lucky danger

Perseverance

2011-07-31T18:02:00.001-04:00

I found this yesterday. It means a lot. No matter the struggles of our hearts, it is the perseverance and goal of being at peace within ourselves that pushes us forth into our fears. Don't lose sight of that goal. The fears will always come, but treating them with kindness and graciousness, RECOGNIZING them, eases the confrontation. Don't lose sight of the knowledge of that something beyond them. It's there. Don't lose sight of the greater goodness that is.

July 31

2011-07-31T11:28:00.001-04:00

Spurgling
fountain

toddlers
giggling

soggy
diapers

July 30

2011-07-30T12:25:00.000-04:00

Catbird
preening
amongst
wild
grapes

watched

July 29

2011-07-29T21:40:00.000-04:00

in the
alleyway

found

a kestrel
feather

July 28

2011-07-28T18:22:00.001-04:00

Band-Aid.

Rip!

July 27

2011-07-27T22:23:00.000-04:00

10 pm
somber night

motorcycle
blaring
down
the
street

July 26

2011-07-26T22:10:00.001-04:00

dark slate
clouds

lights
illuminate

bright
yellow
foul
pole

July 25

2011-07-25T21:25:00.001-04:00

14 geese

bobbing
bobbing

come in
with the tide

bobbing
bobbing

paddle to
shore

bobbing
bobbing

July 24

2011-07-24T17:01:00.000-04:00

Sunday
settles

into
easy.

July 23

2011-07-23T23:46:00.000-04:00

no TV

just
books
to
read

city
cabin

July 22

2011-07-22T22:38:00.002-04:00

heavy heat

concerned
heart

cat on
doorstep

July 21

2011-07-21T21:18:00.001-04:00

tacky chin

sweet corn

type writer

July 20

2011-07-20T19:14:00.000-04:00

Picking
up dog
shit,
her
collar over
her nose.

July 19

2011-07-19T21:21:00.002-04:00

New
words
from an
old friend

same old
Jennie

July 18

2011-07-18T08:26:00.000-04:00

Cat
hiding
amongst
foxtail

tickled
ear
flicking

July 17

2011-07-17T20:28:00.000-04:00

outside
shut out

air-conditioner
racket

July 16

2011-07-16T18:44:00.001-04:00

mulch fire
black circle

look at
your
fears

White Bird
speaks

with
heat

July 15

2011-07-15T12:35:00.001-04:00

this "thing"
takes breath
WITH
you

hawk
hunting from
limb

clouds
taking up
sky

July 14

2011-07-14T21:53:00.000-04:00

city park

children
dogs

music under
sycamores

July 13

2011-07-13T12:00:00.000-04:00

Wissahickon quiet

mica flakes
in my shoes

peaceful

July 12

2011-07-12T21:10:00.000-04:00

open window,
front:
car exhaust

open window,
back:
birdsong

July 11

2011-07-11T17:47:00.001-04:00

Heavy
breeze

hot

I watch

from
inside

July 10

2011-07-10T15:49:00.001-04:00

quiet
Earth

today,
souls
freed

become
ancient
again

July 9

2011-07-09T10:12:00.000-04:00

mid-afternoon
DARK

thundering
comfort

"Sea"

2011-07-08T14:15:00.001-04:00

Cherson!

Cherson!

You aint just whistlin

Dixie, Sea------

Cherson! Cherson !

We calcimine fathers

here below!

Kitchen light on-----

Sea Engines from Russia

seabirding here below-----

When rocks outsea froth

I’ll know Hawaii

cracked up & scramble

up my doublelegged cliff

to the silt of

a million years-----

Shoo-----Shaw-----Shirsh-----

Go on die salt light

You billion yeared

rock knocker

Gavroom

Seabird

Gabroobird

Sad as wife & hill

Loved as mother & fog

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Sea! Osh!

Where’s yr little Neppytune

tonight?

an excerpt from "Sea", by Jack Kerouac

July 8

2011-07-08T01:53:00.002-04:00

late night
acrobat

from the shelf
twisting
dancing

lower
lower

long-legged
weaver

July 7

2011-07-07T19:38:00.001-04:00

Sneaky waves,
pushed from
behind!

Sneaky gulls,
stolen bag!

July 6

2011-07-06T16:22:00.001-04:00

5th and Snyder
young boys
sell ice cold
water
and
boast
elbow wounds
between one
another

July 5

2011-07-05T18:35:00.001-04:00

acute Sun,
restless
boulevard

at the river
the Kingbird
watches
it's nest

July 4

2011-07-04T09:29:00.002-04:00

freedom
from
fear

barefoot
in the
grass

July 3

2011-07-03T15:01:00.000-04:00

Forecast:

hot
humid

cat
belly
up

July 2

2011-07-02T09:49:00.000-04:00

swollen
cheekbone

mosquito
kiss

July 1

2011-07-01T17:54:00.001-04:00

prophetic dream
and reality
mesh
with
dawn's waking
breath

July Challenge

2011-06-30T20:50:00.002-04:00

Time flies?
9 o'clock
light
just
dusking

------
I am challenging myself, for the month of July, to writing stones every day. This is the beginning.

February Sap Rises

2011-02-13T10:14:00.003-05:00

Sometimes it takes a bit of grit to get where you wanna go. A digging in and conscious effort, complete effort, to allow the old to be overtaken with the new.
When the majority of your days do not hold any satisfaction or support for your heart to grow, seek a new way. Listen to every subtle whispering and sign. Don't question yourself, you already know. The sap is rising within you, let it flow.

Flow

2011-01-28T19:48:00.002-05:00

It has been some time since I have written here. It has been some time since I felt I could let things flow.
I have been in a mode of self-observation. A mode of looking at the object and not the subject. The actions, not specifically the reactions.
What did I find? Fear, of course.
I found myself, and I have been willy-nilly with those fears. There has been more reaction than action.
So, since it is still January, it is my resolution to act, rather than react, maintain mindfulness, and flow.

The Journey

2010-11-26T21:37:00.002-05:00

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Mary Oliver

Fortune

2010-09-26T16:32:00.004-04:00

I am fortunate, very fortunate. I work at a job that now has indefinite overtime, perhaps till the holidays. I have loving and lovely friends. I have family that care, no matter how hard it is for me to get them to let it be known, BUT, I know that they are there, no matter if they tell me they love me, or not, and, this works both ways.
I found a quote the other day, which said that with fortune comes great responsiblity. Perhaps this is why I don't play the lottery, but fortune does not have to be grand, it can be as subtle as my working overtime, or, even more subtle, as in, having those gracious and caring friends. What I see in my life right now is the workings of true LOVE. True love allows for the other people in your life to be who they are, true love allows for you to accept your own crap for what it is, and just is. We are here together and my action reacts your action and vice versa. so, I thank all of you for this gracious feeling I am carrying right now.

A Thor's Day Pome

2010-09-23T21:03:00.003-04:00

Gary Snyder was with me today,
in the rain wet dirt
and the whispers of
browned leaves,
a lightness of being,
subtle and trashed.
As day tide marched
into evening,
I reverted
lack-wards
to
senselessness,
and,
the
womb.

For Sarah (9/11)

2010-09-12T14:13:00.005-04:00

Eyes glaze,
when I say,
“Today is my
niece’s birthday.”
In return, I glaze
when asked.
“Do you remember where
you were?”
(Of course I do.)
But,
today is
your birthday
Sarah.
It has been for
28 years,
however,
I will not raise
a gun in salute,
nor institute
a fly-over,
nor raise a flag.
(Too bad.)
It’s your birthday
and I speak no
ill of anyone
(especially you)
nor wish bodily harm,
nor emotional torment.
We share roots.
(I root for you.)
We are rooted in
this world by centuries
of human ancestors
to whom
deplorable things
have happened,
and, to whom
long life was granted,too.
In gratitude, I
celebrate your
continuation
in this cycle,
ceaseless
in knowing that
fear causes
rash
hate
destruction.
May gentle
thoughts care
for you
and those
whose ill
content
loathes
even
said
love.

8 am Sunday Morn

2010-09-12T08:22:00.002-04:00

refrigerator
percolation

rain tapping
concrete

car wheels
pushing puddles

tugboat horn
warning

church bells
calling

airplane
thunder

The Singers

2010-09-04T18:58:00.001-04:00

The Singers
by Craig Arnold

for Boyce

They are threatening to leave us the nimble-throated singers
the little murderers with the quick pulses
They perch at the ends of bare branches their tails
are ragged and pitiful the long green
feathers are fallen out They go on eating and eating
last autumn's yellow melia berries
They do not care that you approach cold corpses
rot in the grass in the reeds
The gray-shouldered crows hobble about the wren
barely a mouthful cocks her pert tail
and threatens to slaughter the white-footed cat in the bushes
They do not understand that they are dying

They are threatening to leave us how quickly we forget
the way they taught us how to play our voices
opening soul to weightlessness like the Spartan poet
singing under the burden of his old bones
to the chorus girls with their honey songs and their holy voices
how he wished he could scoot like a kingfisher
lightly over the flower of the waves who boasted
I know the tunes of every bird but I Alcman
found my words and song in the tongue of the strident partridge
Where will we find songs when the sleek-headed
mallards are gone who chase each other around the pond
the reluctant duck and the lovesick drake
The way she turns her head to the side to scold him
whack whack whack whack whack the way her boyfriend
chases off his rival and then swims back reeb reeb
with feeble reassurances the way
he sits on top of her the way she flaps her wings
to keep above water the way they look
pleased with themselves wagging their tails smoothing
each feather back in its right place

They are threatening to leave but you may still catch them
saying goodbye stealthed in the cedar and cypress
at dawn in the dark clarity between sleep and waking
A run of five notes on a black flute
another and another buried deep in the mix
how many melodies can the air hold
And what they sing so lovely and so meaningless
may urge itself upon you with the ache
of something just beyond the point of being remembered
the trace of a brave thought in the face of sadness

Dear August

2010-08-31T22:09:00.001-04:00

We've had a tumultuous time of it, especially at the beginning, but I thank you for the grit between my toes AND my teeth. My right to be valued has been reinforced by your residence. You have reminded me graciously that I am my own worst arch-nemesis, especially by relinquishing all others from my presence. I have learned to defend my thoughts and care for those around me more, and, as this is a process, I understand there is still more to learn. I have seen my desires and ideals laid bare and the very habit of me reduced to it's core. More than a little humility is needed.

The next time we meet, sweet August, we will have both been changed significantly. Life will not be the same, but still, I will long for your katydids and young goldenrod with steadfast admiration. I will not forget your fiery omni-being.

Adieu.

August

2010-08-22T13:18:00.000-04:00

August is
a swallow-tailed
haze swerving
ever to declining
days when
folks return
to the city
and the
rambling girls
go overseas

when light
loses steam
and it does seem
migrations
start again
the birds one by one
my heart, too
restless, forlorn
waits to hear Neil chant
"September Morn".

Sunday Sanctuary

2010-07-18T19:47:00.002-04:00

Sometimes you outgrow,
people, places,
ideas, modes,
yourself.
Sometimes there
is a plateau,
turning point,
turn of heel
(heal).
Sometimes
the warning
signs are subtle.
Sometimes you feel
adrift and aimless,
the weathered line
still holding true.
Sometimes the time
is right,
sometimes
you have
to wait.
Sometimes
you can
just
float
to
the
nearest
nothingness
and
just
be.

Early Inspiration

2010-07-11T12:43:00.000-04:00

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
by Wallace Stevens

Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II

I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV

A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

V

I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

VI

Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII

O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII

I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

IX

When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X

At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI

He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

XII

The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

XIII

It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

Saturday Morning Remembered

2010-06-21T19:17:00.008-04:00

Not only does the river flow, it pulses.
My silent sitting does nothing.
Boats pass, birds vibrate for morning discovery.
I see fish surface, debris comes ever closer,
in the waves of wake.
A-wake, I walk back to my bike,
foot to petal, mind to disillusion,
journey to no destination,
just murmurs of mind-guide,
and a reality beyond my
full human view.

Monday 6/14

2010-06-14T21:02:00.002-04:00

9:00 pm mockingbird
closes the eve
lightening bugs
in the shadow of the tree
grounded silence
soon rises

Thursday Zen

2010-06-03T20:48:00.001-04:00

evening garden
breaking soil
ankle bites

Desert Comedy

2010-05-30T20:59:00.004-04:00

Wile E. Scorpio,
sends "truthful"
amends
to
all-knowing
Pisces_Libra
dissident,
disbelief
and
doubt
are
the
remains.
Beep-Beep!

(p.s. There is a distinct and amazing difference
in the many Scorpios I know. This one in particular
I rate as extremely difficult, particulary to my Libra
moon sign. I know when you are lying. Don't push
me buttons. I called you on it.)

No Religion, Just Faith...

2010-05-21T19:40:00.002-04:00

means I believe that you and I are exactly what we need to be,
no concepts or wishes for ideas that defy
reality.

Level 3

2010-05-16T17:08:00.009-04:00

Sometimes change comes on many levels.
New, well, not new, but,
perhaps, stifled emotions
and, the impetus to act upon them.
In plain words, I have found a confidence
that has been dormant for quite a while.
Confidence in the right and wrong of things,
and, when I am being taken advantage of for my
calm and laid back demeanor.
I have found great discomfort in this feeling.
I don't like it. I feel aggressive and angry.
I am not used to that. It feels overwhelming.
However, writing this, I realize that this is the
yang to my deep-seated yin.
I have been attracted to hanging out with people
more fiery than me lately.
There is a fire going on inside of me right now
that has never been so stoked.
I am getting used to it, listening to my yin side advice.
"Let it flow."
Here I am, becoming almost whole, or something,
becoming the friend I need to be, the co-worker,
the sister, the daughter, addressing issues that I surely would have ignored before.
Level 3 for me is high alert, I am that passive
and unused to any aggressive feeling, but it is
here, and I really want it to stay,
at least for a little while.

True Home

2010-05-10T19:15:00.008-04:00

Weeds had grown high around the house. As I drove past the dandelion skeletons, (because the puffs had foofed away in the wind) there was a feeling in me, unexpected.
I let go.
I let go of the romantic notion of things.
Grandma's house was no longer an entity.
At Mom and Dad's, the feeling persisted. Sleeping in the room I occupied for twenty years, it felt, somehow, foreign, perhaps, even, not necessary anymore.
The woodland trails I walked diligently in my depressed youth, I remembered well and with skill, yet, this time, they were not enough.
I let go.
I let go of safety. It is just not there anymore.
What is in my heart now, I am not ready or able to explain fully, but this is what I know.
This is where my heart belongs. This is it, this unknowing, undefended state of freedom.
The clouds ran fast, the leaves flipped white undersideup, the stream tumbled cold and I found HOME.

Nobody Does it Better

2010-05-02T12:22:00.004-04:00

O'Keefe, of course.
Nevermind that you have seen
images of her paintings over and over.
Maybe we all should REALLY look at it for once.
Think about how you would paint anything and the effort it might take.
The effort IS the deep looking, the deep connection,
all else flows from that.
It takes time, like to make a friend.

(the iris photo is my own, the O'Keefe is "Blue Flower" (1918)

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

2010-04-25T22:00:00.002-04:00

Friday night mayhem.
My best impression of Gallagher
without a watermelon and
my friend Deirdre for
comic relief.

The Flow

2010-04-18T18:18:00.002-04:00

A few weeks ago I sat before this little waterfall and watched a little brown snake trying to maneuver the little rushing stream. Now, the little snake was less than a foot long. I watched it swerve it's head back and forth, searching the falls above. Left and right, up and down, and then, slowly and deliberately, it slipped into the stream and down it went with the flow to the Schuylkill River.
This little snake's decision is such a parallel to what we humans also must simply do, stay safely on the rocks, or slip into the stream of what is. The little snake is me and you, your mother and your father, brother, sister and lover. We can make decisions, but most importantly, we have to put them into action. We have to do. We have to put ourselves into the flow.

Two of my Favorite Colors

2010-04-05T08:28:00.001-04:00

April

2010-04-01T19:37:00.007-04:00

tail
snap
squirrel
silhouette
ladders
tree
branches
nipping
buds
here---
--- there
and
-----p
--u

Dirt... not what you think...

2010-03-30T21:27:00.004-04:00

I have started wearing my Grandmother's wedding band. It fits on my middle left finger comfortably (she was left handed) and it is white 18k gold, which I prefer, but more that that, to me, it is a symbol that she is alive in me. She is me, I, her. I am the culmination of her, her legacy, and, thus, part of her legacy is mine. I would like to think it is the no bull-shit that was in her, but I know mostly it is the depression and self-loathing. So it is, and so I have been learning for a long time to deal with, but now, it is time. The ring is on my finger because I know that she is strongly present in me right now and because this self-misunderstanding is to be dealt with. Her karma, mine. I almost feel that this situation has by-passed my mother, which is fine with me, I think I am willing to take that burden on, and, it is not a burden any longer, just because I see it and understand. It has become a gift of knowing. I have a very great feeling that my grandma was a brilliant woman, caught in the unknowing hardness of the mid-1900's, as it was with so many women with their own ideas, passions and drives.
Oh, yeah, dirt. Well, this is where we all begin, so to speak, metaphorically, or not. We each start unknowing and fertile, and blossom as the sun rises and sets each day. We die each day as the sun sets and hides and again, we rise, unknowing of what the next day will bring. What do we know today? What can we know today? What I have to go on is that this ring on my finger is a reflection of generations past and a present understanding of what THIS is. It is a generational gift. You are me, I am you. This is how we grow. We are all the same sense of being,(my family, what about yours?) Think about it.

Harvest Time

2010-03-21T17:21:00.002-04:00

Yup. Spring Onions! What a lovely bounty here on the sunny side of winter! May bounty be the theme for the year!

I Choose Happy, Too

2010-03-14T18:19:00.004-04:00

The lovely Graciel's post for today
has touched the same vein.

Happiness.

I choose it, too.

I am not ignoring the unhappy, just
letting it be, walking away for a bit.
I choose to know and acknowledge that
unjoyous thoughts are ok, I just need to be
gentle when dealing with them.

Put on Your Sunday Bloomers

2010-03-07T10:22:00.001-05:00

Bully

2010-03-01T19:49:00.006-05:00

bul·ly /ˈbʊli/ Show Spelled [bool-ee] Show IPA noun,plural-lies, verb,-lied, -ly·ing, adjective, interjection
–noun
1.a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people.

We all have known one, we all may still know one (yes, i do), let us acknowledge the pain they have caused and also, realize where it has come from. Their intimidation comes from their own lack of esteem and worth. My question, how can we help without becoming defensive ourselves?

This link is of an artist here in Philly, Virgil Marti. I met him a few brief times in a restaurant in the late nineties. It is a wall paper of bullies from his junior high.
http://philamuseum.org/booklets/1_4_87_0.html

It Is That Time (Finally)

2010-02-28T17:36:00.003-05:00

Let's thank one another for patience and perseverance. This has been one crazy winter, but this morning, as the snow melted in the backyard, I found the reward. I found the reward in the tulips tips rising, the sun rising earlier, myself rising earlier, with more energy, with sharper thoughts and the ordering of seeds. Sunflowers for the backyard this year, some poppies, peppers and tomatoes, plus herbs galore. I'm thinking green and glorious and lively. Let's hear it for green tips protruding into our dour, dirty, unwanted hermitage. I have visited frequently, hoping under the snow, the kale was still happy and the winter cress still rosy. They are, and with the nearness of Spring, I am hoping for early gifts of nourishment, and honestly, no more damn snow.
Stay tuned for an update as the snow melts and our hearts bustle with newness and relief.

Friday, as is

2010-02-26T21:39:00.002-05:00

I called 911 tonight. My first time ever. My upstairs neighbor, Albert, in his nineties, fell. I heard it and then heard his cries for help. I had no keys to his apartment, though I should, but I could hear through the floor his pleas. I called and explained that I could hear him asking for help, but had no keys. They sent the fire deptartment. I have never met a more gentle set of fellows (well, I have, but the reference is not appropo here.) They went through his second story window, rather than bust down the door, and, there he was, too weak to get himself up. I assured him that he should go to the hospital, among protests that he just to wanted to go to bed, but I said I just wanted to know he was ok. He went.
In this scenario is my own wanting to take care of my own elders. Telling them to go to the doctors in their stubborness and also realizing, that, at that age I'll be doing the same goddamn thing.
What I like, is that he wasn't as stubborn with me. Maybe I have a little je ne sais quoi with him, and I would like to think it is because he shares the same name as my grandfather. What I really know is, as we age, we don wanna. We are (well, at least most of us) comfortable. It is hard to move from our habits, and granted, making new habits in later years, is a little more difficult. Hence, generations.
So, tonight, I think of Albert, and tomorrow, I will check on him, and I know that he is eating and taken care of. Give your thoughts to him.

SuperBowl Funday

2010-02-07T17:11:00.005-05:00

It's wonderfully quiet.
Officially there is 26.7 inches of snow on the ground,
a little less with sun melt today.
I see the chimes next door moving in the breeze, and hear no sound.
Three turtledoves nestle in their own down on tree limbs.
I've been walking switchbacks all day for groceries, for fun.
Children play on piles that I remember from my own youth as the largest
and greatest thing I'd ever seen or needed.
"Hello."
"Hi. Are you having fun?"
"Yes."
"It sure looks like it to me."
I see yellow spots in the snow and spouse less gloves
and cars as igloos.
The sunlight is waning and
quiet is
waxing
delightfully.

A Little Snow

2010-01-30T16:05:00.004-05:00

It is snowing here now. It is snowing those tiny, compact crystals that come from a deeper chill. They make dust on the roads and sidewalks, and eventually, when there is a more substantial accumulation, they squeak under the weight of feet and tires. This is a welcome to this late afternoon. It changes the scene, it brings a new element (literally) to the table. Here in the city, it covers the dirt, the detrius, the left behind, broken and worn. It makes everything feel whole again.
Really, this only lasts for a moment, until footprints disrupt and car wheels soil, but I am taking this moment right now. Cold flakes on my cheeks and eyelashes, the silent interactions flicker and melt. I blink the wet away and know that irregardless of the pile of dishes in the sink and the dust in the corners back home, my happiness lies right here in this.

Winter Joy

2010-01-27T19:01:00.004-05:00

Winter
mallards
mutter,
putter,
sometimes
bobbing
for
apples.

A New Year Thought

2010-01-03T15:41:00.003-05:00

One of my favorite things to hear is a brass band. There is something to the notes and melodies that come out of those metal instruments that make me very happy, make me want to dance. I was lucky enough to catch one on New Year's and ever since that moment, I have had this odd sense of what harmony, and, essentailly what joy is about.
When all things work together, come together, there is joy in that. Mostly, I feel it has to do with people harmonizing, to finish a job, to find a solution, to build a house, to work for peace, there is joy in that. Granted, it is difficult to maintain all of the time, but I feel it is something to recognize as part of the rhythm of things, not just an end to itself. There will come joy as well as depression, laughter and sorrows. Let it all be your recognition of the rhythm that is life. Get up and dance to the deep metallic beat when the time is right and just as easliy, let the tears flow when they want to come out. It is your rhythm and need to do so.

The Mummer's Are Here

2010-01-01T15:23:00.004-05:00

Yes, it isn't New Year's Eve for them, it is New Year's Day, or rather, here in Philly, Mummer's Day.
Now, I rarely have seen the actual parade fully, as I live a block from where the party begins and eventually ends, along with hangovers, it has been a tough going. However, this is what I do know.

There are bright colors and showy costumes,
I have seen them in the aftermath,
There are sequins and feathers! Oh my!
There are brass bands and banjos, strings and reeds!
There are little and small, big and great,
nonetheless, happy and of a certain gate.
It is the Mummer's strut, perhaps you've heard
of tell, marching and prancing
till the end,
drunken and happy,
the day will
end so well.

(The picture above is of a spot where one of the Mummer's brigades spray painted their sneakers for the parade.)

Happy New Year!

This evening I will sit down to my lucky meal of black-eyed peas(a southern tradition) with a side of sauerkraut(the German in me) and a kale salad(just me).

New Year's Eve

2009-12-31T15:05:00.005-05:00

Tuesday morning, my first morning back from Christmas vacation, I fed the cat out back and went about my rituals. When I looked out the back door again to make sure the food had been eaten, I was startled by a visitor. On a strong branch in the big tree, a red-tailed hawk sat watching the cat. At first, my only concern was for the cat, who jumped the wall and went into his day without a thought to the hawk. Here is when I realized that the hawk was there for me, instead. It sat there for a few moments and when I walked out the back door to get a better picture, it flew. It's visit has been with me since and I decided that I needed to look up the totem. I needed to know the message. This is what I found.
"The red tailed hawk carries the roll of visionary and messenger. This honorable totem brings the lesson of discovering dormant abilities and helps us to see the big picture. It is a symbol of illumination and peace. This special friend offers a path to channel direct contact with hidden wisdoms and insights. It further teaches us to be very observant of these insights and wisdom, the treasures offered by Red Tailed are sacred and of a higher calling. We are asked to show precision and a sharp mind in our hunt for wisdom along our path.
Red Tailed Hawk’s Power is further represented by the beautiful red color that comes with maturity. This is our reminder that wisdom takes time and is not something that is given, the wisdom of Red Tailed Hawk is something that must be earned. Red represents Power, Energy, and the Kundalini. The Kundalini is the Force that directs the flow of all other energy fields within the physical body. This Force lies dormant within each of us when we take up the ~Robe of Physical Life, and is thought to lie coiled at the ~base chakra~ (located near the base of the spine) and referred to as the ~Serpent Power. ~ There the Power lies sleeping until it is awakened via the Soul who begins the journey on the road of spiritual discovery and who is consciously acknowledging and incorporating their Life Lessons."
I need to be awake and aware and see the change that is moving in my life. It will not come all at once, it is always a gradual process.
This evening, on the cusp of a new year, I will continue with the plans I had before red-tail came. I am cooking a simple meal, creating my life collage (that which I wish to bring into my life) and meditating. Not only did red-tail come, but it is a full blue moon in it's home sign of Cancer. This is a great opportunity to send out thoughts of healing and love, for ourselves and all creatures. Thanks to the red-tail, who I have a feeling is here to stay in my life, helping to unite heaven to earth.

Sunday Moments

2009-12-27T09:48:00.002-05:00

After two days of rain, the sun threatened to shine, and promptly did so this morning around 7:30. Yes, there was freezing rain on Christmas, and we cancelled it! Well, really postponed until today, and what a perfect day to do so!
I had been bored and hankering to take a stroll outside for those two days. What I found was a silent delight. The fog from last evening seemed to have settled onto any and all surfaces. The trees with a light-mist-frozen-frosting. As I walked this morning more wonders; steam rising from the full flowing stream, raccoon and deer tracks. Up near the pond, amongst the tall oaks; a Hairy Woodpecker cheerping, a family of Mourning Doves nestled in a treetop, a robin laughing, a titmouse scouring the snow, a nuthatch pecking at bark, and, if my eyes weren't deceiving me, a bluebird (I am not sure I believe myself). Walking up the bank to the pond's edge, I stood and listened to the little creaks from the ice covering and, with my back to the sun, turned to face it. The field behind of leafless shrubs and brown skeletons of weeds were ghostly covered by frost. As I approached them for closer admiration, I stopped. The sun was starting to melt the ice on the tops of the weeds and tiny prisms rainbowed in the sun. Skirting the same field up the hill, I stopped again for closer inspection. On six foot tall dried goldenrod, the ice crystals formed a blanket of velvet over the stem and blossoms, little shards laying this way and that. Over the hill and down through the pines I followed the deer trail, looking for signs of any wildlife; tracks of another raccoon and perhaps a fox, deer droppings and one trail of human boots.
Across the highway, I traipsed back home. One last stop, a dried thistle that not even a half hour earlier was all white, now was half brown. The sun's warm touch. I unzipped my heavy coat, also heated and happy to squint once again, facing the energy of joy.

Silent Night, Holy Night

2009-12-19T21:50:00.004-05:00

It has been YEARS since we have had this much snow in Philadelphia. (a foot and a half and counting) Somehow, for myself, it seems fitting, this silence that it has brought. So far, it has been an extraordinary late fall/early winter. Why? because I feel a discomfort in my life. I don't easliy recognize what day it is, I am moving at a different level than usual, I am seeing things differently, I am seeing myself differently. Something is changing. The weather pattern has changed, too. We have had an incredible amount of precipitation this past year. I seem to be rolling with it. I like it. I like that I am forced to stop and be silent and I have had rainy and, now, snowy days to sit and listen, pay attention! Behold! Each tiny moment is not the same, thus, neither are you.

It's Quiet

2009-12-12T18:32:00.004-05:00

Tonight, I only hear the faucet dripping.
It is quiet, regardless.
Silence has been the solace.
The bitterbug has crept so close and
so frightening, I choose to keep quiet.
Maybe it won't see me or creep into my thoughts
if I am still.
These past months have been wordless.
Thoughts alone have been key.
Silence for understanding,
quiet for happiness,
mind nutrition is free.

Tis the season

2009-12-02T19:44:00.004-05:00

I have no pictures for this, nor do I have a lot of sentiment at the moment.
It is the holiday season and I am working overtime making jewelry for the highest class in the land, of which, I really have a hard time understanding. They drop a dime (meaning thousands of dollars) and then return their purchase at full price. It is the tendency in these times and I say gluttoness.
When I sit and make an object, from whatever the material is, it is just that, material, regardless of the cost. I make due with what I have to make it right. I really don't think about the cost. I have to make the piece work regardless of how poorly it was designed.
So it is.
What is most difficult is the reality of creating these things is that I take a whole lotta time making them presentable and gorgueous. That is my job, to do a good job, and when stuff comes back all trampled and abused, it is heartbreaking. It is frustrating.
I see that many patrons see this as throwaway expense, and that it hard for me, too. I am of the sentimental type. I make things that are important, and want to give so. I pull energy from my hands to make something to the best of my creativity and craft. Alas, for them, it is about show and tell for the elite, (not to take away from the people who actually like the stuff).
So, I realize, my effort will always be there, and my care for making things as they should function and aesthetically be seen will be what I care of most. In one word, craft.
Wander yourself to paulmorelli.com. See what I make.

Sunday Consideration

2009-11-22T15:48:00.003-05:00

CLIP CLOP CLACK

a girl with the sun of the youth at her back
and the shadow of her womanhood
before her on the stones
is approaching with a delicate
clip clop clack
her sandals full of toes
that i suppose are headed home

it's early in the evening
and up and down the river
people begin to gather
pearls of laughter
on a strand

i thought solitude would save me
it was pious
it was grand

but the monk that walked beside me
just let go of my hand

-Ani Difranco

Sunday Thoughts

2009-11-08T17:12:00.007-05:00

I sit on the hillside,
quiet Schuylkill glitters
before me.
Joggers talk by,
bikers squeak by,
at the tips
of my feet
winged red ants
take off from
grass blades.

What a beautiful day here!

Thursday, wishin' for Friday

2009-11-05T20:07:00.003-05:00

For the past two days I have awakened to the thought of Saturday! I thought I could sleep in and be at ease, but no! It is Thursday and there is one more day until a complete lax. A continuation of a weird couple weeks. So it is.
Also, I have had more than a couple of weeks of weirdness anyway. Things have not been in concert. So it is, again. More tomorrow. Movement and change is the norm.

Sunday Thoughts

2009-11-01T15:38:00.003-05:00

This is finally how fall should be.
Here in Philadelphia it has been an eventful weekend. The Phillies are in the World Series and it was Halloween and there was a fantastic rainstorm in 75 degrees of humid discomfort.
Now, it is finally as a fall day should be; a 65 degree chill, the smell of damp decomposing leaves, the quiet of a Sunday morning. Time to wish for a good Sunday dinner and miss the peace of a quiet afternoon of snoring.
Time to read poetry of pastoral lives not unlike the one I idealize constantly in my head. Sunday walk in the woods, squirrels, birds, creek. Nose running from chill, boots wet from hidden puddles in tall grass.
Just the tinge in the air outside my door reminds me of these things, but the puddles I walk in are on pavement and the Sunday walk down the street is to the park. My own Sunday dinner is in the oven. I will take whatever I can get to evoke these feelings of comfort and leisure. After all, it is my own full prescence in the midst of wherever I am that brings peace.

I Love Punkin Week

2009-10-24T18:45:00.002-04:00

Hello again to Punkin Week. (I may well drag this to Halloween.)
This is an ornament I made from copper for Halloweenie. It's a jack, whatever you want it to be. My delight in these past two months (September and October are two of my favorites) is the coming of age, the riping of everything. It follows a purpose and the cycle of all the stuff we can't comprehend, yet.

Found Poetry

2009-10-24T17:54:00.003-04:00

(and also tonight's forecast)

Tonight: Rain with a rumble
of thunder or two early.
Then cloudy skies after
midnight. Low 48F.
Winds W at 10 to 20 mph.
Rainfall around a
quarter of an inch.

Hey, Punkin Week

2009-10-23T18:24:00.003-04:00

Today I present Pumpkin Seed Mole. I fudged the recipe a bit because I am allergic to cilantro. I used parsley instead for the green color and put it on tofu, but I recommend putting it on turkey. Try it out!

Chicken with Pumpkin-Seed Mole

Ingredients

Serves 6

1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 3), each halved
1 small serrano chile
1 small poblano chile
1 small white onion, cut into 1/4-inch dice
2 garlic cloves
1 cup fresh cilantro leaves, plus sprigs for garnish
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons pepitas (roasted unsalted pumpkin seeds)
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
3/4 teaspoon dried oregano, preferably Mexican
2 cups homemade or store-bought low-sodium chicken stock
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
2 tablespoons lime juice
Steamed rice, for serving (optional)

Directions

1.Place chicken in a 4-quart pot, and add water to cover by 1 inch. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat, and cook until chicken is cooked through, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat, and let stand 15 minutes. Transfer chicken to a plate, and cover.

2.Place serrano and poblano chiles directly over the flame of a gas-stove burner on high heat. Roast, turning with tongs, until blackened all over. (Alternatively, broil chiles on a baking sheet, turning often, until skin has charred.) Transfer chiles to a bowl, and cover with plastic wrap. Let stand for 15 minutes. Peel chiles, and remove stems, seeds, and ribs.

3.Process roasted chiles, onion, garlic, cilantro leaves, 1/2 cup pepitas, cumin, oregano, and 1/2 cup stock in a blender until a coarse paste forms.

4.Heat oil in a 4-quart pot over medium heat. Add paste, and cook, stirring constantly, until very thick, about 9 minutes. (Reduce heat if mixture begins to scorch.) Whisk remaining 1 1/2 cups of stock into paste until incorporated. Let mixture cool slightly, then transfer to blender. Add salt and lime juice. Process until sauce is smooth.

(you can also find this recipe on MarthaStewart.com)

Oh, Punkin Week

2009-10-22T19:09:00.003-04:00

It's seems my computer is discombobulated cause I am not getting feeds from other blogs. So, Punkin week will continue here and might move into next week. I was distracted with the finishing of the wedding bands.

This is a ceramic punkin in my hallway. My neighbor Wendy put it out for all to enjoy (which is generally me). I really did like it, but she took it away for some reason. I am glad I took the snap and really like the color of it. It is very warm and an inviting face. Trick or treat?

Here's to Coupledom!

2009-10-20T19:47:00.003-04:00

These are wedding bands I just finished. They are 14k white gold. The couple will be wed this weekend. There is something traditional and rustic about them. I like them for that. I am always surprised by what I make. It is never what I had in mind, but always turns out. The couple has yet to see the finished product. I hope they like them! I feel good about it!

Uhh, I Heard It Was Punkin Week

2009-10-18T18:26:00.002-04:00

This is Christy Harp from Ohio with one Biggggggaassssss Punkin. Bless the Farmer's Almanac.

Odin's Day - Power

2009-10-14T19:30:00.006-04:00

Sometimes there are moments when you realize things in hindsight. They provide instant pieces to some puzzles you have been working on for, perhaps, all of your life.
I have touched on one of those things. One of my working relationships has become, or, I should say, can be difficult for me because I see that it is a power struggle, in the sense that I am being taken advantage of because of my meekness, my non-confrontational way of being, and, frankly, it pisses me off. I have actually become confrontational. I really like it, actually. It has brought out a part of me that needed to speak. This relationship parallels one that I endured directly for twenty years of my life, with my mother. I only put these two together in the past couple days.
I spoke with my mother over the weekend and a conversation I had with her made me understand this. I related that I wanted to join Facebook to keep in touch with my nieces and nephew. I said I probably would use it for only that. She said, "No, don't do that, just get their emails. You never know who will read what you are doing and take advantage of that." A simple reaction from Mom, but, meaning i.e., you could be out of town and someone could rob you. When she said it I heard her words and nails on a chalkboard. AAAaaaahhhh! Now, why that sentence did it for me, I don't know, it just connected and I saw.
I saw a lack of understanding of our new culture and also fear and also a lack of understanding that, I, her daughter, was trying to reach out emotionally to our family. Yes, yes, I know, she is of an older generation, but change happens and must and I know it is probably the best way to keep in touch with them, our family being Vulcan and all.
So, here, my mother is taking control again, as she has many times, with her own fear. You know what? I am 36 years old. I don't need to be mothered any more.
If I were 15 I would join Facebook with a vengeance! No, wait, I am Vulcan AND 36, i will be logical. I am going to do it, actually in a sense of survival. I really think that staying in touch with my family relies on it. I don't visit often enough and it is how they relate, so I am going to do it. It is what is important.
My lesson: I have power. My words, from my own mouth, matter. My opinion and needs need to be heard. My ideas and intuition are true for me, no matter anyone else's ideas. Listen to my heart, no matter.

(The statue, Leif Erickson, at the end of Boathouse Row here in Philly)

Inspire Me Monday

2009-10-12T19:52:00.003-04:00

Warmth

Time to turn in the shorts and bring
out the heavy jeans and sweaters and
wooly socks.

It is time to bring in the plants,
harbor them in artifical glow as the sky
darkens earlier and earlier.

It is time to put on the pajama pants,
bring out the books and paper and hot tea,
let words be a guide.

Time to sit in peace and contemplation
and thanks for the long, friendly
summer days.

(the plant in the photo is thyme, which
brought such a wonderful scent to my kitchen)

Sunday Thoughts-The Parable

2009-10-10T19:21:00.005-04:00

I used to enjoy the parables from the Bible, the teachings of truth in the form of a story. We can all relate. We are the person in the story.
Last night I read "The Alchemist", by Paulo Coelho. Lovely. A fable about a young shepherd who follows his dream. Yes, I was in there, as we all are. I am the shepherd. However, what I realized was that my heart has not been speaking to me. It has been silent for some time. My destiny seems to be unknown to me. Stagnant is the word, though I see and feel glimpses of what can be next. I am in search of expansion. Where is it that it can be found for me?
When we look deeply into ourselves and trust what our hearts tell us, I believe that is our destiny. Just trust with no second guessing and your destiny will unfold before you.

WE WANT

2009-10-08T20:32:00.001-04:00

We want to find water on the moon, cause we can't find it here?

Inspire Me Monday! Small Change

2009-10-05T18:43:00.003-04:00

Actually, this is not about money, but, change in so many ways.
I am inspired by Graciel at Evenstar Art. She is embracing big change in her life, and an essential part of that is when you no longer recognize yourself, because there is nothing to recognize but the conditioned existence that we know. When we move away from that, we really can realize that we can be anything, we are anything. Love to you Graciel, what a gorgeous time you are having!
I realized that, I, too, am feeling change. Several of my co-workers have left or are leaving and I realized that the change that comes with that may be subtle for some, dramatic for others. I also realized that we have to be OPEN to that change in order to learn from it. Sometimes change invokes complete fear, especially when it is not our idea. So keeping eyes and heart open is important in knowing how we can grow from these shifts. The fear is natural, and, really, so is the change. What can we learn from these and how can we change for the better?
This is my inspiration today.

Keep Your Head

2009-10-03T19:30:00.003-04:00

Whatever this means to you today, tonight,
write it down, study it, let me know what you find.
I will do the same.

Keep your head.

Photo from the Yosemite Association Webcam, Awahanee Meadow

Inspire Me Mondays

2009-09-28T19:56:00.002-04:00

Manzanita.
It is calling me back to California, I think. Look at that texture! The color! I want to see it again, with stars above it.
A friend contacted me yesterday, we were roommates for a summer in college. She was from Mariposa, Ca, the gateway to Yosemite. Apparently, she has moved back there. Two days ago, one of my co-workers had his last day with us. He is moving to Berkley. That same day I bought the collected poems of Allen Ginsberg. Many things are filling my head with the need to take a REAL vacation, to get away from the east coast. I have been wanting to go back to California, and now it is a plan, for next year, at least. Time to start saving.

Sunday Thoughts

2009-09-27T17:56:00.003-04:00

Thoughts for the day...hmmmm...everything seems to have been tumultuous this week. I have tried to remind myself that I really am not in control of my emotions, but they can control me and we can run away together into a search for anything, the next thing, the "best" thing, the thing we idealize, the things we most desire. It has not been easy, and, since it was Bruce Springsteen's birthday this week and I have endlessly heard the whole of the "Born in the USA" album over and over and over and over...MUCH to my dislike, I will quote him, "Tramps like us, baby, we were born to run". That is how it feels and has felt this week, more intensely than usual. Just keep going, run from the tumult, the disorientation, the confused, the fear. It will be better on the other side. What I keep finding, though, is that there is no other side. It's all in me head. I am the other side, the inside and outside. It freaks me out.
The picture above is of White Snakeroot, I believe, from my backyard. It is a "weed" that, if no other greens are available, cows will consume. However, it is poisonous, and the milk from cows that have fed on it is also poisonous. This is apparently how Abe Lincoln's mother died. Just a little useless info for your Sunday.

Macrocosm

2009-09-24T18:50:00.004-04:00

As the planets dance with us this week, and, really, it has been a doozy, no? I seem to have been able to find some sweet solace and respite, all the while feeling nauseous with anxiousness and almost complete disorientation. My short term memory is on the blitz, but my energy level high and persevering.
Anyway, in the midst of this macro cosmic foolery, I bought myself an insect and spider field guide. Why have did I not already have such a thing? I don't know. I own guides for flowers, trees, weather, birds, human anatomy, weeds and fish. I guess it was just time.
My purchase was out of craving, having had a long, rough day, but really well worth it. I just needed something. In this book, I found the culprit who helped themselves to my kale and cress. European Cabbage Butterfly (Pieris rapae)
Makes sense. They eat crucifers and the like. Kale actually is believed to have originated on the coasts of Britain. My task for this weekend is to find cocoons if I can and keep an eye on them. I want to be able to see them when they emerge.
I am very fortunate to have a tree in my back yard and space for plants and all the creatures and earthly companions that come with that. I realize that the next place I live will have to have the same. I don't want to miss these important things. These are the simple things that give me the most joy. It is the bigger picture that I don't want to miss.

Autumn!

2009-09-22T18:43:00.001-04:00

Welcome! Welcome!

Inspire Me Monday!

2009-09-21T18:52:00.002-04:00

My horoscope told me this week that I should be looking for signs from unlikely messengers. Really, I do that all the time. I find insight from almost everything.
This Inspire Me Monday, however, is about rebirth. Rebirth, regrowth on the threshold of autumn. See, my kale seedlings that were eaten by some very hungry green worms (see Sunday Thought two weeks ago) found the muster to try again. Perhaps this is my unlikely messenger, but I like to think that it was more than likely that these bare, little stems had it in them to reach for the sun one more time. It is their very nature to do so. Likewise, it is our very nature to reach beyond old habits and ways of being and grow spiritually and emotionally. We must trust in that and be patient and steadfast with this knowledge, just like the little kale stems. We will flourish.

Sunday Thoughts

2009-09-20T16:54:00.003-04:00

Yesterday, as I was working, I had this sort of epiphany, and I say sort of, because I knew all of this before. However, there is a difference between knowing intellectually and KNOWING with the whole of your being. This is what I felt, be prepared, because this is the best way for me to explain it. I am not sure how to describe it any better.

Reality fell away. I had this intense recognition that all of the interactions I was having were a tiny part of something very large. I felt like a tiny part. I felt as if I were just a little vibration in a symphony of vibrations. My movements and emotions were in harmony with something beyond my sense of comprehension and, yet, I realized that around me others were in a distress mode.
I imagined the planets in movement and thought of the trees and the whole of the environment we live in and kind of zoomed into myself and saw that I was not alone in any way, shape, or form. I felt it.
After this the feeling kind of went away, but I am feeling it today a bit. A disconnection from what's around me, yet a sense of connection in a different way. I really feel that I am seeing and moving through reality as it really is. Earlier in my life when I would sense things like this I was labeled as depressed, and , you know what? I was depressed, because I didn't have the ability to relate to what I was feeling and comprehending. I couldn't connect, but, here I am now. Perhaps that was why I was feeling others in the distress mode? They cannot connect?
I must say, though, I am not feeling this all of the time, but this is the first time it has lingered for more than just a moment. It is a lovely sense of just being.

Desert Island

2009-09-17T19:38:00.002-04:00

Remedy
from
hip
multitudes
husk
desires
confections
of
living
goods
and
services
extend
pleasure
sweet
plum
of
just
existing
conform
to
lack
your
pittance
scent
of
clover

Good Morning!

2009-09-16T08:07:00.001-04:00

Inspire Me Monday

2009-09-14T19:07:00.003-04:00

Oh, this is a good one. I bought this plate over the weekend at a "green" festival and I just can't stop looking at it. I have made a meal tonight that I can't wait to put on it. I don't know what it is. The blue, the sun shape in the middle. Whatever it is, I feel this lovely sense of balance in my kitchen. Perhaps it is my earth area for feng shui? Perhaps I was in need of something new in my life. I feel it's presence and it is lovely. I am certainly inspired to cook. It is an object that calls attention to itself, it wants to be eaten off of, so I will oblige after a click of a button.