My burn bio

Well hello there.

I'm R------ (for pen name purposes, Audrey).
First burn.
First Kostume Kult camping.

So. Flipping. Excited.

A little something something about me:

I'm a Gemini, with an outward pretty, pressed, and perfectionic demeanor.
She doesn't sleep in tents and always keeps it perfectly placed. So perfect. So so perfect.

And then there's the other.
The wild child*, The Mad Max.
Let the wild rumpus start.
* She's getting a super amount of attention these days.
Totally psyched to let her run wild in the desert.

Dirty. Sweaty. Open. Free. And fully self-expressed.

Requesting an appropriate playa name that reflects that.

I'm loud and quiet.
I'm cool and hot.
I'm super normal and totally weird.
I'm an anxious fool and a cool, calm, and collected little lady.
I'm a gamine ange nu and a bit of a deviant.
I'm a hopeless romantic and a she-ra man hater.

I. Am. A. Fairy.

I'm not French.
I might as well be.

I say what I think.
What I say is.
My world is in the stars and on earth and in me and in you and outside of us and around us and everywhere and everything.

I have a wild temper.

I love food.

I am afraid of fire.
I love to watch things burn.

I'm all about now. And now. And now. And pay as little attention to then. And then. And then as possible.

I'm an artist AND a scientist.
I can be smart as f*{k and gullible as ever.
I can be in the clouds and obsessively calculated.

I pretty much looooooove costuming.
I'm thinking lots of devil/angel/fairy/evil sprite stuff for the burn.
Glitter and wings. Pointy ears.
Red lipstick and false paper eyelashes.
Mud and dirt and an oily glow.

I used to be a pro ballet dancer.
i think it was for the Tutus and drag queen makeup.
i pretend it was for the classy art.

Nothing too fancy.

I am ready to let it out and let it all go and take it all on.

Out to find and to love the grey area.

I want to be scared out of my mind, jump, and land on my feet.
Because I do.
And I'm ready to challenge how far I can take that.

Oh, and I don't know how to swim.

PS I'm writing this in my medical office, wearing a JCrew sundress, a cashmere cardigan and penny loafers.

There is an actual penny in the front of my shoes.

Well, alright.

I'm going to Burning Man.
Challenge Accepted.

XxO
- mad max?

Hope.

Hope.
An expression of believing.
An expression of what's possible.
An expression of excitement.
A need.

We hope.  Some of us, myself included, more so than others.

I'm sitting at my laptop on a gorgeous sunny May Day, dedicated to mothers and my phone rings. 
One of my oldest friends, calling to see how I'm doing.  How I'm holding up.  How I'm dealing.  
      Mixed with telling me how she's doing.   how she's holding up.  how she's dealing. 

It's interesting how celebrations can create responses directly opposed to what they're meant to create.  

Today we celebrate motherhood.  
We thank our mothers, our grandmother.
We smile upon our friends and family members who have taken on the astounding responsibility of being a mommy.

                       and, for some, friend and I included, we hope.

Before that call I was sitting here lamenting my mother's death.  
Wanting to pick up the phone or drive to PA and take her to lunch.  
We'd likely get sandwiches as the local diner or sit in the back yard sipping sun tea.  
She'd likely tell me about my brothers, my dad, her friend Kathy, her mom, the people she sees during the day, the way she experiences things, the way god plays a role in everything she thinks, does, and says.  
             Never a word about her, though.  Just what other people mean to her. 

That was my momma.  Selfless and perfect.  

I was sitting here thinking about the death of a new mom I know.  Someone who battled sickness through and through, until her body failed her...leaving behind a 6 month old son.
She, I know, would have been an incredible mother going forward, had she had the chance.

I was sitting here thinking about the myriad of times I have seen that love is possible and then found it not to be so...
               at least not then
                           ...or maybe at least not with him.  
A possibility of love that transcends pain and suffering, that creates a bond where all is open and communicated and supported and soft and adventurous and quietly powerful.  

A possibility of love that picks you up when you're down and supports you to find your own way up.

A possibility of twosome that creates and excites and works it out when it's not so great and celebrates every moment of when it is, simply wonderful.
  
A possibility of having that person who'll help me become a mother.  
              To give of myself to create a human being that will grow and become everything his or her  
              little heart desires
                    who will learn to walk and run and GO...
                    and fall down, and sit still, and, sometimes stop...because we all do, sometimes.  
              A human being that will suffer and hurt and fail and express and thrive and win...

                              and it'll all be perfect and my love and I will watch it all.

As much as the above sounds bittersweet...it's all based on hope.

It's all based on believing what's possible and never letting whatever comes at you stop you, NO MATTER WHAT. 

Even the things that might make you want to say that hopefulness breeds disappointment.  
          That hopefulness is for fools.  
          That hopefulness puts you on the path to failure and acceptance of what really may never be.
          That hopefulness is stupid and you'll never do that again.
                That you want to slam the doors on the things that hurt you
                        that didn't go the way you planned
                              that didn't let you be seen for what you can offer and how much you want to give.

Those things are just hiccups.  
None of them are sentencing death to a dream.  
None of them are saying that even those particular situations won't ever truly be.
        It might just be different than you've expected.
        It might just be a space of waiting...of timing, which we are all capable of acknowledging.
    
Frankly, if you want it...be there for it and hold on to the hope.  
If a setback shows up in front of you and you use that as a reason to throw in the towel...well, you really didn't want it in the first place.  
              If you did, you'd wait for the clearing, for the opening, for the space where you can take it and 
              run with it---into whatever beautiful field of possibility that's appeared in front of you.  

Use Hope.  

Really, use it...and let it use you.

Use it to drive you.  
Use it to steer you to streets and cities and whole new worlds that would never be if you gave up.
Use it to express yourself, passionately. 
Use it to forgive yourself and whomever you want to blame for stifling what you're up to.
Use it to create love for those upsets and challenges.
Use it to create good from every experience.
Use it to further you and catapult you into showing yourself how god damn in love with yourself and your life you really are.  
Use it to believe.
Use it to create.
Use it to breathe and love and jump and fly and open your arms wide to let it all just come to you.

Because it will.  

Anything you hope for...Anything you believe is possible...Anything.  

It's all yours.  

It's just a matter of time...

  - Audrey

Wide awake...

I have had a dream, over and over, for years.
It wasn't always clear what happened in the dream...but something was preempting waking from my rest with my arms reaching for the ceiling, left arm extended and the right arm running it's fingers gently up and down.

A light touch, or a tickle, soothing and warm.

I was attributing this to some sort of nervous twitch or a longing to be touched in a gentle way and then the dream clarified itself.

I woke clear and feeling a deep rooted longing to fall back into that place.

I have a fantasy in my REM.

It's likely not entirely a fantasy, but it's felt like one juxtaposed with the paralleled experiences I've had in the real world.

Behind closed eyes I dream of being safe in someone's arms.

The dream is simple.
I wear a short blue dress and no shoes.
He wears a grey shirt and tan slacks.
It is warm but i don't know where we are.

He smells like a man smells after he's been sleeping.
That smell that's hard to describe. That you bury you head into your pillows to remember when he isn't there and can't seem to get rid of when he's gone forever.

I smell like grass...or spring. Fresh and light. Earthy.
Sort of how I'd think I'd smell from what I see in the mirror.

Fresh. Light. Earthy.

All that happens is a hug.

I settle my head into his left chest with my hands snuggly interlaced in front of my chest, elbows down towards his belly.

His arms hold me with strength.

Just a safe, unmoving hold.

A hold that has touch and warmth and safety and love.
                          Deep, quiet, real love.

I stand still and close my eyes.

This is when the faces flash. 5 or so, none I recognize.
                   The last is fuzzy.
The prior are so clear that I feel if I saw them walking down the street, i'd say hello as if they are old familiar friends.

I open my eyes back in the hug and lift my head, look up at him, catching the shadow of a face blocked out by the brightness of the sunshine.  I squint and turn my head down towards his shoulder.
My eyes close again.

I wake up, reaching.

It's that deeper subconscious yearning for someone who has the strength to hold onto me and let me just stay.

It's so hard to believe in that possibility when everyone appears to be running away.

Too busy.
Too wounded.
Too superficial.
Too lost.
Too mistrusting.
Too indignant.
Too driven.
Too damaged.
Too old.
Too young.
Too different.
Too self-absorbed.
Too self-reliant.
Too unfamiliar.
Too scared.

It's possible still, and so, I believe.

This surfacing into my consciousness I begin to see it's only a matter on time.

Today I feel calm and completed in my past.
Today I feel ready for my future.
Today, in the present, is a day filled with awakening
      preceeding a future that might just be filled with
               Spring days, bare feet, blue dresses,
                           and a man in grey Tees that smells like it's morning.