audrey

Audrey,

Thanks for all the joy.  The following says it all: https://www.youtube.com/embed/8QqEVFzBivg” target=”_blank”>Audrey Hepburn montage

Audrey candid or posed? What a genius babe icon rockstar.

rape victim

is the title of many poems

and that gives me hope

because I know that there is a lot of recovery potential out there.

I am trying to make a point about womanhood; rebels without a cause tend to have causes.

I am playing games.  I chose this photo for a very specific personal reason.  I don’t know why things like this give me comfort but they do.  A wise woman once said that she enjoyed envisioning the marriage of things rather than the opposition of things.  I really dug that.

#tomboy #michellerose #prettynamecomplex #socialexperiment

be

just “be” yourself.

heady

we get it.  you want to say something big.  unafraid.

 

preparedness

preparedness i’m focusing on you and I like it.

My poetry has become: feminism trigger girl foreground beach background humanized nature blue like a color and pretty like a girl.

self torture surrender

If the beach is where I belong, then of course I’m gonna end up with skin cancer, right?

caffeine is a wonderful social lubricant, in my humble opinion

Studies show simply being around happy people makes you happy, right?  I don’t know.  I think it’d break my heart to see all those people thinking they were happy at the beach while they were getting skin cancer… or would it?  Do I have a way of sabotaging everything?  Why am I thankful for it.  It’s me.  I have a feeling my “thankfulness” for it is adaptive.  I’m pretty sure the fact that all I’m doing is “getting fucked up on caffeiene” and watching a movie I’ve avoided for… seven years… seven years… is it no coincidence that all I ever wanted was to be a writer, and I happen to be the perfect little poet?  I resent how quaint and cute I am.  I prey upon it to become stronger.  I really dig the extra “e” I put in caffeine.  I hate it without the extra “e.”  I think I’ll spell it caffeiene, and only I will ever know the real reason I did that.  Is this what it means to be a writer?  Gloria Steinem I’d rather be a regular woman like you than be a writer.  I know that you are a writer; it’s just that every woman is a writer, and I really think I’d like to leave it at that.

It’s like you’d never understand because I know how it feels to feel like Penny Lane in Almost Famous, and maybe you do and maybe you don’t; I hope you can.  There is a certain magic to us girls; resenting the preceding statement, I revert back to a side of me that strives to be solely analytical.

Gravity. Magic. Girls. Is there anything wrong with the preceding three words all in a row like that? I apologize to my loved ones for living as though I’m dying, but something about lighting Grandpa’s Yarzheit candle earlier today helps make that all go away.  Gratitude is fucking crazy man.

“Why are you taking love like it’s some kind of blessing?”

mystery man

I feel like I know what James Dean was like.  I think most people could imagine.  James Dean I thank you for your sexy naivete: focused to the point of destruction<-I heard that somewhere recently and it rings true with you, and me.  I did say that I would take Forever27 as a challenge; I didn’t know it would mean so much to me.

ugly girl complex

“This girls got a whacked out ugly girl complex.  She’s gorgeous.”

“I think she’s ugly.”

“I think she doesn’t matter.”

“She is something else.”

proud moment

I like the way she doesn’t care what people think of her.  For example, her interest in the following photo feels like this moment had been placed, based on where this article began:

I am trying to make a point about womanhood; rebels without a cause tend to have causes.

I’d rather not think about negativity, although I appreciate it as a reminder.  To me this photograph is a reminder of the suffering of womanhood; it lays it to rest in just the right way for me.  I guess that’s why I love the Britney “Control Freak” shot.  I am a control freak, which says a lot about me, and I am a “true artist” which also says a lot about it; it’s pressures that were placed for no reason at all; does everyone feel this?  I was feeling peaceful about reality, like about how its all been done so I can chill because life makes sense, and then its like wait a second; I’m living life too, and what have I been working toward…something about human suffering, so its okay to tend to my own.

release; letting go?

most image-ey pic of me

heavens

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2283876/Audreys–chocoholic-Hepburn-returns-big-screens-new-Galaxy-advert.html

I am marking this as creepy for myriad reasons. More than I find it creepy, I find it comforting, but I feel the need to at least acknowledge that there is some creepiness here, and though “missing loved ones” is not necessarily creepy, it follows, and though I did not know Audrey personally; although this is a very old article it somehow takes me back to my late friend who I regard in some way the way I regard Audrey. I am listening to “Pardon Me” by Incubus feeling guilty for missing my dear friend, for imposing on the souls of those who have passed, as I too feel trespassed by external imposition. Apologies to my loved ones, gratitudes. I’m sorry I miss you so, and I don’t know why I had to lose so many of you so quickly, or why I got so attached, or why this song is so great to me; I know I’ll hate it another day. Pardon me. While I burn. And rise above the flame. Pardon me Audrey for receiving so much joy from you, and all of my other loved ones who I imagine I am keeping here on Earth in my memories when all you want to do is transcend and move on. I know it’s silly to think like this on some level, but… and then I don’t care that I don’t know how to explain myself any longer. “I rather feel like expressing myself, and I could certainly use a release,” A.Hepburn in “Funny Face.” Have you heard of empathicalism? The best part is that I am wearing a skinny black pant; no the best part is that only I know what I’m talking about ;-D.

technology abstinence

My Mac Book Pro broke last Spring and my iPhone5S has been on the fritz for nearly a month.  I must say I kind of like it.

It’s not the first time I’ve gone without technology.  I feel like Holly Golightly of Breakfast at Tiffany’s as I hear my mind describe the way I can’t seem to hold onto these mobile devices.  It reminds me of the way she spoke about her cat.  “We just took up by the river one day… I don’t think anything can belong to anybody… The way I see it I don’t have a right to give him a name.”  In this scene Audrey Hepburn’s character is looking for a phone for her new neighbor.  She ends up retrieving the rotary phone from a suitcase where she had placed it because “it muffles the sound.”

Why do I reference Audrey and all of my comfort films?  These things have sustained me for the past several years.  Why did I watch Casablanca on repeat, or Breakfast at Tiffany’s?  Why did I read “The Bell Jar” (Sylvia Plath) so many times, and always in the cold frigid wintertime?  Why do I have these patterns, and how is this related to me as a healer?  I shrug for a moment.  It’s clear to me.  Perhaps it is ineffable.  It’s nice to hear my thoughts, to see my thoughts written down in a concrete form.  It’s actually a little unnerving.  I havn’t written in years it seems; well no I havn’t really written in years, and I am a writer.  I’ve filled more journals than I can remember.  I have chronic pain in my scapula because of my excessive writing, and I once was so frustrated with myself that I forced myself to write a “book”, or “not put down the pen” until my empty journal was filled with a beginning, middle, and end.  That happened.  It took me ten hours.  I never put down my pen.  Every other chapter was fiction spliced with stream of consciousness.  What a way to allow your mind’s subconscious to release, huh.  Get yourself to write some fiction, refuse to allow yourself to put down the pen, and then enforce some stream of consciousness.  I didn’t really love what I wrote, and I’d probably be too embarrassed to look at whatever the stream of consciousness revealed.

I really feel the need to watch Practical Magic (starring Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman).  There’s a lot of girl power going on in my life right now with Christine of the Christine’s of the good humans of New York.

Here’s some bodywork advice: Eat well, drink water, exercise, and get rest.

Fashion advice: Prioritize comfort even if comfort to you means “looking good”.  Figure out what comfort means to yourself, but maybe my point is you can be your optimal self when your comfortable.

rock and roll advice: Listen to Tommy backwards.  You’ll see your whole future (That’s a line stolen from my comfort film Almost Famous that Zoey Deshnel delivers to the character who plays her uncool younger brother).

 

excellent clip from breakfast at tiffany’s

if i could find a real life place like tiffany’s