Exacting moments of lucidity
Saturday, February 21, 2004
I'm waiting to hear from a supplier of tree-free cardstock, who is not too far from here.
I have a list of occult and metaphysical shops from all around the world.
I intend to send a printed flyer of my info to each of them, I'm bound to make connections and get orders eventually.
I intend to have a world market for my Soul Art greeting cards.
I intend to have tree-free cardstock to print them on.
I intend to make an abundant living with my artistic talent.
So it is already done.
My friends are in the city. that's why there's been no communiques today.
Until this evening, when I got a short email message from his cell phone. We go feed their kitty cat tomorrow.
and I thought they were ignoring me. Well, sort of. I wasn't letting myself truly totally believe that. I knew better.
Well, now I feel even more better.
I'm so tired of waiting to talk and relate though. . .
I wonder what's up with my friend ShadiElf? He's complained about my apparent lack of communication with him, yet getting together has been up to him for a while because he's got a lot of things to do, like go to the city for his new job, writing proposals and being with his loved one when he's home.
We've gotten together once in the last couple weeks, and that was for a walk to the store. We had to talk about important things over the cars going by. I certainly would have chosen a quieter way to talk about what is on our minds. During that walk, he mentioned how he'd like it if I replied to his long emails he sent to me. That he took the time to write that much, I could at least acknowledge what he was trying to convey.
I agreed, and also said that I'd like to talk about what's happening right here and right now, that I didn't want to try to remember what the hell he wrote while I'm out in the fresh air and sun. While I'm walking and trying to hear what he's saying in the first place.
Last night I sat down and examined more what he wrote and found many things to write back about. So I did. I replied and replied and added lots of my thoughts to what he wrote tome. I spent a good 4 hours writing. There were two emails that needed replying, and I replied in full.
Now I wonder, in my selfish self-centered way, in my inadequate way, that he might be upset about my replies and went incommunicado with me. I've been emailing, messenging, and phoning, the latter only to leave a message.
But my other side has a notion that they might not even be home, that they both went ot the city. Or they are super busy, concentrating on writing the proposal they have to write.
I need to talk about htings with Shadi, and I haven't really had much of a chance. There's a dance going on, and it's called a void dance.
I want to dance a bun dance. I intend abundance.
I intend to have a world market for my greeting cards. Soul Art greeting cards. I found a supplier of tree-free card stock. I can't sell my artwork, which is spiritual and full of my soul, on tree-death paper. It's just plain wrong.
I intend to make so much money with my talent that I can buy a property so I wouldn't have to slave to rent again. I will it so.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
And that my friend told me that I am avoiding facing what is coming, the impending move. I can't constantly fritter away at something that isn't here yet. I can't just sit there and worry about "where am I going to live?" "what am i going to doooooo?"
I am doing what I can with what I have.
On a side note, my housemate just told me about how she was looking at voodoo sites last night, and I remembered a dream I had last night, a part where someone was cutting the head off a chicken, like as in a demonstration. A pool of dark blood formed under it's severed head. But it wasn't scary.
How do I convince my Shadi friend that I am not a loser? that I am not unconsciou? that I am just as good as him, and do not derserve the criticism based on his own assumptions of me?
When someone implicates that he/she is of a "higher calibre" or more "enlightened" than another, I find a certain blindness in that "holier than thou" attitude.
Activist, religious or dietary choices are common reasons for followers to get all hoyty toyty about their beliefs. In my view, that kind of judgemental attitude negates what the believer wants to "achieve".
There really has to be a heart connection to be a full human. One cannot be on the intellectual side all the time without making their friends feel inadequate, and what's the point in that? What's the point of studying the Word, whoever's Word it might be, if such knowledge makes the student snooty? What's the fuckin point?
Oh yeah, in reference to St Elizabeth, patron saint (ptr-!) of bakers and beggars, and unjustly accused, I wanted to add that I do give passionately. That's been my point all along. To have so much so as to have much to give.
And I love to give of myself for people and/or causes. My cause is primarily of the individual freedom kind. To have the freedom to be who what where how you want to be.
And to get rid of those who would thwart those in-borne freedoms.
Damn. I wrote a bunch of stuff already and went to add a link before I "publish post" and came back to find it erases what is not saved . . .duh ... damn. wotta wast-a time then.
I thanked James III for commenting on my last post about giving most passionately. I checked out his blog and read a reference to St. Elizabeth of Hungary. She is a patron saint of bakers, beggars, wrongly accused, charities and those ridiculed for their piety. She was a King's daughter who renunciated the froo froo of being a princess. She married at 13, her husband was a crusader and got killed in those wars, and before she died at 24, she got a hospital opened in her honor. The pope canonized her four years lafter her death. She is portrayed as holding a bunch of roses in the folds of her skirt, and a basket of bread hidden behind her back. She had to hide her charity work from her snooty family.
that was most of my rantings for today.
Except I added that I don't feel so hopeless about certain friendships today. I think it has to do with a forwarded email that a significant other had sent me this morning (well, late last nite as I slept). It's a SPAM for a woman's orgasmo cream. Clit cream. Dubbed "woman's viagra", it apparently makes her become really horny and jump the guy's bones. he hehe he
Monday, February 16, 2004
I just finished putting together a web site for this year's Wild Earth 2004 gathering. Check it out in my links list.
Anarchistic Nature loving freex gathering together to re-member tribal customs and rejoin tribal kinships.
WANTED: free land to live on.
really
seriously
My housemates are looking into the interior of BC for vendor financed houses on acreage. I'd like to live in this neighborhood. . . but if the winds want me to live far from here, then so be it. I am growing less attached to anything anymore anyway. I am uncertain about where I'll be living in the next couple months.
I feel discarded. not by everyone. just a couple who mean a lot to me. I am uncertain about our friendship. . .
I'm tired.
So tired.
That I want to walk across Canada. Just pack a small bag with a blanket, and walk and walk and keep walking.
But that's just a flight or fight kinda thing, where I want to fly away. I want to leave everything and everyone I know. I want to kinda die without actually having to end the beating of my heart and the flow of my blood. I just kinda want to be gone.
My Will, however, is to find a place for me and my husband and our son and our three dogs and our kitty.
My Will, is to find a place for myself in this world where I can support myself and my family with my artwork.
My Will is to not get trodden on by anyone or anything any longer.
I'm tired of being patronized, told what to do or believe by those who really have no idea who, what I am and where I'm from.
I have been on the Path for all my life, pretty much. I didn't know consciously and confidently that I was always an Earth Warrior. A Witche. I couldn't allow myself to seriously believe in myself because that meant to think "grandly" of what I am. . . the school experience taught me to be afraid of being a "show-off", because that's what happened to kids who are really talented, other kids felt jealous or something and bullied kids like me.
I've always cried easy. That was the main thing to pick on me for. "Let's make her cry" What a bunch of fuckin morons. Now what are those kids doing as grownups? prob have jobs, own their houses, retirement funds etc, but they feel dead. They don't know what is missing from their lives. They are slaves.
And they can go right ahead and be slaves.
S[eaking of slaves, I asked my family one last time for financial help, towards a place to live: father, brother and mother all had the same thing to say: get a job. Duh. I have a job, actually, now I don't. There are no jobs. they all own their own places. My dad owns three houses, two of which he rents out. My brother didn't even have to pay for his house, he married into a rich chinese family and they bought them a house for a wedding present. I can excuse my mom, who never really owned anything more than a car. and my dad gave me shit too for homeschooling my son, believing it was without my son't consent that I homeschool. . . holy moly eh? without my son's consent. . . it's the other way around: I was sent to school without MY consent. I had no say in the fact of going to a place where I was oppressed in every way.
My husband's family is too poor to help us out, otherwise they would. I feel so alone in a a cold hard world. I feel powerless right now.
You know what is disappointing? my life. so far. I guess for every up there's a down. I've been feeling late since my early teens. Since I learned about the Summer of Love an dthe hippies in the 60's and the communes. . . I would look around me and see the eighties plastic shlockery, the yuppies and their stupid sunglasses extreme cool. I look around me now, and now I see a lot of people who are bewildered, numbed and slugging along just to make ends meet.
Always look on the bright side of life.... da doo da doo dadoo dadoo da doo sez Monthy Python. Words of wisdom.
We have alright people living with us. I recognized them too upon first meeting. Sometimes it's a recognition of similar vibes, people on a similar path as myself. I do have a hard time with big egos though. I end up quiet as usual. It's easier to let the bigger egos have the "spotlight", to let the bigger egos talk on and on. . .
but I do have to tell the bigger egos to shut up sometimes so I can say something. By bigger egos, I mean those with more confidence in themselves. I have to tell the more confident people to shut the fuck up. Because Hadn't got any recognition for myself. Ever obscure. Shadowed by (oops) bigger egos.
I'll get through this one too, no worries.
Just majorly bummed at this point in my life.
I added more links on the left of this page.
Enjoy looking at my old artwork from so many years ago.
There's a couple friends' art sites I put on too.
My disappointed Shadi friend now has a job so seeing him will be even more furtive. I'm glad he found employment though.
Oppositely, I don't think my dorky friend who took over the Camp kitchen supervisorship is going to phone me for work anymore because of our altercation over my taking leftover food.
May the winds of fortune blow my way. May the winds bring fortunate news to me and my family.
May the wake up call be a slap in the face . . oh wait, that already happened. . . oh wait, that's still happening. . . ok, ok, it's always happening all the time right here and right now.
I'm getting sleepy, check out my sketchbook sites, they took about an hour each to click onto Geocities web space. (I have to click each file separately to upoad)
Sunday, February 15, 2004
dis appointment on the Mount is cancelled due to rain and grey skies, it seems
Saturday, February 14, 2004
and the Mother of all Mothers, Mary of all the Sorrows
how She/I wept
How it rains upon the mount now
the light that wasn't there
the Light that is always there
Being a lighthouse
gaia ding the other lost souls who aren't really lost
Appointed meeting on the mount
Arrive as the only guest
following a light within
the breaks in the branches above guiding me along the path below
Yearning for recoginition that isn't asked for
Yearning for a contact outside of my self
Yearning
alone
on the mount
the light in the East from where the sun is not rising yet
The light at the top that is within and the East
Reognize the Goddess for who she is
Recognize Her in all you see
Recognize Her in me
This you cannot ignore.
Maria Sophia Inanna
Friday, February 13, 2004
Friday the 13th
The Witche's Sabbath
partly luny tonite
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Fly my Love
Wings of a Dove
Fly to the Sun
and together We've won
something I wrote in grade 10, or 11, maybe grade 12..... can't really remember exactly which year because school just melded into a long interminable jail sentence of meniality and non cognizant of real learning. I wrote a lot of poetry then, as I've done through out the years.......
Certain things make me write from the heart, from deeply felt passion, from yearning so bad that it fuckin hurts.
I've been so withheld, that my close frineds thought (still think?) that I have been lying to them. I felt (feel) hurt at being "accused" of not being on the "up n up"... I tell as much truth as necessary..... in fact, I feel that I give much of myself and my earlier feelings of being taken for granted have something to do with this "lying" business, and being (I felt attacked) "reminded" that I am having dangerous fun and should watch it.
I go into retreat when someone "hurls" anger at me. Especially someone I love....
I am learning to say, "don't tell me what to do"
The raptuous ones fly East, to the Golden Dawn, to the New BEginnings
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
I feel like I'm falling down fast.
Great big abyss yawning below to swallow me whole.
I have hurt me friend with explosive language of the indignation
Feelings of inadequacies and insecurities and just plain fear
originating from ancient cesspool
emitting volatile gases
Weapon of Self Destruction
I altered a bit this description of a power
Someting I possess yet not
I see the potential, there has always been potential, I have always seen the potential
Yet there it is, a potential, still.
I feel like I am sinking, aye aye capt goes down with the ship
the potential feels extinguishing by anger and more anger yet, and sadness and more sadness.
I feel afraid of being left to sink, of being allowed to spiral into oblivion because noone wants to chance being dragged down too.
I have been fucking up too much lately; mostly of the written variety.
I recognize this entry as being a call for help, cheesy as that sounds.
bus stop meeting too short
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Everything was fine when we had money to pay our own way. Everyone was happy when I had enough to share, to give, to make for.
Now I have nothing to share, or give, or make.
Co-incidentally, my friendship with my close friend is becoming strained, I am doing what I can to keep my family fed, working the occasional weekend when work comes up.
and that's another thing, very recent, fresh from yesterday:
a co-worker is now in charge of the kitchen and he's a dork about it. I knew it from the beginning rumours that he was going ot take over that I wouldn't want him to be my boss.
He's a fun guy, great friend, but crappy boss.
He doesn't know how to delegate.
He doesn't have a phone or a car, whaich, frankly, you need to keep that operation running smoothly. There's always something that needs to get picked up at the grocery store that wasn't ordered last order.
Food Safe would fail him miserably.
It's a lot of responsibility to run a commercial camp kitchen.
So day before yesterday he prevented me from taking home leftover food. Food that would rot otherwise, like it's done so many times there before.
I took it home yesterday. and waved the measly container of hashbrowns at him to show how little food I'm bringing home.
So I'm having a hard time getting free food that gets turfed anyways by power freak.
Fuck man, it's not even for me. I want to feed the folks at my house.
I'm having a hard time with my close friend who seems to think that I don't care about him.
I'm "doing my own thing" which bothers him.
Here's what "my own thing" has been:
I've been feeling depressed that my close friend has been angry at me for all sorts of reasons.
I've had a Phuckerware party that my close friend didn't bother showing up for.
I've been just sitting and talking with my housemates.
Visiting and analysing an I Ching toss with a very good friend sister.
Walking to the store.
Went over to Shadielf's place to help with web site while my son and his friend cleaned up the yard waste around the place. They dragged a few branches and decided that they didn't want to do any more.
I felt irritated from the treatment I received by three men in one week, so I did the kid's job and got 20 bucks for it.
It's just not the same that way.
I've given him money before for no reason but because I love him.
I went to the store and got spagetti fixin's. or chili. something tomatoey like that.
I went to visit on Gambier Island our friend who moved there. Nice isolated place.
we had Ragu spagetti, and in the morning, we had pancakes n coffee. Then while they worked on renovating upstaiers, I cracked a crab dude had in his fridge and was gonna turn to yuk if not eaten that day. I made a crab n caramelized onion omelette. with coffee of course.
and the boat ride is a fun adventure.
Much better than sitting here fretting what my friend might think I'm doing.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
"The point is on top of your head, now put your hat back on"
ANTI - Monk's long standing quote
