woman was so touched by my mother's panic that she lent her an old, faded fur coat and told her to wrap me up tightly. Her thought was that if it could keep the animal who once wore it warm in freezing weather, it should do the trick for me. Interesting logic to say the least.

We spent that night huddled together, candlelight casting a warm glow about the room, deceptive comfort at best, and relied on body heat, blankets, and that old fur coat to keep us warm through the raging onslaught of nature. The next morning I awoke with a cough, which quickly developed into pneumonia. We couldn't make it to the hospital until the following day and by then things had worsened. I struggled for five days to survive the onslaught of fever, dehydration, and chest rattling coughs.

I came into the world blue and beat the odds. I fought with every ounce of my tiny body to battle pneumonia and I beat the odds. I've been beating the odds ever since.

The Foundation of Me

2007-03-27T18:19:00.000-04:00

It's funny when you imagine your parents meeting, courting, getting engaged, married, the whole ritual of a man and woman connecting and making the committment to stay together til death do them part. I actually enjoy hearing stories of how my friends parents met. Then, they ask me. In the beginning I hesitated to tell people; however, as time has passed, I feel it has some relevance to how my life turned out.

My father (then 19 years old) was a GI in the Army and stationed in Germany in 1954. One night he went to a Gasthaus (like a restaurant/bar in America) and saw my mother. It was post WWII and most of the GI's were warned that German girls were trying to get married to Americans so they could get out of the country. There was my dad, an African American male reveling in the beauty of my mother's Aryan features, blonde hair, blue eyes, alabaster skin. He immediately fell in love, and tried to woo her. She would not give in, but he continued to frequent the Gasthaus leaving my mother good tips, hershey bars and Marlboro cigarettes. I forgot to mention, my dad was a miliary policeman. Since it was postwar, he carried his weapon (concealed) at all times. So, one night he went into the Gasthaus and sat down for his nightly meal of schnitzel, sauerkraut, dumplings, and a Lowenbrau beer. He noticed a GI harrassing my mother, when suddenly the man pulled out a gun and put it to my mother's head. Apparently this man wanted my mother to sleep with him. Most of the GI's had perceptions that the German women were easy. My father jumped up from his chair and approached the situation. He pulled his gun out and put it behind his back, and approached the other GI, who wasn't really paying attention. He put the gun in the mans back and asked him if she was really worth dying for. After just a few minutes the man relented and gave himself up.

From that time on, my father endeared himself to my mother, her daughter, and my grandmother. My mother had been raped by GI's at the age of 19 and my half-sister was the product of that. Nonetheless, my father took care of all of them and then my mother finally agreed to marry him. The military did not look kindly on this for three reasons. He was black, she was white, and he was in the military. Believe it or not, that was an issue then. It took quite some time to get permission from his superior officers, but again he was relentless. My parents were married an 1955 and one year later my mother became an American citizen.

Two years later, I was born.

The Transition Begins...

2007-03-26T18:23:00.000-04:00

To start at the beginning would not explain the impact of my life adequately enough, so I'll start with a journal entry from a few weeks ago.

I'm sitting in a bath of sea salt with 8 drops of lavendar oil, as per my physical guide''s instructions. Last night was difficult for me. I went through a transition that physically and emotionally rocked me and depleted me. My body and my mind hurt in unison. I am still trying to grasp all of this. For the longest time, I thought it was my imagination, wishful thinking, but I realize now that is not the case. This is all being driven by many forces that have gathered together to take me to a higher level of consciousness. This is the second wave of the overall transition. Each one becomes more intense, more profound. The fear, however, is gone.

I suppose my biggest fear was driven by the idea that something I have searched my entire life for might disappear one day when I awaken. I realize now that is nowhere near the truth. I've been assured of that in more ways than one. I have learned that it is okay to "allow" to "trust." I appealed to the powers that be in answering the question that has driven me to the brink of tears so many times. When I reach the apex, when the crown is completely open and I finally realize my potential, will the one thing that I've searched so long for be taken away from me? I know, it's a selfish want in the bigger picture, but I won't lose sight of the fact that I am human, therefore, I have dreams and desires. I did realize though that it was something I placed in my own mind to prevent me from forging ahead.

I lost sight of the demons I have to realease, solely out of fear of what would happen if I did let them go. They have become such an integral part of who I am. There is a large part of me that is embroiled in my past, so much blame I have shouldered for the chain of events that have caused me pain. The burning question in the forefront of my mind has always been "why me?" I couldn't begin to grasp why these things were happening...relentlessly.

I do understand now, and the release will come in waves. Along with that release will come the ability to affect a change not only in myself, but in others as well. I am beginning to understand my purpose.

Traveling through the past...

2007-03-25T17:44:00.001-04:00

Recounting situations of the past is not a healthy way to deal with the present and future; however in this instance it is important that I share the past in order to bring to light the amazing turn of events that have taken place over the past two months.