Archive by Author

If Time and Money were free…

17 Jan


Galaxy

If time and money were free, what would i be doing right now? writing. singing. loving. laughing. hugging my son. hugging my husband. running on the beach. swimming in the warm pacific waters. reading a book as I absorb the heat and enlightening rays of sunshine.  giving thanks for all that is.  reverence.  smiling. expanding. telling a story.  whispering words of love in all the ears of the world. healing. freeing my self. fulfilling my destiny.

a ripple of golden solitude rolls beneath my feet.  i stand in an ocean of gold.  i hold your tiny hand.  you use to hold mine when i was little.  but i am grown.  not only in size, but in spirit.  it is my turn to lead.  to guide you.  i listen for your words, dear angel.  what is your name?

you send me a sound  i can not make out.  there are many.  and in a wave, i return.  as you said, sweet child of mine.  gold is everywhere.  gold blankets our being.  the rainbow we saw is forever imprinted on our lives.  the rainbow we chased.  we found.  the rainbow gave us a gift.  the gift is a pot of gold.  it’s a metaphor for our souls.  a multitude of dimension.  i look up and out and i see your presence in the swiftly moving clouds, edges capturing the setting sun.  shadow defines the light. we must integrate. become one. dark and light.

i saw a swirl of golden mist.  how can i explain.  layers and wisps of swirling golden light.  a galaxy, a universe hangs in front of me.  i stand in the hallway and turn toward it.  it is only there for a moment.  but i see.  i see because i should.  i can.  i need to.  this is yet another step in my quest.  my journey for clarity.  revelation. freedom. love.

most of my powers reveal in dream.  but now they integrate and i am awakening.  i watch the newly budding orchid in the shower.  i await it’s bloom.  when it opens.  i will be there.  it will be constant.  true.  reality.  at times,  i am so anxious.  so impatient.  i don’t mean to be.  curiosity and hope.  i have been a loyal servant.  i have stared within.  i have circled my experiences.  anger and loss have lifted.  not just in concept but in heart.  now i am grateful for the love.  the love they gave.  the love i gave to myself.  the love i will continue to give to all.

i am a beacon. i share this message.

because, today, time and money are free.

In the Dark of Night

28 Sep

In the safety of the night, masked in darkness, I reveal my innermost secrets.  I use no words.  In the arms of the night, masked in anonymity,  I am honest with myself.  Breathing the musky scent of the night, I am intoxicated and forget the day.  I am open.  I remember.  I know everything.  In the hold of the night, I explore the fragments of a frighten, exploited, coerced and ashamed girl.  Splintered moments become a vivid story in the blackness.  My eyes adjust to his void, I am a child and a woman in control.  Yet, I relinquish the need to be something I may not be. I will not conform to the identity that is me.  The deepest, most guilt ridden thoughts are free, in the night.  The night does not judge me.  The night accepts me, every layer, every version, as long as it is pure, as long as I am true, as long as it can lull me, watch me, unlock me.  I am. Vulnerable.  Awake.  Explorative.  Sensual.  Beautiful.  Now comes the Dawn.

Is this the Voice of Generations?

12 Sep

Okay. So the new season of The Voice, where singers audition for four famous singers and then battle until the end, just started this Monday.  It’s a three day event— yeehaw!  I am a fan.  And I’m not only a fan, I’m also a singer/songwriter that sent in a video audition submission.  I’ve got vested interest.  Now riddle me this, how is it that they can have a deadline of Sept. 17th when the show started to air on Sept. 10th?  I digress.

This year is still wonderful.  It’s better than the last…. or at least in most ways.  It’s fun to root on these folks with incredible stories of trials and tribulations in their lives that would all disappear if they get on the show, BUT I’m seeing a new trend.  Here’s the thing, I have only seen one contestant sing that was over 30 years old.  He’s a ridiculously, unique dude hailing from Scotland.  And he’s 35. The thing I really liked about the show was the fact that it wasn’t like American Idol or the others that have an age cut-off.  AI is twenty-eight.

I get it.  They want young talent, etc.  But, having sung in a band in my mid twenties into my thirties, I can honestly say that I only get better and better.  I have confidence and an understanding of my voice that I just would never ever had pre-thirties.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I WILL watch every episode of this season (Season 3) of The Voice.  Happily.  I just wish that a few more folks made it past the twenty-something gate keepers.  I think it gives the show an angle that other similar ones just don’t have and, who am I kidding, I just find it much more fun to watch. So let’s say “no” to ageism, people.  Cause it’s not just folks twenty-two and younger watching.  Grab the whole demographic.  I definitely make way more money and spend it equally as well now that I’m older.  Advertising dollars.  I’m just sayin’.

How Do I Kombucha?

21 Jun

Here’s what you’ll need.

What is Kombucha? Better yet, what in the heck is a SCOBY? Kombucha is a fermented drink. A SCOBY is the mother or baby “mushroom” that you use to make Kombucha. SCOBY stands for symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast. Well, I’m not going to really delve into the health benefits but suffice to say that Kombucha has been proven to increase the productivity of your liver function. Other claims are increased focus and energy. And some of us, just like the taste of it.

Things you’ll need to make your Kombucha:

  • Big pot (stainless steel) 8 quart
  • 4 Lipton or Tetley black tea bags
  • Large mason jar ~1.5 quart
  • less than 1/3 cup of white sugar (adjust to taste)
  • Elastic band
  • coffee filter
  • wooden spoon
  • Water
  • Apple Cider Vinegar
  • SCOBY
  • Some left over Kombucha
  • small plate

Okay. It’s really easier than it already sounds. Here’s my process. Fill up the big pot a little more than half way with water. Boil for 15 minutes. Steep tea bags for 10 minutes. Remove tea bags with wooden spoon (you can dip the spoon in the boiling water to sterilize). Add sugar. Stir until dissolves. Clean small plate with some of the hot tea water. Open large mason jar with last batch of Kombucha. Grab new small mason jars, sterilize with a little of the hot tea water (or use vinegar), pour fermented Kombucha liquid into jars and put them in fridge. Leave about 1 cup (including dregs) and SCOBY in large mason jar then poor some of the vinegar over your hands and retrieve the SCOBY, put it on the small plate and cover with coffee filter (keep any insects away). Fill the large mason jar up with new hot tea and let it sit and cool down. Once cool. Drop in your SCOBY and add a cup or two of the fremented Kombucha (last batch) into the mixture. Put the coffee filter on top of the large mason jar and adhere with an elastic band. Now put in DARK, HOT place and leave for 7-14 days. Check it at 7 days if it’s summer time and longer if it’s colder out. Poor a small amount into a glass and taste. If it’s to your liking, repeat. The longer it sits the more acidic it gets (ie: tastes like vinegar).

Once you start this process, I must admit, it is hard to stop the perpetual production. I like the taste of Kombucha. My husband, on the other hand, thinks it’s disgusting. That doesn’t stop me from asking him over and over again if he would like to try my new batch. But don’t rely on our taste buds. You decide. Give the recipe a try. Oh yeah, where do you get a SCOBY? Well, you can buy them online. Or if you’ve got something to barter with (homemade wine, beer, cookies, or a great miso soup recipe), I might just give you one.

Getting ready to store my new batch of Kombucha.

 

To Doomsday or to Not Doomsday

4 May

I have been told the end of the world is coming…  And to that, I know what my grandmother would say, “They said the end of the world was coming my entire life and it never did.”  My grandmother has since passed away at eighty-seven years young.  And her words are what I have held on to for most of my adult life when “the shit’s about to hit the fan”.  A phrase that all doomsdayers seem to quote as the raison d’etre.

As a teen, the threat of nuclear war loomed.  My dreams were riddled with sirens and obliteration.  Then there was the Y2K bug which I must admit, I stashed a fair amount of non-parishables and water, just in case.  I found myself later eating through cases of cans of Dinty Moore stew and Little Debbie sweets.  More recently, there’s been the Middle East “conflict”, 911, major floods, tornadoes, earthquakes.  The tsunami in Japan.  All “signs” of our imminent demise, right?  I’m not convinced.  Well, if you are also not convinced, then you must not be online, reading the paper or listening to the fear on the streets.  December 21st, 2012 is the end of the world as we know it.  The Mayans knew it.  And now we will have to live through it.

Now most of us know that the Mayan calendar merely starts all over again and is cyclical so the end of days is really just the transition to the beginning of the calendar again or as some like to call it, “the Galatic New Year”. Some like to, including myself, believe that this “new age” signified by December 21st will bring harmony, community, and love to our much deficient present version of the world.  A return to the feminine.  A new era of hope.  But being a Librian, the lady with scales measuring each side with equal intent, I can say with a fair amount of certainty that December 20th I will be devising an escape route and meeting destination with my family.  Just in case.

I intend…

29 Mar

I intend.  I intend.  I intend.  I believe in my intuitive abilities.  I alone create my reality.  I am creator.  My reason for living is to evolve creatively and spiritually, and to bring light and understanding to this world, my world, this layer of reality that I am presently existing within.  These are concepts I’ve been exploring in efforts to become effective and complete.  All of these ideas will come.  I understand that they must come effortlessly, fluidly, naturally.  I am opening, like petals of a flower, organic and true.  I am listening.  I am watching.  I am still.

My dreams whisper a story, my story.  Like a sweet child’s breath, my ear tingles and I know the words.  Where is this place?  What shall I do?  Please guide me.

Thank you.

I recently read “The Bringers of the Dawn” a book by Barbara Marciniak.  It was written in the early 1990s.  Many of the concepts are far out.  But I found the book to be a beacon.  A route to self-discovery.  A spark.  A support.  And a welcome tool full of encouragement to think freely.  To own your actions.  To take back power.  To break free of one’s accepted concepts and unchallenged, core fundamentals.  And to suspend thought long enough…  To fly.  To float.  To fall.  To awaken.  To rise.  To recreate.

There are many moments, images, memories or projections that I remember.  That I have carried with me on my journey.  Sometimes it’s a smell, a feel, a flicker of light or a sense.  Some have been with me since I was a child.  Others have accumulated with my experiences.  Until now, I have guessed at their meaning.  The sun beaming through me.  My feet in the cool wet sand.  I am young.  And I’m holding someone’s hand.  I’m enveloped and it’s gone.  Sometimes there’s no visual, just the sense of that moment.  A smell of the salt in the ocean air.  The warmth and protection.  The love.

I dream things that happen in my life before they happen.  I call that Deja Vu.  And when I get these feelings or Deja Vu, I have come to accept it as a sign that I’m taking the right path.  I’m going in the right direction.  This has been a comfort.  The only real way to check myself.  But then I read “Bringers” and at a crucial moment in the book, all of these seemingly random events collided and strung together like DNA connecting into a helix.  The gravity of a thought catapulted me through time, collapsing sheets of dimensions into one.  Could it be that this book was written for me?  Dawn?  Taking all of these multitudes of people, passing the book from person to person, until it finally reached me?  Until the moment in time when I might be receptive to the concept?  Using all of the words that I use, that speak directly to my sense of self?  Willing it.  Remembering that I am a renegade.  I am here to to break the system.  To bring the dawn.  To ground the message.  A tidal wave of light that will bring enlightenment, finally, and destruction of old ideologies.  We have all been working on this. I am not that ego-centric.  But my role is in the last chapter.  And now I am the main character.  And those memories and unplaceable experiences that have floated just out of reach of my comprehension have meaning.  Grave meaning.  Being born with all of the knowledge.  Only needing the understanding that I must trust myself.  My four year-old voice “No regrets.”  My six year-old voice, “Mom, the magic is gone.”  Born a healer.  A self-proclaimed old soul.  “This will be my last life, ” thinks the two year-old.  This is why Peter killed himself.  This is why Grandpa Jack died.  All soldiers.  Bringing.

My son was to be named Orion.  I was to be named Dawn.  This is our disguise.  Hurdles.  Thwarted.  Almost lost.  And one book.  Many voices channelled by one.  This is my journey.  This is why I am here.  I am a renegade.  I am Dawn.

—Real thoughts by Leigh Stimolo ©2012 and the beginning of my next creative work.  Novel or screenplay?  Still to be decided.

Transformation. He’s a She.

9 Jan

Recently, I had a deadline to write two short films and direct/produce one of them.  So I wanted to pick something, short and transformative.  I started writing a voice over (VO) of my own personal experience from when I was a kid, part of my story.   After recording the VO a few times, playing with some vocal effects and subsequently shooting myself as the main character, I grappled with a few different ideas to give it some life.  I created both a deep man’s voice filter and a high-pitched voice box filter.  One version of the piece was to make it about a  woman who’s in a wheelchair and lost her voice box.  Her small nephew comes to visit her and she gives him some words of wisdom through a story of her childhood fantasy of being Jesus Christ.  Great idea.  So many things I could juxtapose poetically revealing other layers of the character.  But I had less than a week to shoot, no time, no actors (especially no child actors, specifically six-year old girls), no one to shoot it, edit it or score it… except for myself.  Oh yeah, and no wheelchair.  I could fake one of those mechanical larynx things with part of a microphone I own… but argh!

Then there was the idea of making an on-camera transformation.  Where the VO was just this girl getting ready in the morning and putting on makeup.  By the end, she’s transgender.  I knew I wanted to be able to direct that character.  I definitely didn’t want to shoot it and be the lead.  So I went to my office mate and writing buddy, Haley.  And she willingly obliged.  I bought props at Target.  Loaded my extremely heavy equipment and headed to Bay Village.  When I got there, I was a bit unsure of how this would play out.  If you asked Haley, I’m sure she’d attest to me being frazzled.  I didn’t bring enough quarters for the meter.  The meter ran out anyway at 5pm.  Yada yada.  But, with some diet coke and a few smokes later for Haley.  I found my rhythm.  I just cleared my head of doubt and trusted myself.  Some ideas I had, flashback cutaways from childhood and adding one of those glue-on hair mustaches at the end, weren’t coming together.   The mustache wasn’t right.  It wasn’t believable enough. But, as the day flew by those ideas quickly resolved and I was editing already on set.  Haley took awesome direction and really jumped in 100%.  I couldn’t have asked for more.  So I wanted to share some pictures because Haley, who played Josephine (Joe) in Transformation, really looks cool.  Check her out.

Joe gets ready in the morning.

Josephine makes a beard.

So what have I learned?  Sometimes, you’ve gotta just push through.  And that I’m thankful for having adventurous and supportive friends.

Fantasy Football meet Fantasy Writing

4 Oct

Okay.  Fantasy Football as define by Wikipedia: a game in which participants assemble an imaginary team of real life players and score points based on those players’ actual statistical performance or their perceived contribution on the field of play. So, Fantasy Writing is kinda similar:  a post in which the writer assembles an imaginary life of real life people (which includes, most importantly, themselves) and writes in the present tense about their new life in a new town and their performance or perceived life in said town.  Basically, I want to completely change my current reality and live in the ‘now’ somewhere else.  Except, I don’t live there.  I live here, in Boston.  But let’s just use our imagination.

This is my new format for writing, my saving grace, and a way to manifest my reality.  I have shared this with Haley and she too is on board.  Don’t be confused when we start our new Fantasy Writing lives.  We’re still here and there and it’ll be great.

She talks to Angels

20 Sep

I’ve been on a path of self-discovery, a path that I’ve followed like Alice in Wonderland down the rabbit hole.  It started last spring or maybe earlier.  It spawned from feeling of being trapped in daily life and out of the need to find peace, happiness, and abundance.  That said, I gave credence to this open-ended search by also following different story ideas for my next screenplay.  At first it was background for “Death: the study of Dying”, a feature fiction screenplay about a quirky, trust-fund baby who has it all but lives in fear.  Fear of dying.  So she sets out and joins every spiritual, yoga, mediation class she can.  In the end the character, after a near death experience, finds her answer.  Another screenplay idea I’m working on is “Fight the Bear” about a girl, Jenny, who has done the right thing all her life, yet still hasn’t reaped any karmic rewards for being good.  So she decides to make her own destiny and fight her way to success.  Then there is my baby, “Repent”.  This one is also a story of exploration.  It begins with the main character pleading with God to give her another chance, a chance to get her life right.  God concedes and Bethea is sent rushing down to earth. She is reborn. We catch up with her on the eve of her 40th birthday.  She’s made wrong choices, picked the wrong guys and still hasn’t fulfilled her promise of spiritual commitment to God.  Plagued by increasing incidents with Deja Vu, night visions, intuitive coincidences, Bethea goes to a psychic for answers.  The psychic tells her that she’s had a guardian angel by her side the entire time. This starts her on her journey toward uncovering her fragile beginning and to remembering that this is her last shot at getting life right or else.

Art, creation, time, life, these are themes looping through my mind. Depending on the day, I am in triumph, full of hope.  Only to waken to the reality of my daily existence.  One without awe.  Without inspiration.  But I must will it.  I must believe it.  I must tear my way forward.  To give and to receive.  Last week I was up.  I wrote, “All things needed to move forward are converging like tiny streams to a river. Rushing and pushing me toward the glorious pool that is my destiny”.  My buddy gave me a hard time with a comment on whether it was my idea of being in the “right dimension” or is this something different.  To which I retorted, “All things are pointing to go. Whether it’s described as living in the ultimate dimension, fulfillment of ‘pre-destined’ mission in life, realizing full potential, strength-based leadership, balancing your chakras, mindful living, meditation, visualization… it’s the same message and I am listening”.  And thus, this is where I am today.  Listening, keeping an eye open for a sign, yet moving forward toward my goal.  Writing.  Thinking. Writing about writing. Living. Loving…

fit to be writing/game on

16 Sep

So, here it goes folks.  The latest and greatest idea.  To write.  In the here.  In the now.  This is me writing.

Firstly, I am determined to create a television series, worthy of Dexter and Breaking Bad. The characters already live, Rian Pedde and Penny Jones.  Better yet, the feature film already lives, Suckerpunch.  No, not the slickly produced but crappily written 2010 film.  BTW- I came up with that name before they did.  But not before the folks who also penned “Sucker Punch” screenplays in 2003, 2007, 2008, 2009.  Okay, it’s a popular name. INSTEAD, this screenplay is a character driven, vigilante, drama about a new mother and a party girl who take their coworker relationship to new heights when they experiment with the edges of danger (to semi-quote the coverage we received from Slamdance Screenplay Competition 2011.  oh, yeah, we didn’t win).  That’s right, danger.  These girls are mad as hell and they’re not gonna take it anymore.  Plus they look like the average Jane so they can get away with murder… or can they.  This Suckerpunch, was written by myself and one, Haley Hemen, 2010.  And it’s gotten some good coverage, won a table read, and made it to the semi-finals in the Script/Pitch Competition for Nextventertainment.  And undoubtedly needs to be condensed, reworked, and just may fit nicely into the episodic rockin’ television series category… to be shopped to AMC, Showtime, HBO.  So it’s out there.  In the universe.  Now let’s go to it.

This post is actually a long time coming.  It was a response to an earlier post that Haley wrote… and then was saved and almost forgotten.  But not so, dear friends.   Here it is.  Fit to be writing.  And the real meat of what’s been plaguing my self-help, seeking person is to come.  It’s a long strange trip to peaceful and happy, nomatter what self-centered a-hole you run into.  See you in a few. wink.

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