January 2004
14 posts
Almost Famous
When I was about sixteen years old, a friend of my mother’s came to the house to visit. She brought another acquaintance named Vicky with her, and the usual conversations ensued as they drank their afternoon coffee. I remember rounding the corner of the hallway to find Vicky looking at the collection of family photographs hanging on the wall. You know the kind of family...
I’ve had dreams lately….
…odd, peculiar dreams. Noteable, to the point where I made certain to write them down in order to share. They’ve been GLORIOUSLY detailed. Vivid…sprawling dreams. So many that in actuality there are too many to tell. But one night in particular was incredible. Although I am departing from my normal journal entries….I will share one...
“We trade our dreams for what we call wisdom. I wonder….. if it is a good trade.”
- Charles Dickens, ‘David Copperfield’
As the days rush by in their hectic pace, I find myself longing to be back in London.
Perhaps a soul who has lived their whole life in that far city would find my fondness quaint. They might even correct me in my skewed view of that place,...
When I cracked open my fortune cookie today, this is what the fortune said: “You create your own stage. The audience is waiting.”
Hmmm…so appropriate for making a blog, is it not?
Do you ever have dreams that are so real, and yet…so surreal… that they stay with you long after you’ve woken up? I cannot stop thinking about this one. I wasn’t going to update my writing until tonight, but I had to capture this dream before it slipped into the grey area and was lost forever.
I was a gypsy. I had bright colored skirts, and was amongst other gypsy...
I claimed the shores of Cannon Beach Oregon for myself when I was sixteen years old. It was still a secret then, a tiny jewel only just uncovered by knowing eyes. The waters dazzled that summer… washing along the shore and over my feet, casting a king’s ransom in diamonds across my toes. I walked for miles along the smooth sand, gulping lungfulls of air tinted of woodsmoke and salt....
There I was, a gangly legged twelve year old who had all sorts of notions on what real beauty was. Sprawled on the vinyl folding chairs out on the lawn, I would stretch my pale legs out like white sprouts on a potato, slathering them with Coppertone. I wanted so badly to be tan. California-Coppertone-Beach Bunny Brown. The kind of tan where you could slip a watch off your wrist and see...
Part Two, The Ingenue in New York - 1990
The morning light flickered in my eyes as our shuttle crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, allowing me only a staggered view of the skyline. I leaned against the window of the bus and stared at the towers of the World Trade Center. They drew the horizon up above the rising sun itself, as if holding the warmth of the day aloft for all the other buildings below. ...
Part Two of The Ingenue in New York coming soon…
Waiting for the flight…. listening to music while I daydream, circa 1990
Part One - The Ingenue in New York
In 1990, I was a year out of highschool…and as wide eyed and green as any small town girl could be. For years I had dreamed of traveling. Of escaping the tiny orchard town that I grew up in, and heading out on an adventure of my own making. I still had all of the National Geographic maps that I had carefully pinned up on my bedroom wall, marking the...
When friends ask me where I was raised, I am always met with a mix of reactions. When I tell them that I was born in this sleepy little valley, and lived my whole childhood in the same house… within walking distance of my grandparents, they look at me as if I were a throwback from some bygone era. I see a flicker of jealousy in their eyes at times… these ones who were bounced from...
A detour from my daily stories. If you’ve just stumbled across my blog, you may want to scroll down a bit…and find something with more meat to it. *grins*
I have this little obsession with layouts. As you can see, I’ve redone mine… -again-. I spent hours yesterday sorting this one out, and there may still be a few minor adjustments, but for the most part…. I am...
Barbie Goes Ballistic
I was wandering through the toy aisle of a store recently, and caught myself grinning from ear to ear as I spotted the Full Size Barbie Head for sale. You know the one, with stylable hair and a face just waiting for makeup. I had the original Barbie Makeup Head… and it met an end even Stephen King would be proud of.
It was 1980, and I was home one night with my...
It is strange that the end of one year and the beginning of the next will spur on so many emotions… so many thoughts. Perhaps it is simply that humans must measure everything with a start and finish that we feel the need to reflect on what was, before we can consider what will be.
That being said, the things I chose to remember are tiny little pinpoints in what has become my life. They...