Just a Nicks Nudge

I loved flowing skirts, boots and hats. Still do.

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Watching the latest episode of “American Horror Story” instigated a memory. It was a wonderful tribute to Stevie Nicks, or “the White Witch,” as Lily Rabe’s Misty Day called her. “take flight” when she sang along to the background song of     “Rhiannon”

Flying is what I want if I could pick a personal superpower.  Flying in dreams is great, but to truly take flight. I am contemplating.

Years ago  I was living in Michigan with my daughter. We were undulated by a Northern blizzard of snow that came off Lake Michigan. No one on the roads. She asked me if we could go out and play in the snow with the car. I thought too myself, and then told her “If you can get the car out from under the snow piled up on it, then yes, we could play.

An hour or so later after acquiring the services of several neighbor boys she came to tell me she was ready.

No one on the roads. Snow and wind blowing as we carefully made our way. We did circle 8’s in an empty parking lot. When we came back, we warmed up and she said she wanted to go to a little tavern. It was in Saint Joseph called “High’s Saloon” It was always Christmas ready all year round. Lights twinkled, trains huffed and puffed overhead, many pieces of memorabilia like TGI Fridays before they changed.

We walked through the snow, barely able to see and it was so cold.

On the way back she stopped and we did a bit of Christmas shopping at a small shop that had no other customers. Walking home we realized we had left our doggy bag with potato skins, nacho’s, my mouth was watering.

A few weeks later she presented me with  my gift. A life-size poster of Stevie Nicks. She knew I loved the “Nicks”

The Nicks Spin was what it was all about.

Stevie’s fashion sense became my own. It was part gypsy, medieval, gothic.

I loved flowing skirts, boots and hats. Still do.

This is all about the Spin Lady.

Gold Dust Woman

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W.W.W

Veiled Dreams


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I just woke up out of another intense dream. I went to the bathroom and noticed it was raining very hard, I could hear the sounds of it hitting the window pane.

The dream dissipated as soon as I awakened.

I used to pride myself on remembering my dreams. I could wake and write about the dream and the more I wrote the more I remembered.

That capability is gone.

I do dream, I still fly, but by the time I’m awake I can’t remember them. Lately all l  remember is how strange I feel. It feels like I am going in circles and discombobulated.  Usually I am very tired and thirsty. I used to have very vivid dreams and a strong memory of them. Now, The Dream leaves me feeling very confused, in a weird, happy or benevolent way.

No flashes, no bits and pieces that I can weave together.

I am beginning to think that my Dreams are like watching a new and exciting show on TV. One that has no conclusion, no follow-up or continuity.

Technicolor Fragments.

Visions of our innermost thoughts relentlessly at work while at rest. Night visions that are evidently not material to dwell on nor interpret, analyze, or decipher in the morning light.