Green & Yew

Here is the Yew Tree. Lovely name, huh? They're also called Death Trees! Dying to Yew Consciousness! haha! Yews possess a number of bucket-kickin' qualities that've earned them the death tree title. For one, every part of the yew tree is poisonous to humans. Even sanding a board of yew can produce poisonous dust. They were used in bow-making during the middle ages as a crafty way of killing other human beings. I made up a new slogan: "Middle Ages! If it's disturbing, we did it."

The yew has an incredible ability to die and live at the same time. One trunk will decay and within the same root bolt a new trunk will grow. This redeeming habit creates space in between the growing trunks. You could make a home inside an old yew! If the old yew didn't kill you, it'd be fun! But who am I kidding- living in old you's is always toxic!

Yews can often be found in Irish cemeteries. That's what people say. Yews actually say that cemeteries find themselves a yew. And the same for churches! Churches... well let's see... Patrick did all his gallivanting around Ireland in the 400's. That would mean that galumpety churches would be as old as 1600 years by now. But want to know the best fact of all? The yews are older than the churches! Some yew trees in Ireland are over 4,000 years old. People liked to build churches in the middle of yew tree groves. Fairly enough, churchyards have given old yews protection over the years.

Want to know something even cooler? Know what's been discovered about these old trees? The old ones were planted on blind springs beneath the surface of the earth! Want to know something even cooler? The Druids planted circles of yews to mark those unseen springs! If somebody asked me what I did with my life and my answer was that I planted circles of trees that would grow for 4,000 years, I would have done a fist pump for my own awesomeness. Yews emit a vapor in hot weather that Druids would inhale for visions.

What great people. Druids! If I'd been busy with dew and sacred springs and was then faced with dingbat Vikings equipped with axes and gold lust, I would have also turned myself into a fairy and hidden in the other world. But! Now it's all hands on deck! Who knows what old posse is back in the grove. Back in the grooooooove!

A portal to the Underworld, yew say?

(I read this great article by Glennie Kindred to learn about the yew!)

You know, I find the patience necessary to draw a tree... I barely have enough- I've been fidgeting a lot. Then I wonder... what would it feel like to grow into a tree? Woah!

Handsome the Dog

On a dock on the ocean- they'll even visit you there!

The open beings at the bottom of the bucket have a loose-jointed smile. Getting especially pretty, I hypothesize, from a single act spanned across epochs. Pelican puffs up laughing, "I have swallowed one entire section of the universe!" She points to her belly, "Composed one half of twinkling cosmos, I am!" And when going by ones like that we like to stare- gosh you are pretty- what is it? There was Handsome!

Can you give me a kiss that goes to my internals?
The Eternals?

Handsome, yes. Black dog! He is. Big White Dog walks with him always quiet and smiling. A hug from him, that's a present. Quetzal floats around in fog world and says, "Meet my friend. He is midnight blue of the silver streaked quiet sky, writing unseen words shining in sunless caves. His rubies are made of sanguine nectar, clotted clean." Handsome sniffs my leg with all his freedom. A bowl of sparkling pears are a halo around his head. Don't you wonder what he ate that day?

Amber flecks on his lips. Golden pier in a old wasteland, sprouting clovers. Remembrance of someone dear. I think, "I should do something nice for you." He says, "Oh please won't you pet my head?" That makes me happy- I would have done that anyway! And then on the dock he licks all the toes, till everyone smelled of rose. A ruffle behind him and out peeks giraffes running with diamond chandelier earrings, french horns of rainbow squirrels, the driftwood we put in your hair, basil stained into our palms.

And he singing howls, "Swallow comet creeks, vaulted ceilings of galaxies... a twinkle in the wrinkle of tiiiiiiiiiiiime. Shine on, you crazy diamonds!" Beauty here be unfairly given to tomorrow (silly). Beautiful is neither a feature, nor a leader. She could be trade winds, so let loose the sails as you grow up. Would you like some tea?

The water churns below us, black molasses in heat. Wind brews cappuccino, but you could call it frothy beer if you like. A field of pineapples floated across the water. He said, "That's my Father crying happy tears of pineapple juice again."

Isn't it tempting to make a dream with rain?

Wayback Machine

I've been sorting through my old closet at Dad's. I said to Kate, "You know- I'm finally getting rid of everything in that closet!" She said, "Why? Cause you're 29 years old and it's about time?"

Umm...

Yes?


Here's some of my old pieces of artwork! It's like a timeline...

5 yrs

A portrait of Buggy with one of his old friends.

Bunny. 2nd grade, I think. It comes with a poem on the back:

Owno

I don't know
who I am
am I Marrisa
am I Katie
am I Monica
am I Kimmy
am I Shane
am I butter
milk please
tell me who
am I am I yes
your putingpop

This was one of my first pieces in high school. It's Nana and Pop-Pop's old basement bathroom.

Self-Portrait at 15 years. Pissed off?
What?! What would make you say that?

16 years- Mom and Katie from a photograph

16 years- that's a sketch from Velasquez's painting. I began to see then that making a realistic image took practice and attention.

Sometime in high school.

21 yrs. This is the only piece of art I made for myself in college. It's one of my favorites.

Love the View of Heaven, But I'd Rather Be with You

I did a little writing on our trip. Here's a few nibbles:


I had noticed mostly our family's unconditional definition of love, our failed tries. What I felt instead last night was the intricate key that fit into that lock; a heart signature- the beautiful and specialized application of affection. The way the stained glass guild of Chartres Cathedral created a red that cannot be recreated- its expression was a mastery of that group, and it left with them.


When it comes to intent, Relaxation is Queen, and Trying Hard is Duchess. There's no such thing as silence. There is no such thing as nothingness. Releasing the fast furious waves of a certain frequency, we fall into another wavelength. At first its pulse is so long, slow, and gentle that it seems absent. Is everything dead? It absolutely must be, but somehow patience given to nothingness uncovers an aliveness. An aliveness of such immense pulse that it's called subtle.

A kind of living sensitivity- I imagine that when the anhingas spread their wings to the sun- I imagine they are both sensing the ancient heartbeat, and embracing it.

Born at the Right Time

Black Diamonds and Pearls

Remember that old sunshine?

To eat crisp apples underneath the trees- together! Every drop of juice well-educated. The intelligence of it all: the red earth, the green earth. Turning the corner of that familiar place, memories spring up like water. All the time that has passed. Wait, has it? The feeling of being woken up by the songs of the singing birds- could this be a new song? Please keep singing.

I want us to talk about so many things! But how do we speak, really?

If I could twirl that little string of gold around my finger and ask it to move like living dancing mercury the way it loves to- making winging monkeys with stars on their heads and bejeweled frogs that lick flowers- I would like to do that with you. I would, I would.

Heart Trees

Weeks ago I dreamed about all friends together at home. Lots of people that make the heart go boom-boom in full flavor. I was feeling relaxed and love lucky in dreamland as some light peeked into my eyelids, giving the vague notion that I was not with everyone. So said to myself, "Yep I'll have everyone over for dinner this week." I turned over to snuggle with Steve. And minutes later as the light got brighter I realized, "Oh Man! I'm in the middle of Arizona in an RV! Wait! All my friends aren't even in one geographic location!" It made me wonder, "How do you live with that conundrum?"

Something heard my question, and later on I saw a beautiful sight! It was beautiful! I tried to draw it for you:

It was a heart, right? And this heart maintained its heartness while reaching out capillaries that were really roots. Through space and time this heart could reach far like the way the light of the stars crosses billions of vacuums and galaxies in all directions.

Sometimes I feel like the Simon Garfunkle song that goes, "I am a ROCK! I am an island!" I could hear that Song of Alone this one night. and I have always felt that it was coming out of my own heart. But I heard the song coming from far away across space! Imagine that in hearts there are different flowers blooming. Imagine that theses flowers are located all over the cosmos. Say there is a sparkling starry Gardenia behind the Morning Star, and all the gardenias on earth are like bells that ring the same tune as as the one Great Gardenia.

So this night that I was hearing the Song of Alone, I could feel how the song was being sung by the same flowers I wanted to touch and smell! I wondered, "How do you smell something so far away?" The Heart of Roots and Veins just grew! It grew so far across space! Space was like a muscle deprived of oxygen, and the Heart grew capillaries into the muscle to deliver blood and life. It was like the Heart was a Spider weaving the Net of Indra! The capillaries of the heart reached to touch the far-away heart flowers- to breathe them and smell them. As the first Heart reached out, the far-away heart flower singing the Song of Alone turned happy like a little bird singing at sunrise. As the first Heart reached out to touch, the far-away flower glowed and turned to a reaching Heart with roots as well! Together they entwined like the roots of the Redwoods, who underground weave together and anchor each other through high winds. As the heart and the now-heart flower came together, it was as if all the flowers I had wanted to smell were ringing like singing birds, and all across space the capillaries grew and united all the flowers!