WE WILL NOT BE POSTING ANYTHING ON THIS BLOG EXCEPT POSSIBLY UPDATES UNTIL THE FIRST OF  THE YEAR.

Oh no need for alarm, wipe and dry those tears, we’re not going away, we’re going BIGGER!

I’m happy to say after all of our fan support and over 40,000 readers and over 1,000 subscribers, we will be launching a one-of -a -kind, brand spanking new…wait for it….wait for it….

 ONLINE MAGAZINE!!!

Yes, ‘LoVsnMua ‘ is being funded to become an innovative online magazine, featuring everything and anything love and culture but best of all, artist from around the world, who rattle and roll our hearts with inspiring works. We already have a growing list of first issue featured artists, known & unknown who set the bar in their field. From composers, painters, directors, singers, writers, dancers, and then some; we are a one stop shop for those who creatively inspire and for our readers who live to be inspired.

 

So, what do you think?

We couldn’t have said it better ourselves.

So please be patient, for it takes a good second or two for us to get dolled up.

Thank you to all our supporters and fans, we couldn’t have done this without you!

 Please feel free to email any questions or special request for the first issue at Lovsnmua@gmail.com.

I must say, the whole thing is just well

exciting really.

So sit tight, relax, or recline, if that’s your thing

And we’ll be right back!

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Conception

August 27, 2013

( Story: star-dust+ Egg+Sperm= the Human Experience: ENJoy)

It began as a long corridor, painted with nine moving figures, almost like, a welcoming party, only they were not bent on saying hello, rather, they were occupied, with focused intoxication in detailing my voids with purposeful movement.

As I made my way down an expanding hall, a room found me.

It was pale, still and wafer-thin with time.  Upon greeting,  painlessly and with no hesitation, it peeled back it’s skin.

Buried inside the layers of wall was half of a room. The other half, well it was only to be reached by climbing up a ladder propped against a bright light.

Whereupon I stood, my face met the celestial breath of night and the warmth of an eclipsing light.  Bewitched the darkness perambulated beneath my scintillated lids.

Galvanized, I stood feeling the inception of behemoth black while it drowned wanting lids with star dust and polished pebbles.

Fire and earth cavorted forming an allegory of love crashed into the soul of a blind guest. I had become rebellious star-dust born solely to answer to the call of my own crux.

Behold my first vision, spiraling stairs, cascading upwards into a place where mine eyes could not reach.

  Transfixed I was until directed to go forward.

As I climbed the stairs I felt myself, like a train barreling down an unknown tunnel, being thwarted past perceptibility and time.

As I reached the top I strangely felt bits of wet clay squelching between my toes.

It wasn’t until I was still, and caught and held one silent breath that I realized that in order to become whole I needed to dive in.

So I ran. With drunken madness, I traveled into the belly of a salivating creature; it eager to envelop me in its womb, and I eager to be  cloaked.

The very moment I was consumed, was the very moment I was released into the chasm of euphoric realization, and I did not hold back.

Unbeknownst to me, in that exact moment, I shared a pathway with an unknown figure, and he too had been thwarted, leaped and  consumed.

We met in rushing waters. Inseparable, from then forward, conjoined we sailed.

Within the time-span of nine heart beats we absorbed

storming clouds and riveted sunsets.

We were synergistic in our combustion; together creating a polychromatic being.

Through the bombastic force that at times shifts the earth, two beings, meshed as one, arose through a tiny fissure.

This being was miraculous, perfection unfurled. It’s first steps although slow, defied all the laws of gravity; it was pure possibility wrapped in earth.

It’s eyes, a cloudy treasure chest, binding the secrets of its soul.

And it’s armor, ingeniously infused with electric circuits, charging for movements to come.

At first breath it unfolded, followed by a revolving stretch.

This being, spun by dream weavers, had inside its belly a cup of un-spilt passion, bequeathed  by star-dust and fastened by the undivided attention of a ready soul.

Sword drawn and consciousness ready, it smiled with its face pressed against the world. And with dreams in heart and painted reality at bay, it had only one thing  in reply to the challenges it was soon to face, “En garde.”

CONCEPTION

It began as a long corridor, painted with nine moving figures, almost like, a welcoming party, only they were not bent on saying hello, rather they were occupied, with focused intoxication, in detailing my voids with purposeful movement.
As I made my way down an expanding hall, a room found me.
It was pale, still and wafer-thin with time.  Upon greeting,  painlessly and with no hesitation, it peeled back it’s skin.
And inside the walls was half of a room. The other half, well it was only to be reached by climbing up a ladder propped against a bright light.
Whereupon I stood, my face met the celestial breath of night and the warmth of an eclipsing light.  Bewitched the darkness perambulated beneath my scintillated lids.
Galvanized, I stood feeling the inception of behemoth black while it drowned wanting lids with star dust and polished pebbles.
Fire and earth cavorted forming an allegory of love crashed into the soul of a blind guest. I had become rebellious stardust born solely to answer to the call of my own crux.
Behold my first vision, spiraling stairs, cascading upwards into a place where my eyes could not reach.
Transfixed I was until directed to go forward.
As I climbed the stairs I felt myself, like a train barreling down an unknown tunnel, being thwarted past perceptibility and time.
As I reached the top I strangely felt bits of wet clay squelching between my toes.
It wasn’t until I was still, and caught and held one silent breath that I realized that in order to become whole I needed to dive in.
So I ran. With drunken madness, I traveled into the belly of a salivating creature; it eager to envelop me in its womb, and I eager to be found.
The very moment I was consumed, was the very moment I was released into the chasm of euphoric realization, and I did not hold back.
Unbeknownst to me, in that exact moment, I shared a pathway with an unknown figure, and he too had been thwarted, leaped and  consumed.
We met in rushing waters. Inseparable, from then forward, conjoined we sailed.
Within the time-span of nine heart beats we absorbed
storming clouds and riveted sunsets.
We were synergistic in our combustion; together creating a polychromatic being.
Through the bombastic force that at times shifts the earth, two beings, meshed as one, arose through a tini fissure.
This being was miraculous, perfection unfurled. It’s first steps although slow, defied all the laws of gravity; it was pure possibility wrapped in earth.
It’s eyes, a cloudy treasure chest, binding the secrets of its soul.
And it’s armor, ingeniously infused with electric circuits, charging for movements to come.
At first breath it unfolded, followed by a revolving stretch.
This being, spun by dream weavers, had inside its belly a cup of un-spilt passion, bequeathed  by star dust and fastened by the undivided attention of a ready soul.
Sword drawn and consciousness ready, it smiled with its face pressed against the world. And with dreams in heart and painted reality at bay, it had only one thing  in reply to the challenges it was soon to face, ”En garde.”

The Laughing Heart

May 12, 2013

By: Charles Bukowski

                                                  Your life is your life

                                   don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.

               be on the watch.

                                               there are ways out.

                   there is a light somewhere.

                         it may not be much light but it beats the darknes

 be on the watch.

the gods will offer you chances

   know them.

take them

you can’t beat death

but you can beat death in life, sometimes.

                      and the more often you learn to do it,

the more light there will be.

 your life is your life.

                 know it while you have it.

                             you are marvelous the gods wait to delight in you.

Drawing by Weronika Krzemieniecka | Posted by devidsketchbook.com

MUTINY, 60" x 78", oil, enamel & shellac on canvas, 2012, by Samantha Keely Smith.

detail: MUTINY, 60" x 78", oil, enamel & shellac on canvas, 2012, by Samantha Keely Smith.

detail: MUTINY, 60" x 78", oil, enamel & shellac on canvas, 2012, by Samantha Keely Smith.

The Waltz

January 23, 2013

 

By:  Magnolia

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 I am the soil        And I the tree

 Together embraced, closely.

I am the wind      And I the leaves

Together we float careless and free.

I am the heart     And I the beat

Together we move quiet and discreet.

I am the pencil      And I the paper

Together we scribble the answer.

I am the bones     And I the skin

Together we build cover, beginning to end.

I am the door      And I  the knob

Together we absorb every throb.

I am the path     And I the water

Together we travel, paving next chapters

I’m the composer   And I the composition

Together creating melodies that grow and glisten.

I am the paint          And I your canvas

Together splashed and blended into the infinite planned for us.

I am the body    And I your bends

Together till the very end.

So when your color fades

and lines surround your eyes,

My lips will seal your heart with first loves reprise.

And when you are tiered,

I will be your awake

Forever in a waltz through love and heartache.

The breath to your lips, the sound to your silence,

The view to your window and the X to your spot;

We are but four eyes and one vision,

Percolated poetry, bound for eternity.

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God you should have seen Isis, hemorrhaging with ambition while smiling in the harshest of heat.

She stood in the belly of that crowd, raised her arm in the air & matched her heart to the beat.

And suddenly every patron in the city, believers &  doubters, rose quickly to their feet.

Their fists pounding against the rhythm of  the wind; boom, boom, boom, boom!

Kinetic electricity surged from every cavity & splashed through every layer in the room.

Head high and shoulders back, she gave the deuces to anyone who didn’t think she had the knack.

Once the souls that questioned her are now asking for her signature.

Although in the dark & blind to the masses, she doubted nothing while lighting her own torches.

Bearing the brunt of naysayers & pile driving while supplying her own transfusions,

Every night she closed her eyes and challenged the dark with esoteric allusions.

She was a woman, but didn’t need to prove it.

Her ears had swallowed  broken glass and her knees felt the itch of mud and laughing grass.

And while it was in style to sport the scent of gin and sex,

She didn’t bother, she was a self-accepted reject.

All the while undeserving, with gut and grit, she pushed Sisyphus rock up and made it stick.

Her razor tongue savored the water of Tantalus and of others opinions, she could care less.

Unapologetic & foolhardy with determination, she fashions her lips with bona fied narration.

But when the crowd has dissipated she sits alone, contemplative.

And although she is silent in her tears, she paints only what she wants herself to mirror.

Saying nothing, she curls her fingers around the heart of the moon

She squeezes it in hopes of growing more immune.

A goddess, a rebel, a lady of ten thousand names, she breaths to the beat of her own drum, she is a consummate dame.

 

The Glass Slipper I

February 16, 2011

I often hear people say “life is not a fairy tale,” and it always makes me wonder what they mean exactly. I suppose they are inferring that everyday life is not all singing birds, fuzzy feelings and la di da perfect.  But then, neither are fairy tales.  Granted, characters occasionally break out into song and talk to animals, but in essence, fairy tales are just fables or tales that when paid attention to, deal with characters facing adversity, just as we do.

Since I was a kid till now, I’ve had some of the same conversations with people who have told me that I’m idealistic.   When I tell people I believe in dreams coming true and that fairy tales are not too far off from life in terms of what we should expect, they say I’m naïve and tell me that one day I’ll grow up to the harsh realities of the world. Well, I am grown up, yet I still think the same way because it is truth. Truth does not exist within the confines of time, it is constant, which allows one the choice to believe it or not.

So here’s the truth and what I believe as told through the deconstruction of a fairy tale: Cinderella.

In the final scenes of Cinderella, she ends up with her ideal guy, living in the ideal situation and place.  Basically, she gets what she believed in and hoped for.  The point of Cinderella is not to have little girls spending their time dreaming about fluffy ideas, big puffy white dresses, balls (our version of a huge party), hoping to go from having nothing to having everything or about having a marriage or a guy that comes in sweeps you off your feet and saves you.  The story is about how to preserve innocence and hope all while being in the line of palpable darkness. Cinderella was not rescued by a prince; she was her own knight in shining armor. The prince and that whole castle thing, well, that was just a manifestation of things she had already projected from the very beginning of the story. In essence, Cinderella’s happy ending was a vision, a belief saturated with imagination; it was the crux of her heart flipped inside out.

The first Cinderella story was written in China by Tuan Ch’eng-Shih and dates back from the Tang Dynasty in 860 AD. The second most recent version of this story named, ‘La Gatta Cenerentole,’ was written in 1634 by Giambattista Basil.  However, the story that made Cinderella a household name was by the French author Charles Perrault in 1697.  The most popular to follow was the 1950’s Disney Version which a majority tend to be familiar with.

For those who don’t know the story of Cinderella, here’s a quick summary.  Once upon a time, there lived a girl whose father married a widow with two daughters.  Upon her father’s untimely death, Cinderella’s step-mother, who was never quite fond of her, moves Cinderella to live in a separate part of the house and forces her to do house labor.  Throughout the story, Cinderella is faced with the cruelty of her step-mother and step-sisters and the pangs of injustice.  Yet despite the brutality of her situation and through it all, Cinderella is able to maintain her good nature and in the end, get her happy ending.

In the Disney version of this story, Cinderella wakes up singing “A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes.” If you listen to the lyrics, it is clear that from the very beginning of the film, Cinderella has a deep connection and vision of what she wants her life to be.