...Halloweekend & Colonial Skeletons...

Skeleton horses with the spooky (red) Peyton Randolph House in the background

“Anyone could see

that the wind was a special wind this night,

and the darkness took on a special feel

because it was All Hallows' Eve.

Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet

or gold or orange velvet.

Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys

like the plumes of funeral parades.

From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.”

~ Ray Bradbury, The Halloween Tree

Eeek! Don't look behind you!

This isn’t the Halloween that I had planned in my mind; it isn’t even the October that I had planned. But, I am a follower of ol’ JC, that’s Joseph Campbell, and try to practice and give in to the following quote: “We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

Instragram myself into a ghost-like apparition

I fell on the train; then, I got a terrible cold. I was pretty sure that my entire weekend/month was ruined but then I took care of myself *gasp*, actually allowed myself to slow down and rest, slept a great deal, and then started feeling better just in time to head to Colonial Williamsburg for a second anniversary/ Halloween weekend.

New Colonial Skeleton friend

Friday was a super hectic day at work and I had an early Amtrak ticket home so that my fella and I could drive approximately an hour to Colonial Williamsburg. We arrived just in time for dinner and then drinks with my fella’s friends who also happened to be in town. Saturday night was the Curse of the Sea Witch event that I will write about in more detail later. Sunday was a relaxing day with a touch of melancholy because the weekend was ending.

I had looked forward to this weekend for months. Once it arrived, I wanted it to last forever. In the end, I hung out with my best friend (that would be my fella) and had another great Colonial Williamsburg experience.

Colonial Williamsburg Spirits

Here’s toasting to another year of marriage and the happiest of Halloweens to you!  

gothidays memories...the wedding that never was...

For the fourth day of Gothidays I’m focusing on Winter Solstice.

Last year I was thinking of Winter Solstice because my fella and I had been planning to marry on solstice day. Of course, life happened and we ended up marrying in October which was *my dream*, not necessarily his.

To know me is to know that I LOVE holidays! And as a huge Bing Crosby fan (I know! That’s so very goth, right! ;P ) I love the movie Holiday Inn. When my fella and I decided to get married, a quick Google search took me to one of the top destination wedding locations in Virginia, The Holladay House Bed & Breakfast.  Pretty much because of the name (the closest thing to a Holiday Inn like the movie), I knew this was where we were going to get married. 

A Winter Solstice wedding had been important for him because he liked the idea of getting married on the darkest of days (or at least more hours of the day being in darkness) and being able to weather that together. When I think of the solstice, I think of winter white and icicles. I did not want to wear white so I opted for red. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I realize that is more of a Christmas color but when I think of nature during the winter, I think red berries and green fir, spruce, and even Wintergreen barberry. I have to admit that while it was supposed to be a Winter Solstice themed wedding, I am a Christmas girl and planned to bring a bit more of the Christmas spirit to the wedding that my fella had probably hoped. I even made a Christmas ornament bouquet that I think turned out beautifully considering I had no idea what I was doing. In my defense, doesn’t the Christmas season derive from the Solstice season?!? Or something like that ;D

I didn’t end up wearing my red dress. In fact, it’s still unaltered hanging in my closet but I’m not supposed to give it away because it would hurt my fella’s heart. We have sooo many anniversaries, and one of them is the anniversary of the day in this parallel world where we did marry. My ornament bouquet which I had considered selling because in my opinion it did turn out quite good still sits in my office in a plastic bag because of that parallel universe. I should probably shadow box it. You can see the dress and also our wedding and bridal portraits by the talented artist Abigail Larson in my post … the ghosts of Christmas (Winter Solstice) wedding future….

These are by Lisa at MiaettiaCreations’ on Etsy. I had seen some of her Custom Wedding Hair Clips & Boutonnieres on Off Beat Bride and on Pinterest. She makes these beautifully elaborate hair pieces out of paper. Most of her creations are flowers. Her spider originally caught my eye and perhaps I will contact her to see if she would be willing to do a custom order of a Christmas spider. Her Dia Los Muertos Wedding hair clip skull caught my eye and after that I knew I needed a custom order.

I ordered two hair clips for my friend and me, and a boutonniere for my best man. I ended up adding my hair clip to my bouquet which fit into my Halloween wedding just fine and because the wedding only included my fella and me, I ended up keeping all of the MiaettiaCreations pieces. They’re now in a shadowbox.  

Lisa included a Harold Pinter poem around the edge. I think it resonates with my relationship.

"I know the place.
It is true.
Everything we do
Corrects the space
Between death and me
And you.”
~ Harold Pinter

Celebrating what would have been our wedding night (Winter Solstice) with my fella.                                            Every girl should get to wear her bat veil at least twice ^o^

Now on the Winter Solstice, my fella and I celebrate our anniversary-that-might-have-been. To the left is a picture of my outfit for last year's celebration. We returned to the Bed & Breakfast where we were married and even ate at the same restaurant. 

... correcting the space- the anniversary post...

I know the place.

It is true.

Everything we do

Corrects the space

Between death and me

And you.”

                              ~ Harold Pinter

Today is our anniversary (at 4pm today last year I married my fella!) Because it’s a school night, we went out to dinner on Saturday night. Our plans changed slightly. We stayed in town which was much more sensible considering this semester. I’m actually going to a funeral tomorrow so I won’t be going in to work. Tonight we’ll just hangout and not do much.

My fella and I don’t follow traditional gift-giving customs. We don’t give holiday or anniversary presents since we give each other gifts throughout the year. We do like to share events and even dining out is an event to us. We both eat rather slowly and we enjoy talking. We often notice other couples racing through their meals… or at least it seems that way to us. Of course, we were each the last family member in our families to finish eating a meal.

On Saturday night we went to The Melting Pot, a fondue chain restaurant that can be a bit pricey as a family-member notes, “for a restaurant where you have to cook your own food.”  The Melting Pot has become one of our dining traditions. We order a bottle of wine and take our time. Our dining experience is always 2 ½ hours easily but it is time without texting others or being distracted by social media and life.

Even when we’re alone and I’ve made breakfast at home, we sit and talk for hours until the food and coffee is cold. We still have so much to say and learn. I look forward to being with him daily.

... holding on, containing and letting go...

To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower;

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And eternity in an hour.

………………………………………

 Joy and woe are woven fine, 

A clothing for the soul divine. 

Under every grief and pine 

Runs a joy with silken twine.

                                               ~William Blake (1757-1827), "Auguries of Innocence"

For various reasons, I’ve been taking a stroll down Nostalgia Lane these last few days. With all my life changes, it seems poetic to softly gaze over one’s shoulder at the past. I also received some unexpected messages that were reminders. Even my last post mentioning my first love has me reflecting on yesteryears. And of course, there was Poe’s returned love story that makes one ponder just a wee bit.

Some of this leads down a path I’m not so proud of but in this age of social media and the interwebs haven’t we all tiptoed into lands not quite protected to gaze at the spiders who can’t tell they’re being watched? I’m sure you too have peeped a time or two. So I crept through a maze channeling my younger self’s memory of names that haven’t been spoken in decades only to find a picture showing that the shell of what was had changed immensely. In fact, I wouldn’t have recognized him if it were not for the place right around his eyes. He wasn’t looking directly at the camera and while nothing looked like what I remember, there was that sense that he, somewhere, was still there…somewhere… perhaps contained deep within. Without going into detail because goodness I wasn’t supposed to be where I was, he had changed in more than outer appearance. His identity, the one that I knew, was altered in a way that from my reading of that one picture shows that he let go. And I don’t mean that he let himself go either. It’s hard to explain while remaining private but he seemed to have stopped being who he wanted to be/ who he once was.

All of this started me thinking about how we become who we are, and how we hold on to who we are in spite of how hard living can be. People say that being goth is a phase. There are plenty of us who prove that this isn’t always the case. But it makes me think about those of us (because I had to for a time) who had to let go of our clothing or look just to function at work or among our peers or family…whatever the reason, it was just easier to let go and try to be someone else, or at least hide who you actually are. I’m so grateful that I returned to Me, that I’m no longer trapped being inauthentic in a fake life. But how many of us have let go and have never returned?  Maybe they’ll never return.  So when I look at the picture, I’m not thinking about the weight he put on (haven’t we all put on some pounds and aged and etc.), but I’m wondering what happened to him after I knew him so well. What was it that changed him? Was life hard for him? Would he put on a happy face? Would he be the same? I don’t think this has to be an awful thing. Sometimes letting go is simply letting go. Sometimes we let go for our loved ones.

 

I typically choose to hold on… to memories, to connections, to inanimate objects… even to my hair that was in awful need of a trim. (Because of this, I had to opt for a chop just to get my hair back to healthy.)  I had a piece of my wedding veil preserved in a heart pendant with glitter (by ModJules on Etsy.)  It arrived this week and I’m wearing it close to my heart.  After drying my bridal bouquet, I placed my much loved bouquet in a jar. Similarly, I put my fella’s boutonniere from the wedding into a snow globe sans water so that we can gaze upon it without disturbing the petals.  

In my interweb prowling, I came across this quote:

“You’re just another story I can’t tell anymore.”― I Wrote This For You

A poignant line about letting go… perhaps to get back to healthy.