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you dont wanna know.. Author: itzhillaryfoo Keywords: oprah winfrey Added: July 15, 2008

Author: CelebTV Added: Wed, 25 Jun 2008 09:16:42 -0800 Duration: 128Oprah talks about her enlightening 21-day cleanse.

Author: CelebTV Added: Wed, 25 Jun 2008 09:16:42 -0800 Duration: 128Oprah talks about her enlightening 21-day cleanse.

Will these female heavyweights battle it out for Obama's respect?

Le Gourmet TV reviews the Oprah Magazine Cookbook. www.legourmet.tv

Oprah Winfrey Big Give Flips Out In Front of Large Group After Show!

Oprah has decided to go vegan (cruelty free diet) for 3 weeks. to find out more: http://www2.oprah.com/foodhome/food/cleanse/blog/blog_main.jhtml Author: LiveVegan Keywords: Oprah Winfrey Added: May 21, 2008

Charice Pempengco guests on the Oprah Winfrey Show's The world's most talented and smartest kids episode on May 12, 2008. Ranked 3.92 / 5 | 1899 views | 3 comments Click here to watch the video Submitted By: TurtleBeachTravels Tags: Charice Pempengco Travel Cruise Vacations Airfare Oprah Winfrey Filipino Whitney Categories: Entertainment Travel & Outdoors

We've all seen and heard from the nutty psycho pastor on Barack's side, but a pastor for Hillary has surfaced that's just as nutty! Dr. James David Manning has proclaimed "with the authority of the Lord" to say unto you that Barack Hoosane O-bomb-er is a closet homosexual. Wait till you hear what he thinks about Jeremiah Wright and Oprah Winfrey! You can't make this stuff up, folks! PODCAST VERSION

Live Oprah Guesting ( May 12, 2008 ) Some of the world's most talented and smartest kids hit the Oprah stage! Charice Pempengco guests on Oprah this May. EPISODE TITLE: World's Smartest Kids VIDEO COURTESY OF OPRAH. No Copyright Infringement Intended. Charice traveled 8,000 miles on a 15-hour flight to perform Whitney Houston's "I Have Nothing" on Oprah's stage! Oprah says it sounds like Charice is pulling her voice from somewhere deep in her body. "What a blow-away moment!" Oprah says she first heard about Charice from producer/songwriter David Foster. "He says you're a force to be reckoned with." For Charice, singing on Oprah's stage is a dream come true. "I can't believe I'm here standing with you," she says. "I can't believe I'm hugging you!" Other Tags : live star king paul grady show oprah winfrey interview live guest korea london pisa italy charice pempengco i have nothing whitney houston 2008 gulod cabuyao laguna aldueza

Cher, Tina Turner & Oprah on one stage.

Oprah Winfrey surprises good pal Ellen in Chicago.

Star Jones is speaking out after the controversial Barbara Walters appearance on Oprah. In her interview Barbara Walters explains why she fired Star Jones due to her rapid weight loss. Barbara Walters admitted to lying about the Star Jones situation. But why did she over react to Star Jones getting her stomach surgery? Barbara Walters looks like she has undergone cosmetic surgery and face lifts. Barbara and The View co-host Joy Behar have both admitted to receiving Botox injections. Barbara Walters has revealed that Star Jones had her ‘View’ co-hosts hide the fact she’d had gastric bypass surgery.“She decided to have a gastric bypass operation, but then she decided not to tell anybody,” Walters told Oprah Winfrey Tuesday. “Then we had to lie on the set everyday because she said it was portion control and Pilates,” Walters said. “Well, we knew it wasn’t portion control and Pilates.” Winfrey responded, “We in the audience go, that’s some damn Pilates teacher!” source Barbara also talked about Rosie O'Donnell's feud with Donald Trump and her departure from The View. Donald Trump versus Rosie O'Donnell Barbara Walters explains her jungle fever in the new memoir Audition and the details of her 70's affair with then married African-American Senator Edward W. Brooke. Watch Barbara Walters discuss Rosie O'Donnell's departure from the View. Click here to see the catfight between Rosie and conservative co-host Elisabeth Hasseback that led to Rosie getting fired from the View. OPRAH BARBARA WALTERS PART 3 One part of her book that's been getting attention is the revelation of her affair in the '70s with the then-married Senator EDWARD BROOKE, and on page 256 she opens up about their secret trysts and something he once said to her. Sometimes when he said that I was the oldest woman he had ever been with, I thought of telling him: 'Oh yeah? Well you are the blackest man I have ever been with.' But the truth is, it didn't matter. source Oprah conducted a recap show with updates on her past interviews from the week. Oprah expressed her shock over Mariah Carey's marriage. But everyone agreed that the Barbara Walters tell all about who she's had sex with should have been kept under wraps. Barbara Walters reluctantly admitted to sleeping with her first television boss on the Audition television special with Charles Gibson. Barbara Walters said she already had her job when she had sex with her boss. But hasn't anyone noticed that Barbara Walters has the habit of not always telling the truth when the camera is rolling? We've gotta agree with that one about the Barbara Walters sex talk. Does anyone want to hear about their grandparents sex lives? We all know they did it at least one time to make our parents... but it still makes you go...ewww...that's too much information. Barbara Walters' remark about her desire to call Senator Brooke the blackest man I have ever been with wasn't a compliment to the reputation of the first African-American elected by popular vote to the United States Senate. Many people would actually consider the phrase the blackest man I have ever been with to be an offensive derogatory term or ethnic slur. source Star Jones is speaking out against Barbara Walters for including her in her new memoir, Audition. In the book, Walters claims Jones forced her to lie about her gastric bypass surgery on The View. Walters also reveals that she had an affair with then-married Senator Edward Brooke during the 1970s. Usmagazine.com caught up with Jones (who recently split from husband Al Reynolds) as she left a tennis workout in NYC Wednesday. “It is a sad day when an icon like Barbara Walters, in the sunset of her life, is reduced to publicly branding herself as an adulterer, humiliating an innocent family with accounts of her illicit affair and speaking negatively against me all for the sake of selling a book, Jones told Us. It speaks to her true character.”source When contacted by Us, Walters' rep said, I will not dignify this with a comment. Barbara's written words say it all!

I was a relatively minor player a couple of years ago in the Oprah Winfrey literary scandals that received so much attention in the media and by people in the book biz who care about such silly nonsense. I call it the Oprah Winfrey scandals because it really wasn't about James Frey or JT LeRoy or to a much lesser extent, me. It was about Oprah because America loves Oprah. Why. Easy. Because Oprah has a lot of money. The woman is filthy rich and we love the filthy rich in America. It's that simple. Especially when they fuck up and Oprah had fucked up by turning James Frey into the literary superstar he is today. I don't like James Frey. I find his work ordinary and pedestrian. He's an opportunist of the Oprah sort. I'm an oportunist of the get it while you can sort. They were sort of made for each other. I do miss JT LeRoy. JT is dead as a doornail. Anyone who thought JT was real is an idiot. JT's coffin has been welded shut. My corpse was simply cremated. You will find few artifacts that I even existed. There is an upside to exile, too. Arriving at mainstream publishing from gay publishing was like going into battle with one hand tied behind your back. To this day, it continues to amaze me that my having published gay books was a scandal to so many people. I did write about having published those books in THE BLOOD RUNS LIKE A RIVER THROUGH MY DREAMS. The fact that nobody read that book was hardly news. Either was the reality that Tim Barrus was Nasdijj. It was simply news to people who did not know. A lot of people knew. It's meaningless. So were my books. Am I sorry I wrote them. Definitely. It was a waste of time. Life is far too short. The reality is that I don't give a flying fuck about those books, and, if the "truth" be known, about books in general. It's not the physical books themselves. I suppose there's a place for books with ideas. There are few enough of those. It's about the SMALLNESS of the people who make the books who are the machine. It is a small machine and it's getting smaller. Gay writers were particularly outraged in some kind of strange ghetto mentality that wants to punish anyone for daring to leave the group. You leave the safety of the ghetto at your peril. It's a hard jump to make. It's not a secret that the gatekeepers in mainstream publishing want nothing to do with gay writers. Just like ethnic writers, they're kept in their little marketing boxes. You won't find too many of them at Esquire Magazine. The one thing I totally underestimated was the outraged jealousy of other writers. The warpath got a little dull and a little crowded with them. Again, it was to be expected (my naivette has been subsequently corrected) and as such was ordinary. Time Magazine sticks its middle finger up my butt. I've done bigger and better than Time magazine. My biggest mistake wasn't Nasdijj. It was giving Esquire Magazine access to my life and an interview. A big miscalculation. How anyone could sit in my home and pour over pictures of my children and then go back to the magazine and wonder if my kids ever existed in the first place is indicative of just exactly how patently absurd the entire situation was. There's a beginning, a middle, and an end to this. It begins with Esquire ignoring me for years. I sent them dozens of manuscripts. Not a peep out of them. Then, suddenly, they loved me. Then, just as suddenly, they hated me. It comes. It goes. It doesn't mean a fucking thing. I think I proved my point. That to break into mainstream publishing it's the word, BREAK that is operant. Go ahead and break the rules. If you fucking dare. I'm not sure that getting published in any of these mainstream places is worth the grief. The only people who really care about any of this nonsense are the people in publishing. It's a very small world. It's a tiny group. They all know one another. They play musical jobs the way I've seen young people go at PlayStation. And like most big fish in small ponds, you can easily arrive at the conclusion that the pond you live in is the world. Silly you. Not even close. Frey goes on to sell millions of books and publishing loves anyone who can do that. Very few people are allowed to do that. It doesn't matter what Frey did. It doesn't matter what Laura Albert did. It doesn't matter what I did. What matters is how many books you sell and that is the only reality of any consequence. Publishing -- gay or straight; it hardly matters -- doesn't like my attitude so I'm kicked out. I move to Paris and start Cinematheque. I teach art. Painting. Photography and film. I do video workshops. I am allowed to focus on poetry. JT LeRoy writes on the Internet and who will be surprised when James Frey goes triumphantly back on Oprah. Comes around. Goes around. Yesterday's news. Out of the three of us, Frey's books are the vanilla ones. Rehab will set you free. Get a clue. Rehab is not going to set you free and either is god. Only you can do that. But first you are compelled to define who you are. Setting free. I was a Nobody Knows Who You Are kind of writer. Today, I'm just a Nobody Knows Who You Are kind of person and that is fine by me. I am off the radar screens and am thankful for it. Going into hiding works. I can do my AIDS work without worrying that some journalist is prying over my shoulder and is going to interpret it. Or name names. Of the innocent. I can make my art without thinking some critic is going to attack it or interpret or misinterpret it. I don't even put my own name on most of it anymore because it is no longer necessary. To me. I am allowed the freedom to make mistakes. Show me the artist who is allowed that. When was the last time a poet was on Charlie Rose. Homer could not get on Charlie Rose and Homer had a publicist. What's really interesting to me these days is the challenge of connecting images to words. Not the words. The words themselves are boring me to death. Language for the sake of language is as redundant as Time magazine giving me the finger. Putting poetry to video. This time, I don't expect to break in anywhere. The poetry editors would kick my ass, too, if they could. They're not different from other editors. They just have less money. It's not about a breaking through. I have already done that. It's about the work. The work is post-breaking through. By the time it gets to you, the consumer, I'm breaking through to something entirely different because that is how it works. Art. Is. Dangerous. Whether you look at it or not. It's about the work. It has nothing to do with you. You, the consumer. Whether you can recognize it or not, the reality (or the truth) is that you are irrelevant. Truth to power. So eat me. Writing books is not the so-called accomplishment it's cracked up to be. Most of it is illusion. They don't want your writing. What they want are writers who understand conformity. You get on Oprah or you don't. Conformity isn't what I do. If I could do conformity, I would. But I can't. What fascinates me is change. I want to take icons and twist them to make them into forms and shapes we have never seen before or heard before or watch move before. I am interested in how icons represent illusions. Oprah is an icon. I would go there but Oprah is too obvious a cliche. The quaint-if-dated illusion that there is such a thing as a native american. I would go there. The icon of the music video as a form of marketing expression. Not an expression of sexuality. I already go there. Sexual icons that supposedly represent the fundamental nature of the human being when, in fact, human beings are extraordinarily complex and filled with contradictions. Reality is nuanced and icons would have you believe that there are absolutes in a universe that is in constant motion and there is no such animal as an absolute. So I am taking icons and I am juxtaposing them and making them look and sound and behave in ways you have not seen before. Because I can. I am particularly excited about our future projects and what we are able to do with Blip TV. I have only started to explore this. I haven't found my voice in video yet the way I found it in writing. But I will. We're getting there. I am bored and tired by all the snarky hate at YouTube. Those are now the liabilities that define the animal. YouTube has allowed the rest of you to essentially define it. It has not been able to define itself. The culture embraces something and then it turns around and ruins it with hatred. The haters always win. I don't know if that says something about America and what American culture is actually about or if it goes more to humanity or maybe it's both. I hung in there with YouTube longer than I am able to hang with most publishers. I come. I go. Publishers scream they have options on your next work. Publishers have all screamed before and it doesn't mean anything. Video trumps the book. Mainly because producing video is so immediate. I don't have to wait for some elite New York prick to get to me. I am attracted by the immediacy of digital and how it's compelling. But I am not attracted to the hate or to the people who use hate as their brushes and their paints. Not even because it's simply distasteful, which it is, but much of Art is that. But because it's so one dimensional and just plain dull. Been there. Done that. How it defines the haters is not in their awareness. But it's in mine and I think YouTube has bottomed out. Sadly, it was the book editors who used to warn me. "Without us," they'd say, "without an editor to negotiate the noise and give it selectivity and context, it will become a monster." As David Mamet says: blah, blah, blah, rah, tee, tah. I do not know if the editors were right. In my book, editors are hardly ever right. But I am thinking they were onto something even if they didn't know and still don't know what it is or was because their reality is so isolated. I think the answer is to learn how to become your own editor. A shopping list of consumer items is not creativity. Youtube is no longer about creativity. It's about conformity. It's about the voices of hate that speak the loudest. It's been reduced to the ordinary. I predict that the fad of it will like most pop culture fads, ease. We will look back at YouTube and wonder what that was about. The digital hula hoop. Now that Esquire has itself faded, I still look at the old photos of my kids and it's easy to get lost in regret and remembering. The loss of my son was a death -- at least to me -- and it doesn't really matter what you think about it one way or the other. Esquire never involved you at that level. They didn't know how to speak to it as a poignant event. Or an event at all. They made it ordinary. They failed to touch you. Touching you was what I did. I did learn something. People talk about the five stages of grief. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. And acceptance. My sending Esquire that story was bargaining. I am here to tell you there's another stage to this and maybe it's the most important one and it's called MOVING ON. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Moving On. I'm on the road a lot. And moving on is where I live. It's also where I work. You can have your ideas of home and place and family and tribe and absolutes. I am here to SHOW you (versus telling you) with my work that all of these things are utterly ephemeral. What's important is that you define yourself. You are not who they say you are. As an artist -- even one who explores issues of identity -- you are who and what YOU say you are. You will either touch us or you won't. You will either explore something new with us or you won't. You will either make us more aware as human beings or you won't. You will either move on or you won't. We will either wonder where you went or we won't care. Celebrity is nothing and celebrities know this and it terrifies them where they live. My son is either with me or he isn't. Yet. Ironically. And nevertheless. There are no absolutes. Perhaps he's with me somehow in these photographs I paw through on this desk. Perhaps he was with me in that piece in Esquire. I do not pretend to know. There are only stories that tell their own truths and there are the people those stories are about. Whether a New York magazine prints them or not. Whether there is such a thing as a New York magazine or not. Whether there is a New York or not. I plan on spending the summer with my granddaughter, Olivia Bolivia. She's two. She has pigtails. She lives in La Paz. We have decided that the two of us are "the blonds and the blonder." Hair is very odd. Mine started going grey -- and then it changed -- and now I look more like Olivia Bolivia. I do not mind being two and at my advanced state, and going blond; I don't mind being ridiculous either. Olivia Bolivia will learn to swim this summer but please don't wear the pink bathing suit because it gives me a headache. I plan on taking a zillion photographs. A zillion videos. I am going to paint a zillion paintings. Someday someone can paw through them and wonder about our stories. The truth: there is no middle ground. Art is dangerous. I'm Tim Barrus.

I was a relatively minor player a couple of years ago in the Oprah Winfrey literary scandals that received so much attention in the media and by people in the book biz who care about such silly nonsense. I call it the Oprah Winfrey scandals because it really wasn't about James Frey or JT LeRoy or to a much lesser extent, me. It was about Oprah because America loves Oprah. Why. Easy. Because Oprah has a lot of money. The woman is filthy rich and we love the filthy rich in America. It's that simple. Especially when they fuck up and Oprah had fucked up by turning James Frey into the literary superstar he is today. I don't like James Frey. I find his work ordinary and pedestrian. He's an opportunist of the Oprah sort. I'm an oportunist of the get it while you can sort. They were sort of made for each other. I do miss JT LeRoy. JT is dead as a doornail. Anyone who thought JT was real is an idiot. JT's coffin has been welded shut. My corpse was simply cremated. You will find few artifacts that I even existed. There is an upside to exile, too. Arriving at mainstream publishing from gay publishing was like going into battle with one hand tied behind your back. To this day, it continues to amaze me that my having published gay books was a scandal to so many people. I did write about having published those books in THE BLOOD RUNS LIKE A RIVER THROUGH MY DREAMS. The fact that nobody read that book was hardly news. Either was the reality that Tim Barrus was Nasdijj. It was simply news to people who did not know. A lot of people knew. It's meaningless. So were my books. Am I sorry I wrote them. Definitely. It was a waste of time. Life is far too short. The reality is that I don't give a flying fuck about those books, and, if the "truth" be known, about books in general. It's not the physical books themselves. I suppose there's a place for books with ideas. There are few enough of those. It's about the SMALLNESS of the people who make the books who are the machine. It is a small machine and it's getting smaller. Gay writers were particularly outraged in some kind of strange ghetto mentality that wants to punish anyone for daring to leave the group. You leave the safety of the ghetto at your peril. It's a hard jump to make. It's not a secret that the gatekeepers in mainstream publishing want nothing to do with gay writers. Just like ethnic writers, they're kept in their little marketing boxes. You won't find too many of them at Esquire Magazine. The one thing I totally underestimated was the outraged jealousy of other writers. The warpath got a little dull and a little crowded with them. Again, it was to be expected (my naivette has been subsequently corrected) and as such was ordinary. Time Magazine sticks its middle finger up my butt. I've done bigger and better than Time magazine. My biggest mistake wasn't Nasdijj. It was giving Esquire Magazine access to my life and an interview. A big miscalculation. How anyone could sit in my home and pour over pictures of my children and then go back to the magazine and wonder if my kids ever existed in the first place is indicative of just exactly how patently absurd the entire situation was. There's a beginning, a middle, and an end to this. It begins with Esquire ignoring me for years. I sent them dozens of manuscripts. Not a peep out of them. Then, suddenly, they loved me. Then, just as suddenly, they hated me. It comes. It goes. It doesn't mean a fucking thing. I think I proved my point. That to break into mainstream publishing it's the word, BREAK that is operant. Go ahead and break the rules. If you fucking dare. I'm not sure that getting published in any of these mainstream places is worth the grief. The only people who really care about any of this nonsense are the people in publishing. It's a very small world. It's a tiny group. They all know one another. They play musical jobs the way I've seen young people go at PlayStation. And like most big fish in small ponds, you can easily arrive at the conclusion that the pond you live in is the world. Silly you. Not even close. Frey goes on to sell millions of books and publishing loves anyone who can do that. Very few people are allowed to do that. It doesn't matter what Frey did. It doesn't matter what Laura Albert did. It doesn't matter what I did. What matters is how many books you sell and that is the only reality of any consequence. Publishing -- gay or straight; it hardly matters -- doesn't like my attitude so I'm kicked out. I move to Paris and start Cinematheque. I teach art. Painting. Photography and film. I do video workshops. I am allowed to focus on poetry. JT LeRoy writes on the Internet and who will be surprised when James Frey goes triumphantly back on Oprah. Comes around. Goes around. Yesterday's news. Out of the three of us, Frey's books are the vanilla ones. Rehab will set you free. Get a clue. Rehab is not going to set you free and either is god. Only you can do that. But first you are compelled to define who you are. Setting free. I was a Nobody Knows Who You Are kind of writer. Today, I'm just a Nobody Knows Who You Are kind of person and that is fine by me. I am off the radar screens and am thankful for it. Going into hiding works. I can do my AIDS work without worrying that some journalist is prying over my shoulder and is going to interpret it. Or name names. Of the innocent. I can make my art without thinking some critic is going to attack it or interpret or misinterpret it. I don't even put my own name on most of it anymore because it is no longer necessary. To me. I am allowed the freedom to make mistakes. Show me the artist who is allowed that. When was the last time a poet was on Charlie Rose. Homer could not get on Charlie Rose and Homer had a publicist. What's really interesting to me these days is the challenge of connecting images to words. Not the words. The words themselves are boring me to death. Language for the sake of language is as redundant as Time magazine giving me the finger. Putting poetry to video. This time, I don't expect to break in anywhere. The poetry editors would kick my ass, too, if they could. They're not different from other editors. They just have less money. It's not about a breaking through. I have already done that. It's about the work. The work is post-breaking through. By the time it gets to you, the consumer, I'm breaking through to something entirely different because that is how it works. Art. Is. Dangerous. Whether you look at it or not. It's about the work. It has nothing to do with you. You, the consumer. Whether you can recognize it or not, the reality (or the truth) is that you are irrelevant. Truth to power. So eat me. Writing books is not the so-called accomplishment it's cracked up to be. Most of it is illusion. They don't want your writing. What they want are writers who understand conformity. You get on Oprah or you don't. Conformity isn't what I do. If I could do conformity, I would. But I can't. What fascinates me is change. I want to take icons and twist them to make them into forms and shapes we have never seen before or heard before or watch move before. I am interested in how icons represent illusions. Oprah is an icon. I would go there but Oprah is too obvious a cliche. The quaint-if-dated illusion that there is such a thing as a native american. I would go there. The icon of the music video as a form of marketing expression. Not an expression of sexuality. I already go there. Sexual icons that supposedly represent the fundamental nature of the human being when, in fact, human beings are extraordinarily complex and filled with contradictions. Reality is nuanced and icons would have you believe that there are absolutes in a universe that is in constant motion and there is no such animal as an absolute. So I am taking icons and I am juxtaposing them and making them look and sound and behave in ways you have not seen before. Because I can. I am particularly excited about our future projects and what we are able to do with Blip TV. I have only started to explore this. I haven't found my voice in video yet the way I found it in writing. But I will. We're getting there. I am bored and tired by all the snarky hate at YouTube. Those are now the liabilities that define the animal. YouTube has allowed the rest of you to essentially define it. It has not been able to define itself. The culture embraces something and then it turns around and ruins it with hatred. The haters always win. I don't know if that says something about America and what American culture is actually about or if it goes more to humanity or maybe it's both. I hung in there with YouTube longer than I am able to hang with most publishers. I come. I go. Publishers scream they have options on your next work. Publishers have all screamed before and it doesn't mean anything. Video trumps the book. Mainly because producing video is so immediate. I don't have to wait for some elite New York prick to get to me. I am attracted by the immediacy of digital and how it's compelling. But I am not attracted to the hate or to the people who use hate as their brushes and their paints. Not even because it's simply distasteful, which it is, but much of Art is that. But because it's so one dimensional and just plain dull. Been there. Done that. How it defines the haters is not in their awareness. But it's in mine and I think YouTube has bottomed out. Sadly, it was the book editors who used to warn me. "Without us," they'd say, "without an editor to negotiate the noise and give it selectivity and context, it will become a monster." As David Mamet says: blah, blah, blah, rah, tee, tah. I do not know if the editors were right. In my book, editors are hardly ever right. But I am thinking they were onto something even if they didn't know and still don't know what it is or was because their reality is so isolated. I think the answer is to learn how to become your own editor. A shopping list of consumer items is not creativity. Youtube is no longer about creativity. It's about conformity. It's about the voices of hate that speak the loudest. It's been reduced to the ordinary. I predict that the fad of it will like most pop culture fads, ease. We will look back at YouTube and wonder what that was about. The digital hula hoop. Now that Esquire has itself faded, I still look at the old photos of my kids and it's easy to get lost in regret and remembering. The loss of my son was a death -- at least to me -- and it doesn't really matter what you think about it one way or the other. Esquire never involved you at that level. They didn't know how to speak to it as a poignant event. Or an event at all. They made it ordinary. They failed to touch you. Touching you was what I did. I did learn something. People talk about the five stages of grief. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. And acceptance. My sending Esquire that story was bargaining. I am here to tell you there's another stage to this and maybe it's the most important one and it's called MOVING ON. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Moving On. I'm on the road a lot. And moving on is where I live. It's also where I work. You can have your ideas of home and place and family and tribe and absolutes. I am here to SHOW you (versus telling you) with my work that all of these things are utterly ephemeral. What's important is that you define yourself. You are not who they say you are. As an artist -- even one who explores issues of identity -- you are who and what YOU say you are. You will either touch us or you won't. You will either explore something new with us or you won't. You will either make us more aware as human beings or you won't. You will either move on or you won't. We will either wonder where you went or we won't care. Celebrity is nothing and celebrities know this and it terrifies them where they live. My son is either with me or he isn't. Yet. Ironically. And nevertheless. There are no absolutes. Perhaps he's with me somehow in these photographs I paw through on this desk. Perhaps he was with me in that piece in Esquire. I do not pretend to know. There are only stories that tell their own truths and there are the people those stories are about. Whether a New York magazine prints them or not. Whether there is such a thing as a New York magazine or not. Whether there is a New York or not. I plan on spending the summer with my granddaughter, Olivia Bolivia. She's two. She has pigtails. She lives in La Paz. We have decided that the two of us are "the blonds and the blonder." Hair is very odd. Mine started going grey -- and then it changed -- and now I look more like Olivia Bolivia. I do not mind being two and at my advanced state, and going blond; I don't mind being ridiculous either. Olivia Bolivia will learn to swim this summer but please don't wear the pink bathing suit because it gives me a headache. I plan on taking a zillion photographs. A zillion videos. I am going to paint a zillion paintings. Someday someone can paw through them and wonder about our stories. The truth: there is no middle ground. Art is dangerous. I'm Tim Barrus.

In the final class in Oprah and Eckhart Tolle's series, learn how to continue your own spiritual growth and apply your new consciousness to the world around you.

In the final class in Oprah and Eckhart Tolle's series, learn how to continue your own spiritual growth and apply your new consciousness to the world around you.

ask me please?? Author: voicetwister78 Keywords: oprah winfrey Added: May 3, 2008

nakks Author: voicetwister78 Keywords: oprah winfrey Added: May 3, 2008

On DVD May 6th! From executive producer Oprah Winfrey and based on Mitch Albom s New York Times best-seller of the same name, Lionsgate will release - Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day. The film stars Academy Award winner Ellen Burstyn and Emmy Award winner Michael Imperioli (HBO s The Sopranos ). Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day originally aired on December 9, 2007 on ABC. Chick Benetto (Imperioli) is a broken-down former baseball player who has collapsed into alcoholism and despair. He returns one night to his small hometown with plans to take his own life. At the final moment, he is magically granted one more day with his departed mother (Burstyn), who illuminates the secrets of both of their lives and shows him a way to redemption.

On DVD May 6th! From executive producer Oprah Winfrey and based on Mitch Albom s New York Times best-seller of the same name, Lionsgate will release - Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day. The film stars Academy Award winner Ellen Burstyn and Emmy Award winner Michael Imperioli (HBO s The Sopranos ). Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day originally aired on December 9, 2007 on ABC. Chick Benetto (Imperioli) is a broken-down former baseball player who has collapsed into alcoholism and despair. He returns one night to his small hometown with plans to take his own life. At the final moment, he is magically granted one more day with his departed mother (Burstyn), who illuminates the secrets of both of their lives and shows him a way to redemption.

On DVD May 6th! From executive producer Oprah Winfrey and based on Mitch Albom s New York Times best-seller of the same name, Lionsgate will release - Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day. The film stars Academy Award winner Ellen Burstyn and Emmy Award winner Michael Imperioli (HBO s The Sopranos ). Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day originally aired on December 9, 2007 on ABC. Chick Benetto (Imperioli) is a broken-down former baseball player who has collapsed into alcoholism and despair. He returns one night to his small hometown with plans to take his own life. At the final moment, he is magically granted one more day with his departed mother (Burstyn), who illuminates the secrets of both of their lives and shows him a way to redemption.

On DVD May 6th! From executive producer Oprah Winfrey and based on Mitch Albom s New York Times best-seller of the same name, Lionsgate will release - Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day. The film stars Academy Award winner Ellen Burstyn and Emmy Award winner Michael Imperioli (HBO s The Sopranos ). Oprah Winfrey Presents: Mitch Albom s For One More Day originally aired on December 9, 2007 on ABC. Chick Benetto (Imperioli) is a broken-down former baseball player who has collapsed into alcoholism and despair. He returns one night to his small hometown with plans to take his own life. At the final moment, he is magically granted one more day with his departed mother (Burstyn), who illuminates the secrets of both of their lives and shows him a way to redemption.

Excerpts of Zakiya Randall also known as "Z" gives inspirational speech to Hundreds of Children across the Nation. Golf Teen Sensation 'Z' gives an exceptional well delivered message to Hunderds of Children across the Globe. Educational, Enlightening and Very Entertaining!

During live show, magician sets new world record for holding breath.

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It's one of the most important questions we all ask ourselves: What is my true purpose in life? Learn how to integrate the search for your inner purpose with the demands of daily life.

It's one of the most important questions we all ask ourselves: What is my true purpose in life? Learn how to integrate the search for your inner purpose with the demands of daily life.

A change of thought Author: bigprawn26d Keywords: Oprah Winfrey Added: April 26, 2008