“Let the line of thought dip deep into the stream…”

“All these infinitely obscure lives remain to be recorded, I said… and went on in thought through the streets of London feeling in imagination the pressure of dumbness, the accumulation of unrecorded life, whether from the women at the street corners with their arms akimbo… or from the violet-sellers and the match-sellers and the old crones stationed under doorways… Above all, you must illumine your own soul with its profundities and its shallows, and its vanities and its generosities, and say what your beauty means to you or your plainness, and what is your relation to the ever-changing and turning world.”(Virginia Woolf, “A Room of One’s Own.”)

I wonder what Virginia Woolf – who is one of my favorite writers – would think of blogs today. I believe that she would be very excited about the availability of this form of expression for women writers everywhere. She had the belief that women needed five hundred pounds a year (in 1929) and a room of one’s own in order to have the freedom to pick up our pens and write.

I am lucky, finally, to have the ability to write full-time. I realize that I am in a wonderful position and am thankful, although it did not come easily. I feel, also, that having two blogs have given me a platform on which I can express myself. Blogs create a constant exercise in writing and thinking and putting your thoughts together. It is so important to write (if you are a writer) or to take photographs (if you are a photographer.) Whatever your dream, your focus, your end all be all, it is important to have the time to devote to it. Too many people do not have the time or money to concentrate on their dream.

Last month I wrote about my love of writing on the silky pages of a good journal. I even took a photograph of some of my lovely bound books. My two blogs – “A Bohemian Girl” and “The Weight of It” – both serve a purpose. One is a scattering of thoughts (which I hope are not ignorant ramblings) and the other one is a chronicle of something that is very important to me.

To Woolf, it didn’t matter if we were poets, fiction writers, or travel writers. She supported the woman’s desire to be a writer. It didn’t matter to her what sort of book you wrote. She even wrote, “Therefore I would ask you to write all kinds of books, hesitating at no subject however trivial or however vast. By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess yourselves of money enough to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of the world, to dream over books and loiter at street corners and let the line of thought dip deep into the stream.”(Virginia Woolf’s “A Room of One’s Own”.)

“Let the line of thought dip deep into the stream…” What a fantastic line. What an inspiring thought. I want to inspire, because I want to be inspired in return. I want to be inspired by what happens in another person's presence. By the simplicity of a situation. By a perfect moment. Moments that could have happened yesterday or twenty years ago, but will remain forever fresh in your mind.

I want to record these moments. Things like a conversation between strangers. The colors of Malaysia when it rains. A bird flying through an old barn's rafters that has rays of light slicing through the air that are filled with dust. Sleeping on the top bunk as you take the night train to Saint Petersburg. Sitting on a Vermont mountain side amongst scultpures and tall grass as you take in all the nature around you. The Charles Bridge in Prague at midnight as the rain comes down softly while you walk past police officers and a couple in love with the castle on your right in the distance. Or an attractive man getting up to give you his seat. I could go on forever....

But inspiration should come naturally. There should be no pressure or design. It's in the person's make-up. In their own personal design. In their interest in the World around them. And because of this, they make you want to be the best person you can possibly be. Isnt it wonderful when you turn around and are surprised by inspiration? By a spark? By life? By something you have done! Or seen. Been lucky to have witnessed. Isn't it lovely when you don't have to say a word and the energy flows through you simply because you are sitting beside this person? And they can be a friend, a relative, a lover... Ah, inspiration is addictive... I love to be fueled, inspired, supported by my friends. By my loved ones. By my family. We should charge those around us. Inspire each other to do our best work and be the best people we can be.

Blogs are a form of expression. We are given anonymous free range to express to others who we are, what our thoughts on matters are, what our experiences have been like, what our memories are filled with. It’s a way of connecting to readers, friends, loved ones, strangers… I write in order to inspire. I write in order to keep my mind working. To keep it oiled, if you will. I write, because I have to and there is nothing else I could do. Or, rather, be happy doing.

The Hollywood Forever Cemetery

These photographs were taken last summer at a Hollywood Forever Cemetery for a screening of Woody Allen's "Manhattan." Every Saturday night, during the summer, a movie is projected upon a mausoleum and hundreds of people sit in the cemetery and watch the movie while they dine on wine, beer and food.


Seven us went that night, including my friend, Mike, who is an amazing musician and composer. He is the base player/producer of Cowboy Robot. He also has his own solo project, Yakuza Zoo.

I usually don't like having my photograph taken, but Tara seems to have snapped some good ones of me, if I say so myself...

Phoenix From The Flame

I have the desire to make sure my life is secure. That I’m doing things right. That I’m living my life the way I should. I love that feeling of security. Centeredness. Assurance. The knowledge that the path you chose in life is the right one.

Sometimes you get sidetracked and go off on tangents, but how wonderful it is to get back on track. Sometimes you need the time spent smelling the roses on the side of the path. Sometimes you need to slow down your pace or just stop walking/running/sprinting all together. Sometimes you need a distraction.

Lately I’ve been balancing work, my health and my social life pretty well. I don’t feel off track, although I do realize that I am burning the candle at both ends. And I have the burns to prove it. Sometimes you have to burn your candle at both ends. You burn brighter. You burn brightly. And sometimes it is necessary to live this way. It’s like the phoenix rising from the ash. It has to combust in order to move forward.

Inspired By Photographs

So, I was driving down Melrose Boulevard today on my way home after doing my tenth Pilates session (cause for celebration!) and I looked to my left and saw a sign with a photograph of a woman's legs on it and the words “WESTON at the Getty” beside it. I almost forgot to focus on the road. Edward Weston’s photography is at the Getty!

In 2004, I had a similar reaction driving west down Wilshire Boulevard when passing LACMA. I saw a sign for Diane Arbus’ photography. Again, I almost forgot to focus on the road as I looked up at the photograph and the words "DIANE ARBUS." I think it was a few days later when my friend Leigh called me up and asked if I wanted to go to the exhibit with her and her friend, Kate. I jumped at the chance and we went to LACMA where we spent three hours walking through the different rooms filled with nearly 200 of her most significant work.

I couldn’t believe that I was seeing her work in person. Up close and personal. Not only were there rooms of her photographs, but there was a room (or two) that displayed some of her belongings, like contact sheets, cameras, letters, notebooks, and other writings. I’ve always found artist’s personal objects to be fascinating. A window into their world. A momentary glimpse at their tools, which might tell you a secret if you stand there long enough. Why did she photograph the people she did? Why did she write these words? Why, oh why, did she kill herself in 1971?

For the past six years, I have been working on a story (off and on) about a woman who is a photojournalist and so I started getting very interested in photographers and their lives. I stumbled on a couple very interesting things when I was researching my story.

First off, there is a fantastic War photographer named Lee Miller, who was the assistant and lover of Man Ray. She is one of those fierce women that makes you wonder if you could ever be truly that brave with your own life. There are so many things that I want to do with my life and I think I’m a pretty brave person, but people like Lee Miller make me feel like I am playing it safe… which in many ways I am and in many ways I’m not.

Another photographer and woman that I admire is Deborah Copaken Kogan. She wrote a book called Shutterbabe, which I was absolutely sucked into. I've read her book numerous times and am constantly amazed by the life this woman led. It was poetic, cinematic, raw and filled with color and life and sex and danger.

Reading about these women makes me want to pick up a camera and travel halfway across the World. Reading about these women inspires me to make sure I experience life to the fullest. And maybe I write in order to live out the types of lives these women actually had. Lives that they woke up every day to. Experiences they felt intensely.

But writing allows me to experience many lives, not just one. Writing allows me to be anyone I want to be - woman, man, child - and I don't think I remain at my computer because I'm afraid of what could happen. I think it's more about what I found myself in love with… and what found me… which happens to be a rather safer way to live your life...

Or is it?

New Macbook Photobooth Fun