Wednesday, September 16, 2009
But in the meantime, if you're here because you're looking for ME, try this: www.NavigatingbyMorningStar.blogspot.com
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
I am listening to what might be my favourite song ever, by Peter Gabriel (favourite song changes a lot, depending on what I just listened to, but this is an enduring favourite). He says,
"When illusions spin their net
I'm never where I want to be.
when I think that I am free ...
"Today, I don't need a replacement,
I'll show them what the smile on my face meant.
My heart going boom, boom, boom!
'Hey!' I said, 'You can keep my things,
they've come to take me Home!'"
I just love that song. He talks about feeling part of the scenery and walking out of the machinery, cuz the Eagle comes for him and says, "I've come to take you Home." And that's how I felt before -- part of the scenery. I blended in and hid, the best way I knew how, and that way was pretty good. I'd had decades of practice. Being fat makes you invisible. And I've felt caught in machinery -- I thought it was a bad marriage and family of origin and bad jobs ... But it wasn't. The machinery was the trap inside me. The Eagle came for me, God, in whatever way I fail to understand God today, came for me and is letting me walk out of that trap. He's taking me Home.
If you don't understand any of that, don't worry about it much -- I don't either. I'm just grateful for it.
Friday, January 16, 2009
What To Do the First Morning the Sun Comes Back
Find a clean cloth for the kitchen table, the red and blue one
you made that cold winter in
your paper and books. Tune the radio to the jazz station.
Look at the bright orange safflowers you found last August—
how well they've held their color next to the black-spotted cat.
Make some egg coffee, in honor of all the people
who figured out how to brew coffee
from the dark, bitter beans. Remark
on the joyfulness of your dishes: black and yellow stars.
Reminisce with your lover about the history of this kitchen
where, between bites of cashew stir fry,
you first kissed each other on the mouth. Now that you're hungry,
toast some leftover cornbread, spread it with real butter,
honey from bees that fed on basswood blossoms.
The window is frosted over, but the sun's casting an eye
over all the books. Open your Spanish book.
The season for sleeping is over.
The pots and pans: quiet now, let them be.
It will be a short day.
Sit in the kitchen as long as you can, reading and writing.
At sundown, rub a smidgen of butter
on the western windowsill
to ask the sun:
Come back again tomorrow.
"What To Do the First Morning the Sun Comes Back" by Roseann Lloyd, from Because of the Light. © Holy Cow! Press, 2003. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
Monday, December 1, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
2. NASCAR NAME: (first name of your mother’s dad, father’s dad): Thomas Robert
3. STAR WARS NAME: (the first 2 letters of your last name, first 4 letters of your first name): Mokate
4. DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal): Green Giraffe
5. SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you live): Laura Hamilton (I really think that one works.)
6. SUPERHERO NAME: (2nd favorite color, favorite alcoholic drink, optionally add “THE” to the beginning): Purple Sleeman
7. FLY NAME: (first 2 letters of 1st name, last 2 letters of your last name): Kaar
8. GANGSTA NAME: (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite cookie): Caramel Gingersnap (sounds like a porn star name to me)
9. ROCK STAR NAME: (current pet’s name, current street name): Yeshua Cline
10. PORN NAME: (1st pet, street you grew up on): Smokey
Monday, November 24, 2008
Well, you haven’t seen much of me recently. That’s because there’s been so much life to live, I haven’t had a lot of time to talk about it.
Some of it’s been wonderful, and some of it’s felt awful. There was the funeral, and other family things, to talk about. Things I’ve learned. Things I want. And, just no time. I’m sorta keeping up with reading other people’s blogs, but a couple of times a week, not daily.
In the meantime, here’s something to help keep you all occupied.