serenity.simplicity.passion.beauty.life

Finding l.u.x.u.r.y in the little things (and smirking at all the r.e.s.t)

Friday, December 29, 2006

"Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: 'I'm with you, kid. Let's go.'"

Children amaze me. I know that everyone says that, and it's not really a novel idea but...maybe we should examine why that is. Why do children amaze everyone, put a sparkle into everyone's dull and tired eyes, and bring smiles to the faces of those who have long lost their own enthusiasm?

I think secretly we are all jealous of children. Jealous of their pure innocence, of their utter lack of knowledge of the way the world really works. We secretly want to go back to the time when we, ourselves, had not a care in the world. Well, not any more than whether or not the crust was cut off of our sandwiches...

I will admit to this secret sense of admiration. Children serve as a reminder that --wow--life really does move fast and furiously... it feels that only yesterday I was wearing my pink and blue snowsuit, asking mom for 50 cents to go to the corner store to buy sour patch kids that came in a little brown bag after they were counted out at 2 cents each. That poor woman who always worked the register. I look at children and see myself, missing the Ashley that I once was; the one that didn't didn't care whether her long, brown hair was combed or not, as she built bamboo forts outside and caught creyfish in the crick. "Growing up" really does take away from one's free spirit, but I suppose it also has its separate set of advantages. The important thing is to not lose that free spirit completely, because it's the only thing that's still allowing us to follow our dreams and be who we aspire to be. Innocence, almost ignorance, for the unknown world of what we dream about is what keeps us wanting it. . . longing for the excitement that not knowing can only bring us in this world.

I had the pleasure of meeting a very special young lady over the Christmas holiday, through a very special young man whom I happen to be dating. It is she who got me thinking , after demonstrating her vast vocabulary, saying things such as, "If you're available sometime, maybe we can. . ." Not bad for a six-year old. We did her makeup because she wanted to look like a teenager. Yet, most people I know are trying to do their makeup to look younger. But isn't life always so ironic that the young ones are always trying to grow up fast, act like adults and do adult things. . . while the old ones are constantly trying to maintain their youth. Is there ever a point in which you are satisfied with where you are in life, or is the grass always greener on the other side???






Friday, December 15, 2006

"Think excitement, talk excitement, act out of excitement...and you are bound to become an excited person. Life will take on a new zest, deeper interest, and greater meaning. You can think, talk, and act yourself into dullness, or into monotony, or into unhappiness. By the same process, you can build up inspiration, excitement, and surging depth of joy."




It's going to be a great day!!!! Happy Friday, everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Tuesday, December 05, 2006

















"You're alive. Do something."



I was fortunate to have been able to spend Thanksgiving back in my adopted hometown of Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica. There is nothing like salsa dancing the night away--it has a special ability to really bring out a person's spirit, and is insurmountable to trump on the fun-scale.

It is more than just a dance; it is moving art, impossible to preserve in a museum or keep behind glass. It is two people's souls, emerging and marrying by forming their own unique rhythm. It is an intimate form of non-verbal communication, which manages to practically scream to those watching, "Passion!" "Intensity!" "Sex appeal!" "Desire!" "Enticement!" "Seduction!"

For me, it is my inhibitions let loose. My fear of those who are watching left behind. It is my sexual being wanting to express itself after the alcohol I consumed, which is expressing itself as I boldly march onto the dance floor, Latin in hand. The steps just flow, and my waist follows, shifting fearlessly from side to side, following the lead of my suitor. At this point, it does not matter the suitor; I am instantly attracted to him through his ability to make a woman feel like a real woman.

In salsa dancing, the roles are clearly defined. The dance is the definition of male dominance--he is the one to lead, and she to follow. He is the agressor, and she the passivist. And I love it. It is outdated, against all modern notion of equality...and I love it even more.

It is romance put to motion. It is passion come alive. It is sex in its most innocent form. And it is the love of all these things combined that propels my untrained American feet onto the floor, over and over again.

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