Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Pause


Hiatus. Taking a break or pressing pause on one part of your life means you are on hiatus. Once I forced myself to take a year off from blogging but did not stop writing, photographing or drawing. There is probably still more unpublished work in that year than anything I had written prior.

Currently, I am still creative but I have put blogging on pause and intermittently been using social media. It has been a long unplanned pause. It definitely was unplanned. Let us get this in the open: I did not take a break, hit pause or go on hiatus for mental or physical health issues. I am all right and did not step back intentionally. However, my life required that I prioritize my daily responsibilities differently to deal with circumstances beyond my control.

This has kept me away from friends, sometimes checking in with friends and oh, so many things I was accustomed to being a part of my routine. I take many blessings for granted that I am involved with and there are many people that I miss seeing. Sometimes you have to accept that the universe has other plans and let it all happen… so I let go and paused. There was no force, it was just quiet and felt completely natural to focus on other things.

This has all been weird because it is hard to be restrictive with my life. Typically, I am transparent with myself; I reach out, pester and cannot help myself when it comes to people in my life.

Tbh, I cannot say I will or will not be posting regularly again, but I am not on a hiatus and the plan is just to go with the flow. It has been very Zen. Highly recommend taking breaks from all the unnecessary things you think you need to do. 

Do you ever take social media breaks? On purpose? Here is an old story that is a bit dark from the D Men about a person that wanted to get away from his life and someone gave him exactly what he wanted. 

 

Enjoy

Kisses, m.

 


Departure

(3-17-11)


Jackson Slater you’re an irrelevant bastard. You are going straight to hell. And no one will notice you’re gone.” says Haller Thomson.


Those are the final words Haller has chosen before we leave the shore. I keep telling myself this isn’t happening but that doesn’t change the circumstances at all. I can’t quite place the location of the boat with my eyes blindfolded. But north of the docks is as good as any guess.


What you have to understand is that I pretty much deserve to be in this position. A position that I created for myself. Although I wouldn’t have admitted it before now. Which is about 15 minutes after I should have admitted it.


I wasn’t particularly a great man or a man of character. On the whole I was a terribly shallow man with a talent for avoiding the obvious. Avoiding was a brilliant art that I mastered; especially when it came to people.  People can be so incredibly co-dependent that you might say avoiding them helps them. One might say I wrote the chapter on avoidance and I would have corrected them by handing them an autographed copy of the book.


My own sense of vanity ran deeper than any river. The great Jackson Slater renowned for his looks. And I was. My personal routine involved several hours a day before many mirrors in a grooming ritual that would make a cat’s look amateur. For the most part I had lived my entire life pretending that nothing was happening around me. I hadn’t worried about such things.


And I couldn’t be more wrong. There was plenty happening all around me, I just didn’t care about it. Besides everything went away if you threw enough money at the problem.  And if it didn’t, ignoring it often worked for me.


Jackson, I want you to know this isn’t about the money. It’s a matter of my word. My integrity. I promised to come through on my end of things.” Haller tells me softly as the boat shimmies a little faster.


Unlike most people I was hardly the kind of fellow to be drawn in. As a matter of my own personal character I felt it was my duty to be exactly the opposite. I’m the type of man who would fervently deny that a building was on fire to save myself the trouble of becoming involved. It meant caring and that would not do. People want a piece of you and then that is one less piece you have for yourself.


And lack of involvement is exactly where I find myself this windy April evening.  Somewhere in the bay I’m free of the mask and looking at the man…


Haller Thomson came into my life exactly the same way a freight train mows down your car when the engine stalls on the tracks. With the fury of an uncontainable beast, Haller came forth. And it wasn’t something I could have seen coming before it happened. It wasn’t money that he was after when he came. It was so much more.


A man with an offer only a shallow man wouldn’t refuse…


If you help me, I will help you. Give a little of this for a little of that. And I went along for it. Including the part where I had planned to double-cross the man. Because I only thought of what he could offer me.  


Except it never works out the way we plan.


Plan? I bet the great Jackson Slater wants to know. Don’t you? Well, Jack I don’t have a plan. Except for tying you up and gagging you. That. That’s a plan. Don’t struggle. We’re almost there.”


Haller wanted someone to help with a situation. It was a matter of vanity; as any man can attest to his own level of vanity. Haller was a bit different. He was concerned and wanted no more than a bit of help becoming more involved with others despite his own shortcomings.


You see, Haller wasn’t a good looking man. In fact, you might call him unattractive after he’s left the room. And for what it’s worth, I thought I did him a favor after I pocketed most of his money. At the time I thought there was nothing I could have done to draw flies to that level of hideous. But I did what I thought worked best… for me.


Haller took a new name, a new lifestyle, and a new set of bills thanks to me. He lived and breathed my routine of shallow and I gladly introduced him to the right people at the right places. And with a little less than luck he fell right into it. Haller took to it like a fish takes to toxic waste waters and grows a third eye. It wasn’t a gradual mutation either. Overnight there was a new fresh uninvolved man and it wasn’t me.


Haller began to see me, the great Jackson Slater as direct competition to his new persona. A person with an agenda that no longer matched his own. You have to wonder where the struggle began. Exactly right after he decided that he could do it without me. And for a lot cheaper. Once he realized I was taking him for a pretty penny, Haller Thomson decided that it was time to fulfill his end of things.


An eye for an eye.


And what was my request? I was tired of all that was happening around me. I wanted to escape from all of it; being Jackson Slater with the people, their nonsense, and their involvement. I simply asked this man to help to put me in a place where I would never have to deal with these kinds of situations ever again. And now much to my dismay, Haller is holding up his end of the arrangement.


Jackson, it’s been fun. Now… get off my boat.” With the bottom of his boot, Haller shoves me out into the dark water. Despite what I expect, I don’t sink. As his tiny boat moves away from me, I watch without control as the cold water splashes against me.


This isn’t exactly the escape I’d hope for but I didn’t specify when I asked. I only wanted out.


Now I am.


Completely out. Out to sea. Adrift. Letting the waves wash over me.


Careful what you ask for. Even now as I sink slowly and my eyes watch the emergency buoy float further away from me I know that pretending that nothing else exists will be the thing that seals my fate. Because not one person will notice. I was so busy avoiding it all that it wouldn’t make any difference.



Monday, December 9, 2019

Barbie’s Malibu Dream House by Airbnb

Barbie loves all things Barbie and her favorite is her Malibu dreamhouse... someone brought the magical doll’s dreamhouse to life. This Fall the people at Airbnb created a fashionable IRL version of Barbie’s quintessential Malibu dream home and invited everyone to see... 

Barbie’s Malibu Dream House by Airbnb



The Barbie Malibu Dreamhouse was available for a two-night-stay to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the doll, which was created by Mattel in 1959. The listing was written as if Barbie herself wrote and included features of the hillside property such as outdoor terraces, infinity pool and cinema room. The interior decor matches perfectly with Barbie’s aesthetic of pink and kitsch.












Would you love to stay in Barbie’s Malibu Dream House by Airbnb?


Barbie would!
Enjoy!
Kisses, m. 

Saturday, November 9, 2019

Passion House M5 by Arhitect 11

People trying to convince you that something has passion are usually the ones that are faking it. Have a great passion for living and all that you do will be authentic including your love affairs. Here’s a passionate dreamhouse...

Passion House M5 by Arhitekt 11




Part of a series this sustainable home was designed as an independent home like a summer cottage with sauna.








Do you fancy this passion project?
Barbie does!
Enjoy!
Kisses, m.

Thursday, November 7, 2019

Winchester Mystery House

Every good mystery involves less words, more examination & experience. The more someone says the less, they are really telling you. You learn more about someone through their actions, not their words. Here’s a dreamhouse that leaves a great deal of mystery for all who experience it, with very little explanation...

The Winchester Mystery House 




The labyrinthine home was constructed over a period of 38 years by Sarah Winchester, the wealthy widow of William Wirt Winchester, of Winchester rifle fame. After the premature deaths of her daughter and husband, a shaken Mrs. Winchester reportedly consulted a medium, who informed her that the spirits of those killed by Winchester rifles were haunting her family. The medium instructed her to head west and build a house for the spirits, who would no longer bother her as long as construction never stopped. Thus the massive Winchester Mystery House was born; in its final iteration, the home—which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places—contains 2,000 doors, 47 stairways,, 47 fireplaces, six kitchens, and 10,000 windows.









Would you love to experience the mystery of this dreamhouse?

Barbie thinks you might...
Enjoy!
Kisses, m.



Monday, November 4, 2019

Band-Aid




You are the only one responsible for your healing because you are the only one who can heal you. People can help but ultimately you are the band-aid for your feelings & capable of healing your body, soul and mind. Much like bandages giving support and protecting your wound to keep out things to harm it is your job to keep yourself safe so your emotional state can heal. Take care of yourself dolls and kens. Here’s a old story...


Do you place healing in your own self? 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.



Healer

(9-26-2017)


Trust your heart.” He tells me. “Your eyes won’t always see the truth.” 


There are times when people may seem friendly but they threaten all you hold dear. But he wasn’t one of them. From the moment we met he has been the best teacher I’ve known. His heart was open to mine without expectations or worry of what I should be. 


Tonight as he inists that I do not owe him my heart, the rain pounds outside the windows and winds shake the trees reminding me of how we met…


A dark rainy evening brought me into his company.  Escaping the pain of another, I was making my way through a rainstorm. His bookstore had a light on, so I entered without hesitation. The rain masked my tears as I collected myself in the entry. He was in the back of the shop with another customer watching me shake the rain from my stockings and pull back my hair. I could see his pale blue eyes from where I stood and they were watching me. His stare wasn’t unpleasant or harsh. It was greeted with a smile before turning back to his business.  I could hear him give his pleasantries and turn back toward me. As he moved, it was as if time stopped as he walked toward me. My heart knew then before I did that I was in love with this man.  


Several special book orders later, he became my teacher giving me fiction I’d never heard of. Voraciously my appetite for knowledge was eager for more. Often I worried my hunger for more was too much for him but always he obliged my requests without question. Eventually he curiously asked to know of the hole in my heart that left me hungry.  When I told him of my wounded heart, the man that lied and left me empty, he shared his wisdom and past. Months grew to years as these things do and his words led to his hands that slowly did their work to mend my mind and soon enough my heart. 


Times are hardest when you don’t know what to trust. My heart nearly whole by his healing hands and soul wants to belong to him, but there’s hesitation. It’s when I find myself doubtful that he tells me… “Trust your heart, my love” and I know with certainty that he already has mine.