Sunday Blues

My day began at noon. I ventured out into the world to buy herbs at the local farmer’s market. Publix soon saw me purchasing meat and pasta. Once I returned home, leftovers were warmed for lunch. That is when I felt the crown that cost me approximately $200.00 pop out of place. My fingers reached into my mouth, and placed it on the table where it still sits, courtesy of P.F. Changs. Disappointment washed over me as the recent dental procedures replayed themselves in my mind. My saving grace was that my permanent crown would arrive on Sept 1st. Until then, perhaps a liquid diet would be in order.
As I thought about attending a gathering, the idea of being with people began to frighten me. Would I have to talk to people? How long would I stay? Upon selecting my lovely white skirt as my attire, mother nature let me know that I wasn’t pregnant and a spot of bright red blood splattered on the fabric. After throwing my clothes into the sink to soak, I emailed the hostess and explained that my issues were too much for me to be social today. Did anything go right today? Well, sort of.
Ever since my presence has returned from NYC, it is all that I can think about. How will NYC see me again? Is there a festival or reason for me to be there? My interests are divinely feminine and artistically driven. Surely, there is a purpose for me in NY. It appears in my FB newsfeed every day, and other signs point to my desire to walk up and down the streets of that energetic city that never sleeps. There is so much that I have yet to see and experience. There is always a cafe just around the corner where a great cup of coffee can be experienced. The different cultures just line up one after the other. My mind, my spirit…we want to go back. Soon. A potential love interest also happens to be visiting there as this post is typed.
The second glass of wine is slowly taking and there is a journal and bowl of popcorn that both require my attention….

Follow Your Gut

It was the so called “sweet” sixteen year of my life. A new youth pastor came to the church where I was a musician. Upon arrival, he proceeded to contact all of the teenage girls after 10pm via phone. Let me also mention that none of the boys were contacted. Once this was brought to the attention of the pastor’s wife, he was promptly briefed on proper interactions with his young flock. Upon sight, I did not care for this individual. My father could not stand him and made that known to my mother who insisted that I give him a chance.
One Sunday morning after service, I made my way to the bathroom. Unfortunately, I saw the youth pastor on the way. My feet took me through an alternative route into the kitchen. All of a sudden, the door slammed behind me and he was standing there staring at me. He said that if he did not know better, he would think that I was trying to avoid him. A nervous smile crossed my face as I escaped through the opposite door. When I went home, I told my father what happened. He furiously explained to my mother that she would take care of the situation that same day or else neither of us would return to the church. She called the pastor’s wife again. The youth pastor was married within weeks and soon vanished. Never to be heard from again.

The Snake

It was many years ago. Perhaps I was still in my twenties. My single status reigned supreme. An older gentleman had taken an interest after seeing me at church service where he was speaking. As a former pastor, he still toured the church circuit. I agreed to meet him for dinner after work late one evening. It was an experience that is a testament to intuition which is why I am choosing to share it.
Denny’s was the chosen destination in Bal Harbor. The hotel where he was staying was only moments away. Upon arriving, we picked a booth and settled in. As the conversation began, he quickly took charge of the flow and dove right in. He wanted to cut to the chase with, “….this will be a relationship between us”. I did not understand what that meant because I thought all relationships were between two people. He continued to insist that we go elsewhere and talk after dinner. It was already very late and I had work in the morning. He responded that he had to get up at 4:30am. Needless to say, any chance that he may have had to get to know me was dwindling by the second as I felt cold at the sight of him. He mannerisms were simply bitter and his ease at hugging me mid conversation caused me to announce that I was leaving. The only reason why I chose to stay was that I honestly believed that he would follow me to my car, and it was dark outside. It would be better for me to remain inside the restaurant where other people were around.
While driving home, I felt like this individual was selecting condoms right there at the table in front of me. Maybe he thought that I would simply throw myself at him because he had money, and I was young. He continued to call me for days at a time until he realized that his unanswered calls meant that he had failed miserably. The presence of this man began to threaten me was the evening wore on, and I knew that if I had any more dealings with him, my fate would be tragic. The cold feelings and lack of understanding of his requests were all signs that there was a discord that was pushing me away. It was not for me to fight but for me to listen. As I type this, I wish that I could teach young women to follow their intuition. In many cases, it is the only thing that will save them.

Dental Disaster

The sight of the tiny elevator sent me to the stairs. Into the office I wandered. Once I settled into the chair, the dentist came to talk to me. The numbing process began. Three shots later, it had not taken to his liking. The gums were given an extra dosage as a precaution, and he proceeded with care. The chair held me for what was at least an hour. My body shook without my consent. He continued to check on me as the nerves had gotten the best of me. I just wanted him to finish. Between the sight and sounds of the tools, the process was entirely too much for me. The comedy on the virtual television was an attempt at a proper distraction. I thought about my father. I thought about a new friend. The chair continued to hold me, and he continued to work.
Throughout the procedure, there were random spurts of sensations that should not be experienced by anyone. Apparently, the tissues in the tooth were extremely inflamed and there were four roots; the man had work to do. When the chair finally released me, thoughts of passing out from my first wisdom tooth resurfaced. I moved slowly to make certain that I was okay. There were directions for medication, and a follow up appointment in addition to the crown that the referring dentist would have to do. Yes, there is more torture.
The prescription was filled immediately, and I went home. Lunch is not an option, and the folding of clothes seemed reasonable enough. My mother was MIA….again. There was no one to share my experience with. The schedule shall pick up later this evening as a performance and poetry show will keep me busy. A friend shall join me to enjoy the animate prose. This is not an experience that I would wish upon anybody.

Facebook: A Happy Moment

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There I was in a nervous bubble all by my lonesome. The time for my consult about my upcoming root canal was upon me. It went well enough. The doctor was kind and explained everything in an easy manner. The office was quiet and empty much to my liking; however, the office manager seemed as if she was about to open a major can of worms with another office on the phone. She was requesting a supervisor. My card was swiped with the heavy co-pay, and I waltzed off to my car. The procedure was set for early Friday morning on sunny Miami Beach.
As I boarded the elevator, I checked Facebook and sow the most amazing thing posted on my timeline. A huge smile consumed my face. Another passenger boarded and mentioned how happy I looked. I shared the post with her, and she commented how social media should be used in this manner all of the time. It simply made my day. My fears about the visit simply vanished as thoughts of sisterhood and support entered my mind. The timing of the post couldn’t not have arrived at a better time.
Even when we think that we are all alone, we are not. Someone is thinking about you in a good light. Others yet appreciate your presence. Why there are some people that simply relish in hearing the sound of your voice. It is an amazing thing to be connected to other people. It enriches life and makes those uneasy moments a little less uneasy….

My Agenda

11796279_10153562253777229_424184383991618235_n People always have the next great idea or project for you to do. You have the absolute pleasure of paying money in exchange for a service that will help you but will also propel the agenda of another into outer space. This is the way of the world. This is why the following meme is so popular on Facebook: You can spend time building your own dream, or you will spend time working on someone else’s. You are probably familiar with this scenario if you work for a large corporation or even a smaller organization. You have to put your foot down and some point in order to get your own ideas on the list. This is how I feel. If it is not in alignment with what I want to do for myself, then I do not want to invest my time, energy, emotions, or money into it.
This was not always the space in which I lived. There was a time when I simply went with the waves. Whatever came my way was just fine. If it didn’t arrive, well it was not meant to be. It was probably around 2010 when all of that changed. It was no longer acceptable for me to only wear the underwear from Victoria’s Secret. Why couldn’t I wear underwear with my stage name on the back? I pay VS $30.00 a pair for the “honor” of promoting their brand. Why wouldn’t I do the same for myself? Fast forward to present day.
Since the small steps were taken to develop my musical brand, I have seen myself in a new light. There is more on the table for me to offer. Workshops are a possibility for me because I like to facilitate thought provoking discussion. Critical thinking is important to me and a lot of other people. Combinations of elements are possible in order for me to deliver a complete healing package. Clients benefit from this and even tell me themselves how much they appreciate the streamlining. Why would I want to sit back and simply relax awaiting the next wedding? There are collaborations to plan and endeavors to pursue.
For one thing, I feel as if I have a lot to share. My experiences should not be kept to myself for entertainment purposes. I think that others would benefit from what I have lived and vice versa. It is important to provide others with their own vehicle to express themselves. Everyone has a talent that can be cultivated into a unique offering. Naturally, I awoke with a devilish idea this morning and am currently thinking of an appropriate venue. Wish me luck….

Vive La France

There are private experiences that a girl has that she never tells anyone. There are other private experiences that a girl has that are too good to keep to herself. This will be one of those posts…….
It was the Spring of 2010. Bellydance had given way to the scandalous world of pole. New sights and sounds were captivating me and a new lifestyle held me in its arms. Hip scarves, coins, and glitter, had been traded in for heels, skin, and lots of naughtiness. It was great and exactly what a repressed Lady needed to allow the abundance of her sacral chakra to manifest. That is my attempt at being subtle. Allow me to be direct: pole turned me into a Lady on the prowl.
Easter Sunday was when I received the call. An artist friend wanted me to assist him with a project. He wanted to created a brotherhood circle with a new artist in town from France. He wanted people to be able to go back and forth between the two galleries and enjoy culture: art, music, dance, food, wine. Life at its finest. Within days, I visited his gallery to get a feel for the entertainment space. I was soon taken to the gallery of the visiting artist from France.
The meeting must have caused quite a sensation amongst sensitive people. My friend told me prior to entering the gallery that I should do something that called upon Egypt of yesteryear. As my feet carried me into the all white gallery, my eyes turned to the left and there was a painting of a harpist in the court of a pharaoh. What are the chances….
After admiring the artwork, I followed the sounds of Creole and French. Apparently, the artists were having a conversation. As my eyes took in the sight of the gorgeous piece of chocolate from France, strange things began to happen. Lots of blinking was necessary because a large white light was surrounding him. I felt calm and happy at the same time. We did not exchange a lot of words because neither of us knew what to say. I had to step away for a moment to take in everything that had transpired. Who was this gorgeous foreigner and how did I end up in his presence? I was the person that was going to arrange the entertainment between both galleries?! How did I get this lucky. He immediately invited me to have a drink with him. All of us ended up in the previous gallery dancing and making general merriment well into the night. It was official. The art world had swallowed me whole.
Gallery night soon appeared. One by one all of the dancers that had been confirmed vanished for one reason or another. The entire performance segment fell onto my shoulders. With my cd in tow, I danced to my own music. It was a surreal experience for me. It was a lovely evening. People gazed upon the art with sheer admiration. Wine was poured and laughter was everywhere. As my night came to a close, I found myself in the arms of the handsome Frenchman who had captivated my attention only days before.
It was necessary for me to go home as a pole class was on my schedule for the next day. I packed the harp and left.
The next day, the handsome Frenchman invited me to visit him at his gallery. I politely declined because of pole class when it hit me. There was a very strong attraction happening between us. He was leaving for France in a matter of days, and I probably would never see him again. It would be okay for me to visit him for a nice friendly chat. Perhaps he woulds serve tea and crumpets. I decided to stop by his gallery prior to pole class in the Grove.
My hair was perfect. My outfit was also quite nice. I waltzed up to the gallery and knocked on the door. He unlocked it and allowed me to enter. I asked him if we were alone. He responded yes. There was not a lot of conversation after that. All I can say is that for the next three days, we were inseparable. Before he boarded the plane to return to France, he thanked me for a wonderful visit. I thanked him for the memory of a lifetime. This is the reason that I will always have a special place in my heart for the country of France.

Harpitation is in Hell

Upon hearing that there was an issue with the cd that I released, I immediately popped the finished product into the player. After hearing it, I went home and sat down. It was an attempt not to break into tears. It was a huge effort on my part to go through the process of recording for at least an hour. All of the songs were composed on the spot. There were interruptions. There was heat. There was scheduling. I went through all of the trials and tribulations to have a finished piece of myself to share with people. Well, my playing sounds wonderful. The side noises make for another story altogether. After falling asleep with this on my mind, 4:50am found me popping up with the word CD on my mind. An immediate recall was initiated, and my promotional performances have been canceled. I feel like a complete failure.
An email has been sent to a studio regarding the predicament as my heart sinks to the floor. All sorts of questions flood my mind. Why did this happen? There was time set aside for me to dedicate to this project while the schedule was fair. The creations flowed smoothly. Now, here I am still dealing with its development when I thought that I would be dealing with its fanfare. Life is filled with obstacles. Perhaps I should return to the beach.