Category Archives: Dreams

Got to have faith

As I sit here smoking a skinny joint from the balcony of my posh Hollywood Hills mansion, I cannot help but remember the days when I slaved away in a dilapidated nursing home for $9 an hour.  The management were such scumbags to me there that they fought over giving me my yearly $0.30 raise and settled on a $0.15 raise for one year and a whopping $0.10 for the following. Thank-you sir may I have another!?
During those days when my boss would leave for the afternoon, I’d stare out the window and wonder how the hell I ended up in this mess. I would watch the sun go down slowly from my office window and know it was only temporary and that one day I would transcend this position by a million percent. I hated it there.
I don’t really care about mansions. I don’t really care about marijuana. I do care about options and possibilities. I don’t live in a mansion and I don’t smoke pot, but I would like the flexibility to do so if I wanted to. I have always had an interest in film. When I write my books, I envision them in three dimensions. I see them playing out in my head like the movie and that is how I often create realistic dialogue and dramatic tension. Some of the people I admire most are Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith, both writers and famous filmmakers. Both are also individuals who would be considered late bloomers by society’s standards.
Tarantino worked at a Manhattan Beach video rental store until he was thirty. It was around this time a friend with connections encouraged him to write Reservoir Dogs. It took him three weeks to write the screen play and once made into a film it received high acclaim at the Sundance Film Festival. The rest is history….
Kevin Smith has a similar story. Smith worked as a clerk at a convenience store. Around age 30, Smith maxed out his credit cards and borrowed money from family to create the epic film Clerks. The production of Clerks cost $30,000. It was filmed with a regular video camera in black and white. Smith used the convenience store where he worked as the movie set. Filming in black and white allowed him to conceal the fact that they were always filming at night (because the store was open during the day) thus giving them more flexibility for the chronological details of his script. After the completion of the film, he entered it into The Sundance Film Festival where it was picked up by Miamax almost instantly.

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Filed under Dreams, Fiction, Film, Inspirational, Life Lessons, Motivation

Becoming the woman I used to be

Lay, Lady, Lay

by Bob Dylan

 

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed

Whatever colors you have in your mind

I’ll show them to you and you’ll see them shine.

 

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed

Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile

His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean

And you’re the best thing that he’s ever seen.

 

Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile

Why wait any longer for the world to begin

You can have your cake and eat it too

Why wait any longer for the one you love

When he’s standing in front of you.

 

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed

Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead

I long to see you in the morning light

I long to reach for you in the night

Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead?

 

I’ve been too sad lately, it’s been 8 years and I should be over my former husband by now. Everyone wants me to be over it, so that’s how I pretend to be. I miss more than the man, I miss who I was with him. How easy it was to be myself, think what I wanted, feel what I wanted, express what I wanted, be quiet when I wanted. He thought so highly of me, more than I deserved. He was a plain man, quiet, funny with his close friends and  tough as hell, he treated waitresses like they were princesses and his word was gold. I was so proud that someone that good loved me. I don’t do well in captivity but like anyone else I want a soft place to land, and he was mine.

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Filed under Dreams, Fairy Tales, Growth, Healing, Heart, Life Lessons, Love, relationships

Conform!

Most artists in this country are greatly under-appreciated. When I refer to most artists, I am not talking about the musicians and actors who are bringing home multimillion dollar paychecks each year. No. I’m talking about the artists who are barely getting by and if they’re lucky, still living in their parent’s basements. These artists are hanging onto their last thread of identity, uselessly dragging their fingernails through the sand as the undertow of conformity threatens to pull them in at any moment. They are almost drowning, almost. They are tired. Tired of rejection, tired of trying, and most of all tired of fighting the culture of conformity; an entity that berates their life’s choices at every opportunity. Most give up, some drown, but a small percentage hang in there, hoping that each new day might be the day that they get their big break.

The pressure to conform is immense. It does not just come from “well-meaning” friends and family who think the solution to the artist’s problems is to get a regular 9-to-5 like everybody else. These people do not understand the call the artist is pursuing to begin with. What they’ve noticed is that the artist in their life is struggling; that they don’t have health insurance and barely enough money to pay for gas. In their eyes, these dilemmas are reason enough for the artist to give up on their unrealistic pursuit, their dream, and get a real job. And they view the artistic pursuit as just that: a dream. To them, the artist’s goal of sharing their art with the world is an unattainable fantasy.

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Promiscuity

There are some who might say that I have had way too many sexual partners in my life.  I have been tested and do not have any STD’s yet I know I have taken chances.  I think it has been a rather normal progression of people in my life and I like to think I have played it safe.  I look back at the journals I wrote during those times and I wonder what I was thinking.  I know I was imagining that this was the way to love.  My journey and documenting the stops continue to this day and I feel close to some personal truths.  My path is not for everyone but I don’t regret my life.

I had been divorced after twenty five years because the sex was terrible.  That really was the bottom line in addition to religious, personality and astrological differences.  So when I was free I went looking.  I actually found an affair while I was still married.  The Internet swept me into a world that still intrigues me.  Bruce was my first fellow and he gave me the kisses I was missing. My ex is still a fine friend but I needed more.  I found it and never looked back.

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Filed under Addiction, Art, Dating, Destiny, Dreams, Heart, Love, Passion, relationships, Sex, Uncategorized, Writing

A knife in the heart

In moving a lot I’ve had to adapt to many different jobs. After moving from Idaho to rural Minnesota I tried selling Real Estate again, but the home prices were so low that I was barely covering my gas and advertising.

One night I attended a PartyLite party at the home of a new friend. Lisa, the consultant, showed us candles and gift-ware and mentioned that she averaged $100 in income per party. I listened closely. I couldn’t afford to buy anything, but asked her to contact me. Two weeks later I booked my “starter party” (and the 6 parties I’d give as a requirement to earn a free kit). We were new in a town of under 1100 people. I knew only the ladies who worked at the bank in town so it was a tough start. I didn’t know, at the time, the impact Lisa would have in my life. I was the first consultant she sponsored that made it past the first 6 parties. It wasn’t that I was great at it. I was desperate. 

1st Card from Lisa

The card from Lisa thanking me for the guest list for my starter party. She says "I'll think we'll make good partners - and I know you have what it takes to be successful." Powerful words, I looked at them often and they lived in my heart.

I was honored in my first year when our Sr. Regional VP, Susan, called to ask me to do my first training. She had the national sales averages and said my number of guests per party was higher than the regional or national average. When you have low income women, they don’t spend much so you need higher attendance. I adapted my hostess routine to make sure there were more guests per party. Susan wanted me to train on what I was doing.

 

1997 my first full year and the first note I got from Susan on the monthly magazine page. I was number 7 in sales out of over 20,000. She wrote "Feel Proud of your Success Doris" Powerful words, I was walking on air.

What a challenge! Susan had a healthy 6 figure income and a large productive region filled with dynamic Leaders. She was also caring and genuine. It was important to me not to disappoint her. I was nervous about standing at a podium in front of at least 150 women with pens poised. I had handouts of the document I adapted to give each hostess as a checklist, and one I created to ensure I didn’t miss a single extra step. I wasn’t doing anything special, I was just regimented. My goal was that my hostess always got $100 in free product. If I made it happen for her, I earned $100, and my happy hostess would have more parties in the future.

At the podium that day, I forgot my nervousness as I focused on the importance of what I was passing on as I spoke. Later, consultants came up to ask me more questions. The following month something magical happened, many came to thank me for helping them increase their guest count. They were sincerely happy and proud that they had done the work and it paid off. Home sales isn’t an easy business. There’s lots of rejection and though it’s hard work, you don’t get much respect for doing it. You must constantly push yourself but you can never be pushy with others. I had a warm glow for days knowing I helped others meet their goals.

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Indigo Nights With Diamonds

I remember standing by the window in the parlor looking at the evening sky in the Blue Hour. It was the winter of our first year and I loved standing in the empty room watching the colors change before my eyes. I never noticed in L.A. or San Francisco, was I too busy, too young, was it smog? What the hell was I doing in middle of nowhere Minnesotain winter on a farm, broke, bruised, tired and so damned cold. Memories that flash like photographs, still frames of my life that suddenly become a movie in my mind.

That day the snow was different, it looked like whitecaps on the ocean from the wind, the sun had warmed the top then nights froze the waves in place. There was a crust and I’d gone out to walk on it earlier, to feel it crunch and see how far I sank. God how you laughed at me,  sinking thigh deep and struggling, the stubborn woman who wouldn’t turn back. Get it while I can, enjoy what I have, this new world and life I chose with you. I’m cold and tired but I have a new world. No, we have it.

Like the nights I had off in summer and fall when the colors soften and change, the birds settle in and the world gets quiet, I waited to watch that unbroken ocean of white. There were so few nights off during the Holidays but this night I had my time and my sights, I’m a watcher and magic is free. Slowly the night turned Indigo, deep, heavy purple-blue and the world was still early, no voices, no birds, no tires on the highway. Finally the yard light came on and I saw it, the ground sparkling everywhere I looked. It was as if someone had thrown millions of diamonds across the acre of lawn. It took my breath away and I stayed standing in the dark room, I didn’t want to look away.

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Filed under Destiny, Dreams, Growth, Healing, Heart, Life Lessons, Love, relationships

Tales of Intuition

It was not unusual for me to see the future- well maybe not the future so much as the present that I didn’t have physical access to. It was March 12, 2011, late at night or early in the morning, maybe. I slept soundly in my bed and dreamed that I was on a cruise ship in the Pacific between Hawaii and Japan. My boyfriend and I were arguing in the solarium on the uppermost floor. Suddenly a gigantic tidal wave reached out of the sea, dwarfed our large cruise ship, and inevitably crashed onto its top deck.

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Art School Drop Out

Art school was everything it was expected to be; full of all the most eccentric-self-indulgent weirdos that one could handle. I tended to be more conservative in dress, aside from the glitter. I loved sparkles but I was still quieter than the general art school population. I had already gone through my goth, dark lipstick, green hair, pink hair, pot head faze in high school. Somehow, I made it to college, and now my education had a tab. I decided I would try not to waste anymore time or money. I immersed myself in the experience, eager to learn.

Most of my teachers were cool, but because of the curriculum, I was forced to take introductory courses. The assignments were very rigid and structured, and I didn’t do rigid or structured. We had one project which was based on Paint By Numbers. We had to first create an outline of our face, carefully divide it in the same way they divide topographical maps, number the various altitudes, and paint accordingly. I had to redo mine three times. I just couldn’t stay in the lines no matter how hard I tried.

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No Such Thing as Love Like in the Movies?

I have been told there is no love like in the movies. I disagree. For example, this weekend I went with my boyfriend to his family’s cabin in Vermont just over the border of Western Mass. It was a beautiful weekend, the fall leaves cascaded from the oaks and maples like delicate Chantilly drapery. Saturday afternoon, we road our mountain bikes to a summit where we had a picnic. It was perfect, he’s so sweet, he even brought my favorite, lavender champagne! To be honest, most of the weekend, we were cut off from the rest of the world holed up in the cabin’s foyer under its vaulted ceilings. It was so cozy by the roaring fireplace. The heat lit the room like a grenade in a fox hole.

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Filed under Art, Dreams, Fairy Tales, Fiction, Heart, Love

The Road Not Taken

 

Photo by Hayley Rose, 2011

I went running in the woods on the 2.5 mile loop that I love. I was hoping to reach the very sedative yet meditative state that one reaches after prolonged physical activity, but my brain was thinking overtime par usual. I decided to run the loop twice and by my fourth mile I was getting a bit fatigued as I began my battle against the steepest hill of the trail. As I began my ascent up the monster of an incline, I noticed a very inviting bench off to the side. Maybe I should sit down for just a minute…

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Filed under Dreams, Inspirational, Motivation, Poetry