Wigs galore, J'adore!

Water wigs my friends. Who knew???

Beginnings

It was eight years ago you kissed me for the first time...

Out back behind your friend's townhouse,
on a patch of grass in the desert
we talked about life in small talk-- strip malls
and the never-ending tract housing
swallowing up Arizona's wide land.

A full white moon shined down
on our young faces.
Your hands were in your jeans pockets
as we stared up into the basin of light.

You stood close to me...
and then lowered your head
became silent.

You looked straight at me
the wind tossed about the curls of your brown hair,
you waited for my eyes to meet yours

And then you kissed me.

It was not a kiss of passion,
nor sexuality. It was delicate, like you...
You did not move your hands on my body,
you restrained.

A humble, gentle man before me...
fumbling to figure out what to do

Such sweetness in your confusion.

Years later we have met and wandered into each other's bodies.
But your kisses now are hungry,
and you gesture with wild hands,

I must share my gift with the world-- my music
This is why I am here. 

Where is your soft voice, my old friend--
the uncertainty in your fingers?

Where are those confused hands--
as I once taught you how to please me?

The Heart Leads

The Heart leads and responds before the brain responds... this is scientifically proven, but do we really need science to prove this? We have always known it, but lately it confuses me and causes me pain. It's ALIVE, this heart of mine.

It is awake and making me question everything I am (who I thought I was), who I love, what I'm here for? How come I love someone and reject him all at the same time?

My heart beats frenetically these days, because I am lonely, and miss my lover. I'm haunted by him, and his calm way of saying, this distance is ok.

Here I tell you, you are inside of me. Inside my heart, beating hard and fast.

I miss you my darling. My magical music man.

Images found on visualizeus.com, no artists mentioned

This Vision

It could be an memory
or an image in my head

of you bending underneath the olive tree
wearing a tea length green dress
your hair pinned up in curls...

You are stunning,
as you pick up the half eaten fruit
tossing their pits into a metal bin beside you.

Here you are the mother I adore
you tend to your garden, clean our rooms with your strong bare hands
You keep a rag nearby, and wipe the sweat from your face.

After this you cook us dinner,
serve your husband with the grace only a woman can serve
--as he steps out on you in the evenings
To meet some blonde who laughs at his dirty jokes,
and tugs on his shirts in cheap bars.

He cannot shake you.
You are impervious as the desert to the rain.
You wake in the mornings and put on your fine wool
and earrings.
You step into your heels, that is all.

But what of this?
Years later
after a divorce and a new home in the suburbs--
No garden,
no more dresses or home cooked meals.

Put on your lipstick again, pin up your hair...
My mother of confidence,
my mother of superb strength.

Not for show,
but because you believe he didn't break you.

Because he didn't.

Orchids

Here you are
you sit and enjoy your third cup of coffee
I on my second...

We fight our tired bodies--
the mere five hours of sleep.

Because we only have five days
and you tell me you must take me to La Fournil
so we can have French coffee and fig pastries...

and we must walk Seattle while it is warm and the sun is out
over the water.

It has been 7 years since we have done this;
looked into each other's eyes over coffee
talked after a night of lovemaking.

Your body is so new to me... thin
yet strong.

In bed, you pushed into me with the force of an animal
You were starved
You took no pity.

We had each become, man and woman
and our manic need for sex and intimacy
flashed in neon.

You are still tender, now
as you discuss your love of orchids
They hang by clothespins on strings from your ceiling...

They rarely bloom,
you tell me,  that is why I love them.

You have to wait for that moment,
after months of watering and waiting,
and then they blossom...

Their flowers detailed as origami
delicate as love resurrected.

And here I am,
in your city
for an unexpected visit.

I take my time to talk to you
my heartbeat is rapid,
my body electric.

I feel this new pull to you
for your body, for you inside me with intensity...

But I am not ready.
And what does all of this mean?

You continue to tend to the orchids,
place each one between your precise fingers.

I want this kind of love--
patient and unassuming.

Can we do that? Can we slow it down?
Can I bloom for you another day?

The Painting

Today there are waves of you
in and out, like love
our friendship in the shape of a rose.

I am unsure of how to keep you close--
how to love you, not in black and white
but in pastels...

A watercolor that is of a still pond,
an impressionistic painting--
waterlilies perhaps

or flowers that have no names.

No matter the image, there is surely light...
white and penetrating;
your love for me,

delicate and hopeful.

For now not even a whisper...

Just a friendship fragile as silk.

And there is beauty in that, my dear friend.
There is beauty in not knowing what the painting says.

Outside the Lines

This month has been a wreck- my anxiety attacks have taken over, and a dear lover from my past has come back into my life. At first I was excited to visit him in Seattle, and was overwhelmed by his new, more manly appearance (it had been 6 years!) He had gained a confidence he didn't have before, which was totally sexy as well. But as our time time went on in Seattle, I started to have doubts and get scared... what did all of this mean? And could we work again...?  I broke it off the first time for a lack of sexual connection and his obsession with making it in the music world. The sexual chemistry was there this time, no doubt, but the music thing haunted me. I've been tortured since I came back home, asking myself how can I make this work? Is it possible...? Can I deal with dating a musician? And I think- sadly- my answer is no. So I am bracing myself for the fall, and I fear where it will take me. Can I seriously work with someone? Anyone? I am waiting for the heartbreak to set in... and the doubt that plagues me... Why do I fall so fast and so hard?

Places

I want to hold you in my arms, and yet

you are in Seattle

Playing your guitar late

into the night

gesturing with wide hands

and big teeth,

“It’s time to make it big!”

How I loathe your music.

When we ran around the golf course

Years ago

high on coffee and marijuana

We would laugh about our newfound music,

You on the guitar,

Me the lyricist and singer- 

a “Frenchie” vibrato.

It didn’t matter then,

That music was your sky,

It was your painted mountain in the distant,

Something to climb

and to conquer.

You’d tell me,

“We have big skies Lara,

We are meant for greatness”

And I agreed, without hesitation.

And now,

On my porch alone,

I crave a simpler life.

To love you inside my sheets,

 and over a cup of coffee in the morning.

To talk about art, and food,

and who is making it big now…

 Is it talent

Or the machine of man, pumping out

“The new voice," or the

“incredible actor?"

Instead you reach for your guitar

Move your hands up

and down the fret board,

That long, thin neck...

If I only had someone to lie in a hammock with today...

Treading

Right now I am treading in strange water... trying to find my breath. Which way is up? I normally know this.  Sorrow today is in all capital letters and the weight of living is almost too much to bear.

I hope I can find my way out, or through...

{breathe}

Musings

The world is still today, and inside are fantasies of giant friends and homemade art projects. Random. Eccentric... childlike wonder.

 

Images top to bottom: Message to Bears cover, Berries: Andrea Fleischer, The Beasts Upon us: Unknown author

Rebirth

I am inspired so much right now by Forest Swords' album Engravings. This video is absolutely gorgeous to me. I love the contrast between the urban landscape and a nearly nude, organic body. To me it a video about re-birth and the struggle to find one's way. Ultimately our 'everyman' lands on both two feet, but it is the process that is most interesting. I feel like I am going through a huge life transition right now, and this video is such a symbol of the hard process of climbing out of the dark, safe womb, into a new, self-defining place.

Happy Easter!

It's been over a year... been working on other projects aside from blogging. But Easter is here and I'm inspired by pastel eggs and a farmhouse set table. Girls in ruffly Easter dresses, and of course gorgeous flowers.

Happy egg hunting, flower picking, brunch eating, and relaxing!

Musings

It is a New Year and all things are fresh and renewed...

It is my favorite time of year... delicate and promising.

 

 

 

 Here's to a year of growth, beauty, happiness, forgiveness, new chances, and of course... spending time by the sea:)

Happy New Year!!

Whatever you do tonight, make it fun!!

Happy New Year!

Eternity

Inspired by Blaise Voita... A child who died too soon, but now rests in Heaven.
Here's to you Blaise, up there with the angels...

{click on title, it will take you to Youtube where you can view this full screen- this film sequence is amazing fullscreen}

Makana- Deep in an Ancient Hawaiian Forest- Live

 I Heart Hawaiian music, and this man's guitar work is phenomenal.... listen while you view my Hawaiian slideshow
Mahalo
-lara

Hawai'i~ Ku'u pu'uwai'oe~ You are my Heart

My Photos of Hawaii- June 2012....
How I miss you Hawai'i.... xoxo

The slideshow starts right when you click on my blog so in order to see the whole thing, refresh, and then scroll down to the slideshow immediately.

http://s98.beta.photobucket.com/user/lgcoscia/story/4329
Click on link to view full album... for some reason it only plays about 3/4 of the photos....?? Resolution in some photos is not great, not sure why. Saving my pennies for a new camera, can't wait.

Opens My Heart...

This song, and this artist breaks open my heart... Patrick Watson is one of new favorite artists.

Good Morning World

I woke up this morning with a feeling of peace... Thinking of the ocean my friends...
Good morning

Musing

I love you Pablo...

David

Reluctant, are your lips
as I kiss them late in the evening
Your breath is deep and long--

The stars burn away
their only lives.

I miss you,
and want you,
as we listen to Bon Iver and Sigur Ros

the music we used to make love to.

I can picture you behind your camera
during a shoot,

a young, willing girl in front of you
Her dress pulled down to the nipple.

You position yourself on your knees
as she pulls her dress up,
Here is the perfect curve of her thigh and backside...

the sacred arch of her foot, the line of her calf.

I once had this ability--
to capture you through my nudity, by staring into your eyes
and saying nothing.

My shiny young hips flashing.

If I could be your perfection
I would.

I would wrap you in blankets on cold nights
make love to you for hours while you nudge me away
... your sleepiness.

If I knew I could make us work
I would do everything for you.
You know this by now.

Don't forget me...
how I danced for you
in the parking lot by the tall fountain,

and naked on your living room floor.

Make love to me again,
In the quiet of your room
or under a wide moon when I up and move to Hawaii.

I will name the sky after you,
or perhaps all the trees and the stones....

But does it matter?
All I want to say is,

I love you.

Bon Iver - Holocene (Official Music Video)

Monsters

I feel so defeated today. You'll think I'm crazy for feeling this way, but my ex, whom I broke up with, has found love, and now I am no longer the one he wants. I tried for five years to make it work... I love him so much it hurts... but it just never did. And last night I kissed him and cried in his arms, and sang to him while he fell asleep and wished I could have him back. Wished I could make it work.

I feel like a monster, and I just want to tear everything, including myself, into pieces.

I know you'll never read this love, because you've moved on, as you should....

I feel so ugly

We Will Live Forever...

To my everlasting Love... You know who You are.

One of THE most beautiful films and scores in years, The Fountain by Clint Mansell
Film by Darren Aronofsky.

Ice Art

I have always loved ephemeral art made in nature, and I recently discovered Jim Denevan and his most recent work created on Lake Baikal in Siberia. He and his small team (including a documentarian and photographer) set off to the largest lake in the world to create a vast Fibonacci spiral of concentric circles, making the largest piece of artwork yet created on land. Amazingly they used only large brooms to make the circles, revealing beautiful geometric ice below.

To my surprise, the store Anthropologie commissioned Jim to do artwork for them, and that is where I found (and purchased) the book, Lake Baikal. For once I can say that now I don't feel as guilty for purchasing things there... they commission tons of artists, and so I tip my hat.

To see more visit: http://theanthropologist.net/#/JimDenevan

It's All a Circus...

I'm sad these days...

Water

What I know of water is this--

You are my lover

wrapping your large hands around me

You are deep--

cold,

You take no pity.

Pull me into your belly

It is this lovemaking I want:
something wreckless
I don't break so easy.

Pull me down,

into your undertow
tangle me inside your salty roots.

Then push me up toward that perfect blue sky
Save me.

your soft liquid orgasm.

city of desire, Eric Zener

Wind and Fields

June heat wraps its thick tongue 'round our shoulders, and

nearer to the thick of summer we come,

our heated souls wandering.

Fields are for love-

and for flowers

and wind comes in and reminds us

all things tamed are really not so. Undo the latch,

pretty flowers

let the wind take you too,

as a good lover should.

Moods

Lately I am in love with all things Moroccan... the open airiness of large rooms and intricate details. Textiles, metal, color. Such an old world mystery in the modern world.

I love the organic feel of this room, with a tree growing indoors...

Simple, yet rich

Old world magic...


Unknown, moroccan bathroom, staircase

Cinnamon

***

Cinnamon is in your blood,

like a hint of madness, turned

sexy.

Do you remember the time we drove passed

the red rocks and into the trees--

loving you

was all I needed

And hints of you now,

in the sheets

on the back patio- wind

and your name

inside

my tongue

forever.

-Lara Coscia


Mystic Morocco, time on your side, forecast

Let's Be Free

I am in divine holy wonderment of Free People's current flowy and bohemian gypsy fashion. Please Mr. Easter Bunny, leave me a crocheted summer dress for Easter...

{Strawberries...}

{Peruvian Star}

{One Stargazer Lily}

Let's be free together...

check out Free People's new line

To my Beloved

{Poem to Myself on Valentine's Day}

I must admit it was a surprise, I never expected it to be you--

and yet time's passed-- some have come and gone

but here you are, yes you.

And so I declare, I will love you with truth,

and in times of changing too

for you are the most important love,

never alone, no

rather anew.

Let your hair down and get wild! Even if alone in the kitchen with some rose petals and a vintage dress just for you...

Write yourself a love poem, will you?

A Fairy in My Kitchen, Murat Sayginer

Masquerade Please

Here is my idea for a wonderful Valentine's weekend- to host a masqerade ball in an old dilapidated castle, with winding staircases and candle lit halls. To escape in the splendor of the old world, with grand lavish dresses and secret passageways...

Think of me...

Think of me fondly...



Behind the Mask, FormFunction, Tim Walker

Blowing in the New Year

Wind

Like wind, sometimes we are blown into the direction of sorrow-

loss perhaps,

or sickness.

But a new year and a new wind,

perhaps a shade of pink.

Return to me

my lover

usher me into the sunlight

and the brush

Let my story come from here--

from this place of living.







Rodney Smith, Rosie Hardy

Stay tuned for more posts this year...
xoxox