Friday, February 29, 2008

Phenominal Film: "Amal"

I saw this film at a screening this past week and I was pleasantly surprised. This film could not have come at a better time in my life, for it reminds me that there is still genuine goodness in the world and that the poorest man can have the humblest and richest soul.

Amal, a multi-layered portrait of contemporary India that follows an auto-rickshaw driver in New Delhi (Amal) who is content with his small, but vital role in life. Though many may seem to view his occupation as menial by North American standards, he sees it as a gratifying and take pride in the auto-rickshaw his father has spent a lifetime saving for, to pass on to him.

One day he drives an eccentric, often mentally "loose" billionaire (GK Jayaram), disguised as a vagabond and close to his death, sets off to search the streets for the last morsel of humanity. He wishes to leave his fortune not to his greedy and arrogant son, but someone who has been un-touched by corruption and still remains pious and faithful in the power of kindness.

Filmed on location in New Delhi, India, this modern day fable asks the important question of what success means to each individual in his/her life. The screen is graced by some on India's top stars and this is the first production of Mississauga (U of T graduate), Ritchie Mehta. In fact the star of piece is also of local talent (Rupinder Nagra).
The story is optimistic and provides a flicker of hope that the human mind and rise above the obstcle of imposed poverty and deprivation. I highly recommend checking this film out when it is widely released this coming summer. Amal debuted at The Toronto International Film Festival last year, after Mehta won the pitching competition to the TIFF board of directors.

Support your local talent, it is defiantly worth the few bucks in this case.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Gabrielle: "Should I Stay?"

Gabrielle: "Dreams"

This is one of my favourite songs of all time. I have this thing for Gabrielle's voice, very low and kind of rough, similar to T-Boz (from TLC). When I first heard this song, I was in Britian for a visit and I came back with the single in hand and an obsession for the catchy hook and beautiful orchestra piece. About 2 months later, this song hit the charts in North America. So here is TG's way back, fave playback!

"You know you got to have hope, you know you got to be strong..."

Please Forgive ME

I am embarrassed. Really ashamed, like never before, that I became one of those stupid girls who cried all the time and tumbled to the ground with such weak composure. My ignorance was victim to the fear of you leaving my side. I bowed at your feet in honest plea, but you did not even share the same belief system as me. We worshiped from different levels, at different alters, with different desires to embrace inhabitation/ecstasy. I was so far away from receiving any compensation for the emotions and kind sentiment that I unveiled in hopes of a companionship of respect and love, that I let you step all over me. I am the only one to blame, I know this.

I want to remove my blinders now.
I am a host of imperfections, but my silly heart made me believe that if I stood by your side, you would see that I had the power to be a good influence in your life, to cherish you and for us to have eachother at our sides. The truth is you did not see me as a bridge to the sky, you saw me as a magic carpet ride that would eventually come to an end, a demise. But no matter the destinations that I tried to carry your energy, you refused to open your heart, mind and time to me for more than a few pre-disposed moments of time.

If you want something bad enough, I was told, you will catch it with your hands and never let it go. Like a firefly in a jar, I wanted to shine for only you. But I was not given the nurture I needed to shine at my brightest.

Life is an illusion if you allow yourself to be tricked into believing that what you want is not what you need. I was never needed by you, I did not listen to you tell me that in so many different ways. I should have heard you, for I am not deaf. I am more than what you have denominated me into being, an emotional freak with no direction and no sense of self-respect. I felt helpless because I did could not reach you, or if I did, you made me feel nothing but ordinary, though you told me I was special to you.

I will no longer be pushed aside, or be tormented by the loss of what I wished us to have and be. It was not based in truth. I must learn to forgive myself for my pathetic display of self-defecating behaviour, but it is not easy. The battle within continues…how can I learn to forgive myself for the mistakes I have made? It was not you that hurt me, it was me that allowed you to hurt me.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008


Okay, okay. Love them or hate them, they are damn catchy and they finished there World Tour yesterday in Toronto. Of course as I predicted alongside the rest of the world, the entire 2008 tour was no completed. Obviously this was never gonna happen with the longtime feud between the two strong personalities in the group (Ginger Vs. Scary). Personally these two have always been my faves. Unlike the rest of the world who seem to be very fascinated with anorexic-Posh Spice, I always thought that Useless Spice was a more appropriate title for her. UGH. She has no voice and no rhythm. Useless I say!

Obviously the Spice Girls are by no means musical genius, but they knew how to commodify and sell their image. That is in the spirit of true popstars. I admit it, in high-school my friend bought me a Scary Spice doll, which I still have and will now pass on to my child. LUCKY CHILD! I wore big platforms and bought a Union-Jack shirt. Though unlike YOU posers, I am a real Brit! Fun pop is what the Spice Girls will be remembered for and the spirit of the created GIRL POWER concept.

According to many studies, the Spice Girls will be remembered as fashion and image icons and a massive musical phenomenon of the 20th century. So whether you despise them or you know the entire choreography for the “Wannabe” video, we can’t deny how much of an impact these gals have had on popular culture.


Think people…profound!

All I can say, in the spirit of cheese and fun, I will miss you Spicies! TG LOVES YOU!!! Those who are judging me, eat my ass.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

"Honey" : Erykah Badu

The funky, groovey, sistah is back again! A brand new single and the same creativity and smooth funk. Also, today is not only Erykah Badu's birthday, but my niece, SIENNA'S 10th too!!

Happy Birthday my Pices friends.
Millions of kisses to Aunt P's honey!!!!!!!!!!

Click on the title to see which album covers Miss BADU spoofs in this video.

Bacon & Eggs

Memories are a most potent reflection of your experiences and your emotions throughout your life. Some wish to drowned their memories, while others learn to appreciate what they did not necessarily have, but were inspired to feel, through looking back. Once a memory is embedded in your heart and engraved in your mind, it can stay with you always. Day after day. Holding on to the good memories, when left with the pain of what made you part ways in the bad, is often one of the hardest accomplishments to salvage your heart and mind to agree upon.

In the morning, bacon and eggs. Lying in her arms on the green, Astroturf roof, basking in the sun and soaking up each one of its rays with such a respect for how happy I was. I felt so damn complete. Even though I knew I could enjoy all these activities by my own self, I felt so much more at peace with her by my side. Watching her lean, slim and agile body hop over the barrier like a frog, effortlessly. She could fly like a superhero. The bacon and eggs were always cooked to perfection, crunchy and fluffy. My contribution to the mix was the introduction of rye bread.

At night, pouring wine, smoking weed and just laying tight in eachother’s arms. The moon rising and silence. Only the beat of our hearts to be heard beside the rustle of leafs and the sound of squirrels throwing things down from the massive tree, who had spread its arms to shield our love.

We pretzeled and she wrapped herself like a blanket around my body, to keep me warm. I wanted to give her everything that I could to make her happy. But like most memories, now I just have a remembrance of yesterday and that time stood still.

Tina asks, "What's love got to do with it?" I say everything.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Ever Wonder? - Art-o-fact : Armour

Armour is essentially a defensive suit. Historically it has taken on many different choices in material for its body. Early civilization crafted these suits with a more primal and nature associated image. These suits were made wood, bone, and leather. As time went on and the humans graduated into the knowledge of producing metal, bronze and steal, the suit became more of a human shield.

As the weaponry increased intensity by expanding in how much harm it could inflict (think and infantry of Roman Soldiers marching up in tight formation with massive, heavy blunt objects. Think 300!)

Culturally, armour is a subject of accessibility through art as well. The typical depiction of armour is not limited to a scene of soldiers on a battlefield. Armour was often an image of virility and fashion. Alongside their fancy and sturdy codpieces (A pouch at the crotch of the tight-fitting breeches worn by men in the 15th and 16th centuries).

We often find images of princes, leaders, politicians, patricians, all strongly conveying an image on honour in masculinity through wearing armour. In art the image and armor is used as token image of revere, both in social respect and moral obligation.

Henry VIII by Hans Holbein the Younger (please click on the codpiece to see the true size of Henry's member)

Armour is an artifact of history. We can look to engravings, carvings, drawings, music, architecture, painting, ceramics, sculpture, painting, carpentry as creations people find value in that they have chosen to be made visible. The Gods, Life, Beauty, Death, Despair and Honour seem to be suitable words to describe the scope of association. A man of the battlefield is as enticing as the sweet sorrow of a soldier’s body being mourned by a soprano’s crescendo in a performance at the opera house.

Armour is essentially always constructed to protect its wearer. We can see that armour changes in sophistication and is always trying to be better suited to be the most effective in understanding how to protect vital areas of the human body.

By no means does armour guarantee life after, even today. If the blow of something hitting you makes contact with enough force to kill you, then you will die. In the past, as in the present, the energy of armour remains an aggressive body, both literally and figuratively, both in art and in life.

Friday, February 22, 2008


So my boss gave me the coolest opportunity. She let me help her write a script for a video we are producing for Cisco Systems! Cisco is a major player in corporate world and was recently rated the #6 best employer in Macleans Magazine.

So you can imagine my excitement and fear when she asked me to contribute!! Our joint writing effort will appear on a Cisco environmental awareness video in the near future. We are also producing this video from top to bottom. It is very cool to get a behind the scenes perspective of all the energy and time it takes to get a production together.

It is nice to have someone believe in your skills. I am always appreciative to those who see my eagerness and love of writing. Katherine has spotted this in me, and wants to give me the opportunity to do script writing for my company! The world of production is new to me, but I am loving each moment, each challenge and each learning experience. Katherine is a great mentor and teacher.

I am excited!! YAY! Maybe one day I will be the mastermind behind a winning production. (0:

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Floods are NO FUN!

The city is apparently in a state of panic, there are fires burning and there are floods in many old buildings and houses. Everyone is booked. Production Assistant must find a solution.

I call one, another, leave 10 messages. Finally human contact. They come in. "This is a big problem," they say. Thanks we didn’t figure that out?!

My boss is the coolest, most together, hard working woman around. She wipes her brow and keeps her cool. I want to cry for her. But Production Assistant is not allowed to cry, unless the Producer/Director gives her the go ahead (0:

One hundred industrial fans are brought in, one million strange men come in and march through with there dirty shoes and logistical minds. Cracks in the foundation of the beautiful house. Like a menstrual flow, it keeps on leaking. Steady flow. Maybe I could stick a tampon into the leaky zones? Maybe not.

Thousands of dollars already gone to finding the source of this leak. Hundreds and thousands of dollars worth of editing equipment sits in the basement edit suite. We will not let it fall pray to this evil water.

Wish us luck.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Focus Switch

Don't fuck with me. I am not your friend, I am not your enemy. I am no one to you. That is what you wanted it to be. No one will ever replace me. You gave nothing unconditional, you messed with my soul. I had to battle the darkest places of my bright mind, to get around to a place where I could once again be mine. I am not some silly hoe, that sits around and thinks that she is not worthy of commitment, consistency and unconditional love.

I am the beginning and the end. I am everything when there will be nothing left. I will be the last one standing when everyone else has been disowned. I will be the brightest fire when everything else has crumbled to dust. I will be the calmest water to wash a tide of nourishment over your body when you are near drout. I will quench your thirst. I will feed the hungers of your desires. I will fuck you deeper, kiss you softer.

I am so much more than just a woman. Sturdy in heart, strong in mind. Honest with words when coming to express that which I wish to be mine. I may struggle with all that you gave me, which was a shady dose of something that amounted to not enough. But I will not give up.

Don't fuck with me. For if you had any respect, you would see, that I am on my way to greatness, without equalling you and me.

I want it all. It will be mine. Do not fuck with me. I am not that blind.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

"Goodness Gracious Me: Rehabilitation"

Okay, this is the funniest thing this brown girl has ever seen! Ram, Krisha, Shiva and Ganesh! Om shanti.


The planet invited me to relax upon the perimeter of its surface, welcoming me like an open mouth of a grave.
Here, upon the planet was once where I rested my head, I closed my eyes and dreamed of foreign galaxies, stars passing through atmospheric horizons, natural phenomenon’s within my reach.
Big bang. Explosion. Black space.

The planet is nearly completely destroyed. The pieces of what it was, the sustainer of life when I rested upon its shell, are fragmented into shiny floating particles.
Now these reflective particles only mirror back to me, my world becoming erased.
Displaced heavenly body.
Spinning off its axis, no rotational pull.
Swallowed by a vacuum. A black hole. No gravity to gain balance.
On-lookers find it hard to even conceive it was once inhabited.
No trace of life remains.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

The Departure

Too far to ever come back home. Too lost to ever be found. Too hurt to ever stop crying. Too haunted to ever see her picture and not miss her lavender, smooth black skin. Too weak to think about the touch of her strong arms. Too cold to feel the heat that came from her body.

She once sat on the sofa beside her, and watched every fragile movement she made with her own eyes. Memories bleed like running paint. She asks for peace, but it seems that no one is paying mind. She can’t be happy. She really has tried. But she can’t see beyond yesterday. Perhaps her heart is not as strong as she once believed. The only thing that keeps her knowing that she is alive is the pain.

Perhaps she is defective, un-effective, self disrespected.
She wasn’t always like this.
She wants to hide away from the world that rejected her, the lovers that have bruised her heart and mind. She goes out and tries to re-connect with the friends she has neglected and the family she has by her side. With all her heart, she tries. But it just does not stop the pain. She fakes a smile. Her moods are more violent than a storm that summons the rain. The music seems to be made for her moodiness.
She wasn’t always like this.
She can’t help but feel responsible for the degradation of her soul, so much hurtful shame. But she can’t save herself. She is too far-gone. She is not sweetness. She only tastes like the salt of her companion tears.

She is so sorry that she let you down. She fights the temptation to tell you that she needs you by her side. You are no longer talking and she can no longer plea. She is far beyond repair, she now realizes. Her spirit is near dead. She is an empty vessel that carries the message of what she once believed in. Love, life, happiness.

Stale rooms full of people dancing. Yet she still feels so alone. The sound of laughter fills the air, but her stomach continues to turn. She can’t wait for this life to end. She remembers seeing the face of death in the hospital room, just a few short months ago. It seems too have decided to leave with her, and taunts her day and night.

She wants to go back home now.

Friday, February 15, 2008

GO Train Petition

Please sign and teach these fuckers that we ain't gonna pay more for this already bullshit service!!! Just click on the title. Help your brown sistah out, even if you don't ride the GO.


"Lo Que Siente La Mujer": Madonna

Thursday, February 14, 2008


Love. Elevate your mind and find all the love that immerses your aura. As many times as you may feel that you have died from loosing someone you love, you must hold on. Do not betray the love you have fought for without the dignity of persevering at spreading her word through your practice. Love is everywhere and as soon as you taste, smell, sing and dance in her praise, you will find that you are free to live alive. Love is the only thing that is not rational, nor can it be explained by science. Love is beyond the realm of tangible pleasure and philosophical understanding. Love is simply spiritual. Nothing can damage us more then when we feel abandoned by her grace, or a stranger to her touch. Love is a feeling beyond words. Love is a feeling of ultimate in-habitation. Love, when embraced in all her glory, will jolt your still body like an exorcist, and allow your mind to expand to see the beauty that is within yourself. We all need to feel special.

Wear your love.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

History Bite: Veronica Franco

Veronica Franco (1546-1591) was a poet and courtesan in sixteenth-century Venice.
In Renaissance Venetian society, there existed a hierarchy even amongst courtesans: la cortigiana onesta, or the intellectual courtesan, and la cortigiana di lume, or the lower-class courtesans (modern day prostitutes).

Veronica Franco was one of the most celebrated and revered courtesans of her time. She spent her time, much like her Asian counterpart, the geisha, learning the art of seduction, while also receiving a first-class and multi-disciplinary education. This education was rare for a woman of this time, and usually restricted to women of the upper ranks of society. So becoming a courtesan would not only grant a woman sexual/gender freedom, but it would also permit her to gain the same insight into art, literature and culture as a male counterpart.

Veronica inherited her career of courtesan, as her mother before her had also practiced as cortigiana onesta. Thus, Veronica was trained and taught by not only the hands of her own mother, but also given the experience of entering the Court of Venice through her mother’s previous connections. Veronica wasted no time with this power and independence at her fingertips. She quickly rose through the ranks to consort with some of the leading notables of her day, even engaging in a liaison with Henry III, King of France (who was gay!).

Veronica Franco by Jacopo Tintoretto, 1575

Veronica Franco wrote two volumes of beautiful poetry: Terze rime in 1575 and Lettere familiari a diversi in 1580. Franco was also the first woman to see the desperation and need for social and mental support for the Venetian courtesan. Aware of how lucky she was to have such a informative and supportive mother she saw the suffering of many other courtesans around her for survival. Beauty was convulsive, as it remains today and when a courtesan was old and past her time she was given very little regard for what she could now do with her life thereafter. Veronica founded a charity for courtesans and their children to attempt to help this cause.

While some don't admire Veronica's mother for placing her daughter into the lifestyle of sexual exploitation, at the time becoming a courtesan was the only way a woman from a middle-class family could have the freedom to receive an education and discover the world outside the domestic realm.

In 1575, the epidemic of plague that ravaged the city of Venice and cleaned out nearly half the population in neighbouring cities. At this most turbulent time, many projected the annihilation of life as a sign of God punishing the city for all their carnal sin; the courtesan being the centre of this saga. Veronica Franco was forced to leave Venice and lost much of her wealth when her house and possessions were looted. On her return in 1577, she defended herself with dignity in an Inquisition for witchcraft trial. The Church and the people needed someone to blame for all the intolerable death that surrounding each corner, thus the courtesan became the witch of her time.

The charges were dropped when she intelligently asked those who had fallen to her witchcraft at the trial to rise and sighted them as accomplices. Dozens of men in the courts stood up and showed their honesty in support for her carnal sin and their mutual enjoyment of this. The Church was silenced for once!!

If you are interested in seeing Veronica Franco’s life depicted quite tastefully, check out: “Dangerous Beauty,” starring Catherine McCormack as Veronica Franco.

I leave you with a couple quotes from Veronica Franco:
“Women have not yet realized the cowardice that resides, for if they should decide to do so, they would be able to fight you until death; and to prove that I speak the truth, amongst so many women, I will be the first to act, setting an example for them to follow.”

[From Capitolo 8, to a man who loves her while she loves another, with equally little reward:]
Perhaps Love even laughs at these shared tears
and, to make the world weep even more,
divides and sunders yet another's desire;
and, while he makes merry over this,
the wide sea of all our tears
darkens and deepens further still:
for if man could love to his heart's content,
without confronting contrary desires,
the pleasure of love would have no equal.

And if destiny had laid down the law
that in supreme delight, earthly good
may not attain the bliss of heaven,
my woe is all the greater as my habit is
to fall in love, and to feel, through loving,
this beloved mismatch in love.
However much I reflect on myself,
I see that fortune leads me wherever
life follows an always troubled path;... [ll.76-93; p.103]

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Tupac Shakur: "Keep Your Head Up"

Tupac is one of the most socially concise, poetic realists that continues to inspire me with his heart, wisdom, struggle and intelligence.
RIP Thug Angel. Your words live on....

"I Am Because We Are"

Monday, February 11, 2008

Ever Wonder? : The Coldest Place on Earth

If you guessed Antarctica, you are a smart cookie. Give yourself a pat on the back! Get this: in our lifetime the lowest temperature on earth measurable was -129 Fahrenheit (-89 Celsius) in Vostok, Antarctica. July 21, 1983.

Below an Antarctic glacier, lies a natural reservoir of fresh water known as Lake Vostok. Lake Vostek is covered by nearly 3km of ice on its surface.
Lake Vostok is situated beneath the Russian research station (Vostok Station).

“Intense pressure from the overlying ice generates heat which, combined with geothermal heat from below, is thought to keep the Vostok's million-year-old water in a liquid state. The ice also serves as an insulating blanket.

Some 393 feet (120 meters) above the lake rests the lower end of the deepest ice core ever drilled -- 11,886 feet (3,623 meters) below the frigid surface. There, in freshwater ice that researchers think has migrated upward from the lake, a community of microbes -- extremophiles, defined by the term -- thrive in some of the harshest conditions imaginable.”

In other words, Lake Vostok has been cut off below the ice for nearly 15 billion years and has the possability to play home to some astonishing and resiliant lifeforms.


So imagine that! That is COLD. Those creatures need little heating pads!

al dottore


“It hurts il dottore, please make it stop!!”

“Inflammation of the heart, Signora. Defiantly not a-cute disease,” spoke the wise doctor. “This seems to be a re-occurring condition with you. You should defiantly think about taking it easy and allowing yourself time to heal.”

“Il dottore, I don’t understand. I put on the ointment you had recommended after my last treatment. I rubbed it in deeply in a circular motion like you had told me to do. But it seems that it has further troubled my ability to breathe clearly and thus, think clearly.”

“Signora, did you allow yourself the time to relax and heal since your last intense treatment? I had mentioned that if you did not allow yourself the proper time to heal in between your treatments, you would experience twice the heart burn and your heart would swell to an abnormally and un-healthy size. We are not talking about a small issue here. Without your health you can not feel the things you need to feel, especially in that heart of yours.”

“Why il dottore! I just want to breath as clearly as when I was young. To have my heart beat with the same confidence and size in rhythm as any other good heart that is at work. But I am ashamed. Who can ever need a girl who has such a deformed and tumultuous condition of heart? I did place the ointment on, I swear. But I did not rest. I have a hard time turning off my mind and body.”

“Signora, go home and read a book, watch a movie. Enjoy a fine dinner with a friend, but you must stay still now. Or I fear the worse.”

“The worst you say il dottore?”

“Yes. A complete systems failure. If your heart swells anymore and you do not allow rest, I am afraid it will combust and the inflammation will mutate into an early ending. In order to survive, there must not be any more damage done to your heart right now. You are already experiencing a hard time just allowing yourself to receive oxygen to breath”


“You will die young Signora.”

“You are a fool! An incapable fool! Don’t make such a mess of something that is nothing. So it hurts, I will survive. I am sorry about complaining. It is really not that bad.”

“Signora the change must be now, or you will die.”

“I must go. Have a nice day, il dottore.”

"Signora, you must learn to take care of yourself."

"Yes. Goodbye."


Sunday, February 10, 2008

Live 8- Annie Lennox: "Why"

This was the performance that touched me the most at Live 8. Every morning that you wake up, I urge you to ask, "WHY?"

Annie Lennox: "Waiting In Vain"

Beautiful, emotive and captures the poetry of Bob Marley with a most respectful touch. One of my most favourite artists, singing one of my most favourite songs. "Tears in my eyes burn, tears in my eyes burn, while I'm waiting, while I'm waiting for my turn..."

Friday, February 8, 2008

Right Brained? OR Left Brained?

Click on the title to check out what you see! There are no illusions involved! TG is RIGHT BRAINED! No suprise there (0:
Dance with me??!!

Thursday, February 7, 2008


I look at the clock. It is 6:21am. I can’t sleep because I wake up thinking of you lying/laying beside me. Your smile, you watching me. Your warmth. I feel so cold, I shiver. I pull the sheets to my face and try to stop the quivering of my bones. She did not call me back or for me. I can’t hear you.

I long to hear her voice. She doesn’t see the sincerity of my tears, or even want to try before she sends me away. Time is up.

I am so lonely, so scared. All I can feel is how much I was filled with my love for her. Now I keep myself busy, praying that with time my love will heal.

I fight the temptation of the time past, but I mourn the reality that with age comes loneliness. So many friends we loose along the way, how many lovers will still go astray. Time. I can’t sleep, for I wake up thinking what else will be gone tomorrow.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Old People Anal?

Question: Can old people still have anal, or do they leak all over the place? Does saggy ass lead for saggy aftermath?

Review: "Intimate Apparel"

We are responsible for our own dreams and ambitions. We must sew each patch of our lessons, struggles and triumphs together and recall that we are never unable to know the colour, size of significance of the patch until much after it has been embellished the body of our overall work.

On Saturday night, with a good friend in arm, I saw "Intimate Apparel" at the Berkeley Street Theatre. It was breathtaking. The story tells the tale of a 35-year old, black seamstress, Ester, who has lived a life of solitude from the intimacy of another’s touch. Ester lives a content life by handcrafting the most elegant undergarments for various affluent or sexually desirable women, in early 20th century New York. Ester does not think herself as anything special, for she looks quite ordinary and nothing like the fancy ladies that grace the seats at the opera, or dine at the finest restaurants.

One day the seamstress receives a letter from a strange man in Panama. This man seems to have taken a romantic interest in her, but has never met her or seen her. Ester quickly becomes enticed by his charms and begins an intense love affair of letters, over the duration of a few months. One day she recieves a letter in which he propositions marriage to her and coming to live with her in New York. She agrees with pure delight, as she feels that this man can open a place in her heart that she has never dared to enter.

After they are officially married and they begin their life together, she finds out that this man is not at all the man that she "fell in love with". In fact he was not even the man that wrote all those enticing and lovely letters to her. He had commissioned another to write these words; someone else to violate Ester's heart. Ester learns that in her husbands heart lays nothing much more than a desire for sex, alcohol and anger.

Never settle for less than you deserve. Sometimes standing alone can be the most powerful experience that you can embark upon. Never let anyone tell you are worth anything less than the value of a most flawless diamond, even in the rough.

Ester quickly begins to change who she is. She applies bright red lipstick, she wears the beautiful corsets that she crafts for her clients. She hopes of recieving her hubands attention, but he shuts her down and she is humiliated. Ester even finds out that her best friend is sleeping with her husband, when she finds a delicate Japanese silk jacket she made him as a wedding gift, at her best friends house.

The knife can always dig deeper. Apply pressure to the wound and quickly. Though it maybe initially painful, remove without hesitation the blade that impacted your skin in the first place. You MUST remove the blade that caused you such pain in order to begin the slow process of healing.

“Intimate Apparel” was flawlessly casted. Each character was given a relatable story so that the viewer could feel an overall sense of connection to the whole. The intelligent writing was hard to ignore. The overall atmosphere the actors were able to create and maintain was most memorable to all those in the theatre.

Like each one of us, this story tells of people who have dreams and seek connections, the documentation of lovers who can spark your senses with delight and then the strangers they often turn out to really be. But more than anything this play reminds us, that with each of us is the ability to survive and move beyond all pain. Truly alone realize our own inner and outer beauty.

Sometimes when we go through the transition of change we realize that we were better off where we started, then where we moved. The momentum of change does not always promise to move you forward.

Under our clothes there lays our hearts-- such complex and powerful devices. It has been sewed into each of our bodies as a beacon of hope and to allow us to feel such an aching for all masterful desires.