Angelyne

Angelyne is a symbol, a sign for me.

She is the Goddess, incarnate.

She is surrounded by a pink-golden light; her aura stretches out over the entire city of Los Angeles.

When I entered the "Win a Ride in Angelyne's Pink Corvette" contest at the CD Trader, I said to the Universe, "Universe, I should totally win this contest! I want it so badly! I think I should win, and you could show me that you hear me asking for it."

Well, lo and behold...it did.

Synchronicity. Coincidence. Blessings.

I am tapped in.

I'm not bragging; just observing.

I have never been this tapped in before, this connected, this "in-the-flow".

Angelyne is a representation of that, in physical form.

Snake-Oil Salesman

Lyrics for a new Red Felt Heart song:

You fill up all the spaces with people and endless places; photograph it, Instagram it, try to mark it up as profit.

You smiling Snake-Oil Salesman -- you and your fancy tailcoats -- you never got the love you needed, now everyone is left depleted.

You know all about it...you're on top of all of it...you, alone.

You know all about it...you're on top of all of it...you, alone.

You fill up all the spaces with gossip, slander, and rigged horse races; you never got the love you needed, now everyone is left defeated.

Your grand facade is blatant -- you cultivate it daily -- but night-time rolls around too soon, and your tarnished heart is exposed to the moon.

You know all about it...you're on top of all of it...you, alone.

You know all about it...you're on top of all of it...you, alone.