Completing the Angel

The Sculptor, Andrea del Sarto of Florence (1520-ish)

On a Big Moon Night

Stevee and I were sitting under that big moon tonight.
We were in the hot tub eating an apple and a chocolate.
We hadn't seen each other in a bit.
He asked, "So! You still torturing yourself?"

Yeah, but I think I'm untying the knot.

That knot!
Each time I come across an artist with more money or exposure
I automatically ask myself a question.

I ask, "What am I doing wrong?"

Then I clench my teeth.
I just realized
I don't have to ask that question.

I had thought
(on account of brainwashing I can only presume)
that I would be valuable as an artist
(like the real ones, not the not real ones, right?)
when hoards of people agreed,
"We like it."


What a stupid idea!

(unaerica at Flickr)
Bunny says, "Hrmm, I think me rethink this a little bit..."

I read m'love "Where the Wild Things Are" as a goodnight story.
Young Max leaves home at night.
He travels all around the world to play with the monsters
and live in their world.

But Max misses being loved.
So he sails across the ocean,
and after years away he arrives home again.
And his meal is still hot.


A scrap of angel lullaby down some forgotten street

Standing on the moon with nothing left to do
A lovely view of heaven, but I'd rather be with you.
Be with you.

Crimson white and indigo
Indigo.

hunter/ garcia

The Fountain

After The Golden Thread
Dana said, "Look for shit in the mail. You've gotta see this."
So The Fountain arrived. And I watched it.
And now I have to say too- Oh my heavens- you've gotta see this.

Truly, you've gotta see this.

Aronofsky!
He made a movie of Air and of Sky!

Mr. Grangus

Theophilus Grangus
Master of the STRANGEST
He lives within the winter grasses
An' blows his snow upon the masses

Theophilus Grangus!
Master of the Strangest!
Won't you do us a precious favor?
Send back yu sister-
She has better behavior!

Royalty for All

I made a tube of vanilla lavender! Look and it attracted a Stevie Bird! He fluttered away after this picture was taken- I hope he comes back!

I love luscious scents! It makes me feel like royalty! And we are. Now we have running water and toilets, baths and showers and such. Remember how in the Middle Ages we had to watch where we were going on the street for fear of a chamber pot being sloshed over our head? And how everyone smelled waaaaay worse than body odor, and how there were insects in everyone's hair? Eww!

When I was living in a place I was embarassed to be living in I pretended I was a princess! I pretended I was the only person in the world that had running water. I pretended that when I woke up to the sun it was the sun that was coming to wake me up. "Wake up, Shani, I'm here!" I would walk past beautiful houses and smell other people's roses and talk to the rose and tell it how lovely it smelled. Sometimes I'd put my feet in the river and fall asleep, knowing there were cars rushing by... and one voice would say... maybe there is a job for me... and another voice would say.. but I am a princess someone has to smell all these roses when people go to work...

Once when I was two my parents couldn't find me. Eventually I was discovered in a closet eating a tub of butter. My Dad said, "Shani! Shani, what are you doing in here?" And I told him, "I'm bein' sneaky."

In kindergarten I had a role in the school play as a snowflake! My Mom and Dad got me a pretty silk and lace nightgown for ladies and Mom tied it up in a sash so that it fit and flowed around. After the play the school guidance counselor saw me in the halls and said, "Ooo! There you are, snowflake! What a beautiful dancing snowflake you are!" The amazing thing is that she kept saying it! Years later I fell down on my bicycle. I sat all skinned up on the sidewalk, and who should pull over but her, and remembering me somehow she said, "Come on, dancing snowflake, I will give you a ride home." As Steve and I have been cooking I've been thinking about the visions of life that other friends have held for me, held with me. I feel so glad to have been called a dancing snowflake. I feel so grateful for that man in the kitchen whose eyes sparkle and who says, "I'll get the dishes, you go say what you want to say." And for all the special people around, you know, us holding our visions for each other. Feeling so much for what is, what we are, and I want to say Thank You!

Illusion versus Reality/ Reality verses Illusion

*

An

illusion
alludes
to what has
eluded
us.

*

Who painted this?

elude

Etymology: Latin eludere, from e- + ludere to play

2 : to escape the perception, understanding, or grasp of

al·lude
Etymology: Latin alludere, literally, to play with, from ad- + ludere to play:
1 : to make indirect reference alluding to an earlier discussion

il·lu·sion
Etymology: illusio, from Latin, action of mocking, from illudere to mock at, from in- + ludere to play, mock
1 a (2) b (1) : perception of something objectively existing in such a way as to cause misinterpretation of its actual nature

The Birth of Pegasus and Chrysaor from the Blood of Medusa (c1876-1885) by Edward Burne-Jones

One moon for the list.
There's many heading to town, so mind the traffic.
Turbo is for safety- not just the brakes.
Please don't hurry. Please don't delay.

Picture of Jesus

Jesus has that sun behind him. The sun is like condensed fire, and I think what he was doing when he was being nailed to the cross, while simultaneously feeling compassion for the people putting him on there, is that he was affirming the long-time sun he shared with his executioners. In an incredibly convincing physical reality, he remained identified in the eternal realm. And that radiance opened a tunnel of remembrance for the people around him. His radiance was like a fast fire that burned through the underbrush, burned a fast line through the forest clear across to their sun. Like, if we all have suns behind our eyes and they can ignite each other- his sun was so bright it just ~woosh!~ lit and lit!

And I think the reason there were so many saints around him- or whatever we call them- so many people with suns behind their heads too- is that it was inevitable. He was like the lighter I have that can light almost any candle. If I turn the lighter up all the way it has a big strong flame, and even if a candle has its wick stuck in the wax or something, the flame will melt the wax, and the wick will begin to burn. And if the wick is already in good shape and ready to burn- all it needs is the touch of fire and it burns. That's just how it happens. The sacred heart is inevitable like that.

It seems natural that we ought to try and be like that- do our best to make our sun shine. Dana and I were saying to each other, "I've tried hard to make myself grow and all the growth that's really changed me had nothing to do with anything I tried! One day- something changed, and it didn't seem to have much to do with my trying." Sometimes I put pressure on myself to be better. For better or worse, I don't know.

He did say it was okay to be a little bird and sing, "Sun! Sun! Sun! Here he comes!" Or a flower. Anyway, I love him, is what I'm trying to say. And I'm going to stop trying to be like him. And just cherish him.

But, um, the fig tree thing. If anyone we know is a fig tree... Fertilizer! Stat!