Focal Point

Where your mind goes is where you’ll end up. You only carry the weight of what you keep in your focus. Without a balanced mind you don’t have a focal point to devote to achieving goals. You gotta learn to find balance within yourself to be able to focus on other things. Don’t let anyone tell you not to spend time working on yourself. 

When I started writing... It was darkness. As gritty and disturbing as I could. Lightness was never a thought. Due to its nature I wrote under a pen name. Mostly because they wouldn't publish it under a woman. An attractive woman they said "shouldn't write things like this! Why not write about love?" After years of lacking the balance, I found the lightness at the urging of a colleague who doesn’t care for who I become in the darkness and now I’m capable of focus that allows me to walk between the light & dark parts of myself to create.

We all walk between lightness & darkness. It's a choice to be happy or sad or angry or calm. Darkness or Light. And... It's also a choice to create. The balance & focus to work with both at will & not be ruled by either is liberating. Creating at will rather than need to be consumed by my emotional state was a risk but worth developing. 

Change is a constant. You control the balance in your life and hone it into a disciplined focus. 

Anyway. Here's a bit of fun from the novel... I'll let you decide how dark it is. 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Dedicated

(11-2012)

“You’re leading an inauthentic life if you…” trails off the audio book in my newly detailed BMW S-series hybrid sedan that my agent has me driving for the sheer fact that ‘when you’re somebody damn it, then you’re environmentally conscious in this town’ quote unquote. 

I am somebody.

Traffic has slowed to a complete stop on the 405 while the wannabe Chopra dictates how to live a more authentic life and instead of really listening all I can focus on is the license plate in front of me that reads BIG THINGS resting above an enormous pair of balls. The larger the balls the bigger the man reads the bumper sticker resting next to the ridiculously extreme nut sack in front of me. 

Alton once told me that only the most obnoxious form of trash places those adornments on their cars. We were sitting in front of some newly opened art café in the last years oh so trendy Piedmont district when she carefully pointed out the obvious offender with two of her fingers snuggly secure in a ring containing a pair of obscenely large sapphires on her right hand.  She went on to say, “Men put their ego on display by showing off their balls and women tuck their ego neatly into a pair of overpriced shoes or a piece of jewelry,” before flashing her green finger bobbles above a pair of matching Peacock Louboutins she’d stolen from my closet. 

As I stop in the middle of the memory to wonder who she’d stolen the ring from I’m yanked forward when the traffic shifts and the Faux-pra is now telling me to “fully commit to your dream” after saying “anything is possible” before jumping back to the tagline “dedicate your life to authenticity” then disc 5 ends and traffic stops once more.

“If you want your career to go anywhere you have to be dedicated to what you are doing,” Continues Guru Zero as the traffic crawls to a stop and I realize I'm not going anywhere. “How dedicated are you?” 

Morals

Morals? Life Lessons? Or just people telling us what to do? I don’t know what is best for anyone else but Buddhism gives me the answers I seek. My suggestion stands as always... find out what works best for you and run with it. If you get something out of what I’m doing then that’s amazing, but realize you can guide yourself and that’s always a great option. Trust your own voice. Develop your own moral code.

Speaking of which, since I took a lot of flack for not explaining myself on the last story post, I’ll break my own code... The Moral of the last story post: Some people you learn to trust & work with will leave you for dead to better their own situation and some people you continue to work with & trust because you know they wouldn’t ever do anything to harm you or place themeselves in harms way. You have to be willing to take the risk to let 

yourself work with people regardless of bad outcomes. You can’t penalize others from a place of fear. 

Here’s an old story that’s one of my favorites about seeking answers & finding your way.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

A Man with a Plan

(7-11-09)

Here I sit; alongside the road on a suitcase full of money in the dark of the night out this undetermined way. Hitchhiking my way to this abandoned place I’d never been, seen or heard of, somewhere in the middle of the state. Waiting to see a man. There’s been no one along this road for over an hour now, where I’m waiting for this man. This is where I should be; exactly where I was told to be. See I’ve got some unfulfilled thoughts in my head. I’ve spent the last two years without a home to call my own, wandering this earth in a never-ending search to find my way back. So here I am looking for answers. Answers from a man - a Man with a Plan they call him. Some say he’s a mystic and can see the future. Others say he knows every answer to every question that ever is, was or ever will be. I don’t know about all that hocus pocus, but I’d pay any price for some answers to these questions that disturb my mind and condemn my soul to burn in continued torment. 

Lights, far in the distance approach. Too remote to distinguish the image behind the irregular dots that slowly close in on my position. The answers that I seek are coming to me for a change. 100k in unmarked bills was the price I was given. This exact amount guaranteed me three questions. I was told “The Man will have the answers and know you before you even lay eyes on him.” Desperate men cling to any shimmer of hope when the cards are down. Don’t ask me what I did to get that money. I’m not proud. But I need to know NOW! I’ve reached the end of my rope and losing grip on reality. 

In the darkness, the pitch black night is still except for the lights of the car that swiftly approaches. There’s no moon tonight. The sky is a beautiful canvas blanketed with stars. More twinkling diamonds than the mind can attempt to count. The black Model T pulls up and scatters the dust around. In the car is a man. Not an older man by any accounts. Not a young man either. The look in his eyes speaks volumes. He’s seen things that will haunt you to the grave. Eyes are the gateway to a man’s soul. This Man knew things and his eyes couldn’t hide it. “Eli,” He knows my name. “Get in the car. Let’s GO!” I grab my suitcase and walk around the car. Throw my suitcase in the back and before I’ve got both feet in front of me and the door closed, he’s speeding off into the night once again. 

25 minutes have rolled by. No sign of any living thing along this road. Its pitch black and the only illumination is from the small headlights shining out on the road before us. It casts an unusual pallor on the Man’s skin. He almost seems to be translucent. Quiet. He hasn’t said a word since he picked me up. I’m certain he’ll spark up any moment cause I’m shrunk up against the passenger door and staring wildly. He looks over at me with a wide grin and it’s unclear to me who is truly mad, me or him. Just as his attention returns back to the road the Man lets out a roar of laughter. The car keeps rolling. 

Another 15 minutes roll on and he perks up again. “I suppose you have questions for me?” says the Man. I nod my head. “There’s really no need to ask them. I have the answers for you. They’ve been with us all night, somewhere alongside that road, in the dark, under that pitch black night sky filled with the twinkling stars.” I cough and take a deep breath. The Man points out the window. “See that hill out there,” I can only make out an outline of what he’s showing me, as it’s far too dark to see into the distance clearly. “That’s where I’m going, and you can come with me, if you’d like. But I can’t answer those questions for you. I can promise you will find peace of mind if you come with me. The answers on the other hand can only provide you with knowledge. You must make your own peace with what you learn from them. I can’t guide you any further than that. Do not worry. You have time to decide.” The car moves forward at a quicker pace. 

About a half an hour later, we come to a fork in the road. He slams on the brakes bringing us to a dead stop. I lurch forward in my seat and fall back quickly. Before the dust of the road clears he’s out of the car pacing, almost running, back and forth between the two roads. There are no signs of any kind on the road. He seems panicked and bewildered. After a few more minutes, he jumps back in the car, slams the door and we choose the left flank. “Sorry about that I didn’t see this coming at all.” He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes the sweat off his brow. It’s a woman’s, embroidered with initials that I’m unable to see clearly. So, how are you doing Eli? Feeling any better about those questions, yet?” He grins and keeps driving. 

“Alright now Eli,” says the Man as he slows the car, “I know you’ve got a million questions in that brain of yours right now, as I’ve got all these answers swimming around in mine. You know the rules, Eli. Three, I can only answer three. I can’t tell you what happens if you don’t come with me. I can not answer that one.” He pauses and then looks me directly in the eye. “Do not ask me about death or love. There is no certainty in either. I am warning you before you waste your time asking such things.” Just as soon as he’s spoken his peace, his eyes leave mine and return back to the road. Strange fellow. But I like his company nonetheless. 

“You’re READY then?” He spins his head around so fast I almost jump in my seat. Quite startling. The car stops. I take a deep breath and nod. 

“Seeing how I just came here looking for some answers, I think that’s what you should give me. Your offer to find peace is generous. Don’t get me wrong. You’re good people, I can tell. I don’t have anything to hold me here so it sounds pretty fair. And for the most part you’ve been good company so far.” He’s sitting quiet in front of me listening without interrupting. I stop. He pauses and starts to drive again. 

“You aren’t sure. The answers tell me that. I can’t choose for you Eli. You can’t ask that either.” He says in a somber and quiet voice. “But have it your way then.” We sit in silence another half an hour as the car crawls up this twisted and winding road far too small for even one car to pass through safely. 

The car rolls to a stop. Before he gets out something escapes from his mouth. “The initials are M.M. And don’t worry I won’t hold it against you. That one was on me. I always did like a curious man with a sense of humor.” He picks up a large rock effortlessly and throws it in the back. Gets back in and drives. 

“Since you’ve decided and I’m almost where I need to be, let’s get on with this then.” The Man takes a deep breath and looks at me. I swear there’s a tear in his eye. “The 1st - It’s always been there in front of you. Be patient and wait, its coming. The 2nd - 27 minutes left. The Reaper’s moving in fast tonight.” He sighs and stops. “Eli. I’m not answering that one. You already know the answer. You don’t need me to re-affirm it. Eli, it is within all of us to know that truth. Do not doubt your instincts.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “The 3rd - No, I’m not who you think. And yes, I will return for you tonight.” He stops talking and motions me out. As he closes the door on me, “Lastly, another one on me - She did love you. But you can not stop her death.” His lights disappear into the dark just as suddenly as they emerged from it. The suitcase is next to me and there’s a large rock for me to sit on. Wait.

Light & Dark

Within us all there is the potential to be both light and dark. The trick is embracing both your light and dark elements to find balance. 

-m.

Challenges

Life’s filled with challenges & accomplished challenges. Whatever you want to do is on the other side of fear. And often working with others means you overcome a fear so you learn to trust them because you trust yourself.

There’s a pivotal moment in life where you start trusting yourself and rise to life’s challenges by guiding yourself through them. It’s nice to impart what I’ve learned through Buddhism and my metaphysical teachings to others but it’s absolutely amazing when they start guiding themselves without my sharing any wisdom. When you start challenging yourself instead of relying on others... life changes. Realize you are a force to be reckoned with and you don’t need anyone to tell you differently than your own voice. Love yourself and see yourself as the universe already does. It’s amazing!

Here’s another old very dark story. I will cite Matisse and won’t tell you more except I am finding time to focus on writing & drawing again because inspiration is forever.

Enjoy! 

Kisses, m.

Still Life

(September 25, 2009)

Floating. Weightless. Sinking.

There are a million thoughts in my mind as I’m descending further toward a watery grave. The loose pieces of white sheets dance in the aquamarine expanse that surrounds. The long black tendrils of my hair reach up to grasp and the last remaining spark of golden light that penetrates the water’s surface.

It’s not clear to me how long I have before hitting the bottom, or perhaps even, how long I can continue to hold my breath. There are so many uncertain feelings in my gut. Would this time be different? Had I pushed him too far? Would he really let me die? As I descend deeper and deeper, the pressure becomes heavier and it’s now a struggle to hold my breath. These last moments are becoming quieter and darker. The small glint of golden light is diminishing and the sea around me becomes bluish darkness.

Killing me had always been a threat that neither of us took seriously. Artists. Painters. We were so passionate, emotional, misguided, highly wounded and intense individuals. Both to blame so very often. Even after he dropped me off a building, hit me with a car, and took a knife to my face, I still believed in his devotion… as all was in the sake of the craft and I was never in any harm. The beauty of the moment - the creation of a single timeless instant to be frozen for all eternity. After the anger there was always such impractical beauty. Researched. Polaroided. Cataloged. Painted. Hung in the museum, the gallery, or the rich man’s wall for all to envy. This time I’m afraid he’s quite determined and madness has taken over. The madman fitted me with a pair of cement shoes which seal my fate. This will be over soon.

No point in struggling. That will only ensure that I’ll drown sooner. I’m wrapped tightly in 50 yards of white canvas bound by ropes from my shoulders to the base of my calves. Mummified in an eternal moment at the base of the ocean. The fool wanted to see the beauty in my death so he never wrapped my face. “There will be no need to gag you,” calmly he tells me as his hand brushes my cheek and pauses. Look him in the eye for answers. “You won’t scream or you’ll suffocate faster.” There are none as his gaze breaks away. He lifts me and carry me to the edge of the dock. “I can’t change this. You understand? This is the epitome. The final boundary - death. You must see the beauty in this. I love you.” Laugh. Kiss my forehead. Let go.

I’m falling. Watching his face from beneath the surface as it scrutinizes my descent.

Holding my breath is becoming unbearable. It’s quite apparent to me now… there’s no return. Pretty certain I’m reaching the threshold of my limits. Open mouth, release a bubble of air. The time is almost here. I’m fading. There’s no more strength. Take in water. Soon… open eyes and mouth, pale white skin, blood red lips, and aquamarine darkness against white canvas. Breathtaking beauty, researched, photographed, cataloged and then painted. Still life.

Living In Moments

Writing about the Dead is more about living than dying. To remember those you’ve lost is a nice memory but you must remember to focus on the living and connect with others. That’s part of living... connecting. Moments aren’t always enough to bind or bond people. Getting to know someone is what keeps them in your mind, heart & memories. Focus on the present. Love yourself. 

Here’s an old one, from another of my favorite series’ The D Men, that’s about the living & considering change for the better if you get the chance. Enjoy whether you have or haven’t read it before.

Do you focus on the living or the dying?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

The Dead

(6-28-2011) 

 

“Baby, I love you come back to bed.” She says.

The soft voice whispers and speaks the truth.

And it’s the last truth that echoes before he’s awake.

The same conundrum wakes Classer Andresen from a dead sleep. Night after night, different places, different women and the same thing happens for Classer Andresen. The whisper precedes a memory. Not the last moment, but one all entirely different.

A random instance where she was there in his arms. In the dark of the Study standing next to the window and he was wrapped around her. His mind is surrounded by the smell of the room intensified by the sensation of his touch he lets his mind wander with the thought. Imagining the smell of the dusty room filled with old books could still make him jump hard with a hunger for her.

Stiff, hungry and hung over when he jars himself free from the waking dream, Classer can’t quite shake the sensation of the moment. Looking over, he visually makes out a long pair of legs attached to a thin brunette.  The small dimple of her back feels just like the one in his memory. But it’s not. As he moves his eyes up from bottom to top he can see the signs of his night. Two wrappers trail the edge of the sheets before giving way to a third. At least his efforts were protected even if he can’t seem to remember them. The perfection of the thin body next to him lifts and lowers with small shallow breathes. With the dark hair covering her face she might be the mirror image of Inara. Soft corners of her lips peeking out from the curly mess of long brown locks could fool him the same way the others fooled him every night.

This one, her name was Rachel. She told him that was her name, but it might be something else. He distinctly remembers a Heather or a Michelle. These women seem to be all the same when there’s one after another night after night. And the one thing they seem to have in common is that they can never be her.

The women like the memories couldn’t bring Inara back into his life. She was still gone, a dead memory because he was foolish enough to let her go. Foolish enough to send her away. And much like a dead woman, thinking about her that wouldn’t change a thing or bring her back to  him. Yet his mind wanders from the simplest stimulation. Looking at the book on the nightstand is intoxicating to his mind and sends his thoughts back into the past looking for her.

The air around them was stagnating in the dark Study. Dusty from the smell of old volumes of truth. Although her lips kept begging him back to bed, her hands were making different plans altogether. Down around his back she cups his ass and pulls him close. Without a thought he reaches beneath her robe and lets his hand move up and inside her thighs. Soft, warm and welcoming she kisses him when touches her.

Snapping back to present he’s ready for more. But to wake the creature next to him would only shake the moment from before. So he quietly runs his fingers across the skin of her thighs before getting up from the bed. It’s all he can do to avoid waking his anonymous companion as he gently shuts the bathroom door. Awake means questions and questions require answers. Answers are something that Classer really doesn’t want to supply at 3am for a woman he’s known less than six hours.

In the bathroom there’s wrappers four and five making an appearance. At least there is comfort in knowing that he safely could handle his alcohol and anonymous bedfellows. But this night wasn’t like any other and Classer knew it.

Tonight much like the dead didn't like to rest, the memories kept coming back to him haunt. The cool drip of the faucet sets his mind wandering backwards toward the same sound of water gently tapping at the window in the moment that cannot become again.

Kicking the back of his legs she let his movements climb and rise. The sound of her breath and moans greet the pulse of his hips and the touch of his hands. Slowly the sounds between them come to an end. Inara kisses the soft part of his bottom lip before taking in the whole of his mouth.

It’s there the memory always fades.

Still staring at the floor and standing next to the sink Classer can’t gather himself quickly enough. His face in the mirror seems the same and very different. There are a thousand reasons to go out there and pick up where he left off with the thin brunette named Rachel or Heather or Michelle and only one to pick up and leave…

She wasn’t her.

And none of them ever would be. None of the living could replace the dead memory of her. And none of these women could ever replace her ghost that haunted his memory. Sometimes she was there in a sound or a breath, but her pure essence could never be captured in a night of mindless pleasure. But for a moment or two he could bring back the ghost of her with a thought. And although it was the purest form of intoxication for his mind, Classer knew he couldn’t live in those memories. That’s all they were.

“Baby, come to bed,” She calls.

In a small voice he can hear the woman call to him.

And it’s the only truth that he can face when he looks in the mirror before turning out the light and going back into the room.