A lot of things have happened on this blog: some fun was had, most of it was over the top, much of it had to be deleted after the fact, and a segment of it was absolute mayhem, hurtfulness, and Trouble.

There were also beautiful moments of creative brilliance, phrase magic, and divine love.

That is the power (consequence) of the blog: the power (consequence) of the voice: the power (consequence) of being honest, raw and confessional at all possible moments. I make no apologies for what happened here. It was always art. It was always truth: wholeness in a fragment. It was never meant to be taken literally, to be set in stone, to damn myself or anyone.

I know: even with the best intentions... 

This blog, or what's left of it, reflects both the evolution of my writing and myself. There's nothing more to say, except goodbye to the living entity ('live journal,' if you will) and spectacle that it was.

While I am turning the page on it, I am not destroying it: it exists for archival purposes. I am a writer. A damn good one. And I do not apologize for having written. Word play and outlandish thinking are two of my strengths as a writer. If what you read here made you think or feel, in any way, mission(ary) accomplished.

That said, I've learned a little bit about image control in the past couple of years. What I've learned: once you put it out there, you can't control it!

I do see its purpose and function as sometimes inevitable and valid. I will always want to "tell all," as it is a characteristic of my core personality. However, I now have a little bit more wisdom, wisdom that tells me that I am better off "telling all" to a few select, trustworthy individuals whom I am absolutely sure know me-- and whom I know will accept me and love me unconditionally. It was always about those few people, anyway.

As for the rest, it's all art: make of it/me what you will. If you saw love here, you will follow me elsewhere and see love. If you saw shameful and cruel debauchery here, trust me: find me elsewhere and I'll show you what you want to see. (Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the Owen Meany-est of them all...)

I've exposed some of the contents of my mind here, but do trust that there are many, many contents you have never nor will ever see. That's more than just fine by me.

I am a fiction, a construction in your mind, and you will believe about me what you choose to believe about me-- based on the fiction of who you believe yourself to be. I'm fine with being an 'existentialist feminist' 'til the end, if that's how you'd like to see me. 'Callous bitch' works, too. 'Inspiring freak and uplifter of the downtrodden' is a personal favorite of mine.

So, though I absolutely resent the entire notion of 'image control,' I know we live in a world of frightened children who call themselves adults and who need it to keep believing they live in a world of one-dimensionality, where things are always what they seem to be on the surface and the silverware is always in its place. (Hello, my mythology-devotees!)

Cater to the black and white thinkers? No way. But when they start getting to you and trying to make you believe in their binaries, you've got to move the conversation Elsewhere.

So off we go: to Elsewhere!

Speaking of Elsewhere, that lovely coastal town to which we're heading:

I am no longer Jessica Mason McFadden. That is no longer my legal name. Of course, because of my bond with my ex-wife, Sandy, and because of our two McFadden children, a part of me will always be McFadden. But I am called to embrace who I am --today-- and who I am today is Jessica L. Mason.
 
As always , I am working on being who I am-- in full.

Now step back from the eaves (dropping) and peace out, Dudes. Me=(ow)t of here! :)