Monday, August 28, 2006


Jean Cocteau is one of my idols, His work, and life inspire me. I only recently discovered that there is a mural of his here in London. I made a definite effort one weekend to see it, I was awed to think this man created these lines, his very hand, touched these walls. Here are some photos, they do not in anyway give it the justice that it deserves, but I thought I could peak your intrest and have you make a trek to this church when in London.
The Church Notre Dame Du France, 5 Leicester Place • London WC2H 7BX

Here is the man himself (well, his self portrait), a bit of the mural, and me later.
I think my photo is a bit caravaggio-esque, No?

Ah, the sensitive artist...MY, My, My, Im a sucker for the melodramatic!
Kisses, ya'll.

Between 2 days

Ive been rather sensitive these past couple of weeks, I was nervous of what I was going to feel during these past few weeks. I am trapped between two birthdays of special significance, running only weeks apart. One for a departed love, and one for a departed brother. My love has turned inward and I heal slowly from my departed Lover, finding self worth, and slow acceptance . When I say slow, I mean slow, actually, have I accepted this? (Oh, Lord, im having an inner dialogue in a blog, how post-modern am I?)
His day I can not share with him, I only have a gratitude that he is alive, and a true wish for his happiness even without me, preferably with me, of course. And I hold on to a silly notion of our love, yes, it still lives in me for now. Like the alien baby in ALIEN.
Humor helps the hurt, although having a love baby coming out of your stomache may not be so hurtless. I love making up words. Oh, wait "hurtless" is a word.
My sweet, tough, wonderfully stubborn brother, our love was always there, sometimes a whisper in the universe, but strong, and true. His day I cannot share with him, but i have gratitude for all the moments we had together. Even the time I realized my "little brother" had grown bigger, or at least wider, than me and he was about to kick my ass. Luckily I was smarter (Id like to think) and managed to escape my certain pummeling, No matter how much my, snobish, elitist , overly critical, ass, may have deserved it.
I have a huge satisfaction that my brother's...Daniel, My brother's name Is Daniel, I have a huge satisfaction that Daniel's, killer has been found, and a hope that justice prevails this month.
Two Birthdays that have come around for the first time since they have gone from my life.
Two Birthdays I wish I could share with these Knuckleheads.
Instead, I cry..a little, who am i kidding...alot, Ive always been a crybaby. Especially, remembering the lovely moments I wish I could relive with them, and tell them... really, how much they meant to me and how much I love them.
I dont tell one because my self preservation keeps me from it , and I cant tell the other because...I cant.
I miss...too much.
I miss...alot.
Still, I do celebrate, both of these beautiful men, in my bruised heart.
And I hope that this is a whisper in the universe that they can hear.
Happy Birthday, and I love you.