Sophie's Musings

The Big Pink

By Sophie | January 22, 2017

By Sophie B. Hawkins

When you are about to lose something, someone valuable, that’s when you sacrifice your time, your way of life to hold onto them, that’s when you become really present. When you are about to lose something you love is when you get on your knees and beg.

Maybe that’s the silver lining of Trump becoming president. We are not willing to lose what we love about this country and we are willing to get on our knees for Miss Liberty not to go away.

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Tribal Thoughts

By Sophie | July 29, 2016

Dear friends, I was walking Esther down the street on a hot yesterday and kept stepping into the shade. I’m looking for the shade in every moment, I thought. I’m not drawn to the fiery hot aspect of ideas, people, attractions or emotions. I’m leaning into the cooler, quieter perimeters of observation. Especially in my creative work right now, where there is plenty of heat in the content of what I’m writing, I keep edging into the shady spots.

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Meeting David Bowie

By Sophie | January 11, 2016

There are people who bring up the question of who are we and why do we matter. When I heard David Bowie for the first time, the sun was pouring onto the living room floor like batter, and you were sitting next to the victrola, looking at an album cover, “Changes One”. I was nine. I was drawn into the room by his voice. The purity of that moment is astounding to me now. I was over whelmed with curiosity and also aversion because his music was a little strange.

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GROWING INDEPENDENCE

By Sophie | July 4, 2015

By: Sophie B. Hawkins

This evening, Dashiell and I walked onto the beach with dry branches and matches, kindle from the 7/11, a blanket and some water. The sky was as bright as laughing children, the sand warm, and the ocean waves as relaxed as horses turned out in the field, swishing their tails, snorting, and hanging their heads in the long grass.

We found a hidden spot near the dunes and dug a deep,

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Intimacy

By Sophie | March 20, 2014

Hello people of the light, how are you? I am fine. I shake my head, how does one blog totally honestly, intimately; knowing intimacy has no integrity on the Internet. It’s a form of thought promotion. And yet in writing books, stories, novels, songs there is no false idea or hiding of the truth, because, speaking for myself, art is an honest search for the truth. Art could be an abstract audit of the balancing act between one’s heart,

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Birthday Blog

By Sophie | November 23, 2013

You know when people say about childhood, “it goes by so fast”? And when they say that I think, ‘I’m sitting at the table of this child’s life until there’s no place set for me, and then I’ll never pass up an invitation to come back and feast.’

We celebrated Dashiell’s fifth birthday and I remembered the day he came out of my body, how I felt when I saw him for the first time.

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Hello near winter babies…

By Sophie | November 11, 2013

Hello near winter babies, hello from Fla. Crimson and Prussian blue scarves stretch across the pearly dome of atmosphere, sky, un endless sky, how lucky we are to catch the light of that long ago sun.

We played last night for the pussycats. Isn’t that an androgynous word? For the Pussies and the Cats. More Pussies than Cats, to be sure, and it was a good show for all of us creative folk.

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I am sitting in my New York apartment

By Sophie | October 6, 2013

Hello People Of The Light, how are you? I am sitting in my New York apartment hearing sirens tweak the night and mufflers like didgereedoos charge down the open avenue. That’s how I know what time it is, by how fast a motorcycle can fly by. And that’s the time I’m finally still, my heart slipping into the locomotion of my dishwasher in the kitchen. My new old kitchen. My new old friend. My new old mother.

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Life and limb –

By Sophie | July 15, 2012

Hello friends, people of the light, octupuses clutching arrays of truth with each arm. From Gillette, Wy, to San Fransisco, Ca, I am meeting wonderful yous, who are creative, funny, soulful and generous with your sparks of happiness.
Here’s what I feel; for we who live on the limbs of adventure, for what is adventure but persuing a dream, life is topsy turvy. Life is overwhealming in the constant slaps of cold water on our faces,

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Every Morning….

By Sophie | January 9, 2012

Every morning I drink in his voice with my ears. He’s always singing, with that wandering, reedy tone, or humming, the songs of his soul. I’ll remember this forever, When he’s flown away, when I’m flying away, I’ll remember the liberation of being his mother . Dashiell was eating and said it was better than God, I said that’s pretty good, then. What does God feel like? He asked, trust, I said, that everything is okay,

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So, you asked me about the social network…

By Sophie | July 1, 2011

You asked me what it is like living within the social media explosion, since I was around before most people even had personal computers, circa 1992, and I’ve been wondering why you asked, and why the question bothers me so much. In some way I feel you asked my age, or some personal question for which the answer is apparent, but the meaning is not. And yet I don’t want to put a wedge between the curious and the cat,

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Happy Birthday Bob Dylan

By Sophie | May 24, 2011

My father was sparing with his comments but one day he quoted Bob Dylan, “I wish that for just one day you could stand in my shoes, you’d know what a drag it is to see you.” Positively 4th st. I walked out of the apartment and said to myself, “That’s what I am”, a song writer. I was 9 years old and the city was mine, the music was written for it, and the harmonica bounced like light off the wind shields and store fronts.

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