Surrounded by water. Immersed, submerged, floating parallel in the mind. On this day, I am a mere spectator. Feet planted defiantly on the autumn ground.
Welcome to my Writer’s page. Author sounds a bit pretentious. Many of you have supported, commented and visited my beauty blog over the years, Makeup To Model CitiZen. Beauty is fun and frivolous, I could never completely give it up. The world of Beauty and Fashion gave me wings. To travel the globe, be the observer, the chameleon and most importantly, to grow. Growth means moving through the fear onto
Let’s face it; there’s no fooling. The sagging skin, the wrinkled face, the ridiculous forty something woman in short skirts and bottled-up Botox. The gravitational pull and the eventual flight back home were booked in advance. You already hold the winning ticket. I recognize the faces in the street, the fear, the familiar grimace and disgust at the sideways glance in the shop’s windowpane. I see the doubt, the two-second
I wrote EMBERS AND ASH some years ago, or so. I don’t remember the precise day, I remember the unhappy circumstance. I needed to come home. I was unwell. Truth, I was out of my fucking mind and the only person I wanted, needed and trusted was the one who birthed me. Her ferocious, constant, capable mother-love was the only thing that was not spinning out of control. The one I
THE RED BENCH -Excerpt Washboard Abs I want to dance alone in the dark. I want to hear the underlying music through the deafening mundane silence that is everyday life. I want to make snow angels in a Speedo. I want to smile again without feeling forced. I am going to free myself from the limitations wrapped tightly around my neck. I’m going to discard the heavy and not
My love of prose runs deep, and flows freely. I never try to push or guide her, I simply wait. She comes to me in thought, letting words steer the course. 100,000 keystrokes, always grateful for the ride. Slippery, sliced, bruised and banged up, the rocks show me the how. Pointing towards the unsettling, eery calm waters, and guaranteed ease of crystal blue, crisp, sun storm light beautiful. A new day. Possibility runs
Brainstorms The Anthology ‘BRAINSTORMS’~ AN EXPRESSION OF DEPRESSION VOLUME 2 The ‘Expression of Depression’ anthologies arose from a journal and pad of art therapy drawings recorded during a stint in rehab. The idea was to collate similar pieces from as many writers as possible; the desire was to provide empathy and inspiration to anyone going through a similar experience of isolation and mental struggle. Brainstorms is the 2nd volume
Author Page http://redroom.com/member/jacqueline-cioffa Red Room, where the writers are. And the cool cats, like moi
“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that – I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much – so very much to learn.” – Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath
Start with a simple truth. The most basic. The brain dictates pen and pad. The writing spills effortlessly onto the page. A freedom feeling I have not known elsewhere. I write not to be rich, not to be famous, but because I can. I must. The breath and body cannot tell a lie.