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Family of Origin
Betrayal of self: Who do you trust?
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 674563" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Yes. Exactly. And her lips, her mouth. I have already been on EBAY for hours last night looking for glasses like that. The two parts of the face that communicate and sense. And her makeup is perfection. Everything. You are left with the sense of perfection, of aged to perfection.</p><p></p><p>Also her hair. She has a terrific cut. I saw other pictures of her where she just looks like an old lady. The hair was not right there. Here it is perfect. Mine looks great in this cut, too. </p><p></p><p>She was a textile designer. Had a company with her husband. Quite successful. They were involved in redecorating the White House for many presidents.</p><p></p><p>And when she was 83 she was discovered. And it was all uphill from there. She was invited to teach fashion design to university students in Texas and became a professor there. She has written books. There was a big museum installation that celebrated her wardrobe. And a masterful documentary maker, I forget his name, made a movie about her: Iris. She is merchandising products, shoes, jewelry, eyeglasses, to her style and in her name. All after 83.</p><p></p><p>At 93 she says she has all kinds of projects in the fire. </p><p>Oh no, Cedar. Look at Iris. She would not be who she is without her face. All of it. When we are old we should look old. </p><p></p><p>Look at Madonna now, Cedar. She was beautiful. Now she is not.</p><p></p><p>You are beautiful, Cedar.</p><p></p><p> Yes. A good point.</p><p></p><p>You have not Cedar. You will not.</p><p>Yes. It very much is.</p><p></p><p>To watch it being destroyed before our very eyes. To be taken over and dirtied. And be able to do nothing. To have words of the heart, drowned out by bronx cheers. And then when silenced, to feel alone. Bereft. And confused.</p><p>Well, this is very fascinating to me. And complex. Yes. There is weakness and a sense of inferiority in them, at the beginning. A weakness that we cover for. An inferiority in them we refuse to accept. We see the signs. They are unavoidable. But we refuse to see them as such. Because we fear our own power and refuse to own our gifts, and perhaps, even superiority. We put our lights in a basket. </p><p></p><p>For what? Fear that attention will bring more harm? Fear of more predation from them, to bring on more hurt?</p><p></p><p>Why did we, do we buy the "party line," the bill of goods, when we know better and knew better? It is willful self-deception. And silencing.</p><p>But the thing is, all we have is faith. We have to have faith. In ourselves. There has to be the belief that we can prevail in ourselves. In the face of evil. We must hold ourselves in faith. In nothing more than ourselves. Because that is all there really is. If you look at it existentially.</p><p>I disagree. My grandmother used to say, where there is life, breath, there is hope.</p><p></p><p>I believe my mother lived heroically in her last days. She never had before. I believe there is great ugliness in our stories. But I believe our stories are heroic and we are heroic. Every hero needs his battles. To prove her true heart.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 674563, member: 18958"] Yes. Exactly. And her lips, her mouth. I have already been on EBAY for hours last night looking for glasses like that. The two parts of the face that communicate and sense. And her makeup is perfection. Everything. You are left with the sense of perfection, of aged to perfection. Also her hair. She has a terrific cut. I saw other pictures of her where she just looks like an old lady. The hair was not right there. Here it is perfect. Mine looks great in this cut, too. She was a textile designer. Had a company with her husband. Quite successful. They were involved in redecorating the White House for many presidents. And when she was 83 she was discovered. And it was all uphill from there. She was invited to teach fashion design to university students in Texas and became a professor there. She has written books. There was a big museum installation that celebrated her wardrobe. And a masterful documentary maker, I forget his name, made a movie about her: Iris. She is merchandising products, shoes, jewelry, eyeglasses, to her style and in her name. All after 83. At 93 she says she has all kinds of projects in the fire. Oh no, Cedar. Look at Iris. She would not be who she is without her face. All of it. When we are old we should look old. Look at Madonna now, Cedar. She was beautiful. Now she is not. You are beautiful, Cedar. Yes. A good point. You have not Cedar. You will not. Yes. It very much is. To watch it being destroyed before our very eyes. To be taken over and dirtied. And be able to do nothing. To have words of the heart, drowned out by bronx cheers. And then when silenced, to feel alone. Bereft. And confused. Well, this is very fascinating to me. And complex. Yes. There is weakness and a sense of inferiority in them, at the beginning. A weakness that we cover for. An inferiority in them we refuse to accept. We see the signs. They are unavoidable. But we refuse to see them as such. Because we fear our own power and refuse to own our gifts, and perhaps, even superiority. We put our lights in a basket. For what? Fear that attention will bring more harm? Fear of more predation from them, to bring on more hurt? Why did we, do we buy the "party line," the bill of goods, when we know better and knew better? It is willful self-deception. And silencing. But the thing is, all we have is faith. We have to have faith. In ourselves. There has to be the belief that we can prevail in ourselves. In the face of evil. We must hold ourselves in faith. In nothing more than ourselves. Because that is all there really is. If you look at it existentially. I disagree. My grandmother used to say, where there is life, breath, there is hope. I believe my mother lived heroically in her last days. She never had before. I believe there is great ugliness in our stories. But I believe our stories are heroic and we are heroic. Every hero needs his battles. To prove her true heart. COPA [/QUOTE]
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