Talking Heads – Seen and Not Seen

He would see faces in movies, on t.v., in magazines, and in books….
He thought that some of these faces might be right for him….and
Through the years, by keeing an ideal facial structure fixed in his
Mind….or somewhere in the back of his mind….that he might, by
Force of will, cause his face to approach those of his ideal….the
Change would be very subtle….it might take ten years or so….
Gradually his face would change its shape….a more hooked nose…
Wider, thinner lips….beady eyes….a larger forehead.

He imagined that this was an ability he shared with most other
People….they had also molded their faced according to some
Ideal….maybe they imagined that their new face would better
Suit their personality….or maybe they imagined that their
Personality would be forced to change to fit the new appear-
Ance….this is why first impressions are often correct…
Although some people might have made mistakes….they may have
Arrived at an appearance that bears no relationship to them….
They may have picked an ideal appearance based on some childish
Whim, or momentary impulse….some may have gotten half-way
There, and then changed their minds.

He wonders if he too might have made a similar mistake.

A Poem: Time to Get Healthy

I’m well aware its time to get healthy. 

How can I serve myself when I feel so filthy?

I overthink, I don’t let go – my mind is a messy clutter. 

My visions blurred, it makes me feel lost and fluttered. 

I constantly replay the scenes from my past

then I skip to now to compare and contrast. 


It does me no good to live my life this way

I’m ready to be carefree an relearn how to play. 

So I drive by myself down the lonely highway

to pick up fruit and a big fragrant bouquet. 

The flowers make me smile and I gain some headway, 

my mood starts to lighten and the grey goes away. 

It’s simple pleasures like these that make me so gay –

an easy slow drive through the mountains on a Tuesday 

that remind me I know how to climb the big stairway. 

I’m really good at closing myself off,

but its because of this that I’ve finally read Chekhov. 


I have one foot on the step, my hand is gripping the rail. 

I get real distracted and want a pale ale. 

I shake that urge, I refocus and consciously exhale. 

I need all my energy or else I might bail

and I can’t do that nor can I fail. 

I know I have a long journey ahead, 

I’m resisting the temptation to give up and be led.

So I’m finally pulling myself together

striving everyday to be a little better.


It has to be easier than I’m making it

so I’m reframing the window so I can benefit.

I’ve been learning quite a bit and still have more to go

I know its up to me how long I’m gonna row.

I have to have faith that it will happen

as I’m climbing the stairs out of the canyon

making my own pace while slaying my dragons 

working my way up so I can sit in the wind and listen to the aspen.

A Poem: How Did I Get Here?

How did I get here?

she questions inside

how did I get here

how can I hide?


She found her place

in a lonely space

full of masks and clowns

while living downtown. 


Reality was a blur

everything was grey

never had she planned 

for such a day. 


The greys turned to black

laughs turned to cries

she often thought

of ways to die. 


She was all alone

and out of touch

thinking of it 

all too much. 


How did I get here? 

She questions inside

How did I get here?

How can I hide?


She was almost depleted

nearly extinct 

as she forced herself

she was on the brink. 


It wasn’t her

it never was

but she was there

just because.

The Truth About Cats and Dogs

I just watched a movie with new eyes that I have loved since the first time I watched it over ten years ago. The Truth About Cats and Dogs is a wonderfully clever and truthful film. Granted I usually do overthink and dive into ideas head first these days, leaving little room to just laugh, with today being no exception. I wish it weren’t so, I wish I didn’t always read into what I am experiencing, but I will keep doing this until I stop. 😉 

So the beautiful blond Uma Thurman plays a very sweet, misdirected, loveable, yet dumb girl while Jeanne Garafalo plays the opposite role as the nondescript brunette with brains, wit and intellect. There is a lot of truth, I hate to say, in this very cliche casting and line of thought really. Then, oddly enough, I am relating it a little bit further that the beautiful blond is like the best friend companion who is always happy to see you and makes you feel good because they feel good to be around you. I then take the nondescript brunette as being more like the cat who is more complicated and does her own thing, finds her own amusements and develops in a completely different way. 

I have thought a lot about this idea of how one’s outward beauty dictates their life experience. I especially realized how my outward appearance – my white skin, my tall stature, my long blond hair and my blue eyes drastically impacted my experience while living in Brazil, a country with such a mix of nationalities mainly of Latin and African descent. I know that my appearance helped to shape my personality. I know that my personality shaped how I have handled and continue to handle things in life. I know that my life would be very different if I didn’t look the way that I do. Just as if I wasn’t born in America, or in 1980, or in California, or a girl. It all makes up how I am in life. 

So, with that said, I know that I cannot pinpoint exactly why I am the way I am because, like everything it seems, there are so many facets that should be considered that make up who I am, where I am and why I do the things that I do. I feel awkward with what I am about to say as I fear the perception that I am arrogant, but because I am attractive I know that I have had an advantage in my life, particularly when it comes to social aspects. Attractive people are, as I can see it, easier to socialize with, easier to deal with and just easier in most cases all around. There are the assholes and the bitches of course that value attractiveness above intelligence thus letting it all go to their head and think that everyone should worship them, but the majority are not that way. 

So, there was a part in the movie that basically said that dogs are always happy to see you and don’t say… ah… yeah, my owner has left now it is time for me to write a novel, instead they wait until the next time the owner comes back. They go to those who will pet them and aren’t selective as cats can definitely be. They are easy to please and aren’t too picky about who loves them as long as someone loves them.

Sure dogs can be complex. Sure attractive people can be complex, in fact, they usually are, but in a different way than less attractive people, I think. Am I ridiculous to even make this comparison? Maybe. But as one who has seemingly moved from one relationship to the next with other attractive people, is it fair to say that I am like a dog in that sense? How about my cat like distance that is inevitable? What about that side of it… complex… always is I guess. I guess this is why it is good to think about such comparisons. How can I ever know about someone else’s complexity when I am just trying to figure out my own though… it certainly does make me think about being more selective on who I allow to pet me.

A Poem: My Father

I just spoke with my dad. 

He has such an intelligent mind

he knows of the love one can find

he is able to see things before rather than behind. 

He chooses to do his own thing

never being forced into a ring. 

He has a heart of gold

that will never be bought nor sold. 

He has a strong moral base

he takes life case by case. 

His charm will woo anyone

yet is big enough to roll up his sleeves to things done. 

He shines as bright as the noonday’s sun

and will never shy away from fun. 

He says he’s proud and has faith in me

to take the opportunities that I can see. 

He knows I’ll choose my own path

creating my own special habitat. 

He is able to see beyond those around

yet he stays in our hometown

out in the country is where he can always be found. 

He told me I’m not lucky, that it’s been determination

that has fueled my ambition. 

He said I’ve created everything good

by being the very best that I could. 

He says I’m the one who has created my success

by believing in my growth and doing my best. 

God I love my father. 

He is unlike any other. 

A great man indeed

and always there when I need.

I am grateful to be his daughter

and that he’s my friend and my father.

A Poem: Soul Sisters

You have to know both heaven and hell

to know what to wish when throwing your penny in the well. 

It’s important to be acquainted with both sides

it will definitely help you to make the most of the ride

avoiding the empty holes and knowing when to glide. 

I do know now there are just a few in which I can confide

As of late I’ve called them soul sisters, you bet they’re bonafide. 

We, together, know whne its safe to no longer hide

You see, when you are of this special clan 

you’ll never have to worry – You’ll always have a helping hand

they are the handful that really understand

Amongst us we share our dreams and love freely

we give all we have completely. 

We love to dance and just let go

and to witness such is quite a show. 

Of women being free to be who they choose

because there’s so much more to win that to lose. 

Let’s enjoy and laugh and share great moments

Remember when in Rome, do as the Romans. 

We create our own world, full of beauty and honesty

a place that is safe for each of us to be

together we will be ourselves, natural and free!

A Poem: Sit and Think and Drink My Tea

I’m not looking for any responsibility

I’d rather find an inviting shade tree

where I can sit and think and sip my tea. 

My life is full of absurd Calamities

that drive me to think of pure insanity. 

A part of me is trying to shake my vanity 

yet I still feel happy when I doll myself pretty.

Maybe this makes me incredibly needy

One thing’s for sure, I’ll love you if you feed me. 

Feed me any way you can

by sharing your thoughts or whats in the pan. 

I like to think, I like to learn,

I like to wonder how the world turns.

A Poem: Not Good At Being Alone

I’m never good at being alone

I’m soft and pink and not made of stone

I’m very blessed that love is who I am

I’ll show it in my ways – I’ll even hold your hand

I’m not really looking for any major commitment

but I do like to create my own little playland

with the one I choose to be my special man. 

I’ll be real good until I’m done

we’ll laugh and kiss, it’ll be super fun

I’ll make you feel like you’re the only one

we’ll be drunk in love like we’ve been sippin’ rum

we’ll share the sheets, we’ll pillow talk some

we’ll sweat hot and heavy and surely we’ll come

I’ll be open and honest – I’ll hold nothing back

I’ll share everything I carry around in my backpack

my admiration, my inspiration, my open embraces

the energy we create will be seen on our faces. 

you’ll be my everything, but you must beware

I’ll try my best to handle you with care. 

I’m not good at intimate relationships

but I’ll roll the dice and raise the chips. 

They say its better to have loved and lost 

than to never have loved at all

Please remember this during the inevitable fall. 

I’ll still think highly of you as I’m leaving the room

and chances are I’ll continue until I’m in my tomb. 

So lets just share our time together while we can

enjoy the moments while we both still stand. 

I’d like to think you’ll be better off having experienced this bliss

maybe that’s bold, but it all starts with one sweet kiss

an opportunity that is so hard to resist. 

I’ll bask in your affection – You’ll get an erection

we’ll travel down an uncharted path without any direction.

A Poem: A Love Gone By

There are days that I think I’m over you

where you enter my mind just a time or two

then all of a sudden I’m hit real blue

I wish I knew what to say but I haven’t a clue. 

I miss you – I have since I left two full years ago. 

I’m trying my best to catch my own wave at my own flow. 

I’ve grown a lot since the days in my youth

you were always so much wiser and could see the truth. 

I wasn’t there yet so I pushed us both away

I did stupid things nearly every single day 

that didn’t help out in our endeavor

I look back now and can’t believe I ever

acted foolishly like a baboon

with a drink in my hand working the room. 

I was so out of touch – no wonder I couldn’t see you

in your honest and gentle ways that only you knew. 

I wish I’d have known then what I have learned up to now

I’d like to think we’d still be together folding towels. 

It seems silly that I haven’t really moved on

I’ve kept up the charade but I’m not foolin’ a one.

You said we’re like a bad Jack Johnson song

I’m sorry I’ve been so utterly wrong. 

I’ve often questioned how to teach someone who just doesn’t know, 

I still don’t know the answer other than to take it slow. 

You have patience unlike anyone I’ve ever met

and you are still the coolest person I’ve run into yet. 

So how do I recover from all of my mistakes?

I’m shedding my masks now leaving no room to hide nor fake. 

Would you want to know me as I am today?

Would you care what I think or have to say?

Have you written me off or do you remember me on a rainy day?

I love you still – You are a part of me

it’s because of you that I can finally see.

Looking up Love in the Dictionary

Love. I looked this up in the dictionary yesterday in a grey moment… I see it is up on my dashboard still… why I ask myself now, why? to find someone else’s version of how they can describe an emotion? silly. How can one accurately describe such a feeling anyway? How can we even assume that it is the same from one person to the next? It isn’t, it is totally and completely individual. What I feel when I think of love is different from situation to situation, let alone if I truly try to compare that to another person’s idea of what it means to them. It is like trying to describe a color. The other person will have their own perception of what that color means… we all see things and feel things in a different way, maybe in the same stream, but never exactly the same. So instead of looking up the dictionary version of an emotion that I hold to be confusing, beautiful and crazy, I am just going to feel it out myself and attach the meanings and value that I put onto it… whatever that fuzziness really is.