Laurie Markvart's Diary

A Tribute to My Late Mom, Her Persistence, and Mark Hamill’s Willingness

THE AUDIO VERSION OF THIS BLOG CAN BE HEARD HERE:

A long time ago in a galaxy far…okay, you’ve heard that one already. But, my story is just as epic (in my mind anyway), especially since it involves my mother, and none other than Luke Skywalker himself, Mark Hamill.

I grew up in a tiny town in Wisconsin called Waterloo. When Star Wars came out in 1977, Waterloo’s population was about two-thousand people. The population now: three-thousand and some change. You get my drift: small, farming community in the land of milk, cheese, friendly people, and a take no shit, tell it like it is, gets the job done woman, my mother, Mary Ann Archie.

In 1977, Star Wars played for months at our one-screen theater in Waterloo called The Mode. My Mom would take us every weekend. As a kid, The Mode was more than a theater to me, it was a transport device that carried me all over the world by way of the movies. With Star Wars, it took me into another galaxy.

I can’t count how many times I saw Star Wars in 1977 because I don’t have enough fingers. But, I do remember, with each Star Wars film through 1983, I was a young teenager and smitten beyond belief with Mark Hamill. So much so that I inscribed with a permanent marker on the metal light pole in front of our house…Laurie Loves Mark Hamill. Naturally, I drew a heart around it, arrow included. I thought for sure if I made my love known to the Waterloo townsfolk and to the galaxy, maybe the Force would be with me and bring Mark Hamill to my little town of Waterloo and rescue me to more exciting places.

After graduating high school, I left Waterloo in hyperdrive. I was a budding musician and actress looking for new adventures. My aspirations took me to Minneapolis, San Antonio, Austin, New York City, and eventually landing in Los Angeles. All along the way, my mom would cheer me on from her stoop in Waterloo, encouraging me to reach for the stars. Until one day the stars came to her.

Lightspeed ahead to 2001-2002. Mom is still living her content life in Waterloo, and I’m now residing in Los Angeles, a struggling musician, and actress. The light pole and my admittance of love for Mark Hamill lost in my memory banks. Until Mom calls and announces the unbelievable. Mark Hamill is in Waterloo. He is filming a movie called Reeseville. Just a fact: Reeseville is another little town in Wisconsin. Just up the road from Waterloo. Population: Even smaller than Waterloo.

I recall the manic phone call as such:

“Laurie, Mark Hamill is in Waterloo. I can’t believe this! Mark Hamill! He’s here to film a movie. In little Waterloo! I wonder if he’ll eat at the diner? Do you want me to get his autograph? I’ll tell him about the light pole!”

I’m now a thirty-four-year-old woman reduced to an embarrassed teenager. I plead, “Oh, Mom! No, that’s crazy! I forgot about the light pole! No, no. Please, that’s not necessary.”

“But, Laurie. He’s Mark Hamill. And you’re someone too! You’re a musician and actress. I’ll bring him your headshot.”

“Oh, God, Mom, no. That’s just too much.”

“Nothing is too much for me, Laurie. I’ll get that autograph. You just wait,” she says and hangs up. Oh, crap.

Now, I’m horrified as I think she’ll just embarrass herself. I’m truly no-one, and for her to parade over to him with my headshot and declare my importance? And my adolescent love for him? Dreadful.

Reassuring myself, I think, I’ve been around the business enough to know there will be some form of security, a barricade, some type of force between her and Mark Hamill. Even in Waterloo. She won’t get near him. More importantly, I don’t want her feelings hurt. But then again, she is a force to reckon with. Or we could say…the force is strong with this one. Well, I think, May the Force be with you, Mom.

Days pass, and I don’t hear anything from Mom about Mark Hamill or the galaxy for that matter. I assume she didn’t meet him and had chosen to not confess her failure. Until I check the mail. There I find an 8 ½ x 11 manila envelope addressed in my mother’s handwriting to Laurie Marks. Also, there are multiple DO NOT BEND notices on it. Notable point…Laurie Marks is the stage name I used at the time, and it’s the name on the headshot Mom presumably put into the correct hand(s) to get an autograph from Mark Hamill. Hence, the contents of the manila envelope.

His autograph, on an 8 ½ x 11 piece of white paper, not only has his signature but his profession of love for me (okay, remember the fantasy part and the light pole here, people): Mark Hamill LOVES LAURIE MARKS! Yes, with an exclamation mark. He includes the heart around our names and the arrow. Jeez, he even went a bit further and included scalloped edging. I didn’t even do that on the pole! Damn, this guy is good. Well, he IS Luke Skywalker.

Impressed by his detailed autograph, I think…either he is that generous and with a good sense of humor to draw the heart and/or my mom is as persuasive and persistent as I know she is and he indulged her. Or, how about both.

She would never tell me the details on how she obtained the autograph, and I never pushed, honoring her cunning skills to follow through on something in which she sets her mind. She would only say, “I waited a long, long time but it was worth it, to get it for you.”

So, thank you, Mark Hamill. Oh, pause, can I call you Luke? Okay, sorry. Continuing…Thank you, because this is my first Mother’s Day without her. She passed in June 2016. Finding your autograph only reminds me how cool you are and how special she was – the actual force in our family.

And if by chance you did meet her in person that day in Waterloo, then you met a great broad. But, if she got your autograph through security, staff, and/or bribes (an offering of booze, cigarettes or a good joke), that is okay too. It doesn’t matter. The message of the light pole got to you, and your response made her day. You brought her to a more exciting place. And in return, my reward – a happy and star-struck Mom and the knowledge she would do anything for her family.

Oh, lastly and not lost on me at all, my long-time fantasy also fulfilled of an adolescent: a heart-shaped message, from Luke Skywalker, complete with an arrow. I guess the galaxy was listening.

A One Take Poem

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

October 11, 2025 0

The Same Body Carries It All

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.

September 1, 2025 0

Poetic Musings

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

August 5, 2025 0

Today’s Musing

June 16, 2025 0

Does Self Trust Work?

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

June 1, 2025 0

Poetic Ramblings – May 2, 2025

May 2, 2025 0

Poetic Musings – 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.

January 6, 2025 0

Free Audiobook: Emotional Memoir with Original Music | Limited US & UK Downloads

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!

July 23, 2024 0

Poetic Musings

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.

July 1, 2024 0