A lot of Gia fans wonder what Gia would've been doing today if she were still walking this plane. Well, it's hard to say---but I would guess she would be involved in some kind of creative/artful endeavor. After all, she was art. As a model, she was 'poetry in motion'---or shall I say---'poetry in still-motion.' In her personal life, she liked music, writing, photography and cinematography. You can't get much more artsy-fartsy than that. I've chosen to interpret her creativity here through art, poetry, song lyrics and some of her own writing and magazine work.
It is my own creative work and interpretation.
jackie beam 11-8-2004

I WAS LISTENING TO DAVID BOWIE'S SONG, "FIVE YEARS," THE OTHER NIGHT....AND IT MADE ME THINK OF THIS FASHION SHOT OF GIA TAKEN BY JOHN STEMBER.
"FIVE YEARS," WAS ONE OF GIA'S FAVORITE BOWIE SONGS. IT'S FROM THE ALBUM 'ZIGGY STARDUST,' AND CAME OUT IN 1972.

Wild Nights by Emily Dickinson

Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!

She Walks In Beauty

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron (1788-1824)

BarCode

i dreamed of barcodes last night
maybe i had too many drinks
maybe i wanted to send you a letter
let's go postal
you and me
you get the gun
and i'll take aim

jbeam c 2004

   Kisses

      SWEET, can I sing you the song of your kisses?
      How soft is this one, how subtle this is,
      How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is,
      As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice;
      How this one clings and how that uncloses
      From bud to flower in the way of roses;
      And this through laughter and that through weeping
      Swims to the brim where Love lies sleeping;
      And this in a pout I snatch, and capture
      That in the ecstasy of rapture,
      When the odorous red-rose petals part
      That my lips may find their way to the heart
      Of the rose of the world, your lips, my rose.
      But no song knows
      The way of my heart to the heart of my rose.

          Arthur Symons

Sweet Bird - Joni Mitchell

Out on some borderline
Some mark of inbetween
I lay down golden-in time
And woke up vanishing

Sweet bird you are
Briefer than a falling star
All these vain promises on beauty jars
Somewhere with your wings on time
You must be laughing
Behind our eyes
Calendars of our lives
Circled with compromise
Sweet bird of time and change
You must be laughing
Up on your feathers laughing

Golden in time
Cities under the sand
Power, ideals and beauty
Fading in everyone's hand

Give me some time
I feel like I'm losing mine
Out here on this horizon line
With the earth spinning
And the sky forever rushing
No one knows
They can never get that close
Guesses at most
Guesses based on what each set of time and change is touching

In which she warns a rose, and through the rose, people

Divine rose cultivated with such grace
you are, with all your fragrant subtlety,
a scarlet master class in loveliness,
a snowy course that beauty demonstrates;

of human architecture duplicate,
example of all vain gentility,
in whose existence nature aptly joined
the happy crib to sad sepulchre's gates:

how haughty in your pomp, presumptuously
and haughtily you scorn the risks of death,
and later faint, with shrivelled petals tucked,

of your declining state give withered signs,
whereby, by your wise death and foolish life,
alive you fool, and dying you instruct.

Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz 1651-1695