Dear Unsealed,
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE
DARE TO DREAM
Since I am almost seventy-five
I will tell you a story of my life behind my eyes.
I was one to read music magazines,
All the boy bands and whims
Of rock and roll
Blues and soul
At the incredibly youthful age of ten.
Yes, I did begin to dream to win.
I worked hard.
Played hard.
I studied hard.
It was the seventies,
Then the eighties,
Then the nineties,
I worked at the LA Times in the eighties.
End of the eighties
I was working as a makeup artist.
And let us wind down there.
You might not have time to spare,
As I have thousands of stories to tell
As deep as a wishing well.
The nineties were good,
As I was forty going on twenty-five
As it seemed to a few bees in a hive.
My first dream job was The LA Times,
But I met a man and forgot to be sublime.
My second job per say
Happened in freelance journalism and film
With my new guy
And no rhyme at that time
I worked with The American Indian Movement in the nineties.
I met john Trudell,
And that went well.
We were there to interview
For a documentary film
The Palomino Club of North Hollywood
So, I have stood
In so many good places and even on a whim.
I met Sonny Bono, the Mayor of Palm Springs at a POW WOW
So how
Did I do that you say?
That is for another day.
I joined up with Women in Film
On a whim.
The nineties came along
To sing another song
I met another guy,
A music writer by trade.
My new guy took me to a special party
In Burbank,
To a Christmas party
Really swank.
I dressed up in fancy high heel boots
To walk by my guy in his suit
My dress was a tight mini skirt and top,
And all were cream of crop.
We drove there to the valet,
Then I walked into the door with my guy
Waving at friends in high places
We were sitting at our reserved table
To wine and dine at the insatiable
CMA
Country Music Association Christmas Party
Music, dancing, food, and ‘party hardy’.
I could go on to tell you more,
But I will say later my friend
Before you get bored.
MUSIC TURNS MY WORLD!
This is a tiny burst
Of my adventures of blurs
And good times
Of rhyme
Or reason
For the season!
Love is real
It’s a deal
Of the good, the bad, the ugly
Of time spans of decades
Of love, heartache, laughter, blues
Facades
Of time
To smile at my life
The strife
At almost 75
I have written a song
From my back pages of strife of life.
My song, “I Woke up Alone”
The song
Was published on Apple
A full song on Spotify
Of life, love from above
To be a woman at 75
Alive
Still rocking & rolling
To the beat.
The publication of my song
Was to say the least
My newest job of sweet sighs
Of “I did it.”

WHAT I LIKED MOST ABOUT MY YOUNGER SELF
Dear Unsealed,
A I look back in time
Of reason & rhyme,
I liked my persistence
Of whom I was in existence
Of time & space
In the rat race
Of life & dreams.
But it seems
I had to go through many changes,
In different decades of stepping into the light
Out of darkness to learn to rearrange,
Various aspects of learning to live
As an empath,
And not even knowing about what path
Was that?
My younger self grew up with my grandpa Boss
Until I was five years old.
After that he passed of a massive heart attack
So many years back
In time
Of reason & rhyme
I have been told,
Grandpa Boss was a writer & sculpturer
Of many lost works now.
He taught me to read & write from birth to age 3
When he was alive.
He called me the apple of his eye.
I would read his books of poetry
Of mostly religious beliefs of his mindset at that time
In my life of reason & rhyme
We would sit on the back porch
& we would talk for hours about how to carry the torch
Of art & creativity & beyond
To express feelings of joy, love, God & life
As I was so incredibly young.
I remember his trips to New York City to publish
His poetry of life, God & love.
I would rush
Into the living room to welcome
Grandpa Boss home from his long trip
From so far away across to the east coast &
away from me & Grandma Carrie Soleta.
My two favorite people,
Grandpa Boss taught me love the written word,
To express my feelings and sip
From the creative cup of cornucopia of life
As a writer of sorts &
Of course, my Grandma Carrie Soleta was a teacher,
Of creative words and the history of humanity.
She loved to sit with me on the piano bench,
As I played music of different chords
& style of religious, blues, rock, country
ETC.
My youthful days are reminisced by clouds and sunshine of that reality as a young child from birth until three years old when my grandpa passed. My grandma continued to nurture me in rhythm, reason & rhyme.
I realize that between my grandparents and my parents I am thankful for those human beings in the time of decades of my life.
At three I was young, naïve, carefree.
When my grandpa passed, I saw a huge dark cloud
Over my head as mom explained to me Boss was dead
In the flesh
But alive in the spirit in the clouds
Of heaven.
I remember my grandpa as a creative, kind person.
I was sad for a while as a little child.
But soon the sun would shine above the clouds of grief,
Of sadness and pain.
What was to remain,
Is this prose of mine
In this decade of my life
To remind me of the two
People who gave me joy & creative endeavors
Of reason, rhyme, & music, history
And to grieve through my music and books and art
Of everyday existence of all my decades
Of life as it fades
Into being old.
I used to respect my grandparents,
As they were my elders and so I was told,
They were wise and watching over me as I dream
And walk through my last decades
Writing & artistic creativity
To say to my peeps,

“Thank you, Grandpa Boss and Grandma Carrie Soleta,
For teaching me the ins & outs of my fate
To realize it is not too late
To continue with chapter 74 of my life,
To continue as I will soon be seventy-five.
Thank you my BFFS for always being there.

Dear Unsealed,
Today as I lay across my queen size bed,
As though the universe led
Me supernaturally to this phenomenal sad,
But a joyful photo of me and my dad.
I am a little Vic.
My poppa was a big Vic.
The photo was from long ago,
In my reality of the 1980s highs & lows
Of experiences in Hollywood &
Beyond with my dad, big Vic.
Time goes by so quickly,
Like a bite of an avocado
As I swallow the last bite.
My pop, Victor was my hero.
Vic was always my rock to lean upon.
No matter what I said or did,
In those days of growing up singing my song,
Vic was always there to teach me right from wrong
& to work hard, study hard, smile,
While all the while
You ‘wanna’ cry,
Ask why,
Or just hug the world
As you travel the road I chose.
My poppa Vic
Passed away as he was sick
With leukemia.
I was there by his side
To hold his hand as he died.
I bent over to kiss his forehead,
Telling him thank you for always having my back.
I now look at the photo
Faded from decades of dark & light.
My poppa Vic
With his baby girl, Vicki
As we sat at the celebration dinner party in LA.
I had rented a dress from a costume shop in Hollywood,
Judi Garland’s once upon old black sequin dress.
I wore my late Grandma Carrie Soleta’s beads,
I had cut my hair so black and short with waves,
To help me smile & celebrate the event.
That was so special that night.
I look at the old, faded photo,
I smile as I remember my big Vic,
My hero always there to catch me when fell
Or celebrate me when I stood up,
When he was there to pull me up,
“Sister, everything’s gonna be okay. A hundred years from now you will forget about it.”
“Yeah dad, in a hundred years we will be dead. So, forget about it.”
That was my poppa Vic!
Now I remember those words of inspiration alert
From big Vic.
I loved my poppa Vic,
My hero
I still feel him around
To keep me sound
& so,
This letter is dedicated to my late poppa Vic,
So handsome, so sweet
To everyone he would meet.
I dreamed of my big Vic & my mom, Thelma,
One-night years ago
Before I moved back to LA
2016.
I was living on the south Texas beach
With the Jekyll & Hyde dude.
Poppa Vic knocked on my bungalow door.
I opened it, “Dad, Mom, hello, OMG!
My poppa said, “Come with us sister.”
I stepped out the door
To leave that bungalow door
Adobe behind to never go there, nevermore.
We drove over the mountains, the desert,
To LA.
Then as I stepped out to pray
To thank God to be back in LA
After a long trip
With my poppa my late mom & late poppa Vic.
They disappeared like a puff of smoke
As I awoke
To daybreak.
Three months later I was on the train to LA
Over the deserts & mountains night & day.
I stepped off the train,
Kissed the ground, so glad to be back in LA.
My poppa, big Vic was there in spirit for me
To bring me home, no more to roam.
“I love you my poppa Vic.”

Fendi and Gucci are idolized
remaining sane is ostracized
when you stand up against the man, you will be demoralized
my pain runs deep like it’s crystallized
I can’t even front I became hypnotized
I can’t run forever, shit, I’ve already been traumatized
I’m in therapy, like bankruptcy to reorganize
my life changed when I prioritized the beautiful sunrise
it is in this time I came to analyze, and visualize my next sacrifice
I plan to live forever in this paradise

DEAR UNSEALED,
My ‘comfy peace zone
Is being alone,
Or with a friend
At the beach
As to reach
Out my hand to touch the wave,
To breathe at air, catch the wave,
With my toes embedded in the sand
As I walk in the forever beach land
I breathe in the positive icons of the ocean,
as they are a magic potion
of supernatural omnipotence of life
the life
of humans and all living creatures as they crawl
and walk, sleep, produce and create,
call
out to me,
“Come out to me, Vicki Lawana!”
I regroup at the beach,
Of which
It is a quiet place for prayer, solitude and throwing out
Negative icons to the breeze,
To the wind, the universe of time and space.
This is the case
Of confessions to the sea
From many stories of love, heartache, tears, joy
And laughter of past present and future to be
I look out at the ocean blue.
Listen to the seagulls too.
Although other humans are here
I have created a tiny little sphere
Of the atmosphere
Of light around my space
I sigh a bit.
I remember my youth days,
the 2am night drives to Malibu
Parking my car feeling blue
A romance gone awry, adrift, and away,
As I step out my car
Into the parking lot
In my special spot
I sigh.
Cause now I say, “No worries!”
All thoughts of grief & heartache
Dissipate
Into the ocean blue
Throwing my cares to the waves, the salty air
Of time & space
Not a waste
But a taste of salt and minerals seeping
Through my toes radiating through my whole body
Creating a flow of the case
Of joy and time & space reality
Of no more grief
Cause I feel the ocean spray
On my face
On my body
As I sink my barefoot toes in the sand
Of this LA land.
This is still my ‘comfy zone,
As it my time alone
To pray, to say
I am okay.

Dear Unsealed
Today I look forward to my life.
This decade I am 74 years old.
Not sure but had lots of strife.
So, I have been told.
I can say today,
As I relay or dream night and day
Of younger days and love and heartache
Of give and take,
This decade of clicking the box,
That says 70 +,
Such a fuss.
I am an elder with wisdom,
About life and love,
But somehow remain strong,
With reason and rhyme
Of space and time.
This is a time when I should have respect
From kid, grandkids, but
It does not always happen as I have kept.
Moving forward with time
Books and computers all that
I read, listen to music, write and all that.
This period in my life
I look back at relationships,
Loves, marching for equality for all,
And the concept of my fight for humanity
Love, peace, and light,
Are still not understood by certain people in my life.
I thought by this time
With reason and rhyme
They would understand my strife,
To create peace and love
Blessed from up above.
However, this is not so with certain people
But now I am old
I continue to be strong and bold.
I toss specks of salt
Over my right shoulder and left shoulder
To send peace to all
As I recall
Without humanitarians as I am
To tell folks it’s okay
Today
Tomorrow
Any day
I am to adventure to say
I do it my way
You do it your way.
I live one day at a time,
One moment at a time
Of reason and rhyme.
At 74 years old
I am still for peace and love,
Despite the folks who shut me down
All around town
I am woman.
Here me roar!
I have been down there on the floor,
Still an embryo
But I will be strong, progressive,
To move forward in time
With reason and rhyme
I am considered to be an old lady.
I can dye my hair pink.
Or gold or red.
Or whatever I choose,
Its okay today

“A TIME WHEN I DID NOT GIVE UP ON MY WRITING, MUSIC, AND ART”
DEAR UNSEALED,

I have many times,
In my life of 74 years of rhyme
And reason roadblocks
of people have said to me, “What?”
I struggled as a woman, born in 1949,
Of the boomer generation of time.
I was told I could not do this and that,
Tit for tat,
I proved them wrong,
As I write my songs
Of life’s journey
To eternity
And beyond the box thinking of patterns of life
As I continue my strife
At 74 years old
I have been told.
I survived many love relationships,
Time after time sailing the ships,
Across the clouds, the sea, the mountains of earth
As I tread on a new birth
Of still writing and creating art of sorts
Of time and space, of course.
I worked two or three jobs to go to college,
To obtain knowledge.
I attended a Microsoft coding class at 51.
That was my finale with that one.
Being told as a young woman I could not do that,
By certain people who did not know squat about that.
I struggled all my life with a positive attitude,
Of a subdue,
Nature of hiding my tears and feeling blue
As I walked on upon life’s path so true.
Despite my broken relationships with narcissistic pigs
I kept on walking to all my gigs.
Life moves forward along the journey,
Of many miles of this wild child.
Still eccentric, eclectic, boho hippie style
Of peace and love despite the tactics of so many trials
Of work, play, study, and broken narcissistic relationships in my life.
I still believe in me.
Let it be.
Me as a woman in the last decades of my life
And all the strife
I believe in rainbows, angels, and light,
Not to fright
The weary of treading through the jungle of the night,
But to look around at music, art, writing, and light.
I will not give up on my new goals,
Of this old soul
As I tread on with my writing, music, and art,
To make a new start
At 74
And as before
I tread through the desert, the storm,
Of life after so close to death as I was warned
After Long Covid attacked my organs and whatever it could
I survived major abdominal surgery at 72 in 2022.
I still want to live in a paint bucket of words and colors, as I should,
not give up,
Even when finances are low,
And still with health issues of dietary needs
I still drink from the cup of the mustard seed,
As my late Grandma Carrie Soleta implied,
“You are my baby girl, and you will survive.”
My faith is still strong,
As I sing life’s songs
Of blues, laughter, and survival
Of the known and unknown
Of life’s songs upon the sand to the beach
And along
It is faith in my creator and that mustard seed parable,
Teaching from my late Grandma Carrie Soleta.

Dear Unsealed,

Why do i love myself begins with why do I need to accept myself as the first step in why we are all here as human beings on Earth.

Growing up in a patriarchal society there were many times I hated myself. I grew up fast and looked like a woman at 11 years old. So, let us see that it was then 1961.

Now I am 74 years old and not sure if I would go so far to say I love myself, but I do like myself. So, I will engage in why I am my own best friend. I am learning to love myself.

The spirit of learning to accept oneself as themselves is tricky. As human beings we are always comparing ourselves to other people. We want their body shape, or their wardrobe or face and body characteristics. The first process in learning to accept oneself is to not compare oneself to another human. We are all unique in body form, speech, clothes style, food tastes and how our brains reflect upon everyday activities and our personality styles.

I like myself because I like my DNA of worldly all over the globe style. I like myself because I do not live in a boxy world of thinking. I live outside the box. I like myself because I love to wear boho flower child clothes as well as my décor must be boho. I like myself because I have a well-rounded education in different professions. I am a multi-tasker. I love music, art, writing, movies, computers, photography, and life.

I have learned to accept my empathic abilities. This was not an overnight decision, due to being an empath with high sensitivity is seen as a weakness by bullies and other controlling personalities. I love my vivid dreams that I have nightly. I dream of faraway places, new people, and environments. That is strange to many people. It is a gift from my ancestors. I love that gift that was passed down from ancestors and the Universe. I sometimes see spirits and I also have learned to relish this gift.

I love my crazy curly long hair. I just love to try new color gels on my hair. To some people it is a crazy thing to do. To me it has been normal since I was a teenager. To others it is a shame I do not act my age. Since I was told that as a young teenager, I figured out what they meant to say is do not do anything that irritates them. If we as one human being listened to every negative comment mentioned to us, we would sit in a corner just staring at nothing because that is where the haters and narcissists want everyone to be that does not think like them. However, I focus on positive critique not negative opinions. I like myself because of faith and concentration on healing and light.

I love to talk about healing, love, and light to everyone. I was told by a person who scolded me for loving the light and healing, “Oh you always want to love everyone. You will soon learn not to do that.” I did not listen to that remark. I remember that remark but considered it to be nothing.

I love myself now as I think about my resilience to bounce out of depression and illness. At 74 years old I survived long Covid and major surgery and almost dying. My philosophy of love, light, healing, and peace was expanded after the illness into another realm of living with empathic gifts.

If we as human beings learn to have a good relationship with each other instead of forcing others to walk and talk like the hater, then humanity would be at peace not war. However, that is a fairytale of sorts that we as empaths and healers must take with a grain of salt.

I have also learned that the more one listens to haters the more one will hate themselves just as much as the haters hate themselves. So, now I love myself as I complete this letter to explain why I love myself. I cannot be anyone else nor can anyone else be me.

I believe learning to love oneself can be difficult especially if one is depressed. I have a wonderful therapist who gets me.

May we as a human being species learn to love one another as we are unique, eccentric individuals who were created by the Universe to live and breathe on Earth.

I remember a song I used to sing to myself in the 70s as I marched for equal rights, “I am Woman, Watch me Roar.”

Sincerely,

Dear Unsealed,

My favorite day in 2023.
I was still recovering from major surgery on May 2, 2023.
I remember that day so well as we
All will remember the day in Sacramento, Cali.
The early flight as early in the am as it could be.
This was my first outing since my surgery in April 2022.
I was honored to be chosen to lobby,
For women’s rights here in Cali.
We met senators, all other elected officials of the beat,
of the capital of Cali.
My first outing had to be dramatic of course,
As this was my first travel of the year
To concur I celebrate May 2, 2023
As happy as I could be,
To spread light, love and peace for equality.
It was a full day of speeches and shaking hands,
Of important peeps as well as the immediate company,
Of my sisters, who flew over with me.
We flew back to Ontario airport.
To confirm our day was complete.
I was happy I must report.
That was fun and work and play,
On my favorite on May 2, 2023
That’s all I have to say about my day.

Sincerely,
Vicki Lawana Trusselli
December 21, 2023

Dear Unsealed,
My goals for 2024 are somewhat different that in 1990 or 2007. I am 74 years old. I know my goals are different apparently because I am older and the fact, I survived long covid and the effects on my body and major surgery. I almost died April 2022. However, I am alive. I am a Virgo, Leo moon rising, born on the cusp of Libra. I shall talk about more subtle goals than I would have at 20, 30, 40, 50, 0r 60.
My goals are:
1. To remain healthy as possible.
2. To remain alive.
3. To continue my freelance writing and photography.
4. To continue to spread love and light.
5. To perhaps make a little extra money to help with bills.
6. To always see my doctor.
7. To continue my gluten free, lactose free diet as much as possible.
8. To walk more, swim if the weather permits.
9. To continue my meditation practices.
10. To analyze what I am doing and what another person means with their words as they speak to me or other people.
11. To cut back on clothes, shoe spending on Wish and Temu.
12. Be kind but not vulnerable the full 12 months of 2024.
I will wake up every morning to the sound of music playing through Google Mini or Alexa. I will remember my vivid dreams of people, places, things to write down the specifics of my dreams to create stories of inspiration, but to not forget that inspiration is a part of a negative experience to be brought out into the light. I will take care of my health and continue to think young. I will continue my political activist positions regarding human rights, women’s rights, LBGTQ rights, voting rights and democracy for all.
My goal to spread light, love and peace may sound repetitive to some people, but to me it is my most important goal for 2024 and beyond. Without peace, love, and light there would be continuous wars and evil wrongdoing in our society. So, there needs to be more people involved in this goal. Equality and human rights are not political as they are a humanitarian society procedure, not political.
I will spread light and love through my writing and photography with periodic checks of analyzing the good, the bad, the ugly in all facets of life on Earth.

Sincerely,

Vicki Lawana Trusselli
December 21, 2023