Smoke and Mirrors spills torment, agony, small miracles and a blind lust for life no matter what the cost. When we look closely and peel back the facade of perfect skirts, soft skin and angelic smiles, we see. We see the ugly, the truth, and everything in between. I am Smoke and Mirrors every day. I am pretty blouse and sweet face pining over which shade of red lipstick is the right one for me...while the real me dies inside. Maybe that defines all of us to some extent. Perhaps we fear to be uncovered or peeled back and have our faults laid out in proud display. Every mishap, every event, every peeling and uncovering has evolved into the Smoke and Mirrors I have laid out on these pages. I'm a successful lie, I do it well. I'm itching to be opened up.
It's the thing hiding under my rib, neatly wrapped in my gut, everything that I am afraid of—that twists my heart into a pretzel. I wrote it, summed it up, in the Smoke and Mirrors of my everyday life. I wanted to be shook, instead I will shake you. |
