Been a long time

It's been so long since I've blogged, I almost have jitters posting something new.  To get you up to speed, I've been busy with school, catching a baby squirrel in my bedroom, gazing at the country moon and over all, just being super happy.  I hope you are all happy, too.  Here are some photos that got lost in the shuffle:

This is from that freak snowstorm we had before Halloween.  I lost power for over a week...  Luckily cameras run on batteries :)

Meet Baby, my cat.  She's tiny and adorable.

This is Gunga, my Amazonian goddess cat.  She knows magic.

On the way to Litchfield to do some Christmas shopping. (I wasn't driving)

My obsession with photographing the sky through power lines.

Good morning

Hey, you! Jellyfish!!!!

These pictures were taken yesterday at the Mystic Aquarium in Connecticut.  I was really looking forward to seeing the jellyfish the most because they are so strange.  They look so delicate but they manage to survive.  The species on the top has mouths on its legs!  The group on the bottom live upside down, it seems to resemble plants and trick whatever they eat into their bellies.  They are all so beautiful.

Hunch

Crevassed crimson, slightly chapped,
indents match where they meet.

Pupils dilate behind shuttered eyelids,
even brighter than beach sun you are.

So rested, so close to you,
touching - my shoulders reach for clouds.

I almost become one - blue and drifting,
yet substance weighs me down.

Your other hand in my hair
to say - stay, just a moment longer.

Cart Part Two

I walked away
without a
sound.

I
even averted
eye contact before

getting up and
leaving to
make

a
call outside
around the corner.

Two French people
were sitting
at

a
table outside
so I returned

to bask in
their language.
When

they
left, she
came out.  She

silently sits in
front of
me.

She
just clapped
her hands.  She

knows I'm writing
about her.
She

can
feel my
auric interrogation. She's

wearing a green
barrette in
her

hair
which keeps
catching my eye.

Cart

What makes me
stall on
a

possible
conversation with
the bag lady

sitting across the
aisle from
me?

She's
more than
likely a mother,

grandmother or other
form of
matriarch

with
layers of
stories only people

who have lived
like her
posses.

A
publisher's dream,
assuming she speaks.

Her Walmart cart
contains two
throw

pillows
embroidered with
posies.  They are

brown.  As I
write this,
I

remember
a friend's
cousin.  It could

be - let me
know.  Still:
bandana,

yellow
plastic grocery
bag, water bottle.

White hair, wrinkled
skin, winter
hat.

I
hope she
has a home.

On a date at starbucks

Not me.
Some other lovely people.
Man with eyebrows animated and feet fidgety.
 "I thought women were wired that way." 
"Hmmm..."
"Well, you could always go somewhere else."
"No, hmhmmhm, I didn't say it like that.
"I think it's great."

Here y'all go...dance time!

So many passions of mine rolled into one captured moment.

The Jim Oblon trio is definitely amazing and they play at The Owl Shop every Monday night again.  I'm so glad Jim is back from touring.

Chris, my dancing counterpart, taught me how to dance like that.  Yay Chris!

In the background is an interesting conversation as well.  I had told my friend that I had never seen myself dance and he was kind enough to film it for me.  :)

YAY!

Discoveries

New
bridges, new
eyes.  Brownies dancing

in sun-setting light.
My Sabian
symbol.

encore rap

Manipulation, capitulation
Right out of the scene.

Have fun, drink tons.

I'm gone at sunset
Reaching for unrest

This test, flowing
River vests, my best bet

Lie to me, cry to me,
I'm gone you see -

Never aging, never fading,
My flame crests

with the best of the best.

Sacral

Fearless, fluttered, blocked.
Imbibing, unrelenting, too soft.

Extreme, unemotional,
not yet done.

Expanding, come on,
I know you're in there.

Chickadees and Master Chirpers Alike

We all have something in common; our energetic make up.  Whether we choose to acknowledge that part of ourselves or not, it's there waiting to be sorted out and supported.  A lot of people ask me how they can become more whole, more integrated with life, more connected to their truths, and the answer depends on the person asking the question.  Everyone's best first step differs, but since you start where you are, the best step is always the first one you make.

To demonstrate, imagine a circle.  Along the perimeter of this circle are tasks you can complete to enrich your experience on this planet by connecting your whole self together.  I want you to draw dots with your mind on random points around the circle.  Now picture yourself in the middle.  You are a bigger dot, the center of the bulls-eye.  Draw a line starting in the middle and with that willy-nilly attitude that I know you have, just start connecting.  Don't redraw the circle, don't make spokes, connect one to the other and to you with random intention creating a picture that is not at all symmetrical or even aesthetically pleasing.  Modern art, you, the way.  My experience with modern art galleries over the past few years has left me quite uncomfortable and confused.  This is what your drawing should do.

The path to a fuller you has no linear course.  You work on what comes up.  You move with the energy of your system and it will always guide you to where you want to go.  All you have to do is pay attention and be willing to let go of what is no longer serving you.  The best example of this I can relay comes from my beginner aura seeing class.  Students can normally see their own energy (their aura) within five minutes.  They get excited and some get freaked out, but they see it; some even see color on their first try, which is quite remarkable.  Then the party-crasher comes to town and about half of them lose it.  What is this awful deterrence of growth?  It's not our parents coming home and turning on the lights and kicking everyone out, it's not the hallucinogenic drugs we didn't do prior to our experiment, it's the mind.  The mind kicks in and says, "Yo, that's whack!  You can't see what isn't there and since you didn't notice it in ALL the years you've been alive then it is obviously a trick I am playing on you.  Show some respect, crawl back into your shell and try not to grow anymore, OK?"  It happens every time. Even the most natural of seers gets caught up in this.  This scenario fits every growth situation in your life, not just in the arena of seeing energy.  This is where most people stop.

To embark on this journey and get anything out of it you have to develop trust.  The next step is often far from view and the path, as shown in your circle drawing, is more than wiggly - it makes no sense before you reach the next outer dot.  If you were given driving directions that looked like that, you'd start laughing and throw it back at the person handing it to you.  The difference between driving maps and the map you made above is the destination.  You are developing knowledge about yourself and not seeking to end up anywhere else.  So don't throw the map you made away; though, you do have permission to laugh.

So where to find your first step?  You can do it right now.  Look around you and notice if any one particular object that you can see from your chair is shining brighter than the others.  What catches your eye?  If it is a a flower, then look up the flower meaning online.  If it's an animal, then see what the totem meaning of that animal is.  If it's a book, grab it and open it up to a random page and see what it says.  Maybe you are gazing out the window at the moon.  Dig in, whatever it is.  Everything means something and has now become a clue.  Chickadees and master chirpers alike use life like this in order to understand what is happening on our many levels.  It's quite genius if you get it.  The outer life reflecting the inner life takes the pressure off of constantly having to scan every system that we have.  I wouldn't want to go back to the day before the automobile gas gauge.  This is pretty much the same thing. Of course, developing an intimate relationship with our energetic systems is important, but that will develop with time and practice.  Until then, let your environment show you what to do and also let it show you that you are supported.

I've been releasing old patterns lately and tend to be tough on myself if I feel anger or loss.  I forget that these are a part of life and just want to jump back into being the chipper gal that I am.  While on the deck yesterday I noticed how lovely the hydrangea bush looked and decided to take some flowers in to my desk.  When I got upstairs I decided to look up what the hydrangea flower essence meant.  It's all about releasing old patterns and their emotions with tenderness and ease.  This is what I'm talking about.  I'd never worked with the hydrangea plant before and here was a helping hand growing in my yard.  This will happen to you again and again if you let it.   Using clues will help you to develop trust in yourself and ease that raucous mind of yours.  Besides, doesn't it add a little spark to the day when you're not just going from A to B?  Life is now a treasure hunt and the X on the map is you.

In session

You are still able to balance so in reality you are fine.  You see the greatness and beauty that is in everything.  All you need to do to drop that ache is acknowledge that you always seem to find a reason not to go for it.  Stop portraying yourself as less than you know you are.  Just because you have been conditioned to sit quietly doesn't mean that's best for you.  You have a lot to say, so say it.  Your mental faculties are all there, you have an expansive heart that fits mountains inside it.  Your solar plexus, my dear, will settle.  The rest of you is just fine.

I've noticed that you are having quite the difficult time in deciding what to reveal.  You're a lake with no bottom.  Let those who wish to swim, swim.  The others will pass through easily.  No need to worry.  Relax your shoulders, take a deep breath and the exhale will contain the perfect amount of you.

There is much in your life that is dulling.  You can see this.  Are you done with it or not?

Love,
Me

Fireworks at Bayview Beach

 Bayview Beach proper

Yes, I live at the beach.  I often say to my friends, "who needs to drive somewhere and sit amongst a crowd of people just to see some sky sparkle action when you can just walk down to the beach with me and have a 180 degree view in comfy solitude?"  Well this year I got three versions:  sitting in lawn chairs at a very respectable distance to view the Shelton/Derby throw down outside my friend's apartment building on Friday, the quiet beach version mentioned above on Sunday and something on Monday I've never, ever witnessed before - full out, you-got-served, sweaty, sand-flea ridden, macho gunpowder madness at the same spot I enjoyed the night before.  


There are some pictures from the scary night in a previous post titled Paaaaaandemonium - because it was.  I wasn't even in with the big crowd and I was ducking and squealing like a toddler.  It felt very unsafe but I couldn't peel my eyes away just the same.  It seemed like all the people inhabiting beach front houses were required to a.) have a huge ass bonfire and b.) spend thousands of dollars on fireworks.  I think c.) would be to become increasingly intoxicated as the night went on but that probably goes without saying.  I still sound like a Grandma and it's been almost a full week since I've witnessed this.  (sorry)  It was incredible to watch and very energizing to see all of my neighbors outside at the same time.  Unfortunately the teenage grandchild of the couple who lives to my left spent the night in the burn unit.  She's ok now.  


It's not surprising to me that so much explosive energy was released this week.  We just had three eclipses in one month, the last being on July 1st.  We're all stressed and crazy and the shit's just beginning to hit the fan, why not make it look like that in the sky, right?   I see it as a perfect representation of how we're all feeling.  Of course, explosive outbursts tend to do two things; they make us feel heard but they also tend to leave casualties.  It's a good thing that holidays normally spread an unusually large amount of solidarity between our fellow land mates.  I'm hoping that it lasts.  

 My favorite color :)

 A proud man

Dandelion fluff fireworks

Paaaaandemonium

Reading

Massaging tear drops
into my forehead
with fingertips I
lick wine drips from.

Best wishes from South
land dwellers, invitations
of comfort and city.

A snorer barricaded,
some glass to look out.
A grape ivy reminding
me of life and opportunity.

A film about Allen Ginsberg:
Howl.  To write as oneself
using vocabulary shared
with friends, with lovers.

I break the homosexual
ice to invite the discourse
of fucked up america into
the lightness of everyone.

All angels with swords.
To share an authority
discounts imagination;
to rebel discounts ones-self.

And so he speaks

Of walls and irons
and fires released.
I hear no call to
relinquish the fuming.
No cry for sorry, only
pretensions deceased.

Three creatures in
twelve hours.  Three
omissions of speech,
save the dog lying
on the table breathing
his last breath of heat.

And so it goes

What say dog.
Departed.
Yet to

prance
across my
dreary desk side

exhales.
Sit my
lap warm.  Remember

me by two
words.  The
only

humanity
you conquered:
[I] "Thank you."

dismayed

Crucial
wordings, frontings;
lackings in reciprocation.

In timing, in
loving, in
false.

In
asking me
to be more.

And you not
reaching for
yourself.

I've:

Danced with dragonflies.
Run with butterflies.

Seen a water snake,
numerous types of birds,
chipmunks, squirrels,
deer and insects.

Read in a sunny meadow.
Done cartwheels and yoga.
Climbed mountains.

Hiked for hours.
Peed and pooped
in a pit.

Made coffee, breakfasts,
lunches and dinners on
a fire pit grill rack.

Made fires, many, many fires.

Called AAA twice for
my neighbors.
Talked to strangers.

Swam in a lake.
Got water from a well.
Waved at passersby.

Filled up my CF card.
Stargazed, cloud gazed.
Slept in a tent.

Listened to weird
(really, really weird)
animal noises at night.

Been eye level with hawks.
Eaten mountain top
blueberries.

Sweat, gotten bruised and bitten.
Pulled a tiny tick off my arm.

Wrote and meditated.
Sang songs to myself
and my animal friends.

Drank wine from a sippy cup.
Had visitors, got bitchy,
checked my voicemail at 1,350 feet.

Balanced the elements.

me

To Paint

My Koan

Laughter ceases to be just a sound
Because it erupts out of mountains.

How lovely

"This is how I feel."  Says songs,
sad songs.  It's inevitable or so
I imagined.  Things said to many
folks, whispers and distributions.

An ache.  With and without.
Blunders.  So many, so abounding
that questioning ensues.  Nothing
present, though.  Not that I have done.

So what of this evening?  An
Owl, an answer, a friend
or two.  Who decides what
really happened and how do
we ever really know?  What
makes this mind of mine think
of wander into cave corners?

I'm uneasy.  I'm ill prepared.

I'm waiting for mistakes and
that call to tell me you screwed up
and you're sorry.  I'm sewing.

It's not supposed to be hard.

Oh my.

In evening times
I relent to shared
beds and shared patterns.

I give you fullness,
honesty and intricates.

I hand over words
without meanings,
understandings and gravity.

I smile for you and sway.

These thoughts I've shared
are without boundaries.

These ribbons extend
through galaxies, my
planet and through times.

Hell yeah

I win now

like never

before.

You

The holy shit
moment has
arrived.

Long sentences

Maybe I was kind of done
but then I had a dream
that entailed a minivan
and a driver who was
spinning us around town
in a circle and then my wife
was gone somewhere, shopping
or something, and we were in
the back seat.

Nothing happened
really, except that we
didn't speak to each other-
which is plausible if it were
real life, but the flick of an
index finger upon your
curled up hand sitting
next to your thigh.

That's all it took.

So then the dream ended
and before I could transpose
the people as I am doing now,
I inlayed many other
scenarios that I wish had
happened.

Guadalupe or something

The silly in
my belly
is

back. 
The jump.
The harmony of

invisible tethering.  Can
I claim
it?

Can
anyone?  I
assume not, but

it is my
fortune to
benefit.

Time

Drops and feathers
falling on tongues
wildly swinging
into spring rain.

We did that.  We
drank the rain.

Pollen

I collect you in clumps
of pollen on my car.
My favorite color,
the itch in my eyes.
Never letting me stray
my attentions, look.
I look and look.

Breaks

I've learned to
climb the
hill

before
the roses have
bloomed so the

decent is rainbow
flowered and
fragrant.

Impressions

In light of recent events
At 32 knots the wind
I realize we are still
Trees, trees, they are
Squirrel cheeks, ha!

Level Z

Action
Intersects
Boredom

No
Time
To
Clean

Rambunctious
Wordings
Lips
Jacket

Climb
Tree
To
Escape

A Night

It is as
it was
before;

two
men down,
two men ashore.

I'm sorry

The ivy vine.
Again, again,
again.

That
fucking pattern.
Those tiny tendrils.

Squeeze the life
from all
the

other
sides.  Leave
me be. Leave

me be.  So
many demands
in

so
few hours.
To go with

it.  I go
with it.
I

don't
know what
to say or

how to describe.
This new
way

to
love is
not yet understood.

The Moon

The other day I was told to pretend.
During my adventure I rode a hot air
balloon up through the clouds.  They
twinkle even without the plane window.
Once I was done ooohing at that, I
decided to go higher.  I left the Earth's
atmosphere and landed on the moon.
I felt like a child running down and then
up the giant craters with my arms spread
open like Superman.  I relinquished gravity
when I wanted to do sommersaults like
Charlie in Wonka's chocolate factory. 
Now that I am at my desk looking up
at this tiny glowing sphere through leaves
on my neighbor's tree, I imagine that I
am dancing with a partner.  It's not that
I don't love to adventure alone, it's just
more fun to exchange energetic movements.

:/

Who's the Maypole?  I'm asking because the month is May and I feel like a braid with more than three ribbons.  It's my job and the work is well paid.  The ends though?  Frayed.  Don't mind the rhyme there, it's not forced.  I am in agony for my skip-about friends.  Mama is tired and love drained.  Her heart aches with the best of them.  Her tears fill oceans.  This sprouted grain granola bar only shoves down so much.  Anyway, my toil is accounted for.  Sorry for all the metaphors and cliches...life is rough out there. If I lived in Alabama I wouldn't need to apologize.  The thing is, I live in the unhappiest state in the country.  I should have ended it there but my job is to spread hope.  None of you know how amazing you are.  If you did, you wouldn't be reading this.  Take my word for it and believe it.  Then - act, know, take in the awesomeness that is you.  I want to seeeeeeee it!  Show me.  Then maybe I'll stop writing. 

Indigo

"Indigo.  Indigo."
Is that what she said? Ingido?
I think so.  What is she talking about?
"I just need to feel your mouth.
Please.  I'm being a baby.  I know."
I don't understand her.
"I know."

Good Night

Good night whipped cream
and flour-less chocolate cake;
the cherry in the jar sits
on the counter.

It'll wait for tomorrow
for consumption.  The
sundae on Sunday
made in the cool breeze.

I'll eat it on the porch
in my rocking chair,
with my shoulders back
and my hair down.

Unlike Creeley

down below glass
bubbles left in
steins with clasp
tops.  foam of ocean
shores.  that pollution
that cleansing.  to give
back.

through prism of
crystal all druzy
based and elegant.
that nature, those
floating Devas aligning
seed and soil.

what grows may
be weed or apple
tree, home to
cardinals or egg
stealing jays. we
trust.

watch cloud formations
read i-ching or divine
from letters what not
to follow.  yet with
confusion comes
frustration. with that -
surrender.

to process and innerness-
our true perfection.

That wasn't so bad

I can walk
upon a rock

a boulder gray
and hollow

then arch
my back

along cold curves
and gaze

into tomorrow

I like to eat chocolate and I like to read poetry

Well, it seems I can have my Hazelnuts in Milk Chocolate and and a lil' love poem, too.  Chocolove makes delicious bars in all varieties and prints love poems on the inside wrapper.  I found today's poems to be just lovely.  Here it is:

from Fly Not Yet

Fly not yet! the fount that played,
In times of old, through Ammon's shade,
Though icy cold by day it ran,
Yet still, like sounds of mirth, began
     To burn when night was near;
And thus should woman's heart and looks
At noon be cold as winter brooks,
Nor kindle till the night, returning,
Brings their genial hour for burning.
     O! stay-O! stay-
When did morning ever break
And find such beaming eyes awake
     As those that sparkle here!


Thomas Moore

Hey, I'm at over 1,000 posts and I didn't make any whooplah.....let me find some.

Look Sharply

I still want
bricks laid
and

dewy
apples picked.
The walks past

parking lots and
Stop & Shop
encounters.

Readings

So easy to lament.
I hear you, sirs. 
I say though, that
everything touched
upon is still with me.
These artistic feelings
exist just for that
outward appeal for
more. 

It is probably an
unhealthy option.
I don't give in much
anymore.  If I'd
let myself go, you
wouldn't be sending
me messages.  We
are stuck in these
words.

Ago

Affections moved to light.
Maybe also reflections of
light, and images contained
in them.  Rafters, some hay,
fresh mulch and its chemical
reactions.  Typing with two
spaces after each sentence
now.  So easily taken back
to work.  Except this time
they know I'm a phony.

The Gals

Mama

Lady

Close Up

Just down the way

It keeps going

Superman does not approve

My love of Milford...

Love on wheels

Back to the Beach (with a new camera)

There's just a lot to process

Hannibal Crosses the Alps - a collaborative sculpture

All in ten minutes

4.3.11
The water is green-blue today.  Choppy.  Windy tree tops. 

I leave the house to redeem a free drink coupon at Starbucks.  They say I'm shining brighter so it must be my birthday.  I can dig that. 

I pull up to the first main intersection between my home and my destination and stop behind a black SUV.  There is a black and white collie-type dog breathing the breeze in the back seat.  This SUV is stopped next to a pick up truck in the next lane over.  Once the dog spots these people he starts barking wildly.  He's now half out of the back window going mad about these people.  The truck inches up as much as it can as the dog cranes it's body towards them.  Dog?  What are you trying to say?  After the truck departs, the dog keeps on going.  Staring in their direction.

I get my coffee, leave the building and the black SUV and hyper collie dog pull in.

Back to the drive to get coffee, next intersection.

I pull a left turn to continue my journey and get stopped behind a slow car just long enough to witness a fight break out.  An old, beat up, green hotbox of a car is parked jaggedly behind a normal looking sedan.  The passenger of the hotbox is banging his fists on the sedan driver's window and screaming.  The words don't matter, just an ensemble of jibberish in high pitched, excited tones.  I couldn't make any of them out.  There is no sign of collision, the guy in the sedan is seemingly calm and the driver of the green car has a bewildered yet amused look on his face.

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