Laurie Markvart's Blog

I like writing straight from the top of my head without pausing to fix or revise—just spilling it out with pen on paper. It’s the best way to glimpse what’s really going on inside. And sure, I usually regret it immediately, but I’m just self-aware (and stubborn) enough to post it anyway.

2025 – Laurie Markvart

Note: I’ve narrated and recorded an audio version of this post, waiting for you at the bottom of the page. Listen on its own, or press play while you read along—your choice.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the strange, beautiful way our bodies carry us through life. This one body. Yes, I know we only get one body, obviously. And maybe that is the point?

But have you ever really, really thought about it for yourself? For your body?

What started this is that recently I looked at some photos from when I was in my 20s—the same age my son is now—and it struck me that this is the same body I’ve carried my whole life, from infancy, childhood, my teens, my 20s, 30s, 40s, and now my 50s. This body has seen me through so much, constantly regenerating, carrying me forward.

These are the same hands that once held my dad’s when I was a little girl and scared. The same hands that later held his hand when he was dying. The same hands that learned piano and picked up a guitar at 14—and still play today.

They’ve changed, of course—some deeper lines, age spots—but they’re still mine, moving with different energies through the years.

These are the same eyes too—the ones my mother gazed into when I was a baby, wondering who I’d be. The same blue of my eyes that has held my every joy, every loss, every moment of my life.

Have you ever thought about that with yours? It’s wild to realize this one body carries you through every experience.

Sometimes looking at an old photo feels like stepping into another lifetime, right? Back then I didn’t know what I know now. The smells, the sensations, the way I moved through the world back then—different. But still, the same body carried me. And yours has carried you too.

Maybe it’s like a car: you buy it new, it has that shine and “new” smell, but after you’ve driven it coast to coast it’s different. It smells like drive-through food, its seats worn, paint scratched, changed—but still the same car. And now it tells a story. That’s how the body feels. Have you ever really thought about what your body has carried you through and what stories it tells? That makes me think of aging.

Aging is something we need to embrace, because it’s proof that we’ve made it this far. We are winning!

As I get older, I see more lines in my face, more gray hairs, and sometimes instead of embracing them as proof of a well-lived life, I want my youthful appearance back—because I still have youthful aspirations I’d like to tackle. Quite honestly, they’re never going to happen. And that’s okay, because I have other opportunities that are better embraced with my current age.

So instead of thinking I need to look younger, I actually need to look exactly the way I am. But maybe I also hold onto youth because we live in a society—and I work in an industry—that is defined by it. I live in LA. I work in entertainment. And we do obsess over youth too much. I wish we didn’t—and I didn’t.

What we need to do is celebrate our elders, because they keep us in line. Our elders carry the knowledge that help us not repeat the same mistakes. My dad used to say, “The first moment we forget our history or mistakes, we repeat them.”

My body will carry me until it can’t anymore. And then it will be time for a new transition, one I believe will be extraordinarily beautiful.

Until then, I’m honoring this body for all it has done—survived, created life, endured, celebrated—and for how it still carries me through the lifelong journey of parenting and everything else.

This IS the same body that thrashed around on stage singing heavy metal music in my 20s. The same vocal cords that later in life would cry in grief, laugh in joy, and sing lullabies to my son—with the same heart that keeps beating for all of it.

These are the same feet that ran track in high school, skated on ice, walked in high heels and still do today! And the same lungs that took my first breath, sang every song, and have carried me through every moment up to today. When you think about yourself, I’m sure you have the same thoughts, now, right?

Aging is beautiful, but it’s also hard, complicated. My mind still feels youthful—curious, hopeful—and I want my body to match that energy, to never fail me. Pre-arthritic fingers crossed.

I’ve worked hard to keep my body strong, and still, bodies do exactly what they’re meant to do: survive, endure, change. They carry us through heartbreak and healing, love and loss, beginnings and endings. And they deserve to be honored in their aging—celebrated for the stories each year adds to them.

Because when you drive a car coast to coast, you can’t expect it to act like it’s on its first miles. But you give it extra care, extra love when it reaches milestones. Our bodies are no different. They deserve the same gratitude. And maybe, just maybe, this reminder is for you as much as it is for me.

© 2025 Laurie Markvart

That’s a lot of space,

For an empty heart,

To fill a room that was torn apart.

How do you do it? 

Stay around with aches and disregarded sound.

Beaten, but a trusted mind you’d say.

That’s a lie.

There is not always another day. 

I’m going to leave,

And enjoy the show,

The never-ending need to grow and love a different soul.

I think you should care to help yourself,

You’re aware.

Fix that massive hole in your heart,

It’s only the start. 

This morning I was going through old notebooks and journals, which I have many, where I scribble and scrabble thoughts, poems, songs, commentary about bills, ideas for a book, etc. (I should probably separate my thoughts from my bills and put into different books!)

The above poem I wrote at some point in 2023. I love stumbling on old poems cause it gives me insight to something I was going through at the time. Journals are definitely an emotional time capsule!

And while this poem was me blasting a thought to paper, ‘cause I can tell by my messy handwriting that I wrote it in one take, I don’t want to now tweak or edit it for a “better” poetic outcome because then it means I’m tweaking a memory. But I did change two words before posting this. Just to make a rhyme. (Eye rolling)

Have you ever looked back at old notes or journals to see where your mind and heart was? And then realize that you have grown so intensely?

Let me know.

X, L

Trust is a funny thing.

We expect to trust others or hope to, and yet we can barely trust ourselves and our lack of boundaries, bruised heart, needs, desires, addictions, and frail convictions.

To trust oneself takes patience and perseverance. Together. And large amounts of grace. But who keeps the score, rallies the inner troops and verifies the promises? Who’s the gatekeeper? Self? Can you trust that the job of self trust is getting done?

For trust is a funny thing.

-Laurie Markvart – June 1, 2025

©️Laurie Markvart 2025

You and Me

I’m in the wings,
But I need center stage.
I want the light,
But there’s comfort in the rage.

I could never tell,
Where I’d land.
But then came me,
Fading somewhere in you, convincedly.

I must fall back into me,
To get the love from you.
But I’ll leave you, maybe I’m gone,
Don’t shelve me, forget me; damn that’s another song.

A touch, a whisper,
No complaint.
A never-ending answer,
To my restraint.

© Laurie Markvart 2025

Sometimes funny, sometimes harrowing, always moving, SOMEWHERE IN THE MUSIC, I’LL FIND ME is a coming-of-age memoir that illustrates the power of a dream to shape a lifetime, no matter what fate has in store.

Reviews say:

“Markvart’s storytelling chops are impressive as she deals candidly with issues of grief, mental illness, and the ups and downs of trying to make it as an artist. In the end, it’s also an engaging meditation on a daughter’s decadeslong quest to live up to her mother’s ambitions for her.” – Kirkus Reviews

“An engaging story that combines music and moxie while exploring the impact of loss. Markvart conveys her love for music in a moving and elegant manner while her emotional pain, anxiety, and the often uncomfortable moments she endures are palpable on the page. Somewhere in the Music, I’ll Find Me is a unique and personal story about music, grief, and the pressures of pursuing a dream that will undoubtedly inspire readers.” – The BookLife Prize

Want to hear the audiobook for FREE?

The author is providing 10 complimentary Audible downloads to listeners in the US & UK. Receive your free copy at: Contact or send an email to: info@lauriemarkvartdiary.com.

Click here to listen to a sample from the audiobook:

https://www.audible.com/pd/Somewhere-in-the-Music-Ill-Find-Me-Audiobook/B0CM9MLKPP

Thank you!

It Was All You

I constantly think of you.
Obsessed.
Like a bear after a fish,
A bird after a worm,
A song in search of a voice.

The first sight of you,
My intuition was so full I thought I’d faint.
It told me everything that trapped my heart.
In one second, it was all you.

I am sure of your importance to me,
This good fortune.
My spirit knows the story,
Perhaps it knows its end.

I’ll go on, not knowing now or ever.
But to trust is a course for truth.
I must leave it all to fate,
Just like the first and last time we met,
Now, only to wonder of my importance to you.

© 2024 Laurie Markvart

This past weekend, Feb 8-10th, 2024, I was honored to be a panelist/presenter at the 2024 AWP (Association of Writers and Writing Programs) Conference and Bookfair in Kansas City. I spoke on a panel titled “Navigating Stormy Waters: Telling Your Tales When They’re Hard Stories to Tell.” The panel included four acclaimed and awarded authors, and I was awed to be involved.

For me, to share with the audience how I approached writing my memoir, which is filled with many stormy waters of loss, grief, addiction, and mental illness (as well as humor, love, music, persistence, and resilience), was a bit mind-blowing. I remember all too well how, in the beginning, I struggled to write my book, but upon completion and publication, I realized it could be done!

Also, I spread the word on the negative stigma of mental illness, how to correct this, and finally, meet many other authors who continue to inspire me!

My next appearance is at Barnes & Noble at The Grove in Los Angeles on Sunday, February 18, from 12 to 2 p.m. PT. I will be signing books and continuing to spread the word on mental health advocacy. Please come see me and have a chat!

If you like listening to a book instead of reading, my Audible (audiobook) is available here at the link below. Yes, I narrated the audiobook, and it includes my music!

https://www.audible.com/pd/Somewhere-in-the-Music-Ill-Find-Me-Audiobook/B0CM9MLKPP?action_code=ASSGB149080119000H&share_location=pdp

Be kind to yourself and others and I hope to see you soon!

X, Laurie