Category Archives: sexuality

Its Beauty is Your beauty

Hello Dear Reader

It feels like a lifetime since I’ve last whispered in your ear, dear reader. It’s an odd thing, being a writer. One would think I’d just sit down, on a whim, and write. That’s not the case. At least, it’s not for me. Instead, things have to be just right. If I have my way, the moon must be visible and shining down on me. The music must be flowing through me in such a way that we become one. And, lastly, I have to be seated behind my trusty MacBook Air. Change one thing, and anxiety washes over me and I begin to question if I know how to put anything of substance onto the page. Oh the mind, it can be our greatest ally. And so often, it can be our greatest foe.

You see, dear reader, this MacBook Air of mine that has aided me in writing numerous posts, novels and children’s stories is growing tired. I have to wait as it catches up with a mind that screams along at unsettling speeds. And as for the moon, its been awhile since I’ve had it shining down on me. One day I will have a desk that sits under the glow of its nurturing light again. But the music, it never fails me. And thank God for that. Truly.

Too much time has passed since I’ve written. A lot of life has unfurled beneath me. Too much to write about, but just know this: I am still sailing forward. I am at the helm, looking out at the horizon with wonder and delight. The waves, well, they do what they do. More often than not though, there is calm. And when I do look back and notice the the rough seas, I do so with gratitude knowing that, once again, something kept me upright. My time of having to plunge deep grows less and less.

So, if you are in the midst of underwater discoveries yourself, take heart, one day you will buoy up and with it, not only will you enjoy breathing, but you will breathe knowing who you are. There is mastery in that. Sometimes I wonder if that is why we are here; to discover who we are – and then love ourselves once we know. Love, that’s what it’s all about. But first it starts within. If you can’t love you – loving another is counterfeit. Love moves outward. The Universe rests within you. You are made of the stars. Why would Source do it any other way?

Recently, I went on a trip with my brother. We spread my father’s ashes along a small creek nestled into the side of a mountain. I watched as his physical form was embraced by the water and returned from which it came. And it felt right. Life alteringly difficult, but very, very right. I flew above my brother and I, and watched our star-dust beings return my father into its physical home. Pure. Divine. Transcendent. I hope I have as beautiful an end. In the months since I’ve been thinking a lot about the gap between the soul and the physical. There is a huge gap and yet no gap. The soul is one with everything. All the while being completely separate. I love the awe-inspiring gap. I love having one foot in this world and one foot someplace else. My awareness of this is often overwhelming. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. Its just who I am.

I love that ‘someplace else.’ It’s home to me. It is the place best described as being closer to the stars. It is the place where energy runs free. Its exhilarating. Its passionate. Its unbridled. And it is like air to me. It’s in music. Its in laughter. Its in the way our heart fills unexpectedly with emotion. And I know its seen in my eyes.

We are all so much more than we believe ourselves to be. The essence of who we are is there for the taking. If we allow ourselves to tap into it, then become it. And it is love. Love is Source and Love is all there is. It’s from where we came. And it is where we will return. So smile. Dance. Let the music flow through you. Look up and give the stars a nod. Its beauty is your beauty. Love.




Mondo Cozmo – Shine

MISSIO – Middle Fingers

Van Morrison – Into The Mystic

The Strumbellas – We Don’t Know

You Are Love


I’m a victim of rape. Did you know that about me, dear reader? It’s one of the most heinous and evil violations done to another. Far beyond a legal crime, it’s a crime against humanity. There is the physical act, but there is also the spiritual karma generated; an energy interaction that transcends the physical. Causing a wound that takes enormous fortitude to heal. But, like all wounds – it can heal.

It must be part of my soul’s journey, that my healing process be long, deep and hard. As healing this part within myself was that, and more. Yet, for all that was taken from me, I have given back to myself ten fold. And Source has given back to me a hundred fold. This I know to be true.

If there is a purpose within such an act, I feel it is that we use it to help those who have endured similar. You see, dear reader, I understand far more than I let on. I understand what it feels like to be hurt beyond heart-break. I know the walk to heal a broken soul. I know the battle to overcome shame. I know how it feels to have someone steal a part of who you are. Abuse is abuse. It is a crushing blow that can cripple you until your final day.

I don’t believe in happenstance. I believe events happen for a reason. I may die not having understood them all. But it was after this event that I began to see within people. I began to see their soul. And although this has been a bitter gift at times, I still wouldn’t trade it.

More than anything, it blossomed in me a level of compassion for the abused and disempowered that, to this day, is the basis of my spiritual world. Yet the flower had already been growing. People may damn their unstable upbringings. But for me, mine birthed a flower that became a soul that feels most at home deep within the world that sits just behind the one our human mind sees. I suppose it entered knowing it was destined for such a journey, and I know that I know that it was pleased with what it saw coming. Not because the events would be joyful. But because they were necessary if ever I were to fulfill my purpose. And that purpose is to be an example of love. And often that love stands in the face of all that love is not.

The times I have acted in love amidst the absence of love is numerous. I could damn God for such experiences. Having done so, I know what I would hear, “The example needs to be shown to those who most need to see it.” I live for the moments where I bear witness to love.

Tonight I’m sitting with a nice Côtes du Rhône, good chocolate and good music. I’m sitting with candles lit and I’m peacefully, and sometimes tearfully, reflecting on my life. I’m allowing God to unearth in me all that needs my attention. Things that make me smile. Things that make me cry. Both have value. I’m taking stock of how I’ve done thus far. Life is an endless cycle of opportunities. We are confronted with people of all kinds, carrying out deeds good and bad. Sometimes we become the victim. But later, we get the chance to see that we became a survivor. The Good Book says not to hide one’s light. That light is your truth. It is your hero’s journey. Share it. Help another to heal. Help another feel less alone. If you share your bumpy story, then another will feel less judgmental about their own. That is love.

Love who you are, my friend. You’ve been through a lot. And sometimes it doesn’t feel as though it will ever end. Just remember, you are loved. All the things that have been done to you, are not who you are. Who you are is determined by what you have done in the face of those things. Someone tried to take something from me. They succeeded. And it took years to heal. It took years of nurturing. But, for everything they took, I’ve added. My love is more tender, more authentic, more steadfast and true. Its raw and its nuanced and its spiritual beyond words. I remember ever baby step and every far reach it took to get here. I remember ever muscle ache and bit of fatigue. Not to mention how life looks when brought continually onto one’s knees, surrendered in prayer. With every agonizing bit of growth came a feathery soft, encompassing hug from heaven. Every pivotal event in my life has caused me to discover something new about myself.

To this day I cry as softly and delicately as I laugh. When I make love, heaven joins me. When I speak, something sometimes pushes my voice aside to share a deeper truth. When I look upon this world, I see the profound beauty mixed with actions that show how dark people can be. Within a person’s eyes, I see their soul and I see their struggles. I see their truth and I see their lies.

I was eighteen when someone broke into my garden, and tried to take the beautiful flowers within me. Little did they know, those flowers had roots. And once the rain had time to pour down and the sun had time to shine, the flowers returned. So remember, dear reader, I understand. Life can be brutal. But you are strong. And within you is everything you need to blossom. No one can take that away. No one can take away Who You Are. Only you have that level of power.


Written while listening to: Into the Mystic by Van Morrison (if ever I marry again, this will be my wedding song) and We Don’t Know by the Strumbellas.

Today Is a Good Day


Those closest to me know that I have been hard at work over the last year developing something that felt pressed upon me by Source in such a way that I couldn’t ignore it, even if I wanted to. Fortunately, I didn’t want to. Helping others see within themselves that which they can’t yet see is a deep passion of mine. I can’t say I asked for this passion. As often its a rather muddy endeavor. But like most things brought to us by the Divine, even the hardships are surrounded by Love and Light and a certain beauty that brightens the darkest of days. So I pressed on.

Today marks the official opening of my women’s clothing company, Rebel Spirit Empowerment from Within. The world feels better when we believe in ourselves. And because we are all One, how we feel about who we are, and our part in this whole thing we call life – matters.

Each of us plays a role in the health of the whole. And no one can overpower our free-will. It is up to us to decide how we view the world around us. But what is most important is how we view ourselves. Because it is through that filter that we view the world. When we feel abandoned inside, we view the world through the ache of loneliness. When we are broken within, and left unhealed, we view the world through those shattered pieces. In the end, we live viewing our world through a distorted lens.

It needn’t be that way. The world will always possess the dichotomy by which it is made. It must. We must have both extremes. We would not be able to grow by way of continual Higher choices if we were not given the chance to choose what serves the spirit versus what serves the ego. So try not to wish for a world filled with only sunshine. Instead, heal your lens. Then you will be able to view the beauty that rests in the dark.

Love yourself. Believe in yourself. You are here with a purpose. You have great value and great beauty within you. I see it. But it wasn’t always that way. I couldn’t see it until my own lens was valued. I was given a choice. I could keep seeing the world through the brokenness within me, or I could set about to love each and every shard. I chose the latter. And out of that I got down on my knees and began to piece together the All of Me. I love the mosaic I now see. What once were flaws are now pieces that fit perfectly into the backdrop that surrounds me. I own them. Those moments were hard. But they made me into who I am today. I have great empathy due to them.

So, you see, its time we start looking inward. Instead of pointing outward and blaming others for why we are the way we are – its time to start looking inward. But doing so with great love and tenderness for how you got where you are. The greatest love affair you will ever have is the one you have with yourself. All other relationships mirror how you love – you.

Dear reader, today is a good day to start loving who you are.


Falling In Love


I can’t speak for how it is in any other country, at present. But for those of us here in the States, we’ve been hit with a barrage of reminders from the media that it’s Valentine’s Day. A time for love. History is a bit hazy as to a definitive origin for this holiday. So, I like to go with the one that feels best to me. February marks the time when nature looks toward new growth, new life, a new season. I like that idea.

There is a new season awaiting you, dear reader. Its waiting, and its bursting with potential. But you must do the work to bring it about. The fertile ground of which I speak has nothing to do with what’s out there, and everything to do with what’s inside you. When you look upon yourself do you offer up harsh words of judgment. Do you whisper self-criticism when you look in the mirror. If so, please stop. Instead, start planting kind words into your mind.

I want you to fall in line with one of the most Divine guides given to us, nature. See yourself with promise. See yourself as an ever-changing, ever-developing, ever-unfolding creation that gets to ride through many seasons while here. Each season, guided by both nature and our own beliefs. We can never be more than our beliefs. So, what do you believe about yourself?

Give yourself the gift of self love and appreciation, not just today, but for this new upcoming season, and every season. It starts with this simple, yet poignant, ritual – look in the mirror, and fall in love with who you see. All of your past beliefs rest upon the face that’s looking back at you. And within the eyes that are gazing hard upon your own, is your inner being. The child within you. The person who has walked through trials and tragedies. The person who has taken more beatings from you than it has ever taken from any one else. Also is the person who loves to laugh; who loves to sing; who loves to play; who loves to savor the deliciousness of life. Be courageous, and feel what is stirred within you as you lock eyes with your own image while repeating these simple words: I love you.

There is a very strong likelihood that the person in the mirror has not been loved by you – not fully. Instead, its had to harbor years of criticism and judgement. Let those words not touch your tongue this year. When those thoughts fall into your mind, sweep them away with love. Don’t damn yourself for having them. Remind yourself that they are merely a habit you started long ago. Maybe they started by way of words spoken by another, but you took it from there and made them your own. Your brain, the magnificent tool that it is, has created default pathways that cause – what was – to be – what is – until you break the habit. Then a new pathway is formed. Like giving up anything familiar, it takes time. But that person in the mirror is worth it.

Be courageous, dear reader. Stop looking externally to be loved until, at the very least, you have first found it within yourself. Surround yourself with thoughts that edify, uplift and encourage you. Add to your life those things that bring you joy. Start to cherish you as if you were the love of your life. Because, quite honestly, you are.


It Gets Easier

It Gets Easier

Emotions are like waves. There are times when they have us moving in all different directions. Oftentimes, we follow them wherever they go, even when they take us into a storm. An emotion is triggered. A thought follows. Then another. Then another. Before we know it we’re caught in the midst of something that feels quite valid. Yet, more often than not, isn’t.

Those emotions, and their subsequent thoughts, are fictional in the sense that they are not based on anything for which we are certain. There is a good chance that the emotion that was triggered is linked to a fear. In my experience, fears come with a whole slew of what if thoughts at the ready. And because of our human conditioning those what if thoughts rarely lean toward the positive.

Due to such, we could easily damn fear-based emotions. After all, they are difficult to endure. They are intrusive. They are painful. They appear out of no where, and fall upon us like a tidal wave. Next thing we know we can’t breathe. I don’t believe this ever goes away, not fully. But I do believe we can become skilled at breathing while under it all. And, stronger at swimming.

Try to remember dear reader, that their force does not prove their validity. But what is valid is that they reveal a very important belief that dwells within us. Instead of burying us, they are offering us the chance to bring something into the light. Our thoughts bury us. Not the emotion.

The emotion is bringing to the surface something that needs your attention. An area where we lack faith, and area where we are harboring a piece of brokenness; an unresolved hurt or perceived failure. Nothing within us stays buried. We may work hard to suppress and cover up those things within us that cause us discomfort, but they will resurface. And after time, they do so with force.

So dear reader, if you find yourself dealing with an emotion that has left you feeling uneasy or sad or defeated – pause. Before letting your thoughts run rampant, ask yourself – in the most honest, raw, unabashed way that you can – why am I feeling this way. What is at the root of this? Joy is your natural state of being. Not fear. Not anxiety. Not defeat.

Days in which you have to confront your emotions and their underlying cause can be exhausting. But they are important. And in time, as you gain balance, as your spiritual muscles grow, so does that of your emotional being. Those emotions become less turbulent. Instead of triggers you have memories and experiences that allowed much needed insight into yourself and why you behave as you do. And instead of being ruled by them you become enlightened due to them.

We never become whole unless we embrace the whole of who we are. This means embracing that which sits in the light and that which rests in the shadows. It does get easier. In time, we are surprised less by our thoughts and actions, and rarely swept under the waves of our own emotions. Rather, we glide along the top. We know what is above and we know what is below. We released our grip of the boat, because we no longer fear falling in.


True North

Breathe in. Breathe out. Dig deep, and go inward. Feel who you are. There is nothing better. Of this, I can assure you. When you are lost, within rests what will save you; it is your compass, and it belongs to no other. Due to such, if consulted it will guide you to your True North; not in the direction meant for another. That is their journey. Yours is yours.

We try so hard to fit into the molds cast by others; shapes and forms determined by those that surround us: friends, family, the media; all possessing preconceived notions as to what we should and should not be. You are a flexible being, but the boundaries that confine you, the outline that defines you – is for you to determine. Be bold, my friend. Hold fast to your true self. Try not to waver and cave to the ideas and opinions of others. You are not them. And they are not you. Seek no one’s approval but that of your own. And give it to yourself freely.

When teaching children to love who they are, I remind them that it is those who break boundaries held by the norm that also change the world. Nothing new is discovered unless we reach beyond the known. And it is there that new “knowns” and boundaries are established. I say, keep reaching. Never settle. And if you do, may it be with a deep sigh of contentment – knowing you are where you need to be.

My life is one in which I work hand in hand with something that is a bit beyond my understanding. But it is who I am, and every time I try to function differently, I lose my direction. When the crowd walks to the left, often I am meant to walk to the right. But I am not alone when I do, and for that I am most appreciative. Even in some of my hardest moments I have been given numerous signs that the unfolding, happening in this singular way, in this particular direction, is where I need to be. Sometimes we are meant to follow in the footsteps of another, sometimes we are not. Either way, make sure your steps are in harmony with your True North. It doesn’t matter if you are the first or someone has gone before you. It only matters that it be the direction in resonance with your inner compass.

If only we could hold this compass in the palm of our hand. We can not. But it is there. Within all of us, it is there. So sing loud, or sing soft, if it feels right to you. Wear your hair in shades of blue, or chestnut-brown if it suits you. Be only you, and live your days in harmony with the direction meant for you. Now with that in mind, let’s all walk on.


The Naked Mind



If I were to have one requirement of my partner it would be that of total nudity. Not of the body, but of the mind. Most people however, struggle to bare this part of themselves.

It is within the labyrinth containing a man’s thoughts, dreams and fears that I want most to explore. Because it is there, where my attraction is formed. I’m intrigued not only by the words he uses to describe the profound and the mundane, but also the emotional texture and energy that rests behind those words.

There is nothing more exquisite than walking hand in hand, the corridors of one’s thoughts. The comments shared without thinking. The words said in the dark, before closing their eyes; words that emerge abruptly as if knowing there’s only a few minutes of wakefulness left in which to give voice to thought. The simple sentences that fall from the mouth after a long, soft look into their lover’s eyes. Then the blush that falls upon their face once they realize what they’ve said. The way the mind pulls hard to reign in the ardent desires of the heart, and all it wants to reveal.

But then, when allowed to walk further in, are discovered the words said when all hope is lost, and tragedy has struck. There it is discovered if the mind turns abruptly to a place of cold aggression, jealousy and fear, or toward a place of patience, faith and understanding. Are vitriolic words etched into the walls of their mind. Are the floors of their thinking, solid and stable, or teetering with mistrust. These things are the makings or unmaking of my partner.

Anger happens to the best of us. But when it does – what is said. It matters to me the words spoken through the mouth that rests upon mine. Once spoken, the words can’t be unspoken. Words are like entities released from the maze of the mind, taking on a life of their own.

Nothing is more breathtaking, than when a man feels safe enough to expose his naked mind. When he wants nothing more than to feel my tender feet walking along the pathways of his thoughts, and my gentle hands gliding along the walls of his most precious dreams and memories. I do not require my lover to have a mind shaped like that of my own. If he did, what would there be to discover?

Lovemaking of the mind is the most exquisite kind. This being the chosen method of most writers. Nothing hidden. Nothing feared. The body working hard to keep pace with a myriad of thoughts. When a kiss is the way to absorb the other’s thinking; through which is felt the acceptance of one’s thoughts. What could be better than knowing – the one with whom you are sharing your body – you are also sharing your mind. I can’t say this way of experiencing another would suit everyone’s taste. But once one has allowed fine dark chocolate onto their tongue, or a skillfully crafted red wine to glide across their lips – why would they ever want less. Simply put, I have no appetite for anything less.


Standing at the Water’s Edge

It is my belief that there are three reasons for which certain things come our way: To heal something within us; to create something anew; to experience something, large or small. Sometimes going in, we already know which of the three it is.

There is a type of love that is near fatal. I lived within that type of love once. Instantly, it was known between both that the moment had been conjured in the cosmos. Every kiss was felt on a molecular level. Few words needed uttering. But the ones that were, held a tangible quality as if pen had met parchment. And once the love was broken, fatality did ensue. As I’m writing this, you know it wasn’t me that stopped breathing. With sadness, I reflect upon the loss. But not as often as you might think. I had to let go, you see. Doing so was a must. If I was ever to love again.

I have to imagine within that love, I was meant to feel all three purposes. I experienced a love that made my soul swim. Its aftermath required of me an enormous amount of healing. From which, I created knowledge of what love can be. Although my benchmark is now quite high, it matches that of the passion that lives within me. And within my novel, I allowed that love to come to life again.

I have to wonder about having it again within the world that shapes my reality. Not the one of fiction. Due to one experience, I now know what I want. And as I set out walking this long road that is mine, I do so with an acute awareness that  I will settle for no less than a love that feels poignant, beautiful and fatal in its desire.

But such a love is vulnerable, in many ways. It takes profound strength to swim in those deep waters. Splashing in the water is fun, but when I want to swim, I want to swim deep. I can’t imagine doing otherwise.

There are many who do not feel this way. They want someone who’s sole reason is to be there. The love they want to feel is different from mine. Different journeys. Different desires. One is not better than the other. What is important is that we find a swimming partner that swims where we swim.

Looking over life, one can compartmentalized the situations that have come their way. Identifying the moments meant to heal; meant to create, and one’s sent solely so we can experience something in its fullest form. But when it comes to love, at least for me, it must contain all three.

Of course, there is no right or wrong when it comes to such a thing. The human journey is so terribly unique. Only we know what we want. And only we should decide what we want. I say search until you find it.

For me, however, I will never settle for less than a kiss that pulsates with electricity. A heartfelt glance that dances with palpable, yet invisible energy. And chemistry that swirls merely because our bodies are near. This may seem lofty to some. Unnecessary to many. But again, I will say, such a thing is divine. It’s presence lingers long after the last word is spoken. And from onset, it’s apparent that this union contains the gravitational pull of the heavens.

And if I had that once, I intend to have it again.  So here I stand, on the water’s edge.


Listening to Tegan and Sara – Closer

Intellectual Symmetry

I’ll be damned. I just discovered I’m a sapiosexual.

Sapiosexual/Sapiosexuality (sā-pē-ō-sĕk-shü-ăl’ĭ-tē). A behavior of becoming attracted to or aroused by intelligence and its use. Origins: From the Latin root sapien, wise or intelligent, and Latin sexualis, relating to the sexes.

Had I known this core truth about myself years ago, it would’ve saved me two failed marriages; not to mention, a few misaligned hook-ups. But as things go, it takes time to discover something of this magnitude. I believe in the power of contrast. I feel it is why our world is so vast in nature. To develop a true understanding of one’s inclinations, desires and dreams, one has to be given a chance to sample the buffet that is offered in this world. Unfortunately, this sampling doesn’t happen quickly, or in a benign manner with plate in hand, ambling along a long table of life’s choices. Usually we find ourselves bound by a contract to someone we are quite certain is the anti-Christ or at least a first cousin thereof, and seated in a job that sucks the very marrow from our bones.

Once the realization is made however, it is up to us to choose differently – next time. Steering ourselves away from what we know we don’t want, and toward that which we feel we do. Even then, more tweaking might become necessary. Life isn’t black and white. Our choices are made out of many.  Even within the field of “getting warmer,” honing of our desires is vital. Not to find perfection. But to find true symbiotic harmony.

Romantically speaking, I refuse to sit across from a man whom I do not find intellectually stimulating. And as much as it may seem unnecessary to possess such an attribute for a simple romp in the hay – it still is for me. Where I’m concerned, foreplay isn’t simply the bandying about of sensual words. No. To me, nothing is more enticing than listening to a man share his intelligence. Not with false bravado and a look-at-me persona, but simply possessing profound knowledge within his field. A man who is good at his craft is an attractive thing. We are all artists, if what we do, we do well and with skill. I am not concerned about his profits. On the other hand, I do have great concern for his integrity, enlightenment and keen intellect.

Not all women are sapiosexuals; for that I’m glad. Let the others glean out the one’s with six-pack abs. A healthy fit body, yes. But one that is carefully carved – not necessary. The only way to open the floodgates of my passions and my body is through my mind. Which admittedly, is a bit impervious. However, such a feat is highly possible; providing one is clever enough to Spiderman their way up the wall.

As we age, it seems the majority fall into one of two categories: the earnest pursuit to fill a void by stuffing it with sexual pursuits or finding intellectual symmetry with another. I am tempted to rule one as better than the other, but who am I to say. Each of us is on a journey. And the journey should not be judged. With that said, I am pleased that I will no longer accept a copilot who doesn’t also see a similar horizon and the same peculiarities along life’s path. He’s out there, this person. Most likely with his nose buried in the map.


On Dating a Writer

My father, regardless of having just stated something incomplete, would often end his proclamation with the words: Period. End of sentence. My love of words was not fostered by his approach. However, my love for expression was.

I was speaking with a friend the other day. On the subject of the opposite sex he said, “Dating you requires a lot of responsibility. They want to, but quickly discover they can’t.” As you can imagine, I mulled his words over considerably. He was right.

I would like to say dating a writer is like dating anyone else. But it’s simply not so. That would be like saying driving a cargo van is like driving a sports car, or bicycling provides the same ride as a motorcycle. Oddly enough, when we crawl behind the wheel of a curve hugging coupe, rarely do we later fault it for hugging the corners tightly. And yet, it is known by my writing colleagues that the desire to date a writer is strong. But once settled in with one of us sitting beside them, they wonder why we think so much.

I had this happen recently while on an outing. This person placed on the table an incomplete situation. And, like my father, wanted for many reasons to put a period on the end of the sentence; regardless of its fragmented state. The woman I am, and the writer that lives within quickly flicked his purposeful period aside, and wanted to delve into the subtext; knowing lighter times, closure, or advancement is found upon doing so. This person whom sought out and pushed hard for a moment with me said, “You think too much.”

Please know dear readers, thinking is my bread and butter. But also, it is the crux of who I am. As kind as my words may be, the voice in my head rarely edits itself. After he spoke, I cast a glance to my side at his profile, and thought, “No shit Sherlock.”

I only know the thoughts of the writers within my close circle. One thing these gifted souls have in common is they are quite real. They express the whole of who they are. Perhaps due to the courage it takes to write, or the process of giving of oneself in this most intimate venue, we tend not to feel the need to veil ourselves. Generally, we can speak freely about most any subject without inhibition, fear or insecurity. What you see is, undoubtedly what you get. But we are without question a cerebral bunch. And often, our mind is the gatekeeper to our passions. If the mind is not properly enticed, the body refuses to follow suite. Unless of course enough wine has been introduced to the situation. In which case, even a tree begins to look handsome. A human flaw, most all possess. Coyote ugly extends both ways. To our credit, we usually pass out before entrapment occurs as our mind tends not to let us off the hook then either.

So to anyone considering sliding behind the wheel and taking a writer out on the open road, please remember – you wanted the experience. Do not fault us for not having enough storage space. Do not critique us for not being able to amble up a sandy hillside with big, knobby tires. We aren’t geared for those discoveries. Generally speaking we hit the long and winding road, and we do so with precision and acceleration. The hum under our tires rolls us toward our destination. But more so, the rhythmic sound of pavement unfurling underneath, will continually cause you to think as well. We have no desire to change our make and model – and never will. Of course, with that said, once you relax – its one hell of a ride.


The Kooks – Do You Wanna