Is the past that haunts our dreams and memories, or are they gone, like shadows without light? We look away from the pain we caused to ourselves and others and yet continue to punish ourselves for it. As if the torture was not enough. But those little darlings remain the same. Tiny darlings we call our own with a sudden sense of pride. And are we worthy of the love we once called our own. Those little stings that never go away. Out of the darkness, into the light without thought or reason. We are healed by that ever lasting pain.
And now we follow the dream that never was. But not to fret, it is in the forefront of our emotional core, of who we are. And that sorrow defines us as much as the joy and exhilaration of falling in love.
So they walk hand in hand, as lovers do. For each would perish without the other.
Tears of joy trickle down your face just like those when your heart is broken and the road seems to have end.
to be continued...

Sound Off Hollywood…. returns

"It is not a comeback, it is a return!" Norma Desmond, Sunset Boulevard.

Years ago, when rock still reigned, was a little 'zine aptly named Sound Off Hollywood. It was the brainchild of myself and one of the most beautiful, dearest and precious person I have ever known. We covered the local music scene on Sunset Blvd. It was fun, inventive and a little dangerous. Its purpose was based on passion, the love for music. Of course, a lot of that passion was fueled by draft beers and what ever drink was offered. But that was part of the fun, the mystique and times.
Yes, it was popular. Although, prints were somewhat limited, I can boast that copies reached the east coast, Europe and even Russia.
Alas, all good things do come to an end.
Or rather, a sabbatical.
Years can seem to run away from you. Time is both a notorious lover and a cruel master. What was so immediate and utterly brilliant became but a memory. Then distant. Then nostalgic.
But the beauty was still there. Like Pompey, buried for centuries, then discovered in all its regal, spectacular and immaculate beauty.
Awakened from a new perspective, with the pain and sorrows of yesterdays's regret and broken promises. Anew, it wakes to a bold and focused design.
Now, the focus is not of music. It is a voice of the creative arts, whether they may be.
So true it is that distance makes the heart grow fond. That that glorious part of me has been missing from this writer's life for far too long.
And this voice has grown bolder, stronger, more assertive. I had to go underground for some time. To reflect. Even Napoleon's army regrouped when necessary.
It was also a chance for redemption.
Mine.
That said, I shall give these pages more words and images. Just like before. Blessed is technology that makes this so much easier, so more accessible.
Rise from the ashes Sound Off Hollywood. Reborn like a Phoenix.
Only this ain't Harry Potter. This is rock & roll.
As always…