Pictures!

We started out in Phoenix. Here's the first fountain, civilized and such.

Sunset at Apache Junction. There were little bunnies all over this place! Those are the tops of Saguaro cactuses. We learned they can be a full 30 years old when they're just 2 feet tall!

The sign said something like,
"WARNING: Flash Floods/ Death is Imminent."
But Steve drove across it anyway.

And we wound around Tortilla Flats.
Donde estan los burrittos?

There was grass from the rain!

Stevie

in full effect!

Lake near Roosevelt dam. Damn dam is what I like to say.

We got into Sedona yesterday and the first order of business was water! This road to the Springs was closed to traffic because of structure damage from rain earlier in the week, so we walked down it with all our bottles in tow and filled up!

Yeah! Now that's a fountain!

Technology!

This Operating Systems we've got can process advanced applications on its heartdrive.

Now that we have antivirus software... I want to write new programs- with less energy demand and higher output! And I bet there's an infinite number of fun existing applications I never knew existed. Gonna delete running apps that slow processing, optimize the ones that work, and explore new ones! Who knows what's out there?!

Man, gadgets on the outside are only so advanced- internal upgrades are where it's at!

Will

Sumptuous purring delicious relaxation. Enough warmth and pressure, and those peas are tender. Surely that is a beautiful part of the dream- the dream that beckons to be, that moans in good feeling for more of what is. Will and dreaming. I wonder I wander I wander...


One of the most dangerous things we can do in nature is to interrupt the will of a wild animal. Everybody knows not to mess with the Mother, a bear. A tortoise will give up its life for a chance to mate. It's as if current life is secondary to current will.

A human has free will to create a life that isn't subject to the popular programming of our species. Who does it? We can be kinder than necessary for physical survival. Because we will it? Visions and realizing dreams are the jurisdiction of will. What are we capable of when wielding it purely? How do we unite ourselves entirely to the intent of our highest will? What is our highest will?



Is it possible to answer the question with words, picture, scent, song, touch? (The hope of art and lovers) And are senses like the petals of a rose? Soft petals that fold over each other in perfect pattern; enclosing, protecting, and yet also revealing the pristine center. The center. Sent her. Scent here. Sent here. Petals all around circling the golden crown.

We have the inclination /desperation for some sort of wider sweeter trajectory. As if the movement itself is the wholeness. *That* direction.

I agree now that it is a feeling. When I ask myself, "What is my highest will?" The only answer that feels right is that twinkle in the black- my heart and those eyes. I saw black eyes so warm and kind they held a world- like cream skimmed off the top of many glasses of milk. I wished for something I don't know how to wish for.




Hit the note. Silence hits back.

Beautiful Days in Beaufort

"Man is what he believes. The more refined one is, the more unhappy... You must trust and believe in people or life becomes impossible." -Anton Chekhov


Steve and I are jumping in the RV and driving to Arizona...

Floating

Tonight I fantasized about living in a little hut in the grasses near the ocean. Catching fish, growing wildflowers, watching birds, making their portrait.

Yesterday I took off my clothes on the wide low tide beach. Walked into the water and floated myself in the ice cold. The shallows span out in all directions. Looking to the sky, the dome of vision made me feel a body bobbing between sky and water. A little scared, a little peace, a little perfect. Felt alive.

Sometimes I get restless over spiritual head-soup: Jesus /end times/ perfection in the chaos/ whatever I'm obsessed with at the moment. Fretting over the quality of my soul (as if I know what that is) makes me tired and instead I want to just scream, "YES!" to my blood. Eat wild things. Feel the breeze of the heron as he wings by or shiver in the ocean under the stars. I wish I knew the stars.

In fact, I wish I knew everyone I know.
We do our weeping alone and that doesn't help.

Ocean Dress

Shelter. The quiet repetition

Can you feel the sinews crack like an oak that has no water? Branches come down when there is no life to uphold them. Down go the trees. Is it not so bad? Is it a deal with God?

The everlasting chaos growls in the afternoon, but as the sun sets, the ocean gentles into a slippery satin gown curving over the sands in thick fluid folds. Flirting. Crowning herself in so many burning jewels. They shine on your dress, Your Royal Equalness. Pride and Lust so bright they're divine make emeralds blaze off the water. If we jumped in it would be like she'd never been there at all. Unless we gave up. Then she would hold us forever and swallow us too, laid to at her feet.

Or would it stay real? Would he whisper indigo velvet in the deep night- something sweet to make it complete? To make the dream breathe? Scents of vetiver chypre soothing through the ear...

one pine in the field, smiling at you.

Oh Haiti

To support artists and artisans near the epicenter through the Vassar Haiti Project, click on this painting:

I've never bought a painting before and am doing it now.

Caryn Halle, my friend who works with the artists (and practices her Haitian Creole), says that in addition to the Vassar Haiti Project, the other organization she'd recommend supporting is Partners in Health, "an amazing Boston based organization that has the means and the reputation to see that money intended for earthquake relief reaches its victims.."

Donate Here

Make Something of Yourself

I waitressed in high school and one day called across the line to my buddy in the kitchen. I said, "Murphy, what kind of school'd you have to go to to work here?"

He said with his voice cracking, "What... what kind of school?!" and then doubled over laughing.
With one hand on his knee he pulled the arm of the grill cook and said, "Shannon wants to know... ha!... to know what kind of school we had to go to... (whimper) to work here."

The grill cook spit a laugh through his lips and they both buckled under the weight of their laughter as I stood watching them in my uniform collared shirt. The question was especially poignant that day (apparently), since I'd failed to notice that our dishwasher, another great guy, wasn't at work as a result of being jailed for cocaine possession.

So later Murphy at the salad prep says, "Shannon, you've got potential. You gotta get out of here and make something of yourself."

Yeah I've been trying to do that.
It's good, you know, making your life your own.
A precious luxury in this society.

This Friday I woke up in a bad mood. I said I'm tired of trying to be somebody. I've tried very hard to be important. It hasn't gotten me more love. In fact, love seems to be oblivious to this entire facet of pursuit in my life.

Today we all sat around eating together and telling stories and playing with the kiddos. Just had the best time. And in everyone's eyes was a sparkle that warms my heart.

You know- getting to love such precious people-
loving the wind as it makes me cold and the birdies flying like a school of fish- it makes me feel a part of something so profoundly good in this world that I feel like I already am something.

How about Valentine's Day?

My friend Pat- that's Pat on the right
She's been asking a question I want to share. "How can we make Valentine's Day a day for the heart- really? In what ways can we create a day that's about being good to each other and being in our hearts? And how can we give to children especially?"

Ann responded- here's Ann:


"You know, my husband always says that holidays are made by the card companies to generate profits. But I feel that some days ought to be commemorated. And I don't have to buy anything to share love with the people in my life."

So how can we make Valentine's Day deeper, wider and sweeter? Especially keeping children close in heart?

A Poem for Friday

A $3 copy of Leaves of Grass found me in a little shop by the marsh. Walt Whitman- what a sweetheart. I like this poem. Especially considering that he wasn't particularly fond of sleeping with women...

(ROSETTI, Venus Verticordia 1864-68)

TO A COMMON PROSTITUTE

BE composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature;
Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you;
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you.
My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to meet me,
And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till I come.
Till then, I salute you with a significant look, that you do not forget me.

Boogee!

Steve and I made a Dance Video!


Niece Aly summed it up best:

Secret Language of Elephants

Would you like a treat?
How about.....
Elephants!

(Click on the elephant to read the story and watch video)

I love this program.

It warms my heart that the Elephants' Language is receiving attention. I've heard it said that whales are our oceanic wireless internet. They receive newly transmitted information from the heavens then sing the current vibration through the seas in intricate patterns all over the earth. Elephants are the land counterparts of the whales. Their big drum feet sense frequencies and their infrasonic calls sing to their friends near and far. And those trunks! And those ears! All the amazing ways they can hear. Aren't they wonderful?

Peace Heart

Happy New Year!

That's the Peace Rose there at the bottom. I made this today with colored pencils Mom gave me for Christmas. She came over tonight and we colored. I didn't have any paper except the printout of Approaching the Vibrational, so that's what's on the other side.