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Patricia Caliskan Author

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Music as The Muse

January 22, 2018June 17, 2018Leave a comment

Ah! The Muse. That lovely, literary sprite who flutters helpfully around our shoulders, filling our eager, little minds with wonderful ideas and standalone characters, which appear out of the blue, in glorious, black ink! Except, it doesn’t quite work that way, does it? And, believe me, if it did, there would be a lot more people … Continue reading Music as The Muse

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Monday, December 10. Exchange Flags, Liverpool. No Fab Four in the Town Hall, this morning, sadly 🕘

6pm. Friday. 💞 #friday #fridaynight #fridaymood #fridaynights #beatricedalle #bettyblue #working9to5 #officeoftheday

Phroawww ✒ 🖊 #pens #pen #penandink #johnlewis #quill #patriciacaliskanauthor #writingtools #writersoﬁnstagram #writersofig

Those who deserve these pictures, can already hear the theme... Some fly by night... Dah, dum-dum, dah... Checkout the @moore2d elevator cameo #moonlightingtvshow #Moonlighting #1985tv #brucewillis #demimoore @moore2d

Y'know, if it was still 1985, Dempsey & Makepeace would be on at 9pm tonight @glynisbarber #michaelbrandon #southbank #itv #tv_landscapes #tv_retro #tvshow #80stv

Sometimes our Shakras are way out-of-line, even in the middle of Yoga class. Today, as I adopted Child’s pose, I drooled onto my matt. Is that why they’re water-proof? Or does a more sinister fate await me? 😷 Just to be clear: I’m not a Drooler. I’m a Pacer; a Thumb-Biter (my own, usually), and have an annoying habit of, kind of, stroking, my own neck, but a Drooler, I am not. I watched the drool leave my mouth, as I locked eyes with my instructor. I knew she’d seen the drool. She knew I was hoping she hadn’t seen it. We shared a moment of Spiritually-enlightened understanding, before adopting Downward-facing Dog. 🐕 As we morphed into Humble Warrior, I noticed the slobber at the top of the matt, and in a feat of yogic agility, hid it beneath my sock. So far, so discrete. Until time came to relax into Cat pose, and my Yoga sock unrolled itself down my foot. My beatific Instructor smiled at the soggy mess of sock. Token Yoga-Boy, @scotthughesuk (the one who wears jeans and a belt to class), glanced over with, let’s say, a slightly judgmental, smirk. 😮 I removed my other sock as if engaged in an advanced Yoga technique, refusing to let a wardrobe malfunction compromise my Viparita Karani, and instead, concentrated on my breathing. Inhale. I felt the tickle leave my throat. Exhale. Eyes watering. Inhale. I spluttered to life, head like a fire hydrant, tip-toeing from the room as my Instructor mouthed concern. 🆘️ As I quietly choked under the cold tap, searching for deeper Spiritual meaning, I realized, the road to Nirvana is a shifting landscape. Its rich dichotomy led me firstly, to Fashion. Now, I was to surrender my Ego to humbleness. Join me next week, for our last lesson before Christmas, as I encounter Cyclops, anger a Genie, and do battle with a crew of Skeleton Warriors* * Or that might be Sinbad. My Spirit Guide.

For the first time I can remember, it’s cool to be Feminist. In fact, it’s a basic sign of evolution akin to the Opposable Thumb, and severely crushing on New York Times Political Correspondent, and frontline Feminist, @ronanfarrow 😍 During my 20’s, reading Girl Curriculum literature by the likes of De Beauvoir, Greer and Steinem, I felt compelled to challenge my world. And it was a challenge. The late 90s/early Noughties, (Naughty by name, etc) adopted Porn as Pop culture. 🥒 Lads’ mags featured adult actresses on front covers, no longer relegated to the top shelf. The Playboy brand became symbolic of empowerment. The fun response was to embrace it. Ladettes went to lap-dance bars, downed pints, and became Sexy Girl Heroes to the boys with the fantasy dollars. 💸💷💶💵💴💰 I was never going to be that girl, but there was nothing empowering about being a Feminist, either. It was something you were labeled as (by both men and women) to suggest you were a poe-faced, pain-in-the-ass, nobody wanted to fuck or be friends with, but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe everyone who enjoyed a bit of scantily-clad recreation was Misogynist. I found my freedom as I locked eyes with Ariel Levy’s, Female Chauvinist Pigs. 🐷 Levy explained, females were adopting misogynistic behaviours in an attempt to control their own exploitation. Ladettes were convinced the road to equality was sign-posted by Tits&Ass. But, who made those sign-posts? Who told us we were heading in the right direction Erm, duh. The Boys! 🤓 Good, hey? Give it a read if it’s your cuppa tea. 🤺

Nicholas Roeg. The Man Who Fell to Earth. 💙

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