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| (We made it into the January addition of a National Magazine!!) |
You can't handle the truth.
I can't handle the truth.
What exactly is the truth?
Truly, who really gives a shit about the truth?
Various titles.
Different days,
Chapters,
Feelings,
Real.
Greatest part about writing?
You get to say,
To be,
To act,
Any way you feel like it.
I sit here on this stunningly beautiful crisp April day with the gleam of happiness in my eyes, the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in my background, my hair is coiffed in complete perfection.
My nails are perfectly painted in vixen red.
My abs are sitting as straight and defined as the washboard of yesterday.
I am glamorous,
Witty,
Strong,
Knowing and brilliant.
Bullshit.
Southern style tell it like it is pure bull crap.
I sit here with the same headache that has lingered between my bloodshot stingily beautiful green eyes.
Sweat pants,
Hands swollen from hairdressers arthritic pain,
Do you want to read about the tears?
The crawling on the sharp glass edges as you trudge through another day?
The yearn..
Do you want to read about the triumph?
The colors of neon or the colors of despair?
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| (I just wanna dance, and sing, dont care if I am off key....) |
What does being alive mean to you?
Does it mean Groundhogs day?
Another load of laundry?
Crock pot meals and reruns of Modern Family?
I suppose some of which bring a sense of happiness.
But I want MORE.
I need more,
I yearn for more.Is it wrong?
So many peeps accept mediocrity.
They are content and satisfied with bland.
What if they were gifted a night with Anthony Bourdain to travel the globe right in their very own kitchen?
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| (Do you all notice how everything always goes back to Bourdain??) |
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| (My Chicago Fire debut!) |
Could you?
Would you let him in?
Why do we accept middle of the road?
A ho-hum day as apposed to an off the charts fire works exploding sun in your eyes, blinding your corneas with new brightly neon colors abound?
Why sit at home and wait for it?
Why?
What are you waiting for?
Your door to fly open with the the greatness handed to you?
Hah on a silver platter.
So funny.
Only if.
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| (My story....) |
Certain styles.
A look that was born...
Why not be your very own icon?
Idolize YOURSELF.
How about that.
Your own celebrity.
Molded from the smell of freshly opened play doh, sculpted by your very own digits...
Step out of your bed with your Academy Award style, saunter as you grace the kitchen hitting the buttons on your coffee maker with a swirl and some attitude.
Use today as the first dress rehearsal to opening night.
Wow- think about the possibilities.
Did I always carry this itch or was I reborn?When the lightning struck was I hit?
Did it radiate my being and awaken what I believe is in every one of us?
When did the Ah-ha moment begin?
Did Oprah remind me?
Awaken my soul?
Or was it always there?
Hidden behind pre conceived ideas of what MY life was supposed to look like?
When did I decide to stop on the side of the road to take a picture of a gigantic firefly.
Hollys World.
I have at times shut myself off to certain possibilities.
So I did it...
I took my first real bite.
And although maybe not by adult standards a big deal.
It was to me.
I ate it, and strangely for the very first time I enjoyed it.
Holly grew up.
40's ain't so bad.
I ate half the plate of that Sushi (Ok roll) and smiled as this stubborn Chicago, tough talking, smart assed, take no prisoners girl jumped off the side of the cliff.
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| (yep that really was me jumping into the lake with Jimmy Fallon!) |
A lot.
It wasn't just the sushi.
It was the room, the magnificent architecture of the window pane in this building where I had never been before. It was the way I left my mind open, with my eyes as large as saucers drinking up the newness of the moment that was fleeting by so fast my head began to spin.
Is that what I shall write about?
Living in the MOMENT.
No regrets.
Taking leaps then baby steps.
Do I write about truth or fiction?
Am I dressed in Gucci with my wrinkles filled in with an occasional botox?
Or do I give it raw? (sounds naughty)
The day to day, feet hit the floor, worried about your children?
Afraid of tomorrow?
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| ("Sally"from Mad Men!) |
I think I should write the complete version of LIFE.
The A-Z paper back.
One that includes,
Sex,
Drugs and Rock and Roll.
May I be so humble as to throw in a little Down Syndrome too?
Just truths.
The truth that we really have no fricken idea what we are doing?
That even though we all get new chances filled with new beginnings sometimes we choose to just sit and let the minutes, hours, days, weeks, months pass by like the click of the grade schooled classroom slide projector?
The truth that life takes GUTS.
If your not ready to play then please step aside.
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| Add caption |
Please do not block my door way.
Do not block any ones door way especially your own.
My door is statuesque, mahogany, adorned with cut out Chinese dragons. There is a window so clear that everyone can see straight inside and out.
My door has a handle so strong, silver embellished with diamonds, it can be pulled in many directions but the pull is a gentle one.
Do not block my path for it is mine to take and only mine to enjoy.
Coolest most amazing part about this book that I have yet to write?Every word, every page, every sentence will be mine.
Real,
Raw,
Refreshing and maybe a tad rated R.
My choice is to write it,
Yours will be to read it.
Lessons learned?
I only have one voice.
One time
One key at at time to type.
One life to live.
One journey to make.
One legacy to leave,
And ONE tour to star in.
I am who I am chapter 1.
I am Holly.
Afraid yet brave, happy yet melancholy.
I am a tall, wondrous green eyed flirt.
Mom to many and glittery from the outside in.
I am a giver not a taker. I am honest and bold and fierce.
I am hard working and trusting and witty and raw.
I am long legged and confident, I am tough yet gentle.
I am a listener and a talker and I am a mad baker of sorts.
I am a shopper and a shoe addict.
I am tired and curious. I am wild yet meek. I am humble and proud. I am strong yet silent.
I am as vibrant as a new box of crayons. I get the job done, and I will never hurt you.
I am in search.
I am in the process of my life.
My book.
Hundreds of blank crisp white pages.
My pages with my exclamations and my quotations.
Afraid you may not approve?
Absolutely.
Possibilities are endless.
But my rose colored glasses need to be shared, the sights the sounds the tastes and the love needs to be passed around and sampled.
Please get our of my door way,I need a good clean runway to throw my book in.
Hopefully you will catch it as it falls.
I am me.
My feet are killing me....
No exceptions.
No excuses,
Absolutely no apologies. I will hold no prisoners and I will share my smiles.
Truth.
HollysWorld.
Bam.
Chapter 2...
