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A Wish for Heros

There was a weight on her head today, and she dropped into her lounge chair to spend the rest of the day watching movies. She starts with a favorite, Out of Africa with Robert Redford. She thinks she is dreaming but it feels real and wakes to see him—yes, Robert Redford is in her house and knelling in front of her.

“She’ll go away,” he says.

“What?”

“The lioness. She’s just curious. I will protect you.”

No, he won’t, she thinks, but she wishes for that hero—not a hero of the world, although that would be even better—just a hero of himself. Yet, there is the surge of passion for this man Denys and in her head, she sees Fitz. He wants to move his things in, but not himself. He loves her the way he loves the land—with hesitation knowing that the ground is always shifting. He wants commitment, but freedom, and it becomes the way and reason she loves him—because of that contradiction—that personal commitment to stay free when the politics of life and relationships will smother that out like an unfinished cigarette.

I’m always looking for unique gifts and that usually means customized.  Over the years I’ve done many. I love art. I love odd art. I love to write things – mostly short things – poems, flash fiction, funny sayings – so I have combined those activities. Here are a few recent ones and I am working on new ideas.  You can see more in the Shop which is not quite set up yet.

 

Ring the Bells

In dark times, poetry and music often become more important to us, providing the kind of transcendence we need to interpret painful events in a wider context. I am reminded of Leonard Cohen lately who wrote Anthem, (some like to call it Ring the Bells) one of his most beautiful and hopeful songs. Since Cohen’s death on November 7 2016, the lyrics of Anthem have resonated across the internet.  If you don’t remember him, it may be because many of his best songs were covered by many others including, I’m Your Man (Joe Cocker), Avalanche (Nick Cave, probably the best cover for Cohen’s many lyrics), or Hallelujah (best covered by Jeff Buckley), but Cohen’s gravelly voice lends itself particularly well to Anthem.  The lyrics are below.

Leaking Energy

Excerpt from book 1:  The Excalibur Nightclub was contained in a giant Gothic graystone guarded by winged gargoyles over the door. In the basement of the building, reached via a treacherous spiral staircase, there is a hole into the earth. Hidden from club party goers, it sits under a wooden floor and appears to be an old well—but some claim it is a gateway to hell. Long before the space became the Club, before the recording studio, the publishing house, and another celebrity-owned nightclub, it was the home of the Chicago Historical Society built in 1892. That was the beginning of the stories that told of ghosts and demons in and around the property. Unverified claims said that originally a decommissioned slaughterhouse stood on the site and that the well was never meant to be filled with water, but with blood.

Fitz laughed, “I already know you don’t scare easily but I have a fascination with the dark side—vampires, ghosts, bigfoot. All I know is that some very well-adjusted people claim to get pushed around by ghosts here and claim to see faces in the walls … and since we are here in Chicago…”

She couldn’t stop herself from moving closer to him. Although someone had nudged her from behind to get closer to the bar, she obliged and pushed into Fitz’s chest and kissed him sweetly on the mouth.

I Always Wanted A Loft in NYC

My studio is not exactly the New York City artist’s loft I always wanted. There is a part of me that wanted to be a true bohemian artist—THAT person—the one who lives and acts by a different set of conventional rules.  I didn’t so now I am writing about it.

My loft would not be just about art; it would be a collection of all my thoughts and loves. Books everywhere—particularly old books. Maybe I would also be a book collector and dealer like Paul Martel in the movie Unfaithful with Diane Lane.