Namaste blog tribe
method too. re – mine(d).
i shot. coffee in my running veins -
kickstart morning. when evening never ends.
constant cycles of life unexplained;
encountering. places. where broken mends.
an upside down healing. when secrets blend.
intermixed thoughts replace chattering. words.
gravity pulls only galaxies send.
two stars colliding. super nova. merge.
stopping at first site. coming on command.
possessed with a gaze. perfection regained.
two names from the sky etched deep in the sand.
reality repels where truth remains.
my tunnel vision of one soul. that stays.
electric. telepathy. golden flame.
Namaste blog tribe
I’m never going to make the mistake of mentioning my partner too much, besides in the inky books I’ve been filling with love poetry.
Some things are secret. Plus considering how I lost siblings over the last time I mentioned anyone I was involved with, I am not saying a word.
That aside, my shift from Hell’s Kitchen to the Upper Whack Side was nearly seamless. Apparently the walls in a brownstone aren’t quite to the same caliber as the luxury high-rises of my midtown past. Put shortly, playing Black Sabbath at 7am on a Sunday does not make friends in residences like this.
I’ve been fishing through poetry books and thinking about stories. Last night I put on bright purple MAC lipstick with six inch heels and went to an awards night at Cipriani on Wall Street.
The endless winter has broken all sorts of freezingness records, even though it’s technically spring. Today it was mild in the park and I walked past a patch of daffodils. My apartment is actually full of fresh spring flowers, along with Vivaldi, organic produce and a closet stuffed fat with new cotton dresses for spinning around town.
New York City. I love her so.
On a scale of many-ness over the past week and change, there’s been a lot.
And you know, as much as it makes me feel slightly too grown up to actually say out loud… I might even be here more than a year.
A companion of mine and I have been having the most wonderful discussions about the absence of time and merit of space. I’ve been thinking a lot about my Writing, all of the words I keep floating about.
I’ve also been thinking of businesses and traveling and purpose and, occasionally, opera.
When I think back to beginning this blah-g journey as a broken-hearted Australian housewife, I feel somewhat melancholy. I was super angry for a few minutes, then I lost my mind (again), now I feel like myself.
My lack of attachment to physical illusions is something I take pride in. That said, had someone tried to let me know back in 2009 that not only would I get to New York City – I would plant myself in a one-bedroom, Upper West Side, brownstone – half a block from Central Park, with a private deck the size of my last apartment; I don’t reckon I’d quite get the joke.
My walk to work has shifted from a Times Square shoulder check fest to a leisurely stroll through the southern tip of the park.
Some phases seem to earn their own silent serenity. I’ve certainly never experienced one quite like the period I’m in.
I’ll probably write some poetry soon.
Dear blog family
Today’s post is dedicated to all of the feeders. I feel particularly close to our tribal members that click the feed button and dip in each time I pop around these days. Lovers who read regularly are truly part of my life. You’re there when I write something new, you’re there when I fall in love or move or get divorced (again). And while I no longer need to check in every day to talk about getting to New York City since I manifested it, I adore having all of you along for the ride.
And don’t get it twisted, there’s still a(nother) book coming.
I am on business in Bermuda at the moment. Regardless of traveling here four times a year, I’ve never explored the island. I’m brought here to Write. So that’s exactly what I spend the week doing during these excursions. I can’t lie though, I would take a 12-hour work day over winter any day of the week. The city is still bloody freezing, it’s nice to have an open window for a few mornings… before working like a crazy woman all day.
I plan to bring my lover here in April. It seems to me, that in addition to coming to New York City for all of the opportunities I’ve been blessed with – and to be in the center of one of this planet’s most perfect cultural melting pots - I came to meet him.
It makes no difference how many times my heart has been broken, how many therapy sessions men have caused me or how many dudes have married me with no intention of being a husband… I believe that love rules the world. I’ve never given up believing my twin flame exists.
French kisses to the feeders. You make me glow.