Hello Again.

Ahh. It seems as if I have not been on in awhile. I've gone M.I.A.
I'm not sure anyone's noticed. Or if anyone cares. I have so much I could write, but for now I leave you all with a little piece of me, if to ease any troubled minds that are reading this right now.




I never want to be the hero, that changes everything to hate.
I want to be the inspiration, for those on the brink of too late.



Lots of love to everyone, but especially those with hurting hearts. <3 
There is light out there, even in darkness. I know. I've been there, and I'm sure to go again. But understand this, even the simplest beauty out there can create the curve of the smallest smirk knowing that you beheld it.

Skinny Hollywood, Marilyn Monroe, and Today.

Just a forward. Got into a conversation where all my points were overlooked, and everyone focused solely on Marilyn Monroe. This agitated me, and now my point is being made here, as well as Facebook, and my Tumblr. This is how seriously aggravated I got.
Please, don't get me wrong, I love 50's and pin-ups and the Victorian Era, some have said that I have past lives in these two periods, but not enough people seem to understand the true nature of these times.


Just your friendly informational tid-bit about Skinny Hollywood and Marilyn Monroe. 
It's nothing new. 


The Skinny Hollywood today really started to take farce back in the 50's with pin-ups. Well, I shouldn't use it in plural -since most people only know Marilyn Monroe....




Anyways, she was the starlet who somehow really became the image idea of being skinny and being in Hollywood. (Her body was used as means of being a Hollywood Starlet people, she wasn't quite the actress and couldn't compete with anything but her body.) It had a downward spiral to it (No, not exactly her fault, but one cannot deny the correlation with Skinny Hollywood and Miss Monroe), and now you have anorexic and bulimic 'idols' for young girls to use as how they want to be in their complicated body-image times. Marilyn Monroe was a pretty face. Yes, she was beautiful, but she was also a big part as to why Hollywood looks the way it does now.


Here's a fact: Those pin-up paintings -there were photographs of models taken to use as a guideline for the paintings themselves. Do you know how many of them were contoured into 'the 50's beauty image' and 'the ideal body shape'?? 
Hm?


Majority of them.
Don't get me wrong now; 
the skinny image is nothing new in this world. 
Nowhere near it.
And I leave you with this: 


Victorian Era.

This is Life. This is the Me Now.

I realized that I don't open up enough to have a selection of close friends to talk to when I need it most. 
This is my life. 
I am pathetic.

As lonely as melting snow drops in freezing weather.

Disastrous Harmony.

Equilibrium. 
Yin and Yang. 
Light and Dark.
Balance.
I feel like my life is a perfectly knotted mess of good and bad. 


On one hand, part of my life seems like one big jumbled mess of bad. My job of 4 years -still part-time nonetheless with pretty crappy pay for all I do is on the fast track of showing me how much I am used to do, cover, recover, run, clean, and fix people's messes like I get paid enough to deal with these tasks everyday (oh no, I'm not.) Don't get me wrong, I don't completely hate my job, but I get fed up with having to do the same exact things every day I'm there -when it's not supposed to be my job. Oh, there's no coordinator up front until 12? Must be my job then! I'm fully responsible and capable to cover the job (all the jobs I do) -since I used to do it -but not be trusted with any of the responsibilities to perform the actual actions required for the 2 1/2 hours I'm running things, like get something so fucking simple as change for the registers. It's bad enough when fellow associates go to me first over the actual coordinators working but to clean up THEIR mess everyday-the one they should be taking care of -not me is pretty ridiculous. That is not the only thing either, but I will bore you no further on my rant of why I am apparently worth shit at my job.
Now, onto my other hand, the hand of goodness in my life. Even with pretty crappy days at work, I can't say that my days have been bad. (Though getting a squished Zingers out of the vending machine sucked pretty bad.) I do have good days and moments and new insights. Having the realization that staying at the same company I have worked for 4 years now isn't going to work out or put my life on track is a pretty good thing. I've been nothing short of loyal to that company, and my advancements there don't seem to be an option -since everyone else seems to be "more capable." And that's fine, I'm glad for them (some of them are even my friends), but I need my turn. And staying there will not help me. Looking for management and semi-management positions in local businesses, here I come.
This isn't all that's been happening, other worthy good and bad have happened, which puts me in binds. Should I be happy, or sad? Should I cry, or keep moving? Should I give up now, or should I keep going and make a way? My life right now had created this odd balance of perfectly harmonized sections of good and bad. My life at this moment is Yin and Yang.

I am stuck in branches, I see the goodness, can sense it, smell it, and sometimes touch it. But the bad wraps around me, and I am stuck here momentarily as I try to climb out. 

Forever My Father

I haven't posted in a while, and what can I say? I've been lacking in the story to share, and the ambition I try to drive. But here's a little piece for all of you that I'm going to share. A song I can't listen to without tears coming to my eyes. This song is for my father, who adopted me and my brother when he married our mom. A man who raised me as his very own child, when mine wouldn't. He is an amazing man, who's taken care of my family very well (I went from a girl who only had a brother to an oldest child of seven, in what seems so short a time). He's done so much for me and every time I hear this song I can't help but fear the day when his time will come. And I hope it's not any time soon. So, for all of you who read this, I hope you are filled with caring, loving memories of, if not a father, someone who carefully and dearly cared for you, and means the world -even if they are no longer here. In a way, this post is in response to A Letter I Will Never Send. This post is to the man who made his way into my life, instead of made his way out of it.

Go Radio -Forever My Father

I hope all is well in your side of life. Mine is coasting, but I need to pick things up to a bit faster pace.

'Tis not the greatest photo, but it is the beauty I beheld one very early morning. I really shouldn't always sleep in, to think I miss out on this everyday, but, alas, I may be too much of a night owl.

Something for Someone -A Letter I'll Never Send

It's been a few years, but many more before that. I thought I'd just write a letter just to let you know what I'm like, I guess. How do you put these words when you don't know what to say -all that I know is that I'm o.k. I get myself by from day-to-day and manage to get through the trials that try my strength. If these words are verse, then I don't know the chorus -I'll just sing this song this was instead.

I've never really know you -this shadow feature in my life. I am a piece of you -half of me in full. The other half that raised me shows through in personality. And as I ponder at these thoughts nothing comes to mind. All I know is hello to this stranger of mine. Another family I might never know, but the one I have now I love more then you could know. I guess I'd just like to know if you ever think of me from time to time and wonder what I'm like. And if these words are verse to you, then I don't know the chorus. I'll just sing this way instead. 

Swinging High On Broken Swings

You know, I'm gonna be honest here. 

I get discouraged too.

As an artist I want to do the best I can to make the best I can.

I look all around me and everywhere for inspiration.

I find so much beauty and art in some other pieces.

How come I can't fully do that?

How come?

Am I not good enough?

I am. But I'm still a beginner. I've only had one official art class that taught me techniques and how to actually draw. And considering the amount of progress I've made from that class, and the amount of progress I've made on my own I should considerably proud. I am considerably proud of myself. I just have to wonder, if I'll ever be good enough that someone will follow ME as an artist, someone who will share my works and say things like: "Beautiful!" "Great!" "Stunning!" "I love this!," someone who will be inspired by me as a reason to pursue something, or do something, or make a change for the better. I want to reach my hand out to as many people possible, even if I never get to see them. But it just goes to show, I have a lot to learn, and that this road doesn't end quickly. It continues to go, and I continue to walk idly, and take in my surrounds from time to time for a breath or fresh air. Just because I get a little discouraged by others talents, doesn't mean I'm ready to quit. It just means I need to practice more, to learn more, and to experience more as well as keep these hands busy and this mind running. I'm ready to settle in for the night, but hopefully this means some more progress will ensue soon.

 I guess til then, I'll just rest along on this broken swing, humming songs as the wind blows. 
Stay hopeful.