Red: Heaven in Hell’s despair


“Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair.”

~ William Blake

The colors became dark. The night air and clubs filled with dark colors and darker tattoos. She remembered when bright colors expressed the vibrant nights in contrast to the dark nights and loud music. To bring the bright colors back was a problem for her.

Bright lipstick and red pants. The joy of watercolors on paper brought the essence of the flowers to life. Why not on her round body, green, purple, and red were the colors she wanted to wear!

She would put the colorful colors of clothing on her body before going out, but at the last-minute took them all off, slipping into her dark cloths again. She put on her old ripped and torn clothing to blend into the crowd. She was hiding her light and cravings for color.

Her friend told her once,

“don’t be afraid to show yourself, and don’t care what anyone thinks…it is you that you have got to please!!”

Tonight, is the night she wore her red pants, black shoes with open toes and a black shirt with a bright red logo. She put the red lipstick on her pale lips.

Another friend told her once to wear lipstick.

“Wear lipstick no matter what. You can get away with skipping all the other makeup, but lipstick is a must. It brings color to your face, and it makes you look finished.”

The night was dark, but her red pants, lips and band-logo were anything but!!


Lynn’s lycanthropy biting at our heels

I love this time of the year… moving into it like a wild cloak of wonder; Crones, screams and laughter; cinnamon, chills and the first full moon of Autumn in the wilds of October. I also honor Lynn now… this is her time.



Me and Lynn 1980

The dark, Halloween and the shadow… here we go again. My best friend, who years ago, before she turned fifty, was my champion of scary and forbidden places. She was a true wild and free soul and lived life by the seat of her pants. Lynn could never break the mold of her youthful lust for life. Even love could not bind her beyond her desire for a type of youthful fulfillment. This time of the year was our time. We ran with the blaspheme of the night with lycanthropy biting at our heels.

My mind now circles with Ouija boards, horror stories and of the film Suspiria.

She led me to depths… depths I dare not always follow! It is hard to understand that Lynn is gone from me now!

She sometimes stands beyond the darkness. At such altered times I catch her memory…the few breaths between twilight and darkness. I feel a longing pain, a need to run with her by way of the hills of our youth. Ah… but she is free now from this aging of these memories….