A sacred space.

As is usual I received a few comments that were bothersome that I would like to address in a blog. I want to reiterate for those new to this blog that it is MINE to do with it as I see fit. I realize that my being deeply honest is a threat to some, especially those who feel the need to wear a mask and hide their dirty little secrets. I do not choose to do that in my life. I am an open book and will write a memoir that is just that. Starting with my childhood and how that manifests in ways in my life. Here I post beginning seeds of that memoir.

To comment on what something may or may not do to my relationship is quite arrogant. My man actually wrote about the porno issue and his lack of ability to tell the truth on HIS blog before I did. He does not have the fatal flaw of cowardice.  Obviously he and I are on the same page. Some of you may choose to live your life another way and that is fine. Truth has many faces. But this is my face and my space to share. If it is offensive to you somehow, I suggest you just don't come here to read my truth at all. But to criticize, to tell me particular entry is more of a "talk with girlfriends" or a diary entry is ludicrous and only speaks to the manner in which you live your life.

In fact, I have an entry that is called Dear Dairy because that is my goal here, to share , with no holes barred. This is also how I live my life having been born into great lies and dysfunction. It is the people with this hush attitude that are part of the great die off that the world is experiencing. The fearful, don't let them see you sweat breed that is miserably asleep. I live to blast all that bullshit into pieces and for the most part have readers that are of the new breed that want to do the same. They are my tribe and I love and cherish their support.  They have responded with deep truths of their own and THAT is the forum I choose to set up here and inhabit.

So go back to the sleep, from whence you came. Go back to your cherished pornography, go back to your life with you cracked mask firmly in place. Good luck with it all. But stay off of this sacred space where my tribe and I share the real deal. It is our birth right to step into that truth, the only real power we have and will not be criticized by the likes of you. I will delete any messages that share this stale, old, dying point of view. As I did in the spoken of case.

We are the future in all the glory that is here and coming in daily. We all grow here and dance in the light of the truth. And yes that means we can see the cockroaches scrambling to hide in the darkness of their masks. But they better move fast because we will squash them if they try ti infect this new breed with their sleep and lies.

That is all for now......

Alleged, might just be a ledge.

This morning I went to my second AA morning meeting. I have found or rather it has found me. Five minutes from my home. Interesting people with really honest shares. I am home....again. I was sober a few times in the career of my life. The most amount of time  I ever stayed  sober was just over a year. Then my beloved sponsor Tanya moved to New York so I used it as an excuse to jump off the wagon. She had kind of become my higher power. She had everything that I wanted. Then I lost her. It triggered what for me is a core issue.  One of a few actually.

So it was more  than just me just going back to my old destructive ways . It was a deep feeling of being abandoned, yet again. And so as a result, abandoning myself. This is another old pattern of mine. To believe I am not worthy of love. To look for my well being based on the outside instead of my inside. To fill the wrong hole. To believe all the false beliefs that were installed into me as a result of my young parents and their lost lives. Lineages are a bitch.

 My drugs of choice have always been smoking pot and drinking alcohol. Mostly wine. Less alcohol content. Yea, that sounds good. But all it means is that you need to drink more of it. Addictions can come in so many different sizes and shapes. Sugar, sex, food, negative thoughts, people pleasing, exercise, cleaning, computers, iphones, texting, tweeting, porno, ice cream, chocolate, buying shoes, buying clothes, hoarding.......this list could go on forever. If everyone is really honest with themselves they will find a few things that they have an addictive relationship with. It's human. But some are more dangerous than others.

For some people drinking is just a social thing. For me it was a way of life. I am by nature too sensitive and shy. So these "spirits ' enter me and I can let go. But the real question I have begun to ask is what am I letting go of ? Why do I need what is essentially a poison to let go?  Why not just let go and let God..... It seems I am running but from what and to where?  Wherever I go, there I am. So I made the decision to run no more.

At my meeting this morning in question..... some people spoke honestly of the insanity that ensued from their drinking. They spoke of the ways that drinking almost killed them. I thought to myself smugly, well, I had a high bottom. I never did anything that insane. Drinking or using never almost got to the point of killing me!!! These people are certainly far worse off then I. Psychic amnesia was filtering into me from my disease.

A few hours later I was speaking with a best friend/sister Joanie  explaining the whys of my decision to stop. Explaining the high bottom theory.  Which basically means that I was a high functioning addict. We then moved onto my recent influx of blogging and she said I really needed to start my memoir. That I had already begun with my blog. I just needed to expand more on the stories.We shared about the title  "Postcards from the ledge" based on the wonderful Carrie Fisher book. That she had addictions and was in the Hollywood scene and all. It was familiar however unoriginal in terms of actors with addictions and self destructive behavior.  But the Gods as they often do knew better regarding the blog title. It was not arbitrary.  There was a much deeper meaning  to it and one that had eluded me until that moment.

I had come up with the title in jest. As a kind of nod to Carrie Fisher's book/experience. As our conversation continued through the grocery store, a  memory came back to me that filled me with embarrassment and shame. I stopped and shuddered. Trying to shake off the memory. Wondering dare I tell my friend.......but dove in as is usually the case with me.

So the story goes:

 When I was making the film Boxing Helena I had a hotel room on the 20th floor.  Everyone also was staying across the street at a less than acceptable hotel. Elizabeth had rubbed off on me after all.  My room had a beautiful marble bathroom, goose down duvet covered comforters on a king size bed and a very large balcony that overlooked the city.  I had brought my white, deaf, blue eyed kitten Ophelia who had indeed gone mad at the hands of dear Hamlet.

One night she had escaped from the room onto the balcony and was now scaling a foot wide wall to an area where night lights illuminated the greats heights of the Nikko Buckshead, Georgia. I in my alcohol/pot induced heroic delusions of grandeur followed her out there determined to save her. On my hands and knees I went out right after her with my poor friend Susanlinn crying on the balcony behind me frightened. Rightly so. She had the brains that my addictions had erased in that moment.

I remember being up there still. It was a bit windy and that seemed to be my only worry. That and the fact that my girlfriend would not let go of my foot making it all the more difficult. The lights were so bright and hot with many bugs buzzing around them.  Ophelia was drawn to them like the moth to the flame.  I was drawn to dangerous situations too it would seem. As I grabbed her I wondered how now I would get back. Only one way, backwards while she howled her odd meow and dug her claws deep into my arm. Thank God for this film, my arms were barely seen or required..

The next day as I returned from the set and opened my traditional bottle of vino and rolled a joint. I steeped onto my balcony to find  there was now barbed wire across the entire area and a sign in bold letters to stop my demons from me performing another idiotic act like that again. Thanks to my friend.
Unfortunately the barbed wire only could contain what may happen there on the balcony. I needed it for the whole of my life for there were many situations to come.

 As I stood there in the grocery in a refrigerated section I was frozen.  Not from the chill in the air of the freezers but the chill in my bones that I too had indeed put my own life in danger. My ego of the earlier time at the meeting tucked its tail between its legs and disappeared for now. How badly I had lied to myself about that. How many countless other times had I refused to remember.

I feel it is essential to shine a light on my life as a whole. As I write my memoir it will be a life story. And how I believe my childhood (and everyone else's) informs my adult life. What core issues helped to create the emotional makeup that I struggle with everyday. This is how I was taught by my beloved teacher. This is my version of turning, facing and slaying my own dragons.

The best laid plans of mice and men.

I have a confession.....when I got the script for "Of mice and men" I had never even read the book.  I am a high school drop out and when I did drop in between all my crazy teenage dramas, reading was not my strong suit. So all I knew was that this was written by a classic American writer John Steinbeck. And that the amazing John Malkovich would be starring in the lead role. With his dear friend Gary Sinise directing and starring in it as well. That they came out of the prestigious Steppenwolf theatre in Chicago.


Theatre....like a dirty word to me. I could barely act on film but in the theatre. Never. Too many people watching you at one time. I got nervous when there were too many people on the set. I am not a ham. That is not what has kept me acting all these years. It has been to look at all my stuff so I did not go crazy in my life. Hmmmmmm, I don't think it worked.

I remember sitting on my bed in my cool little house on Cynthia street in West Hollywood. It was post "Twin Peaks"," Ruby" and "Diary of a Hit man" that my dear teacher directed me in with Forrest Whitaker. I was now mother to not only my Persian cat, Chanel but a beautiful young Akita male named Yogi. Named because he was a great teacher of patience for me. He always made me feel so safe living alone as I did.

Upon closing the last page and reading poor, sweet Lenny's inevitable demise I cried and cried and cried. To me it was a real love story between two friends. Best friends. On the surface it looked as though Lenny needed George more than the other way around. But I felt differently. They both equally needed each other, took care of each other, were life partners until the last breath. I often wondered what would become of poor George with Lenny gone. I feel he was not long on the earth after that. That he'd never make old bones.

My hair was still in a Cruella DeVille mode. I has bleached only the hair line around my face for Ruby and wore a wig over the rest. This was to avoid having a lace front wig glued to my head as is the practice. And I liked this odd look anyway. Best of both worlds. But not for auditioning for most roles I came to find out.

When I went in to meet and audition for Gary I had to put a temporary color over the platinum blond. I think we still had to do more filming or re shoots or something. So it looked a little dodgy to me but I went with it. It was better than walking in looking like a calico cat for a piece of classic American literature.

It went well and I was asked to screen test for the role with John. It was between me and two other girls. One an unknown who knew the guys from Steppenwolf.......shit!!!! The other I do not remember who it was or if I even knew. I was told later that Diane Lane was asked to test but she would not. Her loss , I"m afraid. I would have done anything to be a part of such a beautifully written, heartfelt story with this amazing cast.

It has only happened two times in my 26 year career that the director made the call to me personally to say I had gotten the role and this time was the first. It came out of nowhere and at a painful time in my life. The man I had been dating a year left me for Julia Roberts....another blog for another time.  I answered my phone and was shocked to hear Gary's scratchy voice on the other end. He simply said,"Will you be in my movie?"I am sure he never heard the same after my screaming shrieks of delight.

And so it began...... I felt so proud. I felt accomplished. John Malkovich. My first love Johnny had turned me onto him. It was one of his favorite actors and for good reason. He was and is a wonderfully unforgettable actor. He was also quite kind and low key at the screen test.

We would be filming in the Santa Inez valley. I had not ever been there. It was the perfect location with  farm land for as far as the eye could see. The production had rented me a house. Me, my best friend from high school Susie and Yogi, my Akita set out for location to settle into farm life. With one old school local store where the guys would actually meet and throw horse shoes. A millions of stars in the sky every night, I could escape the pain of my life and express it in the pain of anothers.

It was idyllic. We ran around in summer dresses and boots. Otherwise your feet would get filthy as there were many dirt paths and roads. You could smell the green in the air. And a kind of sun stroked grass.The fine  granulars of dirt seemed to get everywhere. In your ears, eyes and hair. It was all oddly charming. It made my job so much easier with all my senses responding to all of this new input.

The creating of Curley's wife......

We played very subtle but specifically with her look. Each seen carefully thought out. The most vibrant we would see her is the very first time she appears on screen and meets Lenny and George. A dress with fuchsia-purple flowers on it. And even a strong colored lip to match. Her hair finger waved to match all the movie magazines that with her records were the only joy this abused young woman had known.

 It was kind of a psychological thing that I had worked and plotted out with my beloved teacher Roy London who was still alive at the time. Gary and the costume and hair dept embraced it whole heartedly. Nothing was arbitrary.  They could only see her outside at that point. Judging this book by its cover.  And she was a threat. Because not only was she pretty but she was also needy and open. Although the later was yet to be revealed.

In each following scene, she would become less and less outwardly made up and more and more inwardly opened and revealed. That is the real beauty anyway. All the way until her very last scene where she was in a white dress with little, tiny red dots all over it. Almost like the red cross. As undone and vulnerable as we have seen her. Just kind of coming apart.

Another deeply touching thing is that Gary decided that Daisy [as I named her because she was always just called Curley's wife] was going to be written another scene to deepen an understanding of her. This was not in the book. I was so flattered. Another point for the "sad angel." And later as the film was too long, the studio suggested this scene be cut as it was not in the original. But Gary refused to cut it and found other places to trim and leave what little we saw of Daisy in tact. My hero...

 It was a scene where after Lenny broke Curley's hand and he and George are talking outside, she comes over to them to talk and connect. To tell them that Curley had broken all her records. She is crying and then she thanks Lenny for hurting him. They reject her and she runs away..... Its heartbreaking. Well, it felt that way. I don't see my work. I just feel it.

My final scene with John was the most difficult. It was a very long scene, many pages. It was also so hot in the barn. I felt so raw doing it. And I was beating myself up wanting it to be so perfect. Wanting John's and Gary's approval. Maybe I wanted my own. I should've known that whatever I do I never feel it is good enough. Again, my training.

 "No artist is pleased.... there is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction; a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others."
                                                   Martha Graham to Agnes DeMille

We shot all day. During my close up I will never forget the kindness of sweet John. I would be thinking, planning, stressing and he would tickle me and say relax, you know this. He was the type who would do the most magical takes, then walk over to his chair, sit down and read the paper. Or want to talk about the latest. He loved gossip. He was so much fun to work with.

This was the time of the Anita Hill-Clarence Thomas hearings and we would gather at my house sometimes to watch the latest footage.  The ultimate gossip. John came over and would make his amazing bruschetta. My best friend would bring us amazing pasta sauce from our favorite restaurant in LA, Madeo. We'd sit around the best thing there was to watch on TV at that point. A sign of the reality TV craze to come. John would say again and again,"They fucked....you know they fucked!!!" It was our little groups general consensus.

My friend Susie was ever present but sort in the background. So John called her the ranch wife. He said years down the line he would hear a news story of how Susie pulled out a shotgun and blew many people away.  Funny for she is sweet and mild mannered and polite. But she will eternally be..... The ranch wife. We still laugh about this. So far, she has not lost it. But did, by her own admission come close a few times. Who hasn't???

The story would not be complete if I did not say that I was not completely proud of all of my actions while I was making this film. I would not hurt anyone to say why specifically. But if you happen to read this, I am deeply sorry for my at times young and selfish actions. I deeply apologize for that.  To the rest of you, none a yo business. I intended to be a good girl and tried....but the best laid plans....

The woman, not the legend.

When I realized that I was actually gonna play the role of Elizabeth Taylor in a mini-series, my heart literally skipped a beat. Or two or ten or twenty!!! Sure there were artists in the hair and makeup department that could help me to transform. Combined with a great director of photography, that part did not scare me. I knew they existed and the right team would be assembled.

The real question was how to play this legend. How to hit the high and low points of her life in an 8 week shoot. Playing her 15 years old to 65. It was a daunting task but I was ready to take it on. Or so I thought. It was truly the most difficult role I have ever played in my career as an actor.

At the core of my endless research was the mantra: I want to discover and illuminate the WOMAN not the legend/icon. That was the most I could give this experience. There are so many misconceptions about people in the public eye. I have had them directed at me. And directed them about others that I look up to as well. This was not the mistake I wanted to make. I was determined.

I really hoped Elizabeth would meet and speak to me. I was told she would only do this if (a) certain things were removed from the script and (b) if she were compensated monetarily. This is what I was told anyway. We could not accommodate her wishes unfortunately. The fact that I was on my own only motivated me even more to keep the integrity of the piece in tact. Which during the process turned to be a fight at times.

The original script was quite good. By a well know writer who later took his name off because the producer kept rewriting scenes. Literally, himself. On the back of a truck with a small table and a haggard assistant at his side as he barked out orders. It was crazy and ridiculous. Thank God I had a good, strong lawyer at the time. And his work was cut out for him on this one.

The first issue to tackle before filming was the fact that Elizabeth had an ever changing accent. Sometimes it was there in full force, other times it was gone completely. It often coincided with who she was married to at the time. So how to play that without just being called inconsistent as the actor??!!!!

It was decided by my dialect coach and I that I would always have a slight but distinct accent. So we worked for weeks and she accompanied me on the set as well. Thank God. First problem solved but many more were to come fast and furious.

We started shooting very quickly it felt. I was flying by the seat of my pants. When you play someone as well know as she is, the wardrobe had to be meticulously accurate. This called for endless fittings as most of the costumes needed to be made from scratch.

The first day on the set of what would be 6 day work weeks for 8 weeks was chaotic. Keep in mind that as an actor your day does not end when the filming ends. You need to study for the next day. And in my case I need to always look at the next 3 days so I can get the words in my head and begin to memorize. And with an accent. At the time my first born was only about 1 and still nursing. It was consuming on every level.

So the very first day started out funky. They put me into a tiny, dodgy and septic smelling trailer. I was so angry. My dear makeup artist (and i do mean artist she was nominated for her work on the show) said to me she was going to teach me two very important words. "Prairie Scooner." What?? That was the name of a beautiful trailer that even had the ability to get wider if the space permitted. And that with all this intense work and time on the set and constant fittings IN my trailer and my baby coming, it was the least they could do.

I promptly called my managers,agent and lawyer and when I arrived the next day on the set there she was. Beautiful, big and gleaming. Also wide as all hell and not smelly. Now THIS is what Elizabeth deserved! Remember, I had a young child at this time who spent a lot of time on the set with me. Still nursing as he was and the love of my life. With a brutal schedule this would be the case and he and I deserved to be taken care of appropriately.

The schedule was always hectic. Many scenes per day. Wardrobe fittings between scenes. I was dropping weight like crazy. Not because I wanted to. Because it was exhausting and I was being pulled in many directions constantly. Not to mention a series of "husbands" coming on and off the set wanting to rehearse, give me their notes, or in the case of the actor playing Richard Burton just drink alcohol 24/7. Method acting? Or just an excuse to be loaded all the time, don't know, don't care.

I love the Katherine Hepburn quote: Acting makes a woman more of a woman and a man more of a woman. Sad but true.

The character of Elizabeth as a woman was like my own mother in many ways minus a successful career. Many husbands, lots of glamour and makeup, certain addictions and a lot of men and children left as causalities of a narcissistic lifestyle. This proved to put a stress on my psyche unlike any other I had ever experienced before or since on a set. It took therapy later to realize what was actually going on.

I have never before or since shut down a set. On this show it happened two times that I can remember. The body and the mind do not remember really painful things. That you will learn if you have had a baby or someone close to you does. Without drugs. It is interesting how it works. Or a severe car accident, you just kind of black out. So I don't remember it all really specifi
cally but what I do, I will share here and now.

The personal notes of my heart and soul the work was hitting combined with the intense schedule and the fierce commitment to myself to do this woman and her life justice even though she did not want me to make this movie almost put me over the edge. No, it did put me over the edge but I bounced back.

About halfway through the filming was when it got really bad. I remember thinking I am only halfway through her life...how will I finish this thing. I was about 100 lbs and looked so worn out. My philosophy teacher got mad at me and said: Its not like you are playing Joan of Arc. She was a proper broad who spoke like a sailor and could drink most men under the table. Stop killing yourself for this role. But I did not listen. To me her humanity made her a saint.

In my research I stumbled upon a piece of candid footage that was for me a photograph into the woman. It became the touchstone of who she was and was seared into my memory. She was boarding her and Richards yacht, the Kalizma. Named after a few letters of each of their children's names. And with shaky, hand held footage I saw the woman I was seeking to play and understand. A photographer accidentally called Richard "Mr. Taylor". Bad move.

Her head whipped around and with a snarl on her lips all of her seeming refinement had vanished. She sought the offense with fire in her eyes and venomously asked: What did you say. He stumbled and spattered his apologies. Her reply to his I'm sorry was simply but powerfully: You better be.

There she was peeking out from all the Hollywood bullshit glamour. A tigress for the one she loved. She'd have taken him out. It was palpable her energy. Her passion. I loved her in that moment more than any other. There was the real Elizabeth. Only ever to be seen on film in my opinion in "Who's afraid of Virginia Wolfe." That is her. To me anyway.

You must keep in mind that she was of the age of Hollywood packaging their stars. That meant to great lengths they would go to control the image. Dressing them and in most cases controlling almost every aspect of their lives. I often feel that is why as she got older her clothes got more character and kind of odd. Because she would no longer be "styled" by someone. Left to her own devices there were some interesting fashion statements. But I loved them because it is in some of those clothes you get to see the real Elizabeth. The one packaged by God, if you will, not the studio.

So I remember I got sick with a cold/flu thing going around and could barely get out of bed. I did so and was barely functioning on the set. My manager was new in my life so I called the one person I have counted on my entire life to help me. My oldest big brother Leo. He promptly came to the set, took one look at me and basically told the producer that he was taking me home. NOW. That a doctor would meet us at my house. He wrapped me up, put me in his car and away we went. My hero....

The doctor demanded that I take the next few days off. Since I was in 95 0/0 of the scenes production had to shut down as well based on locations and other points. I remember being in bed, wondering how I would ever get through the second half of this filming.

My immune system already having been compromised the next time this happened was even stranger. I was doing a scene with the actor playing Eddie Fisher and breaking up with him. I was all dressed up in a canary yellow dress, make up perfect, hair an updo dream. But as I tried again and again to do my close up I was told I was looking into the lens instead of at the actor. During most close ups, the actor off camera is put as close to lens as possible so the feeling are deeply conveyed and that much more potent.

I fought and told them they were ridiculous, that I was NOT doing that. I was a professional and I knew not to look into the lens. We all began arguing and fighting and I felt that I was losing my mind. Again my brother came to the rescue never having seen his little sister in such a state. He removed me from the set again as the producer protested asking if we couldn't just finish this scene. Leo would have hurt him if he was not such an old man.

Once home my doctor made another house call and declared that I had "stress fatigue syndrome." What?? He shared that this is something that soldiers at war get. Their brain shuts down and their body just keeps going but rather inefficiently. WOW. It oddly rang true. Although it seemed odd to compare making a movie to war. Yet it had been a war of sorts. And emotions are fragile when pushed too much, hence nervous breakdowns. So production shut down for the second time.

Later in a therapy session the truth of what was happening the latter time had been made clear. This man, this actor, reminded me of my second father. Someone I had loved deeply and who my mother had left for another man, hurting him deeply. A part of me hated her for that. In some weird abstract way I could not do it to him. I could not look in his eyes and do what she had done. I had a physiological response. The wounds go deep if one has the courage to look.

There are more stories from this experience but I fear its gone on too long already. So I will close with a verifying moment for me. I used to see this old, well known dermatologist. I was at his office after the show had aired getting a treatment. As I waited the door opened and an attractive older woman peeked her head in. She said she was a friend of Elizabeth's. That although she had never contacted me, she was pleased with the end result. What more could I ask for.....

Here we "grow" again.

There seems to me to be such a huge chasm between positive and negative right now. Its like I am on a bizarre and surreal roller coaster ride. On one hand- I am encounter great beauty and piercing light, so deep that it hurts. On the other, a rage and darkness so potent I want to run and hide....but I will not.

I know that both of these exist within me and in all of us really. I can deal with my own most of the time but others psychic attacks are more challenging for me. I can be moved by the love I experience but shaken to the core by the rage coming at me from the outside.

Why do I seem to get more affected by the later? Why can't I just not take it personally and move on, being soothed by all that is good in my life. It by far outweighs the bad. Is it that I have more darkness and rage in me than I care to acknowledge? Or that it keeps all the false beliefs I have about myself firmly in place so I never move forward into real joy in my life?

Am I the only one who experiences this dilemma? Of course not, although my ego would say otherwise I know it is just another lie it tells me to stay in the drivers seat as I try to continually try to pull it out while going 110 on the freeway of this crazy life we are all dealing with right now. That is a run on sentence but oh well.....

There was a series of events back to back in the past 2 weeks that blew my mind. They were not random or coincidence as some would try to dismiss them. They were deeply and intrinsically connected in ways that are for the most part not in my conscious sight. They created or more accurately illuminated another tangled web in my psyche. Uhhhh, more work to do. Hence the title of this blog, here we grow again.

It started with my man lying to me [again] about watching porno. Something I find disgusting and degrading to women. Not to mention the fact that I believe it lets horrible energy into ones being. Making love is the most one can give another physically and spiritually to another. To me it is scared. This world has turned that to into a "profit" while securing the patriarch, yet again.

So yes he lied to me, face to face, eye to eye, and it hurt. I understand that he has had very little examples of experience of truth in his life, even as a child. But I have been truthful with him in all ways and he knows lies are something I find almost impossible to tolerate. And did so anyway.

In all fairness, its important to share that I do not have the healthiest relationship with sex either. I grew up with little to no room to discover me that way because of the suffocating nature of my mothers relationship to it. I explored it in some of my films in an effort to understand and accept it more not because I was so comfortable with my body, or a sex kitten or whatever other bizarre labels people put on me as a result.

So he lied and my trust in our relationship was compromised. Along with igniting some of my intense issues around it.

A few days later I had a meeting for possibly being packaged in a pilot for a funny tv show with someone who I had worked with before who shall remain nameless. This man is someone that was in big trouble when we worked together. Having problems with serious drugs and in a strange, sick relationship. But a part of me fell in love with him.

I have a big mouth ,as you know and I cared for him enough to say somethings to him while we worked together. To my pleasant surprise he is now sober for over a year and did not hate me for the things I said. So we with the would be producer met for a lunchish thing to reconnect.

There is a storm around him still. I was so happy to see him yet all my desires to try to save him kicked in again. As if I could..... I honestly know that we have known each other in another life. There was immense energy between us from the first time we met. He is attractive , has a good heart, is sexy and trouble.

When we worked together I remember I kept telling myself not to be stupid. And had to consciously not hang out with him. It was difficult but I knew it would end ugly. Watching his life descend into mayhem the past few I was thankful I had listened to my instincts.

But now here he was in front of me again. Almost the same temptation. Don't get me wrong, I have not and never will cheat on my man. If it does not work out with us, I will leave with my integrity firmly intact. Soap operas in my life hold no glamour for me anymore. I simply feel that it is essential for me to illuminate my truth and my struggles, for me. And maybe some of you will relate.

Sitting next to him, everything came rushing back. That combined with the knowledge that he was just as confused as before. That his sobriety has not yet given him a sort of emotional sobriety. I loved him, hated him and was scared of him all at once. But love as always prevailed....

So I had some wine to try to get through it. These "spirits" only seem to make things worse is what I keep coming to these days. He buffered what I said to him over and over. Joking how I had gotten in his face all those years ago, telling stories of my first love Johnny and his Hilter wife and remembering playing super heroes with my first son Myles, that Myles to this day has never forgotten.

You see he is like this. Completely unforgettable. But he in his heart does not know or believe this to be true. After being 30 minutes late, he jumped up 10 minutes into our conversation and said he needed to buy cigarettes. When he came back he brought two pairs of sunglasses he had just purchased. One for his asst who was there with us and another for himself, that he promptly put on.

They were mirrored and I said I am so not gonna sit here looking at myself in your glasses. Please note he did not have them on OUTSIDE but put them on once he sat down with us. I want to see your eyes. He got a little irritated with me as people do because I want to "see" them and be "seen" by them. I want to connect in a real way. Nobody did in my life as a child and I had no control over that. But as an adult I do have more control over that and do my best to keep it real.

He then said sheepishly the most honest thing he said through our time together:

"I want to wear them so you don't see a sadness in my eyes." Sweet man, I did not have the heart to share that I had already seen it. From the moment I met him all those years ago, to seeing him walk into the restaurant late, to the moment we said goodbye and he looked over his shoulder saying I'll call you tonight. You better answer. He never called and I knew he wouldn't. Its ok though..... I still love his heart even if he does not.

The next day I began to get very aggressive comments on this blog....again. And some of my dear friends came to defense. It got worse and worse. It became sexual, racist and violent by the time I got my man to block and report this person. But not before as I showed him the person's name, his page came up with a picture of his private parts exposed. Amazing. This I did not want or need to see.

As if the words were not ugly enough.... that added insult to injury. Especially given the situation with my man. And the confused nature of my friend. The light dancing with the dark. It just all came together into this ugly distorted ball of.....well, I don't know what. I am still digesting it. The god's have a sense of humor but do I??!!!

So yes, I am growing and walking towards light as I asked my friend to do. I said to him didn't you go dark enough???? But with all of this maybe it is ME I was really asking that question of.

Everything is always a mirror of ones own stuff, I believe. This is both comforting and frightening. I wish I knew how to sum all of this up but I do not.

I then went to the Twin Peaks festival in Snoqualmie Washington and was met with such kindness and love. Good people with good energy. In one of the most magical places on the earth. I had a gorgeous waterfall outside my window and it was my baby's 3rd birthday that our little family celebrated. Amazing beauty.

But received ugly posts on my facebook from a different person for not sending him an autographed pic. There are so many examples of these extreme dualities in the past month for me even beyond what I have written about. I wish I could untangle this knot and have more clarity and peace with it.

Maybe it is just a constant reminder that all exists on this planet. That I cannot hide from it. As sometimes I would like to in a bubble. I think of an amazing piece of the Bhagavad Gita: This is only the end of the it. But now that I remembered it, I have more peace.

"Even murders and rapists,

tyrants, the most cruel fanatics,

ultimately know redemption

through my love, if they surrender

to my harsh but healing graces.

Passing through excruciating

transformation, they find freedom

and their hearts find peace within them.

I am always with all beings;

I abandon no one. And

however great your inner darkness,

you are never separate from me.

Let your thoughts flow past you, calmly;

keep me near, at every moment;

trust me with your life, because I

AM you, more than you yourself are."

And so it is....