Lolly Paige Lennox
I am known for my gifts in Tarot and the dead, the Dead, being grateful and psychedelic and a little strange in the head. Sort of a beatnik, like a harlot, or a bard, and a sorcerer. Definitely a nerd.
Not a professional - Probably an expert
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The curve jutted out on the right where a pine tree sat beside the road. It led to the left where it swooped up again. We could see the cabin in the distance when I suddenly woke up inside the living room. The fireplace was roaring before me. I lifted my head as I laid clung to the floor, barely able to raise my hand.
There are days life feels so mundane I’d do almost anything to get out of living it. Well, almost anything. I suppose there are a few things I won’t do if I’m still here doing this instead. In a way, I am happy to be sitting in my kitchen on a gloomy Sunday morning–late morning, where you know the sun is hiding brightly behind the clouds but it’s out of sight because the rain is too loud. I get the chance to hear each drop pitter-patter on my tin roof, along the walls. I am in awe every day of these simple delights; like coffee in my cup and a newspaper to thumb.
A Reason for the Season
I thought back to all my holidays past and I have genuinely loved every single one. There were some odd things that have occurred on holidays–like when one cousin went to jail, or when an ax-murderer shared our Christmas dinner, or even spending an entire evening trying to find out who one of your blood relatives even is–its always some random auntie. I even consulted my honorary PIC for every holiday, and she had nothing to add (save for the bit about Aunt Sharon).
The Life We Built
I never remember meeting Lexie. It was one of those things when you're in high school and you just see people everyday, or you know someone who knows someone, and you know of each other. I never remember being introduced or having a formal moment when I met them. I just remember gawking in the hallways at what a free-spirit he was, even back then. I will never forget seeing the most graceful being doing twirls down B Hall in a tutu on a school day. Even back then, Lexie was a hero.
Oh, Just to Be Me
I remember things like numbers and dreams. I am constantly doing equations that may mean nothing, or angels. Sometimes I wake up and write down the things I dreamt just moments before. I rarely forget a face, but often let feelings fade. I am someone who, I would say, believes. And I mean in just about everything. From the aesthetic of the Catholic church to Mortal Kombat being a divine tale. In myself, in aliens. Above all, I believe in myself. I believe love can change the world, and that anything is possible. I never gave up this idea; I never lost hope. Even in moments of doubt or question of faith... Hope is what always remains.
Granny always says: “No Owls.” She tells me stories from when she was young, and when her grandma was young–alive, at least. She says every time an owl showed up to one of us, it meant someone would die. So going out looking for owls or wearing owls or painting owls meant you were wishing death upon somebody. I went out of my way to avoid any hoots or prints of the feathered creatures my whole life. She almost ripped a few things off my neck for even just resembling an owl too much. But I would never. If my grandma says owls are bad luck, then I believe her. I am one who will avoid a risk with such a dire consequence.
When I was young, though I don’t feel old now… I hit the road and drove around the country all alone. I just decided I’d leave, 5 weeks that time. It’s something I did once in a while. Sometimes with friends for a weekend; times a journey into the abyss; some casual cross-country road trips. Whatever it is, I feel like I am my truest self when I am out in the open, between some mountains - in my spaceships - alone in the wind. When I experience freedom from all things is when I can be my truest self, if you can imagine that. It sounds so obvious but some people never even consider it.
The Alchemy of Rose Gold
It all comes back to this place you know you couldn’t have possibly been before but you miss ever so dearly, yet you’ve never been sure where you got the notion of it ever really starting. Sometimes you hear a song, or see a person, or just remember the good times and suddenly all of those things are all happening in the same moment–and I mean it’s all happening, at once. The sounds of the music and the faces and the events, all at once. Not jumbled up or misheard, but just happening. It’s transcendent! It’s practically a feeling. But at the same time, it never happened so it doesn’t truly exist and you don’t know what a feeling is.