Mariel Mailer Psychic Voices Lamp Post

Mariel Mailer, the Psychic Voices, and the Lamp~Post
by Amriel

“Mariel Mailer was born in Vicchio, Tuscany in the early 1400’s and lived in a convent, illuminating parchment scrolls. Later, in 1436 she painted frescoes on the walls of such of mostly religious subjects, including Jesus Christ and mother (the Madonna [Mary]), Saints, and angels. In 1445, she was hired by Pope Eugenius IV to paint frescoes in the Vatican. Possessing great artistic~talent, in 1532 she painted for the royalty of Spain, becoming the first female~painter to achieve International fame. In the 1560s, she inclulived her own children as models in her portraits. In the later 1560s, she became court~painter for Duke Cosimo I, influencing the entire course of European portraiture for the next one~hundred years. Mariel was also a great poet, conveying in both her poetry and her portrait~paintings a sense of eroticism, though admittedly under the patina (or pre~text) of presenting “moralistic~allegories”. She studied painting and later sculpture in Bologna, creating a bronze sculpture of Pope Innocent X in 1664. In 1725, Mariel moved to France, where she designed embroidery~patterns (in the blooming lace~trade [that France was note~worthy for the “needlepoint”~variety ((as opposed to the Belgian “hand spool~woven”variety)) of]). In 1728, Mariel won the Grand Prix de Rome. In 1731, she was admitted to the French Academy as a herstorical~painter, becoming a full~time member of such just three years later. Mariel’s pastoral scenes of rural~France showed great natural~finesse; though admittedly, her portrayal of shepherdesses brought~forth a “relative~innocence” “relatively~prevalent” in other similar works by other artists of the time. In the later early 1700’s, Mariel concentrated on intimate “family~scenes”. It was said that Mariel represented much of the “taste and sophistication” France enjoyed in this period. She moved to Hollywood, California in the United States of America in the 1920s. Like a lot of farm~girls, Mariel was trying to make~it~big in the burgeoning motion~picture industry. “To some people,” Mariel would later cry in an exclamation of relief, “it may be merely a ‘casting~couch’, but I saw it as more of a ‘doorway~to~the~infinite’ a kind of ‘stepping~stone if~you~will’ to the unexplored~vistas of personal~achievement”. A prominent film~critic of the time once said of her actressing that “she used sarcasm and sexual~innuendo to create what amounts to nothing~less that an entirely new type of communication”. “I never knew my father, if you understand what I am saying,” Mariel said once. All told, she played parts in 29 films in just 16 years. She spent some of her time “between~films” in Hollywood in foster~homes, due to her mother’s increasing mental~instability. “They were terribly~strict, they would scarce purchase me a pony at a moment’s whim” she would later complain in a moment of what some would later call “questionably~sincere”~reflection. In 1935, she was placed in a children’s~orphanage, where she experienced a kind of “hard~knock~life”, so prominent to scads of little girls who dream of brighter tomorrows in the slums of Hollywood’s lower~sides and back~alleyways. She would frequently buy clothes and learned how to apply make~up to herself, as well. “The world is kind of…well I am not sure” Mariel said. Often Mariel was seen hanging~out with the transvestites at the Moxie~Club with the Pep~Club Rally Squad of the local high~school and its droves of drug~dealing fathers, most noteworthably, Jimmy (a local~high~school student)’s father, called affectionately “Pop”, who had herself a predilection for popping speed~pills and seeming unintentionally to spout off made~up catch~phrases like “43~SKIDDOO!” and “How bout you, kid?” with little or no provocation, whatsoever (or so it seemed to the teeming masses who both frequented and patronized the Moxie Club in its “hey~day”). Mariel was a “photographer’s dream” and posed nude for a calendar that was given~away to mechanics at service~stations and garages as a promotional~item. In the 1950s, she was allowed to place impressions of “hands~and~feet” into wet~cement near the façade of a motion~picture theater, that was in itself called “Chinese” (though it was plainly seen to exist in North America, and nowhere near what was once incorrectly politically referred~to as the “Oriental [Asian]~locales”). “Hollywood is a place” Mariel said, on another occasion altogether. Mariel was asked by the USO to tour Korea, where she entertained 60,000 soldiers in just four days. “I can’t say anything” she said to a reporter afterward in what seemed~like tears, “not today sorry. I’m sorry.” Arthur Miller, noted play~wright once said of Mariel “it seems to me that she is a phenomenon.” “I do not object to doing musicals, I rather enjoy them.” Mariel said later. She became increasingly dependant upon substances that could be said to be “relatively~questionably beneficial” such as food and Phenobarbital (itself a barbituate~esque “tranquilizer~of~sorts or what~have~you if~you~will”). “It takes an actual artist to do her lines the way she did the way she was, if you understand what I am saying” a person on the streets may have said about Mariel during this period. She was blamed for gambling and being overwhelmingly emotional during this time~in~her~career as well. Doctors increasingly prescribed therapy and medications as was so common in Hollywood California, during this period (the 1950s). “It took so much just to keep her going” Doctors said of Mariel. “I don’t want to think of myself as a scape~goat” Mariel said, but it was so easy to do for the other people surrounding her, during this period of time, but not especially (Einstein’s relativity~theory applies here).” was a “withdrawal~symptom~inspired heavenucination”, or “more~correct perception of an experience ‘not actually there’” (resulting from a lack of Phenobarbital in an individual who had grown accustomed to such), a psychiatrist may say about an individual whom this experience happened to. THE “FACT” THAT THIS RECORD “EXISTS”…Mariel Mailer may go by the yesgirlcalture "Valentina," if she were to have such a wish...Valentina, like some little~girls,  was sick~with~guilt concerning being non~extant in a relative~time where a shower was more important than a meal~of~food.  Ofttimes she could be found in the beauty~supplies~aisle of a grocery~store staring at a bottle of Suave brand conditioner, wishing more than anything that she had $1.07 (and at the same~time positive that she was in all~of~creation the singular possessor of such a personality idiosyncrasy).  “And when she cried!” she cried, and those soft, coarse buckets that never behooved themselves to 'nee 'ear that in those self~same times; as it were, relatively~windling~ness is not (non~realtively~nearer than that could [when a test~of~such ((could re~veal the veracity of a reasonable construation that)) it was]) true, but the opposite.  "Oh!, and those tempest~tossed~shores!  Speak to me more of relatively~windling!" she continued; then cut~the~conversation~short, but not as if to say something (not on this one here).  And while she possessed girly of these self~same characteristics (in~themselves) in~herself, it is not not the purpose of this narrative to expound upon~such here (sic, on~account [again of reasonable construation, but in this case specifically] of redundancy [but on this one the conditionality hinges upon whether ((or relatively~whether)) you understand what I am attempting to communicate]).  “If I remember my religion correctly,” Valentina said to herself in what was a cry that was in~itself an exclamation of relief, “it is not an image I am supposed to be enamored~with, but the illusion ‘in~it~self’.” “And further~more,” she continued, “if what John F. Kennedy said is right then how can people not see a connection between the Tower of Babel and the building of parking~garages...in other words, not the proverbial ‘apples~and~oranges’ but not not a case of ‘if I have something nice to say’ because it (in~itself) takes precedence? OHH! I am SO CONFUSED! Sigh...” a fear hit her of being construed as angry; so Valentina ran to the church in the rain, collapsing on the front~steps of~such, desperately remembering the time Hooter and she drank bottles of high alcohol~concentrated beer. “The self~referentiality of ‘judgmentational’ is remarkably~significant” Valentina spoke to herself (in a non~psychic voice that was also non~audible) in what was not~sarcasm; and this would be a surprise to noone (sic), as there was in fact no~conspiracy against~her. “Some trust in sarcasm, some trust in using a dog as a representational~model (to explain all of this), but I will put my trust in the words of Jesus Christ” Valentina exclaimed to herself in relief (as well as a bastardization of King David’s psalm) as she smashed the bottle of St. Ides malt liquor against the cement~railing of the church~steps.  This was the place that she has still no idea that Hooter almost proposed (marriage) to her once.  They had sat there on those steps in front of the cathedral, on that concrete~veranda, she contemplating the punk~rock (that some would have called “indie~rock”) show wherein she had shot~heroin with the members of a quite~famous act, having sex with one of the members thereof as~well, Hooter (the ‘other~she’ [who was not fully aware of this, perhaps because of an herbal~remedy “relatively~correctly” utilised ((on~account in IT~self of a lack of reasonable~purpose))]) not contemplating much of anything (as has just been explained).  Valentina was becoming quite fond of shooting~heroin, using a hypodermic~syringe to “hop herself up”, enjoying the sensation that it brought.  The proposed~propopsal had not become efficacious as the door to the church was locked; therefore the pre~nuptial couple had no way to gain entrance.  All of this Valentina was unaware~of as the top came off the beer~bottle, and did~this prove that Albert Einstein was correct about the relativity of time?  After~all, she had not yet in a chronological~perpspective of~such even drunk the beer, yet she was in a state of ignorance of Hooter’s wedding~plans.  “I love you, lamp~post!” Valentina cried, in a rare~glimpse into the animistic~world, not ascribing anthropomorphic~characterisitics to the object in a paranoid “relatively~correct” heavenucination, but truly “see~ing” the spirit moving~within.  “And I love you, too!” the lamp~post smiled, in reply...