Tag Archives: writing

Some Things to Ponder!

March 19, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 5 Comments

Well, Spring starts tomorrow! That’s really good news, right?

What I love about the seasons, gang, is how reliable they are. They always come back around. I love that the sun comes up each day, too, and that the moon goes through its phases each month “like clockwork,” and the ocean waves keep coming back to the shore.

These are all things to think about right now. And also that everything passes through, moves on, transforms.

As we’d feared, though, Nick Cave finally came to the decision to postpone the start of the European Ghosteen tour. He announced it today on the Nick Cave web site, and also in his Red Hand Files letter this morning. (I’m guessing his server crashed from all the responses he got to that announcement, though! I sent a response and his server told me “too many comments, slow down” or something like that.)

Also, things to keep in the mix as you hang out, like me, in your isolation and/or quarantine, the world over right now (meaning March 19, 2020), there are over 137,000 known cases of the virus but over 123, 000 of those are mild. Close to 86,000 people have now recovered. China now has more recoveries than people who are sick with the virus, and the professional show business news outlets, expect movie theaters in China to be open again by the end of March (about 2 weeks away).

So, like all other viruses and epidemics, it comes and passes through. And we adjust to all of it. The UK news outlets yesterday carried the story of Dr. Dongchen Wu of the Wuhan area of China who has cured 9 elderly patients now of Covid 19 by use of stem cell injections.

Assuming this is accurate news, it gives us reason to hope that by the next “flu season” there could be a cure or vaccine for this. There are good reasons to balance the stress and difficulties of “right now” with these other ideas.

As illustrated by China right now, the virus comes in, balloons, subsides. It doesn’t just come and stay eternally.

Also, at least here in America, people get really angry when you compare the Covid 19 virus with the regular “flu,” because we allegedly “know” what the flu is and what it’s doing, but it seems evident that just this season alone, between 22,000 – 55,000 Americans have died from the flu. And between 370,000 – 670,000 were actually hospitalized because of it. So we still don’t have a grip on the flu by any stretch, but we have managed to find a way to still live our lives in the wake of it, every single year. (The stats come from the Center of Disease Control.)

These are just things to think about in the midst of everything bombarding us on the national news. There is always the reality of
“right now” alongside the reality of change.

Meanwhile, here in Muskingum County, no outbreaks yet. We still have toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towels. We still have food. We still have gasoline at $1.83 per gallon.(Which could be an indication that I’m actually dead now and living in the afterlife, which, in that case, means you should disregard everything I’ve just written above!!)

If you follow me on Instagram (whether from the afterlife or from Earth), you saw that I actually ventured out and got a pizza last evening! I have never done that in the 2 years I’ve lived in Crazeysburg. I love pizza but I don’t eat it too often because in this part of the country, it simply doesn’t compare to the pizza you can get in NYC. Sorry to have to say that, but, alas, it is true.

But I was really hungry and I’d been stuck inside alone for about 96 hours straight already (not exaggerating on that, gang) and I thought, not only would pizza be great, but it would also support the one & only restaurant here in Crazeysburg. (You can only get take-out in Ohio now; there’s a Governor’s mandate right now that no one can congregate in bars or restaurants, so all those establishments are really hurting financially.)

So I went out and got a pizza!! Yay. (Cheese, onions and green olives. Is that weird? I really like green olives on my pizzas. I’m not sure why.) It was indeed weird, though, inside the place because of course the women who work at the pizzeria aren’t allowed to get anywhere near you. (Oh, we also have plenty of hand sanitizer here, too.) So, you know, you walk in the door of the pizzeria, which is entirely empty of other customers, and all the staff members immediately move very far away from you. You feel like Covid 19 walking.

But at least I got out of the house. For about 9 minutes. And I ate something besides organic oranges, tomatoes, baby spinach, arugula, Greek yogurt, berries, granola, non-organic dark chocolate, and Neapolitan ice cream… (If you study that list, you’ll see that it’s reasonably healthy but fucking boring for 96 hours straight!)

Okay, well. Today is Booty Core and hair-washing, and sitting at the desk and writing something!! (And eating the stuff on that list that I’ve just regaled you with, but now add cold, leftover pizza…) It could be so much worse. I count my many blessings every day, gang. I’m guessing that you do, too.

Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a good Thursday, wherever it finds you in this big, beautiful world! We’ll say goodbye to Nick Cave and his fellow Bad Seeds for now but not forever! I love you guys. See ya.

“We’ll Meet Again”

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know
Tell them I won’t be long
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where
Don’t know when.
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.

Keep smiling through
Just like you always do,
‘Til the blue skies
Drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know.
Tell them I won’t be long.
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singin’ this song.

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day

You’re Not the Boss of Me!!

March 18, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 4 Comments

Just no way do you get to tell me what to fucking do! Yay!

That’s pretty much the attitude of most of the people who live in Ohio, which is of course why so many people (moi aussi) continued to congregate in groups way larger than 50 until the Governor had to step in and issue actual mandates that forced people (like me) to not only stay home but to not even be allowed to vote. Wow. Talk about getting your privileges suspended…

So when the number of confirmed cases of the virus basically doubled overnight in the State, it was not a surprise to me at all, not in any way whatsoever, so I have to wonder how come “officials” found this leap “startling”?

I love when the “people in charge” have no real clue what the “people they are in charge of” are doing.

(A good example of that, you know, was when Trump won the Presidency. A lot of people in Ohio voted for him. I know it won’t shake you to your very core to learn that I did not vote for Trump. But, still, he won. And in my opinion, he’s the President of the United States. Because people voted for him. I know for a fact that they did. And it’s why I’m so sick of the Democrats because they spent the past 4 years submerged in this infantile outcry, stamping their little feet, wasting everybody’s time & money, trying to remove him from his elected position, rather than spending all that time & money making America great again in ways that were more in keeping with their own beliefs about America.) (Which is why, in my opinion, America is a great country– you’re legally allowed to have whatever opinion you want and you’re allowed to publicly say whatever you want to about the President without fearing for your very life and liberty. And it’s odd how so many people who are not Democrats tend to see that fact really clearly and so they continue to vote in that direction.)

Anyway. No one has died from Covid 19 yet in the State of Ohio. But we are up to 67 confirmed cases. Way more than Kentucky and Indiana have, combined. So, on we go.

It will, alas, perhaps come as no surprise to you to learn that my table-read in NYC for Tell My Bones has ground to a thorough and complete halt. So much so, that the director of my play texted me last night to say he was flying back to Ohio first thing this morning to spend the Spring and Summer here in his mansion on the hill. He will be here until late August, just to get clear of NYC and the virus there. (Here in Muskingum County and also in the county where the director has his other home, there are so far no known cases of the virus.)

So the table-read in April is one less thing I have to do. And then that Literary Arts Fair in June that I backed out of because of planning to go to Zurich to make new friends and see Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, means two less things that I have to do.

And of course I scan the Nick Cave web site daily for any indication whatsoever that he might be postponing the European start of the Ghosteen Tour, and so far he his hanging tough — the only one in the world who is, actually. But that might be a third thing I won’t be doing this Spring/Summer if he does end up postponing the tour.

And of course the meeting with the TV streaming platform for Abstract Absurdity Productions in LA has been postponed until after the international quarantine is lifted. So that’s another thing that I won’t be doing this Spring. Although, for now, the film shoots will still be happening in Los Angeles this summer.

Sandra called last night and we chatted for quite awhile. Yesterday, the production of “Chicago” that she’s been rehearsing up in Stratford, Canada got closed down and so she will be back in Rhinebeck by Monday. (So, now that her schedule will be indescribably free for the table-read of Tell My Bones, there isn’t going to be one until the Fall.)

The only thing that remains in place for me, career-wise, is that our other play is still slated for production in Canada at the end of this year. And this sudden freed-up schedule for both Sandra and me, means that we can tackle some of those massive re-writes for that other play. And we’re both feeling really excited about that. We’ll probably just do it on Skype; I’m not planning to go back to NYC now before the Fall. But I’m still feeling really excited about getting back to work with her on that play.

So, all those things that I was worrying about having to do all at once, have now basically entirely disappeared.

And now all I have in front of me yet again is time to sit at my desk and write.

I made some progress with my broken heart during the night. Turned a little corner. Release people to what they need in their own lives and just open up my strange little path and embrace whatever comes along on it.

I’m not able to stop loving someone once I love them, but I am able to find a different place for it inside and then keep going.

Listening to the Bee Gees of course while you have a broken heart is never a good idea. We all know this. It is a documented fact that it only makes your heart break more. And yet, I guess I’m an Ohio girl after all, because I’ve been listening to the Bee Gees “How Can You Mend A Broken Heart” pretty much non-stop for a few days. (That’s correct: No one in the universe is the boss of me. I will listen to the Bee Gees if I so choose!!!)

You know, I don’t ever want to be Albatross-y to anyone, least of all, to someone I love. So I have been trying really hard to keep myself contained (in a non-Covid 19 type of way, of course, because when it comes to the virus, I want to be sure to interact closely with everyone imaginable, until the Governor himself steps in and says, “No, no, no! Bad dog!! Bad, bad dog!! Now you have to stay in your little pen and you don’t get to vote!!”).

Anyway. I’m trying to sublimate whatever I’m feeling and turn it into something that can have it’s own beauty and go out into the world in other, more acceptable ways. It’s why I’m a writer, I guess.

And last night, lights out. Dark bedroom. Shattered little heart that I was trying once more to get a grip on. Suddenly, loud and plain as day, I hear singing — music. It was so familiar to me. But it was coming from somewhere inside me.

And I thought: What is that? I know that song.

And I suddenly realized it was the chorus from Tom Petty’s song, “You & Me.” Which happens to be the last song that Tom Petty actually listened to before he died. (According to his wife, Dana, who was there with him on the bed, watching the video on YouTube, and then later he had the heart attack and did not recover.)

But it’s also a song that I really love and that man who died a couple of summers ago used to indulge me and even while he also liked Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers a lot (he was older than me, but we were in the same generation, music-wise). Anyway, we played Tom Petty songs almost exclusively while he was here in this very room with me, making a whole lot of love (before he, too, died).

So “You & Me” is a powerhouse of potential heartbreak for me, but when I suddenly realized that it was the song coming through the ether to me last night, I grabbed my phone from the night table and streamed “You & Me” on repeat. And almost instantaneously, the energy, spirit, whatever you call it, of the now-dead guy that I loved was all over me. There was so much joy. It was like a tidal wave of it, all over me in that bed.

I knew he was with me. I could almost see him, you know? Almost. And he was just filled with joy and I couldn’t help but be swept up into it, too. And even though I don’t actually “hear” voices, I feel his voice pretty loudly inside me. I can hear/feel the words. They were undeniably him and he told me stuff that was just filled with love. So much love. And he also said, “You gotta leave that guy alone now, Marilyn. Remember the boundaries.”

He actually said that. And then I fell dead asleep — if you’ll excuse the weird pun. At one point, I remember that I turned off the music on my phone. But I slept 8 whole hours. I haven’t done that in a couple of weeks, really.

So I’m feeling better, you know? Love in the Time of Cholera and all that aside — I am feeling better. And so on we go, right, gang?

You know of course what I am leaving you with today! Enjoy it. Celebrate it. Rejoice, even. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“You And Me”

Take a look
At what I got
I can’t promise
You a lot

But you and me
And the road ahead

I can’t save
You from yourself
You gotta want it
All that’s left

Is you and me
And the road ahead

Wherever that wind might blow
Wherever that river rolls
You know I will go with you

Lookin’ over
The mountain’s crown
The water roars
And tumbles down

Like you and me
And the road ahead

Wherever that wind might blow
Wherever that river rolls
You know I will go with you

Just you and me
And the road ahead

Celebratory Times indeed!

March 17, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

Happy 7th & 8th birthdays to my many beloved cats!

They’re happy here and festive today, even while they have nowhere to go and pandemic viruses to keep well clear of.

Still, they are partying hard, as usual!!

A reasonable facsimile. It is not actually sunny here today! And we don’t even live in that house anymore! Plus, I have 5 other cats who aren’t pictured here!!

Well, yesterday, I suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to focus on In the Shadow of Narcissa and maybe even finish writing it during this period of global house arrest caused by a virus.

And then suddenly, early this morning, I got word that the web site for AbstractAbsurdityProductions is finally ready for me to begin working on. Wouldn’t you know it?

I’m going to try to split my time between the two projects, though. We’ll see. I will meet with Peitor over the phone for several hours this afternoon. We are hoping to finish the “Lita” script, or get close to finishing it. We are on the final scene. (I know, even under house arrest, when I should be taking a sort of “enforced vacation,” I still have too much to do.)

I went to vote this morning, only to discover my polling place was closed. So there we have it. A true pandemic. I can’t even exercise my right to vote.

And today will likely go down as the quietest St. Paddy’s Day in the known history of the Christian world.

Sorry. This is sort of a weird, convoluted, short post. I keep getting interrupted here. And I’ve got way too much on my mind right now. Perhaps I will post an update later!

Meanwhile, thanks for stopping by for cake & ice cream!! I love you guys. See ya.

Last Night, I Had A Dream

March 13, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

That Fluffy, my wonderful, goofy, intensely loving little stray cat, was alive again. And frisky and fluffy as anything you ever saw. She was scampering all over my living room. (That’s her, pictured above.)

She had been in a nursing home (of all things) because she was ill and dying (in real life, she died at home in my bed, from cancer, back in September 2016, and then, sadly, Bunny had a heart attack and died only a month later).

In the dream, I went to get Fluffy from the nursing home and she was no longer sick. In fact, she was getting ready to have kittens!

(In real life, when she first decided to come live with Mikey Rivera and me, she was still very young, starving, ill with pneumonia, infested with fleas, and pregnant with kittens. We took her in and took her to a vet, who assured me that Fluffy wouldn’t survive. I decided otherwise. I had the kittens aborted and kept her in quarantine for a very long time. And she lived to be 10 years old.)

This time, in my dream, Fluffy was obviously so healthy and full of life that I knew she and the kittens would live and I was so excited that, soon, I would have kittens scampering all over the house again. And I knew I was going to keep every one of them.

So. Well. I’m having a bit of a broken heart here this morning, I’m not going to go into why. But I felt that the dream was encouraging. I don’t really know how to interpret it, but it just made me feel hopeful. About the power of life, I guess.

Well, at this point maybe it won’t surprise you (it sort of surprised me, though, I have to say), that Peitor continued all day yesterday to tinker with that new logo for Abstract Absurdity Productions. He did some amazing work on it. But each time I thought that it was great, he tinkered some more and it was even more amazing.

However, he sent me so many versions of the logo in texts yesterday, that now I can no longer tell which one I like better or why. We are working on the phone today, so I’m guessing we’ll be going over that and choosing one. (I hope.)

I woke up this morning and suddenly recalled how meticulous he is — a true perfectionist. And I suddenly had a vision of perhaps being in a film editing studio with him, editing one of our future 45-second movies, and perhaps tearing my hair out…

ME (to him): “I thought that was real good.”

HIM (to the film editor): “Obviously I still need to study this. Let me see that one frame again.”

ME (thinking): oh no…

Then:

ME, CONT’D (17 million hours later): “Oh my god, Peitor — that’s fantastic.”

HIM: “I know.”

BOTH OF US (accepting our Academy Award for Best Short Subject Film of the Year):

ME (wondering where Nick Cave is and what color suit he’s wearing): Silently staring at audience.

HIM (holding the actual Oscar): “…each element and perspective, and placement for not only aesthetic but also thesis…”

All righty!! Of course, I am 100% not kidding!!

However, let me tell you a couple of things. Quite a few music Divas from the 1970s saw their careers land back to the top of the Billboard Dance charts 30-40 years later, after hiring Peitor to write songs and produce for them.

And I remember, vividly, a time I was staying with him in LA — when he had this really lovely garden townhouse on N. Fairfax off of Sunset Blvd. I was in LA promoting Neptune & Surf because it had just come out (this is over 20 years ago). And I was up in the guest room, just killing time because Peitor was under a really tight deadline to compose a 60-second piece of music for some sort of Simpson’s movie. (Yes, the animated Simpsons.) He was at that piece for hours. And I could hear him at his keyboard the entire time. And he was going over & over & over one certain refrain. And I mean, for hours he was doing this — one section from a 60-second piece of music.

And then finally a messenger came to pick up the tape. And finally Peitor and I went out to dinner. And when we came home, another messenger had come by to slip an envelope under Peitor’s door and in it was a check for $36,000. For that 60-second piece of music.

‘Nuff said. So. If he wants to tweak that logo 17 million times, I say, “let him!!”

Okay!!

Nick Cave sent out a really beautiful Red Hand Files letter thing this morning. Pertaining to the Bible, and to Mary Magdalene, specifically. It meant a lot to me, what he said. You can read it at that link there if you so choose!!

I need to scoot because I have stuff to get to before Peitor calls. I hope you enjoy your Friday, wherever you are in the world. And just remember that love is beautiful, no matter what, so just be brave, okay? I leave you with two things today. A song from the 2013 album, Push the Sky Away, by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (The cool lyrics-in-progress are in the video). And then also my breakfast-listening music from this morning: the titular song, “Graceland,” from Paul Simon’s 1986 Grammy winning album-of-the-year, Graceland.

I love you guys. See ya.

“Graceland”

The Mississippi Delta was shining
Like a National guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil war

I’m going to Graceland
Graceland
In Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage
But I’ve reason to believe
We both will be received
In Graceland

She comes back to tell me she’s gone
As if I didn’t know that
As if I didn’t know my own bed
As if I’d never noticed
The way she brushed her hair from her forehead

And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow

I’m going to Graceland
Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
But I’ve reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Oh, so this is what she means
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow

In Graceland, in Graceland
I’m going to Graceland
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland

And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

c – 1986 Paul Simon

So excited to unveil this, gang!

March 10, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 2 Comments

Our new logo!! (Peitor designed it.)

Yay!! Shadow Puppets!!

March 10, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

Until that French gal’s shadow puppet caught my eye, I was actually going to lead with a cute little image like this because it’s raining here today:

But shadow puppets are just so much better, right, gang??!!

Right!!

Okay, so guess what?

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that toward the end of 2019 and into the beginning of 2020, I was hard at work, fixing that character arc for the supporting female character in my play, Tell My Bones. And that once I finally nailed it — adding a new song and some Jim Crow themes about lynchings and slave auctions — I had a distinct impression that Sandra was going to switch gears (after all these years of my adapting this play for her) and want to play the supporting role instead of the lead role.

I knew that the new material for that supporting role had become just a real standout kind of thing.

So last night, here comes a text from the director of the play. He’d gotten a phone call from Sandra, who’s in rehearsals for something else right now up in Stratford, Canada, and she’s read the new version of the play now and she said that she wants that supporting role.

Obviously, I’m not surprised. And I’m not upset or anything at all like that. Just sort of interesting what happened with that supporting character, isn’t it?

For Sandra to go from a lead role, that also means being at the helm of 6 songs, to a supporting role with only one song. That’s kind of a strong statement, isn’t it?

Meanwhile, the Coronavirus might delay the table-read in NYC in April. I’m still waiting to hear. (And I’m of course still wondering about that Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds tour that starts in Europe next month. As most of Italy tries to go on lock-down. And I saw this morning that Coachella is maybe going to postpone itself until the fall. I guess we’ll just see.) (I also saw that someone I follow on Instagram & on WordPress, posted that Coachella should postpone itself until it stops sucking.) (rrreow!!!)

Too funny. Okay.

Anyway. Back to me!

Today is all about Abstract Absurdity Productions. Again. It’s insane, how often it comes around now. (My idea, of course, to meet more frequently.) (My idea to start the whole darn production company…) And that handy schedule I created for getting that web site launched by April 1st is not exactly my friend. Every so often, I stop and wonder: Hmmm. Web site –shit! I gotta launch that thing in a couple of weeks! I still have no fucking clue what I’m doing!

So that’s cool. God knows I need more stress in my life. Every damn day. I am trying, though, gang. You know, to stay on top of things. (And to stop suggesting new things.)

If I hear myself say one more time, “You know what I was thinking?” I’m going to scream. Enough thinking already, Marilyn. Jesus. Just stop.

Well, the weather has been inching its way into Spring here. Last night, I slept with one of my bedroom windows open just a crack. And then all these little cat faces kept trying to press their little noses into that space and get some real air. Finally. After 6 months of having all the windows totally closed.

And I’ve been able to lower the heat a couple degrees, too.

Oh, and even though I still have the flannel sheets and two blankets on the bed, I slept in my little black chemise again last night!! I got super tired of looking at the Christmas PJs when I woke up in the morning. They just had to go. Winter is over & done and Spring is as good as here!

And next week — yay!! Cat birthdays all around!! Huckleberry and Tommy turn 8, and everyone else turns 7. (Except me, of course — I’ll still be 12.) (Wow, soon enough my cats are going to be older than me. That’s going to be so weird!)

[Sad UPDATE: My sweet little boy cat, Weenie — my last remaining male cat — is showing signs of kidney problems. The same thing his daddy died from last Spring. No more treats for this little guy.]

All righty. I’m going to finish up the laundry here and then get started on Thug Luckless until it’s time to work with Peitor on the final scene of “Lita måste gå!” (aka “Lita’s Got to Go!”). Have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I have nothing to leave you with today because I am still listening to “The Boy in the Bubble” and “Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart.” So, instead, I’ll just leave you with this: a tender nursery rhyme from somebody’s wee bonny girlhood (not mine, for a change)! Enjoy it, regardless. I love you guys. See ya!!

See??!! This is Why I HATE this Stuff!!!

March 9, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

Losing that hour yesterday by turning the clocks ahead, and then the super full moon during the night??!!

First, I fell dead asleep for 2 hours — couldn’t keep my eyes open. Then tossed and turned forever — mostly tossed. Then laid awake from about 2:11am until 4:17am, before falling dead asleep again until seven-fucking-thirty. What the fuck is that? And then I had to absolutely drag myself out of the bed — I was completely exhausted.

(Of course, it was International Women’s Day yesterday, so I guess I was just embodying the pure wonderment of being an international woman, which is primarily: Exhaustion.)

And all my usual morning stuff just took forever today because I felt like I was trudging through Jello, and so now I am sitting down at my desk 2 hours later than I normally do. And I hate that.

And I have a lot to do today!! Wash hair, do yoga, make a phone call, sit and ponder the intensely curious nature of Instagram for a very long time — you name it, and I’ve got to do it!

And all I really want to do today is work on Thug because I made some very interesting progress with him yesterday. (New novel-in-progress, Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town)

That part is actually serious — I am really on a journey with Thug now and I just love when a novel unfolds and takes me places I’m not expecting to go.

I’m still in chapter one, where he’s talking about his owner, Mavis, who has already died. And of course, chapter one is about finding his true voice in my head and figuring out what he knows and doesn’t know, since he’s an AI sexbot. And just how far along has he gotten in his experiences in P-Town before we join him in the beginning of the novel. Stuff like that has to come into my consciousness as it hits the page. So it takes a little while.

But it is such a cool feeling when the words come, and Thug’s personality comes, and Mavis herself becomes a personality posthumously. It just fascinates me. The words come, they’re on the page. I stop and re-read what I’ve written, and I’m sort of amazed that these are characters with emotional depth and a presence. Where does that come from?

Well, because of this extreme lack of time here this morning, I can’t tarry here. I’ve gotta scoot. But I hope you have just a really great Monday, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting, gang. I’m leaving you with a song I hadn’t thought of in a really long time — until last evening, when I was suddenly unable to not think about it. It was a hit for Gene Pitney a million years ago, but Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds did a cover of the song on their 1986 album, Kicking Against the Pricks. All righty! Enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!!

“Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart”

Something’s gotten hold of my heart
Keeping my soul and my senses apart
Something’s gotten into my life
Cutting its way through my dreams like a knife
Turning me up and turning me down
Making me smile and making me frown

In a world that was small
I once lived in a time there was peace with no trouble at all
But then you came my way
And a feeling unknown shook my heart, made me want you to stay
All of my nights and all of my days

I gotta tell you now
Something’s gotten hold of my hand
Dragging my soul to a beautiful land
Something has invaded my nights
Painting my sleep with a colour so bright
Changing the grey and changing the blue
Scarlet for me and scarlet for you

I’ve got to know if this is the real thing
I’ve got to know what’s making my heart sing
You smile and I am lost for a lifetime
Each minute spent with you is the right time
Every hour, every day
You touch me and my mind goes astray

c – 1967 Roger Cook, Roger Greenaway

Happy Worst Day of the Year!!

March 8, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

Yes, this is my least favorite day of the year — the day when we move the clocks ahead one hour and everything inside me becomes discombobulated!

(And if you use google translate to read this blog, good luck with that word!)

Discombobulated: adjective – confused and disconcerted.

For some reason, it usually takes me several days to get used to losing that hour. And even though I usually only sleep 5 or 6 hours a night and can easily sleep a little longer and catch an extra hour of sleep, I really resent doing that because I am so possessive about Time –when I’m awake, that is.

My “wide awake, me-time” is really precious to me and I resent having to surrender even one hour of it just so that the country can get a little more time to have barbecues or something all summer.

Anyway!

So here I am.

Well, today I completed yet another one of those little Inner Being Dialogue journal thingies. I have filled 4 of those little journals in 9 months. I’m serious when I say it has changed my life. It really has. It has changed how I focus my mind. And if you have any interest at all in getting a better grasp on how reality works, beneath the surface of what we generally consider “physical reality,” and to perhaps get more efficient about scripting your own life, then I really, really recommend keeping one of these journals — or doing something similar to it.

It is simply your Inner Being talking to you. Like tuning a radio dial to a specific frequency and then the voices come. For me, writing it down resonates best for me.

Back when I first started keeping the journal, I was listening to a podcast about the Inner Being while doing yoga. And a guy said that when he first began meditating to specifically tune in to his Inner Being, his Inner Being said: “We are here.”

And this totally stopped me in my yoga tracks, gang, because that was exactly what happened to me when I first started my Inner Being journal. They said: “We are here.” Plural.

When I was a little girl, I was always very aware that there were these “people” watching me. I couldn’t point to them or anything; I could only feel them. They weren’t frightening to me at all. I didn’t think of them as angels or anything. Just people– plural — making sure I was doing okay.

One time, when I was 7, I was playing with a couple of my girlfriends after school and I mentioned, in passing, something about the people watching us. And they both said, “What are you talking about?”

ME (seven years old and quite cavalierly believing I was sane): “You know, those people who watch us. They make sure we’re okay.”

And neither of them had any clue what I was talking about and so I never, ever mentioned it again to anyone, ever. (It was around that same time that I also mentioned that “thing” that happens between your legs that feels so incredible, and none of my girlfriends had a clue what I was talking about then, either. There was a lot of stuff I started to just stop talking about.)

But the “people” were there. And I started to think that maybe my birth mom had sent them to look out for me and that, because of that, none of my non-adopted friends had any need to have people watching them. Whatever.

By the time I was 12 (just a really incredible year for me, apparently), I first started having a dissociated state of mind. An alternate world I was creating so that I could get away from my adoptive mother. It seems — as I’m trying to remember it now — that that was when I started to lose that connection to a sense of “people watching me.” At that point, I was starting to really sink into mental illness. By the time I was 14, I’d become really adept at splitting myself off mentally from my mother’s presence and going to that alternate world.

I had a different house there, an entirely different family. And that’s where I went as soon as my adoptive mother came into my field of vision every day. I can’t stress enough how terrifying that woman was to me. But the dissociated state wasn’t just a survival mechanism; it was the only place in my waking world where I could find love. It eventually got to the point that if I wasn’t hanging out with my friends, then I was in that dissociated state — living in another house, with a different family.

I remember one afternoon, when I was in my mid-twenties and living in the tenement on E. 12th Street in NYC, it suddenly occurred to me that the other world was completely gone. And I couldn’t remember when it left me. It was just totally gone. I remember telling my friend Jeffrey about it, and how startling it felt to realize it. And then directly on the heels of that realization, I found my birth mom, and then a couple years into that relationship with her and all my half-siblings, my birth dad came into my life.

So it’s interesting. Charting that gradual shift over the course of 25 years: benevolent energies watching over me; my mind splitting off to find a place of love; my birth family coming into my life and filling it with so much actual love.

And then, of course, it was also really interesting to begin those Inner Being dialogues, sort of out of the blue, and find a plurality of voices there. (I don’t “hear” the voices; I feel them. The words come.)

So I will begin journal #5 tomorrow morning.

On sort of a related note — people who know me well know that, throughout my life, my psychic abilities have been really pronounced. (I believe that we’re all psychic, but I also believe that if you don’t believe you are, you won’t recognize it in yourself. I think that our psychic perceptions are actually the larger part of what our minds receive, but because of our physical senses filtering most of that out, we have come to believe that what’s physically in front of us is information that’s more reliable than what we psychically perceive. But I believe it’s the other way around. )

And even though I cannot draw my way out of a paper bag — I have no artistic talent in that area at all — when I was living in that same apartment on E. 12th Street, the night before my birth dad contacted me, I was in a really inexplicable, heightened mental state. Just agitated beyond belief. Pacing the small apartment like crazy. My mind was on high alert about something but I couldn’t figure out what.

(After a lifetime of trying to find out who my birth father was, he suddenly called me from Nevada one evening, while I was watching a rerun of “The Andy Griffith Show” on television)

However, the night before the call came…

I had a set of colored pencils and I suddenly sat down at my kitchen table and began to draw — I was in a sort of hypnotic state. Just really intensely drawing. And this is what I drew:

And then, the following day, a phone call that I had been waiting for my entire life finally happened. And my birth father introduced himself to me. (And changed my life forever.) And in that very first phone conversation, he told me that he had been in the Navy during Vietnam and that his back had been severely injured on a flamethrower during a skirmish on the Mekong Delta.

And then he said, “I have no idea why I just told you that. I never talk about that.”

Isn’t that interesting? Plus, I had been making that drawing while he was on a phone call with the people in a little town in Ohio who were telling him that I existed — and he was freaking out. He didn’t know, until the moment that they told him, that he had a daughter anywhere at all. (I was already 28 when he found out about me.)

So there you go! Just a slice of the wonderment that we call Marilyn’s Mind.

All righty. I’m gonna scoot and get started around here. It’s cold out there today, but really sunny. Outside my window right now, I can see a little boy riding his bicycle! Like maybe Spring is right around the corner…

Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with my intensely appropriate breakfast-listening music from today! “The Boy in the Bubble,” from Paul Simon’s Graceland, 1986. Another incredible album. If you’ve never heard this song, listen to it! It’s so cool. And catchy. And hypnotic and very upbeat. Okay. I love you guys. So much. Have a great Sunday. See ya.

“The Boy In The Bubble”

It was a slow day
And the sun was beating
On the soldiers by the side of the road
There was a bright light
A shattering of shop windows
The bomb in the baby carriage
Was wired to the radio

These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all
The way we look to a distant constellation
That’s dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don’t cry baby, don’t cry
Don’t cry

It was a dry wind
And it swept across the desert
And it curled into the circle of birth
And the dead sand
Falling on the children
The mothers and the fathers
And the automatic earth

It’s a turn-around jump shot
It’s everybody jump start
It’s every generation throws a hero up the pop charts
Medicine is magical and magical is art
The Boy in the Bubble
And the baby with the baboon heart

And I believe
These are the days of lasers in the jungle
Lasers in the jungle somewhere
Staccato signals of constant information
A loose affiliation of millionaires
And billionaires and baby

c – 1986 Paul Simon

But Wait — There’s More!!

March 7, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

All righty.

Today is just a really fresh and new day and I woke up feeling like I could think clearly again. I was getting a little bit fuzzy yesterday — and not in a good way. (Although I’m not sure if “fuzzy” has qualities of goodness and badness…)

That said, though, work with Peitor went great yesterday. We are almost done with the script for “Lita måste gå!” (aka “Lita’s Got to Go!”). Which is kind of astounding, all things considered, right?

We’ve only been working on this script (for an 8-minute film) for 15 months now. Yeah, I know — we each traveled a bit — one of us traveled a lot (I won’t name names but it wasn’t me). Plus we each had deaths in our families, etc., etc. So it’s not like we worked for a solid 15 months, but still. Way, way too long. But now we are really closing in on the finish line.

And what’s very interesting about all of this is that, this morning, I looked at the calendar and saw that the deadline I had randomly assigned for completion of the script is March 13th. Next Friday. Interesting, right? How making schedules can really have a positive influence on the momentum of things?

We also spent a lot of time going over organizational type stuff about how to best package the script for potential investors, because it’s a shooting script — all angles and blocking, sound cues and lenses, etc., and only 4 lines of dialogue. Although, at one point, a woman says, “Zuzu!” and at another point, a different woman says, “Oh!” But beyond that, only 4 lines of dialogue, total.)

At that point in our discussions, I mentioned to him that I got the official request to do the audition for that Literary Arts Fair — I’m reading a family-friendly version of “The Guitar Hero Goes Home,” which is an excerpt from my novel Blessed By Light.

And I said to him, “You know, it’s completely acceptable nowadays to submit the audition on video. You know, just do it on your phone and email it in. Everyone does that now.”

HIM: “You’re not everyone.”

ME: “I know, but it’s 2 hours of driving to read a ten-minute piece.”

HIM: “Are you whining?”

ME: “No. I’m just saying it’s a lot of driving.”

HIM: “But you miss the chance to actually meet the people — and to make that first impression. You know how important that is — you’ve been to finishing school.”

Jesus Christ. grumble grumble grumble. Don’t you just hate when people are right?

So I’m going to drive 2 hours for a ten-minute audition. Next weekend. And the festival itself is like a nanosecond after I will be with my new Swiss friends, seeing Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds in Zurich. So I’m guessing that the minute the Arts Festival thingy is done (and I’m having jet lag or something), Sandra will tell me I need to be in Toronto to start the table reads for The Guide to Being Fabulous (our other play, which is being produced later this year).

I am, of course, exaggerating. Still. The reason God gave us 365 days in a year is apparently so that we can take 3 of those days and cram our whole entire lives into them. And then spend the rest of the summer just listening to crickets and watching the fireflies as the sun goes down because you have absolutely nothing left to do.

Anyway. I’m guessing it’ll all work itself out splendidly.

I’ve been wanting to mention that the gas prices around here have dropped to $1.95 a gallon!! I have not seen that kind of gasoline price in over 20 years. Seriously. I’m not exaggerating now. And also, when I did see those kinds of prices 20 years ago, it was when the cost of gas was starting to skyrocket and we considered $1.95 expensive. Weird, though, right? Now I stop and get gas even if I only need a quarter of tank or something, because I just can’t get over how cheap it is! Wow. (And this is on the heels of the cost of everything else in my life inching its way into the stratosphere. So it’s doubly nice.)

All righty. I’m gonna scoot. Get the day underway over here. Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you have a really great Saturday, wherever you are in the world! And wash your hands and don’t touch your face, and all that. (Oddly enough, the friends I am closest to — meaning relationships, not distance — are each living in cities that are now in an official State of Emergency because of the coronavirus: Seattle, LA, and NYC.)

But anyway. Take care everyone. I’m on a Paul Simon kick here, still. So I leave you with the breakfast-listening music from this morning. An intensely upbeat and joyous tribute to love and those unexpected encounters that change your life forever!! Yay!! “Gone at Last,” his duet with Phoebe Snow from his truly timeless and amazing album, Still Crazy After All These Years (1975).

So turn it up and enjoy. (And remember, gang: all is fair in love, so keep those proverbial muskets of love primed & ready!) Okay. I love you guys. See ya.

“Gone At Last”

The night was black, the roads were icy
Snow was fallin’, drifts were high
I was weary, from my driving
So I stopped to rest for awhile
I sat down at a truck stop
I was thinking about my past
I’ve had a long streak of that bad luck
But I’m praying it’s gone at last

[CHORUS:]
Gone at last, gone at last
Gone at last, gone at last
I had a long streak of bad luck
But I pray it’s gone at last
Oo,oo,oo…

I ain’t dumb
I kicked around some
I don’t fall too easily
But that boy looked so dejected
He just grabbed my sympathy
Sweet little soul now, what’s your problem?
Tell me why you’re so downcast
I’ve had a long streak of bad luck
But I pray it’s gone at last

[CHORUS]

Once in a while from out of nowhere
When you don’t expect it, and you’re unprepared
Somebody will come and lift you higher
And your burdens will be shared
Yes I do believe, if I hadn’t met you
I might still be sinking fast
I’ve had a long streak of that bad luck
But I pray it’s gone at last

[CHORUS]

c – 1975 Paul Simon

Quite the Morning Here!

March 6, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

First off, I want to say that Nick Cave’s Red Hand File thing today was wonderful. He replied to a question involving some of his past often intensely provocative lyrics and how he handles them in the year 2020 — a time which has lost “its sense of humour, its sense of playfulness, its sense of context, nuance and irony“.

He wrote just a really well stated reply. And as usual, he doesn’t back down. If you’re a writer, it will definitely resonate with you on some level. You can read it at the link above.

For me, you know, so much of what I have written in my life was never, ever, even for a moment considered politically correct or acceptable in a public way. So I haven’t really had to brace myself for a future audience that might suddenly view it differently. (Unless of course that meant that suddenly my work was acceptable!! Yay! That would be so cool. You know — for my work to not always have to be read in private, or to exist in that segregated place.)

Actually, Valerie and I were talking on the phone about that the other night. How in the next century, after AI sexbots like Thug Luckless had become the norm and everybody owned one, my work would be considered classics of popular literature and they would be adapted for whatever the future form of entertainment would be — you know, 3D-hologram virtual reality streaming TV shows that might takeover a person’s entire living room and the viewer can become part of my overall erotic storyline. Right?

My future might be very bright in that regard. (Someone will find out for sure, but probably not me.)

My future’s so bright I gotta wear shades.

On a sort of Nick Cave-related note…

Today, the MP3 version of Rowland S. Howard’s acclaimed solo album from 1999, Teenage Snuff Film, is now available for download! Go get it at a (legal) download place near you!!

Okay. I can’t tarry today. It is once again Abstract Absurdity Productions day. (They seem to come around quite often now, don’t they?) I have to get some things done before my phone call with Peitor.

Have a really good Friday, though, okay? Thanks for visiting, gang. It means the world to me to have you here. I’m going to leave you with a killer song from Teenage Snuff Film — “Autoluminescent.” I love you guys. See ya.