Mialoveshenrymiller – Letter 49 – B is also for Burlesque, Belly Dancing, Bend It like Beckham, The Benson Hotel, and Two Bad Girls


Letter 49 – B is also for Burlesque, Belly Dancing, Bend It like Beckham, The Benson Hotel, and Two Bad Girls

I’m writing this letter on 7/20/2012 at 12:01 p.m.

Art work by Mia Malone – Jennings (Miamalonejennings.com)

Dear Henry,

“The One thing we can never get enough of is love.  And the one thing we never give enough of is love.” –Henry Miller, Insomnia, Or The Devil at Large

I am typing this letter to you, sitting upon my soft, brush suede brown, living room sofa, alone, at my artist loft.  I have just returned from physical therapy.  There is a small, beautiful, blue knitted blanket, which use to belong to Mr. B’s mother, casually folded and placed next to me, just in case my feet get cold. It’s placed where Mr. B use to sit as we engaged in conversation, cuddled, or ate dinner together. Because it belonged to Mr. B’s mother, it reminds me of my past lover.  I still miss him, but, have acquiesced myself to Mr. B’s decision to cease our relationship.  My sofa is very cozy and plush, despite its flaws of having an artist for an owner. There are several speckles of vivid paint, in a wide range of sizes and a mixture of two colors, bluish – green and light purple. The accidental splash of paint stains significantly lowers the décor of my cosmopolitan, upscale, artist loft, which is in the Twin Cities.  Large drops of hard and heavy rain sound like native, rhythmic drums as they harmonically collide and melodiously pound upon the large pane of glass, which is my tall and wide, glass patio door, which leads outdoors, to a very large balcony area.

“In Hermann Hesse’s famous book Siddhartha, he has his hero say – “I can think, I can wait, and I can do without.” To me these qualities make a man invincible.  Especially, “to wait and to do without.” America knows neither the one nor the other.  Perhaps that is why at the early age of 200 years she shows signs of falling apart.” –Henry Miller, Sextet

The day feels calm and sleepy to me.  I love that I am on the sixth floor, which is the top level of the complex I sometimes reside in, except when there is a leak in the ceiling.  I rent one of the penthouse suites and it is beautiful. Generally, on sunny, lively afternoons, my view is full of the activity of human life in the city, several stories below me.  I can hear the sweaty, dirty, construction crew, creating the unique sounds of a metropolitan symphony, with their high powered machinery and their loud, clanging tools. Every single sound falls universally into place, playing a citified din to my ears.  It speaks a unique language which somehow calms and comforts me.  It gives me the same kind of solace which I feel when I am in NYC, only on a much smaller level.  I also think that it is also highly stimulating and awe inspiring, observing a variety of hard working men and women, busy, building the  light rail on University Avenue. Continue reading

mia loves henry miller – Letter 38 – LMAO with Friends, Burlesque Beginnings, The Blues and Tiger Man

mia loves henry miller

Letter 38 – LMAO with Friends, Burlesque Beginnings, The Blues and Tiger Man





“A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge.” –Thomas Carlyle

2/14/2012 – 12:56 a.m.

Dear Henry Miller,

Happy Valentine’s Day Henry Valentine Miller!  I love you so much!  I genuinely do.  However, I actually think this is a stupid holiday.  I’m not very romantic when it comes to this Hallmark moment.  I think that it’s a ploy to increase the flow in our economy and to put expectations on people that can be unreasonable.  Why can’t we give to others because we love them and wish to express that, on any particular day?  Why do women expect roses that will eventually die or diamonds, baubles and jewels that really do nothing but make one a little more decorative or put them more in the spotlight for thieves?  Or why do we like to receive yucky chocolates, bought at the last moment, in highly decorated boxes?  I do love lingerie though.  I would love new lingerie – sexy black thigh high stockings, long black gloves, matching panties, corset and a bra.  Do you know how many fights I have been in with my significant others because of unrealistic expectations on this holiday?  I once threw a huge bottle of baby powder at my ex-husband, which exploded into large volcanic, white clouds in the bedroom, because he didn’t do anything for me for Valentine’s Day.  I was young and stupid.  He generally bought me cheap, yucky chocolates, in an over decorated box, after Valentine’s Day, when they went on sale.  Today, I feel so much better and emotionally stable that I have no expectations for this day.  I didn’t even remember it was today, until I looked at the date when I began typing this letter. Do you think that I’m being cynical?  Yes, indeed I am!!  I do like this day because the name of it reminds me of you.  I love your middle name. Continue reading