At the Age of Nine, when most young girls are playing with dolls and exploring the neighborhood on bicycles, Lana Wood was a professional movie actress--filling juvenile roles in films that starred her older sister Natalie. Following in her famous sibling's footsteps began to pall as Lana reached her mid-teens and she went to work at sales and secretarial jobs--until one day in 1964 when Lana, then 18, was offered a supporting role in a television episode of Dr. Kildare. "After the first day's shooting, I realized that acting was what I really wanted," Lana recalls. So she chucked her steno pad and plunged into TV full time, landing a succession of meaty parts, including 14 months as a resident of Peyton Place. Despite her ongoing record of independent achievement--she'll guest on a David Janssen-series pilot film this fall--Lana is still more often than not referred to as "Natalie Wood's little sister." Sister she is, but Lana's a big girl now and a versatile one as well. Her newest interest is writing highly personal and stylized poems--five of which we publish here for the first time, accompanied by photos of their bountifully gifted author.
You either do not really know Or you just do not want to know or You know And don't want to tell me.
Revelation and Revolution at a quick glance are often mistaken for each other.
Feeling down and Falling down are also quite the same.
As you raise your head to look out to the treetops you see feathery light branches breaking up the gray sky into tiny pieces and your thoughts are being lifted up and out scattering in the breeze investigating the clouds and then are brought back down by the rain and the monotony of noise will pacify till your fingers hurt from squeezing the arm of the chair and you'll stop and you'll go inside again.
The white unfinished wall that stands marked only with patches of time cobwebs of short experiences of life fingerprints of a few who have tried to touch but still empty and waiting waiting for the man with a full mind of pictures who will bring with him his colored ideas and slowly with soft hands and deliberate strokes will draw the warmth of freedom and love upon my mind.
