How wonderful to be able to make someone feel through art.

Art is freedom. It’s jumping off the cliff of uncertainty, responsibility, everything that holds us back.

When we allow ourselves to get lost in a song, photograph, painting, poem, or book, we are jetting off to hidden places in our minds. The untapped slices of our souls that remind us life is to be lived with passion and heartache.

One of the things I miss most about stripping is the actual dancing. I knew I was not on Broadway, but you couldn’t stop me from performing like I was. Music carried me. It still does.
Ever since I learned about books, I’ve been in love with words. Poetry was my seductress and Rod McKeuen, the perfect suitor for the drama queen in me.

In high school in the 80’s I had little interest in bands like The Bangles – all ears were turned to groups like Talking Heads and Bronski Beat.

Because of my skin, I gravitated toward anything alternative. I melted in the acceptance of different not only being accepted, but celebrated.

After such a reckless past, I can’t stop marveling in the fact I am still here. I am alive to appreciate every movie, song, perfect glass of Pinot and everything in between.
I love being an artist in my own mind.  I love being different. It took me a while to get here, but now that I am, I must say – the feeling is masterful.

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