Still Life – A Short Film

i heart short films

Still Life

Post by Jennifer Kiley

Post Friday 1st August 2014

I <3 SHORT FILM

Still Life by Zandrak

how do we hold a moment?

is it a sight a sound a sensation…

…does it have distance you can travel on restless feet…

…how can you capture something that is meant to capture you…

…cheated ourselves out of times well lived…

…what we hope to find is ever realized…

…to hold such moments…

…only you lived them…

“Still Life” is a short film that seeks to find connection between creativity and everyday moments, set against the backdrop of New York City. It was shot guerrilla style with the Phantom Miro and Red Epic.

Interested in Behind the Scenes? Check out our blog for pictures, info, and stories about the adventure which lead to this film! zandrak.com/blog/2014/4/15/lenses-and-longboards-the-making-of-still-life

“Still Life” premiered April 27th 2014 at the NFFTY festival in Seattle.

“Coming Back to Life” – David Gilmour

Transformation
Sunday 16th February 2014
<3 <3 <3

Blue Morpho Butterfly Adult Emerging from Chrysalis

Blue Morpho Butterfly Adult Emerging from Chrysalis

Coming Back To Life
Singer/Guitar David Gilmour

A Song Filled with Magical Passion
A Help In Releasing the Darkness

Innocence Abandoned - Artist MTaylor (c) jKm 2008

Innocence Abandoned  (c) jkm 2014

Coming Back To Life

By David Gilmour

Created by Jennifer Kiley

Post 5th July 2014

DAVID GILMOUR TEARS AT HIS SOUL
TO SHOW US THE SOUND OF TRUTH
HIS WORDS RIP OPEN THE PAIN
RELEASE THE DARKNESS
HIS GUITAR TEARS OUT THE EVIL

WHAT WAS ATTACKING
NOW IT SHOULD BE BANISHED

David Gilmour - Coming Back To Life

Coming Back To Life
By David Gilmour

Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else’s words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun

Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life

I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight..into the shining sun

Perceptually Intangible Motion - Jennifer Kiley 2014

Perceptually Intangible Motion  (c) jkm 2014

“I Am One of the Searchers”

a writer's word polished or raw

“I Am One of the Searchers”

By James Kavanaugh

Post by Jennifer Kiley

Posted on Sunday 15th June 2014

water ocean gif

sun rays into forest“I Am One of the Searchers”  There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know. Unless it be to share our laughter.

sunrise in the mountainsWe searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide.Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, not prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to have to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

river thru rock walls  by cocoaaaaa

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers,

for lonely men and women

who dare to ask from life everything

good and beautiful. It is for those who

are too gentle to live among wolves.

— James Kavanaugh

[There Are Men Too Gentle To Live Among Wolves]

rain on window in the city gif

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Private Writings #65 – “I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]

“I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”
Private Writings #65
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 10th June 2014

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

I am the storyteller using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts

to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss

but to most importantly tell the best tale ever after upon a time.

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #65. “I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”

Tuesday 2nd December 2008

Dear Annie,

Tell me what it is to be sexually attracted to someone whether you are a lesbian or straight. I feel so fucked up and suicidal right now and overwhelmed with anxiety. Confusion fills my mind. I need to draw from something sane to stabilize myself.

Something wants to take over my body or thoughts. It could be the voice I feel is coming from a ghost.

There has also been something very bizarre occurrences of objects moving, sudden winds, books fall off shelves, rather more like books being thrown off bookshelves and desks by invisible forces. The aberration has been very angry today and quite destructive. It’s either a ghost or my telekinetic energy mad as hell and sending out tremendous amounts from a negative energy flow, causing waves of the power to move objects and send them sailing.

It is odd but I have no feelings. I’ve shut them down. I may be trying to escape but I can’t. My life won’t leave me alone. It demands attention. It doesn’t like being all fucked up. My life is always with me no matter where I try to escape or into what insane state of mind that I produce. All the shit will still be here facing me down. There’s far too much pressure for me to handle safely. I have cracked in many vulnerable places. They feel like they could blow my mind away at any moment in & outside of time. I believe the rest of what is “me” would disappear with it.

For a quick moment, I would like to profess or confess, I HATE MY FAMILY, the part that tried destroying me. The pedophiles who forced me into experiencing their perverse needs and desires. They satisfied them on me. Stealing my innocence inside of their perversions. Presently, my gut feels like they have cut my insides open in order to watch me fall out & splatter over everything & everywhere. It is the most disgusting display of gross intentions.

I am Humpty Dumpty & no matter how hard I have tried, No One Seems To Be Able To Succeed In Putting Me Back Together Again. Nor Will They Ever, I Feel. Hope feels lost amongst the ruins of my once intricately commanding mind. I have failed or haven’t succeeded beating them back enough, far away from my center of being. Their corruption has infected me & I haven’t found there is a cure for the poisons they possess.

If I could have the dream life I wished for, not much would change. I love my new family. I never see the old one. The grandparents I love are gone. My grandmother is with me, inside every part of me, especially my heart & soul. She lifts me up into the sky to soar while I dream. When I am awake, my Muse & my grandmother are quite the pair when they work on me together. Sparks fly out of my fingers as I type on the keyboard. As the words appear on the page, I can see the flames licking the screen & feel their warmth caressing the meaning from out of the free flowing air around us. It is quite mystical & pixelated when those two are involved.

What I don’t understand is why was I born if life were only here to crush me? I feel my chest taking in air & the pain engulfs me. Something punches my body while I sleep. It feels like I lose every battle on any night they’re out to batter me. Who “they” are, I would conjecture they are “EVIL” & belong to the deepest Blackness where demons hide out in the Dark. I was born Good & it has always been necessary to try to destroy that strong element inside of me. But I am a fighter with a strength coming from the Unknown, which seems to want me to win the battle. All of the Battles, even if it feels like I have already lost & resigned.

Can’t wait to see your face looking back at me. I need to see your eyes. They give me strength & kindness. I need to be close to you & want you to hold me. Make me a promise, never to let me go.

Time for Group Therapy. We are talking about what we Feel is Real Today. What the Fuck is Real? It doesn’t exist. Reality. It is what is the Illusion. Fantasy & Imagination Are the True World while We Are Awake. HELL is where We Live when We Trip through Our Own Private Dreams. The Theory that the World Is Watching Is Only A Way To Jerk the Trolls of Nightmares Around into Believing in the Fake Reality. The One that Is Presented to Us through the Faux Media. It Is All A Manipulated Illusionary Perception We Are Meant To Believe In.

I will leave that last thought with you to Ponder. Maybe she [Me] has lost her mind somewhere in the swamp of Hell & Fire.

Don’t worry I am still here somewhere inside of my own mind.

Will write more soon.

Just How Many More Days Do I Have To Count Until I Am Released From My Own Private Prison?

Love Fondly,

Madison

@>-;–

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

5 photo of white rose with red framed in blue

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

negative of le chateau de rocher by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play.
Pretending is imagined possibility”
— Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Moments #62 “Act Natural Be GAY”

private moments in paintings & poetryPrivate Moments #62“Act Natural Be GAY”
Poem Written for Private Writings: Chapter #62 – “Act Natural Be GAY”
Written by Jennifer Kiley

Post Monday 19th May 2014
Her Highness [the shadow] Immortalized by Jk McCormack

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~ (1563-1631)

Wet 029

Her Holiness [the shadow] Immortalized - jk mccormack (c) jkm 2008

hands reaching out into rain

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is to be loved and to love in return”
- Moulin Rouge – Baz Luhrman

“Act Natural Be GAY”
By Madison Taylor
11th November 2008

It is natural for me to be a lesbian
Women are so attractive
In a way that men lack the spark
Men can be so beautiful
I admire their beauty
It just does not awaken the fire
Feeling a woman’s blaze
My hands caress her without touching
This desire does not exist for a man

The sex was expected and silently coerced
A man’s touch caused my mind to withdraw
Well ahead of the physical escape
The body is trapped in paralysis
Women draw me near but never for a man
The man’s skin is rough when it tears the skin
The feel of a woman’s flesh is smooth
Bringing out the craving for pleasure
With a man what is felt is I am a caged cat
Pacing back and forth seeking an escape
Feeling time has caught me in its spider’s web

Someday learning the force needed
To make No mean stop
Someday I will feel free to go
When No will be respected
To stop – say No and walk away
For so long it felt like a trap
No way out – in a cage with locks
With no keys to set me free

My will not my own
Does it yet belong to me
Will I ever know the feeling
To be me to be free
Or whomever I want to be
The choice should be mine
Always mine alone

Only exception should come from me
Someday I may want to surrender
Show trust with my lover implicitly
Wanting to trust she will be slow
Her hands gentle
Her lips soft and sweet
Waiting and wanting my response
Asking me what I want
What can she do to pleasure me

To say what kind of touches
I’ll feel inside of me
An exciting and frightening thought
Wanting sensations to drive me wild
Building the passion to set me free
Wanting the feelings to be
What I want them to be

To make love inside the lava flowing
Slowness building up the intensity
Let the love making come gently
Passionately growing and glowing
Giving me what I need and want to feel
Coming ever so slowly – so patiently
No force do I feel
Just letting go naturally

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Until - by James Conlee

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

“Creating is having the courage to allow the seer into the private moments of our imaginative lives.”

— jkm the secret keeper aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

*      *      *

dont be afraid to express ur sexuality fantasies poster

Remember

Do What You Love

same sex logos in framed in rainbow colors  without black frame 2


“When the Poison Is Gone a Dagger Will Do”

private moments in paintings & poetryPrivate Moments #61:
“When the Poison Is Gone a Dagger Will Do”

Post 12th May 2014
Poem Written for Private Writings:
Chapter #61- “From Me To You”
Painting - Her Holiness Immortalized by Jk McCormack

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~ (1563-1631)

Her Holiness In Stained Glass - Jk McCormack (c) jkm 2008

Her Holiness Immortalized – Jk McCormack (c) jkm 2008

hands reaching out into rain

“When the Poison Is Gone a Dagger Will Do”
by Madison Taylor
4th November 2008

When the poison is gone
A dagger will do
Love is meant to be true

As feelings are accepted
Emotions lead us toward the subjective
No rational perceptions in here

Why do we carve our hearts?
Love?
Is it really so powerful a drug?
Love?

So blindly accepting our fate
When the poison is gone
A dagger will do

Time to join my beloved
What little of life left here
What love has offered is empty

Broken in pieces
Twisted up with death
Disentangled and blasted by fire

Where do I go from here
All destroyed by delusions not clear
Losing the love I hold dear

Dreams caught us up in the wind
Always needing recreation
Beginning memories at the end

They are more alive when awakened
Careening and leaning out wide
Screaming till the end of the ride

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Lonely Is the Unknown Inside Us With No Voice - Jennifer Kiley

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”

— Jkm the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

red-heart-for mj ghost 1

*              *        *        *        *        *

Private Moments #60 — “Ain’t Gonna Make No Noise On That”

private moments in paintings & poetry
Private Moments #60: “Ain’t Gonna Make No Noise On That”

Poem by Jennifer Kiley

Painting by Jk McCormack

Post Monday 5th May 2014

Private Writings: Chapter #60 — “Black Book Screaming In The Dead of Night

Peace of My Heart (c) jkm 2008

“Peace of My Heart” (c) jkm 2008

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~
(1563-1631)

hands reaching out into rain

“Ain’t Gonna Make No Noise On That”
Poem by Madison Taylor
28th October 2008

Ain’t gonna make no noise on that
Relief when they leave
Before it would mean
I would have to go

Makes continuing lighter
Painful to the center
But if a knife crosses my flesh
What have I gained

If I lose my life
I still will maintain
My soul will remain
Needing confession

Finding someone understanding
Getting love goes beyond sex
Friendship is essential
It should be long lasting

The soul’s energy transcends
A renewed life cleanses
Breaking away from distractions
Of evil whisperings

Confusions in communications
Where Truth’s are lies
To mask the face
In blurred lines disguise

Not blowing up value
Attractions coming at me
Breaking my boundary field
Out of their necessity

But what do they want
I am not trained
In giving blessings
To those who drain my blood

They are quenched
I am dying from thirst
My love has been taken from me
Leaving an essence of shock

Having not seen the deception
Why would assumptions
Raise the doubts of sincerity
When others’ lies deceive me

Honesty awakens vulnerability
If I feel what is real
Coming from my reaction
Treachery was exacting

Starting over looking at stars
Their existence over a million times
Since I viewed their rainbow connections
Time is relative to my speed of life

Until life is over
The body I live in
Borrowed to use its benefit
To guide my length of life

The experiences are free choice
Unless I am murdered
Before I assume it’s time
The ending comes in its moment

What happens when meeting death?
My mind soul & heart leaves
May travel may rest until a sign
Presents to me my new adventure

It seems creation is someone’s adventure
Heightens my senses til next assignment
So go with the flow listen for the muse
Making Her efforts to give great guidance

Around & around I go
Recycling old thoughts
Creating an original observation
While continuing my journey toward Immortality

Pursuing my dreams symbolic meanings
Working on transcribing blazing enigmas
Assuming answers are what I think I need
When the secret is our pursuit of the union in One

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

“Love Takes Over” - Kelly Rowland – Created by David Guetta

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p “Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”
— JkM the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

Creative Musings: A Short Story with a Long Ending

creative musings [dragon]

A Short Story with a Long Ending
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Minor – A Short Film
Post Created by Jennifer Kiley
Created 27th March 2014
Posted on Saturday 3rd May 2014
CREATIVE MUSINGS

for the fullest amazement & delight
open up video to full screen
watch & listen to the magnificent musician
she plays her heart from the light within
magical mystical astonishing visual dreamings
the music carries on through the mystification
once through do listen again
below is the short story with a long ending
but it is not as long as most long endings
it is a matter of the relative space
in the moment
it is a delicate story
read ever so slowly
ever so lightly
let the mind drift onto the images
and sensations
dream into the music
and out into the story
as long as it all lasts.

Minor – Janine Jansen

A Short Story With A Long Ending
by Jennifer Kiley

The rain had stopped.

I sat on a wooden bench under the red-leafed branches of the old maple tree.

The water had washed the air of all scents. What remained? The fresh smell of neutrality which cleansed the open area in the park.

She missed it. The young woman I was waiting excitedly to meet. I was a half hour late.

Would she leave realizing the importance of our making contact today?

Now.

I see her coming.

A smile is starting but I hesitate.

In slow motion, moments of an embrace lead into a kiss I feel will last forever. My death would come at the end of our lips melting into one.

But that moment will never come.

And time will be still until the ending of eternity.

En fin!!! © Jkm 2014

*       *       *       *       *       *       *

Private Writings: Chapter #59 — It’s the Only Picture I Have

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #59 – It’s the Only Picture I Have

Written by Jennifer Kiley

Posted On Tuesday 29th April 2014

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

I am the storyteller
using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts
to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss
but to most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #59 — It’s the Only Picture I Have

[Starting the Sixth Week of Being Inside Redcliff Psychiatric Institute...]

Tuesday 21st October 2008

Dear Annie,

I want to think about Tosh this week. She has been with me. Guiding me, as an angel, one of my Guardian Angels. I am sending you a photograph of her. It’s the only picture I have. Nothing taken while we were together. I always saw us as together, once we decided to live together. I was too insecure to leave my home at the Chateau. It was given to me by my grandmother. Unless I am confusing myself with Carter McLeod. Thinking about Jamie. Can’t think about her. Maybe Tosh is here for me. I was meant to crossover. Jamie scared her away.

Look at Tosh’s photo. Her blue eyes see inside of me when I look at her. There is an immediate connection. This person in the photograph is the ghost who is talking to me. Tosh is younger now as a ghost than she was when the two of us first met. Oops. Did I write that a ghost is talking to me? I meant I am talking to a ghost. The reason I know she looks exactly like the photo, I saw her in the mirror one night before I was taken here. It was so brief. Nothing was said. I just remembered her photograph. Now we talk. I talk. Tell her stories. Talk about feelings. Life. Death. Her murder. Tosh told me it was her ex. She belonged to a coven who practiced the Black Arts, and  worshiped Satan, the fallen angel, the bringer of darkness into the world, causing Evil to spread like an infection.

[omit the following from letter to Annie. i feel kind of crazy talking about evil and ghosts. when i actually do talk to a ghost and have been for awhile now. they seem to feel safe around me. but feeling Tosh being close to me makes me feel less alone. some people can handle being alone. i love it when i'm writing or painting. or just doing something i am engrossed in. but if i start feeling scottie being gone. i miss her every moment she is away. even when she has to spend the day on a set near home, at the studio. i don't understand why i use to freak out when i had to sleep by myself. maybe scottie being away so much makes it easier for me to stay up all night. when it's dark everyone feels like they are asleep to me and sometimes it feels like everyone has abandoned the planet or the universe, a feeling like everyone is gone. they've all vanished. no one else exists.

my life has felt like being in a desert with no water or anything in sight except sand. i starved. that was punishment. whips were used for punishment too. she hated me. hated i was born. her husband. my father. she was jealous of him with me. she didn't like him around me. i look back and wonder if she was jealous because she wanted me as her slave in all things physical. it meant eating. it meant sleeping. they yelled through my nightmares of sleepless nights. she denied me food as punishment. and forced me to eat food i hated which tasted sickening. i would gag on it. i was deprived of sleep until i ate the shit she placed on the plate in front of me. i wasn't allowed sleep until every bit of shit was eaten off of those plates. when it came to actual physical contact with punishment, it was a scene set in the home of the Marquis De Sade. she has her own torture slash sex chamber.

do you think i will ever be able to say this out loud to you annie? you don't need those images inside your mind. i don't want them in mine either. i will have to keep creating my paintings that are possessed by demons. i see their faces. i wonder if they will look anything like the dark creatures someday. it always makes me think of the movie "ghost." the dark shadows pull evil spirits into the ground, into the darkness.

i don't think if you kill yourself that they would come for you. unless you were adolf hitler. i am sure he has a special place just for him - in torturous solitary for eternity. 

back to suicide. you know, when i was trying to commit suicide, it was not to be with tosh specifically, it was to cut out the memories of vile creatures using my body for their perversions. sylvia was exactly like the shadow in my childhood. the one who tried to kill me before i was born. when it didn't work, she used me as her slave for every evil devotion she desired. i will never ever be able to forget what she did and others did.  i won't forget what i do remember. but will i remember what i have forgotten? is it essential is it essential for healing? to clean out the disgust from the wounds that are more mental, but that's not true. the wounds are from everywhere. my body. my mind. my soul. my emotions. they were all attacked. those unconscious memories cannot be removed.

i will never be able to talk about those things out loud. i'd rather tell you I am attracted to you annie, than to fill your mind with the pain from my darkness. a darkness that wants me dead and jailed in hell. i feel attracted to you and i am not allowed to tell you. i would rather feel those sensations than remember what a whip felt like on my back or breasts, tearing at the flesh, causing it to bleed. does anyone know what it feels like to have someone who discarded you from their body as a baby girl, turn on you before your birth and begins after your birth to torture you for being born a girl and being born to her, when all she wanted was males. i was meant to be aborted when she threw herself down the stairs. instead i was born late and she discarded me from her life for my first year to live with my grandmother. it was temporary. my father wanted me home. that's when hell began and heaven was left in the garden where i have minimal visitation rights. this is too painful to be in this state of mine and to have her come back haunting me in my memories. i want to be with tosh now but i need to be held by a warm giving body. end of secrets]

Annie, I need you. Please, I want to see you. Your hugs are most needed at this moment. They are what cure me, a little at a time. I don’t want anyone else to hold me. It feels all wrong somehow. You don’t like me to tell you how I feel. Someday you will have to tell me why you shut me down from speaking about my feelings for you. When I can’t see you, it drives me mad. I go through withdrawal. My need for you is high. No one makes me feel safe the way you do. I could never live without you. I wouldn’t want to. If I ever lost you, I would want to die more than I do now.

Your letter from me this week is a touch short. I have been spending time with Helen. She has some of the most amazing stories to tell. The only thing that doesn’t work is she can’t remember who she is or where she is. She just wants to sit quietly most of the time but when I talk to her and sometimes I have Lynne join us, she will begin a new story, like her life depended on it. She is Scheherazade reborn. Lynne listened and I think she likes Helen. Doesn’t feel threatened by her or by me. I’m not sure why she trusts me and no one else. I don’t push her to talk. She likes to just sit next to me, really close but never quite touching. I think that works for both of us.

I don’t feel so alone in here with these two and one of the night nurses, who is great to me. She will sometimes come into my room, and if I am having trouble falling asleep, she will actually read me children’s books. My favorite is Maurice Sendak’s “Where the Wild Things Are.” Got hooked on that when a former therapist made me an audio tape of her reading this story and a few others. She gave the tape to me just before she took her month long vacation. Same time every year. I would freak when she left. Her voice on tape always soothed me. We recorded our sessions and now,  I got Dr. Seuss, “Horton Hears A Who,” and “Goodnight Moon” as part of the gift. Her young son even read some of the parts. That was way cool to me.

With those words, I am going to warm up a bit. Writing this letter has made me feel a chill. Like someone walked over someone else’s grave. Sending this email. It’s quicker. Think of Love. You will be getting my poem in the outgoing email. One of the rules on computer usage. Ciao Ciao.

Love Fondly,

Madison

ps. I need to add, Love is true when joined together by the heart and soul. I feel joined to Tosh. I feel joined to Scottie. I feel joined to you, Annie. I do feel joined to Jamie, too. Alison is my daughter, and I love her with as deep a love as the heart and soul feel. Such different shades of love. The degrees of intimacies as they are acted upon with different people. It is all love but everyone shares differently. Love and Happiness are living in a room without a roof in order to look up at the blue sky in daylight and the night sky filled with stars sparkling and the moon in its different stages every night. When I look at that sky I know all those I love will feel the connection when they look up. We are not alone. My feelings for you are growing and becoming more intense. I’m not usually crazy enough to tell you any of this. Au revoir.  pps. One last exciting thing, I started working on my new play for the theatre. Scottie is cool with that move. She has my new screenplay finished before all this shit came down. I already know the name of my protagonist and all the other characters having lines and good roles. Shouldn’t be a need for extras, I don’t think. Well, maybe in the background of certain scenes, depending on where they take place. Now I am stopping.

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

blue eyed young woman tears falling slowly down cheek

Tosh seven [7] years before I first saw her. We would have been close friends if we had met back when this photograph was taken. We would have found a way to bring our worlds together. We were destined souls. She is as much a part of me as I am a part of her. Our souls are mates.

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

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

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Do Not Leave Me In This Dark Alone

cinematic catharsis a touching awakening

Do Not Leave Me In This Dark Alone
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Created 21st March 2014
Post Friday 11th April 2014
CINEMATIC CATHARSIS
[A Touching Awakening]

Lovers Last Scene – Wuthering Heights [1939]

Cathy’s heart is broken and filled with sorrow. She has no will to live. To feel such a powerful love that only death will end her longings and quiet her broken heart. She did it to herself by breaking Heathcliff’s heart first, then abandoning him for propriety, to live in her virtuous life of dullness. This leads her to marry Linton [David Niven]and the abandonment of her soul when she leaves Heathcliff behind. The life she chooses instead is one that is hollow. Her dreams were broken with her heart.

At the end for Cathy, Heathcliff arrives at her death bed to say goodbye. They share a loving moment before she dies in Heathcliff’s arms, as he holds her up at the window. Linton, the doctor and her nursemaid arrive as Heathcliff carries Cathy’s lifeless body back to her bed. He kneels to say goodbye. He stands as he then curses her. The words just below, Heathcliff proclaims over Cathy’s dead body. He wants Cathy to haunt him. Asks her, how he can live without his heart and his soul. That is what Cathy is to him and Heathcliff was to her.

Heathcliff: “Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest so long as I live on! I killed you. Haunt me, then! Haunt your murderer! I know that ghosts have wandered on the Earth. Be with me always. Take any form, drive me mad, only do not leave me in this dark alone where I cannot find you. I cannot live without my life! I cannot die without my soul.”

The following video is Cathy’s Theme from the film Wuthering Heights. The music and the still photos from the film will give you a small sense of how moving and powerful are the emotions that fill the story of Heathcliff and Cathy Earnshaw. Their love was meant to be and Cathy does not forget that but is mesmerized by the image of her life lived with Linton. So Cathy abandons her true love and true life for one filled with dilettantes and vaporous people. She breaks her own heart and causes her life to weaken from lack of what fills her life with love and reason for life, Heathcliff.

Wuthering Heights – Cathy’s Theme – Alfred Newman [1939]