Good morning, feeling like writing a little something before I get to work. Negative voices. I’ve heard that people have them. There are lyrics about them. “Can’t get this voice out of my head.” Then, Sonya, my Russian friend who opened her arms to me “come to Mama” every time I entered my apartment in Paris. She sent me some lovely motivational messages, one of them was from Morgan Freeman. About listening to your inner voice. He relies on that little voice, makes sure it doesn’t drown in the noise. Everyone has one. It tells him stay, go, no, yes.
I thanked her.
Everybody’s got one—a voice that guides them. That’s been my exercise as of late. To clear out the noise so I can tune into that. That’s brought me to look back a bit at the path I took, who I listened to, what I wish I didn’t do, sure. But more so than that, it’s brought me to the sea opening up before me with a whole other world on the other side. I sing for fun now, warming up. I’ve been sharing a little on TikTok, also just basically trying to figure out these platforms. They are there. You know? It’s kinda basic. I don’t have a fear of being seen or sharing my story in some way that might resonate. The wise screenwriter suggested that I figure “this,” holding the phone, “out,” since it’s a tool. Perfection, I’m not sure if one gets even there without daring to do some bad work, that too. I believe I heard Benedict Cumberbatch suggest it. Dare to do something bad. I don’t feel that way, either.
I did some deep clearing of my internal house. I started writing, I reopened the past and I resolved it. That came with a bumpy ride, more so at the end, and hell, I might have even experienced a miracle. But about the end. I got this message through my website at 5 AM which kicked off the worst of it, which was random, of course, though it didn’t feel that way. And, you know, in my defense, someone did send me that message. I just happened to be amicably asking for my money back since it had been a couple of years. And then, bam, your bank will be shut down. And it was my actual bank. Call it perfect timing.
Regardless, it impacted me physically: that message.
The wise screenwriter said that “you were repressed for a long time,” it was rather simple to him. And then, he said, “you know, it reminded me very much of Carl Jung’s The Red Book.” I have to laugh. “Yes,” he said. “Did The Red Book taint the reputation of Carl Jung?” I said no, “no,” he echoed back. “It didn’t.”
I took off after that…I’ve been abroad ever since. The return, as they say, is a journey in itself. Where to go…listening to that inner voice, being patient, the sea opening before me, lulling some of these negative voices to sleep in song as I begin to hear my voice, you know. I’ve had to work through some of the “you’re awful.” It’s healing, even.
I just don’t even agree with that, since there are all kinds of singers out there.
For the first time, regardless, when I opened up my life, I suppose I dealt with “negative voices” for the first time.
In The Oldest Storyteller, I call that construct the “characters from my life” that reveal themselves once a new perspective begins to dawn in me. They defend themselves.
I didn’t realize that I had these feelings. Didn’t want them. But then, I sort of played it safe. I didn’t put myself out there, not in the way that I’m beginning to now, so I figured it had more to do with that. What came to the surface. All the same, I haven’t understood it because I am not negative, not judgmental, and in terms of what it takes to develop material, keep stretching your creative potential, I am not arrogant. I’m not afraid of trying things…
I’m your cheerleader…truly speaking.
I say that because yesterday or over the past few days, I’ve started to try plugging in videos, trying to set up my social because why not? It’s a free tool and I’m sharing my stories, I have all these videos, etc. I don’t know if I see myself as a brand, or something, with a message yet, but I’m starting to put myself out there. I got excited and wrote a couple of blog posts. I’m writing a book. I want it to go very well. The point is to share. I started singing again because I started when I was nine, and I had such confidence issues, could never do it, so I’ve been doing what makes me happy. Rediscovering.
Blossom Dearie. “If you’ve always had a dream but you’ve been afraid that it would not come true…hither to. Fall in love…” and that’s the advice of the Oldest Storyteller, also. I thought about that and it didn’t make sense for quite some time since love, even, back there in my childhood, what’s love? Looking at all this. What does love mean? So many phrases. Love means…well, love, crimes of the heart, even that Kill Bill song “I did it all for love,” meaning kill you and your girlfriend. So, love, right? That’s a chapter in itself.
The shaman said, the faith isn’t in the leap but in the fall. So, falling in love. That’s where I am at now.
I had another one of these weird dreams. Don’t know how to interpret it which has been hard at times. I was at Balthazar. Watching some movie screening night. It featured Aunt Jane. I worked there but not really. I let the bartender take that one table, one lady, BFD. I was taking nootropics, the shaman was also there…nootropics? What are those? Does that mean I look good? It’s brain food. So that’s positive. Nootropics was very clearly delivered. Okay, I thought.
Margot Robbie ended up paying off her mother’s mortgage since she used that to help her career, so I don’t mind using what I have to do that for myself. I am going to take out some money that I have. Then, in terms of options, in terms of the direction I could take, I could end up on top of the world, no? So why am I here? Is this a little fear too? I used to work at Balthazar. So?
Here’s the thing. It feels foreign as a dream so that’s why I don’t know what to do with it. Am I picking up on something? That too. Sometimes I wonder. It doesn’t “feel” like me. It’s obviously me. So if I’m interpreting something negatively, I can shape that in a positive direction. I’m watching my stories, my family—Aunt Jane is a star, it’s true, okay?—on a screen where I used to work. I’m in service in a different way. Exactly. Service is…a word that resonates with me. To a story.
I can shape that dream.
But why was I getting negative or interpreting this negatively?
I got some other imagery I didn’t appreciate. That’s what I mean. Get even more into yourself. As a voice to reframe whatever this was. Good. This is all good. So that negative voice or interpretation is dissipating. I just don’t always understand it.
It’s like the IMDB credit that randomly popped up on my page about a girl named Maria trafficking surrogate mothers…someone said these were your guides…it was positive. It was just like, um, what do I do with that? That was eery.
I had to work through some negativity. Also, I suppose maybe there were people in my life who have a vastly different perspective than I do. Okay. I want to do super well. I have no issue with that. None. So I’m trying to figure out these channels since I’m trying to reach for the right people. At least, in the beginning. It’s focused. I want to work on stuff. Me speaking in French cracks me up. I would have to work on material, just like anybody else.
So okay. I am composing something emotional, I thought. A heart journey. I lean on Barbara Harris, seriously, on that one. Christmas in Naples is a Sport, It’s about Christmas, I mean. Emotion, feeling, I think that’s what some people enjoy in a story, how it’s composed too. The whole train did in fact tune in to our language lesson. And Carmine rose, neutrally, to the occasion.
I don’t feel like I have a problem with my artistic perspective or coming forward with my stuff, crafting that focus, to make sure it’s in alignment with my heart, purpose, all that. I do care about that.
“The message,” what’s the message.
I’m working on a scene to publish on my Substack…between two people at a coffee vending machine in Paris, France. Inspired by the office weirdo I worked with, right, the one everyone told me not to talk to. She says something vulnerable and maybe breathtaking in the end. You’d never expect it.
“We live such ordinary lives but it takes us ordinary people to see what’s extraordinary in it,” something like that, a monologue about a woman who window gazes, having lost her life and is starting over, since there are no more stars in the sky…in the end, I’ll put on my Arthur Miller hat, and figure it out, but writing scenes, leaning on my education, has brought me a lot of joy, actually, to rediscover it. If it turns out that drama is a direction that feels right, that’s great.
So, I woke up with a little flair up this morning. Working through a little negativity to reframe whatever this dream is, I suppose, I could say, “hey, it’s up to you.” Seems rather positive. Seems like I might be in NY but I might disagree with a couple of fears I might have. Maybe my focus is indeed in the right place. Whatever in my life is attached to negativity…that will go.
I had another dream that showed me the map where an apartment was in NY, and I didn’t listen to that. Again, I’ve had these funny dreams. I didn’t move back to NY. So, with this, it’s like, I don’t want to call myself stupid or something and stop doing what I feel like I want to do, could do, whatever, because I fear, what—? Exactly, moving on. It feels like the opposite. I’m doing well.
Anyway, very good, all good, glad I got that out of the way so I can get to my book and keep figuring out Later. I need some money, fine, nice that I have it. I’ll be selling my book, etc. And I love it for the party, the family, the presence of tears, years, a story that’s over now.
It’s Christmas, it’s family, the Sound of Music.
So, I have these small moments that keep drifting by, away.
Maybe the singing, too, provoked this a little since I really had confidence issues. And the more I sing, the more I understand that.
That’s it, thanks for reading.
Just keep on letting those negative voice, or that one, drift on by….away….
I do not want it.