Tag Archives: Heart Happy

Roots and Wings

earth-angel

Roots and Wings

God isn’t looking for me

That’s okay

He’s busy

Lots of heartache going on

Too much trouble all around

People don’t see people can’t see people don’t wanna see people

My god have you seen the news?

I can’t believe what’s going on

Ain’t new ain’t nothing but old news

Still it’s an awful lot of hurt to swallow and go down

I’m no better

Than you and you and him and her and us

God can’t keep up with what’s happening

Best mind my business and do some digging

Get to the bottom of this

I’m going to lay down roots earth angels will do the rest

Carry the wings

When your troubles feel too heavy never you mind

He gave us roots and wings

Work your garden pull turn the soil wipe the sweat from your brow

God isn’t looking for me

But I’m looking for him

Feels good

To know something beautiful grows

Deep

Where you can’t see it

You know it’s there you feel

Something grows

Beautiful

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Every Little Thing Matters

story-of-your-life

For those of you that don’t know me and most don’t, I led a privileged life for many, many years. Traveled to exotic locales on somebody else’s dime lived in Paris, Milan, London, Barcelona, Madrid, Cape Town, Miami, Hollywood, NYC… I was a fashion model who earned a living with her looks.

The bizarre, crazy existence was the difficult lifestyle to explain. It was a job with bonanza benefits. I never took myself too seriously.

When my fashion career was over I had to reinvent myself. Makeup artist, why not? Started at ten bucks an hour and worked my way up counting Mariah Carey, Anne Hathaway, Sandra Bernhard, Connie Britton as clients. I had connections, and lots of help. Again, I didn’t take myself seriously. I knew how to coddle the celebs, after all I’d been on the their side for years.

My spirit was unsatisfied, intuition nagged this wasn’t it. This wasn’t what your supposed to be doing.

I can’t say the precise second, the exact hour my mind blew. It was a rapid, out of nowhere burn.

When something serious happens to your health something so surreal and uncertain you dig, claw, and dig deeper. You fight. There’s a cosmic shift. Something changes in your core on a molecular level.

Nothing is ever trivial again, coasting is not allowed and everything about you feels strange. You’re different.

I found my way back, returned to my old life. It was fine for a time. Mediocre, but fine. The next break would not let me be the drifter, laid back traveler, not this time. Nope, I had to work hard. This time, I was the paradigm shell.

I had to shed the old, and let her go.

Brutal leaving your identity, friends, city, what you know, the familiar, your favorite pizza joint behind. It can be brutal or it can be something different.

It didn’t matter, I learned. I understood other stuff mattered more; family, well-being, sanity, gardening, solitude, writing, walking the dog. Basics became survival tools.

The voices nagged. You better get your shit together. Don’t fuck up. You’ve got one chance to do something good, something beautiful, something true, something with purpose.

I have always been a writer. It’s my DNA, in my marrow, my blood, my heart and my brain.

The words have always been there.

I wasn’t listening. I just wasn’t listening to them.

A book signing at the Landmark Gala during Syracuse Fashion Week is my life come demi-circle.

The irony is not lost on me.

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The Vast Landscape follows the “brash, vulnerable, raw Harrison in pursuit of ‘movie star’ dreams navigating her way through the painful and the beautiful. It is more than just an incredible love-story.”

Most days life kicks you in the ass and you do your best to manage.

Sometimes, indigo sky sunshine and karma throws flecks of silver star-dust your way.

When you lead from the heart, those are the best days.

Every little thing matters.

You can’t know when the stardust might shine.

I’m prettier today, inside out.

Jackie Cioffa's Article

“When writing the story of your life, don’t let anyone else hold the pen.” Harley Davidson

Unknown

I am not hate.

I have to remind myself to walk away from the hate multiple times a day when frustration gets too heavy, life bears down too hard.

Living is torture even when one is ridiculously happy.

Living consumed by hate, the ugliest impossibility.

The sun is a billion years dead and gone, yet she shines so warm and glorious.

I’m going to bask in the light of the sun.

I bought three gemstone rings today for no particular reason, maybe Mania is swirling about.

White Opal, blue Opal and an Amethyst a reminder of the sparkle pretty, shimmering facets that live inside.

Rooting myself to the earth’s core brilliance, natural hues and color palettes.

No room for hate, nope.

No sir.

Not on me, not  this day.

“I am not hate; I am not jealousy. I am the bigger person owning nothing but the dream.” THE VAST LANDSCAPE

‪#‎thevastlandscape‬

4

In truth. 41,700 word count

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I love GEORGIA PINE. I can’t wait to see how her story unravels. I love everything about her, crimson waves of strength, the direct extension of Harrison. Maybe, I did not want the The Vast Landscape to end, lost without my friend, daily companion, experience the death of someone too close. I needed a pause to reflect, the beautiful chaos that is Harrison. Families are strange, captivating complexities. I find human behavior both horrifying and fascinating. So there is room, more life experience to tell. We’re not finished yet, Harrison and I. Today, I wrote one sentence to Georgia Pine. One really good, authentic, brave sentence. Yesterday, I banged out three Chapters. They weren’t exactly ‘banged out.’ They’d been ruminating in mind for weeks, as I went about my very mundane, regimented day, the characters entertained me. I wait, not rushing my process, (ha, couldn’t if I tried) The stories as real to me as oxygen. I know I need it, to exist, to go on, to feel anchored while my brain travels in too many opposing directions. Life propels forward, shit happens out of my control. Georgia Pine. is carefully constructed, calculated fantasy sitting in truth. A fellow writer once said, “write the truth your reader can always tell.” 41,700 words of candor means the story isn’t finished yet, my story isn’t done. There is more honesty and no bullshit to be told.

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Matters of the Heart

heart happy
heart happy

I like to fix things, the fixer am I. Without a toolbox filled with talisman, memory and crazy glue, the fixing proves difficult. A house is built with cement, nails, wood, copper and steel. A home is adjoining parts, veins, bones and good intention, feeding the heart. The most perfect, precise pump ever made, says the master journeyman, and my ancestor. Impossible to understand, at times impossible to fix. 

-goethe
-goethe talisman
Home.
Home.