Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.


Happy Solstice!

"If you mean what you're singing, people understand."
-Jim Croce

"I write from instinct, from inexplicable sparkle. I don't know why I'm writing what I'm writing."
-Paul Simon

"When you stop putting yourself on the line, and you don't touch your own heart, how do you expect to touch other people?"
-Tori Amos

"poetry is being, not doing"

The weekend was too long and not nearly long enough, all at once. There were moments that will be stored in my memory banks for cold winters in years to come....and moments when Mercury retrograde and my own innate restlessness conspired to make me miserable. And the headaches did not help. Perhaps I'm stressed out a bit?

I literally got in touch with my own inner fire over the weekend....while stoking a fire and nurturing it from simmering remnants to a nice bright blaze, I managed somehow to snare a coal with my finger...which hurt for a minute, and blistered, but hasn't bothered me even a little since. I spent long moments absorbing cold air while taking in woodland vistas and looking across a deep valley to watch the sun come up. A picture window showed me the stars as I remembered them and so rarely get to see them these days. The moon peeked at me from between wooden beams one moment and apartment buildings the next. The Mother reminded me one more time that I am Her child, like it or not....that no matter how much I love the accomplishments of my brothers and sisters in building a place safe from all the rougher parts of Her body, I am still Hers, blood and bone and breath.

I feel like I'm on the cusp of shaking the way I've felt for the past few months...just in time to go home and have all the sore spots poked at. I love that the universe has a sense of humor.

Solstice is the light at the end of the tunnel - the reminder that the dark time comes complete with an end. That imagery is my hope right now, and to quote the immortal Eric Clapton, lately I've been running on faith.
I'm working on a song for Solstice...and these lines really stood out to me as being really right where I am...or maybe where I want to be:

The days grow short, the nights grow long
The light returns, but now she's gone
And I could lose every breath of hope
But I am not alone

I feel like I'm dripping songs right now....I guess there are worse things I could be dripping.

I'm off soon to the wilds of Michigan for the holiday, where I anticipate a great deal of mixed feelings. Bring it on, I say! I hope, though, that all of you reading this have the happiest of holidays, and that the new year brings you all your hearts' desires!

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