mia loves henry miller – Letter 33 – Heat and Mischief in NYC with Mr. B

mia loves henry miller

Letter 33 – Heat and Mischief in NYC with Mr. B

1/30/12 10:25 a.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

“New York is cold, glittering, malign.  The buildings dominate.  There is a sort of atomic frenzy to the activity going on; the more furious the pace, the more diminished the spirit.  A constant ferment, but it might just be as well be going on in a test tube.  Nobody knows what it’s all about.  Nobody directs the energy.  Stupendous. Bizarre. Baffling.  A tremendous reactive urge, but absolutely uncoordinated.” –Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

During the first few months, after Mr. B and I met, we took so many trips to NYC in a short amount of time.  It’s difficult to remember what events happened in precise sequence during each visit, because it all kind of blurs together.  The first trip we took to NYC was in mid to late April or possibly early May, almost six years ago.  The spring weather was gorgeous!  I love New York City in the spring time.

We flew again to NYC sometime in July.  Mr. B was getting ready to publish his second book.  He had some business that he needed to take care of.  It was so fucking hot!  NYC was on the verge of a black out.  The classic song, Steam Heat, kept playing in my head.  The Manhattan generators were working overtime to keep everyone cool.  The streets smelled like rotting garbage and melting, hot tar.  Chinatown smelled like spoiled fish and chicken.  The sidewalks were wet from small puddles of spilt coconut water.  The heat from the vendor carts projected even more heat as you walked past, clouds of billowing smoke from the food on the grill, stole your breath away.  The homeless looked defeated, slumped up against a building, hoping for some money to purchase something to cold to drink.  The subways were stifling hot and miserable due to the air conditioning going out in some of the subway trains. Continue reading

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mia loves henry miller – Letter 32 – To Love or Hate Him? Henry Miller, 50 Year Anniversary of Tropic of Cancer

mia loves henry miller

Letter 32 – To Love or Hate Him? Henry Miller, 50 Year Anniversary of Tropic of Cancer

1/29/12 – 2:06 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

“I’m not a saint, and probably never will be one. Though it occurs to me, as I make this assertion, that I have been called that more than once, and by individuals whom the court would never suspect capable of holding such an opinion. No, I’m not a saint, thank heavens! Nor even a propagandist of a new order. I am simply a man, a man born to write, who has taken as his theme the story of his life. A man who has made it clear, in the telling, that it was a good life, a rich life, a merry life, despite the ups and downs, despite the barriers and obstacles (many of his own making), despite the handicaps imposed by stupid codes and conventions, Indeed, I hope that I have made more than clear, because whatever I may say about my own life which is only a life, is merely a means of talking about life itself, and what I have tried, desperately sometimes, to make clear is this, that I look upon life as good, good no matter on what terms, that I believe it is we who make it unlivable, we, not the gods, not fate, not circumstances.” –Letter from Henry Miller to Trygve Hirsch

I have been doing some research on the internet regarding stories, blogs, and newspaper columns which have been written about you – especially the recent story published by the New York Times.  There’s been some press due to your 50 year anniversary of Tropic of Cancer.  Some people love you and some people hate you.  Some people love your writing and some people can’t stand it – especially many strong, opinionated, female activists.  I must admit, there are some of your books, I really don’t get sucked into, and then there are other books of yours which completely mesmerize me.

What I find so fucked up about critics or journalists trashing you in present time for something you daringly wrote many years ago, is that today, every movie, television show; magazine ad is full of sex or violence.  Everyone is pushing the limits, daring to go to the extreme.  Everything in our society is so laced with violence and sexuality.  I think people need to quit being so judgmental and hypocritical.  Sex is an amazing gift.  We find it more accepting to show murder and killing and beatings in our media than we do sex.  Sexuality is a beautiful thing and people need to quit being so damn uptight about it, as well as hypocritical.  We would not be born into this world without smut, sex, passion, love, heat and kink!  Our sexuality is a large drama of our lives.  Why do we try to hide and deny something that is so natural and good?  I don’t see the animal kingdom feeling shame for their acts of procreation.  Unless you are harming someone against their will sexually, it should not be looked upon as such a forbidden subject in the 20th century. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 31 – Cher, Burlesque and Thin Air

mia loves henry miller

Letter 31 – Cher, Burlesque and Thin Air

“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” —George Bernard Shaw

mia loves henry miller

Letter 31 – Cher, Burlesque and Thin Air

HipHopMiaburleque01

I’m writing this letter on 1/28/12 at 7:12 p.m.

Dear Henry,

“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” –George Bernard Shaw

It’s the day after my birthday.  I feel sick, fever, chills and puking much of the day, and it’s not because I partied hard last night. I think I’m coming down with the flu and became over exhausted by doing so much to get ready to have a small get together at my loft last night.  I had a few family members, good friends and performers from the burlesque troupe over for dinner and cake at the loft.  I made a slow cooked roast beef, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy.  It was nice to celebrate with a small group of friends and loved ones.  But from now on – NO MORE PARTIES! NO MORE BIRTHDAYS! Both are over rated. I think that the only thing I like about having a birthday is reading all the birthday wishes from friends from all over the world, posted on my Facebook page.  I had so many Happy Birthday comments that it’s been hard to reply with a thank you to every birthday wish posted.

Are you aware Henry – that I was born on Mozart’s B-day, January 27.  I cannot play a musical instrument.  However, my computer keyboard is much like a piano to me.  I type fast and passionately when I write.  My fingers fly over the keyboards rapidly as if I were playing a great composition.  I adore the delicious sounds that my long, painted fingernails make when they are striking my keyboard.  It makes a rapid, click – clacking noise that is much like music to my ears and soul.  Sometimes, late at night, when I cannot sleep, I hear cadences and words obsessively playing in my mind, as if it were hypnotic notes of music.  It haunts me and will not stop until I compose a piece of poetry.

Phantom in My Soul

He comes in the night

On a beam of moonlight

He wakes me from my dreams

 

Surprised when he comes

At a quarter past one

Yet, I don’t even scream

 

He sings in my mind

Words laced with rhyme

He’s always there

Muse:  Sweet Poetess I’ve come

My poem’s just begun

I’m the spirit you breathe in the air

 

He speaks in my mind

Passionate rhyme

Spun from ancient lore

 

In visions we dine

Have a wonderful time

As we dance on Heaven’s floor

 

I feel when he’s near

Without pain or fear

I succumb to him

Muse:  Sweet Poetess your mine

My servant to rhyme

Submit to the phantom within

 

The more he whispers to me

His poetry

He draws me near

 

And when he chimes

Sweet rhythm and rhyme

His words are clear

 

Seduced by a voice

Without any choice

I listen to the phantom who speaks in my soul

Muse: You can’t escape my spell

To the Poetess I tell

My gift’s a bottomless hole

 

When he’s in my mind

He takes me beyond space and time

Into dimensions unknown

 

 

And then in that world

Emotions and poetry swirl

And somehow I’ve grown

 

But sometimes I cry

Because I’ve said goodbye

When I needed a break from my muse

 

Yet, what have I done?

He was the one

I didn’t want to lose

 

When he whispers no sound

I look all around

I miss him so much

 

I crave for his rhyme

Words so sublime

I yearn for his touch

 

Then he calls to me

With his poetry

Out of the blue

Muse:  Sweet poet of mine

Don’t shut me out of your mind

You need me as much as I need you

Soul: I’ve missed your words

And your poetry world

Please come back to me

 

Without you near

I don’t want to be here

Its misery

 

I feel so lost

At night turn and toss

I’ve missed you so much

Muse: Sweet Poetess of mine

You’re addicted to rhyme

 

Then deeply in my soul I felt his touch.- Mia

Burlesque (film)

Burlesque (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have less than one week before the production of our next burlesque show.  I feel anxiety as normal, wondering how I’m going to make the budget to pay for the show, hoping for a large enough audience, and that all my promotional work pays off.  I often wish that reality was like Hollywood movies, and that money would come from thin air and save my show.   I’ve been working hard, trying to finish enough letters written to you, to be able to publish this book, Mia Loves Henry Miller, Book Number One – Mysteries and Journeys, so that I can sell them at shows and other places online, book stores, adult toy Stores, boutiques, etc.  I’m anticipating publishing this provocative book, after I have written 50 letters to you, Henry.  I’m determined to make an abundance of money in my future with my writing my art and my burlesque show.  I deserve it!

 I’m going to remain hopeful that luck is on my side and a miracle will appear much like it did for Cher in the movie, Burlesque, so that I can continue on with my dream, producing this astounding show.  However, if it does not pan out within a year, I’m afraid that I will have to possibly cease things.  I have been doing this over almost twelve years.  It costs me and my husband all of our savings to invest in performers, advertising, costumes, props, etc.  I sacrifice having a car, new clothes, new furniture, just to keep this show going, and I often wonder if I’m spinning my wheels in slick, wet mud.  I have to believe that with my determination and tenacity, that everything will work out.  I wish money would come from thin air like it did for Cher!  It seems like such a Hollywood fantasy.  I’m mostly an optimistic person. I’d like to believe the dreams really do come true.

 henry (1)

I started this show so I could use my creative license with music that I find passionate and inspiring, as well as use my creative license with my artistic, neo-style in my burlesque numbers.  I remember how much easier it was to just show up for a burlesque show, which someone else was producing, as a performer, and just do what I love to do on stage, without the work – administration, show and drama stuff.  But, then, I was stuck having to use music that did not inspire me, or perform in a style that the producer desired, and I did not.  I am a free spirit and I cannot change that.  Now, I’m so busy putting the show together that I hardly have the time to rehearse my own burlesque numbers.  I’m lucky if I can get enough time to rehearse my magic to perform with The Illusionettes.

Nikkiandherbigpole

“Nikki: I will not be upstaged by some slut with mutant lungs” –Movie, Burlesque

The task of running a show of this quality and size seems so overwhelming. Between booking acts, keeping the performers drama free during a show, and promoting and organizing the show, I may have lost the fun of performing.  I wish that I had someone to guide me, to tell me if I should continue to move forward or to cease it before I’m further in debt and another year older.  But, I’m afraid that if I quit now, there is no coming back.  I would lose all that I have worked for.  I could also be quitting right before turning the corner to financial success.

“A mother’s love is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking, it never fails or falters, even though the heart is breaking.” –Helen Steiner Rice

Being the Matriarch of a burlesque troupe is often like being the mother of a large family.  It is often a thankless job.  I have to make difficult decisions that not everyone will like.  I have to make sure that I have the financial budget to support the show.  I have to remain strong, so that I can keep the order of the troupe, keep drama to a low level, and protect what I’ have built.  I have to do all the promotional work, because I have not found anyone that I can trust enough to follow through with the large task of promoting a show well.  At this point it seems easier for me to do it, than continuously nag the person I asked to do it. I also have to come up with a large budget to pay for performers, yet, I don’t receive any kind of pay for my efforts.  My performers always come first.  Instead of putting myself at the top of the pay list, I sacrifice my pay so another performer can have it and the opportunity to be showcased onstage.  Maybe that sounds fucked up, but I believe in treating my performers fairly.  I feel that if they work for me, they deserve to be paid for their time and talent.

 MiaBurlesquedress1 (2)

“Sean: [talking about the money Tess needs to save the club] It’s just money. It’s just a number.

Tess: I know, but… do you think I could do it?

[Sean shakes his head]

Tess: Tell me a lie.

Sean: I need your expert sewing skills.

Tess: Tell me a *new* lie.

Sean: I don’t love you.” – Movie, Burlesque

It’s been a long time since I’ve financially gained from producing a show.  What’s even more frustrating is that I have been loyal to the nightclub that we perform at for many years, devoting my blood, sweat, passion and tears as a Bondage A-Go-Go Dancer.  This club has a large stage, a decent dressing room, and the ability to get away with stripping down to pasties, without the city of Minneapolis freaking out.  What’s a bitch is that I only get $3 dollars per person at the door. That is hardly enough to pay for a small core troupe of performers.  I have to pay for my stage production staff, advertising, and guest performers out of my personal budget.  I honestly do not know how much longer I can personally finance this burlesque show.  However, this night club’s stage is legendary and it is where my heart leads me.  It has everything that I require, including a consistent, monthly gig, which is important.  It’s where Mr. C and I have called home for more than a decade.  Even when I try to escape Ground Zero, it keeps calling me back.  I expect that before I give up, that I will come to some kind of agreement with the venue in regards to pay.  If not, I will have to say goodbye to a passionate love.  I really don’t want to say au revoir.

“People love burlesque today because it incorporates all the old-school glamour, satire and highlights the female form — it’s something that many women can actually see themselves doing.” –Baby Doe

What is a shame is that we have so many talented burlesque troupes in the Twin Cities, yet there are not enough venues that have the ability to support our art form with the appropriate city licenses, or a theater available who does not charge us a lot for rent on a Friday or Saturday night.  I can’t believe that someone with the financial backing has not come along to build or renovate a burlesque venue to support all of us.  Minneapolis has some amazing variety and burlesque talent with a huge, burlesque history.  It’s a shame that we all struggle to make it, doing something that we love to do.

“Keep your dreams alive. Understand to achieve anything requires faith and belief in yourself, vision, hard work, determination and dedication.  Remember all things are possible for those who believe.” –Gail Devers

Even though I don’t get to perform as much as I used to, I still get the high from producing an amazing, high quality show.  I also get a sense of family from all of my performers, for better or for worse.  It’s taken me over a decade to revise and revamp my burlesque/variety show up to this point.  Will all this hard work, blood, sweat, tears, and money eventually pay off??  I believe in karma.  I believe in the good in life.  I wish you were alive to reply to my letters.  I’m basically spilling my guts to thin air, desperately wishing for an answered prayer.

It’s getting late Henry.  I’m tired.  My parents are taking me out for breakfast in the morning for my birthday.  I hope that my stomach is feeling better and my fever is gone.

Bisous, Mon Amour,

Mia

“There’s an old joke that strippers work for money and burlesque dancers work for applause. For many of them, it’s not the way they make a living – they just do it because they like to do it.” –Eric Hall

mia loves henry miller – Letter 30 – Black, Patent Leather, Thigh High Boots, A Matching Corset, and Being a Submissive Play Toy for Valentine’s Day

mia loves henry miller

Letter 30 – Black, Patent Leather, Thigh High Boots, A Matching Corset, and Being a Submissive Play Toy for Valentine’s Day

“TO PAINT IS TO LOVE AGAIN. IT’S ONLY WHEN WE LOOK WITH EYES OF love that we see as the painter sees. His is a love, moreover, which is free of possessiveness.  What the painter sees he is duty bound to share. Usually he makes us see and feel what ordinarily we ignore or are immune to.” —Henry Miller, Paint as you like and die happy

1/25/12 – 11:04 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

I just returned to my suburban home from the city loft.  I had another amazing, erotic, kinky night with Mr. B.  I love the way he makes me orgasm and orgasm and orgasm and orgasm.  It definitely eased my headache – at least for now.  I love how the natural body can produce pain blockers with sexual activity.  Sex is such an amazing sensation, when it is done well.

Ever since I was younger, in my early to mid twenties, I have had a polyamorous mentality.  I’ve been capable of engaging in threesomes with males and females with a certain comfort level deep within.  Yet, still have the strong bond of love with my partner.  It’s something that has always felt natural to me.  Mr. D.A., my first husband, definitely could not handle my adventurous sexual side.  We attempted a threesome with a guy at the beginning of our marriage, and a threesome with a girl, near the end.  Mr. D.A. could not keep his erection.  He did not like sharing me with others.  However, I’m sure he did his share of fucking other girls when I wasn’t around. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 29 – Early Birthday Surprises, Sybians and Sex Machines

mia loves henry miller

Letter 29 – Early Birthday Surprises, Sybians and Sex Machines

“Suddenly, without let or warning, a dynamo broke loose inside her.  Every particle of her molten being was convulsed with shuddering raptures.” –Henry Miller, Crazy Cock

1/23/12 – 9:51 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

I’m finally getting the chance to write a kinkier story. However, I felt the need to tell you about Mr. Cali Man, in order to make sense of my upcoming letters. I’ve been itching to write about my highly erotic, Saturday night, ever since it occurred.  I had an amazing weekend!  I’m still feeling high from it. I told Mr. C that I wanted new, kinky memories for my birthday.  I desire more explicit content for my letters to you. I wanted something sexual, sensual and so very naughty.

“When I think of sex I think of it as a universe, part unknown, mysterious, possibly forever unknowable.” –Henry Miller, The World of Sex 

I arrived at the loft early on Saturday morning, so I could get a head start on cleaning it for our upcoming evening and guests.  Mr. C will meet me here later in the afternoon. We are signing our third lease for our loft, and this was the first time that we were entertaining guests here, which was our main intention when we initially rented it.  My mind daydreamed of what might happen later that night as I cleaned.  My aroused body craved for our upcoming evening.  I could hardly wait. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 28, Part 2 – Sinning in Sin City: Goodbye Mr. California Man

mia loves henry miller

Letter 28, Part 2 – Sinning in Sin City: Goodbye Mr. California Man

“The potion drunk by lovers is prepared by no one but themselves.” —Anais Nin, Aphrodisiac

1/22/12 2:35 p.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

Wow!  Mr. C and I have just had the most amazing erotic night, last night at the loft.  However, I’m not going to write about it now, because I need to finish telling you about Mr. California Man.  But, I promise to tell you, Henry, in my next letter – Letter 29.   I’m still sore and tired from such an eventful night.  It was an early birthday gift from Mr. C.  It was definitely erotic and kinky!

Sinning in Sin City….

The Excalibur hotel was stunning, returning me to the past Renaissance days.  I’ve always been a huge fan of King Arthur, Queen Guinevere and Merlin.  I don’t think that I’ve ever seen so much activity and a variety of people together in one place.  I was observing so many different races and listening to so many dialects and languages.  I definitely wasn’t in Minnesota any more. I even saw gay men holding hands as they walked through casinos.  It was nice to see them be so open.  My mind had been closed for so long living in rural Minnesota and having a red neck husband.  My mind was now widening, stretching, yearning for more.

I shared a large room with Mr. Cali Man and his wife.  We had two queen sized beds.  By now I was getting used to being around Mr. Cali Man’s wife.  We seemed to get a long fairly well.  I tried to be as polite and nonintrusive as possible.  Now that I think back on it, I’m wondering if Mr. Cali Man’s wife had any bi-sexual fantasies.  I was naïve to the fact, because I wasn’t really aware of my own bi-sexuality.  It might have been very interesting if she was bi-sexual or bi-curious. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 28 – Mr. California Man, A Glance at the Past: Tainted Love

mia loves henry miller

Letter 28 – Mr. California Man, A Glance at the Past: Tainted Love

1/17/12- 9:15 a.m.

“In the end you have to come back to yourself. It has got to be you doing something whatever you decide upon.  Do what you think you have to do and don’t try to follow somebody else’s pattern because he was successful. You can’t be that way.  You are you. You’re absolutely unique and each one has his own destiny. We can learn as much as we wish, listen to the greatest masters and so on, but what we do, what we become, is determined by our character.  It is impossible to transmute the bad into the good, the wrong into the right. There is always this possibility.  It would be an utterly uninteresting world if everything remained what it seemed to be. I do believe in transmutation. For example, two men are put in prison. One man is utterly despairing; if released he may commit murder again.  The other man goes through some inner change and comes out a new man.” –Henry Miller, My Life and Times

Dear Henry Miller,

If we are wise, fortunate, and strong willed enough, we leave our past in the past and move forward in life.  But, sometimes I need to take a glance back to the past to realize how far I’ve come. I feel the need to venture to the past and tell you about an important event in my life – two, amazing, yet, emotionally confusing weeks, that changed everything for me and the path that I walk upon today.

It was around this time of year, fifteen years ago.  I had been conversing with a man via emails, phone and chatting with him online, for about two months.  I was still married to my first husband, Mr. D.A.  We had married young – I had just turned nineteen years old.  We were now approaching our ten year wedding anniversary.  My children were very young at this time.  My first husband and I fought all the time, which was very unhealthy for me and for the kids to witness or to be around.  I didn’t realize how unhappy I was in this marriage, until I left, to visit this gentleman in California, who I will name Mr. California Man.  He told me he could help me sell the mystery, detective novel I was working on.  I was young, naïve and desperate enough for success – so I believed that he could help me.  Sometimes weird things happen, which turn out to be the best things in my life. Continue reading