TRUST & TRAGEDY


20171105_135055Flushed from frolicking in Taos, with a man I’ve just met. He’s salt of the earth, strapped with degrees, awards, and maverick adventures as a wrestler, a horseman, ski instructor, rafting guide, and something else I can’t recall. An Irish and Scottish face, blue-black hair and unblinking blue eyes that have a life of their own. My smile returned, in response to his teasing, and playful  sonnets on sex. We talked breathlessly, responding almost without thinking, the words hopscotched over our private, complicated, infuriating personal lives. His motives unclear, as are mine.

Doused in his manliness, aroused my womanliness until I returned to my bedroom, turned on the news and watched the report on the Texas Chapel massacre  My heart descended, it felt like the climax of all the recent massacres exploding in that church. The clues are examined, the crime scene is sealed off,  the investigation launched, but what are we really seeking? Some motive to reveal itself; gun control, mental illness, terrorism, political attack, family revenge? Once discovered then the news fades into another catastrophe. What can we do? What is happening to young men who have been expelled from society,  taken to violence, and are willing to die.

 

 

 

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Adventures in Singleness


I’ve never been a woman who dated.  There is too much pretense and preparation. My preference is  to just meet him by circumstance, become friends for at least a few weeks, and then either we are inseparable or separate.  Dates are like the holidays, a whoosh of expectation. Had my attitude been more flexible and my social presence more waggish, I could have met more men. They don’t have to be long-term commitments, or marriage, just friends.

The freedom of traveling solo was the prong of my selfishness in my thirties, not anymore. As the curtain drops  on romanticism of solo adventure, it’s really second place to romancing with a partner.

Singleness after several years is feeling the chill , envy of couples embracing in laughter,  staring into a wedding party as if it was a fairytale, dining alone with the TV,  laptop, or music as my audience, but worse of all is wearing the wicked blue robe!  The one that feels like a blanket and looks like it should be thrown out.

The actuality of my detachment from a relationship, is posted everywhere and it is neon bright in my head.  When this singleness sinks my spirit, I take a bath.  Women you know, if you drop down and eliminate, the room that may  not be as you please, or a phone call, text, beep, and  soak out everything, it is bliss.

Freedom is the bait and the blessing. I  can do, go, think, act, without argument or alarm.  I have always been more observer than joiner. Even in High School, in a gang of ten  gals and guys I continually turned down invitations, or bowed out at the last-minute.

If you are a dreamer like me;  youth doesn’t end,  people don’t end, ambitions and passions still erupt and the blood in my veins boils to reinvent, redecorate, and relocate. All of those choices are upon me.

FIRST WEEK058

Taos 2007

 

 

SINGLES


All of them.  I mean all ages, classes, genders, and sexes.  Single people must  be brave; they do not have a partner to hold on to when THE LIGHTS GO OUT.   The eye of the United States Government knows  we are single.  Why are we not included in your speeches, legislation, and laws?330px-WLANL_-_MicheleLovesArt_-_Museum_Boijmans_Van_Beuningen_-_Eva_na_de_zondeval,_Rodin?

COME IN. DOORS OPEN


        My stories stem from the inner voice where all the gaps of expression are liberated.

As a child reared under the MAFIA CODE OF SILENCE, speaking was too terrifying. My diary became the root of my expression. So I write!

I’m self-taught so if you notice my syntax off you know why.  My pen moves from Creative Nonfiction to poetry. Column writing is how I began; I love the 2000 word lifestyle story that rises from adventuress in livingness.  

This year (after a seventeen-year crawl) I’ve finished a memoir:  “CRADLE OF CRIME.”

 THANK YOU FOR VISITING.

Luellen Smiley is a creative Nonfiction writer and award-winning newspaper columnist who writes a bi-monthly column “Odyssey of Love” and has been a regular contributor to MORE Magazine. Her “Growing Up With Gangsters” stories appeared in the New York Post and in Southern California.
Luellen has completed a memoir  based on her life as the daughter of Hollywood racketeer,  Allen Smiley, Benjamin Siegel’s partner and best friend. Her extensive research the past twenty-five years led to numerous TV and Radio interviews regarding her discovery and breaking the silence.