One Ton A Rock!

Four Hours Later.

Lower back resisting every move,
Arms akimbo,
Legs unsteady.

The olives helped.

I moved one ton of rock today. By myself.

Tomorrow we chop wood.

We'll load the truck bed that the ton of rocks I hauled yesterday from the now closed rock mine rested in while I slept the sleep of one who is up till 3:am, working the late shift, sleeping deep into the world's morning. Today, in four hours I unloaded it all. Forty three years old. No shrinking violet when it comes to back breaking labor. Not I.

Tomorrow we head for our land. The truck bed will return loaded with wood we have chopped together.

We will eat spaghetti thanks to the sauce you made today while I moved rock and pulled weeds. While you cooked you harvested tomatoes and pumpkins and laid down tarp on the remaining dozens of green tomatoes so tonight's predicted freeze will not turn them to mush before I have a chance to roast them. For The Sauce. Red chili sauce. Red gold. My newest culinary achievement... Those green tomatoes will ripen too thanks to our efforts.

A ton of rock to fill in and complete my Eye of The Universal in my garden's zeroscape.

Nine loads of sand and road bed moved to fill in low spots under the clothes-line, in our drive and where I attempt to recreate the feeling of a dry stream bed. Countless weeds and grass no longer growing where rocks lay. They have been moved to the two new compost heaps: Cosmic Compost. Heaps!

You have fed me your divine gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches with steamed broccoli and baked yams. The martini was a fine reward.

Now I stretch in candle light.

Our yard is nearly ready for it's winter rest.

One ton of rock later I am headed for mine.

Blessed Be!

Dessert & Remembrances

The night was sweet and The City fun to be in. Darcy took us to a favorite coffee & dessert bar to treat us to after dinner sweets and more conversation...

The waiter in the bar who made my almond float brought back the memory of floats I used to draw all the time when I was a teenager~ His voice a deep Romanian visit to dark and opulent times, somehow reviving my vampire awareness. Almost as if the vampire, in living forever, holds the keys to the human culture. Preserving memories for us that we can not be trusted to remember thanks to our selfish nature and short attention span. Or perhaps our need to forget when the worst has become reality...

Violence and oppression living next to sensuous luxury that invisible slave labor produces... it continues does it not?

And so we arrive, the I that is we, arrives at ancient memories... & dreams are revived.

Dream: Model ~ Make beautiful clothes ~ Paint passionate visions ~ Nurture creativity in others ~ Believe in miracles... Discover!

Talent honored with discipline and time.

I belong to my dreams, the instrument of their making. Becoming, I make real what cellular memories have left quietly steeping.

Skies and blood orange fire in the sky~
A vision of healing. A quest for redemption~

This day of Our Lord (*Be SURE to make the o in Lord with a female peace symbol!)
Wings of desire unfurl~
Mariposas emerge from struggle after deep slumber and fill the air with exuberant flights of nectar search.

The discovery theirs~
Light on Surprised Delight.
Blossoms satisfied...

These memories live on. Dreams persist.

Blessed BE!

Finding Icons

Inspiration, faith, sacrifice, and work ~ all self-oriented and a necessary ingredient of success; the Nazi's boiled it down to Arbeit Macht Frei... Chilling, exactly because it was forced on penalty, and more often than not, reward of death.

A comment, or observation, perhaps a question.

Self-awareness, discipline, and motivation. Can we be free if we pursue our dreams with work?

As a young person, can one even know the value of self-motivation? Did Mozart, or Bob Dylan, or CatPower understand their process and work it? Does it just flow for some who are gifted?

For me it has taken mistakes and reflection and second and third tries to know I missed something good because my eyes couldn't see, past internal dramas, the Path beyond.

Still I struggle to see ahead. My internal drama constant though experience brings wisdom. I begin to see opportunities along the way. I strive to catch them when they present. I'm finding that faith carries me from one disappointment to the next day's chores and a renewed effort at creating dreams into reality.

So, these petunias in the red pot sitting in the no-longer empty white wrought-iron stand give me comfort even as I lick the wounds of past tumbles and disappointments. Something in the purple and pink blooms I brought home whispers in my Soul: The day was a success even if you are too wounded to see it now.

Another day.

Let time pass. Watch the wither and fade of summer blooms bursting fresh everyday. See that in pulling yourself together you become a new person. Not afraid to let go and cry, strong enough to pick up your own pieces and make the days count. You will know yourself to be a potent and skillful person in even more difficult situations when they occur.

Arbeit Macht Frei
Freedom is a Struggle.
Fight the good fight.

Bare Feet Not Arms

She is running again. Not running from herself but finding the strength at her core. Wise child born calm in the midst of creative struggles. She runs for reason. Wisdom feeding on the manna of self-discovery.

She is finding her way. Leading the way for those wandering, wondering, willing to run.

Blessed Be!

Daughter Dear

My heart aches for your love.
My womb mourns your absence.
My eyes long for your smile.
My ears yearn for your laughter.

My mind knows your strength and intelligence.
My voice sings you to sleep, gentles your fears,
Celebrates your Soul.
You and I are one,
Cherished Child.

My heart misses your imagination.
My womb remains unused in this life
Waiting for a kind & peaceful world to bring us into being
Mother & Child.

My eyes see you in the innocence of others.
My ears delight in the chatter of children I meet.
My mind is ready with wisdom to share with any who will receive.
My voice is strong and sure as I encourage them to be all they dream,
to take time to be a child, to laugh and play and eat vegetables.

I am childless by choice and my heart is happy.
In motherhood I've not found my way.
In Life I've found Joy.

My heart glows with maternal fire.
I cast its light & warmth freely.
When it is felt and shared, Dear Child,
My Heart is warmed with Your Love.

Blessed Be!

Precious Kisses

He still remembers kisses~

Precious is there for him freely bestowing her Darling with kisses, with love in her eyes he responds to her with smiling eyes and pursed lips.
Precious kisses and Darling remembers
* the love at first sight
* the unwavering loyalty
* the Joy of this family
Darling remembers his Precious's kisses.
His mind had lost so much
but this one golden truth remained:

His Love is True.

Rest in Peace Daddy.

Blessed Be!

Reflecting...

Reflecting on being adrift...

Referring to myself as a bit of bark, worn down by caress of water's edge and the grasp it had on its branch of origin... Would an analyst say I lacked self confidence, or had far too much modesty? I think I've finally shown some humility... Not a seeded limb, to take root and sprout another tree, I am a barren bit of bark.... But maybe the shape is such that where it lands an artist will pick it up to use in creative expression. Maybe, the lay of the land will hold it cradled till time and space cover it in mud, and centuries later, when waters return, there will lay an ocher-red piece of petrified bark, magical and warm to the touch...

I find these kinds of things all the time. My eye is drawn to the odd shape, the incongruous detail. Bits like this are treasures to me. And now, to comfort me, things only Dad could know would delight me are turning up in my path. Dad is gone...

It's funny how many things directly related to his Being are in my path, popping up like in a pinball machine... Funny things that make me smile with the realization that Dad is everywhere! That he is able to comfort me with new skills. That he wants me to be happy.

His Boyceterous vim & vigah are restored 100-fold!!! (probably 100 to the millionth power!!!)

Still, my tears reveal how much I miss him.

Blessed Be!

Adrift

Adrift.

In process.

Transition in progress...

Like a bit of bark attached to its branch at the river's edge which has finally broken free after years of the water's caress, and the branch's hold.

Now it's free... Shaped by its dance with the water and its own grasp on the branch from which it grew ~released by time and gentle force of water's flow ~ now it rides, trusting, swirling on flowing surface of water.

Where will the Journey land it?

So, I twist this despair and relief and gratitude for Dad's release to Heaven into strength and vision. I know it will land me somewhere beautiful as the shape I float with is whittled and loved into being by Dad's loving, funny and intelligent care~ And, even as he walks his new path his Being is now expanded to walk with us as we gather in family to mourn our lost Daddy...

His light is cast upon my drift and will illuminate my Journey.

Blessed Be!

Lazy Tendencies ~The Waning

Lazy Tendencies ~The Waning

I observe that humans have a tendency to take the lazy way out. We grieve by sleeping and eating, even as that type of grieving yields only more to grieve for. We grow fat and despondent; things begin to fall apart around us and we wonder why, crunching away. I could easily go that way except for being on the cusp of a completely new me.

The new me is getting stronger and does not want me to go any further down the lazy path. There is a new fit tone me who wants to run, ride, dance, paint, create, and write in pursuit of my elusive dream!

I want to be running, writing stories, and illustrating ideas. I want to be with myself when an idea becomes a real thing to share with the world. The stronger more confident self is winning the battles more and more often even as these struggles wane... even my sad unsure self likes me better and is beginning to trust my choices.

So, run & contemplate the doubt of the voice, paint & contemplate the unsure strokes, ride and breathe life into the memories and stories.

I live so you can sing your songs.

Blessed Be!

Flowering Tears

Blooming.
Winter stems dry and pregnant with seed.
Clearing the land, seeds scatter everywhere.

No more laughter till tears glisten.
No more disagreement in philosophies
even as understanding deepened friendship.
No more looking forward to vibrant visits
over lunches shared.
Our potent circle of friends no longer hears your voice.

Did you not understand how much we loved your Soul?

Your heart ached so inconsolably that your husband,
family, and best friend could not convince you to stay.

So suddenly you were gone.

I breathed even as you lay taking your last.
From where I listened nothing would change.
Your intended outcome.
And so, Friend of mine,
And so many others,
You're resting peacefully now.
Your heart no longer aching.

I imagine you singing freely now.
If only I could hear
With these mortal ears
The voice I've just learned that you also sang with.

So much is lost.

January Full Moon Prayer

Let the corrupting force of money continue in its spectacular death. Let those who've put money above peoples' lives share in the vivid revelations. Let this death be swift and sure, and in its public end, ensure that evil is rendered powerless. Let those who've married power and evil be left penniless. Let them be clearly aware of their own bankrupt actions, yet let there be grace.

Let their clarity be infused with hope. Let these people see at last a path for doing good with the knowledge their wrongful actions and experience has left them with.

Let Our Mother Earth begin to know peace. Let me see in my own lifetime the manifestation of these prayers. Let my sadness never be more profound than my hope and my faith that prayer brings about miracles.

Let us all begin to see the smiling children as our own no matter what their color, what their birthright, no matter what country of origin.

And so ~ The month is begun.
And so ~ The month begins with hope.

Shall we each set about caring for the elements here in our own sphere of influence so that we create little miracles in our own lives?
Shall these miracles ripple in the ocean of Humanity?
Reflecting and returning, endlessly bouncing on miracles
Born of other hopeful and glad hearts?

I pray for fear of others to vanish. I pray to see hatred no longer set against skin color, accent, and language. Let instead, evil, violence, bigotry, and small-mindedness be hated. Let these things wither and die, transformed forever in the cosmic compost heap.

This is my prayer on this full moon this first month of this New Year.

Blessed Be!