Life is a journey. At what stride we choose to walk this journey is entirely up to the explorer. As a writer I’ve had my explorations through life and with this gift to gab about it, I invite you to walk with me.
Or, shall I say, STRUT!
With this opportunity to write an editorial for Parle magazine (a publication with exquisite taste might I compliment) I stumbled across an old dream of mine; to be a columnist. I dared to dream that my trail of life tangled in love misrepresented as sex, a chase of relationships dripped in the latest fashion would be brought to the forefront that only most witnessed through HBO during the Sex and the City era. This is no HBO series, this is real life. My life that I care to share and bring insight to those lost along their own journey as I have gotten lost even myself on several exploits; read and learn. Ever watch and wanted to turn the pages of your local newspaper to your own personal “Sex and the City” column? As much as you desire to read, I dream to write. Look no further…
First you must get to know, what you’re getting into here. This soon to be column, Strut, is a runway of life so to speak. One, with true self-confidence, does not just “get by” in life or simply walk down a path as if looking for lost change. We strut, head held high. Even with the mistakes made, I say where them like the latest Roberto Cavalli or vintage Valentino dress and strut through life without looking down toward your feet. Life is too short to second guess who you are or where you stand in it.
We all make mistakes in life, hopefully with my candid witty way of revealing those I have made we can both laugh and learn from them. Learning from another’s mistakes is the best way to be taught. If only I would have discovered this on my voyage. (Though, if I did I would have no content to write so our first lesson is to have no regrets for everything has a reason and a season like Fall, September issue, fashion) My motto is to “save the world one smile at a time”, as corny as it sounds, but most importantly as a writer, to save just one life an article at a time.
Strut with me:
A lover of music and rhythm became a passion for dance. A love for the art of expression through movement turned into an opportunity to learn amongst the great. I’m not a name dropper but I’ve been classically trained in dance with some of the best in the industry. But sometimes a journey reaches its heights when you’ve reached that height and feel nothing. It was time for the prima ballerina to turn in her toes shoes for a pair of stilettos. A dancer became a model. One should never anticipate that a statement so classy would, I’m sure most caught at first glance, become so…déclassé. I literally traded my toe shoes for stilettos. For, I soon found myself turning those once ever so classy runway walking stilettos into a pair with a clear platform.
Tchaikovsky was never played at Shangri-La. The Nutcracker Princess never stood a chance but instead became… “Stacey”. Now with all this creativity inside of me seductive mysterious names like Joslyn, Jade, Lysette, and… “I can barely remember” were better fit for the part but Stacey was a given name. In an industry more shallow than the façade of fashion everyone said I looked like Stacey Dash so it stuck… and that’s what they called me no matter how creative alternate names were. They called me Stacey every time. That’s funny… Stacey Dash. So many costumes were created to camouflage mE. Because after all I was more fit for the role of Sugar Plum Fairy than a “Joslyn” in the Champagne room. Light sensuous honey eyes, paid for, along with the lustrous wig and lavishly caked-on makeup… only to be pegged a look alike of the one celebrity everyday people and even those who know me personally compare me to… Stacey Dash. Oh, the irony. I guess I was “home” after all… the stage. The ballet, the stage at Symphony Hall became Shangri-La, a “gentlemen’s club” on stage with an ice cold pole to freeze a once warm heart.
Still I strut…
No matter where life takes you, you will always end up where you belong. I don’t regret nor forget my days as “Stacey” or care to relive them. Nor do I allow those to make me feel as if I should be ashamed of the path I chose. I must always remind my readers that everyone’s path is different. If your path is without judgment it shall be easier to walk along for little judgment will come your way, especially when it comes down to being judged by your creator, whomever you see as such.
As you strut with me, you will learn. You could be a lawyer, a doctor, a stripper, a housewife trying to find her purpose, a single mom or dad trying to figure out the opposite sex, or even a writer looking for a better view in this jungle; no matter how you identify yourself we can all learn from each other by simply sharing our expedition much like a travel guide… in stylish clothes of course.
This is just an introduction to what I will be doing for the rest of my life. This. Right here. Informal… incomplete sentences of precise eloquence. Run on sentences of passion to make you fall in love with not who I am, oh upon attempting to get to know me past my shy quiet disposition at times, you might not ever get to know me to fall for who I really am; but you will nonetheless fall in love with my words which I can contest are always from the heart. From the incomplete to the run-on, you will fall into something if it’s not love. These words of truth, wrapped in sensuality, dripped in seduction, and straight deep fried, coated in a batter of everything rugged and raw a feminine creature like me could ever be seasoned in, makes a tempting treat. As always, such a treat turns out to be rather irresistible… or so I’ve been told. As I blog daily to motivate on www.mghtepen.wordpress.com or intrigue you with controversy on www.sincerelyUnRandom.wordpress.com I aim to entice you to look for more where this came from on ParleMagazine.com (www.parlemagazine.com)
Now Strut along… ‘til next time!