Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Lovespell for A Lonesome Friend



Once in my twenties I had an epiphany c/o Michelle Pfeiffer.

It was a Saturday afternoon and she was being interviewed on the television. The reporter suggested that she had 'bad luck in love,' having had quite a few romances gone sour. Her response was genuine, insightful and oh so inspiring to the twentysomething me. She said (and pardon me for paraphrasing, Michelle, I wasn't taking notes)

"Who said it was about one love forever, anyway? Why should we pressure ourselves for that kind of elusive love? Perhaps some loves last longer than others, and that's fine. In fact, that's great. Just because it isn't forever doesn't mean it isn't love."

The irony in that Michelle Pfeiffer of Grease 2 and now Hairspray redux spoke words so resonant is palpable. Love is a beautiful, powerful thing. When a spark, a connection no matter that it is a scotch induced one, or one born from a conspiracy of moonlight and stardust, any spark of spirit, soul or flesh is an amazing thing. To be celebrated for the moment it was there, or the moments of unraveling. And later on, no matter how the ending of it takes form, any love encounter brings warm, fuzzy, naughty feelings of delight to the recollection.

This was never an illusion, my dear, but a promise...a possibility. That this other could not see this is his to regret, his life's enrichment thwarted. His sorry loss.

Shape shift, my dear. The fight is not one of pain, it is one of discovery and adventure. The enemy is not elusive love, after all. The fight is glorious and eloquent. It is enraptured. And even when it is sloppy, perhaps even misguided, the fight is evermore romantic. You are the hero and heroine of this blockbuster, my dear. Everyone else, no matter how stellar and significant, no matter how Bogart or Bacall, everyone else is just a supporting actor.

My beautiful, my lovely, my irresistible ... a lovespell of sorts from me to you.
Let all lovers past, present and future be prayer bead blessings deepening the story, enriching the plot.

Let those who are stunned to stillness by your brilliance never truly shake that you feeling.
Let your loving be bold and brazen, unflinchingly crimson and platinum perfection.
Let beginnings and endings weave seamlessly, the love affair of cosmic pleasures and ponderings.
May you never count the days, the ways in which love comes into your world, but rather make it so that every day and every way truly count.

And always, always when all is said and done, take the spotlight and bask in the warmth of it all.

(written in response to friend's heart-broken blog entry)