Sweet Surrender

It doesn't mean much

It doesn't mean anything at all

The life I've left behind me is a cold room

I've crossed the last line

From where I can't return

Where every step I took in faith betrayed me

And led me from my home

 Sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

You take me in, no question's asked

You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me

(Who are you?)

Are you an angel?

Am I already that gone?

I only hope that I won't disappoint you

When I'm down here on my knees

(Who are you?)

And sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

(Who are you?)

And sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

And I don't understand

How the touch of your hand

I would be the one to fall

I miss the little things

I miss everything about you...

Doesn't mean much

It doesn't mean anything at all

The life I've left behind me is a cold room

(Who are you?)

And sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

(Who are you?)

And sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give.

Words and Music by Sarah McLachlan

https://play.spotify.com/user/126166462/playlist/45kmsnJrSL7lwqaR1ks3rW

*For you, my beloved

ATTENTION: All of my beloved readers and followers..
Please be one of the first supporters to fund a Broadway play. I am writing a play adapted for the stage from a Bruce Springsteen song he wrote and cut in the early 1970s. This is sort of a new way to fund art and all my beautiful, faithful readers, who have supported my work over the years will have the opportunity to perpetuate that art AND be a part of something huge.
Please follow the link and if you can't contribute, please pass on my information to your friends and beloveds.
I thank you so much for your support. As an artist, nothing else really matters!
Much love,
Deannalynn

http://www.gofundme.com/deannalynnarzola

"Thanks Derrick" A short story by Deannalynn Arzola

I guess in this world there are an infinite amount of things to be thankful for in ones life, as there are for me. I could go on for days, filling the pages with stories of all of the wonderful things I receive from the people in my life. Obviously, the things we are thankful for change throughout our journey, but somehow, along the way, we are able to find the people who seem to fill the exact thing we are grateful for at the specific time we need it. It's a little magic. Here's a short story about thankfulness...

Alexandra exited her car and ran into his arms as fast as she could.
"Oh, Derrick, god how I miss you!" Alex buried her head deeply into that place on Derrick's chest that seemed to be designed specifically for her head. He ran his fingers through her hair, stopping suddenly so as to grab a handful, pull her head back and kiss her. Life is trying, Alex thought, and this is my relief.

Alex and Derrick walked through the park, looking for a quiet place to lunch. The sun was low in the early spring sky, giving off a warm and blanketing comfort from its glow. A tall elm beckoned and the two settled in under the shade, a soft breeze just above them.

"Derrick, look at me." Derrick turned his head and gazed deeply into her eyes, as if to make sure, for both of them, that he would hang on every word.
"I wanna thank you for something. Thank you for letting me love you the way I do. Being in love you with you is my medicine and those times during the day that bring you to me, those little reminders in everything I do, those signs, they take me away from the insanity that surrounds me and they take me to a place I spend hours in my bed alone at night lost in my thoughts, memories, of you, but they do so during the day, like a daydream. Thank you for never making me feel crazy for needing to love you this way. Your understanding of my need to find that relief in you and your allowing me to express that to you with my words is sometimes all I have to distract me all during a crazy day."

Derrick took Alexandra's face in his hands and kissed her with passion and assurance.

An understanding between them, both of them agreeing, silently, to give one another what they need at this particular time in their lives. Alex thanked the gods for the circumstance that led to the meeting of their souls.

by Deannalynn Arzola

What if mortuary makeup were considered a death masque and that is why I cannot bear to look at masques in my present day life?

Hmmm...
Deannalynn Arzola

A Full Moon Eclipse on Easter Weekend

As I sit, thirty-thousand feet in the air, on the way to Las Vegas to see my wonderful little family, Portland in the "rear view mirror" I am reminded of both the blessings and the demons in my life; again, I find myself caught entre deux. My life seems to be as duplicitous as the people I surround myself with. 
Today is Good Friday. Honestly, as a spiritual person rather than a religious one, it doesn't mean a whole hell of allot to me, but, it is the day most of the world celebrates, if you will, the day Jesus was executed. What makes this a big deal for me is that two days later, he rose from the dead, which I kinda believe; I mean after all, that is one of the seven wonders. So I shall be respectful of this Christian practice we call Easter. 
Yesterday, in Portland, I stopped by briefly to visit my own spiritual adviser. It had been a terribly trying day and I needed some congregation of my own. She advised very strongly that under the full moon on Friday, I should let go of yesterday and all the baggage that is required of me to hold on to. She also said that on Saturday, I should specify my wishes to the Universe. Debbie is a smart goddess, which is why I went to see her after such a disposable week, so I did as she advised...
I let go of my baggage prior to bringing my literal baggage on the plane, praying intensely for the talent to bring forth this constitution I espouse in regards to letting go. Bye-bye, ya'll.
I wish for a job in which I can practice the altruism my empathetic nature craves. I pray to be surrounded by people who experience love that way that I experience love. I pray for the architecture of my knowledge, so that I may continue to see people as they really are. And I certainly pray for the strength to hold on to those I love, regardless, and let go of those I recognize to practice behaviour unworthy of my energy.
Within my wishes and my prayers, I am so grateful for the blessings I have. The things that I wish for are things I realize I am capable of materializing; that is a blessing in and of itself.
And now we land, in a valley that shines brighter than the full moon so pronounced in this desert sky. In a moment, I will receive my first blessing. I will be greeted by my daughter's husband; he is a son to me. And that will begin many more blessings to come, when I see my girl, my Joshua, my mini-Dee who is just now forming that personality that she will project for the rest of her life, when we sit, at three-thousand feet, in the desert, and meld together magic, faith and worship from all of the stories we have been told and all of the gods with whom we all have connected.
As I said, I am already gifted with my aforementioned wishes, and my family, well they are the people who surround me that experience love the way that I experience love.
We all make sacrifices in our lives. Jesus sacrificed his life for his words, which I can relate to. I would tell me story as loud as I could regardless of dire consequences threatened. The gods who came before us sacrificed their hearts and their beloveds and our Universe is a better place for it. We should all practice a little sacrifice, especially in the advocacy of our fellow cohabitants. We will always be rewarded for our doing so and those benefits seem so much larger than life. It's a beautiful thing.
Cheers to a delightful weekend...

-Deannalynn Arzola 

A Letter to Lolita by Deannalynn Arzola

Dear Lolita,

Your youth, my sweet,~
the softness of your skin, the curiosity in your eyes, the laughter in your voice; they are beautiful, but oh how they hide the wisdom in your soul, the love in your heart, the desire in your distinction.
 ~Truly, a wicked combination, drawing me in, like a fish on a hook...

                                                               HH
Words by Deannalynn Arzola, based on the book, "Lolita", by Vladimir Nabokov

"Force is nothing else than spiritual capacity, an invisible power that is created and implanted by accidental violence by sensible bodies in insensible ones, giving to these a semblance of life; and this life is marvelous in its workings, constraining and transforming in place and shape, all created things, running with fury to its own destruction, and producing different effects in its course as occasion requires."

-Leonardo da Vinci