“Artifact” My Biography – Joshua Snow

white dragon jr snow facing to rightI would like to mark the
13th of July 2014 as the date I formally Introduced
J.R. Snow, a young emerging writer. For the past
three Sundays, he has been our Guest Artist and
his work, in the form of a three part short
story, has been presented here on
‘the secret keeper.’
Thank You Joshua
Jennifer Kiley
jkm

white dragon jr snow

Now it is time for the writer to come out from
behind his worded mask of storytelling and
talk to us about himself and his aspirations.
The following is J.R.’s
introduction of himself
in his own words.
Thank you ALL. Now I
give you - J.R. Snow

 

Artifact
My Biography

Joshua Snow

“Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” – Roald Dahl

There are a lot of things I wish to say in this, things I wish to express and explain, but words can only describe so much. My name is Joshua Snow. If you’re a Game of Thrones fan like me, you probably already caught onto the fact that my last name is Snow and you know what it means. Yes, I have been told that I know nothing. (Another Game of Thrones reference) However, people are just trying to be funny rather than rude. Besides that, allow me to introduce myself.

Dragon Spirit for j.r. snow bioI live in Texas, a very big place deep in the south. Within this very big state I live in Houston. To put it bluntly, I do not like it here. Its too hot, not enough forest and mountains, and the winters are too short. I plan to move up north someday to some place I feel like I belong. I am 19 and I will be turning 20 this year in August. I am currently enrolled in college classes for the first time and will be starting June 2nd. A lot of change is coming my way, and for the most part, it has been scary to feel.

Now I bet you’re all wondering, “What is a child like me doing talking about myself?” Well, besides what I just told you, I am a writer. A creator. A daydreamer. My mind is always somewhere. I was always that kid in class caught with his head up in the clouds. Even my principal said so when I graduated high school.

I’m fascinated with anything magical, and most of all, anything having to do with dragons. Dragons to me are the most wonderful beings in the world. I read about them as a kid and I have dragon décor all over my room. I have a Celtic dragon flag that’s rather large, a dragon poster by the wonderful artist Christina Yen, a dragon clock, dragon books, Dragon’s Blood incense, (I promise its not really made of dragon’s blood) dragon pendants and a dragon incense holder as well as a box with a dragon laying on it. I’m pretty sure that’s all of it. Dragons are like family to me and I strongly believe they are my guardian angels. I’ve dreamed about them a lot too and I’ve had a lot of dreams of flying. I get a running start and I just leap off my own two feet and fly. There was one particular dream where I was flying with a lot of dragons and a green one stood out to me.

Awesome dragon Poster facing rightI’ve been working on a big fantasy story for the past three years now. I’ve rewritten it a lot of times, and combining all those rewrites, I don’t doubt in my mind I’d go up to 300-400 pages. The characters are probably the closest part to perfect out of the whole story. The plot is still in motion and being worked out in detail and I also drew a map of the world.

I’ve planned for this to be a series of books. I designed the characters via a certain video game where I was allowed to create my own fighter and I designed them through that. I created eighty-two characters until I found the very few I desired. Out of all of those, the few I kept are probably six or seven. My most precious character I created is a Seraphina, a dragon who can transform into a woman with long, white hair and keeps the beautiful blue eyes I gave her. She’s the last one who carries the power of old magic inside her, magic that no longer exists in the world.

In the world I created, magic is dying. Other species like elves no longer exist, and dragons and humans are the only ones known to be alive. However, humans can use magic as well. There are witches and mages, good and evil. I never liked the idea that witches and wizards were all evil anyway. I found it to be tasteless and narrow minded. Also, in the world, there is a war going on. It is a private war, one that is hidden from public knowledge. No one is aware of but those involved. I do have deeper details but I do not wish to spoil. I hate spoilers myself. The entire series is inspired by the idea that despite all of cruelty, corruption and darkness in the world, there is always a chance for happiness. There is such a thing as a happy ending. Its just that not everyone gets one, and those who do get one are blessed. Not everyone gets a happy ending, sadly, for everyone who deserved one.

dragon white looking left into the sea while sitting on a ledgeAs for magical things, I do believe there is some sort of magic in the world. From what I’ve felt and seen, I can’t doubt it. I can no longer think it’s as simple as science and logic. I had a friend once who told me the reason spiritual things were still around was because you can’t prove them wrong because that individual believes it so much, so it carries on, and you can’t prove them right because there’s no physical proof or evidence to show to people. If I believe in a so-called god, I cannot call this so called god and have you meet him in person. I cannot show you a spirit of a dead person or show you a dragon or something magical with my own hands. His logic and reasoning were very interesting, and he actually offered to hear my opinions and to tell me if I was wrong, but I decided not to.

All I know, and believe, is that there is something in matters of spirit and magic. And through things I wish to write like a short story or this big fantasy story I spoke of, I wish to share that. I believe magic breathes through everything, I believe in different dimensions, spirits, souls, guardian angels, and past lives. I believe everything has a life and a spirit and a name. Everything is like a little artifact. It has its own identity, meaning, and its come from something. Everything has an origin. Everything comes to us for a reason. That’s what I ultimately believe. Everything happens for a reason.

joshua snow 9th june 2014
 

If you want to contact

Author J.R. Snow
[Joshua Snow]

Please Use Contact Windows

Below Music Video

hand letting go of golden flecks gif


Evanescence - Together Again

Please Feel Free To Contact Joshua Snow. Fill Out The Windows Below With Questions &/or Comments. They will be forwarded to Joshua.

Thank you.   jkm the secret keeper

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

Private Writings: Chapter #67 – “Twisting Inside Shouting Out Loud”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]“Twisting Inside Shouting Out Loud”
Private Writings #67
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 24th June 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

1 alice-down-the-rabbithole [use best one]

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 #67 “Twisting Inside Shouting Out Loud”

Tuesday 16th December 2008

Dear Annie,

If I don’t know who I am, how will I know what I should do?

I have been writing non-stop except for sleep, creating a variety of ideas for my play. I’m rather exhausted. But can’t stop needing to create.

I have been having these phrases popping up inside my head. I finally wrote them down on a blank page on WORD. I am going to use them as the beginning of a scene.

I have to believe I am not going to grow old inside this weird mind melting place. Just wiser and I will only allow them to take a touch of my madness. I will need and use the rest for myself.

I think I am about to write you one of my more in sane letters, much more in sane.

I found a bloody good twist for the play. “Far more things occur in dark spaces and from the other side than we are aware of.” My own quote, made it up just now. Play on one of Shakespeare’s lines. Did a few modifications.

It keeps me up late, thinking about my play. I want to find the exact words & to keep my characters to as few lines as possible & still contain what my story is meant to be. What it is that I am trying to say with all the words I give the actors.

I was searching for songs last night to inspire me. Listened to great stuff & found the pieces of music I was looking for. One song stood out. I listened to it repeatedly. Doing that takes me to the zone. It lifts me up and gives my subconscious something to work out for me, and when the Muse is ready, she feeds me what I am going to do.

The play is meant to be about love – the strongest most powerful energy in the universe. It is also about love that is going to slip away. Knowing it is going to happen before anyone else does, even the person it is going to happen to.

How would you like to have that ability? The power to know things before they happen to other people. My play has an element of that contained within it. Don’t want to give too much a way. You have to see it performed on stage to find out what happens. This is only the second process I am in now. Living life was the first. The second is fictionalizing my experiences with what I’ve learned from living. There is a third & eventually a sequel which will lead me into the fourth part, writing the screenplay. That may end the process or open up into another world.

I may be sounding vague but I like to be a mystery. Mysterious. It is what keeps me alive – wondering & trying to understand what is inside what we don’t know or ever will know while we are mortal.

Since I am mortal, I would like to ask the question Why. Why am I talking to ghosts and they are returning their side of the conversation. I may think a long time before I decide whether you will ever see any of this letter. I will be honest just the same.

I see dead people. I use to say I saw dead people when I was asleep. But now they have decided to visit me when I am trying to get back my sanity. After my group sessions or after I’ve met with Dr. V. They even interrupt me when I am writing to you. Tosh may not know you but Angie sure does. She has been hanging around you until she found me & Dr. George.

I need sleep, so I am going to finish this letter tomorrow, unless I wake up in the middle of the night. Sleeping here without my weed is making my insomnia unbearable. When I do sleep it is just tossing the covers all over. When my eyes open in an attempt to view the world to see if it is still here, I find myself completely twisted up in the covers like I was playing B & D.

Chin Chin Annie. I will think of you as I try to fall asleep. Your face will calm me. If I hear your voice, it would just add to my calmness.

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

Le Chateau de Rocher - Home to Madison & Scottie   Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

Le 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 Writings: Chapter #66 – “Hello Goodbye”

private writings a novel of true fantasy by jennifer kiley [shawn's 2d blue name]
“I Said Hello You Said Goodbye”
Private Writings #66
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 17th June 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
Not Suitable For Children.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

1 alice-down-the-rabbithole [use best one]

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 #66 “Hello Goodbye”

Tuesday 9th December 2008

Dear Annie,

I saw her. When she was dying. My mind was a slideshow of still images very much alive inside the time slip in my head. All the smashing sounds crashing against the darkness I fell into while the car fell out of control, taken out by the chaos and collision theory. Hurdling through the air, tumbling forever until the silence caught hold and brought all actions under control and stopped them. Inside me, the echo was shouting out, “you’re dead.” In a split second, my mind focused on Tosh. I called out her name. No response. The darkness fought me but I pushed back with kicking and struggling to free myself from the hands of death and the clutches of this smashed, small, pushed in sports car, holding us captive.

Once free of my car, now upside down and still, as fast as I was able, I found myself on the driver’s side of the car. Tosh loved my racing green MG. Her first negotiation with me, in front of an audience of lesbians, and our very first time being together, as we stood close enough for me to feel the warmth of her breath on my face, we were out in the parking lot of ‘The River,’ a Gay Dance Bar. She asked if she could drive my MG. With courage and no expectation, I said I would make a deal. “If you give me a kiss, I will give you her keys. And wherever you want to go that will be our destination.”

She never hesitated as her lips approached my face and lightly touched my mouth. Her kiss was the sweetest and longest kiss I ever experienced and loved more than anything else that ever happened in my life until that moment. I want to feel those sensations and that newness and intimacy again.

While I was having these flashes of memory, weird shit began happening at Redcliff. First the paper I was writing a note on blew away, pulled with force, right out from under my hands. Then I started feeling weird inside. My skin felt goose bumps. The flesh felt the warmth of a sensation touching me. How do sensations touch you? I cannot explain, except to say, I felt charged with a powerful energy. It was unlike anything that ever touched me and it was invisible.

I became distracted away from the feelings when the book I had been reading earlier flew off the table from where I placed it.

The last thing, quite intimate and unusual, was the scent that washed clean the air. It was strong and familiar. I was certain it was “Sophia,” a perfume I use to wear. And I remembered the same sensual smell when Tosh and I kissed on my dare, a kiss for a key.

How do I explain what it feels like when a kiss melts every body part into one. One merges with the other person. I am certain it is as different as snowflakes. I miss the fact, we never shared a warm fire during a snow fall. We did have the changing of Spring into Summer. The greening and the flowers blooming are spectacular when being in love.

I felt lifted up whenever I was near her. She electrified everyone she touched. Being in her presence heightened my senses. My Angel in waiting for the right time. Waiting for the bell to ring and the light to call. In that moment, she would earn her wings. That should have been years from then and now. As a special gift, she has returned to be my Guardian Angel. Her presence, recently, was being strongly felt. I started talking to her more recently. And No, she does not talk back to me out loud.

If she is not haunting me now, I have no idea who it could be. But then, why would Tosh want to spook me?

After thinking hard about this, the only person presently who would even want to haunt me is, do not laugh or think this idea is nuts, is our murdered group therapy member. Everyone seems to have forgotten Angie. Not me. She pissed me off when she was alive. How do you think I will feel if it turns out “she’s back” and is after me. I have to admit, I have been feeling her presence almost since the night she died.

I should say murder, even though it hasn’t been determined or come close to being confirmed. As Eliza Doolittle would say, “I think someone did her in.” Her enemies list filled the length of a mystery novel. None of what happened was natural. Her death came on too suddenly. Plus there is no cause of death. Oh, and what about Dr. George going bonkers. All of this makes my conspiratorial mind work overtime. For me it is the Conspiracy theorist’s smoking gun on the Grassy Knoll.

Angie may be here, looking for her murderer. It’s not me. But I found out by accident that Dr. George is somewhere inside Redcliff Psychiatric Institute. There have been rumors he’s in the restricted area where no one can just enter and it is hard as hell to get out of even if you don’t belong. That’s for another time.

Back to being haunted, I wish whoever they are would have the chutzpah to face me. Ghosts don’t scare me. They are probably confused about where they are or are stuck for whatever reasons. They may be trapped here. Or don’t want to let go of being here. If one doesn’t believe in anything past the moment of now, in addition to fearing the nothingness, who the Hell would want to disappear completely and stop existing at all? Not one of my favorite moments of mystery I am looking forward to finding out about.

I know I have that fear. It circles my insecurities endlessly. Not to exist any longer FREAKS THE HELL OUT OF ME. It would mean DARKNESS FOREVER. And I have a mortal fear of the Dark and I Hate the Dark, also.

Ah, Shit! A bell just sounded. It means the computers are going offline at any moment. I’m sending this now.

But one last thing I want to say and wish I had the courage to say it face to face. But since we can’t be, here it is. I miss you. I love you. I wish you could hold me & read me a cool, long story. Make the scary thoughts leave my head. Mostly, I just want to hear your voice and to feel one of your extra long hugs.

Have to go. Find me. You know where my mind would go.

Love,

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

Le Chateau de Rocher - Home to Madison & Scottie   Their Cats & daughter Alison. She has her own place on the estate

Le Chateau de Rocher – Home to Madison & Scottie
Their Cats & daughter Alison. She also 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

“Nuit Blanche” – A Short Film

i heart short films
Nuit Blanche” – A Short Film
Post Created by Jennifer Kiley
Created 12th April 2014
Posted on Friday 30th May 2014
I <3 SHORT FILMS

A MOST PASSIONATE ENCOUNTER.
SOMETHING WE MAY FANTASIZE
BUT OFTEN DO NOT TAKE THE STEP
OR CRASH FORWARD HEAD ON
GAYLY OR STRAIGHT INTO
A SPECTACULAR BRAIN BLASTING
KISS TO MAKE ALL OTHERS
PALE IN COMPARISON.

here, i give you “nuit blanche”

Nuit Blanche – from Spy Films

facebook.com/spyfilms.worldwide – Nuit Blanche explores a fleeting moment between two strangers, revealing their brief connection in a hyper real fantasy.

The making of the award winning “Nuit Blanche”

Watch the “Making of” here – vimeo.com/9076775

We Are All Mad Here – A Short Film

i heart short films
We Are All Mad Here – A Short Film
Post Created by Jennifer Kiley
Created on 27th March 2014
Posted on Friday 9th May 2014
I <3 SHORT FILMS

everyone at one time
may have heard tell
that a mad hatter existed
some place in wonderland

have lies been told about him
do the records need straightening
a visit from alice may be in order
or the march hare with his cousin
the white rabbit everyone knows for sure
all across the land above and below

being partial to the mad hatter
i give him credit for keeping non-sense
well understood or imagined

let’s take a listen to someone special
i have brought along with me today
yesterday was when i got the idea
but it is as relevant as it was before now

dream believe create

here, i give you “we are all mad here”

NICK FOUQUET – WE ARE ALL MAD HERE
from Bruno Miotto Plus 5 months ago All Audiences

Directed by Bruno Miotto
Written by Giorgio Fabbri and Bruno Miotto
Producer Guja Quaranta
Original Score “Have I Gone Mad?” composed by Alberto Bof – MKRS Publishing
Cinematography by Benjamin Kitchens
Editor: Bruno MIotto
Graphic Designer: Letizia Bozzolini

Cast
Alice: Sharon Hinnendael
Twins: Odelia Samuels and Ornela Samuels
Kids: Philips Banuelos, Yanshree Hotchandani, Brooke Krufal, Matthew Turner, Jacob Zelonky
White Rabbit: Bao Bao

“No animals were harmed in making this film, only humans.”

Sliding Doors

[Original Written for Expats Post. Will Be Published Early Monday 30th December 2013]

Sliding-Doors-1998-poster

Sliding Doors
Film Review by Jennifer Kiley
Created on 26th December 2013
Posted on Friday 27th December 2013
FILM FRIDAY

“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition” — Monty Python

What if your life split into two timelines? In one timeline, you make your morning train, the other, someone mugs you, smashes your head into a tree, a kind British taxi driver takes you to the hospital. The split completely alters the experiences of your two lives, two different synchronicities. In one reality, you get fired, in the other, you don’t make it to work. You come home early, the other, you don’t make it home until the correct amount of time later. After things at home have time to move into a different moment, creating an alternate future, causing two parallel realities.

gwynnie sliding doors blond short hair

The film, Sliding Doors, involves Helen [Gwyneth Paltrow] meeting a new man, while still living with Gerry [John Lynch], One timeline remains with Gerry, a novelist, she is supporting. He is supposed to be writing his novel. In the other timeline, things come to an abrupt conclusion.

It’s a brilliantly conceived realistic fantasy, totally believable. How it all turns out, is well worth the time put in to watching, as the two realities evolve. Ultimately, turning out an ending with a twist. The whole film is one twisted curve. The story is enchanted. You make your choices. It’s was easy for me. It makes my best and favorites list. What is not to crave and love?

Sliding Doors after helen and james meet on train

The complexity, a brilliantly written screenplay, superb acting by a fine cast. Gwyneth Paltrow [Helen] and John Hannah [James] are in top form. John Hannah is someone with whom to fall in love. He is a genuinely fine and sensitive actor. His first film that appeared outside the UK was Four Weddings and a Funeral. His reading of W.H. Auden’s Funeral Blues was an especially painful, yet tender moment.

sliding doors james in diner

John Lynch and Jeanne Tripplehorn play the jesters, though irritating characters, carry off their roles sadly, pathetically, yet comically. It is impossible not to feel these two are not exactly on your favorite characters list. But there is always a need for antagonists. And most times you don’t like them, yet can appreciate their need in the film, or where would be the negative for the positive to repel? .

Lydia [Jeanne Tripplehorn] is a tremendous pain and cruel to boot. Gerry [John Lynch], the man Helen lives with is a ball-less, unfaithful, pathetic jerk. These are my truthful prejudices.

Sliding-Doors-john-hannah gwyneth

In the timeline, where Helen gets to know James life and becomes an integral part. This is the life I enjoy watching develop the most. If you decide to watch the film Sliding Doors, and I highly recommend it, you will be following a journey through regrouping and beginning your life from the start again. The alternate timelines are living inside of a blindness to what is happening around them.

sliding-doors helen james in diner h having milkshake

Movie Connections: Sliding Doors — John Hannah [James]

Altering time is fascinating. Watching new possibilities grow, while you are living your life as it was given to you. At the same exact time being given a new life while the old life continues in an almost similar direction, just arriving separately.

The ending, I won’t even go anywhere near what happens there. I do recommend “you start at the beginning until you come to the end, then stop.” —Lewis Carroll. It is well worth the journey. Without telling you the culmination of the story, I will say it is imaginative.

Sliding Doors is fascinating to watch. Curious how it makes you feel. You will route for Helen all the way, but which one? What will you think of James? He has his secrets as well. There are secrets everywhere. Characters you just don’t like. Maybe I am being too judgmental but some behaviors are really not honorable.

sliding doors james helen sitting on train first meeting

Sliding Doors is definitely about love. Real love. I am not sure if Gerry knows what he feels. You, as the audience, decide that conclusion. I am not enamored of him. Where my allegiances lie, I haven’t hidden. But my letting that out will not give you any idea what this story is trying to share. Feeling love and caring and knowing when you see it and feel it.

I keep returning to the ending. It surprised me the first time I watched Sliding Doors. It may surprise everyone who watches it. The creativity of the mind who created this story, must be very fertile. I love when someone writes something so different. Something one has not seen in a film before. An original concept, playing with time, in the way Sliding Doors plays it through.

slidingdoors helen at closed train doors

Anyone who likes imagination, thinking, going with the possibilities, being able to expect the unusual and to be able to accept the unique, will love Sliding Doors.

It is a film one can watch more than once. Why? Some films create such ponderings in the mind one needs a dose of their originality to sooth the soul and to believe in the genius of originality. It still truly exists in a world of film on the edge of losing its ability to create plenty of room for new ideas. They sneak in here or there.

Sliding Doors is made for the romantic as well as the psychologically prone individual. The interaction between Helen and James is an invitation to see how feelings slowly develop within a natural growth. The depth of love and feelings are real and should not chase away the male viewer. It is a thinking person’s film. Don’t be afraid of the romance.sliding doors helen short blond hair looking in from the sidewalk

The other side of the film is either funny or irritating but in a way that holds the viewer’s attention. For me, I just want to slap some sense into Lydia and Gerry. He is an ass and she is not much higher on the evolutionary ladder.

I prize this film. Obviously, the parts that are irritating would accentuate after you’ve watched this film often enough. Even so, the rest of the film is well worth viewing as often as possible.

The two Helens are reacting so differently and anyone near her lives are different, also. Everyone has to change their perspective on what is real. Keeping them organized is not complicated, instead it is a curious experience to see the different performances.

One more film on my list of films I watch whenever I find the time. It is, to me, like looking into a great work of art, each view you see more deeply into what your senses are perceiving. Each perception brings on different feelings and reactions on other sense levels. Losing myself in the art is a love affair. Losing may not be the most accurate word, pleasure is more succinct. There is emotional pleasure and an indescribable response in experiencing art.

james holding helen

For me, film can most assuredly be considered art. It has such an availability of ranges, in which to explore the mind, the imagination, to express emotions, thoughts, concepts, ideas, non-sense, and a letting go of creativity. To develop a conversation, acting out a concept, to see where it will lead in opening one’s mind to something deeper or new.

Sliding Doors is this film. It is art. It creates a possibility of fantasy, which could hold a particle of truth within its idea of playing with time.

sliding_doors_helen 1st reality

“Always look on the bright side of life.” I love the mentions of Monty Python. What they say and do in their work, mostly non-sense, is filled with humor and ridiculosity.

Sliding Doors asks you to suspend your concept of reality, step into a moment of fantasy and allow that to have possibilities. Go with where it takes you. Accept its consequences.

“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition” — Monty Python

Sliding Doors Trailer

Sliding Doors
Cast:
Helen: Gwyneth Paltrow
James: John Hannah
Gerry: John Lynch
Lydia: Jeanne Tripplehorn

Directed & Written by Peter Howitt [Antitrust with Ryan Philippe, Tim Robbins, and Rachel Leigh Cook. An extreme thriller in the intrigue of super-computers, programmers, inventive ideas, murder, and an exciting film to watch. Edge of the seat philosophy film-making. One I shall watch again really soon & highly recommend for the film viewer who wants excitement with their popcorn. Eat slowly so you don’t choke. Available Free through Redbox Subscription using Roku. Will review in near Future].

Year: [1998]
99m R
Available Presently [26th Dec. 2013]
Amazon Instant Video or Purchase Amazon.com

THE END

Private Writings: Chapter #32 — The High and the Flighty

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #32 — The High and the Flighty

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 29th October 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:

I am writing to Dr. Annie Haskell. My form of storytelling is through
letters containing dreams, thoughts, poems, music, describing my script
“Brief Sacrifice,” already made into a film but not yet released, psycho-
therapy, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner workings of the mind,
soul, body, emotions, and bipolar. I prefer mentally creative, interesting, or
having a brain misfiring. Included in the mix are childhood abuse, car crashes,
near drownings, drugs [the illegal kind at present], hallucinations, hypersexuality,
time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuation, imagination, fantasy,
and a need to discover my bliss.

See you inside.
Namaste! Madison Taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #32 — The High and the Flighty

Tuesday, 22nd April 2008

Dear Annie,

Ever since I gave you my first letter to read, I am suddenly having visual dreams I remember. And the symbols in my dreams would make any Jungian jump for joy. I wonder what they would say to my dream. I’d like to tell you about it in our session. I wrote it down the way I remembered it.

It opened inside my dead parents’ house, they are very much present, It is time to walk the dog, so it seems it is up to me. Once I am outside, in the side yard, watching dog, I look through the window into the neighbor’s house. What I see at first is two women, they are physically close, but carefully trying to hide their attraction to the other. Whenever anyone else appears they break away from their closeness. A young man appears at the open door. They quickly move away from the other and start talking, like what I saw never ever happened. As soon as he disappeared, they carefully returned to their former positions of almost touching. When I finally look away, I realize it is time to take the dog back inside. [Did I mention the dog looked exactly like the Cairn terrier, Toto, from the Wizard of OZ?] As I turn to approach the house, I see there is a really large parakeet walking around near where I am heading toward the side door to go back in with the dog. This bird, I notice, has the most beautiful long feathers, a light color. When I say large, she is only 1/3 smaller than I am. She, also, is acting very shy. I would add by saying she is wondering whether she could trust me & also, was it safe to go into the house. With the animals on the steps, I go to open the door to let us all inside. At that very moment, Scottie wakes me up.

I really want you to interpret it at our next appointment on Tuesday. It is amazing that ever since I let myself be vulnerable to you, by sharing my other letters I wrote before we started therapy, I am starting to have really vivid dreams. But even more significant, I am taken back to my home when I was a kid, which no longer exists & I already told you my parents are gone, gone, gone, just like the home my family lived in. [It really was torn down & the buyer rebuilt something even larger].

I’d like to talk to you, also, about how this dream made me feel. One feeling I get from it is, why am I seeing lesbians, or better yet, why am I watching through the neighbor’s window. I never do things like that. I think maybe inside my dream I must have been daydreaming. Maybe the thought of seeing Jonathan Stephens for the first time has me thinking about what we will look like to one another. It is a shock to have someone see me. I don’t like seeing me most of the time. Jonathan & I have been writing & Skyping with each other for years. Just not using video. We met in some gay-lesbian chat room many years ago. Usually, men talked to men and women talked to other women. Sexes who were attracted to the same sex didn’t seem too interested in the opposite sex. A lot of women, including myself, went through a phase of not thinking men had anything particularly of value to offer. If you think about it, if women could get pregnant by parthenogenesis & didn’t need sperm, how long do you feel the human race wouldn’t slowly make a male chromosome a recessive gene? Men would just fade away.

Do I think that way? No, otherwise Jonathan wouldn’t be my best friend forever. He is a fantastic artist. We share a great deal in common. We both were injured in car accidents & broke our necks. His was discovered at the scene of his accident & he was put into traction right away. Mine wasn’t discovered until years later. Fortunately, the hospital was smart enough to have me wear a neck brace & I was smart enough never to take it off, except to take quick showers. I didn’t like taking it off. When I did my neck hurt like hell. My break was only discovered when several years later I started losing the use of the right side of my upper body. It started with my neck & shoulders. I had such intense pain & weakness. It, eventually, worked its way down into my right hand. The pain was making it impossible to write with my right hand or raise my right arm.

My doctor sent me to a specialist. I told him the pain was paralyzing. The doctor ordered some x-rays and an MRI. He discovered a healed over fracture in my third and fourth neck vertebrae. It was, as he described it, a broken neck, I think to scare me, he told me if I ever had just a slightly overzealous neck adjustment, I could have easily become paralyzed from the neck down. He scheduled surgery immediately. It was to relieve the pain & pressure on the nerve endings in my neck. He removed a disc which were causing the vertebrae to smother & pinch the nerve endings, cutting off any communication with the nerves travelling down my right arm to my right hand & to make the pain go away, I had a plate put in my neck & lost a disc. I feel pretty good considering what the alternative might have been thanks to the hospital I went to after that terrible accident. A lot happened in that accident, I am not ready to talk about yet. I did write about it in one of my previous letters to you. But it will come up when it is the right time.

I wanted your help in preparing to meet someone I know like I know myself but don’t things change when you meet someone in person. They are really strangers. I’m afraid after Jonathan meets me, it will kill our friendship & forever will turn into never again.

I know we should be really talking about getting me on the plane that will take Scottie and I to Paris, France. Otherwise, there really isn’t a need for discussion of anything that is coming ahead. Next week is the cast-a-way party, where crew & cast meet all around. Hunter Marx is sure to be the center of attention. She always is these days.

I want the script I wrote for our film, “Touch of the Spirit” to really work. Scottie wants me there for luck & for company. Also, it won’t hurt in case there is a need for rewrites & there always are, Nothing can be completely seen as it is going to come off on film. You told me today, you were going to supply me with some major pills to take long before liftoff. They will make me sleep the whole flight. But what if there is a delay? Or someone does something wrong? And what about missing our wonderful babies, our little Toker, Mikey & Patrick? I know a friend is going to be house sitting. That will make the boys happy but they will miss our snuggles at night & during our time in the evening when we all crash in front of the HD & watch films & veg out.

I do have the schedule for our Skype sessions, which is great, It makes me so happy you were able to work that out. It will be in your evening & my nighttime. You are so accommodating my schedule. You don’t know how much this means to me. If I lost contact with you, I don’t know how crazy I would get on Scottie. Plus, we don’t know how Hunter Marx is going to behave having Scottie around her again. She may take another round of trying to seduce my woman. She hates it when I say that or even joke about it. She doesn’t realize how insecure that makes me feel. I really wish she would say yes to marry me once same-sex marriage becomes legal. I did get her to accept my proposal when we are old & ready to walk over into the light.

There is something I wanted to tell you. Something, a feeling, it has made me feel extremely shy when I think about talking to you about it. When I first looked at you. The first session in the women’s group, when you started co-leading. That was a joke. He never let you unless he was gone. Don’t want to go there. Let him stay living locked up in a safe room at the local hospital for the criminally insane. But I said, I don’t want to go there. Where I want to go is to tell you how it made me feel when I returned to group after my cancer treatment, still in an exhaustive state. Really too weak to drive, but I did it anyway. I just had to get out of the house & go someplace where I hadn’t been in almost a whole year.

When I walked into the therapy room that day, the first thing I did was make eye contact with you. I wasn’t surprised you were there but I had no idea who you were or what you were doing there. I just knew I was looking into the eyes of someone I knew, as though we had met before. It was like looking into a familiar painting I had never seen before but I knew all about it. It was like reading a poem I had never read before and I knew exactly what the poet was trying to say in their deeper mind. I saw inside your soul through your eyes. The reflection was like a pool of clear water that had such a depth, that when examined, had no bottom. You were infinite. That is when I knew our souls knew one another. They had been together before and were looking for the other again in this life. You came to me & I found you. Our paths were following the same course to lead to that moment. And we found each other, not just by chance, it was meant to be, we wander along a path, the choices we made, they were destiny guiding us but no force was involved, no coercion, just our souls needed to be rejoined to make them whole again. Wholeness renews happiness and fullness enriches the whole being. The ripple effect from such a joining is infinitely phenomenal.

Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all place 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.

I will end this letter in this one moment of now.

Fondly,
Madison

© madison taylor 2008

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

flowers yellow white pinkish with green background of leaves

rain in garden gif

Soul Through Your Eyes
By Madison Taylor
29th April 2008

Soul through the eyes
Reflections in a pool of clear water
Depths examined are bottomless
Infinity has been discovered
In a pool of vision

Trying to express
In a deeper mind
The poet must proclaim
Souls recognize a counterpart
Eye contact with the self
In someone else’s eyes
Knowing but haven’t met yet
Finding but soul came to soul

Paths were followed but different
Yet they all led to now
A moment meeting in time
With energy from outside of time
Wandering along making choices
Destiny secretly guiding them
Yet the choices are free

No coercion involved
But paths are meant to be
On the course they are following
Though they make the decisions
What courses will be taken
What are the odds of the choices?
What is supposed to be chosen?

And it turns out to be correct
Or are there no mistakes
The familiar painting of life
Is designed and prepared before birth
It is like reading a poem
Never written but once it is
It is familiar as though read before

Led to the moment eyes meet
From the moment following
Paths are joined
Meeting to follow
As long as the path continued on
All is whole again
Souls have been delivered
The right door has been opened
Wholeness is fulfilled

Wholeness renews happiness
Fullness enriches the whole being.
The ripple effect in such a joining
Is infinitely phenomenal
It will continue forever
Repeating until a completeness
Is infinitely successful

© madison taylor 2008

abstract_fluid_painting_45_by_mark_chadwickAbstract 45 — Artist Mark Chadwick

Apres de Rive

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

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

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212 Patrick-our Bengal cat up in his tree-Scottie’s buddy

Havana Brown Kitten  Madison and Scottie's kitten One of the Two   800x600

Havana Brown Kitten Madison & Scottie’s. This cutie is Toker. He has a twin brother Mikey

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

Private Writings: Chapter #31 — New World Sympathy

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #31 — New World Sympathy
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 22nd October 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:

I am writing to Dr. Annie Haskell. My form of storytelling is through
letters containing dreams, thoughts, poems, music, describing my script
“Brief Sacrifice,” already made into a film but not yet released, psycho-
therapy, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner workings of the mind,
soul, body, emotions, and bipolar. I prefer mentally creative, interesting, or
having a brain misfiring. Included in the mix are childhood abuse, car crashes,
near drownings, drugs [the illegal kind at present], hallucinations, hypersexuality,
time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuation, imagination, fantasy,
and a need to discover my bliss.

See you inside.
Namaste! Madison Taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #31 — New World Sympathy

Tuesday, 15th April 2008

Dear Annie,

I needed to concentrate on something specific this week but never got to tell you. In this letter, I will write it down, so next week we can get into detail about what I am feeling. Taking off to Paris, France with Scottie in a few weeks, so she can begin shooting our new film. It is giving me a great deal of apprehension. You may want to talk to Scottie about what I am going to tell you. She doesn’t get what I am trying to say. If someone else talks to her, she may listen. It may feel like it is coming from someone she feels is being rational. In this situation, that is not how she feels I am coming across. I wrote down as clearly as possible, what we need to talk about.

First, it is okay to talk to Scottie about anything. She will tell you if it is alright with her or not. You can trust her to keep it confidential. It begins with her friendship with the actor, Hunter Marx, and the fact we don’t talk about her. Scottie told me she doesn’t want to get involved with what I feel regarding Hunter. I don’t think Scottie grasps the seriousness of what is going on. Since she doesn’t want to talk to me about Hunter, there is no way for me to explain to her how I am feeling. She thinks I am just being contrary when I say anything. Scottie has no idea how serious Hunter affected me in the past. How much damage Hunter did to my being able to trust. For me, it is better to talk to you, Annie or my friend Jonathan. I feel safer keeping what I feel from Scottie.

Recently, Scottie had a conversation with Hunter. I woke up hearing Scottie’s voice. Realizing she was talking to someone, I couldn’t help but overhear part of what Scottie was saying. She was telling Hunter about me regarding my habit of ending relationships when I feel hurt. She said, I end things abruptly and cold. This made me feel hurt and betrayed she would tell Hunter this. Especially, after the way it blew up between Hunter and me. What Scottie doesn’t realize is that was me when we first met, I was younger, more naive, extremely trusting and much more gullible. I have since worked on my need to run away. I try to work things out now. But with Hunter, there wasn’t anything to work out. I tried reaching her but was rejected too many times to remember the count.

Hunter’s need for secrecy and extreme privacy, I never felt it was okay to really talk to Scottie about the relationship I had with Hunter. She made it perfectly clear no one was to know what was happening between us. She told me, she was afraid the press would find out and think she was a lesbian. You know what kind of relationships this kind of privacy reminds me of, an abusive one. Abusers don’t want you to tell anyone about them. Hunter didn’t want anyone to know the kind of manipulation that was happening.

Scottie has no idea what I did for Hunter to draw Scottie into her life. Scottie was trying to cast an important film and I felt manipulated into getting Scottie to take a closer look at Hunter. Scottie didn’t act terribly comfortable around Hunter, so, I stepped in to smooth the way. I, now feel she used me to get what she wanted from Scottie and I fell right into her trap and gave Scottie over to her on a “silver platter. Like a fucking idiot. Oh, so, clever Hunter was manipulating us both. And now Scottie can’t see the truth no matter how I try to explain it to her. She just won’t listen. Thinks I am just being contrary because of how I feel.

Let me try to explain it more clearly. Hunter controlled me. She owned me. It was her decision when we would have contact and when it would be cut off. I destroyed pages of a great script because she felt it sounded too much like I was writing about her. I became so upset. To me it was about what it felt like to be bipolar. I wanted the character to talk about what it felt like when she became delusional and had irrational thoughts. I blew up and lost it. She upset me so much that I destroyed the whole script. It was something I sweated pain to create. She had turned into my Svengali. When she first got to know me she pretended to like my honesty. Once she hooked me to her drug of choice, herself, we became what I felt were friends. One of her requirements, she wanted me to keep all that went on between us to myself. Suddenly, I had to be so secretive. No one could know we were close friends.

I don’t think I can go back to being any place where she is. Hunter became delusional. She started telling me I had betrayed her and that I was disloyal. She pushed me away with her accusations. They were all lies based on nothing. She was trying to make me doubt my writing. The ultimately, real insanity started when I starting making friends with another actor she used to call a friend. She told me I was betraying her by being friends with this actor and it had to stop. I felt that was going too far. She did that with a lot of people in the film industry with whom I was making new connections. It was necessary and part of developing our film production company, Scottie’s and mine, “Infinite Imaginations, Inc..

I never did drop any of the people she wanted me to. Why should I, she was being ridiculous and way beyond the boundaries of being too demanding. She may have been a rising star but I didn’t need her to connect with others in the film industry. My work was beginning to have a buzz developing around it and so was “Infinite Imaginations, Inc.” Scottie doesn’t get the fact Hunter used me to get to her. And after I took my control back and pushed her away, she did everything she could after that to hurt me, including the absurdity of trying to come between Scottie and me. Hunter learned quickly it wouldn’t work. Scottie and I were too strong together.

When I flash back and remember when I first started becoming friends with Hunter, Scottie told me I should be careful, a friend had warned her. I don’t know if Scottie has forgotten or Scottie is trying to be diplomatic but she has no idea the torture I felt throughout that friendship. I trust Scottie, but she will be having contact with Hunter again. She cast her in the lead for our new film. No title has been finalized. Is it possible for me to just be professional with her? I feel it is going to be very uncomfortable. She is the one who cut me off cold but I am the one who wanted it to remain that way. A closed book, let go without regrets.

When my friendship with Hunter started, I thought it would be one of those that would last. That was me feeling promise and being delusional. I was living a fantasy. The truth is, I always felt like I had no rights in the relationship. Always a sense I needed permission to even contact her. It is awful to examine an abusive relationship when you realize you didn’t even recognize it when it was happening. Hunter had to be in total control. I let her at the expense of my own sense of self. I was reliving how my own mother treated me. This might sound crazy, but the only time I felt delusional was when I was with her. Which makes me feel now, she was doing something bordering on voodoo that set off my irrational thoughts.

I don’t know if I should delete this or let you see what has been going on inside my mind all this time. It is only now coming to the surface. I am going to use these revelations in my writing. There has to be a way to release all this toxic muck that filled me with poison. How the hell could I have been so blind?

You are my therapist. This is the kind of thing I should trust you with. Who else can I talk to about this shit? How destructive have I allowed myself to be?

Now, my life seems to be moving on a rapid cycle of change, looking for a landing spot, and claim a space for psychological and emotional rest. Hope you can help me find peace before death comes to take me away. All I want is a modicum sense of security and well-being.

Fondly,
Madison

Ps. This week, we were supposed to talk about the invitation from Scottie to join her on her film making quest to Paris, France, to film her next film with the script I wrote for her. It is a romance, with a touch of the ghost. A light comedy, with a touch of the spirit world invading the party. That’s the title, it just came to me, “Touch of the Spirit.” Anyway, it is really important we work on getting me prepared to fly. It freaks me out. Leaving our home. Going over the Atlantic Ocean. We could crash. We could drown. I suppose, though, the crash would kill us first. That was stupid to say out loud. Knock on wood.

PPs. Also, I am sorry, I have been so nervous, I didn’t include anything about our film “Brief Sacrifice.” I will tell you in our session more of the adventure. It gets really exciting when James and Jackson Sharp connect psychically. The power between Jackson and James wakes up an unimaginable energy field. Wait til you see special effect. It is so charged up. A great vibration comes from within the “Silver Box.” It appears together, the two, a cat and a human, have cracked the code. Seams begin to show, revealing signs of a thin crack which encircles the “Silver Box.” By our next letter, I feel strongly the “Silver Box” will be revealing its contents. From there we will have to determine what the significance is of what’s inside. Ciao!

© madison taylor 2008

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

<em>Somewhere In Time – John Barry</em>

Robert Mapplethorpe --- 28 Closeup Yellow Lily

Robert Mapplethorpe — 28 Closeup Yellow Lily

rain in garden gif

Missing You Though We’re Not Gone
by Madison Taylor
Tuesday 22nd April 2008

Missing you though we’re not gone
Fear you will leave before me
Without you I will be left alone
In this way I could not ever be

Your presence is a wanted dream
To think and speak of many things
To brighten days shine as the sun
Our family whole what love it brings

One day in hours the time will come
We’ll spend the minutes creating fun
In company together we shall be
In spirit connecting forever free

© madison taylor 2008

Psychedelic Alpha Coders

Psychedelic Alpha Coders

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

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212 Patrick-our Bengal cat up in his tree-Scottie’s buddy

Havana Brown Kitten  Madison and Scottie's kitten One of the Two   800x600

Havana Brown Kitten Madison & Scottie’s. This cutie is Toker. He has a twin brother Mikey

actresses-with-long-hair-hairstyle frenchHunter Marx [taken 7 years ago in 2001 year Hunter & Madison met]

play is not just play meryl streep

Private Writings: Chapter #29 — The Party’s Over

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013Private Writings: Chapter #29 — The Party’s Over
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Published Introduction & Chapter #1
On 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On 8th October 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:

I am writing to Dr. Annie Haskell. My form of storytelling is through
letters containing dreams, thoughts, poems, music, describing my script
“Brief Sacrifice,” already made into a film but not yet released, psycho-
therapy, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner workings of the mind,
soul, body, emotions, and bipolar. I prefer mentally creative, interesting, or
having a brain misfiring. Included in the mix are childhood abuse, car crashes,
near drownings, drugs [the illegal kind at present], hallucinations, hypersexuality,
time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuation, imagination, fantasy,

and a need to discover my bliss.
See you inside.
Namaste! Madison Taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #29 — The Party’s Over
Tuesday 8th April 2008

Dear Annie,

It feels so strange when something once so important deteriorates into something so destructive. The Women’s Group met for the last time today and I am relieved. It needed to stop a long time ago. Instead, Dr. George allowed it to drift into a critical mass, causing everyone to be exposed to a dangerous situation he had no idea how to handle.

When it first began, it had positive benefits. For me, I was drawn out into the outside world. I think Dr. George, originally, had the right idea. A women’s group for those suffering from PTSD and a variety of other conditions. The group was to be a safe haven for those who had no other source to help them. It was doing okay until the good doctor began losing his sense of stability. His mind seemed to be slipping into a state of self-aggrandizement. He lost control of the behavior of a certain woman he felt attracted to. It was with Angie, there came the greatest exception.

When she began to be extremely critical of other members of the group. I seemed to top her list. Dr. George allowed her freedom and the support for the foul things she would say to us. Her prejudices toward the women from different backgrounds, especially Deborah, who is black, Israh, who is Muslim, and myself, with a triple threat of being a lesbian, living with another woman, and being Jewish. I converted to practicing Judaism a long time ago. It was while I was seeing my first therapist, Rachel. I was an impressionable teenager, she was Jewish and I felt a strong bond with her. I wanted to be just like her. That is when I decided to change my religious beliefs to hers. I continue to celebrate the traditions of Judaism but have since realized no organized religion allows me to have a free flowing spiritual base.

Angie hated our differences, and took great pleasure in criticizing us, using all her stereotypes of our preferred life style and cultures. Being called Queer and Dyke as words don’t bother me, but when there is hate behind those words, they become offensive slurs. It does become degrading and emotionally harming. It caused me to flashback onto the verbal abuse I heard when I was a kid in school. The bullies were severe with their use of language to undermine the confidence of all of us, who already felt so insecure from lack of support from our families, Those families, who gave us zero time to listen to what we had to say about what we were going through. And speaking for myself only, my family was also participating in abusing me.

Group was supposed to be a safe place to work on healing from all the poison so many people spewed out at us in the outside world. We were all supposed to be safe in our therapy group. Angie stole that away from us, and Dr. George did not lift his voice to protect us. Privately, he was even worse. He would defend Angie to me and then accuse me of being insensitive. That I didn’t try hard enough to understand what Angie was going through. What she was going through was to act like a bully and to continue our abuse in a supposedly safe environment.

She is now the dead and murdered group member, and Dr. George is being charged with her murder. Now if that is not irony, nothing is. She has brought another life down with her dying. It seems like she will never really go away. You told us, Dr. George tried to commit suicide while in his jail cell. He was under 24/7 suicide watch but still managed an attempt on his own life. The judge is to determine, some time today, whether he is able to stand trial. There was talk of moving him to a psychiatric hospital, in a ward that would be locked down. Wherever he was, he was to remain on suicide watch.

I remember when I lost my therapist, the one before Dr. George. She was a significant loss to me. I really thought she understood me, but when I reflect back now, I wonder. I feel she misunderstood me and made me feel crazy for needing her. I felt like there was something wrong with me because of how I felt toward her. It felt like I was a bit obsessed but if I think about my feelings now, I would say they were pretty normal for the kind of relationship we had. She had a strong control over me. When I wanted to talk about my feelings for her, she would always shut me down. And on the other side, I felt how she was so delicate and tender with me. One moment I would feel safe with her and then a moment later, she would make me feel like I was crazy.

Therapists have this way of confusing me, using mixed feelings, always their damned mixed feelings. I mean, who do you go to when you need to talk about your therapist? I admit it now, I was in love with her. At the time, I had no idea. I didn’t know I was attracted to women at the time. It’s called denial on an elevated level. No way was I attracted to women. I was but I wasn’t admitting it to myself or out loud to anyone. I should have known when I was in Kindergarten. I smiled a lot at my therapist. She made my heart so happy when I looked at her. I felt a magnetic pull inside whenever her eyes met mine. The blue intensity just melted me away.

Most of my female teachers made me feel nervous, in a good way, but a shy way. I liked them a lot. But I didn’t understand what I was feeling. No one told me there was such a thing as being attracted to someone of the same sex. I didn’t know there was such a thing. The church I went to always talked about a man and a woman getting together inside a marriage. I did leave that church when I realized my favorite person was a bigot. It was always that way with white, straight, Christians back then. Now some Christians have gotten the message to accept all as equal. We all have a right to express our life the way we feel it. We don’t have to deny who we are even if we aren’t part of the “Norm.”

Now that I have wandered away from the point I wanted to make in my letter, Annie, let me get back. What I wanted to tell you about is the therapist before Dr. George, Jamie, instead I floated back to my first therapist. I held back my feelings from Jamie. I wanted to tell her how I felt but I knew if I did it would bring an abrupt end to our working together. I knew she would not be able to handle how I felt. I was in love with her but I knew I had no chance of my feelings ever being accepted or reciprocated. If I told Jamie, I knew she would abruptly terminate our association.

Each week I would go to both my sessions. We talked about Scottie and my inability to handle being sexually intimate. Making love was pretty intense when Scottie and I first got together, It probably helped I was stoned and drank at the time. My fear would be buried and I was good at seduction. Writing poetry allowed me to express my feelings. There were no problems with my touching Scottie and she could touch me but if it went any further than my making love to her, meaning if she wanted to reciprocate, I would respond at first but then the strangest thing would happen. All my feelings, emotional and physical, would shut down completely. I believe I left my body. Something else took possession of both my body and mind. My emotions turned cold as the ghost that haunted me. Nothing could bring me back.

I use to think if I just faked getting through it, everything would be alright. This was the PTSD. My mind and body would flip back to anyone of the multiple times I was sexually abused. It would become those who abused me who were there, that took me out of time. They stole my ability to respond by forcing me to respond when the abuse was happening. Before I knew what my body was doing. It was not connected to choice but force and rape. Now when I make love, it starts out with the high of someone turned on and develops so wonderfully but then comes the transformation and flashbacks. The abusers take over and all goes sideways, becomes wrong and I must take my leave, not by choice but out of necessity to save myself from being re-abused.

Stopping is not something I’ve ever learned how to do. Nothing stopped the abusers so how does one stop something, where one moment it feels so right and the next it has deteriorated into a nightmare. All shuts down that is good and what is there in its place is the memories of abuse coming back to life. The delusions feel real, what is happening takes hold, destroys everything good, leaves me and the person I love confused, probably wondering what just happened. I can’t tell them, they have become someone I cannot trust. In that moment the trust has disappeared. Spoiled by what the abusers created inside of me, what has been left behind to live in me, waiting to destroy anything close to trust or love when it comes into my life.

I need to move away from this subject. It’s time to escape into a world of fantasies and dreams. “Brief Sacrifice” is how I do that. I write fantasies of the way I want things to be. I can create those worlds in my screenplays. They get to become real when they are transformed into films. Scottie creates the transformation for me. What I write becomes real for a time. Then I write another story to be made into the next film. Writing and enjoying my stories up on the screen is the best of both my worlds, words and film, the magic of creation coming alive.

In “Brief Sacrifice,” I create a magical world where anything is possible. There are good guys in white hats always pursued by the bad guys in black hats. A metaphorical way of differentiating. My good guys are always being pursued but hopefully by the end they will achieve their goals. The black hats will meet their demise. It is my way of getting even with those bastards who tried to destroy me. They may get away with part of their plan in reality but I get them back in my fantasies. The black hats are always destroyed in some fashion that give all who perceive this destruction a great deal of satisfaction. A feeling of well done.

In “Brief Sacrifice,” nothing is different, it is just figuring out how the white hats will achieve the ultimate discovery of Truth and keep it safe. The black hats, of course, are going to make every effort to stop the Good from ever seeing fruition. It is usually the 1% versus the 99%. In my stories the 99% always win. The Utopia, or whatever it is meant to be accomplished, finds a way to get around the attacks, of the always to be frustrated, in “Brief Sacrifice” it is the Tea Dome Soldiers, going under the heading for the secret organization called “GEUSS.”

“Brief Sacrifice” takes us on a journey through the ever reaching dimensions of Time and pierces the inconceivable threads of time by way of Magic, Miracles and the Mystical. Friends of Nikola Tesla know there is a secret created by the Master himself. In possession of the conduit of Magic, Miracles and the Mystical is Carter McLeod. In the Silver Box lies the answer. It is almost time for the Silver Box to open. Jonathan Sharp, the new head of the Friends of Nikola Tesla, holds the knowledge of what will make the Silver Box open. He is not aware he holds this power, yet, so he must learn first before he discovers it.

All are waiting for the right time. The old man was presented with the Silver Box directly from the hands of Nikola Tesla, a year before he died. Tesla knew he had to pass on his secrets. The old man was chosen because he was Tesla’s friend from his childhood back in Croatia. After they both immigrated to the States, the Colonies, they lost track of the other. But later on in Tesla’s life they had a surprise meeting. It came out of nowhere. But it was actually meant to happen. Nikola knew where to find his friend. He had kept track of him for his entire life. He could see from the start, the old man would play an important part in his future. And he did.

Tesla knew his life’s end was near. Arrangements had been made to run into his old friend. When they met, Tesla gave the old man the brief case with instructions never to open it. He, also, told him to protect it with his life and to seek others he trusted to help him with this task. Someday, he said, what he held would be the new dawning of humankind. It may not be in his friend’s future but someday, it would either save humankind or destroy it. His warning was to “Never Let This Brief Case Fall into the Hands of the Wealthy. They Will Want to See It Destroyed.” Tesla, also, gave him an envelope which contained further instructions. It was to form the group the Friends of Nikola Tesla. He was to tell them some of the details to hold in secret. Those who were members were to pass on down from generation to generation the secret details, until what was contained in the Silver Box was actualized.

“The contents of the Silver Box will save humankind.”

This message is what has been passed down. It is up to Jackson Sharp and Carter McLeod to carry out the destiny of Nikola Tesla. The Magical, Miracle and Mystical future will be revealed once what is in the Silver Box is activated.

This is all I will tell you today. Curious thing about the Silver Box. What it is? Have you any idea?

From the heavy to the heavier or light or is it Light? All will be revealed in its proper time.

Too much. Have I said too much? It isn’t good to keep some secrets and essential to keep others.

Hold on, there’s a news report coming onto the TV about Dr. George’s case. The judge saw him in court. Her decision, because of his attempted suicide, she ordered Dr. George to be remanded into the custody of the local Psychiatric Hospital. To be put on 24/7 observation. My thought are it will be in a padded cell, just to be sure. Why the hell do you suppose he tried to kill himself? It appears he really has lost it. Do you suppose he really is guilty and can’t deal with knowing what he did?

We will talk about this all when we meet in our next session. No group to interfere or to fuck up my feelings before I see you. That would actually be a relief. I can concentrate on what I want us to talk about and what I wrote in this letter. There will be a poem which follows.

Fondly,

Madison

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

pansies maybe

rain in garden gifMade of Clouds
By Madison Taylor
8th April 2008

Pulling true love
Out of an invisible dream
Once the past was cruel
With moments of explosive highs
Now fading like the sun entering night
An image exists fading fast
Once upon a truth but never real

Wandering into a woods
Climbing a tree memories
Pretending to sit high
Riding through a living fantasy
A great height falling
No fear or a sudden awakening
The ground is made of clouds

© madison taylor 2008

abstraction p420 artist tehos tehos

Abstraction p420 Artist Tehos Tehos

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

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212

Patrick-our Bengal cat up in his tree-Scottie’s buddy

 

Havana Brown Kitten  Madison and Scottie's kitten One of the Two   800x600

Havana Brown Kitten Madison & Scottie’s. This cutie is Toker. He has a twin brother Mikey

dream home 2

play is not just play meryl streep

Special Edition: Niamh Clune—Orange Petals in a Storm

special edition day any

orange petals in the stormOrange Petals in a Storm
Written by Niamh Clune
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Posted On Wednesday 18th September 2013
SPECIAL EDITION

april thomas  ascension artist group

Check the above site out. April Thomas Blog “Ascension Artist Group” feature authors. Particularly, look for the post featuring Niamh Clune, talking about her foundations in life and her desire to write. The book she is featuring is “Orange Petals in a Storm.” A fantasy of a young girl who loses everything when her mother dies. At the beginning of the book she is running through the rain to reach the home she lived in with her mother.

From there the adventure goes back in time to recall all Skyla McFee had to endure and the magic she discovered in her imagination which helped in a huge way to help her cope with the situation she found herself stuck in. Read the book to find out what materializes from within Skyla McFee’s imagination. It will surprise you, delight you, and hold your attention to the very last page.

I have followed the author, Niamh Clune, from the first day I became aware of her genius in the use of words and language. Five stars, I give to all her books. Another of which is “The Coming of the Feminine Christ,” a book of truth, an amazing confrontation with an angel in the middle of a Virgin Forrest, [she wasn't alone when she witness the materialization with the Angel ], it was profound for all, but a message was transmitted into Dr. Clune’s mind, a message meant for all of mankind. We need to change our ways or all will be lost.

There are many more offerings in this amazing book, which will open up your mind to other understandings. “The Coming of the Feminine Christ” is right up there with “Orange Petals in a Storm” as a Five Star Book.

Niamh Clune is a brilliant writer and poet, excelling in everything she sets her mind to and oh, what a brilliant mind. Her soul and heart shine through in all that she writes and all she does.

Do check out this site and search out the post on the author Niamh Clune. It, also, gives you locations where you can purchase these marvelous books. Also, see below for those link.

We all need “Orange Petals in a Storm” and “The Coming of the Feminine Christ” in our reading collections. Once you have read them once, you will want to repeat the experience. Written by Jennifer Kiley — Jk the secret keeper

Behind The Books Featured Author: Niamh Clune [Find Here]
Niamh Clune: Posted on Tuesday, September 17, 2013 12:59 PM

You will find Orange Petals In A Storm Find Here

The Coming Of The Feminine Christ
Find Here

And my children’s books are on the plum tree books web-site