PLEASE NOTE

I hope you enjoyed reading this blog. All further updates- postings of my work(s)- news- random thoughts- and 'stuff' will be posted to;

http://tillyrivers.wordpress.com

Hope you come by sometime.

Much love

~T~

ANGER

Anger
tilly rivers

We can all dwell on what we conceive to be as unfair in life. Let the power of that misery eat and absorb who we are until we no longer feel or even resemble the person we were once. We can all sit and let that anger, that bitterness of why me, filter into every pore, every fiber of us until we are comforted in our misery, in our pain.Until we are justified within ourselves to feel the way we do. Until we no longer see anything, or anyone without first seeing the ugliness.

Anger, sadness, negative emotions and thoughts will never get me what and where I want, but following my own path will -Challenges lead to positive results. I have learned that by nurturing love and it will nurture me.

I believe that if you behave in the goodness of the universal energy and treat those around you with sincerity and kindness a path will be marked with the success of what is right. I AM ME. I will NOT be taken down a path that does not belong to me.

How easy is it to give up? To give in? To let the negative parts of life win.
Why? Why do we let fear eat us alive until we no longer become who and what we are?

Perfection

Perfection is not in what is perfect, it's in the imperfections-reality-truth

It is obstacles defeated, mars of the body, dents in the soul

Perfection is in the ability to see above,beyond and over, what others may view as damaged

Perfect to me is being real, true to yourself, not about image

Not about the illusion of what you want to show-Not about the perfect face, the careful mask

The flawless make up

Perfect is about the courage to be confident with every scar showing

Through My Eyes. Photos by Tilly Rivers, Entry #3

Tilly Rivers, © Copyright 2011

Last Snowflake

What if this was your last snowflake- What would you see?-What would you do?

Would you cry for the magic of nature’s beauty? -Would you smile at life so fleetingly here than gone?-Would laugh as you held it in your hand?

-Would let it melt and tickle against the palm of your hand?-What if?

What if this was the last time you ever saw?-Winter magic almost gone?-What if this was your last snowflake?

Through my Eyes, entry #2

When was the last time you dare to be touched with the power of winter magic?

Ready? It is time to start…go...have fun....

Take your life back

"Winter Magick" Photo taken by Tilly Rivers.

Life

Life

Copyright © 2011 Tilly Rivers

They know the magic of life as they sat, stood, watched… inside the depths of the water.

To them stories of untold dreams, treasures and secrets were still possible. The dragons of yesterday, the purity of today and the enchantment of tomorrow.

They know.

They see beyond reality to a life as its most precious, life before society deems it appropriate to add limits, boundaries and white wash.

I am one of those in whom have escaped the talons of society's dogma. I have stayed in the realm enchantment, possibility and sensual lure .

This is my life. Precious. Sensual. Pure.

Come…

take my hand…

journey into a life…

seen through my eyes…

one picture at a time

Making a difference- the pledge. I pledge- do you? I challenge you

Making a difference- the pledge. I pledge- do you? I challenge you

by Tilly Rivers on Wednesday, January 12, 2011 at 4:03pm

I challenge you to the 'reuse fashion' pledge" here are the rules and the signed pledge form. Pass along!

REUSE: The Pledge

I TILLY RIVERS pledge that I shall abstain from the purchase of "new" manufactured items of clothing, for the period of 2 months. I pledge that i shall refashion, renovate, recycle preloved items for myself by purchasing only what I need from a used clothing store, or make the item myself, for the term of my contract. I pledge that I will share the love and post a photo(s) of my refashioned, recycled, crafted or created item of clothing on my blog (s), here on Facebook- or other on line venues so that others may share the joy that reusing brings, and show the world how easy it is to make a difference, 'going green' to help the environment!

Signed "Tilly Rivers"

The Rules

1.

• No buying new! (handmade- or used only) All clothing must be Recycled, Renovated, Preloved or Thrifted, or Handmade only for the term. Employment related and special needs clothing (ie sports,) shoes and undies are not part of the "used / home made" rules.

• 2.

  In extreme circumstances, maybe a special event, or the worlds greatest and most amazing never to be repeated sale that you simply can not pass up, you may use the Get out of Refashionista Jail Free card. You are able to use this card once during the 2 month part of your contract. Of course you need to fess up on the blog and display what you bought so the world can judge for itself if it was indeed a 'fashion-must-have' emergency.

• 3.

  You must post on you blog(s), Facebook or other on line venues at least once a week to let the community know what you've been up to. This will not only give you brag points, but inspire and encorouge others!

• 4.

  You need to be honest and admit when you've fallen off the Refashionista Wagon! And suffer the 'comments' that your actions caused.

Dark Side

Note from the author:

The dark side has fascinated us all. A little piece of who we are, the side we try so hard to hide, conceal, disguise.

Yet from time to time when we think no one is watching or when the lights are out and we are alone with only our inner selves we wonder…

What if?

What if the dark side is true?

What if I could truly let go and no one would ever know?

What if I could explore if only for a moment the bewitching sirens that are calling me?

What if for just a second I could be one with the dark side?

Come....

Let me show you- for just a moment

It's okay- you're hidden from sight..no one will see..no one will know

...... the dark side

~~~~~ Tilly Rivers ~~~~~

to be continued

That Tilly Rivers girl...

Tilly Rivers

CEO / CFO aka “Chief Rain Maker”

Email: tilly at mainstreetmagazine dot net

Who Is Tilly Rivers?

Celebrity best-selling author.

Rivers has 14 published works, nine of which hit the best selling list.

Her career boosts of several hundred writing awards, thousands of honourable mentions, and she has gained celebrity status in the who’s-who world of the rich and famous.

Her name, and profile are world renown.

For a short time Rivers hosted two of her own radio shows, gaining her the “2008 Sexiest Radio Voice of the Year Award.”

Rivers owned an operated a successful publishing company for several years-- before closing the publishing company she opened Rain Enterprises Inc.

Rain Enterprises new adventure is “Main Street Magazine,” which launched in 2009, a proud part of the Rain Enterprises Inc group.

Rivers also dabbled in the modeling world for a short time. Her love of life includes sky diving, hiking, swimming, taking pictures and you guessed it…writing!

Qualifications

Rivers not only thinks outside the box, she thinks outside the ‘circle’ her ability to create success after success mystifies most. Could it be because she is a marketing and business honours graduate? Understands the creative processes of Advertising? Has ten plus years in the role of CEO? Maybe it is her Mensa IQ of 174? Perhaps it is her humour or her charm and beauty? ~giggles~Whatever the reason, you are in good hands!

Day Off

As a work-a-holic; Rivers rarely has a day off. If you catch her relaxing, it would most likely be in a hammock, with the latest business, philosophy or new age book such as “The Secret” in her hands with a glass of red wine at the ready. She enjoys spending time with her family, friends, and two dogs and cat.

Entry 5

My Name is Matilda, The Tilly Rivers Story
Copyright, Tilly Rivers, 2010
Entry # 5



Country Girl |City Girl
I grew in rural Bruce County. Tilly of the Bruce, I was recently dubbed by a friend. At one point in my life, saying I was a country girl was followed with a shudder of horror. Ironic really how your life comes full circle, and while you think you are changing and growing, you seem to come back to your roots.

Change is good, growth is natural, that is not what I mean, I mean where once you thought something was a horrible mess, when you go back in a different time- you, if you are lucky, see it differently. You know, like when you were a kid you hated vegetable X- but now as an adult- it's not so bad.

I went to the same public school with for the most part the same class mates, from kindergarten to grade eight. I both loved and hated school. I loved that I was smart, I hated that my fellow students, and yes even some of the teachers were mean to me. I was the outsider, the poor kid. We weren't farmers, we just lived in the country, all my neighbours that were farmers went to the catholic school, I went to the public school. Not that-that mattered, as we never associated with the neighbours.

My friends were also the outsiders, the cast off freaks that were either in the special learning class, or even poorer then we were, which would of been a shock to anyone.

Do not get me wrong, both of my parents worked, and worked hard. My Dad worked at the same factory for 20 years before it closed the doors one day and he found himself looking for another job. I was about four when that happened and he went to work for a construction company.

And in the seventies construction workers were not making the big bucks, with a union back up, at least not where my father worked. Remember we lived in a town that had a population of 25. ~smiles~ okay, maybe a little bit bigger, but it was not large, it was a small...what is the word, certainly not town, even smaller than a village...and correction, we lived outside of the, oh hell, lets say town. The true population could not of been more than 250 people.

The town was called Carlsrhue. It was an odd location, the address was rural route number for Hanover, while we lived in Bruce County smack dab between Walkerton and Mildmay.

My Mom picked up odd jobs where ever she could- from a bakery to a maid-another tsk-tsk mark for me at school, most of the country moms did not work outside of the farm...unless it was to be a teacher, or a career..see where I am going with this? I just didn't fit in- town kid- nope- rich farm kid-nope- catholic or go to church- nope.

And here is where I should tell you that both of my parents loved the Christian God very much, they read their bible, prayed, and believed, had faith. So, yeah, Mom more so than Dad, Dad walked a fine line between Christian and what he knew he felt within him. The reason that they did not go to church was that they were not married, but living together, at least until 1964, after living together for almost twenty years, they married.

They kept that little living together secret to themselves for many-many years. We were adults before that secret surfaced. But that is another story.

I had- according to the judgement throwers- way too many siblings--like there was such a thing as birth control-and it was okay for the Catholics to have 50 kids- that was cool, but us- no-no- hypercritical mother fuckers. My father worked construction, and my mother took on less than glamourous jobs. We lived in a closed minded judgemental area, with little to no jobs.

I did not fit in even more. I was always too tall for my body, or so I thought growing up all arms and legs and awkward. No gracefulness at all, I would trip and fall, walk into things. At the time I had no idea I had an issue with depth perception, I was just the geeky--poor--too tall-- blonde- kid that tripped over things.

So did I have boyfriends? Are you kidding me?! You did not have boyfriends unless you wanted teased and tortured, and come on, the meter marked Tilly Torture in school was already at the red zone, of course then it was “Mickie Rivers”

A miracle happened that changed my life. My Dad was offered a job in the city. Okay, so it was a city to me, Orangeville. And the miracle part? He took it! My Mom thought I would be upset leaving the only house I knew, grew up in- that I would miss my school friends- I WASN'T! I was overjoyed. I hated my first year of high school at WDSS, as much as my years at public school, I could not wait to get the fuck out of there!

Another miracle happened that year too, I grew into my arms and legs that summer. I will never forget the first day of school in Orangeville, walking down the hallway- It was the same me, yet everyone, especially the boys, noticed me.

I was five feet nine and half inches tall, I was skinny--fit I guess is the word, I had killer curves, and great boobs. I was no longer the awkward geeky kid- I was a knock out!

While I loved it, my Dad was not at all thrilled, but then again, we all know how Dads protect their baby girls.

I had one shiny spot growing up, her name was Wanda. My Dad and her step-Dad were best friends, but Wanda's family moved around a lot, and I did not get to see her as often as I wished I could, and not as often as I needed, but the times when we were together were the best.

We would pretend-everything--from dressing our Barbie dolls up and pretend to be the next great fashion designers- and models- to singing into the handle of a hair brush, and being the next best singers with adoring fans.

For the record- I can't sing. Truly- ear plugs are required, but Wanda could, she had a sweet voice.

The first time I was drunk was with Wanda. The first time I was at a bar (under age) was with Wanda, the first time I went to an “R” rated movie (under age) was with Wanda. She was my beacon, and I love her.

Over the years due to family dynamics and religious rifts, we have grown apart, but one day, I am taking her to karaoke and we will be singers again- and we will drink vodka and orange juice- as that was what we drank when we were 13 (still living in the country at that time) and got sloshed out of our heads. This is one item on my bucket list that I have not completed yet.

Over the years, my life took many twists and turns, and I moved to a bigger city- and a bigger one, loving them, and every sight, smell, and adventure they offered- I discovered I was a city girl. But not before I went though a lot of heart ache and abuse, because first I had to survive my marriage, and I almost didn't, as I tried to commit suicide.

Looking back I realize now that two things happened in my past that created the attraction to my x-husband, which happened shortly after moving to Orangeville.
Not sure if I mentioned that I met him when I was fifteen, and he was twenty-one- yeah alarm bells should of went off- and if they did I did not get the message--- and by the time I was sixteen I had a baby and was married, but we will get into that later.

The two things were- 1- I had no self esteem, after being beat down as a girl, feeling like the ugly duckling for so long, to have an older- and what I thought was a much cooler guy paying attention to me was awesome. BIG mistake. -2-I lived a very sheltered life at home as well, my parents and siblings never talked to me about sex, or where babies came from- fuck, when I had my first period I was to embarrassed to even tell anyone- and no one, not my sisters, or my mom told me what to do, I had to learn it on my own and from a friend.

As I am writing this, I realize that I am skimming the surface, but there was nothing surface like at that time of my life. It was a horrible experience, I had no one to talk to about it. My sisters were so much older than I was, they were doing there own thing with lives of their own, making babies and families of there own. My brothers were, well, boys and we just never talked about that sort of stuff. I couldn't go to my Mom, she thought everything was okay, and I would not of hurt her for the world, and while I could of talked it over with my Dad, I didn't because I knew within me that it would hurt his pride, that he would take it as a mark against him, and I would of rather died than hurt him.

I learned as a child that I was the protector, and I swallowed all and anything handed to me for the greater good of others. It was wrong, but I did what I did and I am not beating myself up about it, I just wanted my family to be happy, protected and loved, and so I pretended school was fine- I pretended I was fine- and when I married- I pretended that was fine as well.

All of us have memories of a bully- or not fitting in- of kids being cruel, it happens today, but that was not the worse part for me, it was some of the teachers. Teachers not only educate, they shape you. And for some of them to be mean, even cruel- is an evil act. What could a child possible do to anyone to deserve evil? Shame on you- shame on for your cruel, lying mouths!

Everything was used for me, hand-me-downs and last in line. I hated that the most. Cast offs. I did not know what new was, let alone a brand name or a label. I remember when I was about eight...like a scene in a movie...I was happy, I had a new dress, it was frilly and pink- and me- (I still love being a girl- and am a true girlie/girl)-I went to the washroom- and two grade eight girls came in. They did not know I was in the washroom stall, and one of them was telling the other that the dress I had on use to be her little sisters.

I am not sure where I got the courage to come out of the bathroom stall and face those two girls- I just stood there, and they did have the good grace to look embarrassed. That night I went home, took off that dress and tore it to shreds. I made a vow to myself right then and there, that somehow, someway, I would be different. I would not be poor, I would not go without, and I would never-ever feel like I felt that day again.

And didn't I just make that happen! Of course I walked straight into the arms of a wolf in sheeps clothing first. I thought school was hell? It was nothing compared to my marriage.

Marriage. Husband. Even now the words bring a ball of bile to the base of my throat. Terms that should be regarding love, endearment and respect, not a nightmare that would put the best Hollywood writers to shame.

The words meant falsehood, pain and self stupidity. They meant brain washing and anger and rape. They mean humiliation, hurt and a starving soul. They meant darkness, alone and escape.

All I wanted was escape.

To be continued in Entry # 6

Entry- 4- My name is Matilda, continues

My Name is Matilda, The Tilly Rivers Story

Copyright, Tilly Rivers, 2010

Entry # 4

Me- the Poet

I have currently , four published poetry books, I have, however, probably a million poems. I am blessed to be able to express how I feel in a poem, and blessed even more that my poems touch and are loved by others.

My poetry collection“Just the Way It Is “was written in 2004 after my father passed away. The poem “floating” has been reprinted over 5 million times, and translated in five different languages. My father is my life, and I miss him beyond measure!

As I am writing this, I feel as if I am betraying my mother, forgive me Mom, as I do not love you less, and do not miss you less. The truth is, as I write this, I realize, that it is not that Dad was my life, you both were, it is just that he left first...he left me...but he left you too didn't he Mom? And you had a greater claim then I did. And once a selfish brat...always a selfish brat...God if I could reverse time, I would of been a better daughter Mom, I would of been there for you more. I am so, so sorry. I was so caught up in my loss that I didn't support you in yours.

Just the Way It Is, was a blessing, and I am thankful and touched that others took comfort in my words, and that they too found a healing path after loosing someone close to them. Was that my purpose in writing Just the Way It Is? No, I just needed to write, I needed to find a way to express my pain.

I write free form, which means it does not rhyme, you will find no--Jack and Jill went up the hill...I do not write according to formula, or shoulds- not ever, not here, not in my horror novel, not in my erotica, not in my magazine articles, and NEVER in my poetry.

I have a blog, http://poemsbytilly.blogspot.com, where I post poems and pictures for others, in which they can read, print, post, collect...or whatever. I do so not to promote or advertise, I do so because I truly love poetry, I truly love writing and I am thrilled to share with others. The poems are free, and I am happy to be in a position where I can give back to the universe, as it blesses me daily.

I can tell you that I have won many awards, I can tell you that I have accomplished great feats that other writers may dream about, but that is not why I write, I write because it is me- I am it- words, stories, prose...it just is. One.

What shall I write about next?

Fuck it...I just can't do it. I can't write in sections. I mean come on, whose life is cut into nice neat sections anyway? The lines cross, jumble and tumble and are one and none.

Nice sections, slots and categories seem pretty boring to me, and I am many things, but boring isn't one of them. It is like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, sure you can do it- after all there is always a way- but does it belong? NO WAY- so you sanded down the fucking corners and made it fit, but why did you? What the hell was wrong with being a square peg? ~giggles~

Is that what I am I wonder, a square peg? I am - just me. And you know what, that is okay with me- perfect in fact, as that is what I was meant to be!

Country Girl |City Girl

Continued in entry # 5...

My \name is Matilda, Entry 3

As seen in "My Name is Matilda, the Tilly Rivers Story by Tilly Rivers

Copyright, Tilly Rivers Inc. 2010

Me- the Niece

As I mentioned earlier, I came from a large group of siblings, nine of us in total. Neither of my parents though had an extra large family, considering the time period. My father had 2 brothers and 1 sister. My mom had 3 brothers and 1 sister. My parents always were ‘over’ achievers- good job, as I am the youngest! LOL

Is this the part where I insert a bit of family culture? Sure...why the hell not. Oh, did I mention I curse a lot? So you can expect bad words like fuck, hell, damn, shit and motherfucker in here? No- opps- well- I curse a lot. ~giggles~

Rivers- or Rivières- is-yes- you guessed right- French. (Fathers surname)--Fitchett or Fitchètt-is- right again- French (Mothers surname)- there is a little Clark(Grandmothers surname-and Irish :mothers side) and a little Thompson (Grandmothers surname-and English: fathers side)—so I am half French, 25% Irish and 25% English- good lord what a mix of.....a mix of.....well.....mix of culture. (Tee Hee)

...and now the teaser...we all know that French lovers, are the best lovers- pour nous savons l'art de touche, et vivre la passion au plus plein. (Hint- look it up-- http://www.freetranslation.com/) and hence the reason I will leave discussing me as a lover to the last...of course I know you can just skip the pages...so maybe the lover section will not be last after all- giggles- oh I do love to tease!

Where was I? God I even confuse me at times! Forgive the rambling- it is just going to happen!

Being a niece was relatively easy, we lived a fair distance from my parents siblings, and there was a rift that happened between the Fitchett/Rivers clans involving my Father that I may discuss later, and long before my birth. Wow- you just have to wonder why family dynamics have to be so complicated and filled with drama-no?

All of my aunts and uncles were married, and are dear to my heart, but the distance, both geographical, and emotional between me (and my parents) and them made it easy for me to be a ‘niece’. It was for the most part, a title, happenstance of birth.

To say I have a favourite aunt or uncle would not be a fair statement, as I did not have an opportunity to know all of my aunts and uncles well.

But this I do know, the times when my parents where with their siblings, there was this vibe- an energy of love and laughter that I was VERY proud to be part of--and am happy to claim equally that I am a Rivers/Fitchett!!

Aunt: Kind-a naturally follows...

Hey, I just noticed I did not mention sister in the line up of who I am. Would this be the part where a physiologist’s spidey senses perk up? Come on- you know- spidey senses, as in Spiderman whenever there was danger- his senses would tingle. I am a firm believer that we all have them- spidey senses that is- or a sixth sense.

There I go again, off track, smiles, this mind of mine roams in a million directions at once. They say (and who are ‘they’ anyway and why are they always yakking? ~giggles~) - that is a sign of great intelligence- in this particular case I will agree with them, cause I am a very smart girl. ~giggles~ Just ask me, I’ll tell ya!

Now that the side note is over, and back to my original thought- sister- I will write about being a sister as well. The baby in the family- with 3 brothers and 2 sisters to my credit- or is that a debit? Depends on the day really, and how much they pissed me off, or more like it, how pissed off they are at me ~giggles~ as I do have a way of doing that- pissing people off I mean.

I am pretty blunt-and not pc (politically correct), I say it like it is—stayed tuned dear reader, I’m sure before the book has been read from cover to cover that I will piss you off some how. *sigh* it is not like I mean too, I just do not understand the point of beating around the fucking bush, say it like it is!

Aunt: and for the record, great aunt...

I am the youngest of nine, six living members of the Rivers clan. Yes, Rivers is my real name- after the disaster of my first marriage I took back my name (a long with my life!)- and no matter what the future holds- marriage or no- partner or no- I will NEVER take anothers name, I am a Rivers!

I am me!

My eldest sister had 2 daughters; her 2 daughters have 5 children. Let’s keep a running total-(2+5)

My eldest brother has one step daughter and 2 children. They have 6 children. (2+3=5 / 5+6=11)- are you getting scared yet? Hell- I’ve only just started.

Next sister-1 Child. Her child has 3. New count- Nieces-5- Nephews-1, great nieces and nephews: 14

Next brother- he has 5 children and 2step children- they have 5 children- don’t worry- even I am getting confused, okay, let me see if I can figure this out, at this point (more to come) I now have 8 nieces and 4 nephews, and the great niece/nephew count is: 19-wait it gets better as next brother has decided that he needs to ‘go forth and multiply’

...now this is probably a good place for me to insert a note- a caution really- I am NOT a Christian, nor do I believe in the Christian ways/god or bible. In these pages, there will be comments like holy mother of fucking god- Jesus fucking Christ- and other curse words. That part of the faith I like- they make great curse words- if you are a religious person, you may want to stop reading right about here- as I guarantee you- I will offend your faith. I do not judge it, or you...just a non-believer. We will get to what I believe in later on in the ‘story of me’- but right now, I just wanted to let you know what you're in for. See, have I pissed you off yet? ~giggles~

....still with me?...Okay, but you’ve been warned.

The second youngest in the family has decided he does not understand the purpose of birth control, I mean holy fuck you’d think the boy was catholic or something. (see told ya!)- And this is certainly not something I haven’t told my brother direct, so it is not like I am writing tales out of school-or gossip, my siblings know I am a straight shooter- no filter on this mouth- at least not with them, they are after all family- and have to put up with me ~giggles~ and have to in part take the credit and blame for me- as I was spoiled by them all!

My brother has-drum roll here- 7 children and 3 step children- yeah ten!-and at last count there are only 4 great nephews born (most of his children are still young).

22 kids, and 33 great nieces and nephews-and counting!

I love them all, even if I do not get to see some as often as I wish too. The fact is, as I was only seven when I was gifted with the title- aunt, I grew up with the older ones. There is a large age gap between me and my siblings. The closest is almost four years older then I am, the eldest almost fifteen years older than me.

Today, we (My nieces/nephews and I) rarely see each other, maybe once a year, and I suppose that happens in a large family. The second generation of nieces and nephews, sadly, is even worse-some I have only seen-- maybe once-- since they were born. I guess a family reunion is needed.

That is not really their fault, it is mine. I know that I put my career above most things, or at least I did. Not so much because of the love of money, or success, but for the drive not to fail, and because for a long time I had a huge issue of being ‘poor’- as that is what I was growing up. I learned a very valuable lesson, not to long ago, when my Mom passed away. I will share that in the section about my Mom. She was a pretty amazing woman...and I think I will just wait to talk about her for a bit, if you don’t mind...my parents, and my abusive marriage will be the hardest parts for me to write about in here.

My parents because of how much I miss them and love them, they are both gone now. And my marriage because of the abuse, it no longer holds any pain for me, or power over my memories, but I know it may cause some pain for my children, for while they know some of what happened, they do not know all. And above all, protecting and loving my children is the most important part of me.

I do not regret meeting and marrying my x-husband, for by doing so, I am blessed with 3 beautiful miracles. My Children!!

Let’s keep rolling right along...me the Poet

Continues in entry #4

My Name is Matilda. Entry 2

Copyright 2010, Rain Enterprises/Tilly Rivers

Entry 2- My name is Matilda, The Tilly Rivers Story



My fears...

I have had three great fears in my life, and if I have not conquered them, I have at least tamed them. I learned long ago not to be a victim, you have to take control of your life and face your fears.

Water: I had a great fear of water for many years, I did not learn to swim until I was in my late teens, and for someone who loves water...fearing it was a source of great sorrow. My Mother loved the water, and we never had the chance to really go ‘swimming’ together, as she is no longer with me in this lifetime.

When I was about eight, my brother Ernie,(second youngest in the family)and I were playing, naturally-where we should not of been.



Just down the road from our house there was a creek, and on this particular cold winter day I decided it would be a great idea to go for a walk along the ice. Yeah--smiles-- I was wrong, not a good idea at all, my brother tried to tell me, warned me that the ice would not be solid, but who really listens to their siblings? It does not take much of a leap to figure out what happened, I fail through the ice and my brother had to pull me out. He saved me...the first of many rescues.

Stories I am sure that will unfold later on, needless to say that I had an over whelming fear of water after that. To this day, when I swim, my face/head never goes under the water. While I have tamed the fear, learned to swim and enjoy the water, I don’t snorkel or would never consider scuba diving.

I have often wanted to go white-water rafting, but the thought of me falling out of the raft and under the water, has kept me away, I have often watched others water ski and thought it looked like great fun until the skier takes a tumble in the water.

So, have I conquered my fear? No, but I have come to a compromise that allows me to love the water, and not give fear control.



Spiders: Some say that a fear is based on a traumatic event, like my fear of water, if that is the case, my fear of spiders must of happened when I was very young or in another life time maybe? As I can't recall the 'event' in which brought about this fear.


At one point in my life, seeing a spider would paralyse me in fear. Slowly over the years I have faced that fear and now while I am not scared to the point of freezing, or screaming like a ninny- I can look at one--from afar--without coming unglued. Now-- if one was to touch me, that may be a another story...and when they are close my heart still beats a little faster, but as long as they are on their side-and me on mine, we can both get along fairly well.


Love: I do not fear loving, or the act of love. I fear dying without ever knowing what true love feels like. True love, of course is a relative term for each person; it is as personal as a pair of undies—giggles- some like thongs, and some are the cotton brief type- a personal choice. True love to me is about knowing and loving me for who I am, and me loving & knowing them for who they are. That I am perfect, and he is perfect, because of our imperfections.


That change is not needed in order to love, and demands and commands are not required. That we do not require the other to make us happy, for happiness is our own responsibility, and by being complete alone, we are capable of sharing and loving each other without limitations and chains.

I want a partner in my life, to share with, laugh with and enjoy life with. Not someone who is there for my money, or what I can do for them, not for the outside skin- but me. A love where you never have to worry about your secrets being judged, your past being mocked, your present being reviewed and measured, or your dreams being ridiculed.

The kind of love where you are best friends and lovers, were passion is shared and grows. Of course I know that real love is the love of self, and I truly love me, what I want is to be able to share all of who I am with that special someone. One day, my ghost, may come into my life and want that too, but I am not sure if that will ever really happen. Love and I seem to be strangers.Or are we?

Have I...do I have love now? Together we will find out...because if love, as I have said; is about imperfections...about acceptance as is, maybe just maybe I have tamed this fear as well.

I might not have a prince charming, but then again, he does not exist does he? This mystical prince- instead I may have something better...I might have a partner.


What I love...

In no particular order.

My father, (miss you DAD!!) to write, the rain, my family (as in my partner, and my children, and 2 beautiful angels Ashley and Sarah-Jane), my friends, nature, magick, taking pictures, shoes, music- all kinds other than old country, although I will admit there are a couple of songs I love that are old country, not because of the song or artist, but the memories that the song triggers.

My mother,(miss you MOM!) my siblings and their children, my cousins and extended family,critters-currently I have 2 dogs, 1 cat and a fish, trees, horse back riding, art, sex, sky diving, touch, rocks and water, the seasons, learning-anything and everything, discovering, passionate people, conversations and debates, hiking, health, yoga, intelligence, purple, red, colour really- the sound of laughter, did I mention sex? Nick Rose art, Ed Delgado photography, -smells- the smell of great food, the smell of coffee, the smell of soap and perfume and the smell of life...tattoos, words, being naked...to kiss..and so much more, all of which I hope to touch on at least a little in this book.

What I hate...

Hate is such a strong word, and not one that I use very often, so instead I will use dislike. There is always a fine line between love and hate, and both emotions carry a great power, one positive, one negative. I am not about to let a negative emotion have that kind of hold over me. Did I mention I was a bit of a control freak? ~giggles~ Some say so, but what do they know?- ~smiles~

Parsnips-yuck, hmmmm...truly I think that’s it...it can’t be though, so I am going to guess that as I write I will find more dislikes. Wait- I am not that fond of bugs, the ugly ones- I Know, I know, not a nice thing to say, that cute bugs are okay but ugly ones aren't, but there you have it just the same, ~giggles~ I do not like ugly ones. Of course ugly is- as in beauty- in the eyes of the beholder-which creates balance- yes? Which means someone else likes the ugly ones, so all is good. ~giggles~

Dividing the sections...
Maybe instead of visiting memory lane, I will divide this story of me into the sections I mentioned above: author, celebrity, model, poet, radio host, entrepreneur, photo enthusiast...Mom, step-mom, lover, daughter, sex symbol, life partner, friend, aunt, niece, grand daughter, woman, child...& just me...
So which me shall we start with? What do you want to know about the most? Of course it is the lover-yes? Then...I will just have to leave that for last. Now don’t groan and pout- it’s good marketing-just like when you watch those horrible television reality shows, they keep you hanging...
Let’s start with something boring...and relatively safe for me to talk about-Niece

To be continued in Entry 3

My Name is Matilda. Entry 1

My Name is Matilda, the Tilly Rivers Story
By Tilly Rivers
Entry One

Special note to: Koren, who came up with the title.
Begin at the beginning

My name is Matilda.

When I was approached to write this book, I was not sure I wanted to. To expose your life to others is a hard thing to do, especially my life. Not because I have had it harder, or easier then anyone else, not because my life is better, worse or in between, but because it is---mine.


The story that the publisher wants is one of rags to riches, the Cinderella story, but that is not me. My story, my memories are a blend of great hurt, great passion, great struggles and great success. Is that rags to riches? Maybe, but I do not think so, and as this is my story- what I think counts. ~giggles!~


To write it, I would need to revisit places I do not want to go, abusive memories, and places of darkness, but I would also be revisiting many happy memories as well.

To write it I would need to be as honest as I can, as honest at least as my memory serves me, honesty is a value that I place great importance on, and it is weaved into the very fabric of who I am. To be honest means I may hurt others, as it is not just my life that will be in these pages, but the lives of others that helped shaped my days, some good, some not so. As we do not walk alone in this world now do we?

In the end, I have chosen to write this, for no other reason then it needs to be written. By doing so, I will be able, I hope, to find those last lingering answers, and destroy the last wisps of pain.

I would love to tell you that this will end in happily-ever-after, but I can’t make those claims. As the 'end' has not be written yet.

Instead I will write, as if no one was reading this, that it is just me and the keyboard, and what happens...happens.

To begin at the beginning...

I am Tilly. My birth name officially is Matilda, named after my parental grandmother. Tilly for short...

My family and a handful of friends call me Mickie. My full name? No, sorry I am not even repeating it here, let's just say it is old fashion and we shall leave it at that.

I was named after both my grandmothers, as the last child of nine, It was my mom who decided to give me both grandmothers names. *rolling eyes*, yeah you guessed it, I just LOVE that...

Why Mickie? Cause my uncle took one look at me and said that my name was way to big for a girl no bigger then a...that’s right-‘mickie’, a term used for a small bottle of booze. It just stuck!

To this day when ever I get together with my family or childhood friends they call me Mickie- Tilly seems to be just too hard to grasp. (I am smiling- my cute bratty smile, that I use to get away with anything as I write this.)


My other nick names? ‘Baby girl’ my parents called me this, but especially my Dad, and “mouse.’

I am the youngest of nine children in total, sadly before I was born, my parents lost three children. One girl and two boys.

I suppose when writing one’s life story, you should start with the early years, build up to the teens and later years, but me...being me...there will not be any rhyme or reason, nor logical sequence of events in this book, as I think it, ‘so shall it be written’. ~smiles~

With me, there is always a twist, hence the phrase “Tilly Twist.” It sounds like a tornado doesn't it? Or maybe a yummy candy. I twist everything! Another thing you will need to know about me as you are reading this is that I am a smart ass, and curse, so if language is an issue, you might not want to read anymore. My 'smart-assedness' (I made that word up- giggles)- will either make make you laugh out loud or groan...either way, be prepared to be making odd noises while reading this.


So, off we go down memory lane...
Okay maybe not.
Stalling I know but I am not ready to write any memories yet. Maybe you aren't ready to read any, especially if you are getting to know me, really KNOW me for the first time.


Who am I? Which me? The author, celebrity, model, poet, radio host, entrepreneur, photo enthusiast?

The Mom, the lover, the daughter, the sex symbol?

The friend, aunt, niece, woman, child?

Or just me...?

The lines blur, overlap and become one and none.


To be continued in Entry 2

Who is Tilly Rivers?

Layers

Removing the layers

Carol West, E-News, Journalist.

January 2010 (Niagara Falls, NY)-In my span of thirty plus years as a freelance entertainment journalist, I have found few writers that can not only switch genres but write from all angles; usually an author sticks to one genre, specializes in their field one might say. However I have recently discovered a writer that has is capable of changing her spots.

The layers of Tilly Rivers are baffling, she wrote a horror story; for fun, pens poems that leave the writer, more often than not, thinking long after the final phrase is read, manages to create tingling sensations with her erotica, and recently has stepped into my arena; the media with her new project Main Street Magazine, or recently called MSM.

What impresses me the most is that her writings are not only good no matter the theme, but raw, real and sticks-to-you. This is a talent, some of us are lucky enough to write well, others even luckier to be paid for our talent, and become masters in our field, I have met very few that are master story tellers in some many arenas.

What is that saying; Jack-of-all-trades, but master-at-none? Certainly not the case here, I researched Ms. Rivers, as all good journalists do, dug deep for any dirt, as any great journalist does. What did I discover? That while she has made enemies, and is certainly the envy of many, she is what she seems. Simply a great writer!

In one of the interviews she is quoted as saying she was “born to write.” No argument here, it appears she was also born to help others through MSM, being it writing or cooking, her goal these days is being the gaffer.

In another interview, Rivers says that she is blessed with daily abundance, and wants to give back to the universal energy. Personally I do not understand the new-age law-of-attraction mumbo-jumbo, but I do get giving back. I also know for many giving back is a way of getting more publicity, self serving, than genuine caring. I do not get that feeling about Ms. Rivers

So, I tip my hat to you Ms. Rivers, as I removed the layers, what I discovered was a magical pen in your hands!

-END-30-

"Never Say Never"-The Fray (Lyrics)

Personal Blog: Operation Change

If you want the most updated blog by me- Tilly Rivers, then I recommend that you connect with me either through Yahoo, or Facebook.

I have been writing on my yahoo blog everyday, it is my hope to post an entry everyday for a year, called "Operation Change"

How do you connect?

1. To connect with me on yahoo- my email address is tilly_rivers {@} yahoo.ca

2. Because my Yahoo account is connected to Facebook and Twitter- you can either follow me on Twitter: MainStreetMag- or facebook: www.facebook.com/riverstilly ( or just click on the facebook profile badge here.)

While I do, and will continue to post on this blog, and my other sites, Yahoo/pulse is the most updated.

Peace

~T~

Flying into the Mist

Flying into the Mist

Copyright 2010, Tilly Rivers

I lose myself in what I do. The walls of my office fade, the click of finger to computer key become a magickal formula, a comfort, for I am about to fly into the mist.

At times I know not where the mist will take me, nor do I fret about the journey for I know this is my world, I belong here. I am home. The mist pulls me often and at odd moments, three A.M. or in the middle of lunch, it matters not, the call pulls me in, and I willing go.

Time goes by unnoticed while I am here, the sun could be shining or there could be a great blowing storm outside my window and I would not be aware, care not, I am one with the mist now.

The world of words beckons me, and I merge, here I create the enchantment, long or short-stories- it matters not. Am I a warrior princess today- or a hero saving the world? Am I a witch or a seductress? Maybe both. The keys on the computer tap rapidly, words materialize, and a new world of prose is born.

Alas, the story is about to come to a close. Long before I type those final two words, I am sad, I grieve my new friends, miss them already, with a pause and a whisper of good bye I type ‘the end’.

The mist becomes fainter and I return, the walls once again focus, I look out the window, I look at the clock. For a moment I just sit, reacquainting myself with reality. I smile. Knowing that the pull will return, new worlds and new friends will be invented.

This is me, I was born to write. My name is Tilly Rivers, and I fly into the mist.

Remembrance Day Soldier Cries (Soldier_Song)

Focus and Goals

I have recently begun a quest regarding focus and goals. With the winding down of yet another year I have a tendency to reflect- decide what was right, and what was wrong.

Balance would be good for me- it was either very very right, or very very wrong- smiles- hmmm- giggles-I guess that was balance- opposite ends of the extreme scale.

So what are the changes...the focus?

I have made a decision to stop writing, at least in the fashion that most are use to seeing from me. The erotica section of my life has a “closed” sign posted on it. That and modelling, the truth is I am having more fun being behind a camera then in front these days. I am, in fact, having a serious love affair with my camera.

My law course will be completed soon, I have this term and one more to complete and that will be done. What shall I use it for? *shrugs shoulders* what will be will be...

Rain Enterprises is downsizing, we are winding downsizing some sections of the organization while adding a new adventure; The RavenLily Group in the new year.

I will continue to focus on my health, and do what it takes to be healthy, add some more trips to the gym, meditate and yoga. Super-size my emotional, mental and spiritual self as well.- Trust me, that takes a lot of focus- giggles- me and normal don't work for the most part- but that is just part of who I am.

I have taken up rereading the classics. My Mom read them to me when I was young, and I find peace and comfort in the memories. I just finished “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by Samuel Clements-aka Mark Twain.

I have the new kobo electronic reader, and I highly recommend it. I was not sure if I would like it, I am old school when it comes to books and reading- I read upside down in bed, in the bath- that sort of thing, I like intimate “reading”- and I find to my delight that I can do that with the kobo.

Focusing and renewing my walk as a Naturalist is important to me. I have written a teaching book about Naturalism, a project that is personal- not for retail.

It will be fun to do more interviews and go to more events for MSM. It is always exciting to learn about new people and be invited to share their passions.

So, yes, my life is still very full, but I am going to take more moments for me, I have lost a part of me, so many times I get caught up in 'things' that I forget to just laugh- love and be. For truly that is who I am.

So until the next entry... blessed be my friends, kisses on the wings of the wind to thee-from me!