Stay Gold.

Don’t meet others expectations for you. Don’t expect anyone’s understanding towards your suffering, and do not apologize for your pain. Do set your own goals, and meet your own expectations for yourself despite what society wants for “you.” Do feel your pain, acknowledge it, and do not hide your suffering. Stay Gold to what you are, what you feel, and what you do. Stay Gold to what you need, and what you want. Stay Gold to all those little things that appear shattered and broken in your mind, but so delicately and warmly reflect you.

Stay Gold to you.

-haley.

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The Mystery of the 27 Club.

The first time I ever heard a cryptic organ pound the first parts to “Light my Fire”, I was hooked. Only nine years old, I danced in the hallway outside my brother’s room like a fool; whoever this was I was already in love with them. Jim Morrison was captivating from day one. His face stared back at mine from the poster hung on my brothers closet door, and I wondered exactly who this curly-haired “crazy” was who my brother taught me to love.

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Time spent alone with John (the brother) was like its own little educational hour in itself. I was consistently taught on movies, and most importantly music. Who was who (besides the actual Who) different sounds, era’s, and how to recognize them. We of course spent plenty of time in his Vista Cruiser, driving up to the local CD spot, and adding onto his CD collection. Then, he invested in the starting pieces in my collection. My first rock CD’s were The Who, Ted Nugent, Heart, and of course, The Doors. I was probably the only kid walking around in middle school, day dreaming of what my time would’ve been like with Jim Morrison while other kids were listening to…God I don’t even know what was popular in that time. Moving on, of course my brother quickly schemed over in explaining the Lucky 27’s. Since then, I never really forgot it, but there have been a few people we have added to it.

What in the hell am I talking about? If you’ve never heard of the lucky 27 club, it’s all these musicians that just happened to die at, well, twenty-seven. Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Kobain, and Amy Winehouse among others. While they were still here, and even after they left, The 27 Club have been paralyzing to the mind. We can’t help but stare; at the clothing? Sure. At the outrageous lifestyle? Sure. But the words, the music, and the thoughts they left behind? We cant help but be mesmerized.

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A lot of people love to sum up these people’s lives as drug infused all night insanity poetry sessions. Those people have no depth I can tell you that right now. We need to be willing to push past “summing” people up, and exterior stereotypes. I can’t deny that these people didn’t have probably a steady stream of some sort of high-powered drug running through their veins, but lets look deeper than the usage into why the usage.

From my many years of studying Jim Morrison, anyone you talked to has always said that he was just a lot to “handle.” He was so smart, so progressive, and so ahead that he was almost unobtainable. At a young age he had possessed such an older view on things rather than how he had been raised to think. He was ahead of a time period where The Beach Boys, short hair, and Suzy Q dresses were the only thing acceptable. Jim Morrison refused to be “acceptable”, and lived sometimes a very lonely life doing so. Janis Joplin was much the same; she saw what was around her and refused to settle into it. She couldn’t help but act as her true self wanted to, and was laughed out of the state of Texas for just that. To watch interviews with both her and Jim are captivating. The wisdom that they spill only in their early 20’s, the point of views they bring to the table are mind-blowing. “They were just on drugs” doesn’t cut it anymore. Drugs tire out eventually, but the truth doesn’t. Why are we still spinning their records? Wearing T-shirts with their faces? Buying books on their life, or poetry they wrote?

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To me, every person has a spark. You have to have a certain kind of spark to stay alive in this world, one that other people recognize. Sometimes your spark fuels you through college, and lands you an awesome job. Sometimes your spark helps you connect with other people. Sometimes people dull their spark to settle for more attainable lives, which is what a lot of people are doing these days. People like Jim, Janis, Jimi, Amy, and others…even people like Michael Jackson…I don’t think were born with a spark. They were born with a bonfire inside of their soul. They were so big, and felt so much that they had to do. It’s like everyone see’s life normally, and these people see life through a panoramic view. They are bigger than themselves, they are legends, and because of that it’s almost destructive. Everyone worshiped them, wanted to  be them, and they wanted to escape themselves. They saw, and felt so much that they relayed it through songs, music notes, poetry, sex, and they wanted an escape from feeling so much so often. Maybe drugs helped numb the overall feeling of too much feeling to begin with. Maybe drugs helped close some doors of perception, and pain; Pain that they experienced much too young, pain that caused scaring, and an unknown pain that helped fuel this so-called bonfire.

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We have to understand that there was really nothing they kept to themselves. They put their entire lives in the open for people to see, mainly because they had no choice. Those who saw this raging fire, and new movement took to them like moths to a flame. Others sat and ridiculed them wanting to burn them alive. They were beyond themselves now; they were iconic, legends, and life artists.

Everyone will look to drugs as these people’s main killer. Personally, the world killed them, and their bonfire that they were born with burned them from the inside. They did everything they could to share these flames of amazement with everyone, and we were captivated, but eventually their soul gave out. Janis Joplin died because she was alone. She couldn’t stand to be alone because despite her beautiful laugh she hated herself. So, she injected super strength heroine that knocked her to the ground in seconds. Jim Morrison decided after a sleepless night to take a bath, maybe to relieve his mind that was constantly raging where his lifeless body was found later.

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I truly believed they not only killed themselves, but the world helped. We hated them, smothered them, banned them, made them idols while they attempted to remain true to themselves. Watching Janis Joplin answer questions, she tells not one lie. She’s authentic, and full of love. Listening to her sing, I hear nothing but pain. Reading Jim’s poetry is breath-taking. I may not understand all of it because I will never see, or understand things as he did. I don’t think there is exactly a big mystery about the Lucky 27 club. They themselves were a super strength drug that the world, and not even themselves could handle. They burnt up from the inside out, and life was merely too small for their spirits.

Song of the Week is Curses Invocations by Jim Morrison.

-haley.

An Artist?

So this is coming to you midweek. Goodness! Its been extremely difficult recovering from spring break, and forcing myself to work once again. Until then, I hope everyone is fabulous.

While speaking with a publisher this week on (hopefully) the future of my novel being in actual bookstores, he asked me what I do for a living. I’m the twenty-one year old college dropout (because I have no money), working for simple cash, being uncommitted, and I’m writing on the side. I sound like a should be dancing in a field with Jim Morrison, and daisy’s strung throughout my wild hair. That actually sounds fabulous, but when speaking with a publisher you really want to sound powerful. When I heard the words “blogger” spill out of my mouth, I realized how vague I sounded. It felt awful too because my blog is extremely important to me, and its my life. This is what I want to DO with my life, and its my art quite honestly. It really sucks that everyone, literally everyone, and their mom has decided to take up on this so-called art.

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Now, lets back up a bit. I’m all for art. I want children, adults, scientists, and their best friends to love art. I hate what education has become which is really not learning at all, or wanting children to feel free. It’s about turning them into little mathematical and English reading specialists. Personally, I think we should all be painting, and studying life…which is why I just can’t work in education anymore. Basically, I’m an artistic advocate nut. Its crucial, at least in my life. Art isn’t something everyone wants to do, and those people who pursue it can do amazing things. There are a lot of artists out there, and different types of artists that make it extremely hard to get recognition. There are artists that are having fun, some stumbled upon their profession, and then there are those who are actively chasing this dream. I guess I stumbled, and immediately started chasing. I’m trying to improve myself, my thought process, my words, my time, my blog, myself, others, and I love what I’m doing. I take it very seriously. Its art; I live it, breathe it, speak it, and appreciate it. Its my life.

With all that being said, I’m incredibly proud of the people who want to be artists, and come to me asking for blog advice because they want to start a one. It’s an incredible thing to know your words (hopefully) reach people. For me, even if it’s just one its amazing, and fulfilling. However, I do have one piece of advice. Writing is an act of faith; it’s an art. All writing is different, just like paintings. Picasso does not look like Leonardo da Vinci. They are a bit distinctive, but they worked their poor insane asses off not even knowing they would be in textbooks. If this is not a faith to you, or an art, then double think what you would be doing, and what you would be typing away about. Your time, your words, and your dedication will be vastly important. I take my art seriously, because it can be scary. That’s what bugs me about people who say, “Art is fun, don’t take it so seriously!” It is amazing, and fun, but its a way of life! It’s a grinding your teeth, crying over characters you made up, upsetting sometimes, all time beautiful endorphin rush that is comparable to a runners marathon. It’s ridiculously difficult, and amazing. Art is not just about appreciation, being poor, dubbed as insane, but about compromise and exposure. You are compromising your lifestyle, money, health, and sanity to expose your feelings, and make sure they appear beautiful in a way not only to yourself, but others. This is a profession; this is the only life I know. Thats how I call myself a blogger, and an artist.

-haley.

P.S – New contest coming, song of the week is Love Street by The Doors, and find our Facebook Page and Instagram!

Texas Ink

Hello lovelies! So, I am full-out sick yet I’m still having a pretty good week! I would love to wear my oxygen, however, putting a cannula up a stuffy nose is a little useless. I cant wait to get my first full paycheck, not only because paying for school but retail therapy! DUH! I’ve also had a craving for a new tattoo lately. Oh yes, I love tattoos. I wanted one for a long time and was told that it wouldn’t be a good idea having PH, so I avoided the hassle. But finally the craving got to be too much to handle and I did it anyways. Somewhat with my doctors permission. I’m totally that patient yáll. The one the doctor just wants to secretly murder cause I’m never really quite doing what I’m suppose to be doing. But for the most part I listen!! 🙂 I’m not TOO horrible.

I presented the idea to my doctor back in February, asking if it would be ok. Since I was finally doing better, he said he thought it was fine as long as the artist knew the risks. That was the other thing, making sure the artist understood the medication I was on. The thing about Pulmonary Hypertension, is most people develop blood clots as a side effect, so most doctors put us on a blood thinner like Coumadin or Warfarin. I’m on Warfarin, and being on a blood thinner we get our “pro-time”or INR checked at least once a month to see how thick or thin our blood is and keep it in a certain range. Believe me, I’m totally that patient with a million missed calls on my phone because I haven’t had my blood checked in two months. One time they scheduled a little intervention for me on why I had to come. Oh yes. I’m awful. Do as I say, not as I do people. Well the risks with any blood thinner is not to get bumped (especially your head) or cut cause you’ll bleed or bruise more easily. I even had to switch to a soft bristle tooth-brush because my gums would bleed. So, before having a needle go through my skin a thousand times a minute, it was a good idea to be off that medication for at least a week. It was a risk that I don’t recommend doing without doctor approval.

A month later, I chose the best place in my town to get tattooed at! Which is the most important step. I also went in 2 weeks ahead of time to show my artist what I wanted and to see if he could do it. My original tattoo wasn’t a possibility in the area and size I wanted and he was honest with me by saying no. So we decided on my backup plan which worked perfectly and I love it more than my original choice. Chris (my artist) was clean, calming, funny and helpful! He took time to help me choose exactly what I wanted and he made me a little less nervous when tattooing me. Did it hurt? Somewhat. It felt like a cat scratching me over and over. After about 15 minutes, it starting to sting a little more and more but I was shocked at how horrible it wasn’t! I love my tattoo and definitely want more (in hidden places). Don’t let your disease stop you!! Pursue it, WITH doctor approval!

I have “PHenomenal Hope” tattooed across my left side on my ribs. The capitalization of the PH symbolizes my PH obviously, and I wanted it close to my chest since this is where my disease originates. Plus, rib tattoos are just pretty. Excuse the cheetah print bra. The tattoo is actually straight across, but my arm is lifted pretty high! I absolutely love my tattoo and it’s something I’ll never regret. The recovery hurt more than the tattooing in my opinion! I was super sore, and actually ran a fever the next day! So prepare for that. I didn’t bleed or bruise at all throughout the process either. Lucky me. So yea, I’ve joined the ink clan. And I’m ready for more. Prepare for Kat Von Haley.

-haley