The Brass Key~House of Secrets


This photo was taken by me at my mama’s in 1995.

What instigated this blog was I found the person that was such a major influence on me.

I only saw what I wanted to see. His beauty and kind heart.

The Bitter and the Sweet.

“Never fear or explain your past. No need for apologies nor excuses.

It is the very thing that has made you the person you are today”

by Phoenixpalms

He sheltered from the Rain under the drainpipe~Persian Proverb
Addictions are a way to protect ourselves from the feelings dammed up inside us.
And indeed they temporarily dampen emotion and reality.
So we crouch under the drain pipe of addiction,
alone in a puddle of despair,ignoring the fact that WE are drowning.
Recovery begins when we crawl out,lift our face and arms to the sky,and sputter our finest prayer:
“Universal powers that be…Help me,I’m all WET ”
Addictions keep me from feeling and from healing.

I want to be healthy and happy.

With the help of a Higher Power I will find serenity.
This excerpt was taken from a gift my younger sister gave me.

A small book called “Gentle Reminders”by Mitzi Chandler for co-dependents

It was the summer of 91 and the air was humid and muggy. The nights were cool and we did not sleep at night. We did not sleep very much that summer. We parked the  car in the high over grown weeds and sun bleached grass. Hiding from other’s view, so we could sleep just a little. It was still dark when we pulled down the long dirt road.  The countryside was quiet. The loud silence in my mind was a welcomed one from the endless everyday noise. Everyday the same bittersweet moments turning minutes into hours. Days and nights blended as a spider makes his web.

I  longed at times to be as a fly and be captured. Apprehended, caught, stopped somehow from the tedious hustle and torment of my soul. This became our spot of choice as the police were always asking us to move on when we parked at the river. That had been our address for some time, but now it was not feasible to remain.
Our activities were spent chasing an elusive ghost. One that took us where we thought we wanted to be.

One that never ceased rattling our mind and enticing us to keep on chasing. We awoke that morning. It had rained and it was still a bit cool, the sun had not made its display and we enjoyed the coolness. Looking around we noticed how isolated our surroundings were. Old sheds and a worn house with a connected car port. There were cars in the bay area of the garage and many tools and things persons use that live by the farm and it’s ways.

We slept some more.

The next morning we went back earlier. We noticed the front storm door barely hanging off its hinges. We wondered if anyone even lived there. A light glowed from inside, a faint flicker. We knocked. The door fell off its hinges. We carefully removed it. It was a money item and money was what we needed to chase down the ghost. That knowing needed to be satisfied that lurked inside us. The storm door was an easy and quick sale. Later we went back and entered the home. It was eerie and strange to be there. It was as if the persons that once lived there had abandoned it a long time before. Everything was dusty and in disarray.

My eyes focused on the treasures left. Others had come before us and had ransacked the place, throwing everything into a heap on the floor. The furniture and crystal glasses, pottery urns  were worth a lot of money. We decided to somehow, someway remove the contents that were left and sell them. We did this for over 4 months, each day a new and lucrative find. It fed our habit, and the insidious ghost keeper was getting its fill and more.

The ghost chasers were happy in a warped sense of thinking and reality for us  was this day, this moment.
The “WHATEVER” word comes to mind.

The kitchen pantry was filled with canned goods. The basement was full of vacuum sealed glass jars filled with home preserved goods. A summer garden bounty lined the many shelves along with the dust and cobwebs. We didn’t know how long ago they had been preserved and were careful about spoilage. As we cleaned the dust and cobwebs off of the jars I thought of all the work and loving care that went into each Mason jar.

For a moment I remembered my own mama making her homemade ketchup, sweet corn, applesauce, peaches. I remembered how my sisters and I tried to help. The bounty from our summer garden, a feast to be thankful for on a freezing winter day in front of  a warm blazing fireplace.

It was not cold, it was the heat of seven suns, the hot suffocating Michigan heat in the air-filled our senses.
The bounty was our manna this day.

I often wonder what happened to those people. Were they old and unable to care for themselves? Did they become senile and there children put them in homes? Why didn’t the children have a caretaker watching over there prized possessions?  Did they not care, or maybe didn’t have the time?

These things did not concern me. To us it was like a job. We went like clockwork everyday to rest and then we would go inside and find something we felt would bring us funds for the days activities.

My mind does not allow regrets because I know it was a part of my growth process however painful and degrading it was.

“We are as a mist, appearing for a little time and suddenly disappearing.”

Reference: James 4:14


Becoming The Phoenix

Opens in my other blog Cryominute

I have been shown how to love everything about myself.  Not to be ashamed of who or what I once was, or what I once did.

By trying to escape that past vibration, that past negativity, that past failing or darkness of self and soul, I was doing the universe an injustice.
It is something that addiction does to a person and this addiction it cry’s out for relief. This relief comes in many forms and fashions. A day job is almost impossible to maintain when you are in the tight grip of addiction. It knows nothing but to fill that empty spot, and when it cries relentlessly you start all over. The song that addiction cries is not a pretty one. It controls you in ways and takes you places you never thought you could or would ever go.

Dark paths and alleyways.

Few see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The light they see may just be their final utopia as they pass into the great hereafter.

I am fortunate that I saw the darkness enough and experienced the abyss of loss, heartache and despair too many times. That helped me to focus on the true light that was just ahead.

It has been a long and weary road at times but I persevered.

I realize now it was my own inner strength, my light holding me gently and not letting me go.

I have a unique reminder of that troubled time in my life.

It is a solid brass key.
For me a KEY that has made all the difference.


Metaphors of Time


Photo from The Web

Storyteller~Written in third person style

(Writing in third person is writing from the third person point of view and uses pronouns like he, she, it, or they. It differs from the first person, which uses pronouns such as I and me, and from the second person, which uses pronouns such as you and yours.


Why is SHE over thinking, misplacing things? Most everyday dealing with those Reality Shifters that move the strangest items around on her  Her thoughts and movements faster than they should be. She needs to Slow down. It’s pretty bad when you find what you were looking for only to put it some place and forget again where you put it.

Since the New Year she has noticed many things happening at warp speed. Her mind can’t seem to catch up.
Little things seem proportionally big and big things seem small. Some days she literally feels as if she is on a hamster wheel going round and round. Things get misplaced, in the way, fall, break, make a mess that otherwise would not be.  Her sleep is erratic, and filled with spiders and scorpions, ex lovers, strange unfamiliar men.

She feels out of sorts like when some one misses something and has not a clue what is so elusive.

Than again it Could be the Valium she is prescribed to take TWICE everyday but doesn’t usually take.

Her daughter is telling her friend all about her travels.
Half the places she did not ever know about…

“Do I know you?”


“In your dreams”

She had THE  Tangier Escape all misaligned.

But as she says:

“that is what I remember.’’”

She was Not even three yet. Storyteller was barely 23. Even after all the years past she can not believe the adventure embarked upon. Traveling through Europe with a husband, backpack and baby on her back.


Who is too say what and how far back we can remember?

She heard persons say when you are near death you go all the way back to the womb.  Father said he had gotten to his early teens. He had six months too do so. He made it to seven months.

If they did NOT pass what did they remember?

Storyteller’s Mother on the other hand was whole heartily dedicated too an occult like religious.

She said:

“I had lost so much blood from my leg surgeries. They did NOT give me blood as I demanded. They cut out two huge fatty bulges from my thighs. They did both at the same time. I was in recovery for over a year because the wounds had to heal from the inside out.”

She said:

“Impeding Death was so dark, no light”.

Storyteller inquired. and she said:

” She couldn’t even begin to describe it and wanted too forget.”

The storyteller always wondered with her beliefs why she had those views. After her husband passed, she was living on her own in a different residence and local.
She said there were lots of spiders on her ceiling at night. They would come down and than suddenly disappear.

From my other Blog


OK, the valium has storyteller’s eyes going South.

Dream Sweet

Into The Mist



Seize The Day
Some say
Live for the moment
With nary thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow’s

Religious dogma teaches when you die you either ascend to the heavenly realms or you burn for ever in fiery torment.

Your fate depends upon how you lived your life on this earthly plain.

Most religions teach that after death we are as if we were sleeping, having neither thoughts or the privilege of any of our senses.

“James 4:14
Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.”

They give us the hope (an illusion ?) of being awakened through resurrection. Than we are judged by the ONE and all powerful creator of Heaven and Earth.

We are supposedly in his book of Good things and Bad things. This has throughout history put fear in the hearts of those that follow these teachings.

I was taught if you were not among the so called anointed class of 144,000 you had choices.

You either could live forever on a paradise earth or you indeed would invariably just cease to exist.

Therefore I ask ?

In lay terms IF we cease to exist, what is the difference ?

Our senses have been taken from us.

We rest eternally.

We feel nothing because we are non-existent.

(SIGHT) We see no more extraordinary sunrises or sunsets

(SMELL) We no longer linger on the essence of the rose

(HEAR) We no longer perceive the roar of life

(TASTE) We do not salivate over food that sustains us and gives us our strength

(TOUCH) We do not feel the pain of the thorn nor the experience the acquisitiveness of the petal.

The faculties of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch have ceased

I live my life in the moment and I cherish my loved ones with all my heart

I do not fear dying.

I have lived many lifetimes.

I believe we are created by a higher power.

We strive too Live, learn and pass that wisdom before we cease.

Our knowledgeable memories go with us.

Our stories evaporate into the mist.

© Cynthia m ART z 2016

What is Going On

Murphy’s law is a popular adage that states that “things will go wrong in any given situation, if you give them a chance,” or more commonly, “whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.”

Source of Sticky Note

Xmas was in the mailbox.

A large package arrived from Amazon today. My Christmas. They knocked once and I answered right away and they were already half way back to the truck. I yelled next time at least wait till you see the white’s of my eyes. Anyways, I am going to write about this as it is too detailed.

Tune in for what was in my package.

Got up at 8 AM. I made coffee, cut up greens for all the 10 birdies, fed the cats, checked on Hempy down under in his bedding without disturbing his slumber. I always ask him too give me a sign he’s still breathing and he moved his bedding for me.

I put make shift bath bowls in all three cages.

Checking the laundry card to see if it works and the $20 was put back on it.

Tomorrow, MY Blood-stone RING is out of pawn.

Dr. appointment at 1. They haven’t canceled yet so this is a good sign.

Pay the rent at the office, get clean filters for the AC.

Gordon’s Surplus for big bag of fries. My big bag of veggies I use mostly in my stir fry’s and food fodder for my Zoo.

Hempy gets a few peas tonight. He is so fat, he longer runs. I want to slim him up a bit so he remains active instead of sleeping all day and night.

No shame with Hempy (Bottom’s UP)


Darn card for laundry finally came and it doesn’t work. So over this crap. I paid the rent. I am going back to bed. The laundry fairy has off today. Calling them right NOW. They promised a call back today? This is after the four I sent back for the same reason. They didn’t work.

Gifts in Transit
Beautiful hand-made magnets, a beautiful hand-made tree decoration, ingrown nail remover tool, heart-shaped book markers, A Fit which I have already used.


Weird ASS Day.

My Chimes Music CD that I just played disappeared after taking it out of player. I burned another one, it’s playing.

Now my cell phone that says it’s charging. It is off.
It does not come on.

I have an extra sim but it is probably the battery.

AND to round my day out Days Of Our Lives did not record.

Called cell phone provider, they called me back and wala phone is on and working again.

Just washed my hair and showered. Making a cup of tea so I can finally try to relax after this odd day.

My Package

New Mr. Coffee, the coffee is awesome now.

Select Nature’s Variety Turkey for the felines (12 PK)

Minnie loves it and I hope it helps her problem with IBS. Click Minnie for that post.

She will be 13 next month.

Nag Champa

and , something else that is for my personal persona.

Blessings and Peace to the family’s of the two men who perished during Storm Goliath on December 27 th 2015.

Chase Morland 22 years old. Reports say he died from hypothermia and drowning. He was found a day after the boat most likely went down. It was so cold. They had to be really determined to go out into that mess. They had to know the dangers.

The last post Chase made on Twitter was

We might not be back, going into the storm

Sam ( Craig’s dog) swam a shore and stayed with him till he was recovered.

Sam continued to pace the shoreline.

For Craig Strickland

I saw the photo on their Facebook profile ( Backroad Anthem)

It was a big part of his life. (Backroad Anthem lead singer)

He was recovered today. Off shore line by about 75 yards. He was wet from the boat capsizing. Why did it take so long to find him ? At least he made it up the hill and out of the water. He must have known his Jesus was near. His arms were found in the shape of a cross.

May his family now have the closure they so needed.


Elusive Dreaming


8:53:03 AM
I had such an intense dream I needed to write it down as quickly as possible while I still remembered it. Although it was the kind of dream one doesn’t tend to forget so easily.

I was in a huge mall that was very high up. I was carrying my large brown leather bag and a back pack belonging to a friend. All personal and important documents were inside the brown bag. They were secure inside my snap wallet. Hempy was in his little pouch I had made for him.

Person’s mingled about and it was very crowded. I sit the bags down and when I looked they were gone. During my search for my possessions I was overtaken by a small group of men. They took me into a room and offered too help me. Next thing I know I am feeling very disorientated, I have no underwear on. I seek other help within the mall. I found a pair of underwear with tags still on I took them and covered my (_*_) self.
As I wondered about in a daze several others offered to help but by this time I trusted no one.

I located my bags only to once again have them ripped from me, taken by thieves.
I remembered my daughters cell number as plain as could be in my dream, but had only 10 ¢ on me. A lady walked up and gave me a quarter, she was throwing change at a wall.
I searched for a pay phone. They were either non existent or a sign was on them that said “out of order”.

I sit down and out of the corner of my eye noticed the man that had offered to help me earlier. He said they are coming if you are ready this time.

Sitting there I realized I was holding and loving on Hempy. I was so happy I nearly squeezed him too hard, not wanting to lose him. I also had my favorite blue cigarette case.
I looked out over the entrance to the mall and realized just how high I was. Literally and figuratively speaking.

I told the man that I always flew away when any one was trying to harm me or take from me. I would just sit still and envision flying and up and away I would go.
This time was different. I felt different. I knew I would not fly and my fate would be a fall of a great distance.
He took my hand and we slowly maneuvered our way down the long narrow ramp to the street.
I still had Hempy cradled in my arms and the blue case. Everything else was gone.
I knew I had a lot of explaining to do.

How do you explain something that eludes you.
© C. m ART z  2015

My other blog is more Dream Intensive

Dreams VS Reality

Rem Mode Dreaming


Trippy Zone

Friday ‎September ‎26, ‎2015
I was kidnapped by drug lords. I was visiting Ron Jerry and he said he was out of the scene. I was waiting for him to pick me up. Standing in front, one of his acquaintances came up too me. He was very good-looking and was holding a baggie of the white powder in front of me. He asked if I wanted to spend time with him. I asked him if he had seen or spoken to Ron Jerry. He nodded no and waved his hand.
Out of the blue came the dark sedan, the doors opened and the gun-toting team said “GET IN NOW”. They put a dark cloth over my eyes and tied it tightly.
Once inside their compound they doped me up. When I came out of the stupor I noticed they had wired my jaw and teeth. I was having trouble breathing as a small piece of masking tape was over my mouth. My nose was straining for air. I passed out.

When I awoke they said Ron Jerry owed them mucho money and was longer available to anyone. I would suffice to pay off his heavy drug debts.

The compound I was held at was very clean and sterile. Many doctors and scientific persons roamed the halls in the sterile white jackets and pants. A large glass dome covered the entire compound. Nothing could be seen on the outside. There were no birds or treetops in my viewing area.

I was attracted to a man who seemed very much in love with me. He had asked me to locate my sister and next thing I know we are both sequestered inside the dome.
The drug lords were of no importance, no longer needed and were not seen again.
The experiments started.
They were mostly of a sexual nature and not at all intrusive. I was falling in love with my captor. The sex was amazing. My sister on the other hand was initiating plans to escape.
I knew we were going to be here, we were at the disposal of the team that surrounded us.
We were well cared for and all our desires were known without so much as a word spoken.
Might as well settle in and resonate with our future.
We had no past. It was dissolved and removed from our sub conscious thoughts.

Whispers and Dead Ends

If you missed the first part.

The Necklace

© Cynthia m ART z 2014

I walked hand in hand through the home with my husband listening for any whispers about the theft. A small group of persons were on the veranda and we could see a look of disbelief on their faces. The woman had her hands in the air. I approached her and casually asked the history of the necklace. She said “Oh, it was a keepsake memory, that’s all” An old boyfriend she had met in Ocean City, Maryland many years ago had given it too her. Alarms went off in my brain.
“Wild days for sure, party and party some more.” Her boyfriend’s father owned the Crab Shack and asked if I was familiar with the delicious food they served.
She went on to say that he said he had found the necklace and on a drug fueled night laughed as he put it around her neck. He said perhaps one day the other half would appear.
I had them now, both of them and they connected perfectly.
Something, but not enough to reopen those cold case files.

We traveled to the Crab Shack on our trip back home. The kids were excited that we had decided to go to another beach resort.
On arrival, the babysitter took over the kids activities and we decided to get some lunch.
The Crab Shack all new and remodeled. We both noticed the flyer was still encased asking for any information on the disappearance and death of Lola Luna.
When we inquired of the owner, he said his son had passed away in a drug related murder a few years after her disappearance. We knew our hopes were unraveling. Was his son responsible in some way? Was he with the lowlife the night in question? Was he silenced because of perhaps knowing too much? The only thing we were positive of was the necklace at some point was in his son’s possession. It could only have been acquired by removing it from Lola’s petite neck.

The old man looked so worn from sea and salt.  So much turmoil around his eyes and forehead. A tortured soul.
He said the summers were always filled with so much laughter. College crowds living in dorms over the summer. They were so happy they had secured employment at his Shack.

He went on to mention the summer Lola disappeared and the mystery surrounding her death. He said the kids were experimenting with drugs and alcohol more than usual. New faces were coming into the scene. Fancy cars and gold dripping from their necks. He said everything seemed to change from the carefree summers he remembered so fondly. His eyes filled to the brim with an overflow of tears.
He said he had a daughter who was overseas with her husband in the missionary. They had one child, a girl they called Breeze. His oldest son was in New York at the Stock Exchange making deals that would make the average person’s head spin in disbelief. He mentioned they had there lives and seldom ventured home. His wife had went into a severe depression after their youngest son was murdered. She was practically an invalid.

Our heads were spinning. We knew we would never have the answers we so wanted.
As I reached up and clutched the heart shape necklace I was glad I had the infinity sign I had engraved on the back facing the front.

Infinity ~That was all that was left.


The Necklace


Two part creative writing. The conclusion can be found here

Lola Luna had mysteriously disappeared. Weeks later her decomposed body was found at the docks in an old  boat that was no longer serviced.

She was like a sister too me. We had went to the Oceanside resort at Ocean City, Maryland for the summer. We both were employed at The Crab Shack.

The case had been a dead-end so too speak and was filed in the Cold Case System along with so many other unsolved crimes.

It was a small community, someone knew what happened to Lola.

I went into my investigation mode.

Several months had passed. Her parents had retrieved her body for burial in the family plot in Northern Maryland. I was back home, finishing up college courses during the cold winter months. Summer had faded and fall leaves fell from the soon to be barren trees. I was distraught, no conclusions or closures for Lola’s demise.

The night she disappeared I was tired from my long week shift. She wanted to party with a new crowd she had met. I told her to be careful and to have fun. I put a beautiful one of a kind necklace around her neck. I had designed it for her upcoming birthday later in the month. I had the other half that connected with it. I told her it would give her good fortune.

I personalized it by having the infinity sign engraved on the back of it

I was content with caring for my animals that had come along with me. Hempy the Hamster was on the old turntable spinning round and round as the tunes from my IPOD played in the background. He was a perfect cuddly ball of fur. As I watched him spin,  my mind started thinking how Lola seemed too always be going in circles. This reminded me that she was still in limbo. Not settled. Those responsible had literally gotten away with murder.

Where did they go, were they filled with guilt and fear of retribution by the law and her loved ones?

I have often wondered why she was not taken out to sea, no body would have ever been found. It was as if they wanted her too be found as she was; laying lifeless and decomposed in the boat.

Were those responsible sending a message ?

Her picture remains at The Crab Shack asking for any information surrounding the events on the night she disappeared.

Fast forward 10 years.

I am married and my husband and two toddlers are spending a summer vacation in Atlantic City, Maryland. We brought along our babysitter so we could enjoy the night life that had expanded to include a casino on the boardwalk. The Diving horse was no longer featured. It truly was a willful abuse of animals. Our children settled for the history and story telling of by gone days on the boardwalk.

Diving Horses

A movie was made of the true story about the diving horse.

Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken

My husband was involved in Real Estate at the time and was involved with several wealthy entrepreneurs. We socialized and were invited to a beautiful home on the outskirts of the city. As I was using the guest bathroom I noticed THE Necklace. It was sitting in a jeweled dish. I almost fainted seeing it. I really didn’t know what to do, so I found my husband and told him.
I had taken the necklace. His jaw fell open as he mouthed “The Necklace” and I nodded “Yes, The Necklace”
Word quickly spread that there was a missing necklace from the main guest bathroom.

Now we had to find the person that was missing it.
To Be Continued Here

This is a creative non fictional writing.
© Cynthia m ART z 2014