Crown Jewels Revisited


” We were once revolutionaries with ” flower power ” and now we can hope to achieve  our crowning glory thru the diverse paths of all our experiences . This is only the beginning ” …..sentence from my first posted blog .


That day , that extraordinary day 6 months ago when beginning this blog while on a pilgrimage to Bulgaria , and having no idea really , as to just what I was doing other than feeling a creative spirit emerge like a gentle ocean wave over the not so distant Black Sea , I began . It was a wave of some sort of rebirth , a vibrant rebirth from that ancient and mysterious place deep within the Thracian Valley , deep within me .


Today , I re-read that first posting and the 50 following , and my subtle growth as a writer shouted out to me and many overused and favorite words too .  The often secret voice with-in , that is so rarely spoken , surprises me still making my heart feel enlarged as I look at the written words so strangely giving the soul it’s expression . The beginnings of a novel , a screen play , poetry , musings of memories , dreams revealed out of joy , out of pain , tragedy , shame and regret and even fear … It has been powerfully sapient , strangely wonderful and sweetly healing to set free as the wind of Bulgaria began to cleanse my being , soaring the mundane into the sublime , transforming the enduring truth of my life . I am so grateful …Life is Beautiful ! … so gorgeously beautiful ( my most used word ) , especially when complexity flows into simplicity and glows into a white light .


In discovering episodes of a life , a human life , a story begins . Overwhelmed and humbled , compassion plays like a Chopin symphony . To be set free from self-judgement and dogma is … well , it is Divine … to no longer be embarrassed by what I write about is no longer just an interlude but a complete Opera with all the true , clear sounding of a loud brass , gentle wind instruments , the lyrical piano notes , pounding , heart beating percussion and erotic guitars and strings . In rereading , I ask myself , ” where did that come from “? I only faintly remember writing it . I ask , does the mind and soul speak to each other ? … I hear the whispering.


I have felt your spirit of encouragement and hopes and I wish you could truly know how important and lovely you are … You shine and it dazzles and I felt your love along the way .



























Clouds ( continued from first scene – May 29 )


Scene # 4 : Setting love free

Tender and lyrical music playing as Abu , the secret keeper walks gently by playing his flute from previous scene ( scene now changes )

Note to cameraman : 3 minutes each in slow motion of volcano erupting and lava flowing , a pink flower blooming and waves of ocean rolling , followed by close up of Tavisha waking up and out her window we see a canoe going against the current .


Narrator : Brushing over her eyelids , the new day awakens her . She believes in the “green light , the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us . It eluded us then , but that’s no matter – tomorrow we will run faster , stretch out our arms further … and then one fine morning , we are born back ceaselessly into the past “.


Scene description : Eric and Tavisha laying in the grassy hill overlooking Eastsound Bay

“But I am older “, she says

” And don’t you know I won’t ever leave you , even though you are always leaving me … leaving me to be a mother still to grown up children . What about your life … and mine ? Why should I not admit it , in this moment my heart is breaking . I want you to come back , I will wait for you . You’re age doesn’t matter “!

” I am in love with everything and everyone I see “.

” Do you love me , my love “?

” Yes “.

” Then I will wait for you . Please don’t give away what you love the most “. He reaches for her and touches her skin , ” so much darker , so much softer “.

Music plays from ” Phantom of the Paradise” … ” Old Souls ” as scene changes to 3 yrs. later in Hawaii .


Narrator : ” She had been here before at her daughters on a now repeated journey . Hear the melodious , haunting note of the distant violin . He had married another … he did not wait . ” The heart dies a slow death , shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none . No hopes , nothing remains “.

The noise of children is heard running and playing and Baby Blue Samsonite is heard singing , ” A Case of You ” : ” oh , I am a lonely painter , I live in a box of paints , oh , you’re in my blood like holy wine , you taste so bitter and so sweet , oh , but you are in my blood , you’re my holy wine … You’re so bitter , bitter and so sweet “.


Narrator : ” As sadness is encountered , loneliness is acknowledged and consciousness awakens … It is the day after the Summer Solstice  and strange is Tavishas dream .

Music playing ” Here Comes the Sun ” – Beatles

She sees herself running , floating above the ground , her mouth is wider , her teeth whiter , her darkest brown hair of youth , shinier . She wears the earth colored silk dress Eric had once bought for her the week after they met … It’s ribbon trailing behind with all the knots coming loose as the dress falls off . A voice is heard  , it is from their seer and teachers beloved wife , ” you look very beautiful together “. There up ahead is the hammock Eric had given Tavisha and hanging on the edge of it is the silver necklace of antiquity  with the blood red stone that had been discovered on Friday Harbor on Valentines Day . Tavisha awakens , crying from the lucid dream , remembering the electricity they both felt running thru their veins the first time they had sat next to eachother with legs accidentally touching … the shock of it and the poetry written because of this lightening , the poetry of them both , the poetry he had bound for her when she left and that now was kept inside Baby Blue Samsonite ……


Scene changes : Ocean beach in Hawaii

A distant prayer is heard from the volcano . The whole ocean is inside of Tavisha and she loves him … loves him still , but new with no attachments and deep , like the flaming sonnet of her heart set free . She loves him .

Abu is seen sitting in a Gingo tree , a blissful smile upon his brown weathered face as he watches Tavisha writing Eric’s name in the sand once again , only this time she is dancing her foot-prints all around and as the waves wash it away , she is heard by Pele , the fire goddess  , to be laughing like the sound of bells as a single orange bird flies like a brushstroke over the aqua sky .


We leave this scene with the image of the volcano erupting red , the bass drum beating loudly …as the hammock swingsImage


Photos by Ellen Rogers

Meg Dickerson






















Poetry Love Crown


For the past three years , no one had spoken to me , spoken about the ancient spiritual truths with me since leaving the island , this island of great calling . I had to learn by myself to grow alone in fortitude and to cling to the meaning of a divine name once given to me in ceremony by my teacher , a name that symbolized “courage “. There was a mystery about that man , a mystery I wanted to unlock like a rusty gate with honeysuckle and fern caught in its small key-hole . The past I had spent here was different now . I was changed too and the island felt smaller like a blurry ghost in the distance , panting with a sorrow of long ago , a sweetness and a sorrow that wrung my heart . . .


Sitting alone outside the yoga courtyard , a cool overcast morning , I saw her pass by on a bicycle ( I had never seen her before ) . She gave a hand signal to turn , a clue that she was from Europe . I felt a small , sharp , piercing inside my body and just sat very still for awhile . And then I knew everything was alright and life was exactly how it was meant to be and with this acknowledgement , a gust of music blew thru my braided hair loosing and setting it free and it comforted me . I had a letter to mail and walked to the post office and suddenly again , a feeling of fire burning me deep inside … she was exiting as I was entering … I looked , for a quick moment , into her small close-set eyes and saw a recognition between us and too , I saw her eyes merge into one large beautiful eye of translucent light , the light of a goddess . She was perfect for him . I felt her strength and was surprised at how tall she was , larger than me , and beautiful like a cloudless blue sky morning .


I walked and walked , an enormous silence enveloped in my soul . I wanted to be near the beach , near the cool water to calm the fire in my heart . I walked slow , panting from the mysterious moment so unexpected of seeing my lost loves , new love . And then as suddenly as it had occurred , my past detached and the freedom of its acceptance was like a waterfall , an untamed waterfall so clear and fresh like cool air molecules of the wooded pine where I had once rode horses with my beloved . And a new gust of music overwhelmed me in its joyful sound , rushing like the note of a gentle flute above the pounding of a beating drum  . Feeling in the presence of a rich and gripping masterpiece that I was surrendering too , a white car passed me from behind , down North Beach road … it was him ! … he glanced at me  … I saw his face … but he didn’t know it was me ( or didn’t want to stop ) . I stood silent on this immense island between  sand and sea . A single tear fallen , a voyage flowering , cascading like the river flow of my heart , while no one speaks to me . . .Image


Eastsound Bay by meg dickerson


remember the fish on the shore

love was a glowing blue eye

remember we stared and stared more

and then found a place on the bay to lie

two lovely eyes

a winter to die

two lovely eyes .


remember my statute that would cry

its broken arms you tried to heal

you came over me like a holy light

following the fish on the shore for more that night

two lovely eyes

a winter to die

two lovely eyes .


” Freedom and love go together . Love is not a reaction . If I love you because you love me that is a mere trade , a thing to be bought in the market , it is not love . To love is not to ask anything in return , not even to feel that you are giving something … and it is only such love that you can know freedom “. … Jiddu Knishnamurti















Reality Interlude #3


Awakening after my first evening on the “Empire Builder”, I am grateful to my green vintage coat , that used as a blanket , kept me warm in the chill of the night train . A train immense in its pounding power and gentle in its rhythmic rocking , the wheels touching fast the metal track sounding like a lullaby from outer-space , the velvet sky embracing the swift movement of the mighty train beneath it . I remember something … Sleeping , I had a dream , a dream of a train wreck with the luggage thrown all over and name tags I could clearly read , floating in the air with clothes flying about like the spirits of ghosts . And I saw my old friend too . I saw her young and on a beach holding a framed in glass photo of her and her now dead  lover when they were young , young and very beautiful . She begins running away from me on the waters edge , her long , auburn in the sun , hair flowing down past her narrow waist …


The train is now somewhere in North Dakota passing thru Fargo last night where the plane was bound for when Ritchie Valens and Buddy Holly died in a crash , known as ” the day the music died “. We passed on thru Devils Lake , a remnant of a glacial sea the Indians called  ” Evil Spirit Lake “, believing the loose rocks were the result of a mammoth struggle between thunderbirds and water monsters . And on thru Minot , known as the ” Magic City ” because it grew overnight , like magic , the moment the Great Northern Railroad announced it’s route and too , where Al Capone used the town as a central hub for his liquor smuggling . Gazing sleepily with stardust still in my eyes making my sight blurry , I watch a rose colored dawn appear out my window as we pass by Fort Buford , the sad place where Chief Sitting Bull surrendered after the Battle of Little Big Horn in 1881 and I hear a melodious note of a crying violin .


The breakfast car is just opening , it’s 6:30 . The waiter seats me at a crisp clean table with three others who are already looking at the menu . We introduce ourselves … this is a very polite car … where the passengers seem on their best behavior . Let me introduce you to George , Cathy and Matthew , the following is what they revealed to me :  George and Cathy have been married 45 years . George is Greek , retired and a sportsman who really wants his 14 year old grand-daughter , Isabella , to become a TV weather woman because she’s a wiz at math and could make a lot of money in this profession . But instead she already is a trained , professional ice skater who won’t listen to his good advice ! Cathy , as small and short as her husband is tall , wears no make-up and is naturally pretty . We talk about creative personalities and her career as a ballroom dancer . They tell me I would love Boston . And now as the food is served , silent Matthew comes alive . He is a rather plump , unassuming man in his 40’s with wonderful eyes that look directly at you with kindness . Living in a condo in downtown Philadelphia , he walks to work , owns no car and is traveling to Seattle just for the enjoyment of it . He asks us only one question , ” How are your pancakes “? and when Cathy says , ” delicious  “, Matthew exclaims ,” Ditto”! ( obviously a foodie ).


The train of insomnia comes to a stop again in the middle of the North Dakota plain because of the right of way of the freight trains . As the four of us admire the beauty of a sparrow , outside the window , sitting on a tall blade , a sparrow out of the nest for the first time looking for a cricket in the tall grass , we say our goodbyes . Returning to my seat , still sleepy from the nights dreamland crossing , a message appears on my phone ….. “she died last night “.


All photos taken on the train




Reality Interlude #2


Chicago : Adams street just outside Union Station .

Leaving Union Station , I take the escalator up and out to Canal Street . I had forgotten the hypnotizing allure , like the whistle heard in the distance of an oncoming train , of the big city streets . Large tourists boats beneath the street bridge , glide like noisy swans , on the wide river , glimmering in the sun and on the sidewalk corner an old man with a saxophone performs for a few coins to be tossed into his open instrument case of torn burgundy velvet . His music is sweet , his face weathered , his shirt torn ragged . As I walk east towards Lake Michigan down Adams street , noticing crowds of beautiful people and admiring the breathtaking architecture of tall buildings , my now highlighted pink and purple hair blowing north , south , east and west , gives me freedom in my step with flip-flops bouncing down the sidewalk . I smile at the uniformed employees chatting together in the wind in front of hotel lobbies I wish I could stay in . I would love to live in lots of different hotel rooms for a year !


Suddenly a man , a very handsome man , a tall man appears walking in step with me . Why is he walking with ME ? Being quick in my observations , I notice his fine navy linen suit , tailored a size too small like the European men in Sofia and his laced tan leather shoes shine to am almost burnt orange sheen . He has a face slightly boyish in its angles , terribly handsome like Brad Pitts in ” Meet Joe Black ” and his long thick white blond hair brushed casually straight back off his forehead , was nearly too much for me ! Seriously !

” You look as colorful as the city , like an exotic bird ”

” It’s windy up there so I landed down here ” . Can’t believe I say this !… as he laughs . ” It’s an amazing place for sure “.

” Where do you come from , some other country “?

” Um , no , Michigan “.

” But what is it you do “?

” Um , I’m an artist , um , what about you “?

” A writer , I live here , a film writer . Your hair and your coat ( bright green vintage ) … pause … they are provocative … I’m sorry , I knew I shouldn’t have said it that way … It’s the way you walk wearing it so large on you … and your blond pink hair too . Where are you going and would you please have a coffee with me “?

” Um … Thankyou , but ” … almost feeling sick to my stomach , I stop walking ,

” Jack , my names Jack , look here’s my card , what’s your name sunshine ?

” Meg , but I have to catch a train in less than an hour “.

” Are you coming back thru this way ? Look , look here on my card , my phone number , will you please call me . I just had my 50th birthday and I’ve become more brave , I know I’m just a stranger to you but I would really like to talk more with you again . You are like a peacock , so bright . ( now I think he’s really funny ! )

” I’m going back now , back to the station “. as I turn around and ignore responding to his plea .

” Wait , don’t go … let me at least help you cross this busy street “.

Once on the other sidewalk corner , I look straight in his brown eyes and simply say , ” bye “.

” Don’t be in a hurry “, spoken under his breath as if it were a secret thought I couldn’t hear .

” Are you flirting with me still , a much older woman “?

” Yes , I’m attracted  to you “.

” Um , lucky me ” … I surprise myself flirting back and flashing my eyes at him like a camera shutter , sending mixed messages .. “Bye”.

He stands still , putting his beautiful hands in both pockets , his dear smile lost in the Chicago crowd .


Narrator ( getting confused as to which story he’s in ) : ” Walking away , meg hears another conversation between two young women “.

” Did you hear that ! ! ! … I swear I heard that baby blue samsonite suitcase that woman is carrying say something !


Personal note : Encounter on Adams Street dedicated to you , Robbie … umm … you know what I mean !








Reality Interlude


St. Joseph , Michigan : Amtrak Station


Travel Attire :

clean underwear .

white cotton t-shirt .

silk tunic .

blue jeans

vintage green velvet oversized coat .

$2.50 pair of flip-flops .


Suitcase check list :

oval framed photo of grandmother , Lily De Korne .

book : ” Treasure Island ”

food : water , apple , cheese and hard role

sketchbook , paper , pen and pencil


party dress ( for dancing )


Vintage full skirt

Mexican blouse

Nightgown – white

Mens blue and white stripped pajamas ( oversized )

Hand-knit sweater

Ballet flats

Norwex face lotion

Silver-city pink lipstick

Vanilla lotion

Red leather journal of important information

Passport and debit-card


One heart filled with joy and gratitude , in love with love for all who share this earth ( animals and nature included )


Union Station : Chicago



Clouds … supporting cast


Supporting actors on train journey from London to Cairo :


Vera Famiga as Charlotte : poet and raw food teacher , friend of Tavisha



Jeremy Renner as Sam : Brooklyn artist , older brother to Edward



Emile Hirsch as Edward : younger brother of Sam , traveling together .


Chloe Sevigny as Tamsin : media photographer on train



Maggie Elizabeth Jones as Peggy : 7 year old daughter of Andrea ( scenes in Hawaii )


” and there may be more ” … yet to be cast !












Clouds … the goddess


Character study : Brigid ( beloved goddess )

Places : Orcas , Hawaii , various train scenes from London to Cairo

A most beautiful woman in her mid forties , from Sweden . She can be heard by the tinkling of her ankle bells in scenes where she is not seen . It is love at first sight between her and Eric . Note to cameraman : film only her feet at certain times when mystery is to be evoked . She is the queen of the night with the owl as her symbol .


Music playing by Leonard Cohen , ” There is a crack in everything . That’s how the light gets in ”

” The Goddess doesn’t enter us from outside ; she emerges from deep within . She is not held back by what happened in the past . She is conceived in consciousness , born in love , and nurtured by higher thinking . She is integrity and value , created and sustained by the hard work of personal growth and the discipline of a life lived actively in hope “.


Music playing slow and hauntingly beautiful : piano

Brigid appears too in the final death scene , wearing a long see-thru flowing gown with scant bikini underneath , on the windswept beach of Hawaii .

music playing : one note piano and flute with the sound of her ankle bells as an owl is shot in slow motion joining the eagle on Abu’s shoulder .









Clouds … A love story screenplay



A floating tale of drama , comedy and music in one persons life .

Character notes : Andrea

Place : Hawaii


She represents the quirky yet stable side of life … a paradox .

Her motto : ” I rarely end up where I was intending to go , but often end up somewhere that I needed to be “.

Her presence introduces humor to the plot reminding viewers that often the serious = the comical . A bird enters the scene representing this aspect of comedy when Andrea is not present . She is pregnant and moving with husband and little daughter just before birth to Hawaii and asks Tavisha ( her mother ) to come along .

” I need to bring my life to Hawaii . I need to put it in a box “. This email to her mother sparks Tavishas goodbye to Eric and Orcas Island .


Music for scenes with Andrea :

” Goodnight My Angel ” by Billy Joel … tenderness of motherhood

” Walking in the Air ” from the animated movie , ” The Snowman ” … brilliant along side the absurd


Second email sent to Tavisha before she arrives :

Mom ,

I am having a very emotional day today . So many aspects of humanity are bubbling to the surface . Remind me to share the following with you : … House rental in Honokoa

Bobs responce

Lillie Kent

Lady who is buying my house

I think there may be more .


Scene of laughter between Andrea and Tavisha as they compose letter together for rest of family :

” We’re so broke that Andrea uses the milk from my cereal bowl in her morning coffee … but we couldn’t be happier “!

” We’re so broke that we returned our $2.95 fly sweater because a flip-flop works much better … but we couldn’t be happier “!

” We’re so broke that we take the curtains off the window to use as beach blankets … but we couldn’t be happier “!

Life in paradise : ” Brushed my teeth with baby diaper ointment , thought it was ” Toms ” toothpaste !

… … … … …

The Volcano : Peles Fire represents the connection between Abu and Andrea

Abu collects the following poem dropped by baby blue samsonite  , at the airport before Tavisha boards for Kona

” The iridule , when beautiful and strange , in a bright sky above a mountain range . One opal cloud let in an oval form reflects the rainbow of a thunderstorm , which in a distant valley has been staged , for we are most artistically caged “.

… … … … …

Andreas final scene :

After the death of Tavisha we see Andrea ( Olivia in the background ) , on the verge of a tender and humorous spiritual epiphany as Abu appears ( carrying baby blue samsonite ) …and takes hold of her hand .

Closing scene : note to camera man : slow motion , bird ( chickadee ) flys from far to near and just before landing on Abu’s shoulder , turns into an eagle …Olivia sitting on the beach and Andrea smiling with tears .