Dreams Are Real 023: The Next Chapter

This Saturday will be the last time I read from my memoir, Blood and Pudding publicly unless in conjunction with the Needle Exchange. Jess Tilley, the Overdose Prevention Coordinator and I will be working hand in hand on getting the Needle Exchange into the public eye, and informing people of the benefits of having a harm reduction center in their area.

This is a decision I made recently.  When the book came out in August I was eager to tell Holly and Brian's stories.  I felt like I owed them that.  They had enriched my life so much and I missed them so dearly that it consumed me.  They were my muses and I was okay with it.  But as time went on that feeling began to shift.  It started with a conversation I had with Chelsea G. Summers.  She was editing my piece for Red Umbrella Diaries.  I had been having trouble vocalizing what exactly I was trying to say and needed an outside opinion.  Not only did she do a bang up job editing it, she also gave me some sage advice.  What started out as constructive criticism turned into an epiphany.  Chelsea simply explained to me that I write about the past almost entirely and rarely about the present.  I talk in code and while it can be intriguing to have a little mystery in writing, too much just adds up to gaps and questions.  It was true.  I was still acting as if this was a secret journal that someone was going to break into and read.  I was still completely guarded and not ready to let go of the past, which was why it was so hard to talk about the present.  This scared me.  While it's nice to reminisce, you can't live with ghosts and say it's the future. I needed to move on.

The picture above was taken two years ago during a period where my world with Brian and my relationship with the drummer were colliding.  The drummer was dealing with the death of his fiancée, and I was forced to deal with Brian's death again.  I fell in love with the drummer while he mourned her. The picture was taken in the midst of that.  I wore the dress when Brian and I took the car ride that could have killed us, and I wore it again while I fell deeply for a man that couldn't love me back.  I harbored a lot of resentment for the drummer, and even more so for myself, for letting the situation happen.  But there were a lot of losses that happened between us, to us. We were brought together by death and in the end divided by it as well.  In the long-run I'm really not sure we could have made it anyway. 

I recently wore the dress and vintage looking lace shawl to a networking party in the city.  Under the shadow of the dim lighted bar, I told Travis the story of the dress. We sat down on the velveteen seats and talked about our work and where it was going.  "I've been inspired by Cynthia von Buhler's idea to take a year off to create an entire new body of work.  My life is changing once again.  It's becoming more of what I envisioned for myself."  Our work as artists changes with us.  Sometimes the style changes and sometimes the content shifts where our style stays the same.  We go through phases and shifts.  Our muses change over the years. Some things taken on different meanings as time passes.  The dress used to symbolize my past with Brian, then it shifted into a darker more magical time, where the aphotic essence of the drummer, fired up my passion and played muse to my creativity.  And now it's propelled into a new role.  A role of decadence, and winter parties, boas, and absinthe.  It's a symbol of bohemia at it's best, nights making magic, tarot readings, writing, photography, and painting.  It represents becoming exactly who and what you want to be.

Last Saturday in the dressing room of The Red Lotus Room, Amber and I discussed the edelweiss flower as we dressed for Dr. Sketchy's.  The edelweiss symbolizes courage and noble purity in Austria. If someone were to give you a edelweiss as a gift, he risked a lot to show you his affection.  The edelweiss grows sparsely at the top of mountains and is illegal to pick. I see it as a symbol of being a self-made through hard work.

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