affair

September 13, 2008 at 12:24 pm (beauty, friendship, history, longing, sexuality)

i feel like having an affair.  a passionate, secret fling.  i want to kiss someone whose kisses make me dizzy and soft.

the thing is, there is no one around to have an affair with…

i’m also not interested in getting a divorce or creating (more) disharmony with my spouse.

i tend to be the kind of woman who can tolerate intense amounts of sexual interest and attraction without giving in.  i am a portrait of restraint.  i can’t tell you how many times i said no to opportunity…mostly by pretending there was none.

i just want to feel awake again.  i want to feel my body come to life and i want the newness of a new lover.  i want something rousing and gripping and stirring to pour myself into.

i dreamt about an old lover last night.  we were kissing and melting and riding the bus all over town.  the thing is, that particular lover was not one of my favorites.  we were friends who slept together during a time when we were both angry and hurt about the failure of other, more important relationships.

we’ve managed to stay in touch loosely and though our love was not a great, soul shaking experience, there remains a tenderness and a longing.  i think we both felt like we met up at the wrong time and valued each other despite the awkwardness of our pairing.

the last time i saw him, he was living with his future wife.  we met up for drinks with some of the other boys we used to know.  i was wearing a hat and i remember in one sweet moment he asked if i’d take the hat off.  i had beautiful hair then, before it got wiry and silver streaked…

i was shocked by the request because it told me something about him.  he was still holding me in a special place of beauty in his heart.  our friends shuffled awkwardly (it was as if they knew this man was still carrying a torch for me to my own surprise and slight discomfort).  i pulled the hat off and felt sorry knowing that my shiny, wavy locks weren’t as pretty in that moment as they had the potential to be, or as they once were.

that was it.  we drove down to the beach in the dark and ran around before the boys deposited me back at the place i was staying.  there might have been an opportunity for more that night.  in fact, looking back there were many opportunities for more with this particular guy, but always i held the space of NO.

now i wonder why i’ve always been such a naysayer when it comes to sex.  it’s not that i don’t enjoy it.

don’t worry…i’m not going to have an affair.  for one thing there’s no one around and for another, it goes against my sense of what’s right and noble.

but still, i find myself daydreaming about it and this man in particular…

i wonder if he dreams about me too, with the long mane that was once my crowing glory.  if he does it may be because i stopped it and refused to indulge.  after all those are the ones i still think of the most.  the ones i didn’t have.

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retreat in the woods

March 22, 2008 at 9:25 pm (beauty, history, innocence, longing, simplicity)

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i don’t know what it is about this painting…

it reminds me of places i visited as a child. my grandmother had a small cabin in the woods by a river. i used to love to visit her there. the smell of the mountain air so fresh and crisp, and the smell of her big fluffy quilts packed away in the winter.

i was scared to sleep there. it was very dark at night and i could here the hum of the generator, tucked into bed with one of my brothers and a small dog.

my family sold the land when i was still small. i remember how depressed my father was and find myself wondering why they did it. i think my mother wanted some spending money.

now with my own children i find myself pining over that little cabin. it would be so wonderful to have a place like that to retreat to. i would love to take the kids up to the mountains to pick wild flowers and wade in the ice cold river.

i think my parents are so foolish to have cast off such beauty without thought for the future. it’s one of many things i grieve more intensely as i age.

lately i wonder if i’m one of those people who’s going to be marked with bitterness over choices i made, how casually i passed on opportunities to be bigger and better.  will i carry a dark heart forever when i think of my family and the squandered legacy?

it could be that i’m tired as anyone with small children tends to be. the state of our country is so depressing right now. i look for a place to retreat to and find nothing. i’ve been following the election, hoping that maybe someone can get in there and make this place better. the whole thing is so ugly, i can’t look anymore.

did i mention i grew up in a very political family? it left me with a terrible attitude about the whole dirty business. children who are pushed to adult matters sometimes get turned off for a long time. others take on the family business. i guess i’m coming back into involvement slowly.

nature seems the place of purity, far from the manipulations of men. now when i go to nature, i stay in uncomfortable hotels, trying to relax and remember why i came.

oh for a little cabin in the woods!  maybe more than the cabin, i’m longing for a purity of heart, the belief that people are good and there is enough for all of us.

someday, i’ll make my fortune and the first thing i’m going to do is find my little retreat…humble and sweet, a tiny patch of heaven in the middle of nowhere.  that’s my bliss.

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married to my lovey

March 7, 2008 at 1:50 pm (history, love, mystery)

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i never wanted to get married. it just wasn’t part of the plan. i met my husband right after 9/11 and for some reason i felt open to the idea for the first time. i was getting older and in some ways was in a bit of a rut.

within a week i knew we were going to get married. it was the weirdest thing.

he’s not like the other boys…he was immediately honest and open about his feelings. he let me know he was attracted to me. i had been used to chasing the impossible and his frank approach was refreshing and some what discombobulating.

he was a little better looking than most of my lads. strong and fit, though we’ve both gotten a little softer since…

the truth is, i’m not the best wife. i have wild mood swings and a terrible temper. i push him to be bigger and better and it’s not always nice. i’m so busy fighting to keep my family safe that i forget the poor guy.

i want him to be the king but he often plays the knave around here.

this is as close to a love letter as i can get, not being much for romantic sentiment outside my rich interior world.

here’s to you lovey.

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the legacy

February 28, 2008 at 1:51 pm (beauty, history, longing, wealth)

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when i was a young girl, my grandparents owned a lovely old, adobe home in the hondo valley. over the years, they expanded on the house and it became very, very lush. it was beautiful beyond belief, not just the house and furnishings, the incredible hondo valley.

visiting this magical place was a treat for my brothers and i. there were lavish parties and gifts galore. it was the height my grandparent’s wealth and success. still it was lonely. there was nothing to do there but play outside which was more rewarding for my brothers who liked to fish and hunt.

at some point, my grandfather who fancied himself some kind of modern, american king, imported peacocks to roam the property. in my memory, i still hear their aching calls and see them in languid pose. i used to roam around looking for discarded feathers, the beautiful blue and green eyes were treasured. as an adult, i learned that the peacocks were picked off by coyotes one by one. their lives were difficult in the valley. the importing of peacocks had been vain and unrealistic.

my grandfather passed away about 6 weeks ago. though he lived a long and by all accounts a good life, i find myself feeling a mixture of feelings about him.

he was the kind of person that could sit with you calmly, seemingly relaxed but a million miles away. his mind was racing, racing, racing. i often felt invisible around him. he half-payed attention.

he was selfish, creating an empire and letting it crumble to nothing. if only he had told us all not to expect anything. instead, my mother and her siblings are riddled with depression and a seeming lack of direction. their expectations of inherited wealth clipped their wings and kept them in competition for the great patriarch’s approval.

the hondo valley house was sold long ago to pay off the mountain of debt that had accumulated. i dream of it often. the lovely, crystal blue swimming pool that i can never get to. that pool seems to be symbolic of the abundance and magic my grandfather created and destroyed all in the course of one life.

i loved him and i see my tendency to be like him when my mind is racing, racing, racing…always working out ways to make my business stronger.

i have no hope (or desire) of recapturing the level of his creation, but i do want the beauty he was so fortunate to experience. the beautiful lines of an old adobe, the green lushness of a fertile valley in the desert, peacocks drifting across the lawn.

hopefully in the version i create, the coyotes will be kept safely at bay.

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the pirate ship

February 23, 2008 at 11:29 pm (archetype, friendship, history, sexuality)

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i lived in a house full of beautiful boys a long time ago. they were rebellious and rowdy and drunk. i played with them and bore the brunt of their frustrations. it was uncanny how many of these boys had pirate flags. the jolly roger hung from windows and walls at every turn.

when the sun dropped and the sky darkened, that house with big windows felt like a ship rocking on the water. we were drifting on the sea, waiting for a ship of riches to come along to pillage and destroy.

the boys didn’t frighten me. i grew up with rough and tumble brothers.

i thought of the boys as brothers. i wanted to be one of them with the rights and privileges young, handsome men have. i thought they saw me as one of them, thought they saw past the obviousness of my femininity and sexuality.

they didn’t.

my lover at the time was threatened by the pirates. he wasn’t one of them, could never be one of them. he didn’t want me getting drunk with them. it puzzled me that he felt threatened. these were my friends after all, though deep in my heart, there was lust for some.

i unknowingly toyed with them. i flirted mercilessly, all the while denying it.

how could i help it? they were beautiful and i had them all to myself.

those boys chased me, teased me, adored and spurned me. by the end of our time together i was a howling, wounded mess. abandoned by my lover, i had no protection.

though i knew they didn’t want to hurt me, they were often mean when intoxicated. they turned on me more than once, channeling their frustrations with women onto me. we brushed against some blurry lines.

IT WAS FANTASTIC.

years later i know where most of them are.

one, dear to my heart, (the catalyst that drove the lover away) came to my wedding and ate supper with my new husband and i. it flattered me deeply when he said to my new mate, “she had this energy…and everyone wanted to be a part of it.”

it was just me, wanting to be a pirate with the rest of the boys.

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death of sardanapalus

February 18, 2008 at 2:35 pm (destruction, history, innocence, power, sexuality)

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my family had a book of delacroix paintings when we were growing up. i remember being fascinated by this particular painting. i felt naughty looking at it for it hinted of things i didn’t understand…sexuality, the power of men over women, violence…

i couldn’t understand how the man in the bed seemed serene amidst the carnage. the women, so helpless, what had they done to deserve this?

it turns out, sardanapalus was under siege and when he knew defeat was inevitable, he ordered all his riches (including his women) destroyed. still, it puzzles me that he is so relaxed watching such horror unfold. imagine my confusion as a child!

as a young girl, i keenly felt the disparity between men and women. my brothers had masculine chores like taking out the trash and working on the yard. i was relegated to dishes and housework. i protested as soon as i was able. my family was politically liberal but my protests fell on deaf ears.

as a young woman, it bothered me that boys could behave a certain way and be cheered and encouraged. when i tried to pioneer, i felt resistance and sometimes even shame for being so bold.

i resented the physical vulnerability of being female and resented the attention that came from being pretty and charming. it took years for me to grow into my power. even now, i have moments of fear about being attacked, physically and or/psychically. i worry on behalf of my daughter, knowing that just being female means being a target of certain crimes and injustice.

it’s no wonder that for many years i distanced myself from anything too feminine. it just wasn’t safe.

is it safe now?

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friend, so far

January 21, 2008 at 8:03 pm (friendship, history, mothering, wealth)

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my best friend lives far away. we talk on the phone once in a blue moon. the thread of our conversations pick up right where they were dropped as if no time has passed.

i miss her.

i wish we could raise our children together…create a modern commune of parenting and life. it’s tough to be out here on my own, no family worth mentioning.

she and i have a lot in common. both raised in affluent homes, both chose to strike out and live a life of adventure, both married to men of heart with little to no resources.

my mother used to say that the last, unspoken american prejudice was against the rich. i thought it was silly to complain of being so fortunate. now i see how this prejudice has shaped my choices. i felt self-conscious about our wealth, our home, the excess of it all. i felt a keen sense of injustice for those who had less. i never wanted to be identified with fur coats and fancy cars. i never felt comfortable fraternizing with the upper crust.

my friend feels the same though now, both of us with children, we lament the lack of security.

still we live rich lives. in my case, there is a richness to my struggle. if i had chosen to marry for money, to stay true to my upper class upbringing, i fear i would be floundering around trying to find meaning. i would be drinking heavily for sure and fighting the rage of another lunch date to discuss my most recent european holiday.

instead, i’m fighting the rage of seeing a culture out of balance, the inequities horrifying and dangerous. fighting to build the security my family needs with my own two hands and a mind that was idle too long. i feel grateful for the opportunity to discover my own creativity and strength now that the promise of inherited wealth is gone.

i continue to count my blessings for i am so very, very fortunate.

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witch

January 13, 2008 at 5:08 am (archetype, destruction, history, magic, power)

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when i was a young woman, i wanted to be a witch. i was desperately searching for an archetype that represented force, magic and mystery. the witch fit the bill for awhile. i bought books, burned candles and incense. i payed close attention to the cycles of the moon in order to capitalize on available power.

i learned a few simple spells, always to do with love. though i knew it was wrong to manipulate, i tried anyway. the last spell i cast was one of my own making. it involved fire and the burning of many names. it wasn’t just for me, it involved friends and associates.

looking back, my arrogance and innocence astounds me.

at the time, i was in love with a man i considered my soul mate. i wrote our names on a piece of paper and burned it, hoping to set us both free to love each other more deeply.

within a week, he slept with a girl from his past and i ended up in bed with one of his friends. in two days i went to the darkest space of hell i’d ever imagined. it was as if i had been tossed into a bottomless pit of pain.

all around me, established relationships crumbled and changed. everyone i had involved in the spell seemed out of control and crazy. affairs were exposed and people swapped partners. it was as if we were all trapped in a snowglobe; shaken, chaotic, blurry and COLD.

i never cast a spell again.

my lover moved on after we half-heartedly tried to put ourselves back together. i knew it was over when i saw him after a short trip and felt my heart sink into my stomach. we’re still in touch, for the love was great and powerful but i can now see that my spell accelerated a process that had to unfold. he was never meant to be mine.

the witch still haunts me but i manage to keep her at bay. my capacity for destruction is just too tempting to play with.

i feel a new archetype taking shape, but she remains unnamed…no longer a maiden, certainly a mother, moving towards crone…

and always a fallen woman.

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the missed kiss

January 5, 2008 at 9:01 pm (destruction, history, longing, passion, reflection)

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a friend of mine sent me an article about a boy i used to know. now he’s a man and a successful one. the article had a picture of him in the bathroom with his wife and two children. one babe was in the bath, the other on his lap.

this boy, i had a mad crush on. the first time i saw him, i looked up and he was staring at me intently. Then he gave me a big, beautiful smile and i felt a shock of energy go through my body. it was intense and unfamiliar. i remember scowling at him which has always been a natural reaction when something surprising happens in my world.

that little shock of energy was like a mad seed that burrowed down inside me and started to grow. i found myself suddenly shy and unable to glance his way. i liked to look at him when he wasn’t paying attention. he was a very handsome boy…much too handsome for me. i’ve always liked my men less than pretty.

fate kept throwing us together. we had similar interests and crossed paths often. as other boys came in and out of my life, i learned to relax more with this one. we met to study and chat, though it became quickly clear to me that if he really knew me, knew the details of my life, that he would disapprove. i was out of control at the time, a charming mess.

the real shock came when i realized he had a mad crush on me as well. i felt an absolute sense of dread. my heart turned cold. i was slightly rude and quietly mocked his attempts to seduce me.

i don’t know why.

he hung in there, but the more favor he showed me the more i pulled away. in time he ended up with a girl who was heartbreakingly beautiful. i felt justified for i knew i wasn’t the right girl for him…too wild, too rough, too abusive toward myself and anyone who chose to care for me.

still, i wondered what it would have been like to kiss him.

the more time passes, the more i miss the kiss.

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across the tracks

January 3, 2008 at 11:58 pm (destruction, exploration, history, mystique, passion)

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the phrase fallen woman implies there’s been some bad behavior somewhere in the past that is almost impossible to recover from. in my case, i’m only a fallen woman in my inner world. there could very well be some people out there who view me as morally corrupt, but if there are, they aren’t brave enough to tell me.

i spent some time in new orleans at one point. it was a time of exploration and play. i knew it was temporary which allowed me to push the boundaries. i was obsessed with the wrong guy, stayed up late drinking every night and felt very, very charged up.

i loved it and it took me a long time to come back from the story i created and lived there. it was one of the most beautiful and wretched time periods of my life. i behaved badly and relished it. i gave myself permission to do whatever i wanted, letting my own demons take flight. i watched in fascination as i transformed from wall flower to hot house flower.

i still dream of the city; steamy, dark and fecund. i’m trying to cross the train tracks to get to my favorite 9th ward bar, but for some reason i can never get across. either there’s a train literally blocking me or there are distractions before i even get to the tracks.

always trying to get to the other side of the tracks…the dark, primal side of life where our desires run rampant and there’s no restraint.

sometimes in my clean incarnation here and now, i miss the sweaty heaven of my 9th ward madness.

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