Film View: “The Price”


Neil Gaiman’s “The Price”

“Wanderers and vagabonds have brands that are on the walls, trees and doors to inform of his ilk a little about the people who live in the houses and farms as they go on their travels. I think cats must leave similar signs. How else explain what the cats that appear on our door during the year, hungry, infested with fleas and abandoned? “

A short animation based on the story by Neil Gaiman “The Price”, published in “Smoke and Mirrors”.

“Ernest and Celestine” [Movie Trailer US]


“Ernest and Celestine” |Trailer US [2014] Animated

Ernest And Celestine taking a walk

Oscar-nominated for best animated movie. In English.

Deep below snowy, cobblestone streets, tucked away in networks of winding subterranean tunnels, lives a civilization of hardworking mice, terrified of the bears who live above ground. Unlike her fellow mice, Celestine is an artist and a dreamer – and when she nearly ends up as breakfast for ursine troubadour Ernest, the two form an unlikely bond. But it isn’t long before their friendship is put on trial by their respective bear-fearing and mice-eating communities. Fresh from standing ovations at Cannes and Toronto Ernest & Celestine joyfully leaps across genres and influences to capture the kinetic, limitless possibilities of animated storytelling. Like a gorgeous watercolor painting brought to life, a constantly shifting pastel color palette bursts and drips across the screen, while wonderful storytelling and brilliant comic timing draw up influences as varied as Buster Keaton, Bugs Bunny and the outlaw romanticism of Bonnie and Clyde. Bringing it all together is the on-screen chemistry between the two lead characters – a flowing, tender and playful rapport that will put a smile on your face and make your heart glow. Based on the classic Belgian book series by Gabrielle Vincent, Ernest & Celestine is winner of the Cesar Award for Best Animated Feature and numerous festival prizes. (c) GKids

Rating: PG (for some scary moments)
Genre: Animation , Art House & International , Science Fiction & Fantasy
Directed By: Vincent Patar , Benjamin Renner
Written By: Daniel Pennac
Runtime: 1h 20m

Editor’s Corner: 101.6

Written by Shawn MacKenzie
Post Tuesday 16th December 2014

scribe-small 101.6

In the Realm of the Senses

“Observe, record, tabulate, communicate. Use your five senses. Learn to see, learn to hear, learn to feel, learn to smell, and know that by practice alone you can become expert.” …. Sir William Osler, M.D., C.M.

Last night I was watching the cats play with the chinchillas (a special birthday treat for the kittens). Claws sheathed, eyes wide, ears forward, whiskers twitching, and mouths open to taste the air, they were totally in the now, absorbing the experience with every sense at their disposal. The chins, too.

kids chin and carter

Oh, the lessons we learn from our companion critters everyday!

Try though we might to place ourselves on a separate, gilded rung of the evolutionary ladder, we human beings are still animals. Like other furred, feathered, or scaled creatures, we still count on our senses to guide us through the world. Sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell, they layer our existence, give it depth and intrigue. They teach us what is safe, what is deadly, what is sexy, what is repulsive. Indeed, without well-honed perceptions, we would surely be as dead as the dodo.

Curiously, though we live by our senses, many writers have forgotten to write by them. Oh, we communicate through sight, sure. We are highly visual creatures. The aspects of person or place, the colors, shadows, shapes, all are accessible, familiar, and easy to share. Sound usually comes in second, then the other senses fill out the field from afar.

But why should this be? We do not live in half worlds, why should we write in them?

Just imagine if we wrote with all our senses, all the time; if we returned to our animal selves with ears up, nostrils flared, gleaning and giving information at every turn. A Victorian sitting room, for example, may be all teak and William Morris wallpaper to the eye, but perhaps it also smells of lemon oil and stale pipe tobacco, the chair by the fireplace creaking ever so gently when sat upon. This tells the reader so much more than a visual description alone. The resident has taste and a comfortable income; they take pride in their environment, keep it well. As for the lingering scent of tobacco – scent being one of the most evocative of the senses – oh, that can go a hundred ways! A father lost in the Crimea, his spirit conjured by the slightest whiff of his favorite chair; a pretentious brother who fancies himself the next Sherlock Holmes but went up to Oxford at Michaelmas.

Layers, one on another…

We are writers. Our purpose is to communicate, to move, to inspire. We take our knowledge of the world and give it back, limited only by our imaginations. So why stop with familiar? Why not go all topsy-turvy? We can focus, perhaps, not on how a city looks, but on how it tastes; not on how a thunderstorm sounds, but on how it smells. And let us not forget the rasping tongue of a whisper or the intricate fugue of a meteor shower.

meteor shower

As Dr. Osler said, learn to hear, to see, to smell. Dig deep; use all your senses. And next time you write about the first green shoots of spring, do not ignore their verdant voices raised to the heavens in paeans of rebirth. Welcome to the Big Picture. Have fun.

I will try to respond to messages as I am able. At times it may be in the form of a post or a direct email response. Guests who post, I will forward messages addressed to them. It is up to them how they decide to correspond.   — Shawn MacKENZIEMacKenzie’s Dragonsnest

Private Writings: Chapter #41 — The Killing

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #41 — The Killing

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 31st December 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.

NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.

ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell,
psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
storytelling using letters, dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, scripts, psychotherapy, psychoanalysis,
inspirations, reflective comments, inner/outer workings
mind, soul, body, emotions, bipolar, mentally creative, interesting,
brain misfiring; abuse, crashes, near drownings,
hallucinations, heightened sexuality, time warps,
finding answers, unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, discover self, soul, eternal serenity, bliss

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

It’s the Way You Love Me

Private Writings: Chapter #41 — The Killing

Tuesday 24th June 2008

Dear Annie,

One of our animals died. Molly, my horse, at least the one I always ride. She lived 34 years. It was a week of joy and flips over to death from being way too old to be alive. What makes the best age to die? If life gets out of control. You feel you have no future. Those who earn from you, aren’t earning. What is the solution to this problem? Who earns more, a live Picasso, or a dead John Lennon?

Why do those we let in, who we get close to, have to die? Which means another abandonment. I am so much closer to animals. Scottie called one of our exotic companion animals a human. At first, I thought I heard wrong. Just think deeply. They are human. Animals are. I’m sure the Christian Right would balk at being put on the same level of animals. Their feeling of being in the highest order is a birthright. A convincing argument for their feeling of superiority. Everyone else should starve to death.

Not my belief. Animals are righteous. The higher level belongs to them. They don’t work for a living, they just live. No reporting to a 9 to 5. No boss. Yes, there is a hierarchy with animals but so different than how people have fucked over who we are and how we live. It’s a hierarchy of a few who own the controlling interest of the world. Then there are the slaves, bearly making it from day to day.

It feels strange to lose someone. Molly has been in my life for over half the time I’ve been alive. I’ve known her since I witnessed her birth. In the heat of a late summer’s night. Now she is gone. I don’t do loss very well. And right now, I want to feel great having Alison back.

She got right into the business. Scottie took her to our studio today. Editing on “Touched by the Spirit” needs attention. Alison is “jumping right into the deep end.” Who came up with that line? It tends to get you drowned. I, literally, did it once, and pretty nearly didn’t survive. It is a haunting. Someone wants me to die inhaling water rather than air. No last breath of that to go out on. Hope it is not an Omen. Don’t want to die that way.

Do I have a particular way I would like to go out taking my last bow? First, I would like to be healthy the rest of my life. Second, I want to create till the very end, my mind would be quick, witty and sharp. Third, I want to drift off inside the best dream ever and drift away forever inside my dream. Everyone I love would be there or join me there. An after-life filled with all the ultimate pleasures surrounded by love and bliss.

Death is all around me. My senses are always connecting close to the edge of time and infinity. We may close off the reception but it is there waiting to break through into my consciousness.

It feels good to have our family together. Alison fits perfectly. No jealousy. Pure love, respect and caring all around us. I think it makes a difference Alison having her own home on the estate. The Chateau de Rocher is always her home but she needs her own home, where she can build her life. We made a pack to always eat dinners together when the film allows it or if any one of us has an important private engagement. We, Scottie and I, want Alison to have a personal life.

Curious, we never discussed with Alison what her inclination with intimacy and where her crushing love swings. She has never shown a personal interest in either sex or transgender individuals. She doesn’t seem interested in or notices others who might be attracted to her. Never gave time to romantic closeness. Should we be concerned?

Not everyone is interested in sexual intimacy or relationships with a romantic undercurrent. She rejects any possibilities of engaging with anyone. No reason to be concerned. Alison never talked or wrote about anyone special. She had friends but nothing ever went beyond the closeness of a friendship.

Are we good parents to not get into a discussion with Alison? She may not know how to talk to anyone about closeness of an intimate nature. I feel for her. Not my strongest ability growing up with my morally corrupt family. I didn’t know I needed someone to talk to me. Not something I did growing up, talking. Strictly quiet unless I lost it and began crying.

When that happened, all scattered, abandoning me with the Shadow Mother. A Bogeyman of the scariest kind. They hide in the shadows under your bed or in the closet while the light is switched off, only came out at night. Daytime, they would transform from shadows, entering into people who accepted their terms. Anything goes, and not of the musical kind.

My mother was one of those, who made the deal. She became possessed by evil. Her punishment was calculating and torturous. A former member of the Spanish Inquisition. One of the Torturers. She especially liked hot burning items, silk scarves to bide hands and silencing any noise coming from my mouth, and devices for striking the flesh. Often whips of various lengths and bites. Right out of the cupboards of the Marquis de Sade. Sadistic and Masochistic. With the Shadow Mother there were no safe words. I am not so sure if the Marquis de Sade had them either.

The Shadow Mother has been dismissed. Will that stop her hauntings? Sometimes it’s important to out your daemons, in order to steal their power away. What happens then? I certainly don’t want it. No desire to be evil. I just want to feel. Let it be joy but tears are a form of bliss. Laughter through tears, the deepest feelings are evoked. Let sadness in. It isn’t meant to be rejected. Depression will secure a space if the truth of emotions are not allowed freedom of expression.

Some law should be carved into the Constitution: Freedom of Emotions, but unlike guns, no one is allowed to do harm.

It has been an elevator ride this week with moods. Manic, excited, happy our girl is home. Exhausted with sadness, our Molly is gone. It was too sudden. Death should be required to give fair notice. Not with misery but with time to prepare. And no, one should not prepare for death the moment we are born. “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.” I suppose death feels the same.

Let’s switch to optimism and an endless supply of time.

It’s time for “Brief Sacrifice” and my favorite closing line.

“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”

For you, I will end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

Energy --- Artist & Founder Julia Watkins [Energism Art]

Energy — Artist & Founder Julia Watkins [Energism Art]


Somewhere In Time – John Barry

colourful bunch of flowers DArt do

rain in garden gif

Pure Ecstasy
By Madison Taylor
24th June 2008

Become
That which lives within
We are free

Being
The spirit alive
In our nature
Fighting the darkness

Entrance
Into the world
Through accidental
Analytical intention

Mysticism
Pours forth
Ideas words thoughts images
Carrying projections
Floating inside imagination

Consciousness
Kept protected and hidden
Now is free

Acceptance
Enthusiastic
Cautious
Anticipating
Thrilling

Beyond
Overwhelmingly good
Creating a heightened state
Of pure ecstasy

© madison taylor 2008

Cirque Foncé by jkmccormack (c) JkM 2007

Cirque Foncé by jkmccormack (c) jKm 2007

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream

In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

play is not just play meryl streep

“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibilities.”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #36 — Thunder Shower on the Seine

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #36 — Thunder Shower on the Seine
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 26th November 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell, psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
my choice in form of storytelling is using letters with dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, describing my scripts, recent one ‘brief sacrifice,’ film is waiting for release,
psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner & outer workings
of the mind, soul, body, emotions, and bipolar—prefer mentally creative, or interesting,
or a brain misfiring; in the mix are abuse, crashes, near drownings, illegal drugs presently,
hallucinations, hypersexuality, time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, the never ending need to discover my self, my soul, my eternal serenity, my bliss
see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #36 — Thunder Shower on the Seine

Tuesday, 20th May 2008

Dear Annie,

I must open this letter with how in shock I am regarding your news relating to the possible question of murder results in Angela’s [Angie’s] sudden & mysterious death. The M.E. Office reports the cause of her demise is from poisonous mushrooms. In their investigation, the detectives discovered Angela belonged to the Culinary Group ‘Epicurean’s Exotica.’ One of two of their favorite adventures were to seek out & claim discovery of exotic mushrooms.

The second was to have these obscene Culinary Events, where in, the price is an elevated $250,000 a plate, the Epicurean’s Exotica would host, this evening’s event in a specially announced secret location. Those who attend, receive an encrypted text to let them know the location for  “The Epicurean Delight.” The entree is always a surprise. This evening it is a freshly killed animal from the endangered species list, captured by members of the Culinary Group ‘Epicurean Exotica.’ In the middle of this, their quarterly secret  & illegal presentation, was the night Angela suddenly died. The prized species, on this evening, was the animal, most people thought was a direct descendant of the unicorn, the Oryx.

The killing of the Oryx, is a disturbing devastation for all Animal Rights Groups & supporters, the top of which is PETA [People for Ethical Treatment of Animals], who have a secret mole who makes them aware of the animal & the location. That evening it was being held near the San Diego Zoo. Ah, the irony, in a converted warehouse with modern chandeliers & lovely tables covered with exotic flowers as centerpieces. All the elegance the super-wealthy have developed a refined taste for throughout their pampered lives. So pampered, it is nothing to them they are going to be the cause of bringing so close to elimination from the earth, a most majestic creature as the Oryx. They have no shame or decency, just pure dilettante attitudes, feeling it is their right to destroy what doesn’t have a place in their oh, so grand world of order & no reminder of the nature of the environment that surrounds them.

PETA has been after the secret organization for years, but they always evaded capture & arrest, having the best law firms & most importantly, never getting caught with any evidence, just grossly satisfied patrons of their obscene practices.

After Angela died, the authorities were bought in to investigate. Now that Angela’s group, ‘Epicurean’s Exotica,’ has been named, a shift has been created in the case. Dr. George’s guilt or innocence has been brought into perspective. The judge has revisited his involvement & his incarceration in a locked ward of Bellevue of NYC, where he had been secretly transferred a short while ago. Why Bellevue, that is so outside the jurisdiction? You told me his wife has family in the city. Since the duration of his time incarcerated had yet to be established, it seem only a kind gesture from the court.

I think I am delighted to be in France & not in the middle of the USA controversy. Some of the press has found me, looking for notoriety. Avoidance has been my best way to cope, plus I have had make-up create some great disguises. I don’t wast to be connected with any side of the mess, except I would make a statement regarding Angela’s total disregard for animals not human & include it on her list of possessing a dead soulless body & her inhumanity just precedes her sudden departure from this world being a good thing. But after consideration, saying that would place me within her over populated part of the dark side of the human species.

Give me Light with a Touch of Fire & Artistic Temperament any day, PLEASE, over being totally possessed/obsessed with practicing way too cleverly the crass art of darkness & evil as your soul-less life’s purpose. Give them a wide berth from all whom I love & myself, at all times, day or night. Cover us in Love, Hope, Joy, & Bliss as our Protection.

Onto Jonathan, my best Gay & Male Friend, WE MET FINALLY. It was at Versailles, the Tuileries Garden. Jonathan made all the arrangement for a catered feast for a High Afternoon Tea, even though we were in Paris.

We hugged & placed our selves down upon the colorful pillows carefully placed on a well designed blanket of a splendid shade of blue, one of my favorites, with a print of my most loved of Jonathan Stephens’ paintings. He arranged this all for us & made it all absolutely perfect. Tea was served with tasty cucumber & creamed cheese sandwiches, caviar & Bremer Crackers, & Brie with the softness of almost melted.

After the Tea was taken away, in came the signature favorites of almost all special treats in a good afternoon. Dom Perignon served in flute glasses & perfectly ripened strawberries with stems & already dipped in the finest Swiss Milk Chocolate. Jonathan treated me like a lover as he served me by his fingertips with all the lovely delicacies.

To highlight the thrilling enjoyment our special feast, a musical pleasure was given by a cellist playing my favorite of Yo-Yo Ma, though never quite the manner in which Yo-Yo Ma would would play them. She was unique. I am certain this young woman’s idol would respect her quality of soul & presentation. She was a delight to hear. So beautiful her sound & features & pure her soul for music.

Our time was filled with talking & listening to the others stories. He was already filled up with Hunter Marx, I thought he should tell me more on the developments with Jamie Baxter, his mate, 25 yrs, to Jonathan, he is the one. He is the male lead in “Touched by the Spirits,” playing the role of Thomas Maxwell opposite Hunter.

Jonathan gives me some background on his new mate & how he feels about him. Jonathan is in love. It feels real not a moment of excitement, a 3 month turn-on, but the depth of e.e. cummings kind of poetic love.

‘i carry your heart’ by e.e. cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Jonathan tells me, he is in love & it really feels exceptional. His lover is no longer what he refers to as his Boy-Toy. There is much more depth of being inside of him. His sensitivity makes Jonathan tear up when he is speaking to me. Jonathan’s never once in a visual chat ever did I see a tear. He has deep feelings but rushes through sentiment quickly, so not to reveal his needs & wanting desires.

I am not use to the emotions of men. Don’t trust the male sex. Jonathan isn’t like any person I’ve met. As a man, he was created by Cupid & Psyche from the purity of love. His sensitivity exceeds that of many I have thought sensitive. I am not being egotistical but we are on a similar level of loving & living from out of our innocence & sensitive natures. I love Jonathan as a spiritual equivalent.

We joke with the other but we know our similarities are that of pairs meeting again after knowing the other through many past lives & pulled apart from the other. Always sharing a spiritual divination & that of switching sexes interchangeably being a male one time to being female in the next life. But always finding the other through all the possible serendipities. We are mates of a whole different order.

At one point, I ask Jonathan if he would enjoy hearing what my nemesis & his love were doing mating in my new film script? Jonathan was overwhelmingly enthusiastic. Anything pertaining to his ‘soul mate’ pleased him in an altogether thrilling manner.

So, on with the tale of “Touched by the Spirits,” written by Madison Taylor. Directed by Scottie Andrews. Production Co. “Infinite Imaginations, Inc.” Starring Hunter Marx in the role of Kristi Harrison & Jamie Maxwell in the role of Thomas Baxter.

The film opens at a party. The two lead characters start out drunk when they first meet. “Touched by the Spirit” is a comedy with ghosts of the playful kind Thomas & Kristi fall into some sort of intimate relationship & end up both possibly manifesting as ghosts.

In human form alive they are involved with two people who in real life find themselves attracted to their now ghost mates’ partners, who are still alive & in pain. Turning to the other after the joint funeral, their partners died in a single engine plane crash with 3 passengers, the only survivor being the pilot. He bears witness to his passengers love affair.

As the survivor tells his story, time morphs back into watching how everything evolves as Thomas & Kristina start falling in love & decide to go away together for a week, some time passing after their first drunken encounter. The location they both decide upon is Paris. They hire a pilot to fly them around the outer rim of the city. They weren’t allowed to fly too close to Paris, illegal b/c of terrorism & danger of all sorts.

On one of those many flights, they decide to leave the parameters of Paris to head toward the English Channel. As they fly over the Channel, they unknowingly head into a fast moving, spontaneous & unsuspecting thunderstorm. Their plane is struck by lightning & crash lands. Radio is out so radio silence cuts them off from the world at the end. All were thought dead, but one survived, just not found as of yet.

The survivor found them self washed ashore on the Channel island of Alderney. A small section of the island appeared abandoned, rough & deserted, no sight of civilization. But the pilot, Pierre, was always diligent regarding the filing of flight plans. Even so, the survivor isn’t rescued right away. While they wait, here comes on the haunting by two ghosts who have no idea they are dead. All they know is the survivor can’t hear them, so they think the survivor was, in actuality, the ghost & they were still alive. A huge confusion sets in & hilarity ensues.

I asked Jonathan what he thought, I will save his response & now I put it to you. Do you think my script has got it? To me it feels like real love is touched in this film. It may have Hunter to handle but I want this to work for Scottie & me. This is my Anniversary gift to Scottie, a brilliant artist & film maker, who knows how to draw out the soul & life of a film. My characters, she develops from my scripts, have such depth, in either comedy or drama. Even in this comedy, there is just the perfect amount of drama. It touches a person’s pain just enough that the laughter is set off. All in fun, but still the serious side that comedy hides so delicately touches when we look away in our out loud laughs being released.

I loved how you described to me what happened on the bed with Scottie. When I touched her & felt electrocuted by lightning, it felt all wrong. You saw what my abusers did in their torturing me. How, after I buried them, I am still able to see them & feel what they all did. A pain shocks me with fear, a nightmare blinds me with its symbols of power distorted. It’s as if time takes me there & resurrects the torture, the burning of my flesh with agony of tearing & bleeding.

Being raped too many times, & seeing it is not enough for me to qualify for forgiveness by the bullies in society. They never understand the damage inflicted by them on the innocent victims. They see an opportunity & the knife is stuck through my ribs to draw out my breath. They watch as I attempt my last moment of fear, to see if their blow has taken me out this time. So they can feel victorious. They landed their final blow, at last. Otherwise, why continue performing their rituals of destruction & power.

Why won’t they seek out their redemption & forgiveness. As Christ would say, “Go out & sin no more.” Is that statement so hard to hear by the believer & non-believer alike. Why does anyone intentionally hurt someone? What satisfaction is there to receive but establishing the depth of their true cruelty.

I have to stop. I will leave you with my familiar line from, “Brief Sacrifices.” But before I do, I want you to know I am going to write for you a love poem. The kind meant for those I love in the way of Pure Love. No sexual complications involved. It will be for you Annie & all those wonderful people I know & love so deeply. This is for those I have loved & will continue to love throughout all my life times.

“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”

“The moment between seconds.”

For you, I will end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,
Madison
@>-;—

© madison taylor 2008

writing-laptop_work-food-wineLaptop in USA Where Annie has Sessions with Madison 

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

blue flowersPhotographer (c) uthamz.wordpress.com [a tribute]

rain in garden gif

“All Whom I Love”
By Madison Taylor 20th May 2008
Dedicated to “Annie”
Through All Our Life Times

All whom I love
Through all life times
Such depth of dreaming
A dream of truth
Filled with being
Overflowing with presence

Knowing we touched before
Holding hands and hugs
Intertwined as a pebble
Joins ripples to waves
Washing time away
In echoes of the past

Time passes
In repeat formation
Likening to history
A solid foundation
Changes occurring
New dances formulation

Our bodies locked
Together in hugs warm
In cold of windy days
Covering the air
Snowflakes falling
Forming flowers

Approaching days
Springs revelations
Colors are treating
Vision to gazes
Of treasures
All need for creation

Teaching newness
Arriving in time
Drawing an awakening
Love in streams traveling
Renewing our places
In continuing time

© madison taylor 2008

Mothernature - Artist Katrin Fridricks

Mothernature – Artist Katrin Fridricks

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

outside the louvre paris

paris  Louvre et Tuileries

paris foreground garden Palace of Versailles

Blue green yellow Abstract Blanket

Blue green yellow Abstract Blanket

paris balconies

Paris Carousel & Eiffel Tower

jonathan stephens imaginary framedJonathan Stephens is Madison Taylor’s friend in Paris, France. 1st time meeting. Skype.

actresses-with-long-hair-hairstyle frenchHunter Marx [taken 7 years ago in 2001 the year Hunter & Madison met]
play is not just play meryl streep