Je Reviens

I will return.

I just thought of the name that could be Josette's journal.

The vintage fragrance.

How divine.

I decided there was no longer a need to be stubborn or retarded. Usually the best way to get what you want is to go to and ask directly. In this case I got about 80% of the way there. Like everything else nowadays, it's up in the air, but I feel really good that I affirmed something was important to me, that my feelings and wants mattered.

I think what I really learned through my dreams is that Josette was a doll, not a character contained in my mind, and I want the doll, that doll, and that's a real feeling. What I did and do now is crazy by some standards, but I am ready to live with that. This last week I felt something really supernatural and it kind of pushed me over the edge into certainty.

I was doing good this weekend until I thought of Je Reviens, and now I feel anxious.

A.S., thank you for the goodness you send. I appreciate your well wishes deeply.

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Fanchon

I can't believe it. It looks like the rusted gates to The Garden of Virtues are going to be laboriously parted by small articulated resin hands after all once more. I am glad that I am buying Lanie's Angel, but I am also a little sad. I remember disposing of Dresden along with my other dolls. I was in a vicious rage. I hesitated over Dresden's prone form, thinking, goodness, even I don't think of her as a BJD, is this really necessary? And then, blindly, cutting the strings. I can't believe I am actually talking about this now. I have not talked about it before. I regretted losing her afterward, because I did not really need to part with her. She was a sweet, special presence, a little woman. I have kept all of her eyes, wigs and clothes. Of course I will never forget the moments in which I divested all of my BJD's of their clothing, wigs and eyes. The other day Henry came around with a little velcro he had found and I grew faint, knowing that it had come fro...

Autumn approaches

The days are growing shorter. Gusts of wind blow away the last bits of red and golden leaves clinging to the trees. Ophelia walks through the garden, her heavy, curling blonde hair falling behind her suspended in a kerchief. In her arms is a basket of gourds. A hand snatches her from behind. She turns and meets a mirthful gaze. "Shelley!" She scowls unpleasantly. "Don't bother me." Ignoring her, he binds her hands, forcing her to drop her basket. The gourds roll around the hem of her threadbare skirt. "How quickly it's grown cold. Isn't it invigorating, this wind?" "Stop this nonsense. See what you've made me do? You'll have bruised squash for dinner." "My love, can't you stop a moment and look over the river? Look at the golden trees, touched with the very last bit of daylight. Have you ever noticed how they grow orange before it gets dark?" "I've never had a mind to look. And I am not 'your lo...

A Garden of Virtues

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Je Reviens

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