It is early morning, a little after 8am. Both the children and the man have left. Peace...... Until the gardener arrives blasting outside his blower and echoing through my house. It seems whatever room I go into, they are right outside encroaching upon my this space. As I run from them.
I realize how these sounds are mirroring the madness of my mind and my thoughts of the past 2 days. Relentless. Horribly critical. Condemning. As I run from room to room, I start to laugh between my tears of utter frustration. I am trapped here. I am trapped in my mind. It is the perfect illustration of what is happening inside.
It seems Rachel and Vicky are here and they WILL be heard. I am bruised and beaten.
God, when I can see the mirror of it all. It does not make it change or hurt less....but I did laugh. And I got outside of myself for a moment and it looked like a cartoon. Me running around, crazy chichi's barking viciously, the old Lab Leon as well, the sound getting louder and louder and louder.........
The craziness of following the wild trips the mind endlessly takes me on. Without doing anything deeply creative and therapeutic it all gets locked inside of me and turns in on itself. The gift of many years of acting was exploring all my shit. And there is a lot to explore. Discover. Uncover. Recover. This process does not stop until one takes their last breath.
I want to unfold. For where I am filed, there I am a lie. Rilke
The world is so big and yet it is so small. I judge myself deeply to the core. I don't need your assistance. Thank you. This is a shallow dive back into expressing through the word. Without a plan or destination in mind. Just a sharing. Love and Light
Friday, December 2, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
"I just want to be a woman...." I said quietly......
This statement I uttered to myself a few years ago after making love with my man when he went to the bathroom....I just want to be a woman...... It has forever stuck with me as to what did I really mean by it. As I get older and my life allows me to become more and more of that woman, the knowledge deepens inside. It takes root and is beginning to grow a beautiful tree based more on truth than any I have ever lived in my life.
I never as a young person had any desire whatsoever to be in the public eye as many have. In fact, too much attention on me was paralyzing. I had modest aspirations...a hair dresser, a stewardess as they were called then, or the token "marine biologist" that all kids think they what to be at one time or another.
I remember being in a play as a very young girl, maybe 7 or 8 yrs old. It, to date, remains the only play I have ever been in. Charlotte's Web. No, I did not go up for the lead as my best friend did. I had no desire to actually BE in the play although I adored the book. I think I was assigned a mandatory role and that frightened me beyond belief.
I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was a cat who purred one little line. Only a few words which I cannot remember now. My favorite part was putting the costume together and having my face painted with whiskers. I loved to dress up, what girl doesn't. This is still a fall back costume when I am lazy on Halloween. Clip on two ears, paint a nose and whiskers, throw on a leopard jacket and voila....a cat costume. Either that or curlers with pajamas to which my Myles yells...that's what you always wear!!!!
I remember the awkwardness of my tail being stapled to the behind of my leotard. The auditorium, the seats, all the people. That familiar feeling to this day of "performing" where my heart is beating out of my chest. As it gets closer and closer to the moment when all I had to do was utter a short line starting with a ppuurrrring sound.
Well, I got through it, crouched on all fours as a cat with my back intentionally to the audience and half hidden under a table. The same table that show cased my dear friend in all her Charlotte glory. Ppppuuurrrr..... Thank God, I got the line out....
But I was told that I spoke so quietly that nobody even heard my line. Sad but true. Yet, not surprising to the deepest part of me. Show business was not in my blood, it was my destiny for a time but not something I chose. I am often fond of saying, it chose me.
What did it mean to utter and feel the lightness of just wanting to be a woman after a beautiful connection with my man. I still digest this and shall continue to. But now ....I feel it showed how for so many years of my life I have been a man in a woman's body. This is a problem I feel most women have living in this society.
A stay at home mother is almost a dirty statement. Like the scene in one of my fav films Terms of Endearment. Debra Winger is visiting her friend in L.A. (aka city of LOST ANGELS) and when she tells a group of woman she does not work and stays with her children they look at her as if she is sick. It is brilliant. The entire film is.
Women are not allowed to be just women anymore. In terms that are now seen as old fashioned. And it is to those who have the desire to be just a woman, I speak. The expectations are so high, so cruel, so not as it was intended to be. What about where the woman creates a nest and stays and cares for her babies while her hunter husband collects the food. Caveman, yes. But essential truths, that too.
I also understand that this is not appealing to many women. Some want the career and all. That is fine too. The many faces of truth. But here I only share mine. And my experience of having had a full time career and now being basically a stay at home mother. What a rude awakening it has all been.
How much judgement I too used to have for those who stayed at home. Not realizing how much work there is to do. How much more selfless an act it is. How perfectly beautiful to see each and every "first" of your baby. To know them so intimately. My baby has not left my or his fathers side for the entire 3.8yrs of his life. Even in the hospital, he was never without one or both of us at his side. I take great pride in that. It has been MY pleasure and the gift that my man has given me and our baby. It is admirable and immeasurable in its magnitude as far as I am concerned.
I used to bask in the phrase "single mother". I filled that role as best as I could. While juggling a consuming and self-indulgent career. At the expense of my sweet first born Myles Maximillian having a real mother. He had a mother-father-career person in me. I regret that for him and often tell him. And am thankful that for the past 4 years I have been a permanent fixture in his ascend into adulthood. At times, to his dismay....hehehe....but not really.
All that really drew me into acting beyond the vain ideas of a 19yr old was what my dear teacher, mentor and friend Roy London said:
Like you know that awful childhood you had, this is a place to look at it, share and heal. And that I need to have a more important reason to be there than to "get the jobs. That this work was to ahve the courage exploring things about yourself WHILE you are being filmed, not once you think you have it figured out. To seek, stumble, fall, be lost and found in the next moment...right there on film. And that if
i did not lie.....the camera would not either........
He said so many things but that will be an entire blog or chapter in my book. The man changed my life and still occupies much space in my heart...and photos on the walls of my home though he passed almost 17 yrs ago.
These words and more all struck chords deep & powerful in my soul. He made it appealing in an incredibly challenging way. Not just about being painted and trying to be sexy, as most young ingenues are pushed to do. But to go deep and illuminate your own humanness and your own unique struggle and that would then touch others truths in themselves. God willing. So grateful that such a powerful mission could be placed into my hands. Just some goofy girl from Michigan.
There is also the fact that most of us actors have a deep need to be loved. Well really...who doesn't... But that combined with an arrested development. We usually come from great dysfunction and abuse of one or many forms. Not to feel sorry for us.....it most likely is in 90 o/o of people's life experience. It is only to illustrate how that can add fuel to the "get famous" fire. A fire that no amount of fame can put out.
But for me.... in the process.... I lost a lot of myself. Or maybe, its not that I lost myself, it's that it did not allow me discover myself in an organic way as all of these "stories" were put onto me to tell. My choice.....no pity party....I am grateful and thankful for my opportunities and memories but this is a look back at it all with different eyes.
I can share that even now I have moments of losing it after having been a "working woman" for SO many years, feel lost, listen to the dogma..... But those moments are far outweighed by deep joy in the seeming mundane. Yesterday seeing my baby boy truly learning to swim for the first time. Hearing his words increase daily. Having given so much time, effort and fight to get his autistic needs met through the state.
Therapy with Christian James 5 days a week, reading book after book to get his needs met. Fighting sometimes with the Daddy as I am left to give the quick version and he feels like I am correcting him. And I am but only because I have the luxury of being in all the sessions and reading the books that his hunter, provider man allows us, his family, the family I always dreamed of.
So in those moments when I feel like I should be providing more financially, I remind myself that there are more ways than monetarily to give to a family. And I do so in abundance. Getting back more than anything my career gave me. Real love, a permanence, the joy of knowing I had a direct hand in their life's and the people they are becoming. Things that I cannot even put words to.....best put....my cup runneth over.
And just being a woman...well, it seems I am one now. One that does not try to me a man too. As my man fills that role to completion. I never dreamt of acting, I dreamt of a stable family and children to love and raise. A man to love, be my best friend and grow old with. This attention is all I have ever really wanted and needed.
So although it does continue to grow and evolve and has its inherent ups and downs.... I am now....just...a...woman.......
I never as a young person had any desire whatsoever to be in the public eye as many have. In fact, too much attention on me was paralyzing. I had modest aspirations...a hair dresser, a stewardess as they were called then, or the token "marine biologist" that all kids think they what to be at one time or another.
I remember being in a play as a very young girl, maybe 7 or 8 yrs old. It, to date, remains the only play I have ever been in. Charlotte's Web. No, I did not go up for the lead as my best friend did. I had no desire to actually BE in the play although I adored the book. I think I was assigned a mandatory role and that frightened me beyond belief.
I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was a cat who purred one little line. Only a few words which I cannot remember now. My favorite part was putting the costume together and having my face painted with whiskers. I loved to dress up, what girl doesn't. This is still a fall back costume when I am lazy on Halloween. Clip on two ears, paint a nose and whiskers, throw on a leopard jacket and voila....a cat costume. Either that or curlers with pajamas to which my Myles yells...that's what you always wear!!!!
I remember the awkwardness of my tail being stapled to the behind of my leotard. The auditorium, the seats, all the people. That familiar feeling to this day of "performing" where my heart is beating out of my chest. As it gets closer and closer to the moment when all I had to do was utter a short line starting with a ppuurrrring sound.
Well, I got through it, crouched on all fours as a cat with my back intentionally to the audience and half hidden under a table. The same table that show cased my dear friend in all her Charlotte glory. Ppppuuurrrr..... Thank God, I got the line out....
But I was told that I spoke so quietly that nobody even heard my line. Sad but true. Yet, not surprising to the deepest part of me. Show business was not in my blood, it was my destiny for a time but not something I chose. I am often fond of saying, it chose me.
What did it mean to utter and feel the lightness of just wanting to be a woman after a beautiful connection with my man. I still digest this and shall continue to. But now ....I feel it showed how for so many years of my life I have been a man in a woman's body. This is a problem I feel most women have living in this society.
A stay at home mother is almost a dirty statement. Like the scene in one of my fav films Terms of Endearment. Debra Winger is visiting her friend in L.A. (aka city of LOST ANGELS) and when she tells a group of woman she does not work and stays with her children they look at her as if she is sick. It is brilliant. The entire film is.
Women are not allowed to be just women anymore. In terms that are now seen as old fashioned. And it is to those who have the desire to be just a woman, I speak. The expectations are so high, so cruel, so not as it was intended to be. What about where the woman creates a nest and stays and cares for her babies while her hunter husband collects the food. Caveman, yes. But essential truths, that too.
I also understand that this is not appealing to many women. Some want the career and all. That is fine too. The many faces of truth. But here I only share mine. And my experience of having had a full time career and now being basically a stay at home mother. What a rude awakening it has all been.
How much judgement I too used to have for those who stayed at home. Not realizing how much work there is to do. How much more selfless an act it is. How perfectly beautiful to see each and every "first" of your baby. To know them so intimately. My baby has not left my or his fathers side for the entire 3.8yrs of his life. Even in the hospital, he was never without one or both of us at his side. I take great pride in that. It has been MY pleasure and the gift that my man has given me and our baby. It is admirable and immeasurable in its magnitude as far as I am concerned.
I used to bask in the phrase "single mother". I filled that role as best as I could. While juggling a consuming and self-indulgent career. At the expense of my sweet first born Myles Maximillian having a real mother. He had a mother-father-career person in me. I regret that for him and often tell him. And am thankful that for the past 4 years I have been a permanent fixture in his ascend into adulthood. At times, to his dismay....hehehe....but not really.
All that really drew me into acting beyond the vain ideas of a 19yr old was what my dear teacher, mentor and friend Roy London said:
Like you know that awful childhood you had, this is a place to look at it, share and heal. And that I need to have a more important reason to be there than to "get the jobs. That this work was to ahve the courage exploring things about yourself WHILE you are being filmed, not once you think you have it figured out. To seek, stumble, fall, be lost and found in the next moment...right there on film. And that if
i did not lie.....the camera would not either........
He said so many things but that will be an entire blog or chapter in my book. The man changed my life and still occupies much space in my heart...and photos on the walls of my home though he passed almost 17 yrs ago.
These words and more all struck chords deep & powerful in my soul. He made it appealing in an incredibly challenging way. Not just about being painted and trying to be sexy, as most young ingenues are pushed to do. But to go deep and illuminate your own humanness and your own unique struggle and that would then touch others truths in themselves. God willing. So grateful that such a powerful mission could be placed into my hands. Just some goofy girl from Michigan.
There is also the fact that most of us actors have a deep need to be loved. Well really...who doesn't... But that combined with an arrested development. We usually come from great dysfunction and abuse of one or many forms. Not to feel sorry for us.....it most likely is in 90 o/o of people's life experience. It is only to illustrate how that can add fuel to the "get famous" fire. A fire that no amount of fame can put out.
But for me.... in the process.... I lost a lot of myself. Or maybe, its not that I lost myself, it's that it did not allow me discover myself in an organic way as all of these "stories" were put onto me to tell. My choice.....no pity party....I am grateful and thankful for my opportunities and memories but this is a look back at it all with different eyes.
I can share that even now I have moments of losing it after having been a "working woman" for SO many years, feel lost, listen to the dogma..... But those moments are far outweighed by deep joy in the seeming mundane. Yesterday seeing my baby boy truly learning to swim for the first time. Hearing his words increase daily. Having given so much time, effort and fight to get his autistic needs met through the state.
Therapy with Christian James 5 days a week, reading book after book to get his needs met. Fighting sometimes with the Daddy as I am left to give the quick version and he feels like I am correcting him. And I am but only because I have the luxury of being in all the sessions and reading the books that his hunter, provider man allows us, his family, the family I always dreamed of.
So in those moments when I feel like I should be providing more financially, I remind myself that there are more ways than monetarily to give to a family. And I do so in abundance. Getting back more than anything my career gave me. Real love, a permanence, the joy of knowing I had a direct hand in their life's and the people they are becoming. Things that I cannot even put words to.....best put....my cup runneth over.
And just being a woman...well, it seems I am one now. One that does not try to me a man too. As my man fills that role to completion. I never dreamt of acting, I dreamt of a stable family and children to love and raise. A man to love, be my best friend and grow old with. This attention is all I have ever really wanted and needed.
So although it does continue to grow and evolve and has its inherent ups and downs.... I am now....just...a...woman.......
Monday, May 30, 2011
To tweet or not to tweet......
It is strange to see others being or to be directly attacked online. Any kind of attack is horrible enough. But online is a special kind of ugly as the person hides behind fake names. Some people seem to have nothing better to do with their evenings after work or on their weekends than to wage these blind wars on people they either do not know at all, maybe thought they knew many, many moons ago or think they know because I had a life in the public eye for almost 30 years.
I have never presented myself here to be anything other than the flawed human being I am. Doing the best I can. And sometimes failing miserably, as we as people do.... It seems so strange...... if one hates me and thinks me such a vile human being that they still come to this space, MY space to see what I have to say. I personally stay away from things and people that revolt me. Like I rarely watch the news because it seems all lies designed to keep us all in fear. And do not promote relationships when people do not respect me or my loved or have boundary issues.
It is hard to imagine that anyone would have these feelings.... as I like the rest of the world have low self-esteem. So, no, no one cares that much about me or what I do or write...or could be obsessed???!!! Why??? Isn't life complicated and difficult enough without engaging in this shit. Swimming in this kind of verbal vomit??? It is for me anyway. And hating requires a lot of energy.
On top of that, it is so destructive to one's own life and the people around them that they generate this kind of verbal warfare. I was always someone in my life who called things as I saw them. Even if I was wrong. I made a point of sharing MY truth. This is something that I still do. But I as I am older now I realize that it is just that, MY truth. Not THE truth. For as I am fond of sharing.....Truth has many faces.
And where for me it IS important and essential to share it still. It is equally if not more important to use kindness in my delivery. And to note when my perspective is not asked for or required at all. It comes for me from not feeling seen or being heard as a child. So as I grew into my 20's.... I would be heard. Yet aging teaches us, thank God and this is where I am with it now. But it is a constant work in progress.
I had left behind twitter for a bit of time because I was tired of the verbal assaults and endless harassment I received there. A place where I simply hoped to promote my book. And encountered for the most part some incredibly kind birds.... All and all, this experience has actually been a blessing. I have learned so much. I have had many surprising people and forces come to my aid as this kind of behavior is literally illegal. Not only on a karmic level, as everything you do comes back to you......... But did you know that EVERYTHING one does online is recorded??!!! Even if you erase it, there is a record of it. Any amount of erasing means nothing.....
IN this instance, I don't mind Big Brother...hahaha
My book will be out in the world. And I will not need twitter to promote it. It will be as honest and clear as I have always been here. My power and my voice will not be diminished through lies and venomous attacks of any kind. Many guardian angels are firmly in place, defending me. An interesting fact is that I find myself praying for people who commit these acts. Everyday. It must be hard to live with that ugly stuff inside. I, too, have dealt with great rage inside of myself at times. But I worked hard to get to its source not misdirect and project it onto others.
To keep my side of the street clean. This is what I work to do. And will continue.
So look inside when you read my shares.....decide from your own intuition what is real. This IS me, MY blog and the sharing of MY truth. So if you are at all interested THIS is the place to come. Thanks for all the support.
Love and Light....xxxoooxxxooo
"THIS ABOVE ALL: TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE, AND IT MUST FOLLOW, AS NIGHT THE DAY, THOU CANST NOT THEN BE FALSE TO ANY MAN."
HAMLET
I have never presented myself here to be anything other than the flawed human being I am. Doing the best I can. And sometimes failing miserably, as we as people do.... It seems so strange...... if one hates me and thinks me such a vile human being that they still come to this space, MY space to see what I have to say. I personally stay away from things and people that revolt me. Like I rarely watch the news because it seems all lies designed to keep us all in fear. And do not promote relationships when people do not respect me or my loved or have boundary issues.
It is hard to imagine that anyone would have these feelings.... as I like the rest of the world have low self-esteem. So, no, no one cares that much about me or what I do or write...or could be obsessed???!!! Why??? Isn't life complicated and difficult enough without engaging in this shit. Swimming in this kind of verbal vomit??? It is for me anyway. And hating requires a lot of energy.
On top of that, it is so destructive to one's own life and the people around them that they generate this kind of verbal warfare. I was always someone in my life who called things as I saw them. Even if I was wrong. I made a point of sharing MY truth. This is something that I still do. But I as I am older now I realize that it is just that, MY truth. Not THE truth. For as I am fond of sharing.....Truth has many faces.
And where for me it IS important and essential to share it still. It is equally if not more important to use kindness in my delivery. And to note when my perspective is not asked for or required at all. It comes for me from not feeling seen or being heard as a child. So as I grew into my 20's.... I would be heard. Yet aging teaches us, thank God and this is where I am with it now. But it is a constant work in progress.
I had left behind twitter for a bit of time because I was tired of the verbal assaults and endless harassment I received there. A place where I simply hoped to promote my book. And encountered for the most part some incredibly kind birds.... All and all, this experience has actually been a blessing. I have learned so much. I have had many surprising people and forces come to my aid as this kind of behavior is literally illegal. Not only on a karmic level, as everything you do comes back to you......... But did you know that EVERYTHING one does online is recorded??!!! Even if you erase it, there is a record of it. Any amount of erasing means nothing.....
IN this instance, I don't mind Big Brother...hahaha
My book will be out in the world. And I will not need twitter to promote it. It will be as honest and clear as I have always been here. My power and my voice will not be diminished through lies and venomous attacks of any kind. Many guardian angels are firmly in place, defending me. An interesting fact is that I find myself praying for people who commit these acts. Everyday. It must be hard to live with that ugly stuff inside. I, too, have dealt with great rage inside of myself at times. But I worked hard to get to its source not misdirect and project it onto others.
To keep my side of the street clean. This is what I work to do. And will continue.
So look inside when you read my shares.....decide from your own intuition what is real. This IS me, MY blog and the sharing of MY truth. So if you are at all interested THIS is the place to come. Thanks for all the support.
Love and Light....xxxoooxxxooo
"THIS ABOVE ALL: TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE, AND IT MUST FOLLOW, AS NIGHT THE DAY, THOU CANST NOT THEN BE FALSE TO ANY MAN."
HAMLET
Saturday, May 14, 2011
It's a new day......
I cannot teach someone to be more emotionally open and sharing. I cannot make someone come out of their self imposed prison. As children we are put into these cells. Each bar is painfully built through every day of our lives and the ignorance and abuse of our parents and society. It grows and grows until the jail is complete. An ugly gray box where light really enters...... A ugly, cold place that we have been condemned to.
The lightness of childhood lost, all at once, one is in their teenage yrs. At this age they seek to break out but have no tools to do so. They search for everything from the outside...... So they go deeper spiraling to their demise. They are more self involved, too self involved . With a strange certainty that they know everything and everyone else is wrong. Bombarded by hormones makes it worse. They still live in their cell but paint it with delusions and lies in a spectrum of colors. But it is still just the same jail. They have learned nothing of how to get out.
Years pass, layers upon layers of cover are formed. You are dying to see light again. The true connected light that you saw and felt as a child while the cell was still in its beginning stages. You continue the search in all kinds of external places seeking to fill the wrong hole. Left feeling worse than when the journey began, finding nothing......
If one is lucky you start to break out. You look honestly at yourself and your life. You chip away at these bars beginning to have the courage to understand how they were built and by whom. Life assists you by kicking your ass when you stray too far from the truth. You work.... You become someone who as difficult as it is, someone upon who NOTHING is lost.
That means breaking out of the collective lies. Of your lies, of your family, of society as a whole. It is nothing less than a violent break out. You fight those bars, you wrestle them, you saw at them, and slowly one by one they come down. You need only remove a few to escape although you had to live through the torture of each single one being built. A few choice truths being brought to light, the core ones and you can be free.
Then you must share...... You must share your discoveries....... You must be open to your brothers and sisters of the planet. We all learn from one having the courage to actually share their truth. Not shamefully hide it away. That is living in the cell again after all. Hiding behind those masks. The days of all of that are done. Change of a magnitude unfathomable is happening now. Jump on board. You will be supported in a way you could never imagine. A multitude of ways......
But it takes intense commitment and courage. Many will be left behind on your journey. I have left many family members behind on mine. We will meet again someday in another place. But here they will not hold me back. I will and have moved out of my cell onto truer truths. I encourage you to do the same.
An unexamined life is not worth living. Break out of your cell.....
Love and Light....xxxooo
The lightness of childhood lost, all at once, one is in their teenage yrs. At this age they seek to break out but have no tools to do so. They search for everything from the outside...... So they go deeper spiraling to their demise. They are more self involved, too self involved . With a strange certainty that they know everything and everyone else is wrong. Bombarded by hormones makes it worse. They still live in their cell but paint it with delusions and lies in a spectrum of colors. But it is still just the same jail. They have learned nothing of how to get out.
Years pass, layers upon layers of cover are formed. You are dying to see light again. The true connected light that you saw and felt as a child while the cell was still in its beginning stages. You continue the search in all kinds of external places seeking to fill the wrong hole. Left feeling worse than when the journey began, finding nothing......
If one is lucky you start to break out. You look honestly at yourself and your life. You chip away at these bars beginning to have the courage to understand how they were built and by whom. Life assists you by kicking your ass when you stray too far from the truth. You work.... You become someone who as difficult as it is, someone upon who NOTHING is lost.
That means breaking out of the collective lies. Of your lies, of your family, of society as a whole. It is nothing less than a violent break out. You fight those bars, you wrestle them, you saw at them, and slowly one by one they come down. You need only remove a few to escape although you had to live through the torture of each single one being built. A few choice truths being brought to light, the core ones and you can be free.
Then you must share...... You must share your discoveries....... You must be open to your brothers and sisters of the planet. We all learn from one having the courage to actually share their truth. Not shamefully hide it away. That is living in the cell again after all. Hiding behind those masks. The days of all of that are done. Change of a magnitude unfathomable is happening now. Jump on board. You will be supported in a way you could never imagine. A multitude of ways......
But it takes intense commitment and courage. Many will be left behind on your journey. I have left many family members behind on mine. We will meet again someday in another place. But here they will not hold me back. I will and have moved out of my cell onto truer truths. I encourage you to do the same.
An unexamined life is not worth living. Break out of your cell.....
Love and Light....xxxooo
Monday, April 25, 2011
silly, negative and sad people.
This is a filtered blog to protect sherilyn from the random ugliness that comes in. She does not read your vomitous comments, I do and she never sees them so don't waste your time.
Your ugly comments say all I would never want to know about you......go away lost soul.....
God bless.....
Signed,
one of her many guardian angels
p.s. sorry to those who are friends of this space but someone tried to attack her...again.
Your ugly comments say all I would never want to know about you......go away lost soul.....
God bless.....
Signed,
one of her many guardian angels
p.s. sorry to those who are friends of this space but someone tried to attack her...again.
Monday, April 4, 2011
To blog or not to blog.....
Beloved Readers,
I have gotten many inquiries as to why I have stopped writing. Out of thankfulness and respect to people that follow or just read my blog I am answering....
I am working on getting a book deal so that I can share these stories in a deeper and truer way. Much to the dismay of certain aunts in my family, there IS more to come. Here I have only scratched the surface.
So for now, I will not be blogging. That could change in 5 minutes. I give myself the right to change my mind at any point. But for now I am gonna work on a deeper revision of "Who cares if my aunt is Suzi Quatro" and submit it to publishing houses. Not that she will be the center of my story because truly....who cares???!!!! But because it is one that touches deepest my soul, up until now.
I have been doing a lot of seeking and growing in my day to day life. Now I am ready to begin this, the deepest journey of my life to date.
Please say a prayer for me and light a candle. It scares me to do this work and yet it beckons and demands I do it all at the same.
Thank you for following. Thank you for reading. Whenever I come to your mind, please affirm:
Sherilyn is in process with writing an incredible, deep and true book. It will be a bestseller.
That energy coming to me will help the most.
I do not have the fatal flaw of cowardice. It's time......
All my love,
sherri
I have gotten many inquiries as to why I have stopped writing. Out of thankfulness and respect to people that follow or just read my blog I am answering....
I am working on getting a book deal so that I can share these stories in a deeper and truer way. Much to the dismay of certain aunts in my family, there IS more to come. Here I have only scratched the surface.
So for now, I will not be blogging. That could change in 5 minutes. I give myself the right to change my mind at any point. But for now I am gonna work on a deeper revision of "Who cares if my aunt is Suzi Quatro" and submit it to publishing houses. Not that she will be the center of my story because truly....who cares???!!!! But because it is one that touches deepest my soul, up until now.
I have been doing a lot of seeking and growing in my day to day life. Now I am ready to begin this, the deepest journey of my life to date.
Please say a prayer for me and light a candle. It scares me to do this work and yet it beckons and demands I do it all at the same.
Thank you for following. Thank you for reading. Whenever I come to your mind, please affirm:
Sherilyn is in process with writing an incredible, deep and true book. It will be a bestseller.
That energy coming to me will help the most.
I do not have the fatal flaw of cowardice. It's time......
All my love,
sherri
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Darkness Falls
When I went to the Isle of Man to do this film I had no idea what was in front of me. It was myself, my Myles who was 4 at the time and our nanny Alyce. I had never heard of this exotic place and had wild imaginings as to what it would be like, most of which were realized after a very long flight when we arrived and found ourselves driving on an island with the deepest shades of green I had ever seen or smelled. Rocky pathways, nature dominating with miles and miles of beauty, quaint and vital all at once. Traveling gets one out of the sleeping bubble of one's limited, self-centered existence. To see such a place existed somewhere other than in my dreams was astonishing. It made me feel that dreams were real, that out here beyond Michigan and California were many worlds to explore.
A diverse mix of people and cultures came together to become the family of this production. People from England, Scotland, Ireland and America. Beautiful lyrical accents and pronunciations that took a bit of time to bend one's ear around. Yet, I felt so oddly at home with all these people. I belonged here somehow. I knew I had lived many lives with the people on this side of the world. Somehow, in my body sat a deep recognition that was quite new to me. It is always a surprise to travel to far away places and feel right at home. I have also at times experienced the opposite but those are others stories to be shared at another time.
During the production our little trio lived within a sweet, three bedroom house that sat on a golf course. My Myles wreaked utter havoc on this golf course, as for him it was a huge playground where he would find these little white treasure balls. He delighted in collecting them in his shirt and running back to our house with some angry golfers hot on his trail. He fancied them being dinosaur eggs as this was his utter obsession as a little one. He knew all the dinosaur's names, and if they were carnivores of herbivores. And proudly proclaimed (and does to this day) that HE is only a carnivore. It is still a fight to get the young man to eat a salad.
When I was offered this film I was told that a then somewhat unknown, but wonderful actor was doing one of the leading roles. His name was Ray Winstone. I was told to rent Gary Oldman's directorial debut called "Nil by Mouth," because he had the leading role in that as well. I have always loved Gary Oldman. He is simply brilliant, deep and poignant in whatever he touches. The film is a brutal documentryesque piece of an abusive household, it is said to be semi-autobiographical. It was heart wretchingly difficult to watch in many instances. And Ray was like a force of nature. For me it was one of those moments where I was excited and frightened all at once, and I knew I had to work with this man.
The script was interesting as well, a psychological drama that took place mostly in one house where my wealthy husband and I are held hostage by Ray, a man with a secret and a score to settle with my husband (played by Tim Dutton). As the wife, I am completely in the dark about it. I felt it would be a challenge but with good actors it could be really interesting. I knew nothing about the director Gerry Lively but my faith in Ray Winstone outshone any doubts. God knows I had worked with directors in the past who were not great but was still able to do something good in spite of them. Sad but true.
The first day on the set I had a scene with Ray. I was swimming alone in our indoor pool and he comes in and surprises/upsets me. His character was very unlike Ray. He played a quiet, internal and persnickety kind of lunar type of person. Whereas Ray is a sort of cockney, East-end boy who will not balk at "glassing someone in the head" who randomly upsets him in a pub (as happened at least one time that I know of during filming.) I noticed Ray was getting increasingly frustrated as the director spoke to him, (you have to know that following his experience with Gary Oldman would be a hard act to follow). And I was determined to get close to this incredible man, so I asked him what was going on. He promptly and conspiratorially replied with the nickname he had already given me,"Awwwww, he's givin' me some dodgy direction Shers.... Best not listen to him."
I fell in love with him. Not in a sexual way but just his character. He was so unique. I felt oddly protected by him. I knew he had my back and this proved to be true in more ways than one. Not to mention that was my introduction to one of my favorite words that I still use to this day. Dodgy. Such a perfect word to describe many situations. Ray would remind me that the real beauty is in the imperfections of people, of their actual faces, bodies and characters. Not to be sold the bullshit bill of goods Hollywood tried to sell me. I have a scar on the top of my nose between my eyes and a bump on my nose and Ray used to say that these were his favorite parts of my face. He believed that the director was "not a proper man" because he had no children. Ray was so thoroughly himself.......courageous, raw, flawed, deep, honest, sometimes scary, self destructive, a father of two daughters (at that point), a husband........ a PROPER man.
During my most difficult scene it was this proper man, Ray, that held the key to my completely letting go and going into a realm I have rarely visited in my work. It is difficult to have all the elements in place and trust enough to go really deep.... The entire film led to this moment for my character, the wife, who would now find out that her husband had been having an affair with Ray's wife and on an outing had been in a car accident where she was killed. He with his money had covered the entire event up. We did a take and I was not connected. I had since come to not rely on the director but on myself and on my fellow actors, especially Ray. But I was floundering here and it was bordering on melodrama. I was simply lost and went to the one I knew could help me. My RayMan.
I remember the feelings.....upset, lost, scared. The director after this one take was gonna move on, lame as he was, when it was just ok. I said I wanted another pass at the scene and went to privately talk with Ray. I begged please help me. That was awful and I am now getting dodgy direction if any at all. We huddled like a little mini football team head to head and he whispered to me in his darling accent. "Right, Shers....be a man in this scene. Do not think of yourself as a woman at all. Be a man and kill the motherfucker. Go at him the way another man would if confronted with this. Be physical."
It was not just the words but the energy behind what he said. He opened a door in me. Through my utter trust and respect of him. From the weeks of building a relationship. From walking through much in an honest way together he never rejected me for my honesty. He loved and embraced me for it. And now he was pushing me with mutual respect and love to allow myself to go deeper into the unknown and not to feel the need or have the limitations of being a "woman" while doing it.
The next take was a bit of a blur for me. Years of rage built up, of being lied to and being fucked with. The terrible injustices personally and collectively that I felt came flying out. I was like a wild animal. I do remember at one point holding my belly on the verge of literally throwing up. Thank God Ray had warned Tim (the husband) that I would definitely be getting physical and would be all over and I was. He also told the DP (who was using a hand held camera to follow me) that a lot of the marks (where an actor rehearses to be in the scene at certain points) were more than likely not going to be observed. He had my back....again.
At the end of the scene the crew burst into unprompted applause. I was sweaty, crying, laughing and ended up in a heap in first Ray's then my beloved makeup artist Kate's arms. It was nothing less than cathartic. Of course the uptight director did not completely approve. After all it was NOT as we rehearsed it. And he would not know magic if it bit him in the ass. He off centered asked the DP if he got it on film. And said,"Well....I didn't know THAT was gonna happen!" You cannot please everyone all the time. And I knew something special had happened during that scene and was grateful to have been able to go that far. Thinking of myself as a man in difficult scenes has become a kind of go-to tool for me in the rest of this crazy work I do. It stays with me always.
There was also a sort of theme of "death" around this trip that I only now can see in retrospect. It came in three fold. One element of this experience had to do with a desire to move to London upon finishing filming. Upon finishing the shooting, I moved into a flat in Knightsbridge with my son and nanny and had my mother begin to pack up my home. I got an agent there and I landed three jobs on beautiful little films. I then started to look for a flat to live in for a longer lease than the week to week I was occupying. During all of this I was drinking a lot, as is an English past time, and had a cold deep in my lungs that I could not seem to shake. There was a deep chill in the air of the city that went all the way to my bones. Not like Michigan, it went much deeper. I seemed to never be able to get warm bundled up as I often was.
Walking through the city, hailing the old-school black cabs, shopping at Harvey Nick's (my favorite store), it was all so familiar. The city holds so much history I could feel the ghosts of years gone by. The lyrical conversing everywhere was like a soundtrack. The unfortunate smell of "fags"(cigarettes as they are called there) permeating all restaurants. I walked around as if it were another part of me that was existing here... and it was. I was reliving past lives that the veil would not allow me to get a clear, logical glimpse of, but the feelings demanded acknowledgement. I confirmed to myself there had been many lives I had lived here......but another deep knowing came to me. That I would die in this city earlier than was intended if I were to stay.
So as is the case in my life, I was divinely protected and blocked through a series of events to not actually make the move. After many tearful goodbyes to my new found friends, the city and the seeming ghosts from the past, I reluctantly packed up and headed back to the city of lost angels. I was able to keep in touch for a while with my English counter parts and some even came to visit me. But life consumes and we all eventually got back onto our respective hamster wheels and sadly lost actual touch. But the memories live strongly in my heart and I hope in theirs as well. No one ever since called me Shers.....and no one better ever, lest they get a glass to the head.
The second element to this theme of death happened while we were filming, when Princess Diana was killed. Production shut down for a few days and I barely left my bed except to make another pot of soup. That is my comfort food and has been since I was a young child. I'm happy, I make soup. I'm sad, I make soup. Its 100 degrees outside, I make soup. I have been known in 5 star hotels to buy a crock pot, and all the ingredients and make soup. C'est moi. This time was no different. It was devastating. I don't think I knew how much Princess Diana meant to me before this. How I had taken her and her presence for granted. Why are human beings like that? Why must something be taken for us to then see its beauty? Arrogant, ignorant creatures are we at times. I have often thought to myself I don't want to be one of those people that must get gravely ill to see and embrace the beauty of my life.
I feel it was even more intense because we were across the water from London, where there was a collective morning unlike one I had experienced in my life. We were all moving through the air as if it was thick like water. We felt light, unreal and heavy all at the same time. Whatever you did Diana's face would appear in your consciousness. As if you personally knew her. And to me her ghost seemed to be screaming out that this was not an accident. How many people have we seen go like this. With an air of conspiracy around them. It's as if you can be truly good but you must hide it well because those powers that want control will take you down. All of us, once we got over the utter horror and shock felt certain this was foul play. But it would go hidden with all the other dirty secrets of a governing bodies that seek to control the masses.
The third element that completes the triad of the death theme was that of a young woman who worked on the set assisting wardrobe. A pretty "bird" (as the English call women) that seemed to have her entire life in front of her. Her name eludes me but I see her pretty face in my mind's eye. She used to be a model I was told. She was early to mid twenties at best. I was not as close to her as some of the others but we did spend a good amount of time together. After a night of partying on the Isle during filming, the birds including her came with a tale to tell.
They shared that the night before, after going to a few pubs they were exiting a place very loudly and drunkenly. This was the norm, a film production descending upon a small, quiet town. With all its pomp, pageantry and self important mind set. Our theme song of this shoot was a bawdy:
"I have whiskey drink, I have a vodka drink. Danny boy. Danny boy. Danny boy.
I get knocked down, but I get up again and you're never gonna get me down. " etc.
Whenever it came on we would scream, sing and dance to it. If it was not played it would surely be requested again and again. It was our anthem. Even at our flat, if it came on Myles and I would sing it and scream it and jump up and down. Literally. To this day when I occasionally hear it, it evokes a joy and a rebelliousness in me!
So back to the story, as these birds boisterously left a pub it seems they awoke an older woman that lived nearby that had been peacefully asleep. She angrily told them from her second story window to quiet down because the rest of the Isle was asleep. This apparently ignited an anger in the young woman in question and set her off on a verbal tirade with words spoken that would prove to be more poignant than any of us ever could've imagined. They shared with me what they said to her the next morning on the set laughing, and filled with bravado, "Shut up old woman, you're just jealous because we're young and beautiful and you're old and ugly and you have no life anymore. So bugger off!!!!"
The young woman in question said this with a kind of arrogance and self absorption that only a young person has. Dripping with the sarcasm of an "I know it all" mindset. One that is certain all is as consumed with her as she is with herself. It is a special kind of ugly for it's lack of conscience and holds zero regard for anyone else. It contains a sense of entitlement and an insatiable hole to get more, more, more of whatever it wants at the expense of whomever and whatever. I have since known other people like this which has made it much easier to identify now. In that moment, I am sure I laughed at the crazy ramblings of the birds. But a few months later those laughs would turn to shock, horror and many tears.
Once home from the Isle and London itself, my house unpacked after the premature boxing I forced my poor mother to do convinced I was moving. Myles beginning his first year of kindergarten. Busy, as was the norm.... I got a long distance call that rocked my world. It was Tara one of the birds and the key hair person from the film. She was affectionately known as my self proclaimed "sister from another planet" with her birthday a day after mine. I loved her and was closest to her of my English friends. Now here she was sobbing on the end of a dodgy cell phone connection from London. She reminded me that the young woman had moved into her flat with her upon returning from the Isle. Through her sobs and the crackling of the phone line I made out that the young woman was now dead. And to my horror, it was sweet Tara who had found her.
Many stories and speculations flooded in and out over the next few days as my phone bill soared to unbelievable heights. But after the police hunted down the young woman's boyfriend the pieces began to come together. Apparently this young woman with all her beauty and bravado had a huge hole inside of her and decided she wanted to die. She had fought with the boyfriend and supposedly got him to strangle her to death. Of course only the two of them knew the honest specifics of that fateful day. There in poor Tara's flat, on Tara's bed, forever haunting Tara's life with a memory that to the normal balanced person is unthinkable, save moments when one feels wronged by the world and wonder "wouldn't they be sad if I died."
I believe that is somewhat normal. What is not normal is to go the Syd and Nancy route. And to choose to take others with you and ruin their lives on some level. Or at least alter them until through therapy and a clear vision they can leave it where it belongs....in the past. Viewing the passed soul with compassion and knowing at least they are now free from the suffering this life presented them with.
I, to this day am haunted and amazed at the power of the spoken word. That this now deceased young woman only a few months ago screamed at this older woman, "You're just jealous because we're young and beautiful and you're old and ugly and you have no life." The irony cannot go unnoticed. That she is now in the ground and I am certain the older woman finished out her life peacefully on the Isle. That possibly spewing that kind of ugliness is detrimental to one's health. There are so many ways to consider the connection between these events. I believe there are no accidents and that we are accountable for out actions while we are here live on the planet. That everything you do will come back to you. This is the most bizarrely blatant case I recall from my life.
So Darkness Falls, as was the name of this rarely seen film, was appropriate on many levels. That light will always prevail and darkness WILL fall. That it fell upon Princess Diana and on the pretty young bird in wardrobe. I take peace in believing that she flew away to her source, the only place that can ultimately fill the hole. One has the right to make that choice, that ultimate choice. At least she did not leave behind casualties of sweet innocent children who would forever wonder if it had to do with them. And wrongly so. She left some friends like me and as adults we hurt and learn from it all. Of course her family as well, but I knew nothing of them. God blesses them as well. But make no mistake.....darkness falls.....again and again. Praise GOD!!!!!!!
A diverse mix of people and cultures came together to become the family of this production. People from England, Scotland, Ireland and America. Beautiful lyrical accents and pronunciations that took a bit of time to bend one's ear around. Yet, I felt so oddly at home with all these people. I belonged here somehow. I knew I had lived many lives with the people on this side of the world. Somehow, in my body sat a deep recognition that was quite new to me. It is always a surprise to travel to far away places and feel right at home. I have also at times experienced the opposite but those are others stories to be shared at another time.
During the production our little trio lived within a sweet, three bedroom house that sat on a golf course. My Myles wreaked utter havoc on this golf course, as for him it was a huge playground where he would find these little white treasure balls. He delighted in collecting them in his shirt and running back to our house with some angry golfers hot on his trail. He fancied them being dinosaur eggs as this was his utter obsession as a little one. He knew all the dinosaur's names, and if they were carnivores of herbivores. And proudly proclaimed (and does to this day) that HE is only a carnivore. It is still a fight to get the young man to eat a salad.
When I was offered this film I was told that a then somewhat unknown, but wonderful actor was doing one of the leading roles. His name was Ray Winstone. I was told to rent Gary Oldman's directorial debut called "Nil by Mouth," because he had the leading role in that as well. I have always loved Gary Oldman. He is simply brilliant, deep and poignant in whatever he touches. The film is a brutal documentryesque piece of an abusive household, it is said to be semi-autobiographical. It was heart wretchingly difficult to watch in many instances. And Ray was like a force of nature. For me it was one of those moments where I was excited and frightened all at once, and I knew I had to work with this man.
The script was interesting as well, a psychological drama that took place mostly in one house where my wealthy husband and I are held hostage by Ray, a man with a secret and a score to settle with my husband (played by Tim Dutton). As the wife, I am completely in the dark about it. I felt it would be a challenge but with good actors it could be really interesting. I knew nothing about the director Gerry Lively but my faith in Ray Winstone outshone any doubts. God knows I had worked with directors in the past who were not great but was still able to do something good in spite of them. Sad but true.
The first day on the set I had a scene with Ray. I was swimming alone in our indoor pool and he comes in and surprises/upsets me. His character was very unlike Ray. He played a quiet, internal and persnickety kind of lunar type of person. Whereas Ray is a sort of cockney, East-end boy who will not balk at "glassing someone in the head" who randomly upsets him in a pub (as happened at least one time that I know of during filming.) I noticed Ray was getting increasingly frustrated as the director spoke to him, (you have to know that following his experience with Gary Oldman would be a hard act to follow). And I was determined to get close to this incredible man, so I asked him what was going on. He promptly and conspiratorially replied with the nickname he had already given me,"Awwwww, he's givin' me some dodgy direction Shers.... Best not listen to him."
I fell in love with him. Not in a sexual way but just his character. He was so unique. I felt oddly protected by him. I knew he had my back and this proved to be true in more ways than one. Not to mention that was my introduction to one of my favorite words that I still use to this day. Dodgy. Such a perfect word to describe many situations. Ray would remind me that the real beauty is in the imperfections of people, of their actual faces, bodies and characters. Not to be sold the bullshit bill of goods Hollywood tried to sell me. I have a scar on the top of my nose between my eyes and a bump on my nose and Ray used to say that these were his favorite parts of my face. He believed that the director was "not a proper man" because he had no children. Ray was so thoroughly himself.......courageous, raw, flawed, deep, honest, sometimes scary, self destructive, a father of two daughters (at that point), a husband........ a PROPER man.
During my most difficult scene it was this proper man, Ray, that held the key to my completely letting go and going into a realm I have rarely visited in my work. It is difficult to have all the elements in place and trust enough to go really deep.... The entire film led to this moment for my character, the wife, who would now find out that her husband had been having an affair with Ray's wife and on an outing had been in a car accident where she was killed. He with his money had covered the entire event up. We did a take and I was not connected. I had since come to not rely on the director but on myself and on my fellow actors, especially Ray. But I was floundering here and it was bordering on melodrama. I was simply lost and went to the one I knew could help me. My RayMan.
I remember the feelings.....upset, lost, scared. The director after this one take was gonna move on, lame as he was, when it was just ok. I said I wanted another pass at the scene and went to privately talk with Ray. I begged please help me. That was awful and I am now getting dodgy direction if any at all. We huddled like a little mini football team head to head and he whispered to me in his darling accent. "Right, Shers....be a man in this scene. Do not think of yourself as a woman at all. Be a man and kill the motherfucker. Go at him the way another man would if confronted with this. Be physical."
It was not just the words but the energy behind what he said. He opened a door in me. Through my utter trust and respect of him. From the weeks of building a relationship. From walking through much in an honest way together he never rejected me for my honesty. He loved and embraced me for it. And now he was pushing me with mutual respect and love to allow myself to go deeper into the unknown and not to feel the need or have the limitations of being a "woman" while doing it.
The next take was a bit of a blur for me. Years of rage built up, of being lied to and being fucked with. The terrible injustices personally and collectively that I felt came flying out. I was like a wild animal. I do remember at one point holding my belly on the verge of literally throwing up. Thank God Ray had warned Tim (the husband) that I would definitely be getting physical and would be all over and I was. He also told the DP (who was using a hand held camera to follow me) that a lot of the marks (where an actor rehearses to be in the scene at certain points) were more than likely not going to be observed. He had my back....again.
At the end of the scene the crew burst into unprompted applause. I was sweaty, crying, laughing and ended up in a heap in first Ray's then my beloved makeup artist Kate's arms. It was nothing less than cathartic. Of course the uptight director did not completely approve. After all it was NOT as we rehearsed it. And he would not know magic if it bit him in the ass. He off centered asked the DP if he got it on film. And said,"Well....I didn't know THAT was gonna happen!" You cannot please everyone all the time. And I knew something special had happened during that scene and was grateful to have been able to go that far. Thinking of myself as a man in difficult scenes has become a kind of go-to tool for me in the rest of this crazy work I do. It stays with me always.
There was also a sort of theme of "death" around this trip that I only now can see in retrospect. It came in three fold. One element of this experience had to do with a desire to move to London upon finishing filming. Upon finishing the shooting, I moved into a flat in Knightsbridge with my son and nanny and had my mother begin to pack up my home. I got an agent there and I landed three jobs on beautiful little films. I then started to look for a flat to live in for a longer lease than the week to week I was occupying. During all of this I was drinking a lot, as is an English past time, and had a cold deep in my lungs that I could not seem to shake. There was a deep chill in the air of the city that went all the way to my bones. Not like Michigan, it went much deeper. I seemed to never be able to get warm bundled up as I often was.
Walking through the city, hailing the old-school black cabs, shopping at Harvey Nick's (my favorite store), it was all so familiar. The city holds so much history I could feel the ghosts of years gone by. The lyrical conversing everywhere was like a soundtrack. The unfortunate smell of "fags"(cigarettes as they are called there) permeating all restaurants. I walked around as if it were another part of me that was existing here... and it was. I was reliving past lives that the veil would not allow me to get a clear, logical glimpse of, but the feelings demanded acknowledgement. I confirmed to myself there had been many lives I had lived here......but another deep knowing came to me. That I would die in this city earlier than was intended if I were to stay.
So as is the case in my life, I was divinely protected and blocked through a series of events to not actually make the move. After many tearful goodbyes to my new found friends, the city and the seeming ghosts from the past, I reluctantly packed up and headed back to the city of lost angels. I was able to keep in touch for a while with my English counter parts and some even came to visit me. But life consumes and we all eventually got back onto our respective hamster wheels and sadly lost actual touch. But the memories live strongly in my heart and I hope in theirs as well. No one ever since called me Shers.....and no one better ever, lest they get a glass to the head.
The second element to this theme of death happened while we were filming, when Princess Diana was killed. Production shut down for a few days and I barely left my bed except to make another pot of soup. That is my comfort food and has been since I was a young child. I'm happy, I make soup. I'm sad, I make soup. Its 100 degrees outside, I make soup. I have been known in 5 star hotels to buy a crock pot, and all the ingredients and make soup. C'est moi. This time was no different. It was devastating. I don't think I knew how much Princess Diana meant to me before this. How I had taken her and her presence for granted. Why are human beings like that? Why must something be taken for us to then see its beauty? Arrogant, ignorant creatures are we at times. I have often thought to myself I don't want to be one of those people that must get gravely ill to see and embrace the beauty of my life.
I feel it was even more intense because we were across the water from London, where there was a collective morning unlike one I had experienced in my life. We were all moving through the air as if it was thick like water. We felt light, unreal and heavy all at the same time. Whatever you did Diana's face would appear in your consciousness. As if you personally knew her. And to me her ghost seemed to be screaming out that this was not an accident. How many people have we seen go like this. With an air of conspiracy around them. It's as if you can be truly good but you must hide it well because those powers that want control will take you down. All of us, once we got over the utter horror and shock felt certain this was foul play. But it would go hidden with all the other dirty secrets of a governing bodies that seek to control the masses.
The third element that completes the triad of the death theme was that of a young woman who worked on the set assisting wardrobe. A pretty "bird" (as the English call women) that seemed to have her entire life in front of her. Her name eludes me but I see her pretty face in my mind's eye. She used to be a model I was told. She was early to mid twenties at best. I was not as close to her as some of the others but we did spend a good amount of time together. After a night of partying on the Isle during filming, the birds including her came with a tale to tell.
They shared that the night before, after going to a few pubs they were exiting a place very loudly and drunkenly. This was the norm, a film production descending upon a small, quiet town. With all its pomp, pageantry and self important mind set. Our theme song of this shoot was a bawdy:
"I have whiskey drink, I have a vodka drink. Danny boy. Danny boy. Danny boy.
I get knocked down, but I get up again and you're never gonna get me down. " etc.
Whenever it came on we would scream, sing and dance to it. If it was not played it would surely be requested again and again. It was our anthem. Even at our flat, if it came on Myles and I would sing it and scream it and jump up and down. Literally. To this day when I occasionally hear it, it evokes a joy and a rebelliousness in me!
So back to the story, as these birds boisterously left a pub it seems they awoke an older woman that lived nearby that had been peacefully asleep. She angrily told them from her second story window to quiet down because the rest of the Isle was asleep. This apparently ignited an anger in the young woman in question and set her off on a verbal tirade with words spoken that would prove to be more poignant than any of us ever could've imagined. They shared with me what they said to her the next morning on the set laughing, and filled with bravado, "Shut up old woman, you're just jealous because we're young and beautiful and you're old and ugly and you have no life anymore. So bugger off!!!!"
The young woman in question said this with a kind of arrogance and self absorption that only a young person has. Dripping with the sarcasm of an "I know it all" mindset. One that is certain all is as consumed with her as she is with herself. It is a special kind of ugly for it's lack of conscience and holds zero regard for anyone else. It contains a sense of entitlement and an insatiable hole to get more, more, more of whatever it wants at the expense of whomever and whatever. I have since known other people like this which has made it much easier to identify now. In that moment, I am sure I laughed at the crazy ramblings of the birds. But a few months later those laughs would turn to shock, horror and many tears.
Once home from the Isle and London itself, my house unpacked after the premature boxing I forced my poor mother to do convinced I was moving. Myles beginning his first year of kindergarten. Busy, as was the norm.... I got a long distance call that rocked my world. It was Tara one of the birds and the key hair person from the film. She was affectionately known as my self proclaimed "sister from another planet" with her birthday a day after mine. I loved her and was closest to her of my English friends. Now here she was sobbing on the end of a dodgy cell phone connection from London. She reminded me that the young woman had moved into her flat with her upon returning from the Isle. Through her sobs and the crackling of the phone line I made out that the young woman was now dead. And to my horror, it was sweet Tara who had found her.
Many stories and speculations flooded in and out over the next few days as my phone bill soared to unbelievable heights. But after the police hunted down the young woman's boyfriend the pieces began to come together. Apparently this young woman with all her beauty and bravado had a huge hole inside of her and decided she wanted to die. She had fought with the boyfriend and supposedly got him to strangle her to death. Of course only the two of them knew the honest specifics of that fateful day. There in poor Tara's flat, on Tara's bed, forever haunting Tara's life with a memory that to the normal balanced person is unthinkable, save moments when one feels wronged by the world and wonder "wouldn't they be sad if I died."
I believe that is somewhat normal. What is not normal is to go the Syd and Nancy route. And to choose to take others with you and ruin their lives on some level. Or at least alter them until through therapy and a clear vision they can leave it where it belongs....in the past. Viewing the passed soul with compassion and knowing at least they are now free from the suffering this life presented them with.
I, to this day am haunted and amazed at the power of the spoken word. That this now deceased young woman only a few months ago screamed at this older woman, "You're just jealous because we're young and beautiful and you're old and ugly and you have no life." The irony cannot go unnoticed. That she is now in the ground and I am certain the older woman finished out her life peacefully on the Isle. That possibly spewing that kind of ugliness is detrimental to one's health. There are so many ways to consider the connection between these events. I believe there are no accidents and that we are accountable for out actions while we are here live on the planet. That everything you do will come back to you. This is the most bizarrely blatant case I recall from my life.
So Darkness Falls, as was the name of this rarely seen film, was appropriate on many levels. That light will always prevail and darkness WILL fall. That it fell upon Princess Diana and on the pretty young bird in wardrobe. I take peace in believing that she flew away to her source, the only place that can ultimately fill the hole. One has the right to make that choice, that ultimate choice. At least she did not leave behind casualties of sweet innocent children who would forever wonder if it had to do with them. And wrongly so. She left some friends like me and as adults we hurt and learn from it all. Of course her family as well, but I knew nothing of them. God blesses them as well. But make no mistake.....darkness falls.....again and again. Praise GOD!!!!!!!
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