“Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances.”

08 May 2010


"Samsara literally means "wandering-on." Many people think of it as the Buddhist name for the place where we currently live. But in the early Buddhist texts, it's the answer, not to the question, "Where are we?" but to the question, "What are we doing?" Instead of a place, it's a process: the tendency to keep creating worlds and then moving into them. As one world falls apart, you create another one and go there. At the same time, you bump into other people who are creating their own worlds, too.

The process can sometimes be enjoyable. In fact, it would be perfectly innocuous if it didn't entail so much suffering. The worlds we create keep caving in and killing us. Moving into a new world requires effort: not only the pains and risks of taking birth, but also the hard knocks - mental and physical - that come from going through childhood into adulthood, over and over again."

talked horses with the mennonite.  horses, habits and "showy," how a horse holds its head up.  
puttered, prolly my fave thing to do.  trolled for the painted veil, made eggsalad, waited for you.
theyre saying snow for sunday.  hiking in the may snow sounds good to me.
theres icing on the shift key, ive been a baking fool.  havent cuttypasty since awhile, i think im gonna take that big framed painting and palimpsest.  psychromatic acrylic catharsis. 
were all arriving at some wider acceptance.


"People mistakenly assume that their thinking is done by their head; it is actually done by the heart which first dictates the conclusion, then commands the head to provide the reasoning that will defend it."
i say angels a lot and i dont want it to be confused with the airbrush eidelweiss illustrations one may associate thereof.  like fairies.  just like when you say fairies most people think tinkerbell, or pink and glitter.  no.
hermitage reminded me of this assumption/disconnect.  when i say angel or faerie to myself i see something that not everyone necessarily sees.  duh.  sartre's chair.  so when i say angel or faerie what do i see?
to begin, for me there is a great difference between faerie and elf.  fae and elven.  i would say that all eleven are fae but not all fae are elven.  like all devas are angels but not all angels are devas.  fae are beings, human-formed, and i think of them as the descendants of those first folk run off their own land by imperialists, conquistadors,  of any kind.    we can easily make faeries out of the First People we stole this country from.  these preternatural people imbued with a magickal wisdom, but essentialy ennervated by the dominant paradigm.  like christian europeans turned the religion of ancient romans into a myth.  the myth of the indian.  phony fairy fru-fra.  my fae are bonetrue.  hoddenclad mostly, deep and wise and out of reach.  and like hermitage said, sometimes not.  sometimes mad and shallow and being a pest.  entirely like people either way.  elves are for me more mythological, ethereal, incredible.  elves are the intercessors of fae to their angels.  so onto angels.  not long-legged marilyn-haired heavenly barbies for me.  like God, transcending gender, form.  thats what makes them angels.  all the time, everywhere, adjusting the woof and the warp of the world ambassadors of Grace visible as wind.  


"… for souls like hers the supernatural is quite simple."

in my dream i was on stage.  lots of people on stage, coordinated behaviour.  i am invited.  i decline.  they all go off to practice and i decide to participate after all.  backstage, the way to them is dark and labyrinthine.  tunnels, ladders, doors leading to the egress and up the last ladder i realize i love you and i want you with me here.  my head emerges in open air.  i look down and you are there.


"For our non-German speaking readers, let's give a little tour of what the existing names of female body parts are. I was in Berlin for about two weeks when someone informed me that the direct translation of the German for nipple was "breast wart." That is some hardcore Lutheran your-body-is-a-cesspool-even-the-parts-you-use-to-nourish-your-children shit. It just gets worse from there. What are some of the others?

Number one has to be der Scham (which also means just plain old shame) for what my picture dictionary calls "pudenda (vulva)" in English. Hence the lips of shame (Schamlippen), hair of shame (Schamhaare), area of shame (Schambereich), etc. Oh, and Scheide for vagina, literally the sheath for putting a sword into. Oh God, how hilarious, the picture dictionary calls the clitoris der Kitzler -- I always thought that was slang because it means a thing that tickles or thing for tickling."
                                                                                                                     -from Bookslut. 

after the scaffold metaphor yesterday, talk of Lakota and this photo came through to me.  i learned that this is in fact a Lakota ceremony.  cf. Grace.:


ten for today:

1.  Elvis Perkin
2. pitter pat
3.  baking stuff people like
4.  behaving authentically
5.  my rings
6.  the new neighbors
7.  Greyhaven
8.  the great quiet comfort of books
9.  health
10.  Spring

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"And if the question were asked: What is more real, the mundane or the sublime? most would hesitate before they gave an answer. On the one side, details: say, the aftermath of a breakfast, dirty chipped plates in the sink, their rims encrusted with egg yolk. Against this, the unnameable: small aching heart with boasts, what can you know? Outside the cage of everything we ever heard or saw, beyond, outside, above, there lies the real, hiding as long as we shall live, there stretch and trail the millions of names of God burning across the eons. When all through this our end will come before we even know the names of us.

For many the egg yolk prevails." -L.M.

"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well." -V.V.G.

"The perfection of the Absolute where all Becoming stops and pure Being, immutable, timeless, unchanging, hangs forever like a ripe peach upon the bough." -E.A.

"...and the whole incident was incredibly frazzling and angst-rod and filled almost a whole mead notebook and is here recounted in only its barest psycho-skeletal outline." -D.F.W.

"At the top of the mountain, we are all snow leopards." -H.S.T.

"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." -D.T.
"Cometh a voice: My children, hear; From the crowded street and the close-packed mart I call you back with my message clear, back to my lap and my loving heart. Long have ye left me, journeying on by range and river and grassy plain, to the teeming towns where the rest have gone - come back, come back to my arms again. So shall ye lose the foolish needs that gnaw your souls; and my touch shall serve to heal the fretted nerve. Treading the turf that ye once loved well, instead of the stones of the city's street, ye shall hear nor din nor drunken yell, but the wind that croons in the ripening wheat. I that am old have seen long since ruin of palaces made with hands for the soldier-king and the priest and prince whose cities crumble in desert sands. But still the furrow in many a clime yields softly under the ploughman's feet; still there is seeding and harvest time, and the wind still croons in the ripening wheat. The works of man are but little worth; for a time they stand, for a space endure; but turn once more to your mother - Earth, my gifts are gracious, my works are sure. Instead of the strife and pain I give you peace, with its blessing sweet. Come back, come back to my arms again, for the wind still croons in the ripening wheat."
-John Sandes, The Earth-Mother (excerpt, 1918)