Doing another Yard Sale on Saturday the 4th of August. (At 6:00 a.m. Take Herndon to Milburn, North on Milburn, West on Alluvial, North (curving around toward West) on River Bluff, North on Barcus to the end… corner lot.) So we’re selling all sorts of stuff. Bellydance stuff, kid clothes, household items, adult clothes, gothic late 90s Hot Topic clothes, shoes, collectibles, my grandma’s costume jewelry… a plethora of treasures.

Yeah. So come buy our stuff.

Anyway, going through shelves and boxes… I found some old journals. From 20 years ago.

Reading through I’ve realized some things about me haven’t changed. Some have. And some things… I stifled for a long time and then reverted back to my old self. Hm hm hm

Poring over the years I discover…

I was a silly girl at 18. I am a silly girl now.

I am reminded of the warmth of a baby slumbering on my shoulder, and part of me longs for it again.

I’m glad I’m not 18 anymore, glad I knew what I did at 23, and 25, and glad I am where I am now.

I am a shmaltzy poet and writer, and not fit for public consumption.

Example:

Duty, Honor,
Devotion, Constancy,

Desire, Need,
Yearning, Intensity

Unswerving loyalty,
Unfailing, Unchecked

Anguish, self-loathing,
Disappointment, Death

Wheeee.
Or how about THIS one:

Her hands lifted above her head in a graceful arch, she rises on her toes.

He plays his tune and she spins.

She whirls.

Her feet drum out the beat of his music, his will, as she revolves ever faster.

She capers on, and he leads her through the twists and turns of his whim; his immediacy is her only concern.

Turn here. Whip about there.

Leap now.

And fall.

The melancholy of her expression seems so at odds with the intensity of her dance. Impassivity of countenance, passion of of motion.

The master weaves the maze, constructs the song, and she gambols along under his spell.

Neverending wearying exhilarating excrutiating.

She the marionette.

He the puppetmaster.

All because he once asked, “May I have this dance?”

ooooo.

I should burn these journals. yeesh.

Unrelated: The image in this post was found here, and I fell madly in love with it. It seemed to go so well with my nonsense. Except, you know, far better, artistically. Such wonderful things there. I wonder, has she illustrated books? Is her art for sale?

I wonder, wonder.