mean reds, nice blues

1965: france gall – poupée de cire, poupée de son

1965: the animals – we gotta get out of this place

1965: the yardbirds – for your love

1961: dion and the belmonts – runaround sue

1958: buddy holly home movie footage

1969: silver apples – i don’t care what the people say

1966-1969: marianne faithfull

1966: roy orbison – in dreams

1968: the beatles in india

70s threads and roller rinks

my mechanism since i was young, with my mother leaving the country never to return again, has given me unmatched strength, and the ability to become accustomed to whatever change may pass my way. i’ve grown up learning not to live today in yesterday, and to be ready for whatever  ups and downs pave my path. with that strength comes the fault and advantage of taking the most sizable of events and living as if i’d merely hit a speed bump.

my beau arrived home last evening from what has seemingly been like endless travel. in bed, we truly realized this time we’re going through is not simple, and it in fact is a big deal. through all this travel we speak constantly; skype, phone, post cards, e-mail. it makes us feel closer, but no matter how much third party communication the days bring us, the truth of the matter is nothing matches human connection. he’s become afraid his work travel may cause him to loose the love of his life. in that moment, with his hand cupped inside my palms, i assured him the only thing that could cause us to physically part would be death. a romeo + juliet reference was mentioned. he’s my other half, and together we’re a whole… that is something no distance can interrupt.

i wanted to spend this weekend away with my love in joshua tree, and surround ourselves in beauty, peace, good vibrations, and love. we nearly packed up and made the drive, though another travel on the road after a full days worth of flying would’ve just knocked down his body.

we instead went to a roller rink. i have not worn a pair of skates in over 10 years. for the first twenty minutes, i was sure i’d make love to the roller way floor… with my face. not this time. fully adorned in the best of 1970s threads… we rolled, we did the hokey pokey, and we had a gas.