R.I.P. Aunt Gina

In 2009 I self-published a book that rather beat around the bush with respect to what I truly have to say to so many of the world’s posers – those who label themselves and fancy themselves to be musicians, artists, and spiritual teachers. But they are cheap imitations of the beautiful things they lay claim to. Perhaps they mean well but they are hollow shells ringing empty, likely doing more harm than good. The mirror needs to be held up to them, and for them, and in some cases slammed in their faces. And that is why I have come.

But I didn’t want to offend anyone then; I wanted readers and fellow musicians to like me…

My Aunt Gina read my book and quickly penned a stinging letter to me, calling me out and telling me to quit fooling around and say what it is I have to say. She told me how important my realizations, insights, actions, and message to this apathetic world is, and how I’d best get my ass in gear and be true to myself, my heart, and that divine thing that drives me, and to which I owe it all.

I’ve revisited that letter over the years, and it is a driving and inspiring force to me as I move into this next book, which will be written with all of the compassion I can muster, but will mince no words, and provide no safe haven for the posers who too often seem to dominate our world.

I spent the day celebrating my mother-in-law’s 85th birthday today, then came home to learn that my Aunt Gina passed away today at age 91. Life can be like that…

This lovely tribute was written by her daughter Bianca, who is an inspiration in her own right.

Luigia Philomena M. Miller
Playwright. Poet.
Writer. Songwriter.
Painter. Professor.
Dreamer. Doer.
Athlete. Advocate.
Searcher. Survivor.
Insister. Resister.
Fixer. Fusser.
Fighter. Fearless.
Rescued her dad from Nazis.
Then stole supplies off their trains.
Unaware of her bad assness and other’s disapproval.
Unafraid to break rules, norms and balls.
Ignorer of all official signs, expectations and conventions.
Innocent in a million ways. Wise beyond most of us.
Mother to many. Friend forever to a few she loved dearly.
Believed in people’s potential and pushed them towards it.
Especially those unaware of their own powers.
Believed family was the most important thing.
Extended, of choice, of love. “You’ll see”. Yes, I do.
Believed in me, and taught me how to observe, always, closely, in the quiet.
That is where the good stuff lives, and art starts.
Believed she had exquisite taste.
Yet was an unashamed KFC lover.
Drove me crazy.
God I loved her.
On to her next big production.
And, finally, free.
She is light.
It’s all love.
There is peace.

I only hope that my life and my work will stand as some small fitting tribute to my Aunt Gina from this day forward. I am forever grateful for her unique honesty to me in that letter. In that regard she stood, and stands, alone.

It’s a good day to cry…

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