Author: L. A. Lewandowski

Lois Lewandowski graduated from Rutgers University with a degree in Political Science and French Literature. A passion for life lived well is reflected in her novels, Born to Die-The Montauk Murders, A Gourmet Demise, and My Gentleman Vampire, giving readers a glimpse into the world of the beau monde. Lois lives in Tampa, Florida. Learn more at her lifestyle blog, and her Amazon author page.

Getting It Right: The Art of Ballet

Courtesy of Joseph Philips

Ballet is an art that requires complete commitment, and the willingness to endure pain. This is the most basic truth about dance, and in particular ballet. To excel in ballet you must accept that your body, particularly your feet, will hurt. The technique required to master it is contrary to the way our body naturally arranges itself.

Do ballet dancers complain about this? No, they are perfectionists and masochists. They don’t care about blisters, cracked toenails, or sore muscles. What they want is another inch in extension or turnout, a clean triple pirouette, faster feet. Continue reading “Getting It Right: The Art of Ballet”

Much Ado About Marketing

Courtesy of Majickal Graphics

I like New Year’s resolutions and setting goals. On New Year’s Day, while my husband and I recover from the previous night’s festivities, we watch football and I open the new desk calendar. It has become my tradition to sit with this calendar and copy, from the old one, the birthdays and other important events I will need to remember during the brand new year. I enjoy looking at some of the interesting things that I did during the past year. Then, I close the calendar and put it on the shelf with all the others I have saved. I am sentimental and not a little superstitious. Those who know and love me have used the appellation “hoarder”, affectionately. Continue reading “Much Ado About Marketing”

Danse Macabre

Have you ever had to pick out a casket for a loved one?

I have. This doubtful honor is a right of passage for many family members. The memory of this event is often surreal. Its grim reality weighs heavily on us, demanding stoic posture and the composure of a Vulcan. We fight to submerge the horror and the pain that goes along with it. If you are the one making the decisions, the needs of the living and the recently deceased outweigh the personal luxury of mourning.

For others, a staggering loss compels them to write, to record every vivid detail. They create a memoir of the event for their own release and to “entertain” others. This response confuses me and makes me wonder: is it because the words come easily to them, or is each one, as they are to me, a stiletto of exquisite pain they can somehow endure? What is the best medicine if your heart is an open wound? Is the exercise of recording such personal experiences viable as more than a personal exorcism? Will readers other than your friends and family care? Consider a scene in my own hell. Continue reading “Danse Macabre”