ruminations, machinations, deliberations & imaginations

Bitch, I’m Madonna

Madonna's BootsMadonna's Boots

Spring Shades


Cosmopolitan + Snapchat meets Snapchat from Tara Rice on Vimeo.

50 Shades of Grey Cosmetics





Quick Draw — Experiments with Ink


Quick Draw — Experiments with Ink

experiment with ink


Curiouser & Curiouser…

What the hell was that? The warm electric waves running up my arm to my brain are such an unfamiliar feeling that my first instinct is to drop the stone immediately, resulting in a kind of single-handed juggling act as I replace it on the shelf. It’s a smoky crystal that I had absentmindedly palmed while trying on the jewelry that surrounding it. Was it just a trick of the brain or was all that crystal nonsense that one hears about true? My first exposure made me not want a second… but it is also shiny and pretty, so that my other senses created a need to possess it.

It isn’t as beautiful as all the things around in in this strange dark shop. The room is run by a jewelry collective who had added a myriad of bazaar and occult items to their shop. Between the silverworks marked with pentagrams, there are taxidermied rodents frozen in their final fright. There are white statuettes of a bygone era, with there faces replaced by the exotic animals one would imagine mounted on the wall of their parlor. Twisted gothic chess pieces, rings that turn human fingers into savage claws and silverware merged with octopi tales—whatever the darkest places in your imagination could envision, it might manifest here.

I picked the stone up and felt the cool weight of it in my palm once more, waiting to see if I had simply let my imagination run away with me. A slow warmth began to build again until my whole arm tingled with the sensation. I turn it over to examine the sticker tacked to the bottom and bring it to the willowy black-clad blonde with dark eyes at the counter.

“I’m taking it,” I say.

“You sure are” she replies.

Elevator TMI

“You first,” he said allowing me to enter the elevator before him. “You look like you have somewhere to be.”

I give him a small smile and nod in thanks and step in to the cramped metal box. Once securely inside the doors slide shut, and the ruddy-faced stranger and I are alone as we begin our decent.

“I lost my job yesterday,” he says out of the blue. “So I’m in no hurry. That’s why I’m at the gym this morning.”

I quietly respond “Well if you’re going to have some free time at least it’s the right time of year. It’s really gorgeous out.”

“That or my boss is a complete asshole and knows no one can find a new job in summer.”

I fall into an awkward silence and pray we are almost to the lobby.

The Painting


Strange little ship, Bobbing in the sea, I looked into a painting, But all I saw was me

I saw it in the thrift shop auction window and knew I had to have it. I impatiently waited for the clock to wind down to slip in my bid at the last second so I knew no one would trump my bid. Mine, like Gollum has found her precious. The painting wasn’t a great masterpiece or anything but it captured me for some reason, this strange symmetrical ship floating in a mist of blue and grays. It was from a tryptic series but the others like it in different hues just did not call to me the same way. Who’s to say why an image may strike a cord with one viewer and not with the next. Maybe I related to the little ship, maybe I sometime feel like it’s a my portrait truer than a depiction of my face. Maybe I see some truth of my insecurities, seemingly lost alone in a haze on the open sea, in a calm before a storm, waters slightly rippling maybe suggesting a unseen turbulence churning beneath it’s surface. Or maybe it just reminded me of home and family, the coast where I spent so many grey years walking in the fog along the boat yards. Maybe I just like the calm meditative feeling I have when I look at it, the stillness, the symmetry of having neither the path ahead nor the path behind be a sharp fixation, a reminder that all that matters is the moment.


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