Now, Voyager- a Real Trip Nowhere, Now Here...

Saturday night taking a break from writing to watch Bette Davis in NOW, VOYAGER- 1942. Jerry, he cannot go on taking- but he won't give her what she wants and he wants, so his decision is to stop altogether. She has settled for indulging in a fantasy because it's a close as she can get to loving the man who just doesn't love her enough to allow the love to flow freely. Is it worse that she accepts giving selflessly instead of demanding the love that she wants and deserves? Or is she taking the love that is available, keeping what she can have instead of having nothing at all? When Mr. Unrequited love asks if she will be happy, her reply ends the movie with "don't let's ask for the moon when we have the stars."

Now, Voyager final scene

So much media --the stuff that our myths are made of, the stories whether they be movies, books, TV- they all tell us there is something wrong with you if you are a woman alone. Yet according to the American way, especially post-feminist era, it is rugged individualism that should not be compromised no matter, nothing is worth settling.

I pose the question-- what's so wrong with accepting where you are, what you have and being honest about your openness to something better coming along? What if I waited until the perfect surf came- I might have never surfed. Isn't learning a series of imperfections, lessons accumulated for use to try and do better when next time shows up? I am a firm believer in try, try again. If you break a leg you don't sit on your bumm and wait until it gets better- that was the old days (and I suspect they had no time or patience then either)- before we had crutches. Sometimes crutches do help you get by until you can fly. Too bad I don't think that's what happened to Charlotte Vale, damn male screenwriters and novelists!

Lent- ha! hanging up on my habits...

yes i am stepping away from Facebook and Twitter until Easter Monday. I have way too many obligations and campaigns and irons in the fire and different directions that i want to pursue. Simply cannot afford the distraction right now.

I am a recovering Catholic so the lent thing is really borrowing from the brilliance of the church- i mean hey- everybody, organized religious beliefs included, have a few good ideas, right? this is simply good timing on the calendar, today being MARDI GRAS and all.

it just seems like a great idea to focus my keyboard time on writing (i am going to be contributing to Silicon Valley Moms blog- details in another post! if you love me- you will take the extra step off of Facebook and actually subscribe to the blog- delete if you want but subscribe please!)

I am planning a visit to LA the weekend of March 5. Please Facebook Inbox or email your phone and email info so we can connect.

Looking forward- super excited for an Easter rebirth that includes extra fabulous high octane creativity.

yay! and away we go!

Musical Masochism - Redux Deductions

Making every effort to focus. To exude diligence and knock out the to-do's lingering on a list crazy old, begging for retirement. But here I am massaging my distracted day with songs...blogging in earnest to uncover any possible themes lying in the shuffle?

Adele~ Melt My Heart to Stone
Jackie Wilson- Lonely Teardrops
MC Hammer - Can't Touch This

THIS JUST IN! Listening to Pandora BEE GEES RADIO, switched to this after an afternoon of OLIVIA NEWTON-JOHN RADIO...
Hard Habit to Break - Chicago
i think i need to stop listening to these songs. Suspect this whole genre is partially to blame for a generation of over indulgent, self-absorbed, substance abusing whiners...

from HIGH FIDELITY "did I listen to pop music because i was miserable or was i miserable because i listened to pop music?

As a kid my mom cut me off when i insisted on crying to FEELINGS and almost every BEE GEES song.. FANNY or TO LOVE SOMEBODY or HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE or Barry Manilow MANDY...OLIVIA NEWTON JOHN, Hopelessly Devoted... ANNE MURRAY, You Needed Me... the list goes on. it's almost as if 70's pop music drippy ballads were some sort of prescient telling of my (perpetually unrequited) love life. or have they served as a blue print? one that i should tear (nice double entendre there, 'eh?!) up by changing the channel? But what would be better? When I make the switch over to the musician / entertainer / ultimate sex crooner of my time - (you have to ask? Prince!) and my heart gets toyed with again when somebody throws ADORE at you in a (transient) moment of passion.

No worries, the theme song with staying power is Prince all day long... (THERE'LL NEVER B) ANOTHER LIKE ME. yay.

100% trust in a flying leap of faith with indelible spirit

where that title came from you might ask? Well of course some kind of fabulous anxiety.

"Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with God and with eternity." ~ Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

As much as I like to consider myself the bad-ass saucy tattooed chick with a punk rock heart, I am also an incurable optimist- even if it requires kicking your ass to convert you (*see post on cult following and the Irrevent Reverand's YAYmen Ministries).

This is inspiration to me. Thoughts like these keep me chugging along. Some of you in close proximity probably believe more chugging than along, and i thank you for your love, loyalty and patience.

I also found some secret inspiration- a friend of a friend- she shared these- jump started my old thinking wagon with a full tank of ooh, yeah, huhn'...

"That, Kristine, is destiny. That, is what happens when you follow your heart and your truth. Life flows. . . be well, and i know you will find this happiness and peace if you just embrace the unknown with 100% honesty." vgs

somehow from there the path trudges uphill to include- Vinnie Jones intro on the Joss Stone album...
You see I know change
I see change
I embody change
All we do is change
Yeah, I know change

We are born to change
We sometimes regard it as a metaphor
That reflects the way things ought to be

In fact change takes time
It exceeds all expectations
It requires both now and then
See although the players change
The song remains the same
And the truth is
You gotta have the balls to change.

WOW! some of it yes, falls so on the tip of your nose, well whatever. Here I am- fresh dealt a handful of cards that all mandate specific and quick change. The old ways- the habits and choices that are like a pair of high heels, familiar, cute and comfortable enough to be worn but i'm not running any marathons or hiking any hills in them. turns out they aren't that cute, they are deforming my feet and damn it, it's just plain old time for some new kicks.

so here i go. the caterpillar is wriggling around in the cocoon, sorting, packing, tossing, selling, purging a lifetime of crap. Bouncing around the Bay Area just long enough to make a healthy transition... Madame and Mademoiselle Bell butterflies are flying to make a new home in Los Angeles.

i will stop here before all of this cheesy corn makes me barf. oops wait uh-oh...

where

I've been feeling lately like a couch with plastic covers. I am functional, in fact don't work or look so different except there is something nearly invisible that is keeping me from my fullest. there is a thin veneer that is unnecessarily protecting me from being, doing, enjoying, realizing, functioning at full capacity, in true glory.

begs the question, how do I get out of my own way? seems not to be a case of coming to some tough and low spot, but finally really being here now, arriving not at a destination but at the conclusion that now is fine, but here couldn't be further from where my heart wants/needs/ is dying to be.

fear of what already is- being on my own- (insert giant DDUUHH here) has kept me in a beautiful place with wonderful people and lots of great stuff on many levels. it's just not where my heart sings.

and just like the rest of my reality- the inside doesn't match the outside (unless you are one of the super few who actually know what to see) and the passport doesn't correspond with HOME.

I can't tell you I know where to go to make my true home. I can tell you that despite abundant love and blessings, my heart is quiet. there may be some humming, but there is no song.
the good news is, I am a writer and I have unwavering faith and an indelible spirit to carry me through- I am writing the song and I am sure that the love I crave will be there to applaud when the melody comes. and if that means it's Xoxa and I- that's fantastic, she is magic you know.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

full blue eclipse

looking forward. surrendering all of the bags full of crap from the past 3+ decades at the border and moving forward beyond the gate into the magic of a full blue eclipsing moon.

Put the power of change to good use- promising to remember everyday to actively value myself to the ultimate benefit of the world around me. Those who know can testify and those who don't yet must trust, that coming from me this is not some self-serving trickle down scheme but a take care of myself in order to be of more quality service.

It seems as I review old journal entries and find affirmation and inspiration through information that two notions insist with persistence: remembering and resisting.

If only i could remember on a daily basis that exercise and economy rock, always and all ways. Tools that rule fool! By exerting my body and control over the myriad other resources I have, duh, living life at maximum capacity can be sustainable and full. Money would flow or at least not seem to vaporize to the dark side. By imposing the same rigor on my emotions- WARNING to those unaware, when I am not busy fighting crimes against the fairer sex, there is a wily girl at the wheel with 'woe is me' blasting through crackling speakers!~ but I digress...~ the tick-tock of time and accumulation of funky long face footage filling the mighty memory banks of my mind, well it's just not really the best use of space.

I pledge to give myself what I need and plenty of it. Remember that life tends toward- INSERT DEEP REAFFIRMING THOUGHT HERE BECAUSE TRY AS I MIGHT I CAN'T FIND MINE.

rather than risk resisting some good old fashioned editing- I will close here with a pledge to work on building a stronger core and to engage in more of the hard work, to be the best mom and me known. Loving myself is a daily activity not something I can put on layaway. Here's to love.

11

real, true, genuine friends are there to be the eyes that see what you can't see. not unlike trying to plug your ear with your elbow, you can get close, but you don't ever really see yourself. even more than to see, a real friend is the one who articulates you to you and you walk away hand in hand anyway. friends aren't all about laughs or even fun. in fact it's my closest friends that share my worst memories. it's the sharing while you're traversing those pothole pocked roads and either crying, laughing or finally breathing once it's all shrinking away in the distance in the rear view mirror. those are the folks you want in your corner, the ones you keep safe in your heart.

i'm super lucky and extra grateful because though i do a lot for my friends, maybe sometimes too much-- they are not afraid to say, yo! darlin' you are kickin' it up past 11 again and while I LOVE LOVE LOVE you, it's a lot, can we turn the magnificent dial down a bit? and wow, how many of us are lucky enough to know how it feels to get checked? what i'm talking about goes a few marks beyond tough love, we're talking tossed back straight and tall, no salt or lime training wheels- and maybe even some bad attitude or a headache to keep the memory alive past the initial burn. these are brave people i tell you- i pride myself on going above and beyond as the rule- i am a stellar friend of the first order, real blue ribbon, not counting the exceptions to my rule of course... and those of you with court-side season tickets, well the action can get a bit overwhelming, chaotic and more flavorful than gumbo the day after.

it's all good. i get it. trust me, i've been headliner, roadie and manager for a long time. it's a lot, no doubt about it- but then again, we can't all be supercharged all the time-- and damn, that's the price you pay for priceless. yay i say, yay- and i promise to keep adjusting the gauges as needed- don't want to blow my speakers or my fanbase for that matter.