So, this morning I was waiting for the bus and out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure pass by. At first I thought it was an old friend - roughly the same build and height, and wearing a coat similar to the one I'd last seen them in. But upon closer inspection it was someone else entirely.

Naturally, this got me thinking about my friend and wondering what she's been up to over the last year or so. We used to work together, and erl_queen and I had invited her to attend a couple of our festivals (including the lovely Bast Journeys one) even though she's more into Afro-Caribbean stuff. Well, my bus eventually arrived and I got in line to board ...

... and up walks Cheryl herself. My jaw dropped and I laughed aloud. I mean, I haven't seen or heard from her in almost a year! Then poof, this happens. I explained the wonderful synchronicity and we chatted for a bit until I had to actually get on.

I'm still tickled by it. The world really is a magical place and the more you lead a magical life the more this stuff seems to happen. I don't know if you attract it to you through magic, or if the magic just opens your eyes to what's already there, but either way I love it and love our world which is so full of awesomeness.

This is an open message to all members of daydverse and followers of--and I quote--"Supreme Commander Andy Blake".

You will have noticed I have purged you all from my friends list, which is why this post is not locked. I am very sorry if anyone has hurt feelings from this. It's not you. I think you are all lovely people. But you are choosing to be willfully blind to the perfidy of Amy Player/Victoria Bitter/ Andy Blake, and I don't want any more fallout.

There is overwhelming proof that Andy Blake is a liar. He/she may simply be deluded by his/her own mental difficulties. It is not for me to say. The proof, as I said, is all over the internet.

You have all chosen to ignore the proof out of blind loyalty. That is your decision. If you wish to shut off your minds enough to believe the patent nonsense coming your way, I can't stop you.

IRA connections? Shady pasts? Claymore scars acquired in heroic Irish bar fights? EVIL TWINS? Really, my dears? You believed all of this, and still do despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary?

Last night I received an epically mind-blowing series of emails from m_oquinn and Andy, claiming Cfc was under some sort of psychic attack from a 16th century, undead shaman-wizard.

Let me repeat that louder for the hard of hearing: UNDEAD SHAMAN-WIZARD.

Are you buying that, as well? Maybe Andy's evil twin can defeat the UNDEAD SHAMAN_WIZARD.

This was my final reply, after stringing them along for a bit. For the lulz. Yes, that was bad and wrong of me. Mea culpa. Here is my full reply:

"Okay guys, this has been vastly entertaining, but I've had enough. I don't know if you all are serious about all this and therefore either being duped by someone or are in real need of some help, or if you're just trying to draw other people into your little games, but really. This? All of it? A genius level of what-the-fuckery.

Some good lulz, but I like playing in the real world. You've failed your saving throw. Your low charisma stat made this inevitable. Is there a paladin in your party?

Evil twins, IRA, mysterious pasts, Claymore scars, now astral undead wizards? Really? And you all just believe this? Without a second thought? What next, a coma?

Such amazing energy and clear creative talent should be used for something a lot more productive than this nonsense. It's a shame that the talent doesn't seem to be enough.

I'm sorry. I just can't be a part of this drama and lunacy. I have a life, in the real world, and I like it just fine. I hope all of you find the same someday."

I am praying that those of you who are still blindly loyal will take note of this, and perhaps, wake to the truth. You are being duped and used. And Andy is snickering behind his back at your gullibility.

Friendship is a matter of trust. Andy is not your friend.

[The following is from a larger current project of mine, on tracing the contours of Desire]

Post dinner and wine in a Los Angeles living room, I listened to some works in progress by pianist Dana Reason. She sat at the holiday card covered piano with pages and pages of scores in front of her and played. I was startled by the brilliance of both the compositions and the playing itself, as well as by the fact that she was willing to share uncompleted work with us... and it was good. Very, very, very good.

After the impromptu performance, several of us discussed the difficulties of being a female (and blond!) jazz composer while the shouts of children, banished to another area of the house, rose and fell in counterpoint. Dana has been training since age 3. She is taking a risk right now, experimenting more and more with form - with what I teach in my own work as guideposts or anchors to the processes of intuitive connection - in the midst of which she can fly. Through all of this talk of study, of composition, of challenges with sexism, industry expectations, and of risking with a shift into a new mode of expression were two threads twining tightly around each other. These were the threads of remaining true to self, and of following desire.

How do we continue to follow desire, even when huge obstacles arise? How do we remain true to ourselves, and take the risk of setting down the small cup in favor of the larger? What keeps us going? And what undermines us?

For someone like Dana Reason, I would hazard to guess, what she desires is also her True Will, the work of her God, leaving her little choice but to follow along in hot pursuit. But what about for the rest of us who may not have tapped into that yet? How do we approach desire? This is a large subject, of course, and one that will not be plumbed in this one entry. But let us take one facet and begin examination.

Desiring is like falling in love. Or perhaps falling in love is the kindling of desire. There is an object and a subject that are seeking to become one thing, like a woman at her piano, making music from the mind and soul. We are overcome with desire and what then? We need to make a decision whether or not we will pursue or thwart desire, whether it will be relegated to the realms of fantasy or we will enact will and move toward daring.

People who follow desire, who feel the first rush and then enact their intention around it, are the people who create art over and over, who start humanitarian organizations, who do great things, whether in the public eye or through reaching one being at a time. One definition of desire is to follow a star. To set off on a journey with uncertain end. To risk safety for the unknown. To follow the beating of your own heart’s rhythm, regardless of what others may think of the song.

We do want to communicate. We do want to share. But genius always includes the element of the unexpected in it. Surprise is at the core of innovation. Do we really want to create the same things over and over? Is all we really want, some comfort? I don’t think so, or why would desire keep occurring, at the most inconvenient moments, calling us to someplace new? Even the best map cannot tell us what we will encounter on our journey, and the best journeys may begin with a charted course, but always veer off into the unknown.


I heard desire both in the piano notes and the conversation that followed, and I liked the music it made.

Are we willing to surprise ourselves?

Who Are the Climate Change Skeptics?

Not surprisingly, they turn out to be...not so credible.

Jesse Duplantis is so much fun to watch. He's a great storyteller!

QOTD: "Love has been in perpetual strife with monogamy." - Ellen Key

"Stuff I already knew"

The skeptics don't have relevant credentials.


(Just in case you weren't sure that there was any kind of bias...)

Cold meats and salads at my folks' house. Poppy & Forrest did beautifully on Christmas day, surrounded by 9 people. Poppy made a play for the ham on the table, but we caught her before she managed to pull it down.

Spent Christmas with assorted siblings, nieces, nephews, and one great-nephew. My family are a bunch of funny, snarktastic, singing, story-telling weirdos. It's a crowd where I can mention having told a story they haven't heard and my older sister will ask me to tell it...we do not believe in getting too old to listen to stories (or in having heard them too often, for that matter).

Which reminds me, I need to work on my story repertoire. I am planning to go to the Southern Order of Storytellers' Winter StoryFest in January, and may sign up for the open mic this year. There are occasionally paying gigs through them and now that the grad school crazy is over I can make myself available for those, but to do that I need to have more stories I can tell off the top of my head. There are a couple of Jack tales that I like but need to come up with my own versions of, and I need to re-memorize "The Raven Princess."

Nicodemus, Rasputin, and I have been working on a story of epic silliness and rampant lunacy, and it has finally reached its conclusion.

I bring you the Gothic romance with bonus! Nazi vampires for your edification and enjoyment.

( Read more... )

Living in an extremely small space now, I've placed all my big statues in storage for the time being.

Here is what I'm working with:

Yesterday was full of food, family, and friends...way too much food, way too much alcohol. The neighbors, finehorses , dad, and my aunt and uncle came over for the customary Christmas day feeding frenzy. On the menu, my famous homemade eggnog, marrachino cherries soaked in Kirshwaller and dipped in chocolate, my famous wings, smeltz, cheese and crackers, veggie tray, dad's homemade stuffing, assorted nuts and cookies.....and an open bar (of which only beer and whiskey were requested).

We exchanged prezzies--wow, just when you aren't expecting anything the Universe showers you with gifts. Dad gave me Smiley cookies from Eat N Park (my favorite), a box of cheese from Hickory Farms (yum!), and lunch monies. lol Lots of lunch monies. The neighbors got me a new George Forman grill and FH gave me a cute little holiday shirt. My aunt gave me Swarovski crystal snowmen earrings, $50 gift card to Macy's and Susan Boyle's cd. Yes, I already have a copy and now I have 2!!! SQUEE!

Dad's friend, Sam called and wanted him to come down for a drink. I told him I'd go with him and I'm sooooo glad I did. We only had two drinks there, but wow, dad got really drunk really fast and he wasn't even guzzling! I had to drive his LaCrosse home. le'sigh. It is convenient we all only live a mile from each other.

It was only around 9pm so I decided to just lock his door and walk home. The temp was still probably hovering around 40 degrees. I was partially pissed and partially enjoying it--although I did end up landing on my knee twice ROFL. Clogs and rocks don't do well together. Yes, yes, I could have driven the car home and taken it up this morning...however, I was pretty toasted myself, just not as much as him.

Thank you, Irene, for letting me sleep until 7am!! SQUEE!

Dear Gnostic brothers and sisters,

I wish to congradulate you with Saviour's Incarnation Day. Merry Christmas, be happy, and, please, don't forget about our common serving to Gnosis.

Yours,
Alex Moma, Ecclesia Gnostica Russica.

QOTD:"You cannot belong to Christ unless you crucify all self-indulgent passions and desires."-Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict)

I had put away my collection of the Robin of Sherwood series for some years. The last episode with Michael Praed really seemed like an ending even though it continued for a year with Jason Connery.  But tonight, with son-unit out with friends, we pushed in the first two episodes of the Jason year. And once again, the series worked its magic.
When I first saw Robin of Sherwood, it was well before I had anything like a pagan identity. My wife was heading in that direction with spiritual feminisim but I was really nowhere religiously. It would not be till 1988 that my first experience with magic slipped up on me.  But somehow, the whole corny mixture of downtrodden peasants, evil Normans, and Herne worshipping, freedom fighting outlaws just entranced me.  And then there was Maid Marion (Judi Trott) as HPS. 
I avoid most movies because I hate to feel manipulated and one thing this series does is pull out all the stops on manipulation.  And yet instead of feeling like I had just consumed an entire banana split of fake emotion I come away feeling uplifted.  Peasants chanting "Herne protect us!" somehow works for me.  Not that downtrodden peasants ever prayed to Herne en masse  but that it should have happened, if not here, then in some alternative universe.
And then I was struck at the very red haired Judi Trott as Marion.  And I thought about Mythago Wood and alternate universes and how this Maid Marion was  like Gwyneth in Mythago Wood - from the holy wikipedia:

Guiwenneth of the Green (also Gwyneth) 

This female mythago (usually evoked as an older teenager) is from the Bronze Age and appears in various incarnations throughout time, including protomyth, a girl from Roman Britain, a manifestation of the Earth goddess, young Celtic warrior princess and Guinevere.^[8] Each of Gwyneth's incarnations has a varied personality, some dangerous and others alluring . .

The wikipedia does not mention that the Mythago Wood protomythic celtic warrior princess/Guinevere has flaming red hair.  Perhaps the protomyth is just so powerful that it can even self launch its own TV series?
And speaking  of the passing of the author of Mythago Wood,  Robert Holdstock, I read a very brief note note on his funeral.  It was held at Rosslyn Hill Unitarian Chapel and the casket was made of wicker and entwined with holly - two things that touch my heart in different ways.

Or Merry Christmas or whatever all you lovely people may celebrate.

I'm planning to combine the holidays...First, I'll slay a white bull, then go caroling covered in its blood, carrying my labrys, bedecked in mistletoe. Festive!