Private Writings: Chapter #70 – “Her Name Is Sylvia Kendall”

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

“Her Name Is Sylvia Kendall”
Private Writings #70
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Post Tuesday 15th July 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 #70 “Her Name Is Sylvia Kendall”

Tuesday 6th January 2009

Dear Annie,

Her name is SYLVIA KENDALL.

How could I have forgotten her name of all names. PTSD maybe. She is the one who hurt me. She is the person who pushed me the final step over the edge. It wasn’t nice for her to do. The accident at the set. Sylvia was driving but she had a valuable passenger who just wanted to do a small part in our film. How was anyone to know she would crash the car, trying to take our daughter Alison Porter with her. The detectives are pushing for attempted suicide. But there is going to be a full investigation. It’s not everyday accidents like this happen while filming a scene where there are no stunts and there shouldn’t have been any danger in the scene.

Sylvia did it to me, trying to destroy me, and now to my daughter. Mine and Scottie’s daughter. Sylvia is in critical condition in the ICU at Cedar Sinai, dying I have heard. Letting her go is not the hard part but she is trying to take our daughter Alison Porter along with her. Only thing is, they wouldn’t be going in the same direction.

Alison is in critical condition, also. Her vitals are dangerously low. She has swelling on the brain. I can’t bear the thought of losing her. Scottie is by her side. She had a bed brought in for her in Alison’s private room. Last time Scottie contacted me in a text, she told me Alison was in a coma and on a ventilator. Alison broke an assortment of bones, along with a concussion. That is why it is essential she wake up soon.

I have to get out of Redcliff. I must see her, Alison. If anything happens to her. If she doesn’t make it, I don’t know what I will do. I need to be with her and Scottie. They need me. Please, Annie, if you can do anything, get me out of here. Once Alison is safe and back home, I promise I will return. You can monitor me while I am out. I could be in contact with you every day or as much as you want me to be. I spoke to Dr. V. She feels it would be difficult for me to see Alison in this condition after the way that Tosh died or was murdered. I’m sure she was murdered.

I will explain what my feelings are about Tosh dying in an identical accident. It is identical, isn’t it?

Just get me home, Annie. Now, PLEASE. I need to see Alison & Scottie. And I really need to see you & to smoke some Medical Marijuana. My nerves have fallen off the edge WANT into an extremely STRONG NEED.

Bring me home.

Goodnight. Ciao Ciao!!!

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

Maksim - Somewhere In Time - Composer John Barry[Dedicated to Annie]

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

 

Private Writings: Chapter #62 – “Act Natural Be GAY”

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013“Act Natural Be GAY”

Private Writings: Chapter #62 

Written by Jennifer Kiley

Posted On Tuesday 20th May 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 #62 — “Act Natural Be GAY”

Tuesday 11th November 2008

Dear Annie,

I don’t speak his name. The last time I saw him he leaned into give me a kiss. I thought it would of course be innocent. A male parental figure was standing very nearby. He could see anything if there was anything to see. My guard was down. Never expecting him to do what was the last time he physically touched me. It was inappropriate what he did. Some may think tame. I felt disgusted. It was a lean in for a kiss on the cheek & turned into a full frontal assault. He grabbed at my breasts with one hand & with the other, he had his open palm hard up against the back of my head. What the fuck just happened?

He forced himself onto me. His tongue tried to push its way inside of my mouth. It felt awkward. I pushed him away & laughed off his assault. When I left that day, years ago, it was the last time I was ever physically in his presence again. Seeing him gives me nightmares & I see him in my dreams. It seems I get regular visits from the undead when I am sleeping. And now I see them in window glass, reflecting back at me. it shook me up seeing her face.

I think she is watching me. Maybe it is her punishment for her unbecoming not like parent’s behavior at all. She must see how I have been since I have left them behind. College & psychotherapy have saved me. So has smoking weed. It calms down my nerves. Helps me be able to talk to one person at a time. Not one for large gatherings. More so now. I love my quiet time to write & paint.

I want to know what it feels like to love someone without ever having experienced any of the abuse & punishment I had to endure. Add onto the degree of treachery in my childhood, I am surprised I never succeeded at killing myself. Suicide is with me all the time. It may take time off for some quiet time but the depression and suicidal thoughts & feelings circulate my senses whenever I come off of a manic phase. Presently I am manic. I don’t get it. What is it that Scottie is experiencing with me when she tells me I am manic. I know what depression probably looks like. It is awful to feel it. I’ve grown accustomed to the music I want to hear when I am going down under into the darkness. The music is essential. It is my companion among the walking dead.

When I am not depressed, I do not want to ever die. If I could find a cure for Death, I would certainly use it. One exception, the pain, it would have to exist on a reasonable level of endurance. I would want to feel pleasure & to give pleasure. I would want my sexual creatures who spook me away from touch & hugging & kissing. It is not that I don’t enjoy being touched by a woman I love, it is my not being able to give the completeness of love to her or to myself while I am with someone I would want to make love to in as free a fashion as possible. I love the sensation of my body being aroused. It is the release that brings on all the problems & rejections & turning cold at the touch of anyone who tried to make love to me. Maybe I make love to them or I am just trying to bring them some kind of satisfaction, knowing eventually I will be a failure & the lady I have strong feelings for will just suddenly disappeared as quickly as she appeared in my life.

What am I really afraid to tell you Annie? Why am I hiding away from facing you? I know why. I have been pushing my physical feelings for you down. I believe I am in love with you. I desire everything about you. Your voice melts the nerves inside my body & I want so much just to be held in your arms. And if you would allow, I would love to hold you close to me.

If I fantasized on what I would want from you, I would say, I would want to love you. To find the formula inside of you to bring me out of the shell I have been trapped in from the moment the first wrong person did things to me that made me feel ashamed & frightened.

I thought the first time, he might kill me. I heard later on when I was older that some of the places my abusers would take me were remote. There were never any people around except myself & the abuser of choice my male parental unit would assign me to take care of.

He made connections using me. The people that used me sexually were important men. They had power. If anyone ever were to find out what they were doing to me, they would kill me. I don’t imagine that, it was the kind of threat I received all the time. One time I made a pedophile so angry when I wanted him to stop. When he didn’t I threatened to go to the police. They would stop them all.

His rage came flying out. He held tightly to my throat with his right hand & his left hand was held up to punch me in the face. I stood my ground as solid as I could. He told me if he ever heard me use any kind of threat like that again, he would kill me. He said that sex from children was easy to find. I wasn’t his only sex toy.

This made me feel sick to my stomach. It felt like I was going to die. I was trapped inside this shit by my own semen donor. He was such a filthy pig & still is. Now he’s just trying to steal my inheritance from my grandmother. No relation to my A.I. She hated him but had no idea what he was making me do.

I was a sex slave to anything he wanted me to do. And my shadow mother was the torturer. The two together made Caligula look like an innocent yet still a madman.

It was a true den of iniquity. No one knew what anyone else was doing. I lived in a den of snakes of the poisonous kind. The poison didn’t kill me but it made me blind to my senses. I lost the ability to tell reality from madness. What does one do when most of their childhood was filled with evil from bad men & women?

I have been working on getting better most of my life after 19. That’s when I started therapy & have been in & out of new therapists’ offices ever since.

I want you to stay around for a long time. I need you in my life so don’t abandon me. Please be the exception.

I wanted you to do me a favor. Since I have missed so many of the meetings of the new trauma group you run with a new therapist to me. I love her name, “Maria Garcia Falcón.” I definitely am going to be back as soon as I am able to walk out of Redcliff. I really miss certain people more than others. I miss you. I miss Maria. She is always so good to me & understanding. It really feels like Maria gets me.

Enough for now. Just please root for me Annie. I want to go home. My babies are going to be so annoyed with me, they probably won’t let me pet them when I do get home, just to punish me. No, they are not the vindictive types. They are quite Zen our sweet babies.

Love & Hugs
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

Red Calla Lily Aranal Flower

Red Calla Lily Aranal Flower

“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

Let’s Try Emotional Correctness

tell me a story
Let’s Try Emotional Correctness
TED Talk: Sally Kohn
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created on 8th January 2014
Posted On Thursday 10th April 2014
TELL ME A STORY

Let’s Try Emotional Correctness – TED Talk – Sally Kohn

It’s times for Liberals and Conservatives to transcend their political differences and really listen to what each other says.

Political Pundit: Optimistic talk. She is a progressive lesbian on FOX News.

It’s not about Political Correctness but about Emotional Correctness.

The Myth of the Gay Agenda

tell me a story
The Myth of the Gay Agenda
TED Talk: LZ Granderson
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created 3rd July 2013
Posted On Thursday 7th November 2013
TELL ME A STORYY

LZ Granderson — The Myth of the Gay Agenda

Published on Jun 15, 2012

In a humorous talk with an urgent message, LZ Granderson points out the absurdity in the idea that there’s a “gay lifestyle,” much less a “gay agenda.”

“The Evil Gay Life Style”

1. I drink coffee. Gay people love coffee.
2. I get stuck in traffic. That happens to gay people all the time.
3. I feed my kids. Gay people have kids. And they are always needing food.
4. They make a mess & so do I. It’s something gay people do.
5. I prepare food for them. They eat a lot. Gay people prepare food all the time.
6. How many of you are in love? You might be gay. Be careful, I here that being in love is gay. It’s part of the gay life style I’ve been telling you about.
7. How many are single? You, too, might be gay. I know some gay people who are single.

Gay Agenda is the U.S. Constitution. Run for your heterosexual lives.

Yet there is no protection in some states. Gays can be thrown out of our apartments. Lose our jobs. Be denied adopting children. We just want the same rights as everyone else. It’s as simple as that. Equality.

Notations by Jennifer Kiley

Love, No Matter What

tell me a story
Love, No Matter What
TED Talk: Andrew Solomon
Dealing with Gay Issues
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created 3rd July 2013
Posted Thursday 24th October 2013
TELL ME A STORY

Dealing with Gay Issues
How Did An Illness Become an Identity?

Andrew Solomon — Love, No Matter What

Dealing with Gay issues

What is it like to raise a child who’s different from you in some fundamental way (like a prodigy, or a differently-abled kid, or a criminal)? In this quietly moving talk, writer Andrew Solomon shares what he learned from talking to dozens of parents — asking them: What’s the line between unconditional love and unconditional acceptance?

Best Films Top Ten #11: Fried Green Tomatoes

Fried Green Tomatoes Poster

Fried Green Tomatoes
Best Films Top Ten #11
Special Feature
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Posted Created on Tuesday 15th October 2013
Posted on Friday 18th October 2013
FILM FRIDAY
dedicated to roger ebert film friday

5 stars

Fried Green Tomatoes
Love Story of Idgie & Ruth
Written by Jennifer Kiley
17th October 2013

Romantic. Sad & Joyful. Celebration of two women who love each other. The KKK try to tear their family, life & world apart. They held their common bond in Buddy through his namesake in Ruth’s child Buddy Jr.

The film opens with Idgie, at a single digit age, not wanting to wear a dress for a sibling’s wedding ceremony. She climbs into her tree fort & refuses to come down.

I should take a few steps back. The story of Idgie Threadgoode and Ruth Jamison is told to us through the memories of Ninny Threadgoode. She lives in a nursing home, where one day wanders into the visitors lounge a confused woman who is there with her husband to visit one of his relatives, who hates Evelyn Couch. Her husband ends up visiting alone, while she spends the time alone herself, just wandering around & ends up in the visitors lounge.

A voice comes out of the silence. Ninny & Evelyn meet. A reluctant Evelyn sits with Ninny, who begins to talk her ear off. Evelyn is not sure what she has gotten herself into but she is about to find out. Something surprising, in which she becomes enthusiastic about overtime. It is when Ninny starts telling the story of two special women, one being a direct member of her own family, and the other person, a friend of the family. The family member is Idgie Threadgoode and the other woman is Ruth Jamison.

Their life merging in many different ways turns into one of the most interesting story’s filled with trauma and sadness but also excitement and joy. The film Fried Green Tomatoes is the unusual name of this treat. The story pulls the audience into it & you never want it to end. There is one person you want to see meet his demise as soon as you lay your eyes on him. Mr. Frank Bennett. He is nothing but trouble for everyone he comes in contact with & he must be taken out. I hated him immediately & my hatred grew as I found out more. He was simply put, a violent creep, an abuser, and a brute.

My main focus was what happened between Idgie & Ruth. Idgie’s family wanted Ruth to help guide her in any way possible. “To have a good influence on her.” Did she? That is debatable who had an effect on whom. When she lost her brother, Buddy, who she loved more than anything in the world, she was so devastated she escaped from her life. Slept on the shore of the lake. Big George, who ended up taking care of her for most of her life, watched over her. Ruth, also, lost Buddy that day.

Ruth was Buddy’s fiancée & missed him just as much as Idgie did. Her job was to follow Idgie around & instead of her guiding Idgie, Idgie took control & they had many adventures. Never one she would have thought of herself. One such adventure was to hop a train car & throw food to the poorer people of their area. Basically, stealing from the haves and giving to the have nots. At first Ruth felt it was stealing. Then she saw the hungry children. Her mind changed & so did her enthusiasm.

As Idgie & Ruth get closer. Idgie throws her a great surprise birthday party in the poorer side of town where she hangs out regularly. They drank, played poker & drunk baseball. Ruth got a home run but hit like a girl. Afterwards, the two sat on the shore & practically kissed. But Ruth broke the magic by saying she would be the good daughter and marry the man she was supposed to marry, who turned into Frank Bennett.

Life turned sour after that. Idgie didn’t go to the wedding. But one day she decided to visit Ruth, who kept the screen door between them & hid a huge bruise on her face. Idgie left without knowing. Frank came to the door as Idgie drove away. He had contempt in his eyes.

When Ruth’s mother died, it was time for Ruth to escape. She sent a note to Idgie in a disguise. A cryptic Bible passage. It was a hint she needed rescuing. When Idgie got to Ruth’s place, along with her brother Julian & Big George, she found her upstairs alone, gazing out the window. She told Idgie she was pregnant. Idgie told Ruth she was leaving with her. They got her belongings & as they were ready to exit the front door, Frank came in. By this time, Julian & Big George heard them from the car. In the struggles, he started to carry Ruth over his shoulder up the stairs & told Idgie to leave.

Julian & Big George convinced Frank to put Ruth down. Big George politely threatened him as he was holding his knife. Frank turned around & released Ruth to go down the stairs. Before she took one step down, he kicked her from behind, sending her flying down the stairs to land directly on her stomach. Idgie & Julian helped her up & Big George helped her to the car. Idgie looked straight up at Frank & threatened him, “If you ever touch her again, I’ll kill you.”

Life did change for Idgie & Ruth. They opened the Whistlestop Café. Ruth had her baby & named him Buddy Jr.. They built a life together. They were generous to the poor. One in particular, Smokey Lonesome, frequented Whistlestop Café & they saw to it he was always taken care of with food & a bottle to steady his nerves. Even a warm blanket for an outside room where he could sleep. They were also good to the black folk who came for food. It was a time when whites and blacks didn’t mix. Whistlestop didn’t believe in segregation so they served anyone who wanted a meal.

Grady, the law now, and friend of Idgie’s, told them they had to behave & follow the rules or there would be trouble from the KKK. Idgie knew Grady was a Klan member. But the local group was fairly liberal compared to the way they behaved elsewhere. Idgie & Ruth came to an agreement, they would continue to serve black people but they would have them eat at the picnic tables outside, in the back near the barbeque. That’s where Big George made the best barbeque in the whole of the South.

Further trouble struck one night. Frank heard he had a son. So he came with his Klan members from a state over with bad intentions.. He knocked Sipsey out when he tried to take Buddy. Ruth got wind he was there and stopped him. Sipsey came to & told him she wasn’t afraid of him. He told her she should be. He finally did leave but not until they harassed Big George & tied him up & whipped him. Idgie threatened the Klan if they didn’t stop. Grady stopped her but stepped in himself. He made them leave. Idgie untied Big George & took him away to tend to his wounds.

Frank did return on another night, alone, & stole the baby out of the house. As he was attempting to get into his truck, he was stopped several times by Smokey Lonesome. He punched Smokey & knocked him over several times. When out of the blue someone came up from behind & clobbered him with a cast iron skillet. That was it. He fell to the ground & someone picked up the baby basket. That was the last anyone heard about Frank Bennett.

What was ahead, from that point on seemed to go smoothly but things kept on happening. A member of the law kept looking for Frank Bennett. He ate a lot of the barbeque that Big George prepared. When he asked how they got it to taste so good, Sipsey [Cicely Tyson] told him, “The secret’s in the sauce.”. He was like a dog with a bone, when it came to Frank’s disappearance.

One damned day, a rusty truck was washed up during a great rain. It turned out to be Frank’s. The law from the next state came after Idgie.

Now believe it or not, I haven’t really told you too much. There is so much more happening that I haven’t revealed. Of course, there is a court case. It is all rather funny.

Now you must realize, I am only telling you the story Ninny is telling to Evelyn Couch. There is so much more to tell. First, that Fried Green Tomatoes is a brilliant & emotionally deep film. Let’s not say it is only for the female sex. I don’t feel it is limited in that way.

For the rest of the story & for Ninny Threadgoode’s [Jessica Tandy] part of the story, you will definitely have to rent, buy or stream the film. It is a great story. Touching & funny, warm & women don’t take no sh*t in it. “Towanda!” The cry of the angry woman who is tired of being mistreated & overlooked by the rudeness of the young & the ill-mannered of the world.

The film is about the injustice & treatment of what society felt were the lesser people in the world. Not because they were lesser but because they were designated to second class citizenship by the white male majority [not really the majority but the rich white male who felt he owned everything & everyone that wasn’t like him]. Not a lot has changed, if you look around.

As I wrote in my post on marriage & relationships of an intimate nature, these connections always have a sad ending, sometimes short & sometimes we live til we are old but we are always going to have to say goodbye. In Mary-Louise Parker’s acting roles, she had the bad luck of her characters not having the longest of life spans. She is a brilliant actor & I have seen all the films she has been in. Fried Green Tomatoes was my introduction to her fine quality of acting.

To bring this treatise on FGT to an end, I leave you with film clips, trailer, photographs & music & even a music video I made of the film from shots in sequential order with the story with a beautiful song playing while you are viewing the results of my experimental creativity. Only just learning how to do the music video process.

I highly recommend this film. For me it is a FIVE STAR FILM. & I make it my #11 Best Films of All Time. When it was first released into theatres I went to two different towns to see it. They are 30+ miles apart & I went at night. The roads were very dark but I NEEDED to see this film again. It was extremely popular when it was released. That is all I can say. Fried Green Tomatoes are delicious & so is this film. Ciao!

fgt buddy carrying idgie after he gets her to come down

fgt buddy went up tree to get young idgie to come down to get dressed for wedding

fgt idgine when little in church for wedding b4 buddy is killed

fgt ruth walking across resevoir hearing buddy telling his story about the ducks & lake freezing

fried green tomatoes buddy ruth & idgie shortly before buddy is killed by trainFried Green Tomatoes Buddy Ruth & Idgie shortly before Buddy is killed by train. This totally devastates Idgie & she withdraws from the world. The only person who can reach her is Ruth.

fried_green_tomatoes waving to buddy on train tracks b4 they know train is coming

MCDFRGR EC009

Fried Green Tomatoes (1/10) Movie CLIP – Buddy’s Accident [1991]

fgt idgie meeting frank bennett b4 he marries ruth

fgt beecharmer two photos with lines re bc

fgt ruth tells idgie shes a bee-charmer

Fried Green Tomatoes (2/10) Movie CLIP – The Spark Back in Marriage

fgt kathy-bates as evelyn wrapped only in cellaphane for husband

FGT idgie w arm over ruths shoulder its 4 surprise bday party for ruth

fried green tomatos

fgt ruth tells idgie shes a bee-charmer

fried-green-tomatoes two marysScene from “Fried Green Tomatoes” Idgie Threadgoode & Ruth Jamison on picnic, shortly before Idgie shows her she’s a “bee charmer.” Those are Ruth’s words to Idgie when she goes to the nearest tree loaded with honey & loads of honeybees. Idgie returns with a jar full of honey & beeswax with not a sting on her, bare arms & all.

FGT idgie w arm over ruths shoulder its 4 surprise bday party for ruth

fried green tomatoes party after party

fgt after party sitting on shore with feet in water idgie & ruth

Fried Green Tomatoes (3/10) Movie CLIP – The Best Birthday [1991]

Fried Green Tomatoes before the rescue Ruth & Idgie

Fried Green Tomatoes Idgie goes to visit Ruth after she is married. Ruth is acting strange & is hiding a huge bruise on the side of her face her husband put their. Idgie leaves against her better judgment.

fgt ruth trying to keep idgie from seeing bruise on her face at husbands place

fgt array of idgie ruth frank bennett nasty as can be bruise on ruths face

Scene from “Fried Green Tomatoes” Idgie Threadgoode & Ruth Jamison matched up from time of youth & on top, after they have grown & Ruth is supposed to have been a good influence on her. I feel she was & is. She rescues Ruth from her abusive brute of a husband & they are finally able to live together & eventually raise the baby Ruth was pregnant with at the time of the rescue.

fried-green-tomatoes bastard husband throws ruth down stairs while she is pregnant when rescuedFried Green Tomatoes Ruth’s bastard husband won’t let Ruth go without being a pr*ck, so he puts his foot on her back and pushes her down the stairs while she is pregnant.

fried green tomatoes idgie rescue day of ruthFried Green Tomatoes Idgie stands up to Ruth’s husband & tells him if he ever touches her again she would kill him.

fgt idgie to frank bennett if you ever touch her again i'll kill you gif

fried-green-tomatoes the escape with ruthFried Green Tomatoes Idgie brought along her brother & her loyal friend, who also does the best barbeque for the Whistlestop Cafe. They both pose a threat to Ruth’s husband but Idgie’s friend threatens him, which could be dangerous for him because he is black & Ruth’s husband we later find out is a member of the KKK.

Fried Green Tomatoes (4/10) Movie CLIP – Ruth Leaves Frank [1991]

idgie threadgoode & ruth jamison fried green tomatoesScene from “Fried Green Tomatoes” Idgie Threadgoode & Ruth Jamison matched up from time of youth & on top, after they have grown & Ruth is supposed to have been a good influence on her. I feel she was & is. She rescues Ruth from her abusive brute of a husband & they are finally able to live together & eventually raise the baby Ruth was pregnant with at the time of the rescue.

fried green tomatoes after rescue baby born set up whitlestop cafeFried Green Tomatoes Ruth, her baby boy & Idgie set up a life together. They open up the Whistlestop Cafe, which has the best barbeque like no other & all are welcome. No prejudice from them but their patrons aren’t as generous. But then they’re living in the times where everything is rough, but no one objects to their love.

fgt idgie ruth after food fight at cafe disagreement over taste of fgts

Fried Green Tomatoes (5/10) Movie CLIP – Food Fight [1991] HD

fried-green-tomatoes photo array of idgie & ruthFried Green Tomatoes This is an array of the relationship in photos of just how close a relationship Idgie & Ruth have developed over the years they know each other. It is a love relationship like no other. Their generosity with each other is spread out into the community ten fold.


Fried Green Tomatoes (6/10) Movie CLIP – Frank Intrudes on Ruth at Whistlestop

fgt cant look at own vagina evelyn crying as she is telling it to ninny gif“How many of those hormones are you taking.” Ninny asks this of Evelyn when she doesn’t seem to calm down.

Fried Green Tomatoes (7/10) Movie CLIP – Parking Lot Rage [1991]

FGT evelyn going thru change & telling ninny she doesn't know whats wrong w her

Fried Green Tomatoes (9/10) Movie CLIP – Evelyn the Destroyer [1991]

fgt evelyn in gif ramming vwTowanda!!! “Let’s face it girls, I’m older and I have more insurance.” A great retort to some snotty bitches who just f*cked the one too many times and Evelyn Couch had it with all the BS.

FGTs ruth telling idgie she has to leave so her shithead husband wont come back idgie assures her never

fgt night frank bennett met is maker

FGT barbeque big george

fgt big george idgies friend helped her thru buddy's death does best bar-b-q

fried-green-tomatoes-barbeque big george

fried_green_tomatoes_1991_smokey lonesome_returns pic of sipsey & ws grady idgies friend

Fried Green Tomatoes rusty truck dead bastard husband

fgt grady arresting idgie fpr frank bennetts murder she wont give up who really did it

fried green tomatoes idgie on trial for murder of frank bennett

fgt idgie on stand at her trial for murder of frank bennett

Fried Green Tomatoes (8/10) Movie CLIP – Taking the Stand [1991]

fgt after buddy jrs train accident big george rushing him to car to take to hospital

fgt at buddy jrs arms funeral lost in train accident almost killed like idgies bro buddy

fried green tomatoes ruth & idgie hugging

Fried_Green_Tomatoes_at_the_Whistle_Stop_Cafe idgie & ruth hats on

Fried-Green-Tomatoes-1991-kathy-bates evelyn eating only rabbit food

Ninny & Kathy Bates with Birthday FGTs w candles

fried-green-tomatoes kathy & ninny at end wants to bring her home to live

fgt evelyn takes ninny to whistlestop to see the town

Fried green Tomatoes ninny in whistlestop w evelyn after they see honey jar in front of ruths grave

fgt whistlestop cafe window

Fried Green Tomatoes (10/10) Movie CLIP – A Lady Always Knows When to Leave (1991) HD

Idgie and Ruth Love Story Fried Green Tomatoes (FGT)

Fried Green Tomatoes – Very Sad Scene

The Love Story of Idgie & Ruth-Created by Jennifer Kiley

CAST:

Kathy Bates…….Evelyn Couch

Mary Stuart Masterson……..Idgie Threadgoode

Mary-Louise Parker…….Ruth Jamison

           Jessica Tandy…….Ninny Threadgoode

Cicely Tyson…….Sipsey

Chris O’Donnell…….Buddy Threadgoode

Stan Shaw…….Big George

Gailard Sartain…….Ed Couch

Timothy Scott…….Smokey Lonesome

Gary Basaraba…….Grady Kilgore

Lois Smith…….Mama Threadgoode

Jo Harvey Allen…….Women’s Awareness Teacher

Macon McCalman…….Prosecutor Percy

Richard Riehle…….Reverend Scroggins

Raynor Scheine…….Sheriff Curtis Smoote

Nancy Moore Atchison…….Little Idgie Threadgoode

Grayson Fricke…….Buddy Threadgoode Jr.

Haynes Brooke…….Older Julian Threadgoode

Nick Searcy…….Frank Bennett

Fried Green Tomatoes Trailer

FRIED GREEN TOMATOES (1991) – Thomas Newman – Soundtrack

Private Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id

private writings by jennifer kileyPrivate Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Published Introduction & Chapter #1 On 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On 17th September 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, psychotherapy, 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 #26 — Wizardry of Id

Tuesday 18th March 2008

Dear Annie,

I have been feeling like I am close to the edge. Shortly, after leaving our session, remembering what we talked about triggered an awful reaction inside of me. My psyche is in a full blown depression. Talking about Dr. George, feeling like he was raping me, making me have to be in a room with him again. He forced me. If I didn’t I would have lost you before I even had a chance to find you. He had no right to dangle you as a piece of candy. I submit and get raped. I say no, I lose you. How is that acceptable for a therapist to repeat my abuse on me so I will get the attention I need so badly. Why did you let him do that? Now I feel suicidal. The darkness is surrounding me. It feels like the shadow creatures in “Ghost.” They are going to pull me into Hell. Any moment I am going to be forced to kill myself.

You should have stopped him. Never agreed to his terms. Just accepted me and told him to go fuck off. I didn’t deserve to be forced, when I already made it clear I didn’t want to do what he wanted. How should I feel? How can I react any differently? Now, I am having my doubts. Are you going to protect me from my nightmares? Keep them away from my dreams? I have imagined being with you, doing therapy the right way for so long. I never thought you would be part of terms from him in order for me to be with you. Should I be disappointed or feel lucky? I got my dream therapist. Or so it seems.

You did protect me in the closure session, but I shouldn’t have had to be there. It made me furious. I felt you held me inside your power. You threw up a protective shield. I felt it. But he was there, too close, so creepy. I couldn’t look at him. My skin crawled. He was looking at me firing off lies. Just like my shadow mother did many years ago.

When I was a teenager. She came to one of my sessions with my first therapist. In front of me, she spoke words coated with black tar. All lies. Professed she had no idea what I was talking about when I said I was tortured by her. She denied ever doing anything to me. At that point, I wasn’t about to tell her about my other abusers. It was sufficient to try to confront her with my therapist to protect me. In the last moments of her presence in my therapist’s office, I just lost it. I couldn’t stand hearing the lies for a minute longer. I fired off at her a list which grew in my head since I was little, of all the abuses she committed on my flesh, my mind, my emotions. I had to cut myself off. It was a painting without a canvas to record the truth. She shook her head in denial. Making it seem to my therapist I was making the whole tale up in my imagination.

After my therapist returned from escorting her back to the waiting area, she took a seat at her desk and looked at me. All I could say to her was I am not crazy. I wasn’t lying. Her response: “Your mother is crazy. Of course, I believe you. She was lying or had buried what she had done so deep, she believed her lies. It is quite possible if she had remembered her abusing you in the horrible way she did, it would literally drive her over the edge into complete madness. It is enough she is borderline, with one step inside of madness.”

Her words reassured me I was actually sane. She told me if I was going to “lose my mind,” it would have happened while I was doing all the LSD and smoking pot. I did have grand hallucinations and moments when I thought I had lost touch with reality. LSD really can make you feel paranoid. What the fuck I was thinking, doing hallucinogens. I put them into my body. I will stop short at doing mushrooms. They are a spiritual experience. I read the whole “Bhagavad Gita” while tripping. Whoa, that books takes you to such heights of deep awareness. I felt Bliss. True Bliss. That was a worthy experience.

Annie, writing to you or just writing has made me feel a bit better. Why do people fuck with other people’s minds and lives?

I think I am freaking a little because I told you today about my letters and poems. They have been my secret for so long. Revealing I wrote to you made me feel too vulnerable. You want me to bring them to my sessions and to read you some of what I write, especially the poems. You, also, liked I was telling you the story from my script for Scottie and my film “Brief Sacrifice.” The idea of a secret society guarding Nikola Tesla’s secrets. The thought of a perfect Utopia. If anyone could pull off setting up something so grand “Tesla” could. I didn’t tell you what is in the Silver Box. I am not sure I should reveal the secret. It would ruin the mystery of the film.

It is such a cool secret. I will give you a hint. “Anywhere is possible, as long as it has happened already, somewhere in time.”

Can you guess from this clue?

I think I will write my poem for you. See if I can shake the rest of these feelings of the shadows surrounding me. Wanting to do harm to me or wanting me to do harm to myself.

I want you to know I want to trust you. What you did with him, felt like a betrayal. You conspired to force me to give in against my will and better judgement. I am not sure it will be easy for me to get past it. We need to work on not forcing me into something I don’t want to do. When I say “No,” I need to be respected. Words meant nothing to my abusers, especially the words, “NO” and “STOP.”

I am going to close the letter portion here and continue on to write my feelings into a poem. Maybe, I will better express what is happening inside my mind and heart, I do have strong feelings building up and putting pressure on my psyche. You are my wizard now. You must help me understand myself. Why I am unable to let go of my feelings, what am I feeling, and what the hell drives me. The highest concern in my head is why I cannot enjoy anything that would bring pleasure to anyone else.

Wish me luck on writing a poem for you, Annie. If it is going to be my first, I want you to see inside of me.

I am signing out on my letter to you.

Fondly,
Madison

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

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

lily open pink purple mix

rain in garden gif

Of Highest Concern
By Madison Taylor
18th March 2008

Intruder thrusts knife
Pressure pierces deep in flesh
Sensations of pain spreading

Bleeding stills body
Force penetrates privacy
Ripping away self-control

Will overpowers
Trembling from intensity
Inner strength halts invasion

© madison taylor 2008

rookie wood  2013  artist paul wood

“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

bedroom perfect high windows light

play is not just play meryl streep

Think With Words—Not Ideas

Think With Words—Not Ideas
Susan Sontag: Her Thoughts On Writin
g
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Illustrated by j. kiley
Post Created on 25th August 2013
Posted on Sunday 1st September 2013
A Writer’s Word

writing desk great setting

I have a wider range as a human being than as a writer. (With some writers, it’s the opposite.) Only a fraction of me is available to be turned into art.
(8/8/64)

***

Words have their own firmness. The word on the page may not reveal (may conceal) the flabbiness of the mind that conceived it. All thoughts are upgrades — get more clarity, definition, authority, by being in print — that is, detached from the person who thinks them.

A potential fraud — at least potential — in all writing.
(8/20/64)

***

Writing is a little door. Some fantasies, like big pieces of furniture, won’t come through.
(8/30/64)

***

If only I could feel about sex as I do about writing! That I’m the vehicle, the medium, the instrument of some force beyond myself.
(11/1/64)

***

Science fiction —
Popular mythology for contemporary negative imagination about the impersonal
(11/1/64)

quill pen fade

Greatest subject: self-seeking to transcend itself (Middlemarch, War and Peace)
Looking for self-transcendence (or metamorphosis) — the cloud of unknowing that allows perfect expressiveness (a secular myth for this)
(undated loose sheets, 1965)

***

Kafka the last story-teller in ‘serious’ literature. Nobody has known where to go from there (except imitate him)
(undated loose sheets, 1965)

***

John Dewey — ‘The ultimate function of literature is to appreciate the world, sometimes indignantly, sometimes sorrowfully, but best of all to praise when it is luckily possible.’
(1/25/65)

***

I think I am ready to learn how to write. Think with words, not with ideas.
(3/5/70)

***

‘Writing is only a substitute for living.’ — Florence Nightingale
(12/18/70)

***

French, unlike English: a language that tends to break when you bend it.
(6/21/72)

Stipula_fountain_pen

A writer, like an athlete, must ‘train’ every day. What did I do today to keep in ‘form’?
(7/5/72)

***

In ‘life,’ I don’t want to be reduced to my work. In ‘work,’ I don’t want to be reduced to my life.
My work is too austere
My life is a brutal anecdote
(3/15/73)

***

The only story that seems worth writing is a cry, a shot, a scream. A story should break the reader’s heart
[…]
The story must strike a nerve — in me. My heart should start pounding when I hear the first line in my head. I start trembling at the risk.
(6/27/73)

***

I’m now writing out of rage — and I feel a kind of Nietzschean elation. It’s tonic. I roar with laughter. I want to denounce everybody, tell everybody off. I go to my typewriter as I might go to my machine gun. But I’m safe. I don’t have to face the consequences of ‘real’ aggressivity. I’m sending out colis piégés ['booby-trapped packages'] to the world.
(7/31/73)

***

The solution to a problem — a story that you are unable to finish — is the problem. It isn’t as if the problem is one thing and the solution something else. The problem, properly understood = the solution. Instead of trying to hide or efface what limits the story, capitalize on that very limitation. State it, rail against it.
(7/31/73)

***

Talking like touching
Writing like punching somebody
(8/14/73)

Underwood Typewriter   1567x1600

Underwood Typewriter

To be a great writer:
know everything about adjectives and punctuation (rhythm)
have moral intelligence — which creates true authority in a writer
(2/6/74)

***

‘Idea’ as method of instant transport away from direct experience, carrying a tiny suitcase.
‘Idea’ as a means of miniaturizing experience, rendering it portable. Someone who regularly has ideas is — by definition — homeless.
Intellectual is a refugee from experience. In Diaspora.
What’s wrong with direct experience? Why would one ever want to flee it, by transforming it — into a brick?
(7/25/74)

***

Weakness of American poetry — it’s anti-intellectual. Great poetry has ideas.
(6/14/76)

***

Not only must I summon the courage to be a bad writer — I must dare to be truly unhappy. Desperate. And not save myself, short-circuit the despair.
By refusing to be as unhappy as I truly am, I deprive myself of subjects. I’ve nothing to write about. Every topic burns.
(6/19/76)

***

The function of writing is to explode one’s subject — transform it into something else. (Writing is a series of transformations.)
Writing means converting one’s liabilities (limitations) into advantages. For example, I don’t love what I’m writing. Okay, then — that’s also a way to write, a way that can produce interesting results.
(11/5/76)

***

‘All art aspires to the condition of music’ — this utterly nihilistic statement rests at the foundation of every moving camera style in the history of the medium. But it is a cliché, a 19th century cliché, less an aesthetic than a projection of an exhausted state of mind, less a world view than a world weariness, less a statement of vital forms than an expression of sterile decadence. There is quite another pov [point of view] about what ‘all art aspires to’ — that was Goethe’s, who put the primary art, the most aristocratic one, + the one art that cannot be made by the plebes but only gaped at with awe, + that art is architecture. Really great directors have this sense of architecture in their work — always expressive of immense line of energy, unstable + vital conduits of force.
(undated, 1977)

laptop hp colourful

One can never be alone enough to write. To see better.
(7/19/77)

***

Two kinds of writers. Those who think this life is all there is, and want to describe everything: the fall, the battle, the accouchement, the horse-race. That is, Tolstoy. And those who think this life is a kind of testing-ground (for what we don’t know — to see how much pleasure + pain we can bear or what pleasure + pain are?) and want to describe only the essentials. That is, Dostoyevsky. The two alternatives. How can one write like T. after D.? The task is to be as good as D. — as serious spiritually, + then go on from there.
(12/4/77)

***

Only thing that counts are ideas. Behind ideas are [moral] principles. Either one is serious or one is not. Must be prepared to make sacrifices. I’m not a liberal.
(12/4/77)

***

When there is no censorship the writer has no importance.
So it’s not so simple to be against censorship.
(12/7/77)

***

Imagination: — having many voices in one’s head. The freedom for that.
(5/27/78)

***

Language as a found object
(2/1/79)

***

Last novelist to be influenced by, knowledgeable about science was Aldous Huxley
One reason [there are] no more novels — There are no exciting theories of relation of society to self (sociological, historical, philosophical)
Not SO — no one is doing it, that’s all
(undated, March 1979)

tablet

There is a great deal that either has to be given up or be taken away from you if you are going to succeed in writing a body of work
(undated, March 1979)

***

To write one must wear blinkers. I’ve lost my blinkers.
Don’t be afraid to be concise!
(3/10/79)

***

A failure of nerve. About writing. (And about my life — but never mind.) I must write myself out of it.
If I am not able to write because I’m afraid of being a bad writer, then I must be a bad writer. At least I’ll be writing.
Then something else will happen. It always does.
I must write every day. Anything. Everything. Carry a notebook with me at all times, etc.
I read my bad reviews. I want to go to the bottom of it — this failure of nerve
(7/19/79)

***

The writer does not have to write. She must imagine that she must. A great book: no one is addressed, it counts as cultural surplus, it comes from the will.
(3/10/80)

***

Ordinary language is an accretion of lies. The language of literature must be, therefore, the language of transgression, a rupture of individual systems, a shattering of psychic oppression. The only function of literature lies in the uncovering of the self in history.
(3/15/80)

***

The love of books. My library is an archive of longings.
(4/26/80)

***

Making lists of words, to thicken my active vocabulary. To have puny, not just little, hoax, not just trick, mortifying, not just embarrassing, bogus, not just fake.
I could make a story out of puny, hoax, mortifying, bogus. They are a story.
(4/30/80)

alternative get high on creating by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013

susan sontag 317x345
Susan Sontag [January 16, 1933 – December 28, 2004] was an American writer and filmmaker, professor, literary icon, and political activist. Beginning with the publication of her 1964 essay “Notes on ‘Camp'”, Sontag became an international cultural and intellectual celebrity. Her best known works include On Photography, Against Interpretation, The Way We Live Now, Illness as Metaphor, Regarding the Pain of Others, The Volcano Lover and In America.

Sontag was active in writing and speaking about, or traveling to, areas of conflict, including during the Vietnam War and the Siege of Sarajevo. She wrote extensively about photography, culture and media, AIDS and illness, human rights, and communism and leftist ideology. Her often provocative essays and speeches sometimes drew criticism. The New York Review of Books called her “one of the most influential critics of her generation.”

Sexuality and Relationships:
Sontag became aware of her bisexuality during her early teens and at 15 wrote in her diary, “I feel I have lesbian tendencies (how reluctantly I write this)”. At 16, she had her first sexual encounter with a woman: “Perhaps I was drunk, after all, because it was so beautiful when H began making love to me…It had been 4:00 before we had gotten to bed…I became fully conscious that I desired her, she knew it, too”.

From 1957 to 1965, she lived with María Irene Fornés, a Cuban-American avant garde playwright and director, and was later involved with the American artist Jasper Johns. During the early 1970s, Sontag was involved romantically with Nicole Stéphane, a Rothschild banking heiress turned movie actress, and later choreographer Lucinda Childs, Harriet Sohmers Zwerling, other women, and finally photographer Annie Leibovitz, with whom Sontag maintained a relationship throughout her last decade.

In an interview in The Guardian in 2000, Sontag was quite open about being bisexual: “‘Shall I tell you about getting older?’, she says, and she is laughing. ‘When you get older, 45 plus, men stop fancying you. Or put it another way, the men I fancy don’t fancy me. I want a young man. I love beauty. So what’s new?’ She says she has been in love seven times in her life, which seems quite a lot. ‘No, hang on,’ she says. ‘Actually, it’s nine. Five women, four men.'” Many of Sontag’s obituaries failed to mention her significant same-sex relationships, most notably that with Annie Leibovitz. In response to this criticism, New York Times Public Editor, Daniel Okrent, defended the newspaper’s obituary, stating that at the time of Sontag’s death, a reporter could make no independent verification of her romantic relationship with Leibovitz (despite attempts to do so). After Sontag’s death, Newsweek published an article about Annie Leibovitz that made clear references to her decade-plus relationship with Sontag, stating that they “first met in the late ’80s, when Leibovitz photographed her for a book jacket. They never lived together, though they each had an apartment within view of the other’s”.

Sontag was quoted by Editor-in-Chief Brendan Lemon of Out magazine as saying “I grew up in a time when the modus operandi was the ‘open secret’. I’m used to that, and quite OK with it. Intellectually, I know why I haven’t spoken more about my sexuality, but I do wonder if I haven’t repressed something there to my detriment. Maybe I could have given comfort to some people if I had dealt with the subject of my private sexuality more, but it’s never been my prime mission to give comfort, unless somebody’s in drastic need. I’d rather give pleasure, or shake things up.” Edited from Wikipedia by Jennifer Kiley

Private Writings: Chapter #23 — Incredible Shrinking Mind

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #23 — Incredible Shrinking Mind
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Published Introduction & Chapter #1 On 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On 27th August 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Private Writings: Chapter #23 — Incredible Shrinking Mind

Tuesday 26th February 2008

Dear Annie,

Whoa, what a day. Two sessions. One is group. What a bloody surprise happened. Dr. George kneeled before me. I refused his calls. Scottie relayed messages. He wanted me to have a closure session. My doctor called him, at my request. Told him to stop calling me. I never wanted to see him in private again and no, I did not want to do any ending to our therapy except to never show up again.

Today, while group was going on, he abruptly interrupted, turned to me and with pleading in his voice, he offered me a deal. You, if I did a closure session with him. No way, but I looked at you with a question coming from my mouth. Keep in mind, I was just overwhelmed and in shock. From the first moment I looked into your eyes back on October 2nd 2007, I knew I wanted you to be part of my life. It was an intuitive reaction. “You would be my analyst? Do therapy with me? Is this true or am I being manipulated. I am not certain who to believe or trust. Myself, you, Annie. I know he’s too fucked up to believe. Just tell me if it’s the truth.”

You spoke gently and softly, looking directly into my eyes with complete and utter sincerity and spoke loud enough for me to hear. “Yes, I will be your new therapist. I want to be. No deal. Just yes.”

“Do I have to speak to him?”

“Only if you want to. I advise it, so you can let go. Doing it for yourself, not for him.”

“The only way I would agree to meet with him, one, not in his office, two, not alone, and three, if you, Annie would mediate. I do not ever want to be alone with him again. I don’t really want to talk to him, but if you are there to protect me, then I will agree to meet. It must be neutral territory and as soon as possible.”

“Let’s do it after group. I will find an empty office or room where we can have privacy. It will happen. You will be finished with Dr. George. After today, everyone will be finished with Dr. George. Due to Angie’s death, Dr. George is under suspicion and has been suspended as of the end of today for an undetermined amount of time. Sorry, Doctor, I feel they have a right to know. I will cover the group until we can decide on when the group should be ending. It may be four weeks. It may be six weeks. We will discuss this next week.”

Wow, what a lot to take in. Everyone was so shocked, including me. What followed was even more traumatizing and a relief like one giant balloon exploding.

We decided to stay in the same room where the group met. Everyone left except you, me, and the jack-ass. The circus act began. Dr. George went all weird, offensive and defensive. What he said made no sense to me. I refused to look at him or in his direction, not even once. The whole time, my eyes were on you. If I spoke, it was to you. Dr. George was filled with denials. He denied accusing me of being delusional, calling me crazy. He continued lying, attempting to make himself appear the innocent victim of my supposed abusive nature.

“I will tell you in my own words what the last session was like and why it ended as it did. I left in such a rage and physically smashed his office door closed during my dramatic exit. I wasn’t looking for applause. I knew if I stayed even a second longer, I would have been too vulnerable and too close to a catatonic meltdown. It was time for anger. I knew it was the only way to make a break from his literally strangling me, like I think he did with Angie.”

“Knowing she was dead, but not knowing how or by whose hands, I did not feel safe with him. He has been acting out of control. Behaving inappropriately for a therapist. Treating me with disgust. His language and words have been cruel, saying I was cruel and unfeeling. I lacked empathy or compassion. His abusive barrage in words, firing them at me like bullets. Telling me I spoke about Angie with disrespect, forgetting how she has been on me for years for being a lesbian, a queer, dyke, butch, lezzie, with no writing talent. She told me so many times my movie scripts sucked. They weren’t even high enough to get a passing grade of B. She has no concept of imagination, mystery, intelligent dialogue.”

“Angie was a rich bitch who ruled her world and had the film producer husband who hadn’t looked at her for years, so she fucks every man she meets. The definition and use of the slang word ‘cougar’ was made famous and hit the rags because of her indiscretions. She just loved the publicity. Her murder case, I use it intentionally, is eating up the headlines. ET can’t get enough. Dr. George was obsessed with her at the groups’ expense. My private sessions, when they weren’t about his obsession with himself, they would be about her. I am so sick of Angie and Dr. George, I want to go bulimic on them.

It was an absolute necessity to walk out and smash his door to wake him up. He needed to get the message directly. It was over long before we even started. He sucked the energy out of me like an intellectually emotional vampire. He wanted my mind and my imagination destroyed. He was so fucking jealous. He had already trapped my soul, which with Scottie’s help, I was somehow able to steal back. Now it is over, a fait accompli.”

“I have you Annie. You seem to be sensitive and together inside. You speak so gently but with directness. I like the way you are, the way you think, and most importantly, I love the way you make me feel inside. I feel confidence when I am around you. Also, I feel something very difficult for me to feel, trust with very little doubt and safe. You make me feel safe and protected. It’s not something I am use to experiencing. I look forward to learning to trust those inner feelings.”

I felt satisfied when the closure session was over. Dr. George mumbled as he left the room. Neither of us said anything. No goodbye. It didn’t matter. I never felt like we ever said hello. Had no idea who he was but some frustrated, self-obsessed, lonely man who said things obscene to see how far he could push the limits and disgust people. Well, he’s gone now.

Dr. George closed the door after he left the room. I turned to Annie and spoke, “Someday, I will write a story about what happened, and when I am ready, I will turn it into a film for my revenge. It will be about him, his scattered and obsessive brain with himself, sex and the male sex organ. It will, also be about the group and this Clinic, but Dr. George will be the lurid character. Writing the script and making a film should fill my need for satisfaction, renewal and recovery. My only clear memory is of meeting him and the group, the rest is a blur, until I met you and now the wild ride in trying to escape begins coming to an end.”

My heart is full and my thoughts are echoing inside my mind smashing into themselves. All I can think about clearly is, it is our time now, Annie. In two weeks, we will have our first private session. You gave me a new address. Not the Clinic. A new office makes it perfect. I wonder if it looks like I imagined?

Now I want to escape into story time. This is where I usually tell you something from my script ‘Brief Sacrifice.’ It’s going to be released soon by our production company “Infinite Imaginations, Inc. III.’ It’s getting exciting.

I’ll make it really short.

The story is heading for a huge reveal. I will admit it is about time travel. Remember the glistening silver box with no seams or possible entrance. Carter and her feline sons need to break more code they haven’t discovered yet. There is great significance and import to what is contained within. It has powers no one can imagine.

I will give you a hint. Nikola Tesla is secretly involved. Look him up. He worked on many secret projects, no one was aware of his special work. He kept them to himself and hid them away. The governments of the world were watching him. When he died young, the US government took away all his possessions, filing everything away in a secret location. If they couldn’t figure out where he hid his secrets, they weren’t going to let anyone else find them.

Remember the leather briefcase was found at an estate sale. Somehow, whoever died had the briefcase in their possession. It is necessary for Carter to track the trail backwards to find its’ origins. The adventure continues when Carter, James, Jasper and Jax hit the road with briefcase in hand. Carter is smart to hide the silver case within the old one. Seeing the old case, no one would suspect its’ contents.

What a day. It is so strange how life can turn around and be new from only a few words, seconds of discomfort and holding your breath. Now I have gained so much. I look forward, better said, I have been looking forward to working with you Annie for an unknown measurement of time. It has now arrived.

Maybe it is time, I tell you about the letters and poems I write to you. The music I chose to listen to as I write and imagine I am talking to you. Sometimes, I even say the words out loud as I write. It feels more like I am talking to you sitting across from me listening silently.

Until next week. I will wait for now, for our first session on Tuesday, March 11th. I mark the date. It’s something I like to do, remembering the important moments. Numerology, I love studying numbers. Group next week, at least he won’t be there but you will run the group. How divine is that. See you then.

I wait with anticipation for our first private talk. Maybe you can help me figure out who I am, who is hiding in the shadows of my unconscious.

With Relief I thank you for being there for me.

Fondly & Filled with Anticipation
Madison

throughout life soul mate poster

Sets & Animals for Film: Brief Sacrifice with Lead Character CARTER MCLEOD. [Portrayed by BAFTA Nominated Actor NATALIE STEPHENS] Savannah Cats are Carter’s. Screenplay: MADISON TAYLOR. Director: SCOTTIE ANDREWS Production Co.: INFINITE IMAGINATIONS, INC. [TRIPLE III] {Madison Taylor & Scottie Andrews Formed Their Production Co. 10 year ago in 1997.}

'Brief Sacrifice' English Garden 734x492

‘Brief Sacrifice’ English Garden

Every Detail in the Two Story Living Room Is Done with Precision from the Crown Moldings to the Carvings on the Fireplace  800x600

Every Detail in the Two Story Living Room Is Done with Precision from the Crown Moldings to the Carvings on the Fireplace

Purple Tulips with White Flowers and Yellow ones in background --- Photographer Unknown   2687x3061

Purple Tulips with White Flowers and Yellow ones in background — Photographer Unknown

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

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

rain in garden gif

You May Be a Fantasy
Written by Madison Taylor
Monday 25th February 2008

You may be a fantasy
But you are my fantasy.

When I am near you,
You knock me over.

The Strength of your love
Overwhelms the inside of me.

Yet we have never joined together.
This is strictly in my mind.

My psychic connection to you
Is more powerful than the sun.

You radiate energy that would
Overheat even the hottest flames.

Touch my heart.
Heal me.

Take my hand.
Let me feel you.

Smile and breathe in my soul
And the energy will flow.

You may never live in my world.
But your essence lives in my heart.

The pain blends with the love
Creating an inspirational awakening.

Stay with me
Though I may not have you.

Love me
Though we may not be lovers

I just need you.
Just need me a little.

And only for one moment.
I want you to be mine.

© madison taylor 2008

sinking streaming obstacle course by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013Sinking Streaming Obstacle Course by jk mccormack (c) jKm 2013


Beyond the Time — Iva — Ivana Ancic

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

english garden off the back marble patio  972x732English garden off the back marble patio

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 and Scottie’s kitten One of the Two—This cutie is Toker when he was a wee one

Havana Brown Cats  Madison and Scottie's kitties  1205x803

Havana Brown Cats Madison and Scottie’s kitties Toker and Mikey—I think the names are in the right order—they do look alike

Bedroom Madison and Scottie Share with High Windows --- Great During Thunderstorms & Rain

Bedroom Madison and Scottie Share with High Windows — Great During Thunderstorms & Rain

play is not just play meryl streep

Private Writings: Chapter #20 — No Sympathy For the Devil

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #20 — No Sympathy For the Devil
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Post Created 2nd August 2013
Introduction & Chapter #1 Published 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 6th August 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Private Writings: Chapter #20 — No Sympathy For the Devil

“You cursed brat! Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! melting! Oh, what a world! What a world! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness? Oooooh, look out! I’m going! Oooooh! Ooooooh!” — Wicked Witch of the West

I’m Melting! – The Wizard of Oz — Movie CLIP (1939) HD

Tuesday 5th February 2008

Annie,

I can’t believe what you announced at group today. It’s a shock beyond anything expected. What the hell happened? How could one of the members of group just die. No one has any answers. Dr. George was way too silent. His strange today was more than weird. It was eery. Remember what I told you about my last session with him. A week ago, he accused me of spreading a rumour. He told me it wasn’t true and accused me of making it up to get him in trouble. First, I never spread any rumour. Secondly, I had no idea what he was talking about. He kept saying it wasn’t true. What wasn’t true?

What I can remember is, he said, I told people, what people, he was having an affair with one of his clients. I’m not even going to theorize on this one. Now a client is dead. Someone I wasn’t really friends with either. In fact, she was a major character in the destruction of my relationship with Dr. George. He was always feeling a strong need to defend her against anything I had to say about her. I will be honest with you. She was a racist, homophobic, classist, poor excuse for a human being. I didn’t like her and she could have stabbed me to death and stepped over my body without any problem.

Now she is dead. What am I suppose to feel? Sorry, I didn’t kiss her ass. Sorry, she tore me apart any chance she had an opening in group. Let me be plain with you. She was jealous of me. I think she hated it, my being a lesbian. She hated I had a partner who loved me and cared about me. And I loved Scottie just as much. She had a husband who cheated on her or just was too damn lazy to show her any romance. He took her for granted. You heard her complaints about him. Maybe he just got tired of living with her and took the easiest and fastest way out. Murder.

I know I am sounding crass but no love or tears shall I shed for her. That may make me sound heartless but it is how I feel. It, also, doesn’t make me feel so fuzzy and warm knowing each one of us are going to have to talk to the police detectives. Not something I want to do in person. A good British detective mystery is my cup of tea but a brash and possible homicide in the old USA is not thrilling at all.

It doesn’t appear anyone knows what happened. I do feel sorry for her children. Don’t know them but they must be hurting. Trying to draw on some empathy and sympathy for her friends in the group. And Dr. George, I am beginning to get a bad feeling about him. He is going down. Meltdown, that is. Mentally, I think he has been losing it slowly for months now. This is just going to make him completely lose it. His pet is dead. What will he do now? I didn’t see him today in session. His receptionist called and cancelled our session but still kept my appointment set for next week.

Changing subject now. Angie’s death is creeping me out. Death is scary enough but having sat in the same room for many years doing therapy and a group member, like or not like, dies suddenly, no cause of death released as of yet, is just too much to take in. I need to fantasize.

How about just a touch on Brief Sacrifice? Where we left off in the screenplay, which is included in the film, Jame’s a Savannah cat belonging to Carter McLeod, author extraordinaire, has stumbled on the beginning of the solution to a riddle with a mystery attached. No one knew how to solve the code yet. Jasper, Jax and James, all three of Carter’s Savannah cats were honing in on breaking part of the solution. The first three letters of the code were S.I.T. It meant something. The initial stood for something which Carter felt would help unravel the rest of the codes letters and numbers.

“Time to get back to this.” Carter told her boys. “James, do you feel any vibes coming from the jumbled numbers or the other letters?”

James placed his right paw on what appeared to be a number this time. Carter took firm hold of his paw and lifted it. Underneath was the number 62. “What does number 62 mean? What does S.I.T. and 62 have in common?”

“James are you getting anything else? Maybe a word or name. Anything at all that makes sense.”

James reached out his right paw and places it over two different letters, the letter ‘R’ and the letter ‘M.’ When he seemed finished he crawled into his mum’s lap waiting for his reward. Carter ran her right hand from the top of James head and slowly slid her hand down the length of his body and at the end encircled his tail, finishing her petting by sliding her closed hand all the way up to the tip of his tail and then released. James purr was a contented and satisfying sound. He actually appeared to be smiling.

“Now, let us see what we have. The number 62. The letters S.I.T. and the letters R.M. What they mean, I have no idea. Maybe we should try to google them together online and see if the internet comes up with something.”

Carter opened up her laptop. Once loaded up, she opened her browser. Clicked Google on her Toolbar. The page was open to search. Carter typed in all the clues so far and waited while Google responded.

“Well, that can’t be right. Route 62 or Rotten Tomatoes review of I Heart Huckabees. That cannot possibly be right. Maybe if I enter each one separately. That’s how you gave them to us, James. Let’s give it another try.”

Once again Carter entered the first clue, but this time asked it a question about the letters. Are they initials for the title of a book or of a famous person? The S.I.T stands for the title of the book Somewhere In Time and the initials R.M. are the author’s name, Richard Matheson. A short synopsis, she reads aloud to her boys.

Somewhere in Time is the unforgettable story of a love that transcends the boundaries of time. Richard Collier, a man of the modern era, becomes obsessed with a woman of another time, a celebrated actress at the turn of the century. His fascination with Elise McKenna proves strong enough to physically transport him back to 1896, where he meets and woos the woman of his dreams. But for how long can their passion resist the relentless tide of history? Somewhere in Time inspired a 1980 film starring Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour that has become a genuine cult classic.”

“I know that movie. I love that movie. It is so romantic. I’ve seen it so many times. Why didn’t the letters click in my brain right away. James, I think you are onto something here. First thing, we need to do is get a copy of Somewhere In Time. I would wager the number 62 is a page number. Let me read a bit more.”

Carter looks down the page and finds some customer reviews of the book. She looks to see if maybe she might find something helpful. “Wow! What is this about. Here is a passage from the book I don’t remember them mentioning in the film.”

“Listen, guys, let me read this to you, ‘My name is Richard Collier. I’m thirty-six years old, a television writer by profession. I’m six foot two and weigh one hundred and eighty-seven pounds.’ I’ll move ahead to the ending line that makes me feel this is rather an important point. ‘I moved to Los Angeles in 1960. My brother moved to L.A. in 1965 and I moved into the guest house behind his house the same year. I left there this morning because I’m going to die in four to six months and thought I’d write a book about it while I traveled.’ The book is about time travel. The character telling the story is going to die. Need to think, but I don’t want to jump ahead until I find out what is written on page 62. If that is what 62 means.”

James starts to purr louder and rubbing his face on his mum’s hands. “Are you telling me James, I’m thinking in the right direction?” Purring and rubbing is getting more intense from James. Carter continues to read as she continues to pet James. Jasper and Jax decide they want in on some of the affection. They both join James in their mum’s lap, as much as they are able to fit into it and along side of it. As close as they all can get, they are singing their purrs in unison. They feel there mum’s happiness through their mum’ body.

“Here is something else, I’ll try to break it down for you three adorable cuties. According to this review by a reader of the book, which repeats some of what I read before. ‘Richard Collier is a 36-year old writer with a terminal brain tumor who falls in love with the beautiful actress, Elise McKenna. But there’s one big problem. She’s dead. She lived many years ago in another time. But that doesn’t stop Richard who figures out a way to travel back in time and win her heart.’ Travel back in time seems the relevant statement. Somewhere in Time is about time travel and romance. He discovers a photograph in a visitors room in the hotel of the actress Elise McKenna and becomes obsessed with her.”

Carter hugs each of her boys with a great big snuggle. She is smiling as her mind is traveling in all directions at once. The mystery, what if it has something to do with time travel. Is that too far fetched? “Guys, I think that is enough for today. How about some dinner? I will try to find us a copy of the book Somewhere In Time. Until we get that we can still work on the rest of the letters and numbers in the code. But I think we are way ahead on figuring this out. At least, I think and hope we are. It’s possible we are being misled. We will see. I’m not sure what it means, any of this, but sure is damned exciting. Time travel. WOW!”

Well, what a day for writing. A death, which is shocking, even if no love is lost, a life is over. In itself that is enough. But I must say my way of escaping the tragic is to write and create. Having Carter McLeod figure out a possible direction the film ‘Brief Sacrifice’ might be heading, that is satisfying and important to me. Of course, I knew it before telling you but it is fun giving you sneak peaks is fun. It, also, takes my mind off of what really happened to that person in our therapy group. It is really creepy. Not something I want to think about while Scottie is away.

I did talk to her, Scottie, that is. She is going to be home in three days. Finishing up re-filming a scene that didn’t come out right in any of the takes. So, Scottie has been spending time with an actor, female, brings out my jealousy. Scottie’s not about to get involved, but if you knew this woman, you would understand my concern. She’s shattered many relationships that appeared solid on the outside. This bitch doesn’t care whose life she wrecks. Mine, I don’t want her near.

Enough for now. I hope we will be able to schedule our first private session together really soon. It feels like I am going to need you. He missed our session this week. Next week, I intend to have it out with Dr. George. I am going to confront him. Hold nothing back. I promise you. He will receive my wrath for all his indiscretions and fucking with my head. Trying to make me feel insane, delusional, unable to see or understand what I am feeling. He is going down. I will need you to put me back together again after I fall off the wall down into my darkest hole. My prediction is I am heading down. Mania high is coming to a close with depression rising. A funny irony considering all the circumstances surrounding me.

We need to talk. Soon. Until next time.

Fondly & Needing You,
Madison

Sets & Animals for Film: Brief Sacrifice with Lead Character CARTER MCLEOD. [Portrayed by BAFTA Nominated Actor NATALIE STEPHENS] Savannah Cats are Carter’s. Screenplay: MADISON TAYLOR. Director: SCOTTIE ANDREWS

brief sacrifice library living room fireplace  970x546

film ‘Brief Sacrifice’ library living room fireplace in mansion where Carter McLeod lives with her three Savannah cats, Jasper, Jax and James.

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film ‘Brief Sacrifice’ James is one of three neutered male Savannah Cats, Carter McLeod has as her companions. He is enjoying a good lounge on his favorite sofa.

Soon Annie will get to read Madison’s Letters. Some at a time. All will be revealed in time.

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

rain in garden gif

Morning Disappears
Written by Madison Taylor
February 10th 2008

Venture in the story
Continuing on without breakage
Could the story continue on
No broken chain
No link to spare
To continue from here
Until despair wears down into nothing
Expanding energy
Nothing is there
Left to grasp

Blend together
Join the lines
Belong together
Flowing wave’s crashing
Shore pulling back again
Once more in repetition
An answer to the moon’s direction
The sea governed by the moon cycles
Stars are all one
All is one with them

Now answer
Consciousness’ stream
Finding the door freeing the words
Letting go
Follow a path long ago set
Not made but entered
Trusting it is a way
To be for now
To hunt the seas of old
Begin today
Starting again
Try not to break the bond
It connects
The next strand

With no holes to stop the flow
No one falling between the cracks
The earth opens up her crust
Sucks us all inside
Boils the remains
There will be hell

Now longing for the sea
Under the waves
Covering over us
Not swimming to survive another breath
Stars photograph their memories
Imagery from shining creatures
From the darkest of deeps
No eyes have seen

Humans contain in their visions
Salty kisses on eyelashes
Wiping away the blurriness of tears
Convey feelings following close
Songs lamenting
Repeating the vanishing
Disappearing tricks of death

Beating heads
Bashing the brains inside
With senses to understand
There is no understanding
Just an illusion guided
By a magician with mirrors
Reflecting nothing seen or lost
Not revealed

Without meaning
Truly nothing exists
Beyond a pin prick in the flesh
Pulled from off our bones
When they melt into the soil
Water washes away the nutrients
Back to the sea
Where it is spoiled
By greed of oil breakers
They heat our flesh
To burn in hell
Just to stay warm
One long moment

Perishing into dust
Winds carry away
To farthest reaches
The unknown universe
Time repeats
Continues on with ideas
Crying salty tears
Proving feelings
Are happening

Experience life
Time to borrow
Quickly it’s taken away
Shortness vanishes
Leaving behind
Urges to scream

Lands far away
Recognize they are not alone
Echo returns
Neither are we
We must hurry
Nothing lasts long enough
Recording its real existence
It is stolen away again
Again and again

The teacher stops
Repeating souls in mannequin form
Until the end of repeats
It is overdone
Finished
We are no more
Does anyone want the choice
Completely coming to a close
Never to be again
Thoughts of feeling
No more pain
The choice is life
To feel
Or death
To be numb
Forever more
Life would be
The choice

© madison taylor 2008

awe-some green 1Awesome Waves — Jk McCormack (c) jKm 2013

The Rolling Stones – Sympathy For The Devil (Live) – OFFICIAL

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

english garden off the back marble patio  972x732

English garden off the back marble patio

Patrick when he was five weeks. He is a Bengal kitten. Madison gave to Scottie as a present for her Birthday. As he grows he becomes devoted to her.

Patrick when he was five weeks. He is a Bengal kitten. Madison gave to Scottie as a present for her Birthday. As he grows he becomes devoted to her.

Patrick at 3 mos is a curious fellow, always checking the unusual out 1093x479

Patrick at 3 mos is a curious fellow, always checking the unusual out

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

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. It is protected area. Patrick cannot leave property from there. He loves Scottie. They are buddies.

Awesome lighted treehouse on the estate of chateau de rocher  642x432

Awesome lighted tree-house on the estate of Chateau de Rocher. A place of escape for Madison. She liked to run away when she was a kid. Climbing trees were her favorite places to hide. Scottie had this built for Madison as their 10th Anniversary present.

play is not just play meryl streep