All posts tagged muse


Published July 9, 2019 by Maryanne

Facetune (4)

Photo of Dennis and Maryanne by Jayne DiGregorio (

This year is my eighth year married to my husband, and 14 years together in total.

We are still so in love; still in the honeymoon stage. This is not something I just realized, nor is it something I take for granted. It is real, and we are blessed.

As an independent woman who wasn’t in a hurry to get married, I knew from our first date my husband was “the one.” What made him different than others were three things: 1. He was supportive of my career. 2. He’s not a jealous type. 3. His love for animals and music. These were the top three things on my list for love and I wouldn’t settle for anything less.

But then, there is so much more, as we continue to live, learn, and love. I can honestly call my husband my best friend. Around him I feel safe because he loves me unconditionally. Around him I feel growth because there’s never dull conversation I’m seeking to avoid. Around him I feel entertained because together we are fun, funny, and never boring! Around him I feel happy because from day one, every single night we’ve spent together, we wake up with a smile on our faces. Around him I feel deep because our shared thoughts are always that way.

We both have incredible energy and are always up for a fun time.

We both love our kitties with all our hearts and miss them when we are far from home.

We connect on the four major levels: physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

And we miss each other when we are apart, even if it’s just for a few hours.

We’re amazing people and we deserve each other. Together we attract the greatest friends too. We collect other rock ‘n’ roll couples to share the good times. Even our single friends are unique people we adore! We’re in our own little world with the select few, and we love it!

This is why I say to all people — men and women alike — do not settle. Wait for the one who is worth waiting for. I met my husband later in life and never gave up on the fact that I’d meet my special someone; my forever person.

When I was young, in my 20s, I had this theory, that whoever was in unhappy relationships (settling)… if they would just leave, that would open up the door for the right person to show up.  And that, I did!

I was told I was “fickle” and “too picky.” And the most insensitive (and WRONG) was when someone once said, “You think you are too good for anyone, that’s why you are single.” No, I was just waiting for it to be RIGHT before I got married.

Love is not something that happens on command, in your ego’s time. It happens in God’s time; or the time of the universe or a higher spirit. When you wait, you reap the all the beautiful rewards a relationship has to offer. As time goes on, your love continues to grow. It doesn’t disappear or fade, as some may suggest if you are with the right person.

There we are, the middle-aged couple happily holding hands. Someday we will be the old couple happily holding hands. And that’s all I ever wanted, someone to grow old with.

My biggest dream came true! ❤ Thank you, Dennis, my forever love!

Maryanne Christiano-Mistretta can be reached at:

She is available for blogging, ghost writing, writing, and motivational speaking engagements. She is the author of the following books (in which she mentions Freddie Mercury in both, and how he inspired her as a child, teenager, and still today!):

“Be (Extra)Ordinary: Ten Ways to Become Your Own Hero” will be available October 2019. To pre-order, go here:

“I Don’t Want to Be Like You” is available on Amazon. To get your paperback, Kindle or audio copy, go here:

Writers/Poets Deserve More Credit For Our Imaginations

Published April 16, 2015 by Maryanne

writers strange

As I prepare to self-publish my first work of fiction, it haunts me terribly that the general public doesn’t give creative writers enough credit. And so I hesitate to move forward. I’m not talking about book sales by any means. I’m talking about assumptions people make, mainly that a writer is secretly disguising their God-given imaginative talent with some sort of “cover up” that their creations are not all that, but rather truth in disguise.

Many moons ago, in the early to mid-1990s, I was on the rising poet, spoken word scene. I was so confident, I actually gave copies of my poetry to Allen Ginsburg when I met him! Sometimes I look back and flinch at my cockiness. But that’s when I have to take a step back and say, “Hey, don’t second guess yourself.” Authors and poets do need all the confidence they can get because as great as the praise is, so are the knock downs. The worst being when you don’t get credit for your creativity.

During my time as a live poet, I heard it all. Some guys who were infatuated with me thinking every poem was about them. “That one was about me. I know it.”

“Sorry, no.” That was my honest answer.

And then there were other guys who knew they didn’t stand a chance, chastising me for writing about dark topics such as bondage and discipline, assuming it was autobiographical. Hearing “What kind of guys do you hang out with?” in such a condescending manner from someone I barely respected made me shy away from the poetry scene — at least in New Jersey. And so I started performing in NYC where people were more open-minded.

I wanted to strangle the person who made the assumption that my poetry was autobiographical and scream at the top of my lungs: “I’M A WRITER, DAMN IT! GIVE ME SOME CREDIT FOR CREATIVITY AND IMAGINATION!”

The first time I had a fiction story published, I was ecstatic. I saw the magazine on a newsstand at St. Mark’s Place in NYC. It was the coolest thing in the world. How great is my life? What could be better than being in NYC and seeing your story on display for all the world to see?

My bubble burst a few days later when a gym friend assumed the story I wrote was about a friend who was having problems in her love life.

This is what we, as writers and creators, struggle with on a daily basis — the personal end of it. The comments, the critiques, the assumptions. It’s just like being bullied in school. People make up their minds about something and you can never do enough to change it.

As I’m on the verge of publishing my first fictitious book, “Love Cats” — a book that takes place in the 1980s, I have to psych myself up to the fact that many people are going to assume that the story is autobiographical. Even though it’s not. Not even close.

When they say, “Write what you know” — I really only know about three things: music, health and how to have a happy marriage. Only one of these three things is in my upcoming book: music.

For me to create many different characters, I had to dig deep into my imagination. It was very hard work, like putting together a jigsaw puzzle that has over 1000 pieces. I also had to do massive research to get certain things right.

This book is truly my baby, my muse, a book I will cherish until I die. I fell madly in love with all my characters whether they were good or bad. So much thought was put into their growth and development. During the writing process I believe I momentarily channeled the work from a higher power because some of the book came to me effortless, while other parts were so hard I had to put it away for months.

So, dear reader, THINK, before the next time you ask a writer or a poet if their work is autobiographical. It’s really a slap in the face whenever we hear such false accusations. Give us some credit for our minds, please? No matter how strange!

And to my fellow writers — this is where I say, not only to you, but as a reminder to myself. There’s always the point where you need to just let go and not worry about what others think. Nothing you do can change that. So don’t go crazy trying to change the worlds’ minds. A simple note inside your book saying, “The characters in this book are  fictitious. Any resemblance to someone alive or dead is purely coincidental” will suffice.



The Conversation: In the Mind of an Artist’s Model

Published June 10, 2013 by Maryanne

The ConversationThe Conversation (photo by Darlene Foster)

Saturday I blogged about going to see my friend Darlene’s artwork at the Montclair Art Museum: (

As some of you know, I did a series with Darlene, modeling for several of her pictures in October, 2010, which was not only extremely fun, but extremely creative as we spent over eight hours together doing all different types of photos.

From that day moving forward, I always wondered what the photos would look like, what Darlene would do with them, and if anyone would buy pictures of me, as art.

Prior to meeting Darlene, I’ve modeled for other artists. One did sculptures, using me as the muse. I became a bronzed fairy, as well as a demon. After working hard for an entire summer, the grand opening happened and one of the sculptures sold immediately. But I never knew who it was sold to. And that bummed me out.

Since then I always wondered how other art models felt, not knowing who is buying them.

In one of the antique shops my husband and I frequent, there’s a painting of a sexy young guy with long blonde hair, shirtless and in jeans. It’s not mind-blowing sexy, but kind of fun and goofy. It reminds me of a young Iggy Pop, but healthier. I favor that painting and always see if it’s still there. Then I wonder … how recent is the painting? Is the guy old now? How old? Old enough to be my dad? Was he a friend of the artist? What is the story behind the painting? Does he live around here? Did he model a lot for the artist, or was this the only one? How much did he get paid? Did he enjoy it? There is always so much behind what you see.

So, fast forward to Saturday, it was so cool that the timing was perfect; as soon as Gina and I got to Darlene’s booth, a lady bought a postcard with my photo on it — “The Conversation.”

Just as I arrived, Darlene said, “And here’s the model.”

I smiled and said hello to the lady, who was around in her 60s, slim and stylish with the most adorable leopard print flats.

I wanted to get a photo of the lady who purchased a postcard with my photo. I wanted to have a part of her, as she had a part of me (and of Darlene). As I can never totally feel comfortable being center of attention. I like a party. I want everyone around me to be a star as well. (But I chickened out, because I am just so awkward around people sometimes).

Sometimes I’ll check out a Twitter page of a musician, writer or model I’m interested in. I see all these people tweeting them, giving them praise and compliments. And rarely will a celebrity write back. I understand that it’s not good to engage with a fan because someone could be a stalker. But if I had that many fans, I doubt I could hold back and not engage.

How can you not ask a fan — someone who is very interested in YOU — questions about his/herself as well? How can one be so nonchalant about an opportunity right in front of them? Am I satanic because I want to be like God — all knowing? Because I have so many questions about people … and life in general? Am I like the nosy aunt everyone avoids? I’d like to just think I’m pretty darn amazing because I care so much and am genuinely interested in people. Or am I a control freak because I can’t sit back, relax and just be a subject — I have to take the reins and be the creator, the interviewer, the editor, etc.

As a writer, once in a blue moon I’ll get an email from someone praising my work (not talking about blogging, talking about my published work). I always answer. Always.

My favorite email was when a Cyrinda Foxe fan contacted me about by article on Cyrinda Foxe that was published in Punk ( When something like this happens, it keeps the article alive … keeps it going … brings back the wonderful memories of when the article was actually created. When I sat in Cyrinda’s hotel room for four hours, interviewing her at first, then turning off the tape recorder and just enjoying each other as friends. And then later having dinner together.

So that two minute transaction of a lady purchasing a postcard, by Darlene Foster, that I modeled for three years ago, brought back a ton of amazing memories … the fun I had with Darlene that day, the laughter, the creativity, the awesome lunch we had, and the fact that my life was so great I had gotten into a car accident earlier that day yet kept going because I was so happy nothing was going to stand in my way!

And I’d love to know what was going on in the purchasers life too — on that exact day. But, of course, I may never know.