“Heartstrings” A Woman’s Workshop

To write from a safe place, to nurture and to listen are the greatest lessons I can share. Storytelling starts with an idea, a perspective, a memory, an observation, an opinion and a healthy dose of imagination. Writing, good writing begins with the most honest, painful, sincere, sensual, scary and absurd memories. Stellar writing must start from a sacred place of truth, examining both the dark and the light. Women today

Highfalutin Sequins & Glitter

I must get moving I suppose haunted by a past and future, overly cautious and wickedly sentimental. I must walk in the present decked out in sequins and glitter in honor of the brazen one. There is magic brewing in these parts and honest living in the routine. Small town life is fine, filtering the air with H2O, and hyperbaric clean, 100% pure, brain oxygen. Just when I think I

Off The Cuff

Off The Cuff – Jacqueline Cioffa That’s pain. That’s JOY. That’s courage, baby That’s the high cost and the low maintenance And this is my honest-to-God get out of my face, in your face, brace yourself best shot Potluck Be brave, be bold, be loud Make some quiet noise Maybe tomorrow I’ll post some cheery, colorful, feel good quote Perhaps, maybe not One never knows how hot she blows How

In Fucshia

“They don’t want you to think for yourself, they keep you preoccupied with electronics. They’re excited by the control concept, creating a nation of drones. Soon enough we’ll all be wearing uniforms in stiff purple. Don’t do it. Walk, against the grain. In Fuchsia.” – Jacqueline Cioffa

Fashion is Fickle

  FASHION IS FICKLE When did we become a society of images scrolling past on someone’s smartphone? It’s nonsensical, comical and yet. Modeling was my life for two decades. I never felt entitled, prettier, skinnier or better than the next girl. In fact, I always felt a little less than. Maybe if I was thinner, smarter, or a skilled marketer I’d be a smarter brand, book better caliber jobs even though

Waiting on Oprah: Never Quit Your Dreams

Waiting on Oprah I close my eyes and can almost see the perfect fairytale life I envisioned in my wildest dreams. Dear Fantasy (Oprah), “I feel that I am a very fortunate person …” I was fifteen. Fifteen, gawky, wickedly uncomfortable in my so called ‘model frame.’ Somehow fifteen was the perfect age to concoct wild fantasy adventures and the fastest way out of a stifled, small town. There was

Don’t quit five minutes before the miracle.

I’m tired. Wiped, discouraged, caput, worn down, exhausted. I am not winning this mammoth battle with the mind. I can no longer distinguish between mania and anxiety, thoughts race ahead anyway without definition. Oxygen depleted and unrelenting physical pain does not let up. No, no, no, no way. There’s no way I can keep up with this living thing. I am not strong enough. Am I? Just when I think I have used and abused