Are You Going

'a' to 'z' writing prompt poster #10

A-Z Writing Challenge #10
Are you going…

all is white leading to the white magical castle


Are you going away;
the past goes with you

B, the first letter of his name;
bitter endings

Car crashes kept happening;
take them all away

D, the first letter of his name;
death, too, it happens frequently

Every time alone;
in the dark or out of safe places

Forgetting their faces;
forgetting to forget them

G, the first letter of his name;
getting beyond it never over it

Having to hide from them;
hidden closed up inside

Inside was a good girl;
outside was used

J, the first letter of her name;
getting what is not deserved

Killing was a fantasy;
wanting to make it real – not

Life was lived outside the edge;
climbing trees, lifting off the ground

Memories were illusions;
illusions happen

Near death experiences;
walking on the air

Open caskets;
kissing lips of death and cold faces

Playing dangerous games;
ending in broken, dead bodies

Quitting life;
escaping what? – the future

Reality’s not a choice;
it’s an unwanted state of mind

S, the first letter of his name;
stamp out reality, give another possibility

Trading dreams for wishes;
finding neither works

Understand: with years of therapy,
original design is gone

Violence survives it all;
courage kills you

W, is the first letter of his name;
wanting innocence to return

X-rays showed broken bones;
pain the body hates

Young, don’t know what they’re doing;
older, want their bodies back

Zig-zagging all the ghosts abounding;
I hit a tree, the end of me

© jk 2015

“Love, Cities and Memories”

NYC 2014 Winter of Blizzards

NYC 2014 Winter of Blizzards

“Love and cities are always inextricably entwined. There’s no restaurant or corner store or run-down dive in any city that doesn’t double as a monument for a lost love. I think that’s why we always stop and stare whenever we come across a girl crying in public. We sense the imprint of a memory being pressed onto the sidewalk, onto the building contours, onto the names of the streets.”

– Jay Caspian Kang, The Dead Do Not Improve

Film View: “Memory 2.0”

“Memory 2.0”  Written and Directed Dugan O’Neal

Memory 2.0 is a love-story set in a not too distant future world where virtual reality is employed by memory simulation services to help their customers relive moments in the past. Memory 2.0 takes us on an emotional journey through the protagonist’s fragile mind. Written by director Dugan O’Neal, starring Jena Malone and actor Wilson Bethel, Memory 2.0 introduces us to a vision of the future more interested in character and sentiment then special effects.

Memory 2.0 tells the story of Henry, a man desperate to hold on to his most precious mental souvenirs by reliving them through a futuristic simulation tool. Overly frequent visits down memory lane are starting to prove hazardous for our love-seeking protagonist. Crossing lines between reality and the virtual memories are beginning to blur, but Henry decides to make one last desperate attempt to connect with his lost love.

Memories are a popular theme in science-fiction film making. Taking on the subject of mental recollection is often prominent in Sci-fi features in today’s world of film making. This short compares to the feature film “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” but plays on the opposite results. In Sunshine, the point is to erase the memories, where Memory 2.0 is more a film about holding on to memories instead of deleting them. O’Neal touches on the fear many of us have considered – memory loss. Some memories, sure we want them to go away. But what about the one’s we want to remember. As our lives pass by, memories are often our most precious keepsakes, but what happens if they start to fade? How far would we go to keep them close to the surface and even relive their echoes from the past?

We all have both kinds of memories but sometimes we need to recall both sides. But in this case, the memories that mean the most to us, that slip further away each day we move further away from when they happened, makes us feel they are abandoning us or we are letting them go. When in actuality, we want them back. If we could just have that special moment back, what would we do to reach it and hold on to it forever? That is the question, I believe, this film is asking us.  jkm

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

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

Poem by Jennifer Kiley

Painting by Jk McCormack

Post Monday 5th May 2014

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

Peace of My Heart (c) jkm 2008

“Peace of My Heart” (c) jkm 2008

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

hands reaching out into rain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif
Theme to Film: Somewhere in Time – John Barry

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

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

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

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

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



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.


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

New Poetry Release: SEVEN DAYS OF ASHES ~Hymns to the Holocaust by Alan Patrick Traynor

the secret keeper:

Alan Patrick Traynor wrote a brilliant selection of poems in his new book Seven Days of Ashes. These are times to never forget ever. Alan Patrick takes you their by bravely visiting the past himself, experiencing the excruciation pain of the holocaust. Blood for ink, he etched on paper the words you will want to read and absorb into your own soul. Never must the message he brings through his words, ever be forgotten. Alan Patrick brings the truth to your minds, traveling back along the lines of his poems to places locked in its place, cemented in times always needing to be remembered. The memories are carried in his words so truthfully and feelingly. You will never be the same after you visit the past through the rawness of his words as he reveals the truth through his eyes. Jk the secret keeper

Originally posted on :

Screen Shot 2013-08-09 at 14.15.11

SEVEN DAYS OF ASHES ~Hymns to the Holocaust is the latest collection from Irish poet Alan Patrick Traynor.

Traynor has travelled immensely throughout Europe and the United States for a good half of his life, and has gathered some extraordinary skills in how he breaks into the stark meter of suffering, with a music that will haunt his words and wounds deep into your deepest heart.

‘The book was initially inspired by watching a short video documentary about the Holocaust artist Felix Nussbaum, and then began a life of its own, that gave birth to a horrific poetic viewpoint like a timeless lens into the spirit of the Holocaust.  To me, it’s as if the poems were written from an eye-witness account from the dead victims’ says Traynor, deeply affected by his subject.

The seven poems are deep veridicous spears from the soul of the poet, and are…

View original 252 more words

Private Writings: Chapter #18 — Mystery Clawed Open

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #18 — Mystery Clawed Open
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
First Published March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 16th July 2013


Private Writings: Chapter #18 — Mystery Clawed Open

Tuesday, January 29th 2008

Dear Annie,

I have something really honest to confess to you. It is letting you inside my mind. Letting you know the real person. Thoughts were going through my mind; feelings were circulating of confusion shortly after meeting you. They were starting to absorb almost all of me. Rather obsessively. I’m not a dangerous stalker or anything. Just a touch more intense than most people. If I fixate on something and it feels right to me, I have to pursue getting close. It may sound strange but I seek you. That simple. Crazy as I may sound I want you desperately to be my new analyst. We connected to you so quickly. My feelings aren’t cluttered with romantic attraction; nothing sexual intended. Yes, I admit to being attracted to you but it is more a soul connection. There’s a familiarity between us. You must notice it. A feeling we have been together before we meant on October 2nd 2007. It feels spooky but I think that is okay.

Besides the attraction, I feel I could trust you enough to open up, be honest, not hold back what I have trouble dealing with. Lately, I have been becoming more and more withdrawn from the world. My agoraphobia is making me panic at the thought of leaving the house days before I know I have to. Hours before going out, I can barely breath. My body starts to shake. I would really like to talk privately to you. I feel you could help me. It would be an incentive if I knew I would be seeing you.

Time is coming close to my friend Kristina leaving the group and the state. You do remember she mentioned it at a group session a few weeks ago. She is the only person I feel safe with in that room besides you. I use to feel close, sort of, to Robin, but she has gotten rather negative whenever we talk, so I don’t like talking to her outside of group. We use to talk on the phone for way too long. I would shake after I got off the phone with her. It is the same way I felt with my sister a number of years ago. The last time I spoke to my sister, she made an excuse for my oldest brother. He started sexually abusing me when I was 10. He gave me a pornographic book and told me to read it. The funny touching started just before that. The book was disturbing. I under exaggerate. It was sexually graphic and violent. The parts that I read turned into snuff pornography. I didn’t understand it then but now I realize he was trying to intimidate me and I think he somehow thought the sick, perverted descriptions would somehow do something to me. If he even thought that shit would arouse me, he was nuts. It sickened me and freaked me out. To this day it still disturbs me. I never told anyone what was written in that book. Even writing to you privately and knowing I am not giving these letters to you, I can’t even bring myself to write down the words to describe the sickness on those pages. Just imagine the worst and then think even more disgusting.

Losing Kristina is going to be hard for me. I know once she leaves, even though we promise to write. It will eventually stop. Or slow down until we forget each other. What it feels like to connect. Now we talk practically every day on the phone. It is sometimes brief or can last longer. She just listens to me and doesn’t judge me. It is good to have a friend like her. Robin is so different. I dread when she calls. When I get a voice-mail it makes my mind protect me by forgetting to call her back. When I write an email saying I will call, I often forget. Why I am not getting the message my brain is sending, I do not know.

I think when Kristina leaves we should try texting and maybe through IM we could chat online. I heard of this new thing called Skype. You can actually see people while you talk or you can just talk or chat by writing. The best part of it is you are in the same time together. Kristina said she would try all these things. She isn’t really that familiar with the computer but I think she will learn. With practice it should become easier for her.

Before I end this letter, you know I like to tell you another teaser about our film Brief Sacrifice with the character Carter McLeod. I got to see some outtakes. It is looking sensational and Natalie Stephens is so strikingly beautiful. I have great fantasies about her. It would make you blush if I told you what they were.

The next phase after Carter buys the briefcase at the estate sale and brings it home. She tries to open it. Jasper, Jax and James, her huge Savannah cats all want to participate in the project. They are all over her and the coffee table while Carter tries first to jiggle the fastener. It won’t give. Then an idea comes to her. She starts feeling around the surface of the briefcase. It is rather smooth leather but well worn. Her hands move carefully, being sure to caress every inch of the surface. Her cats, especially James loved this process. He wanted to help by reaching out his right paw and placing it on the side of the briefcase. He rests it there, in that exact spot and refuses to move it. Well, Carter finds this rather curious. Is her cat being psychic or just wants her attention. Carter touches his right paw and tries to lift it. James won’t let her.

“What is it James? What has you so confounded?”

James starts to rub and dig with his paw. Carter watches him and thinks of Lassie. She loved Elizabeth Taylor as a child actress. Those movies were a thrill to her. “What is it young man? James please tell me what it is you are getting at.”

James is persistent about the spot his paw is now resting on firmly and determined not to move it.

“If you would just move your paw, I could check under it to see what you have discovered.” James obliges and moves his paw just a bit to one side of the spot. Now Jasper and Jax are becoming more curious. What did their brother figure out. Carter feels the spot. Her fingers feel carefully and how strange but she feels a slight difference in the texture of the leather either side of the spot when James had rested his paw. If she wasn’t mistaken she had felt a slight scar running across the leather of the briefcase. Like someone had carefully sealed a patch of extremely fine, thin leather. It occurred to her it was over something. A hole maybe, but it didn’t feel that way. There was something being hidden. Carter was sure of it. But how could she remove or open up the scar and pull back the leather patch?

“Well, boys, what should your Mum do next? Any suggestions.” All three of them pounced on the briefcase and began to scratch at the spot James had discovered. Carter let them continue. She was concerned they might mark up the briefcase but she was more interested in what was under that flap of leather, less about any damage her babies might do. It looked like they were making progress. A slight bit of leather started to peel away from the surface of the case. Jasper was having the most success. Jax was pulling back to watch his brother and James was rubbing up against his Mum, feeling rather satisfied he had pleased her with his brilliance at detection.

The patch was giving way. More was starting to peel back. Carter joined in with Jasper. Between the two of them they had almost pulled back the patch enough to get a glimpse of what was underneath. It looked like a combination of letters and numbers. The surface was barely visible but enough to see those numbers and letters were important to know. They were determined even if they had to work all night to finish uncovering them.

Morning had finally arrived. They had succeeded at their task in uncovering what appeared to be a combination of sorts. There were letters and numbers on the surface from under the patch. They were all mixed up together but not in any sensible order that Carter could see.

And that is it for today’s letter. Next time, we will think about whether we will reveal what the letters and numbers are. Do they spell out a word or words and are the numbers in some way a combination to a lock. If a lock, to what? Is curiosity sufficiently peaked?

This is fun, Annie, teasing you this way. I know you are not getting to appreciate my tale so far but maybe I will start to send my letters to you once we have established a working relationship.

It feels so near. Dr. George is losing it rather quickly. His brain is starting to unravel to a breaking point where has begun not making much sense for the past few weeks. The pressure is showing. How could he not know he is fucking up. I see a bad future for him. Lots of trouble coming his way. In what form, my crystal ball hasn’t revealed that to me yet.

Lastly, I just have one more thought about Kristina moving away. It just feels like whenever I get close to anyone, they always seem to disappear. It is becoming more than a regular occurrence not to mean something Karmically. What is all this loss supposed to teach me? What I learn is life is painful and getting close to people is dangerous for them and me. Life altering events surround getting to know anyone close enough to care, to feel attached and to love them. I wouldn’t stop doing it no matter the pain. If I find myself attracted to someone in whatever way it occurs, I know that I cannot turn away. When the feelings kicks in, the forces of nature become too irresistible. I feel a rush from the closeness. An impossible state of being to explain, really. Just feels incredibly intense.

My lesson for the day is to love when given the gift of a person entering your life, particularly if they are as wonderful as the people I have been given in my life. I would not give one of them up no matter the pain my heart feels and the tears that have been shed when losing them. My grandmother and Tosh were the most painful to lose. I feel them with me when I need them. I know they protect me. They guard me against the darkness, even when its haunting is severe and overwhelming. We will talk to you about the darkness some other time.

Remember what I share with you, Annie. I believe we are going to get to know you. It is in the Tarot cards, and the world placed us together. How can anyone resist the Fates. When they use their powers to shift the direction of the winds in order that we meet. In the exact moment, the exact place, we both entered on the same day, time and place. One does not fight a force so powerful. It is meant to be. So, now, we must act accordingly.

That is all I have for today. It seems to be enough for now.


ATTENTION ANNIE: At this moment I am not trying to be a coward, but I feel if I hold back now or never send this to you, I am freeing myself up to write whatever without censorship. On some future date, if trust grows, I will release my letters to you. What I write in honesty, I will keep confidential. On my honour, no others shall see these pages.
Madison Taylor

Fantasy Sets for Film: BRIEF SACRIFICE with Lead Character CARTER MCLEOD. {played by BAFTA Nominated Actor NATALIE STEPHENS} Savannah Cats are Carter’s. Screenplay: MADISON TAYLOR. Director: SCOTTIE ANDREWS

brief sacrifice mansion-film set  723x458

film Brief Sacrifice mansion where main character Carter McLeod lives with her three Savannah cats, Jasper, Jax and James.

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.

James-a neutered male Savannah Cat lounging on sofa  645x499

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.

Peter Illyich Tchaikovsky Francesca da Rimini, Op. 32 (Fedoseyev) 25 min.

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

rain in garden gif

Sounds of the Hunger
Written by Madison Taylor
January 28th 2008

Sounds of “the hunger”
— a sensual response.
Shadow & soul bring immortality
as they both sing.
And in rhyming harmonies
their story they bring.
Alive with words of tales
from bells that ring.
Of truth unfolding out
from the Green of Spring.
A new rebirth is offered
and received in welcoming arms.
Away — fly away
following the offering
of many things.
Off you go
upon the strength
of a passing butterflies
gliding wings.

© madison taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Lakme (excerpt) Delibe

le chateau de rocher by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013   824x552

Le Chateau de Rocher is the home of Madison and Scottie & their three cats Mikey Toker & Patrick

english garden off the back marble patio  972x732

English garden off the back marble patio

bedroom perfect high windows lightScottie & Madison’s bedroom. Spacious & grand. The bed is usually shared
with their three cats Mikey, Toker & Patrick.

QUOTATIONS from Private Writings

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

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

“A therapeutic relationship is often more psycho-emotionally intimate than a marriage, or a romantic attachment. I know things about my patients that they would never dream of revealing to their spouses or families. Why is that? One word — trust. If you do not have a connection with a therapist, you cannot trust them. If you do not have trust, you will not expose yourself, and if you do not expose your innermost being, what good is the therapy?” — Anonymous

play is not just play meryl streep