www.sundayfunday.us
Imagine a lazy Sunday afternoon, empty plates with scraps of food and glasses on a table with the small traces of champagne and orange juice. The chatter of various conversations with the cackles of laughter can be heard throughout the back patio, a cacophony of voices belonging to a group of friends thoroughly enjoying the day and rejuvenating in the sun.
"I really needed this! We should do this more often…"
"Why not?"
A realization hit: how important it was to set aside time to hang out, play, laugh, relax, create and have something to look forward to.
And that's how Sunday Funday came to be…
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Ode
Words were not necessary
for his silence
already said so much...
My arms constantly breached
his invisible wall
and any smile that I caught
was a just reward...
The sound of a thousand yo-yos
whirring in unison
can be heard in the midst of
our chaotic wails...
Our faces full of unanswered questions
we shield our sorrows
in the numerous clouds of cigarette smoke
in the clanking of empty beer bottles...
we resign
we salute the Dawn
middle finger fully extended
And so...we throw this chair
high up in the air
watching it jostle and toss in the wind...
and I whisper a sweet song for the fairies
asking them to find you
so they can help guide your darkened soul
to the Light of the Grace....
for his silence
already said so much...
My arms constantly breached
his invisible wall
and any smile that I caught
was a just reward...
The sound of a thousand yo-yos
whirring in unison
can be heard in the midst of
our chaotic wails...
Our faces full of unanswered questions
we shield our sorrows
in the numerous clouds of cigarette smoke
in the clanking of empty beer bottles...
we resign
we salute the Dawn
middle finger fully extended
And so...we throw this chair
high up in the air
watching it jostle and toss in the wind...
and I whisper a sweet song for the fairies
asking them to find you
so they can help guide your darkened soul
to the Light of the Grace....
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Hope and Change...
Today marks a day that I never thought would become reality. Reflecting back on all the hypothetical discussions I would have with my friends, I honestly never thought I would live to see this day come into fruition. The 1st ever African-American president. As I sat with my friends at the Victoria Pub, I was overcome with so much emotion. When we watched as Obama's numbers skyrocketed to victory, our shouts and arms rose in unison, the feelings that were so apparent on everyone's faces could not be described with words. That's when I truly felt that there was still hope for us as a people, country..a Nation. However, the work is certainly not done (hello Prop 8) and I post this speech not only as a reminder of Hope, but the work we all have to do to Change things....for the better...for today...for tomorrow...for the Future....
<3 -Athena
CHANGE HAS COME..
If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.
It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voices could be that difference.
It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.
It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.
It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.
PARTNERS IN THE JOURNEY
A little bit earlier this evening I received an extraordinarily gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he's fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.
I congratulate him, I congratulate Governor Palin, for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.
I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the vice-president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.
And I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years, the rock of our family, the love of my life, the nation's next first lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both more than you can imagine, and you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House.
And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure. To my sister Maya, my sister Auma, all my other brothers and sisters - thank you so much for all the support you have given me. I am grateful to them.
To my campaign manager David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best political campaign in the history of the United States of America. My chief strategist David Axelrod, who has been a partner with me every step of the way, and to the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics - you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.
VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE
But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to - it belongs to you.
I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington - it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.
It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to the cause.
It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; it grew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organised, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from the Earth.
This is your victory.
THE TASK AHEAD
I know you didn't do this just to win an election and I know you didn't do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime - two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century.
Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us.
There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor's bills, or save enough for their child's college education. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.
REMAKING THE NATION
The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term, but America - I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you - we as a people will get there.
There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as president, and we know that government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree.
And above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it's been done in America for 221 years - block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.
ONE NATION, ONE PEOPLE
What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.
So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers - in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.
Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House - a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity.
Those are values that we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours: "We are not enemies, but friends… though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection."
And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president too.
AMERICA IN THE WORLD
And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.
To those who would tear the world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you.
And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.
For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.
A HISTORY OF STRUGGLE
This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing - Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.
She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons - because she was a woman and because of the colour of her skin.
And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America - the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes, we can.
At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes, we can.
When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes, we can.
When the bombs fell on our harbour and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes, we can.
She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "we shall overcome". Yes, we can.
A man touched down on the Moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes, we can.
THIS IS OUR MOMENT
America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves - if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?
This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.
This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: yes, we can.
Thank you, God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.
<3 -Athena
CHANGE HAS COME..
If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.
It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voices could be that difference.
It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.
It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.
It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.
PARTNERS IN THE JOURNEY
A little bit earlier this evening I received an extraordinarily gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he's fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.
I congratulate him, I congratulate Governor Palin, for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.
I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the vice-president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.
And I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years, the rock of our family, the love of my life, the nation's next first lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both more than you can imagine, and you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House.
And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure. To my sister Maya, my sister Auma, all my other brothers and sisters - thank you so much for all the support you have given me. I am grateful to them.
To my campaign manager David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best political campaign in the history of the United States of America. My chief strategist David Axelrod, who has been a partner with me every step of the way, and to the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics - you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.
VICTORY FOR THE PEOPLE
But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to - it belongs to you.
I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington - it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.
It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to the cause.
It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; it grew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organised, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from the Earth.
This is your victory.
THE TASK AHEAD
I know you didn't do this just to win an election and I know you didn't do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime - two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century.
Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us.
There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage, or pay their doctor's bills, or save enough for their child's college education. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.
REMAKING THE NATION
The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term, but America - I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you - we as a people will get there.
There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as president, and we know that government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree.
And above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it's been done in America for 221 years - block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.
ONE NATION, ONE PEOPLE
What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.
So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers - in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.
Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House - a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity.
Those are values that we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours: "We are not enemies, but friends… though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection."
And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president too.
AMERICA IN THE WORLD
And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.
To those who would tear the world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you.
And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.
For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.
A HISTORY OF STRUGGLE
This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing - Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.
She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons - because she was a woman and because of the colour of her skin.
And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America - the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes, we can.
At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes, we can.
When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes, we can.
When the bombs fell on our harbour and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes, we can.
She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "we shall overcome". Yes, we can.
A man touched down on the Moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes, we can.
THIS IS OUR MOMENT
America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves - if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?
This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.
This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: yes, we can.
Thank you, God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Better now than later...
The subject line is in reference to things that happen to us that cause us tremendous pain (in the beginning)...
my friend said it to me after my whole JP experience and I think about that because what if (hypothetically) we married and had kids? And so, it applies to your situation as well...oui?
I've been thinking a lot lately. When we first started talking again, I thought to myself: Okay. This isn't so bad. Maybe this could bring some closure....
And it did. What we had was in the past. And what we have now is something better. Compassion. Understanding. Growth. Strength. Trust. Open communication. I'm not saying we didn't have that before...it's just different. It's more balanced. I realized how much happier I am now that you're back in my life and I can't see you not being a part of it....and if there's a chance of losing it again...I don't know if I would be willing to take that risk.
I've been contemplating your situation and the chance of us becoming lovers again. I feel great trepidation when I think about it. I think it would feel good in the beginning, but then what if we stopped being friends? I'd rather have you in my life as my friend then risk losing you over one night of passion. The thing is....I wouldn't want one night. And I don't want to be your rebound either. I deserve and desire more.
I know that it seems like an easy and convenient situation....we've already been together, we trust each other....but what happens after? What if I start feeling things again? What if I want more? What then?
I wanted to broach this subject because it's been circling in my head since last we spoke. And believe me...my vagina is jumping up and down :0)...but my heart is the one that's reining things back saying, "Remember last time? Remember how much it hurt to lose so much?"
What's so confusing about this whole thing is the synchronicity of it all. We both have discussed and shared our experiences that seem to repeat over and over again....and look at our own situation...here we are, in a sense, in a somewhat repeated scenario but we're both different..and it's as if the clocks have turned back time but we were able to bring our wisdom with us so that the ending can be different...if we so choose...does this make sense?
I think what I'm trying to say is that I think I want it all...a life together, normal things like making dinner and watching a movie with the kids, staying up late and talking into the night, writing and creating together, making crazy love for days and days....and if I can't have that, then I don't think I can just settle for one night filled with passion or being just a 'mistress'....
So....if for right now...all you have to offer is your friendship and nothing more...
Then..... know I graciously accept it with open arms and sporadic giggles... :0)
my friend said it to me after my whole JP experience and I think about that because what if (hypothetically) we married and had kids? And so, it applies to your situation as well...oui?
I've been thinking a lot lately. When we first started talking again, I thought to myself: Okay. This isn't so bad. Maybe this could bring some closure....
And it did. What we had was in the past. And what we have now is something better. Compassion. Understanding. Growth. Strength. Trust. Open communication. I'm not saying we didn't have that before...it's just different. It's more balanced. I realized how much happier I am now that you're back in my life and I can't see you not being a part of it....and if there's a chance of losing it again...I don't know if I would be willing to take that risk.
I've been contemplating your situation and the chance of us becoming lovers again. I feel great trepidation when I think about it. I think it would feel good in the beginning, but then what if we stopped being friends? I'd rather have you in my life as my friend then risk losing you over one night of passion. The thing is....I wouldn't want one night. And I don't want to be your rebound either. I deserve and desire more.
I know that it seems like an easy and convenient situation....we've already been together, we trust each other....but what happens after? What if I start feeling things again? What if I want more? What then?
I wanted to broach this subject because it's been circling in my head since last we spoke. And believe me...my vagina is jumping up and down :0)...but my heart is the one that's reining things back saying, "Remember last time? Remember how much it hurt to lose so much?"
What's so confusing about this whole thing is the synchronicity of it all. We both have discussed and shared our experiences that seem to repeat over and over again....and look at our own situation...here we are, in a sense, in a somewhat repeated scenario but we're both different..and it's as if the clocks have turned back time but we were able to bring our wisdom with us so that the ending can be different...if we so choose...does this make sense?
I think what I'm trying to say is that I think I want it all...a life together, normal things like making dinner and watching a movie with the kids, staying up late and talking into the night, writing and creating together, making crazy love for days and days....and if I can't have that, then I don't think I can just settle for one night filled with passion or being just a 'mistress'....
So....if for right now...all you have to offer is your friendship and nothing more...
Then..... know I graciously accept it with open arms and sporadic giggles... :0)
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
The Looking Glass
At first glance I see him with his curly brown hair and electric blue eyes staring back at me. Then, the image changes and I see my own face with my brown/black eyes harboring the questions I've been avoiding the answers to....
He was a great mirror. I got to see more of my wounded self and heal those parts. I got to feel those rare emotions...dance with them for a bit...and he certainly helped my creative energy...becoming another influence to look inward...and I begrudgingly pointed the finger at the reflection in the mirror as opposed to pointing it at others...a typical defense mechanism most choose...
Now, I reflect back and cherish some moments that I shall hold inside............
more painted polaroids to add to the collection....
I sneak a peek and he's sitting up against the window, playing my guitar with his eyes closed...the tune channeled from the stillness of his heart and I hold my breath.....
scared that the song will end too soon..............
I hope....one day...I'll hear that song in its entirety...
**************************************************************************
He's asleep and I lean over ever so quietly...so quietly he doesn't hear..and I kiss his sun-kissed shoulder, nibbling it like a sandwich and that generates a huge, infectious smile...filling my insides with warmth and a tingling sensation...
Towards the end, it was my wounded ego and hurt pride that steered the wheel and called the shots. In defense of these two voices, they help in matters where I am in need of strength and armor...but sometimes, they cause a 'flight or fight' action that may not be conducive in truly confronting your fears and dealing with emotions in a healthy, positive way...
What I learned from this experience is the merit in patience. Allowing things to evolve organically instead of trying to control every little thing...that being 'quick to judge' and 'jumping the gun' are just manifestations of fear. For next time, if I'm not coming from a place of love then I should wait and meditate until I'm more centered.
Now, I know it's too late...I want to talk to him and tell him I miss him. That I still care and I was just hurt that he chose to just walk away instead of communicating with me....
but then I remember things...............
........ like how alone I felt even when he was laying next to me....................
and I have come to accept that everything happened the way it was supposed to happen because we really weren't right for each other romantically and as I write this...I'm experiencing a feeling of confirmation.
It's so obvious now but when you desire something so much...it's so easy to glaze everything over..........you know......
over look things and ignore the warning signs...
As one door closes, another one opens...........
.....and I love the mystery of the impending adventure.
I can't wait to ride on the coattails of the wind..........
to gather more stories.......... like bunches of wild flowers....
......passing them along to friends and strangers alike........................
.........catching a whiff of a perfumed-scented past
.............like a scintillating present....................
..........sharing the sorrows and joys of life..........
He was a great mirror. I got to see more of my wounded self and heal those parts. I got to feel those rare emotions...dance with them for a bit...and he certainly helped my creative energy...becoming another influence to look inward...and I begrudgingly pointed the finger at the reflection in the mirror as opposed to pointing it at others...a typical defense mechanism most choose...
Now, I reflect back and cherish some moments that I shall hold inside............
more painted polaroids to add to the collection....
I sneak a peek and he's sitting up against the window, playing my guitar with his eyes closed...the tune channeled from the stillness of his heart and I hold my breath.....
scared that the song will end too soon..............
I hope....one day...I'll hear that song in its entirety...
**************************************************************************
He's asleep and I lean over ever so quietly...so quietly he doesn't hear..and I kiss his sun-kissed shoulder, nibbling it like a sandwich and that generates a huge, infectious smile...filling my insides with warmth and a tingling sensation...
Towards the end, it was my wounded ego and hurt pride that steered the wheel and called the shots. In defense of these two voices, they help in matters where I am in need of strength and armor...but sometimes, they cause a 'flight or fight' action that may not be conducive in truly confronting your fears and dealing with emotions in a healthy, positive way...
What I learned from this experience is the merit in patience. Allowing things to evolve organically instead of trying to control every little thing...that being 'quick to judge' and 'jumping the gun' are just manifestations of fear. For next time, if I'm not coming from a place of love then I should wait and meditate until I'm more centered.
Now, I know it's too late...I want to talk to him and tell him I miss him. That I still care and I was just hurt that he chose to just walk away instead of communicating with me....
but then I remember things...............
........ like how alone I felt even when he was laying next to me....................
and I have come to accept that everything happened the way it was supposed to happen because we really weren't right for each other romantically and as I write this...I'm experiencing a feeling of confirmation.
It's so obvious now but when you desire something so much...it's so easy to glaze everything over..........you know......
over look things and ignore the warning signs...
As one door closes, another one opens...........
.....and I love the mystery of the impending adventure.
I can't wait to ride on the coattails of the wind..........
to gather more stories.......... like bunches of wild flowers....
......passing them along to friends and strangers alike........................
.........catching a whiff of a perfumed-scented past
.............like a scintillating present....................
..........sharing the sorrows and joys of life..........
Monday, October 13, 2008
Distracted
I was on a search for an old letter I had written years ago. I looked everywhere. Folders, file cabinets and even inside of books....behind tables and inside boxes. Poof. Gone. Guess I might have to enlist the help of the fairies...
So, in my search, I came across some old copies of submissions from other authors. Some of them had potential and I may still use them in the future....but it was something else that struck me. The realization and passage of time. I wondered how their lives were now. I thought about past loves, loneliness and the things we do to mourn our loss. I thought about how love can be so present and full of hope with the Happily Ever After within reach....how life can change in those dreaded increments of time and how I wish we had the power to stop it...just this once...
I wrote this with all that in mind...
Wish you were here
The record needle is skipping repeatedly
a reminder
the song ended
quite some time ago
Staring out the window
a familiar routine...
followed by a sigh
of ambivalence
Time to sit up
turn the lights off
walk down the hall
ignoring the cold hardwood floor
felt on bare feet
crawl into bed
close your eyes
wish
And then tomorrow
try to do it
all over again
So, in my search, I came across some old copies of submissions from other authors. Some of them had potential and I may still use them in the future....but it was something else that struck me. The realization and passage of time. I wondered how their lives were now. I thought about past loves, loneliness and the things we do to mourn our loss. I thought about how love can be so present and full of hope with the Happily Ever After within reach....how life can change in those dreaded increments of time and how I wish we had the power to stop it...just this once...
I wrote this with all that in mind...
Wish you were here
The record needle is skipping repeatedly
a reminder
the song ended
quite some time ago
Staring out the window
a familiar routine...
followed by a sigh
of ambivalence
Time to sit up
turn the lights off
walk down the hall
ignoring the cold hardwood floor
felt on bare feet
crawl into bed
close your eyes
wish
And then tomorrow
try to do it
all over again
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Lost Blog
“Do you ever get sad?”
“Of course I do. I’m Vegan.”
“What do you do when you’re sad?”
He’s silent for a moment. His eyes look up to the low ceiling of our recently built fort made up of leopard sheets and glittery scarves. He grins half way and hides his face in one of the pillows.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I was afraid you were going to ask me that.”
I almost didn’t catch what he said because his voice was muffled. It gave ‘pillow talk’ a whole new meaning…
“Well?”
(I’m a Leo with a Scorpio rising. We do not give up that easily.)
“Little white bunnies and pink tutus.”
“What?”
He’s laughing and looks up at me with a huge grin.
“Seriously?”
He nods his head vigorously.
“Are the bunnies wearing the tutus?”
“See why I was afraid you were going to ask?”
I share my list with him. Spicy garlic tofu, half noodle, half rice. Butterflies. Scotland. Chocolate. My friends…
We laugh for the millionth time that night. However, I’m not quite done with my interrogation.
“Do you ever feel discouraged and start to question everything? Like you can’t go on?”
“Of course.”
“What do you do then?”
“I go to the Farm Sanctuary. I look at all the animals and they help remind me of why I do what I do.”
The morning comes too quickly as the sunlight breaks through the blinds….but that’s what happens when you share secrets in the Vortex….time ceases to exist and…you don’t want to leave…but you know you have to…….and when you do……………….
.it’s bittersweet…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Of course I do. I’m Vegan.”
“What do you do when you’re sad?”
He’s silent for a moment. His eyes look up to the low ceiling of our recently built fort made up of leopard sheets and glittery scarves. He grins half way and hides his face in one of the pillows.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I was afraid you were going to ask me that.”
I almost didn’t catch what he said because his voice was muffled. It gave ‘pillow talk’ a whole new meaning…
“Well?”
(I’m a Leo with a Scorpio rising. We do not give up that easily.)
“Little white bunnies and pink tutus.”
“What?”
He’s laughing and looks up at me with a huge grin.
“Seriously?”
He nods his head vigorously.
“Are the bunnies wearing the tutus?”
“See why I was afraid you were going to ask?”
I share my list with him. Spicy garlic tofu, half noodle, half rice. Butterflies. Scotland. Chocolate. My friends…
We laugh for the millionth time that night. However, I’m not quite done with my interrogation.
“Do you ever feel discouraged and start to question everything? Like you can’t go on?”
“Of course.”
“What do you do then?”
“I go to the Farm Sanctuary. I look at all the animals and they help remind me of why I do what I do.”
The morning comes too quickly as the sunlight breaks through the blinds….but that’s what happens when you share secrets in the Vortex….time ceases to exist and…you don’t want to leave…but you know you have to…….and when you do……………….
.it’s bittersweet…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
For You...
This inception was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend of mine. I initially called her to see how she was doing and (unknowingly) woke her up. She was not happy and proceeded to tell me all the woes and problems of her life. At first, I was hurt, confused and angry....but when I listened to what she was whispering underneath her bilious banter...I heard other things...felt other emotions and the empath in me instantly responded. So, I bought a card and wrote how much I appreciated her. How much she was loved...
and instead of feeding the rage and resentment...I fed it love...
and the reaction was of epic and amazing proportions.
The one thing I asked of her was to pass it on to others...
in the hopes of spreading the gift of love ..it truly was the perfect
epitome of a positive 'domino' effect.So, my friends and loved ones...
I share this special piece of me..in the hopes that it, too,
inspires you to share the love and pass it on....
Front cover of the card: Do what you love....be who you are
Inside inscription:
Sometimes, we are in need of reminders. Little messages full of hope, love and inspiration. There are no limitations. Only the ones you set yourself. The more guarded you are, the more you deprive yourself of THE possibilities..the opportunities to love, grow, evolve and share.
You are amazing, beautiful, intelligent, generous, kind, strong, inspiring, talented, creative and luminous!You can do anything! Magic is everywhere...feel it...believe it..and it will manifest.
In the times when you feel down and depressed, remember: it's okay to feel this way. Acknowledge it. Then, give it some love and send it on its way. Fill that space with good thoughts, intentions and goals. Embrace yourself. Love yourself. If you have to, make this your mantra until you feel warmth and light around your entire being.Expression is your greatest ally. There are various, creative ways you can utilize this..sing, dance, connect with nature, paint, listen to your favorite song/artist, watch a rom com (romantic comedy), call a friend for a re-connection, write, meditate, chant, spin, roll down a hill, sit in front of the heater and eat chocolate, LAUGH, hang upside down, do yoga or pilates or both!, play with your hula hoop or flute, bake!, cook your favorite dish, sport the pink afro wig and roller skates, light some candles and take a bubble bath, put on your favorite outfit/jasmine oil and glitter, kiss and hug yourself/a friend/total stranger, talk to the fairies, go on a road trip, READ, help someone in need, garden, plant a tree or some flowers, color, drink tea and stare out the window, pet a cat or dog or both, do martial arts, SSSSSCCCCRRRREEEEEAAAAMMMMMM!, speak french or italian, or spanish or tagalog or japanese or chinese or thai or portuguese or latin or any other language or pretend to or make your own, daydream, have a night picnic, work on a puzzle, play a game, hold a special crystal or stone in your hand, look at old photographs so you can take a stroll down memory lane, plan your next international trip, visit a museum, visit a body of water, go on a bike ride, hug a tree, pretend you're a bird or a butterfly or Bruce Lee, continue to add to this list and again.....love yourself....
So, that's my version...I like to read it every so often when I need to..and today....I definitely did..and you know...it's like the power of 'poop'! You can't help but smile every time you say it... :0)
Love to you all...-A
and instead of feeding the rage and resentment...I fed it love...
and the reaction was of epic and amazing proportions.
The one thing I asked of her was to pass it on to others...
in the hopes of spreading the gift of love ..it truly was the perfect
epitome of a positive 'domino' effect.So, my friends and loved ones...
I share this special piece of me..in the hopes that it, too,
inspires you to share the love and pass it on....
Front cover of the card: Do what you love....be who you are
Inside inscription:
Sometimes, we are in need of reminders. Little messages full of hope, love and inspiration. There are no limitations. Only the ones you set yourself. The more guarded you are, the more you deprive yourself of THE possibilities..the opportunities to love, grow, evolve and share.
You are amazing, beautiful, intelligent, generous, kind, strong, inspiring, talented, creative and luminous!You can do anything! Magic is everywhere...feel it...believe it..and it will manifest.
In the times when you feel down and depressed, remember: it's okay to feel this way. Acknowledge it. Then, give it some love and send it on its way. Fill that space with good thoughts, intentions and goals. Embrace yourself. Love yourself. If you have to, make this your mantra until you feel warmth and light around your entire being.Expression is your greatest ally. There are various, creative ways you can utilize this..sing, dance, connect with nature, paint, listen to your favorite song/artist, watch a rom com (romantic comedy), call a friend for a re-connection, write, meditate, chant, spin, roll down a hill, sit in front of the heater and eat chocolate, LAUGH, hang upside down, do yoga or pilates or both!, play with your hula hoop or flute, bake!, cook your favorite dish, sport the pink afro wig and roller skates, light some candles and take a bubble bath, put on your favorite outfit/jasmine oil and glitter, kiss and hug yourself/a friend/total stranger, talk to the fairies, go on a road trip, READ, help someone in need, garden, plant a tree or some flowers, color, drink tea and stare out the window, pet a cat or dog or both, do martial arts, SSSSSCCCCRRRREEEEEAAAAMMMMMM!, speak french or italian, or spanish or tagalog or japanese or chinese or thai or portuguese or latin or any other language or pretend to or make your own, daydream, have a night picnic, work on a puzzle, play a game, hold a special crystal or stone in your hand, look at old photographs so you can take a stroll down memory lane, plan your next international trip, visit a museum, visit a body of water, go on a bike ride, hug a tree, pretend you're a bird or a butterfly or Bruce Lee, continue to add to this list and again.....love yourself....
So, that's my version...I like to read it every so often when I need to..and today....I definitely did..and you know...it's like the power of 'poop'! You can't help but smile every time you say it... :0)
Love to you all...-A
Monday, August 25, 2008
Understood
It began with the wind
and a blaze of fire
Fairy circles
Dream rocks
a need to savor and retreat
we hid ourselves
in a manner which
fooled those around
and he left without a word...
ran with the ocean breeze
leaving me to doubt
the nothingness that we had.
So he stayed away
and she sauntered on
but he came back...
he missed her warmth...
her arms open wide
smiling upon the sun
she welcomed him back
with an uneasiness
and a smile...
watching and waiting
for him to break her heart again
inevitable
impermanent
I live in the now, he says.
She says nothing...
sees through the selfishness
and callow behavior...
products of his fear
fully manifested
and unwarranted.
She was his trigger
He, the gun...
together they conjoined
into
her understanding everything...
taking her turn to silently walk away..
leaving him with nothing.
Understood, indeed.
and a blaze of fire
Fairy circles
Dream rocks
a need to savor and retreat
we hid ourselves
in a manner which
fooled those around
and he left without a word...
ran with the ocean breeze
leaving me to doubt
the nothingness that we had.
So he stayed away
and she sauntered on
but he came back...
he missed her warmth...
her arms open wide
smiling upon the sun
she welcomed him back
with an uneasiness
and a smile...
watching and waiting
for him to break her heart again
inevitable
impermanent
I live in the now, he says.
She says nothing...
sees through the selfishness
and callow behavior...
products of his fear
fully manifested
and unwarranted.
She was his trigger
He, the gun...
together they conjoined
into
her understanding everything...
taking her turn to silently walk away..
leaving him with nothing.
Understood, indeed.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
CSing in Orland and meeting Cupid
I recently had my first Couch Surfing experience when I went up to
Orland (near Chico) to work on the Farm Sanctuary this past weekend.
It was a long, but drama free drive up the I-5 and I am eternally
grateful for my road tripping musical soundtrack consisting of:
Karsh Kale, DJ Cheb I Sabbah, Radiohead, Bjork...to name a few.
I arrived into Orland, CA Friday August 1st just past 7 pm. I didn't
know what to expect which makes the adventure more fun and
when I pulled into the farm community of Orland, I was reminded
of our own little quaint cities near Ventura such as Fillmore and Santa Paula. Here, the air is different.
Drier, hotter and unrelenting. The company? Warm, generous and comfortable...
Mason, Robin and their family pretty much treated me like one of their own. I couldn't have had
a better experience. The only drawback now is that how are all the rest of my couch surfing experiences going to compete to this?
For starters, I wasn't sleeping on a 'couch'. I had a sun room,
with a lovely day bed that over looked their backyard.
And when I say 'backyard', I mean 'mini farm/garden/lounge area'.
They had a tiki lounge area, a sand box for their kids, a tree house,
a growing garden, chickens and roosters......
and they fed me and fed me...it was truly paradise! :0)
The next day was the first time working at the Farm Sanctuary.
Well, working on any farm for that matter. I met with Kerrie who
showed me the ropes and we headed to the turkey barn where
the 'senior' turkey ladies were waiting for us. We cleaned and cooed
and I listened to Kerrie talk very soothingly to the ladies.
It made me smile. I felt like I was at home amongst my 'people'....
And that's what we did the rest of the day. Raked and shoveled
dirty hay, replaced it with clean hay. I saw turkeys, pigs, cows, ducks, chickens, roosters, cats, sheep, goats and
a very cute Vegan boy from Canada. :0)
The next day I worked with Jamie. She was funny and crazy.
With her daily dose of caffeine she attempted to relay what I had to do which was feed the animals. Needless to say, I just nodded and tried to keep up.
What was so interesting was hearing how the animals got there in the first place. The sheep which are nicknamed the Santa Cruz sheep were rescued from the Santa Cruz islands when the Nature Conservancy decided it didn't want non-native animals inhabiting the island.
So...a helicopter flew over the island gunning down the sheep and the ones that are at
The Sanctuary are all that are left.
Cupid, who was by far my favorite...is this black and white cow
with a white heart shape on his forehead. He fell from a transport truck onto a CA freeway and was later discovered in an orchard by animal control officers. From the tag on his ear, the officers determined that he was likely acquired at a nearby auction and would have been slaughtered
for veal-a fate common among male dairy calves of no use to the industry. Ironically, he was found on Valentine's Day...hence the name: Cupid.
He also likes to head butt humans. It's his way of being affectionate. He's amazing.....
There was one thing that Jamie said to me...that kind of hit home.
We were feeding the ducks and there's one little feisty one called Penny. She had a tendency to nip at your ankles and shoes...and I was a bit wary of being near her. I have to admit, I was a tad bit annoyed. Jamie just laughed and said to me, "I like when they fight
back and try to bite me! It's like they're trying to show us: you can't mess with me!".
It was a reminder of their journey, how they ended up at
the Sanctuary malnourished, abused and some times
too sick to fight back. Now, it's a completely different story...
As some of you know, I've been Vegan for about 6 years now.
I don't tout my lifestyle like some do, I just live by example.
Working at the Farm Sanctuary really impacted me in so many
ways and just confirmed why I do what I do.
Here's their website: http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmZhcm1zYW5jdHVhcnkub3JnLw==
And if you want to put into action and help the farm animals.
Vote yes on Prop 2: http://www.farmsanctuary.org/actionalerts/alert_campaign07_2.htm
On the drive home, I started reading signs and making up
quarky poems...these are actual signs that I saw on the side of the road driving on I-5:
Speed enforced by aircraft
Dessert is not a treat its a necessity
Peace
Eat ripe fruit for goodness sake
Crows landing
Tom Mcleod slept here
70
Life is still good even if it flops
Choose Life
***********************************
What else is there to say? :0)
Love to you all....
Orland (near Chico) to work on the Farm Sanctuary this past weekend.
It was a long, but drama free drive up the I-5 and I am eternally
grateful for my road tripping musical soundtrack consisting of:
Karsh Kale, DJ Cheb I Sabbah, Radiohead, Bjork...to name a few.
I arrived into Orland, CA Friday August 1st just past 7 pm. I didn't
know what to expect which makes the adventure more fun and
when I pulled into the farm community of Orland, I was reminded
of our own little quaint cities near Ventura such as Fillmore and Santa Paula. Here, the air is different.
Drier, hotter and unrelenting. The company? Warm, generous and comfortable...
Mason, Robin and their family pretty much treated me like one of their own. I couldn't have had
a better experience. The only drawback now is that how are all the rest of my couch surfing experiences going to compete to this?
For starters, I wasn't sleeping on a 'couch'. I had a sun room,
with a lovely day bed that over looked their backyard.
And when I say 'backyard', I mean 'mini farm/garden/lounge area'.
They had a tiki lounge area, a sand box for their kids, a tree house,
a growing garden, chickens and roosters......
and they fed me and fed me...it was truly paradise! :0)
The next day was the first time working at the Farm Sanctuary.
Well, working on any farm for that matter. I met with Kerrie who
showed me the ropes and we headed to the turkey barn where
the 'senior' turkey ladies were waiting for us. We cleaned and cooed
and I listened to Kerrie talk very soothingly to the ladies.
It made me smile. I felt like I was at home amongst my 'people'....
And that's what we did the rest of the day. Raked and shoveled
dirty hay, replaced it with clean hay. I saw turkeys, pigs, cows, ducks, chickens, roosters, cats, sheep, goats and
a very cute Vegan boy from Canada. :0)
The next day I worked with Jamie. She was funny and crazy.
With her daily dose of caffeine she attempted to relay what I had to do which was feed the animals. Needless to say, I just nodded and tried to keep up.
What was so interesting was hearing how the animals got there in the first place. The sheep which are nicknamed the Santa Cruz sheep were rescued from the Santa Cruz islands when the Nature Conservancy decided it didn't want non-native animals inhabiting the island.
So...a helicopter flew over the island gunning down the sheep and the ones that are at
The Sanctuary are all that are left.
Cupid, who was by far my favorite...is this black and white cow
with a white heart shape on his forehead. He fell from a transport truck onto a CA freeway and was later discovered in an orchard by animal control officers. From the tag on his ear, the officers determined that he was likely acquired at a nearby auction and would have been slaughtered
for veal-a fate common among male dairy calves of no use to the industry. Ironically, he was found on Valentine's Day...hence the name: Cupid.
He also likes to head butt humans. It's his way of being affectionate. He's amazing.....
There was one thing that Jamie said to me...that kind of hit home.
We were feeding the ducks and there's one little feisty one called Penny. She had a tendency to nip at your ankles and shoes...and I was a bit wary of being near her. I have to admit, I was a tad bit annoyed. Jamie just laughed and said to me, "I like when they fight
back and try to bite me! It's like they're trying to show us: you can't mess with me!".
It was a reminder of their journey, how they ended up at
the Sanctuary malnourished, abused and some times
too sick to fight back. Now, it's a completely different story...
As some of you know, I've been Vegan for about 6 years now.
I don't tout my lifestyle like some do, I just live by example.
Working at the Farm Sanctuary really impacted me in so many
ways and just confirmed why I do what I do.
Here's their website: http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmZhcm1zYW5jdHVhcnkub3JnLw==
And if you want to put into action and help the farm animals.
Vote yes on Prop 2: http://www.farmsanctuary.org/actionalerts/alert_campaign07_2.htm
On the drive home, I started reading signs and making up
quarky poems...these are actual signs that I saw on the side of the road driving on I-5:
Speed enforced by aircraft
Dessert is not a treat its a necessity
Peace
Eat ripe fruit for goodness sake
Crows landing
Tom Mcleod slept here
70
Life is still good even if it flops
Choose Life
***********************************
What else is there to say? :0)
Love to you all....
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Myriad: A Letter
I've been thinking of the garden and the serenity I always feel when my heart returns there. I was filling out an application to volunteer at Odiyan (http://www.odiyan.org/), a buddhist monastery they are building in Northern California and my thoughts strayed to you, Steve and everyone I met in my short time in Scotland.
These past few weeks have been a blur. The past year a whirlwind of space and time. And I swear not a day has gone by without me having some thought revolving around my time there. I do miss it terribly but it is now a low, drumming ache as opposed to the large, gaping flesh wound type of pain I felt shortly after I returned 'home' to California.
Some fairies, indeed, followed me back. Although they've never said anything, I can hear the silent questions of when I shall return. I want it to be this year as I stated in my last short email to you...and I keep trying to find the 'perfect' workshop to do or the 'perfect' time of year...and I flip through the brochure wanting to do it all..and then getting overwhelmed at making the arrangements. That's when it starts to feel contrived.
In the midst of the parties in the forest, greeting sunrises to the beat of the music that's playing, the new friends of old traditions, rushes of deja vu...there's this longing for a connection. A deep, spiritual connection. It's maddening at times because it's like a hunger that has yet to be satiated and no amount of food relinquishes it.
I know I am being pulled. To go inward. To the dark places within. To face all the things that I buried deep. And even now, as I write this, I do not have the understanding of why I feel inclined to share this all with you. Perhaps, in my deep subconscious, I know that there's a part of you that understands.
In the quiet underlay of my Vortex, I await the comfort that I know is inevitable...we exist to learn, love, laugh...connecting through all spheres of creative expression...
With infinite adoration and light...
-A
These past few weeks have been a blur. The past year a whirlwind of space and time. And I swear not a day has gone by without me having some thought revolving around my time there. I do miss it terribly but it is now a low, drumming ache as opposed to the large, gaping flesh wound type of pain I felt shortly after I returned 'home' to California.
Some fairies, indeed, followed me back. Although they've never said anything, I can hear the silent questions of when I shall return. I want it to be this year as I stated in my last short email to you...and I keep trying to find the 'perfect' workshop to do or the 'perfect' time of year...and I flip through the brochure wanting to do it all..and then getting overwhelmed at making the arrangements. That's when it starts to feel contrived.
In the midst of the parties in the forest, greeting sunrises to the beat of the music that's playing, the new friends of old traditions, rushes of deja vu...there's this longing for a connection. A deep, spiritual connection. It's maddening at times because it's like a hunger that has yet to be satiated and no amount of food relinquishes it.
I know I am being pulled. To go inward. To the dark places within. To face all the things that I buried deep. And even now, as I write this, I do not have the understanding of why I feel inclined to share this all with you. Perhaps, in my deep subconscious, I know that there's a part of you that understands.
In the quiet underlay of my Vortex, I await the comfort that I know is inevitable...we exist to learn, love, laugh...connecting through all spheres of creative expression...
With infinite adoration and light...
-A
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Meet me halfway....
There's this place I like to go to and watch the night unfold. I especially love it when the moon is full and intimidating (in a non threatening way...more like a cosmic, brilliant sort of way). I look up and reflect on the days and nights that have passed...and allow myself to open up to the whispers I hear that glide alongside the silence of the evening....and the stories come forth...offering a kiss of sadness or joy, rejection or acceptance, chaos or clarity...in an overwhelming journey of emotions that I embrace with no hesitation whatsoever...
I keep returning to this secret, hidden place. Three separate times. New faces, the fairies say. I just smile and hope they won't be too mean or curious..
This last time they just watched. We had sweets with us and they waited patiently for one of us to 'forget' some. They were quite curious about this one. They sensed the magic within his hands and followed us as we walked along the street...City Hall on our left, the obsidian water on our right. The jasmine flowers hid a few faces and the lingering scent captured us for a moment while he picked a flower...stashing it away in his pocket...unbeknownst to us that one of the 'good neighbors' was hitching a ride, wanting a piece of our adventure...
Smokes and chocolate. A 70's porn-like abode. A circle of friends around a fire with the weekend's adventures tugging at our lips, laughter and giggling interspersed in-between the re-telling of stories...
************************************************************
************************************************************
************************************************************
And I wake up to blue skies and the ocean waves in the distance. A dream that was a dream, but wasn't a dream because it was soo real and was last night a dream, too?
I also forgot where I was, then the dream melted away and he was there. Warm and comforting...with the beach in his hair, on his skin, in his bed...
And I felt the sun's kisses that morning, as I lay there in that blanket of warmth and sand.........not wanting to leave..........knowing that the impermanance of the moment would win and I begrudgingly accepted my defeat....
I keep returning to this secret, hidden place. Three separate times. New faces, the fairies say. I just smile and hope they won't be too mean or curious..
This last time they just watched. We had sweets with us and they waited patiently for one of us to 'forget' some. They were quite curious about this one. They sensed the magic within his hands and followed us as we walked along the street...City Hall on our left, the obsidian water on our right. The jasmine flowers hid a few faces and the lingering scent captured us for a moment while he picked a flower...stashing it away in his pocket...unbeknownst to us that one of the 'good neighbors' was hitching a ride, wanting a piece of our adventure...
Smokes and chocolate. A 70's porn-like abode. A circle of friends around a fire with the weekend's adventures tugging at our lips, laughter and giggling interspersed in-between the re-telling of stories...
************************************************************
************************************************************
************************************************************
And I wake up to blue skies and the ocean waves in the distance. A dream that was a dream, but wasn't a dream because it was soo real and was last night a dream, too?
I also forgot where I was, then the dream melted away and he was there. Warm and comforting...with the beach in his hair, on his skin, in his bed...
And I felt the sun's kisses that morning, as I lay there in that blanket of warmth and sand.........not wanting to leave..........knowing that the impermanance of the moment would win and I begrudgingly accepted my defeat....
Random
On top of a water tower
watching the world
askewed and anew
colliding together
and unraveling our ribbons
removing armor
unconsciously collecting
then the sun appeared
undaunted by its brilliance
no longer haunted by the past
embracing the colors of the morning
and the possibilities
it holds
whispering to the wind:
just this once
just this once
just this once
watching the world
askewed and anew
colliding together
and unraveling our ribbons
removing armor
unconsciously collecting
then the sun appeared
undaunted by its brilliance
no longer haunted by the past
embracing the colors of the morning
and the possibilities
it holds
whispering to the wind:
just this once
just this once
just this once
Thursday, June 5, 2008
The Vagina Diaries
What is so compelling, living in this reality, is the on rush of emotions and empathy that is so readily available if we so choose to embrace it.
I've started a hat collection
the one I'm wearing
while I'm writing this
belongs to a Frenchman
freshly clean-shaven
chasing after happiness
with a drink
and a smoke
singing Bjork
to an empty room
And I recall a car ride
United Nations
Radiohead reverberating in a letter
unified
stupefied
dancing bubbles soaring in the sky
to only meet
in a crowded room
like perfect strangers...
We played and danced and never really said what needed to be said.
I've started a hat collection
the one I'm wearing
while I'm writing this
belongs to a Frenchman
freshly clean-shaven
chasing after happiness
with a drink
and a smoke
singing Bjork
to an empty room
And I recall a car ride
United Nations
Radiohead reverberating in a letter
unified
stupefied
dancing bubbles soaring in the sky
to only meet
in a crowded room
like perfect strangers...
We played and danced and never really said what needed to be said.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Rewind
Flashback
Journal entry dated 12-22-07
'Tell me another story,' the voice says...
I'm quite protective of some of the stories I've heard. Especially the ones that aren't really mine to tell. And yet, they affect me peripherally....whispering to me thoughts I often question and wonder whom they belong to.
I had dinner with Pat the other night. He's different now...
but so am I. I've become more open with him emotionally.
When we said our good-byes outside, he asked if I wanted my food. As if to prolong the farewell. I watched him under the blanket of stars and the glow of the street lamps...his hands plunged deep into his pockets, those shoulders hunched over slightly due to the cold and he waited with patience for my response.
I loved him for that.
*****************************************************************************
The night is unforgiving.
Hollow and jagged ripples contort
the darkness and its breath.
I succumb to her desire
for anonymity
and regret.
*****************************************************************************
Journal Entry dated 09-19-07
The moon resembled an amber colored lemon slice. I thought of Nash and began to compose a letter in my head...
On my walk with Ally (we were headed to the beach), we stopped by your house to see if you were in. The front door was ajar and it had been a warm day with the early evening hanging on the coattails of the sunshine's heated resonance. If sunshine were to have sound, what could capture it's essence best? I, of course, think of food. The shutting of an oven or refrigerator. The cutting of an apple pie slice. Window panes and squares of sunlight on hardwood floors...my socks slipping as I pretend to ice skate...
The bird greeted us repeatedly from the backyard and you were asleep. The rustling of your comforter intertwined itself with the cacophony of your backyard's symphony...and Abbey was perched like a guardian at your window. Her head gravitating to my hand as I reached through to leave you the penguin postcard...her gesture a loving reminder of how much all beings desire love, affection and acknowledgement of their presence.
You are here... and always loved...
*****************************************************************************
Journal Entry dated 09-01-07
Took a random exit on our way North in search of Fairy Rings. Amie lead the way as I followed behind with Ally bringing up the rear. Something happened. An epiphany and a tingling sensation of a realization rose up: this so-called adventure would surely change us...significanty...more than we would EVER anticipate.
The descent down felt surreal. The warm air, the dark patches underneath each step and the twilight of the star-filled sky felt like a freshly painted canvas. The ocean waves sang a song of hope...the incoming tide coming to tackle each new obstacle, the outgoing tide drawing back the fear and anxiety we all hold in but never talk about, never giving it room to grow...
Tiny dancing lights unseen to the naked eye (except for the Faerie-touched) were flitting in and out on the sandy shore. The lighthouse on both sides greeted us and reminded me of more visits and stories that have yet to be told.
As I turned around to head back to the car, ascending towards the top was an entirely different journey. It was harder. It reminded me of a hike I did alongside three male companions. We hiked uphill and all I could think about was giving up.
There was this little voice that said, "It's okay. You don't have to go any further. Just stay here and wait for the others to come back for you."
That triggered me to keep going...no matter what...no matter how hard it got.
And as the three of us reached the top safely without falling into the Nile or being abducted by the Aliens of the Sea...
I smiled outwardly as well as inwardly..knowing that
this is exactly where we need to be.
Journal entry dated 12-22-07
'Tell me another story,' the voice says...
I'm quite protective of some of the stories I've heard. Especially the ones that aren't really mine to tell. And yet, they affect me peripherally....whispering to me thoughts I often question and wonder whom they belong to.
I had dinner with Pat the other night. He's different now...
but so am I. I've become more open with him emotionally.
When we said our good-byes outside, he asked if I wanted my food. As if to prolong the farewell. I watched him under the blanket of stars and the glow of the street lamps...his hands plunged deep into his pockets, those shoulders hunched over slightly due to the cold and he waited with patience for my response.
I loved him for that.
*****************************************************************************
The night is unforgiving.
Hollow and jagged ripples contort
the darkness and its breath.
I succumb to her desire
for anonymity
and regret.
*****************************************************************************
Journal Entry dated 09-19-07
The moon resembled an amber colored lemon slice. I thought of Nash and began to compose a letter in my head...
On my walk with Ally (we were headed to the beach), we stopped by your house to see if you were in. The front door was ajar and it had been a warm day with the early evening hanging on the coattails of the sunshine's heated resonance. If sunshine were to have sound, what could capture it's essence best? I, of course, think of food. The shutting of an oven or refrigerator. The cutting of an apple pie slice. Window panes and squares of sunlight on hardwood floors...my socks slipping as I pretend to ice skate...
The bird greeted us repeatedly from the backyard and you were asleep. The rustling of your comforter intertwined itself with the cacophony of your backyard's symphony...and Abbey was perched like a guardian at your window. Her head gravitating to my hand as I reached through to leave you the penguin postcard...her gesture a loving reminder of how much all beings desire love, affection and acknowledgement of their presence.
You are here... and always loved...
*****************************************************************************
Journal Entry dated 09-01-07
Took a random exit on our way North in search of Fairy Rings. Amie lead the way as I followed behind with Ally bringing up the rear. Something happened. An epiphany and a tingling sensation of a realization rose up: this so-called adventure would surely change us...significanty...more than we would EVER anticipate.
The descent down felt surreal. The warm air, the dark patches underneath each step and the twilight of the star-filled sky felt like a freshly painted canvas. The ocean waves sang a song of hope...the incoming tide coming to tackle each new obstacle, the outgoing tide drawing back the fear and anxiety we all hold in but never talk about, never giving it room to grow...
Tiny dancing lights unseen to the naked eye (except for the Faerie-touched) were flitting in and out on the sandy shore. The lighthouse on both sides greeted us and reminded me of more visits and stories that have yet to be told.
As I turned around to head back to the car, ascending towards the top was an entirely different journey. It was harder. It reminded me of a hike I did alongside three male companions. We hiked uphill and all I could think about was giving up.
There was this little voice that said, "It's okay. You don't have to go any further. Just stay here and wait for the others to come back for you."
That triggered me to keep going...no matter what...no matter how hard it got.
And as the three of us reached the top safely without falling into the Nile or being abducted by the Aliens of the Sea...
I smiled outwardly as well as inwardly..knowing that
this is exactly where we need to be.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
A Dance with Melancholy
Journal entry dated 04/21/08
Going within...
I spent the weekend busy with errands and social engagements. What happens is that I become full of many things. Emotions, thoughts, whispers, questions, desires...rhetoric.
I don't know if they belong to me and I feel out of sorts. Somewhere in-between. I'm floating, but being pulled down. I pick up the phone to call someone but there's no one I want to talk to..no one that really understands (so I think) and it's like a chaotic, demented, sad tale. Tones and pitch rising like an aria then plummeting down to pay a visit to Hades. In the Underground.
Dancing with melancholy.
A contrived smile on my lips.
The mask is pretty and distracting. Ahh, but the soothsayers know better. The yogis, mystics, the Mad and Enchanted. They know it, too.
A brave face with sparkling sad eyes.
Piles of books waiting for the chance to be devoured. Explored. And the little girl inside waits. Somewhat impatiently. Tired of speaking with ghosts and gangsters...she waits for the hostess to drop her pen...and dream...so that she can tell her what she is unwilling to hear...in her waking and walking state.
The small breaks are short. Streamline after streamline they come. They have been waiting for this chance. They jump up excitedly like rainbow colored sand crabs when they see the ink change to black.
And the dreams. They come. Vividly. And with old, painful history. Reminders of unhealed wounds and unpaid debts...the few chances of redemption or ridicule. Sometimes both.
My inner voice yearns to be heard. Yet, I question the true owner. Is it a voice from beyond? The neighbor's? Does it matter?
I would think not..I suppose...
I struggle with the idea of writing fiction. It is what many call, 'telling lies'. However, the idea of writing a story masked as fiction seems more fitting.
But, dare I ask the question: Am I hiding or protecting?
After some speculation, I feel there is a need but for reasons such as integrity. That is a required ingredient in the telling of a tale full of love, romance, magic, adventures, tragedy and redemption. Not to mention the mystery of anonymity.
The peaceful, poet warrior with a sword in one hand and a pen in the other. Journeying through her own subconscious battle of inner workings, that at times...while wading through metaphorically...seem to coagulate into mud or worse: quicksand....
That's when you fall
down
down
down
into the darker areas. Doors are barred. Rusty chains decorate some entrances. There's a dank smell and no light. There is anger here. And fear. Loneliness and confusion. Unsatiated hunger. It is far from pleasant here in this place. The little girl sometimes comes here to skip down the halls. Her shoes knocking heel to toe like tiny hooves as they resound again and again, a reminder of the world's indifference.
It is in solitude that I find some solace.
Though the dark places are unpleasant...it is necessary to have the courage to explore its regions so that when you reach the inevitable end (and yes it's there)...the light is intoxicating and flagrant.
A Spring blooms here as well.
I can see it far beyond in the distance.
Closing my eyes....
And I'm there. A warmth fills me and the little girl is laying in a field full of dandelions. The red ribbons in her hair seem to glisten in their movement..oh, wait...they're ladybugs!
Butterflies decorate the sky and the ground. Little clusters of color moving about in an erratic fashion.
These are the Fairy messengers leaving only love notes in every flower they visit.
This is what I take with me when I journey back to the World As It Is.
Going within...
I spent the weekend busy with errands and social engagements. What happens is that I become full of many things. Emotions, thoughts, whispers, questions, desires...rhetoric.
I don't know if they belong to me and I feel out of sorts. Somewhere in-between. I'm floating, but being pulled down. I pick up the phone to call someone but there's no one I want to talk to..no one that really understands (so I think) and it's like a chaotic, demented, sad tale. Tones and pitch rising like an aria then plummeting down to pay a visit to Hades. In the Underground.
Dancing with melancholy.
A contrived smile on my lips.
The mask is pretty and distracting. Ahh, but the soothsayers know better. The yogis, mystics, the Mad and Enchanted. They know it, too.
A brave face with sparkling sad eyes.
Piles of books waiting for the chance to be devoured. Explored. And the little girl inside waits. Somewhat impatiently. Tired of speaking with ghosts and gangsters...she waits for the hostess to drop her pen...and dream...so that she can tell her what she is unwilling to hear...in her waking and walking state.
The small breaks are short. Streamline after streamline they come. They have been waiting for this chance. They jump up excitedly like rainbow colored sand crabs when they see the ink change to black.
And the dreams. They come. Vividly. And with old, painful history. Reminders of unhealed wounds and unpaid debts...the few chances of redemption or ridicule. Sometimes both.
My inner voice yearns to be heard. Yet, I question the true owner. Is it a voice from beyond? The neighbor's? Does it matter?
I would think not..I suppose...
I struggle with the idea of writing fiction. It is what many call, 'telling lies'. However, the idea of writing a story masked as fiction seems more fitting.
But, dare I ask the question: Am I hiding or protecting?
After some speculation, I feel there is a need but for reasons such as integrity. That is a required ingredient in the telling of a tale full of love, romance, magic, adventures, tragedy and redemption. Not to mention the mystery of anonymity.
The peaceful, poet warrior with a sword in one hand and a pen in the other. Journeying through her own subconscious battle of inner workings, that at times...while wading through metaphorically...seem to coagulate into mud or worse: quicksand....
That's when you fall
down
down
down
into the darker areas. Doors are barred. Rusty chains decorate some entrances. There's a dank smell and no light. There is anger here. And fear. Loneliness and confusion. Unsatiated hunger. It is far from pleasant here in this place. The little girl sometimes comes here to skip down the halls. Her shoes knocking heel to toe like tiny hooves as they resound again and again, a reminder of the world's indifference.
It is in solitude that I find some solace.
Though the dark places are unpleasant...it is necessary to have the courage to explore its regions so that when you reach the inevitable end (and yes it's there)...the light is intoxicating and flagrant.
A Spring blooms here as well.
I can see it far beyond in the distance.
Closing my eyes....
And I'm there. A warmth fills me and the little girl is laying in a field full of dandelions. The red ribbons in her hair seem to glisten in their movement..oh, wait...they're ladybugs!
Butterflies decorate the sky and the ground. Little clusters of color moving about in an erratic fashion.
These are the Fairy messengers leaving only love notes in every flower they visit.
This is what I take with me when I journey back to the World As It Is.
Monday, April 14, 2008
J'ai un faible pour le chocolat...
That's french for: I have a weakness for chocolate...
I have this line that kind of whispers...it's the little voice of loneliness that comes out when I think of an old friend: I miss you because you're never here....
Journal entry dated 04/12/08:
And so the warm day is winding its way to cooler temperatures. It's as if Summer is impatient and eager to come out to play. My dreams are vivid and intense as ever. Old lovers stop by for visits, having conversations with ones that have passed on. My training of martial arts continues alongside my inner conflict. This internal war rages on attempting to find semblance and balance in-between the aggressive and masculine behavior that surfaces with the 'feminine' part in me not wanting a hostile take-over. It's a struggle to find what is beautiful, fierce, and strong...all within me...and accepting it as is...
I enjoy the moments when my upstairs neighbor plays his guitar. It makes me think of the kind of life I'd like to share with someone...
Journal entry dated 04/13/08:
Last night was filled with music and experimentation. Listening and learning the language of the music was wondrous and beautiful.
There are these moments that I live for...stepping out onto a porch, overlooking a view of the mountains. The splashes of light and dark greens hits you with a commanding presence... or speckles of yellows and golden browns that can only be seen peripherally while driving speedily down the freeway....then, seconds later....being halted by the emerging emerald green grass against a majestic blue sky....a rosy scene with a pink twist...
I decided to try something new. Allowing the night to unfold...to be drawn in by the melodies and what they say to me. To allow the words to flow through me as they widdle off my tongue. To smile at the reactions and light they create. To shake my head at the ridiculous responses that are unearthed. Oh, how I long to hear the right melodies of words that can unlock my own suppressed inhibitions.
The sink and bins are overflowing. Rooms filled with dust coupled with piles of random objects conjugate a new painting or game of : what does not belong here?
I've realized the difficulty in interacting with new people requires lots of patience..and understanding. The first initial attraction draws you in. Conversation fueled only by desire. Fear becoming an obstacle for depth...so frivolity accents the night like salt and pepper only adhering to the safe haven of surface bullshit.
These thoughts reflect the recent events and confirm my restlessness, my true desire. The poet in me is strong and the warrior in me even stronger...
This craving I have has yet to be satiated. Words of warmth and romance...light sensual kisses of bliss felt in my being...
Drawing on thunder and the dawn, I patiently await for the storm that rumbles in the distance...
Ready...waiting...enjoying the presence of this hungry anticipation...
I have this line that kind of whispers...it's the little voice of loneliness that comes out when I think of an old friend: I miss you because you're never here....
Journal entry dated 04/12/08:
And so the warm day is winding its way to cooler temperatures. It's as if Summer is impatient and eager to come out to play. My dreams are vivid and intense as ever. Old lovers stop by for visits, having conversations with ones that have passed on. My training of martial arts continues alongside my inner conflict. This internal war rages on attempting to find semblance and balance in-between the aggressive and masculine behavior that surfaces with the 'feminine' part in me not wanting a hostile take-over. It's a struggle to find what is beautiful, fierce, and strong...all within me...and accepting it as is...
I enjoy the moments when my upstairs neighbor plays his guitar. It makes me think of the kind of life I'd like to share with someone...
Journal entry dated 04/13/08:
Last night was filled with music and experimentation. Listening and learning the language of the music was wondrous and beautiful.
There are these moments that I live for...stepping out onto a porch, overlooking a view of the mountains. The splashes of light and dark greens hits you with a commanding presence... or speckles of yellows and golden browns that can only be seen peripherally while driving speedily down the freeway....then, seconds later....being halted by the emerging emerald green grass against a majestic blue sky....a rosy scene with a pink twist...
I decided to try something new. Allowing the night to unfold...to be drawn in by the melodies and what they say to me. To allow the words to flow through me as they widdle off my tongue. To smile at the reactions and light they create. To shake my head at the ridiculous responses that are unearthed. Oh, how I long to hear the right melodies of words that can unlock my own suppressed inhibitions.
The sink and bins are overflowing. Rooms filled with dust coupled with piles of random objects conjugate a new painting or game of : what does not belong here?
I've realized the difficulty in interacting with new people requires lots of patience..and understanding. The first initial attraction draws you in. Conversation fueled only by desire. Fear becoming an obstacle for depth...so frivolity accents the night like salt and pepper only adhering to the safe haven of surface bullshit.
These thoughts reflect the recent events and confirm my restlessness, my true desire. The poet in me is strong and the warrior in me even stronger...
This craving I have has yet to be satiated. Words of warmth and romance...light sensual kisses of bliss felt in my being...
Drawing on thunder and the dawn, I patiently await for the storm that rumbles in the distance...
Ready...waiting...enjoying the presence of this hungry anticipation...
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
The Rise of The Phoenix...
I had a very interesting weekend. For many reasons. March 8th is a significant and momentous time for me. On one end, it is the anniversary date of being sexually assaulted. On the other end, it is International Women's Day. And in-between...it's my friend, Jon's birthday.
What I decided to do (starting in 2007) was to do positive things on this date...instead of contemplating serious things or wallowing in the darkness of such a heinous and cowardly act...so last year was Scotland and this year...was a new tattoo. Phoenix wings...to be exact....rising out of the original tribal design (that I got in 1999 when Bill passed away).
Tattoos are certainly not for everyone..my own personal reasons are reflective of my perception of life and art...they are for remembering...for the symbolism behind the physical representations...they remind me of who I am and who I was...they're stories, I guess...my stories....
Mark Cano from Tiger Rose Tattoo (in Pismo Beach) did this amazing (and brutal ;0) work. This guy is insane (but in a good way). He's full of integrity, intelligence and makes jokes about peanut butter when it's 3 in the morning while your chest is sore from his heavy hand under the needle. :0) (Yeah, thanks A LOT Mark!)
The work itself took about 5 hours. I will be honest folks....this hurt. A LOT! I tried mantras. I tried relaxing. I tried focusing on other things. Ahh, well. None of it worked...
We (my friend Josh was with me the whole time) met up at the tattoo parlor around 8 pm. Mark was working on a spider web for this girl who apparently was in the process of getting a divorce (her and I talked after her tattoo was finished). There were about 5 or 6 girls on the other side getting little stars behind their ears. They were cute...screeching and laughing the entire time. I was in observation mode and going within..somewhat prepping for the pain... :0)
Around 9 pm, we walked to some Thai joint that Mark likes and had dinner. At about 10pm, we headed back to the parlor and Mark started sketching. By 11 pm he was done and I was laying on the table....
The buzz of the needle slowly approached my chest and I braced myself, anticipating the first break of skin...
We went for more of a japanese style than a traditional style. I wanted to stray away from tribal because it represented part of my past. A phoenix is about death and re-birth. I wanted something that really represented this 'place' that I'm in right now...something that said visually: let go of the past, arise a new and embrace who you are now...
At about 4 am (repeat: five hours later), the upper part was complete. There was no way I wanted him to continue working on the rest of the tattoo. I decided I needed a second trip for that.
The colors came out really well. And my personal favorite is the colors above the cherry blossoms. Mark picked an interesting shade mixed with yellow and white to get that weird tinge that you see now. I don't know why, but it reminds me of the Tibetan flag...
And the cherry blossoms....I'm not really a 'girly-girl' but I really liked the idea of the cherry blossoms. It reminds me of that scene in The Last Samurai when Ken Watanabe's character whispers right before he dies,
"Perfect. They are all perfect."
Stay tuned for the rest of the progress...
What I decided to do (starting in 2007) was to do positive things on this date...instead of contemplating serious things or wallowing in the darkness of such a heinous and cowardly act...so last year was Scotland and this year...was a new tattoo. Phoenix wings...to be exact....rising out of the original tribal design (that I got in 1999 when Bill passed away).
Tattoos are certainly not for everyone..my own personal reasons are reflective of my perception of life and art...they are for remembering...for the symbolism behind the physical representations...they remind me of who I am and who I was...they're stories, I guess...my stories....
Mark Cano from Tiger Rose Tattoo (in Pismo Beach) did this amazing (and brutal ;0) work. This guy is insane (but in a good way). He's full of integrity, intelligence and makes jokes about peanut butter when it's 3 in the morning while your chest is sore from his heavy hand under the needle. :0) (Yeah, thanks A LOT Mark!)
The work itself took about 5 hours. I will be honest folks....this hurt. A LOT! I tried mantras. I tried relaxing. I tried focusing on other things. Ahh, well. None of it worked...
We (my friend Josh was with me the whole time) met up at the tattoo parlor around 8 pm. Mark was working on a spider web for this girl who apparently was in the process of getting a divorce (her and I talked after her tattoo was finished). There were about 5 or 6 girls on the other side getting little stars behind their ears. They were cute...screeching and laughing the entire time. I was in observation mode and going within..somewhat prepping for the pain... :0)
Around 9 pm, we walked to some Thai joint that Mark likes and had dinner. At about 10pm, we headed back to the parlor and Mark started sketching. By 11 pm he was done and I was laying on the table....
The buzz of the needle slowly approached my chest and I braced myself, anticipating the first break of skin...
We went for more of a japanese style than a traditional style. I wanted to stray away from tribal because it represented part of my past. A phoenix is about death and re-birth. I wanted something that really represented this 'place' that I'm in right now...something that said visually: let go of the past, arise a new and embrace who you are now...
At about 4 am (repeat: five hours later), the upper part was complete. There was no way I wanted him to continue working on the rest of the tattoo. I decided I needed a second trip for that.
The colors came out really well. And my personal favorite is the colors above the cherry blossoms. Mark picked an interesting shade mixed with yellow and white to get that weird tinge that you see now. I don't know why, but it reminds me of the Tibetan flag...
And the cherry blossoms....I'm not really a 'girly-girl' but I really liked the idea of the cherry blossoms. It reminds me of that scene in The Last Samurai when Ken Watanabe's character whispers right before he dies,
"Perfect. They are all perfect."
Stay tuned for the rest of the progress...
Friday, February 15, 2008
Morning Memories of Transition
Feelings of elation and euphoria emanated through my being as I was driving to work today. I surmise it was for a number of reasons......
............for the sunshine, for the late night sharing in the Vortex, for the stories of Africa, for my life, for my amazing friends...for the moment of complete bliss...
And it was my own doing...the self-sabotage or destruction...or de-construction and dissection of the subconscious...my fears manifested into old memories and the whispers became louder...
It's difficult to lose someone you love. It's traumatic and you're never prepared for it. I used to want to challenge Death to a duel but it's really not her fault. It's no one's fault really. It's part of the impermanence of this Life...
I loved Bill. He was and is still a part of my Light. What's so challenging is the letting go...the acceptance of Fate and to carry on as best as you can...
All these years, I built and broke down my walls. Love became an unattainable thing because I was too scared to let it in. I was scared that if I loved someone so much, I would have to deal with the inevitable of losing them to tragedy, death, disease or a bidding farewell.
And in the midst of my morning drive with the miniscule moments of divinity, my projected fear wanted to take center stage and I lovingly took it by the hand...gently guiding it away...allowing
the light of the Grace to step forth and bask in the adulation of the applause.
............for the sunshine, for the late night sharing in the Vortex, for the stories of Africa, for my life, for my amazing friends...for the moment of complete bliss...
And it was my own doing...the self-sabotage or destruction...or de-construction and dissection of the subconscious...my fears manifested into old memories and the whispers became louder...
It's difficult to lose someone you love. It's traumatic and you're never prepared for it. I used to want to challenge Death to a duel but it's really not her fault. It's no one's fault really. It's part of the impermanence of this Life...
I loved Bill. He was and is still a part of my Light. What's so challenging is the letting go...the acceptance of Fate and to carry on as best as you can...
All these years, I built and broke down my walls. Love became an unattainable thing because I was too scared to let it in. I was scared that if I loved someone so much, I would have to deal with the inevitable of losing them to tragedy, death, disease or a bidding farewell.
And in the midst of my morning drive with the miniscule moments of divinity, my projected fear wanted to take center stage and I lovingly took it by the hand...gently guiding it away...allowing
the light of the Grace to step forth and bask in the adulation of the applause.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Joie De Vivre
I recently had a very disturbing dream consisting of me consuming meat (ham, in fact) and then regurgitating it in the bathroom sink. The next thing I remember is traveling with an unknown Asian man to speak with a psychic/seer (also Asian). She appeared to be around her late 30's early 40's but I sensed she was centuries old. She went into a trance and began to describe my companion's death. In great detail. His demise was far from pretty. She described his eye being punctured with a sharp metal object. The poor man did not take it well. His shoulders slumped and his face began to withdraw with fear. It was hard for me to watch and I sympathized with him. So, I took action. I grabbed the woman by her shoulders and shook her rather violently. I yelled and screamed at her through her trance asking her why she was doing this. Her face was somewhat slack and she had a slight smirk. When she finally came to and registered who I was, her face went white and she appeared dead. It was the most disturbing thing I've ever seen (Spiritworld-wise) and I awoke completely distraught, confused and slightly terrified.
The remnants of the dream stayed with me throughout the next morning and midday. I was on the phone with several people trying to calm myself because my emotions were overflowing and the isolation I felt (because everyone I spoke with tried to console me but were at a loss for words..understandably so). I forced myself to go to Aikido and after class I spoke with my teacher about my dream. He shared that the dream indicated an opportunity to look deep within myself...that it could be my subconscious communicating a suppression of something. He encouraged me to ask questions and to embrace my 'dark side'.
I have found that some of my greatest adversaries in the 'Waking World' and the 'SpiritWorld' have been the source of extraordinary knowledge and growth. Albeit with many challenges and obstacles. :0)
And we come full circle...to, yet again, a symmetrical stance and I know I'm full of even more questions...but at least I feel less crazy and don't think I need to be committed (to an asylum)....
Sometimes I think my biggest fear is not being able to face myself. To accept myself fully. Ahh, well.....garder la promenade.
Bon Chance, mon cher.
Sur ce chemin, je marche seul.
The remnants of the dream stayed with me throughout the next morning and midday. I was on the phone with several people trying to calm myself because my emotions were overflowing and the isolation I felt (because everyone I spoke with tried to console me but were at a loss for words..understandably so). I forced myself to go to Aikido and after class I spoke with my teacher about my dream. He shared that the dream indicated an opportunity to look deep within myself...that it could be my subconscious communicating a suppression of something. He encouraged me to ask questions and to embrace my 'dark side'.
I have found that some of my greatest adversaries in the 'Waking World' and the 'SpiritWorld' have been the source of extraordinary knowledge and growth. Albeit with many challenges and obstacles. :0)
And we come full circle...to, yet again, a symmetrical stance and I know I'm full of even more questions...but at least I feel less crazy and don't think I need to be committed (to an asylum)....
Sometimes I think my biggest fear is not being able to face myself. To accept myself fully. Ahh, well.....garder la promenade.
Bon Chance, mon cher.
Sur ce chemin, je marche seul.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Tearing Down To Re-build
I found a resonance with this and thought I would share. They're from this website: DailyOm. Google it. Check it out. Reach for enlightenment... ;0)
Tearing Down To Rebuild
Rethinking Complaining
We all know someone who has elevated the process of complaining to a high art. Sometimes funny, sometimes exhausting, these people have the ability to find a problem just about anywhere. In its more evolved form, complaining is simply the ability to see what’s not working, in one’s own life or in the external world, and it can be quite useful if followed to its natural conclusion—finding a solution and applying it. However, many of us don’t get that far, and we find that complaining has become an end in itself. In small doses, this is not a big problem, but if complaining has become a huge part of our identities, it may be time to take a good look at how we are spending our energy.
Complaining is a person’s way of acknowledging that they are not happy with the way things are. In a metaphorical way, when we complain or criticize, we are tearing down an undesirable structure in order to make room for something new. But if all we do is tear down, never bothering to summon the creative energy required to create something new, we are not fulfilling the process. In fact, we are at risk for becoming a stagnant and destructive force in our own lives and in the lives of the people we love. Another issue with complaining is that we sometimes tend to focus on other people, whom we can’t change, as a way of deflecting attention from the one person we can change—ourselves. So transforming complaining into something useful is a twofold process that begins with turning our critical eye to look at things we can actually do something about, and then taking positive action.
When we find ourselves complaining, the last thing we need to do is get down on ourselves. Instead, we can begin by noticing that we are in the mode of wanting to make some changes. But rather than lashing out at somebody or an organization, we can look for an appropriate place to channel this energy—not our neighbor’s house, but possibly parts of our own. Finally, we can ask ourselves the positive question of what we would like to create in the place of whatever it is we want to tear down. When we do this, we channel a negative habit into a creative process, thus using our energy to change the world around us in a positive way.
Tearing Down To Rebuild
Rethinking Complaining
We all know someone who has elevated the process of complaining to a high art. Sometimes funny, sometimes exhausting, these people have the ability to find a problem just about anywhere. In its more evolved form, complaining is simply the ability to see what’s not working, in one’s own life or in the external world, and it can be quite useful if followed to its natural conclusion—finding a solution and applying it. However, many of us don’t get that far, and we find that complaining has become an end in itself. In small doses, this is not a big problem, but if complaining has become a huge part of our identities, it may be time to take a good look at how we are spending our energy.
Complaining is a person’s way of acknowledging that they are not happy with the way things are. In a metaphorical way, when we complain or criticize, we are tearing down an undesirable structure in order to make room for something new. But if all we do is tear down, never bothering to summon the creative energy required to create something new, we are not fulfilling the process. In fact, we are at risk for becoming a stagnant and destructive force in our own lives and in the lives of the people we love. Another issue with complaining is that we sometimes tend to focus on other people, whom we can’t change, as a way of deflecting attention from the one person we can change—ourselves. So transforming complaining into something useful is a twofold process that begins with turning our critical eye to look at things we can actually do something about, and then taking positive action.
When we find ourselves complaining, the last thing we need to do is get down on ourselves. Instead, we can begin by noticing that we are in the mode of wanting to make some changes. But rather than lashing out at somebody or an organization, we can look for an appropriate place to channel this energy—not our neighbor’s house, but possibly parts of our own. Finally, we can ask ourselves the positive question of what we would like to create in the place of whatever it is we want to tear down. When we do this, we channel a negative habit into a creative process, thus using our energy to change the world around us in a positive way.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
The Vagina Club
This humorous post originated on my 'My Space' blog. I feel it's worth re-posting here for new eyes and smirks...
The Vagina Club
#1. First rule of The Vagina Club is, you should talk about The Vagina Club. That is thoroughly encouraged. So is talking about Vagina or with your Vagina.
#2. Second rule of The Vagina Club is, the first rule should not have to be repeated. However, for those of you who are not members of The Vagina Club we understand that the first rule may have to be repeated. More than once. Or twice.
#3. Third rule of The Vagina Club is, you become an automatic member if you:
(a) have a Vagina and live by the Vow of The Vagina Club (see below)
(b) love your Vagina
(c) write poems, songs or have conversations about/with your Vagina
(d) dress up your Vagina
(e) have even more criteria to add to this list
(f) all of the above
#4. Fourth rule of The Vagina Club is, members of The Vagina Club can nominate individuals to join The Vagina Club even if they do not fulfill the criteria mentioned in Rule #3 as long as they repeat and live by the Vow of The Vagina Club:
I, (insert potential member's name here), do solemnly swear to respect, love, honor and cherish any and all members of The Vagina Club. I promise to be honest and forthright. I promise to act with integrity and compassion. I hereby pledge on this day (enter today's date) to protect any and all members of The Vagina Club until my demise. If I should ever break this sacred vow or decide to become a non-member of The Vagina Club, I will walk the Earth alone and devoid of the pleasurable company of any and all members of The Vagina Club..and live a sad, lonely life 'til the end of my days (may they be short lived).
#5. Fifth rule of The Vagina Club is, it is common knowledge any and all members share thoughts and stories with each other. If a member of The Vagina Club requests privacy, take your secrets to the grave.
#6. Sixth rule of The Vagina Club is, if you are brave enough to attempt to date a member of The Vagina Club keep this in mind: it's wise not to date multiple members of The Vagina Club at the same time or even in succession unless you're aware of Rule #5, you've discussed it with all parties involved and feelings are mutual (i.e. you have the proper anatomy required), you've received permission and you're alive to talk about it.
#7. Seventh rule of The Vagina Club is, dancing, laughing, positive reinforcement, venting, expressing compassion and understanding, hugging, kissing, sharing, regular Hot Bitches Nites Out and approved additions to this list are all encouraged on a regular basis.
Put downs, cattiness, and dishonesty are not.
#8. Eighth rule of The Vagina Club is, if this is your first time reading this you must read it again and share it with others.
The Vagina Club
#1. First rule of The Vagina Club is, you should talk about The Vagina Club. That is thoroughly encouraged. So is talking about Vagina or with your Vagina.
#2. Second rule of The Vagina Club is, the first rule should not have to be repeated. However, for those of you who are not members of The Vagina Club we understand that the first rule may have to be repeated. More than once. Or twice.
#3. Third rule of The Vagina Club is, you become an automatic member if you:
(a) have a Vagina and live by the Vow of The Vagina Club (see below)
(b) love your Vagina
(c) write poems, songs or have conversations about/with your Vagina
(d) dress up your Vagina
(e) have even more criteria to add to this list
(f) all of the above
#4. Fourth rule of The Vagina Club is, members of The Vagina Club can nominate individuals to join The Vagina Club even if they do not fulfill the criteria mentioned in Rule #3 as long as they repeat and live by the Vow of The Vagina Club:
I, (insert potential member's name here), do solemnly swear to respect, love, honor and cherish any and all members of The Vagina Club. I promise to be honest and forthright. I promise to act with integrity and compassion. I hereby pledge on this day (enter today's date) to protect any and all members of The Vagina Club until my demise. If I should ever break this sacred vow or decide to become a non-member of The Vagina Club, I will walk the Earth alone and devoid of the pleasurable company of any and all members of The Vagina Club..and live a sad, lonely life 'til the end of my days (may they be short lived).
#5. Fifth rule of The Vagina Club is, it is common knowledge any and all members share thoughts and stories with each other. If a member of The Vagina Club requests privacy, take your secrets to the grave.
#6. Sixth rule of The Vagina Club is, if you are brave enough to attempt to date a member of The Vagina Club keep this in mind: it's wise not to date multiple members of The Vagina Club at the same time or even in succession unless you're aware of Rule #5, you've discussed it with all parties involved and feelings are mutual (i.e. you have the proper anatomy required), you've received permission and you're alive to talk about it.
#7. Seventh rule of The Vagina Club is, dancing, laughing, positive reinforcement, venting, expressing compassion and understanding, hugging, kissing, sharing, regular Hot Bitches Nites Out and approved additions to this list are all encouraged on a regular basis.
Put downs, cattiness, and dishonesty are not.
#8. Eighth rule of The Vagina Club is, if this is your first time reading this you must read it again and share it with others.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
The Mucus is Here
I enrolled in a creative writing course (alongside all my martial arts and yoga classes) to see if I could 'hone' my craft. My teacher was your typical enigmatic Gemini. I swear she's got enough stories and brass to surprise anyone (she's somewhat elderly and plump). I honestly didn't know what to make of her. Then, she assigns homework the first night...
..........................wait for it...............................
write a paragraph about cottage cheese.
Are you fuckin' kidding me?
I bitched and whined to all my friends. They laughed at my misery! (They're also extremely lucky I love them unconditionally)
I procrastinated. I refused to do it and then curiosity got the best of me. There were certain restrictions (oh, yes....in a creative writing class). No descriptions of the container, no details about nutrition or origin and no 'how it tastes' monologues. Great. I don't even like the stuff.
I'm VEGAN for crying out loud!
So, alright. I did it. With oodles of sarcasm. There. You're forewarned.
Cottage cheese is my kryptonite.
It bubbles and gurgles like white lava, hitchhiking it’s way
from store to store taunting me with a mocking vulgarity.
It’s clever alright.
From a glance, an unknowing individual might take it for rice
pudding. For example, the starving insomniac
in a sleep deprived state, would spoon it up thinking it
a bowl of oatmeal only to be surprised by the albino-colored
dour monstrosity of the mistake. The small white humps
resembling tiny smurf-like hills utterly baffles me.
The silver of my spoon contrasts with its lack of color
and it now appears to be curdling even more as I continue
to stare in disbelief. Gas and mucus sustain it's place
in the back of my throat as I get a whiff of it’s sour smell.
In an almost fatal experiment, I dip my finger in the cold,
clumpy mass recalling vivid descriptions of grandiose thighs
and stretch-marked stomachs.
I chuck the remaining amount of white terror at a poster of Chairman Mao and search for another form of sustenance.
Enjoy, all you cottage cheese lovers! :0P
..........................wait for it...............................
write a paragraph about cottage cheese.
Are you fuckin' kidding me?
I bitched and whined to all my friends. They laughed at my misery! (They're also extremely lucky I love them unconditionally)
I procrastinated. I refused to do it and then curiosity got the best of me. There were certain restrictions (oh, yes....in a creative writing class). No descriptions of the container, no details about nutrition or origin and no 'how it tastes' monologues. Great. I don't even like the stuff.
I'm VEGAN for crying out loud!
So, alright. I did it. With oodles of sarcasm. There. You're forewarned.
Cottage cheese is my kryptonite.
It bubbles and gurgles like white lava, hitchhiking it’s way
from store to store taunting me with a mocking vulgarity.
It’s clever alright.
From a glance, an unknowing individual might take it for rice
pudding. For example, the starving insomniac
in a sleep deprived state, would spoon it up thinking it
a bowl of oatmeal only to be surprised by the albino-colored
dour monstrosity of the mistake. The small white humps
resembling tiny smurf-like hills utterly baffles me.
The silver of my spoon contrasts with its lack of color
and it now appears to be curdling even more as I continue
to stare in disbelief. Gas and mucus sustain it's place
in the back of my throat as I get a whiff of it’s sour smell.
In an almost fatal experiment, I dip my finger in the cold,
clumpy mass recalling vivid descriptions of grandiose thighs
and stretch-marked stomachs.
I chuck the remaining amount of white terror at a poster of Chairman Mao and search for another form of sustenance.
Enjoy, all you cottage cheese lovers! :0P
Historical Burns
I come from a broken family. The adjective: dysfunctional is apropos in describing my childhood experience. I don't think my parents meant for our future to be painted as such. In retrospect, our integrated exchange was far better than theirs EVER was...
HOWEVER..................
It still doesn't alleviate the pain, anguish, loneliness and emptiness I've carried with me into my now colorful adulthood.
Outside appearances...I smile and laugh. Put on my brave face. Only the really observant can see that my jaw is tense..and no one knows that I secretly grind my teeth...
On the inside...are burns and sores stemmed from trauma, fear...nights of the lonesome dark where it's not easy to hold the tears at bay and the most cheesiest of romantic comedies has me sobbing like a two year old.
That's where humor and sarcasm come in. They're my best weapons, my greatest armor. It has fooled many people into thinking they've been let inside. Little do they know it's just the waiting room. The real entrance way is locked and hidden...
Tall, structured, steel grey doors command an intimidating roadblock. Spikes and flowers decorate the sides of the opening. And lest we forget my favorite encumbrance: the large, red, fire-breathing dragon standing guard as an additional (and symbolic) precaution.
Dali makes it look so easy....and dreadfully beautiful...
HOWEVER..................
It still doesn't alleviate the pain, anguish, loneliness and emptiness I've carried with me into my now colorful adulthood.
Outside appearances...I smile and laugh. Put on my brave face. Only the really observant can see that my jaw is tense..and no one knows that I secretly grind my teeth...
On the inside...are burns and sores stemmed from trauma, fear...nights of the lonesome dark where it's not easy to hold the tears at bay and the most cheesiest of romantic comedies has me sobbing like a two year old.
That's where humor and sarcasm come in. They're my best weapons, my greatest armor. It has fooled many people into thinking they've been let inside. Little do they know it's just the waiting room. The real entrance way is locked and hidden...
Tall, structured, steel grey doors command an intimidating roadblock. Spikes and flowers decorate the sides of the opening. And lest we forget my favorite encumbrance: the large, red, fire-breathing dragon standing guard as an additional (and symbolic) precaution.
Dali makes it look so easy....and dreadfully beautiful...
Monday, February 4, 2008
Mes ami, ma famille...
I've been doing alot of thinking these past few weeks about friendship...defining it and asking questions regarding what friendship means to me...who are my friends...and if I'm a good friend to others...
My friends are my family. They are the individuals I turn to for emotional support, communication and love. They do not define who I am but these important people have helped sculpt the person I am today. It would be pure selfishness and ego if I thought it was a solo effort.
Early in life (as a young girl), I was taught the value of a good friend. The kind of person who doesn't judge you or put you down, the kind of person who laughs and cries with you in joyous AND somber occasions...and the kind of person who's by your side when you're in need of it the most...
I admit that I've been so wrapped up in my need for 'balance' in my life that I forget the more important things. It's not the amount of things or gifts that surmise what a 'true' friend is...nor is it the number of times you receive or make phone calls...and it's certainly not about the increments of time spent or how long you have known one another...
These examples are not the core of what establishes a friendship. They are the pieces to the intricate puzzle that create (what one would hope) a lasting friendship that can withstand bumps and obstacles that life can manifest. For me, it's the realization that what makes a good friendship is whether I'm a good friend first and foremost. It's the desire and honesty to communicate my feelings...with love and compassion. It's the awareness of my own actions and doing the challenging thing of looking myself in the mirror before passing judgement on others (and not being self righteous). It is also in the midst of these reflections that perhaps others are doing these introspective mental exercises as well...in the hopes of better understanding not only themselves but others as well.
There is no price nor gesture nor summation of a word that can really define a true friend. The best way that I can put it is the presence of love and connection that comes from the purity of acceptance...that YOU truly love yourself...knowing that YOU have the power to spread joy and love from within YOURSELF...and that to really begin that process is to look inward, to ask questions and to realize that to have true friends in your life is to start with being a true friend to yourself.
My friends are my family. They are the individuals I turn to for emotional support, communication and love. They do not define who I am but these important people have helped sculpt the person I am today. It would be pure selfishness and ego if I thought it was a solo effort.
Early in life (as a young girl), I was taught the value of a good friend. The kind of person who doesn't judge you or put you down, the kind of person who laughs and cries with you in joyous AND somber occasions...and the kind of person who's by your side when you're in need of it the most...
I admit that I've been so wrapped up in my need for 'balance' in my life that I forget the more important things. It's not the amount of things or gifts that surmise what a 'true' friend is...nor is it the number of times you receive or make phone calls...and it's certainly not about the increments of time spent or how long you have known one another...
These examples are not the core of what establishes a friendship. They are the pieces to the intricate puzzle that create (what one would hope) a lasting friendship that can withstand bumps and obstacles that life can manifest. For me, it's the realization that what makes a good friendship is whether I'm a good friend first and foremost. It's the desire and honesty to communicate my feelings...with love and compassion. It's the awareness of my own actions and doing the challenging thing of looking myself in the mirror before passing judgement on others (and not being self righteous). It is also in the midst of these reflections that perhaps others are doing these introspective mental exercises as well...in the hopes of better understanding not only themselves but others as well.
There is no price nor gesture nor summation of a word that can really define a true friend. The best way that I can put it is the presence of love and connection that comes from the purity of acceptance...that YOU truly love yourself...knowing that YOU have the power to spread joy and love from within YOURSELF...and that to really begin that process is to look inward, to ask questions and to realize that to have true friends in your life is to start with being a true friend to yourself.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
All things encompassed...
When your fingers shape the 'V', it also symbolizes peace. For my first blog, I'm still trying to organize the thoughts running around in my head: Shall I talk about veganism or feminism? What about my favorite Vegan recipe? Or shall I remain enigmatic and speak of black shards of glass that align the insides of the Sleep Walkers?
At times everything can seem like utter nonsense...
I enjoy the medium of the written word.
Imagine a dark room. You are the sole occupant. Someone hands you a keyboard and a candle. The screen appears like a floating ghost.
The word: 'You' is displayed.
What now?
Time to dive off the platform unabashed...
full of potential.....
aplomb in tongue...
Challenging whatever strays inside......................................................................................
At times everything can seem like utter nonsense...
I enjoy the medium of the written word.
Imagine a dark room. You are the sole occupant. Someone hands you a keyboard and a candle. The screen appears like a floating ghost.
The word: 'You' is displayed.
What now?
Time to dive off the platform unabashed...
full of potential.....
aplomb in tongue...
Challenging whatever strays inside......................................................................................
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
