Today is the 6th of the month- Aphrodite day. Each 6th of each month, I do something to honor her. I have it set to remind me in my phone calendar in case I forget or get distracted with my busy life.
Today, I forgot it was Aphrodite day. Usually the alarm goes off in the morning, but nothing today. I jumped in to my day and it was all blast-off.
This evening, I was on the phone with my mother. She told me this story about my grandmother. We are all in love with the Virgin Mary in my family. I love her as Black Madonna/Stella Maris/Kuan Yin/Aphrodite- they all run along the same or similar channels for me.
My grandmother had a terrible series of surgeries that were very painful. She was just beginning to recover when she had a stroke, then another. She went to the doctor and he told her she would need yet another surgery- a dangerous one. She was afraid, but said, "Thy will be done" and went along with it. Before she went in to the surgery, she asked the doctor how long her recovery would be and when she could go home. He looked at her, sized up her voluminous glittering jewelry and stylish hat and said, "You can go home when you're able to put your lipstick on again."
The day of the surgery came and she went in, went under, had the surgery. She was in recovery and the nurse sent my anxious mother to her own room to sleep and wait for my grandmother to wake up. About a half hour later the phone rang- the nurse called my mom. "We're losing her, her blood pressure is dropping rapidly and she isn't responding. You'd better come now."
My mom rushed back over there and the nurse said, "We've sent for the doctor. I'm going to consult with him. Go in there, hold her hand, talk to her, try to get her to wake up. She is slipping away. Try to connect with her and see if you can get her to wake up." My mom sat there, rubbing Memere's hand, saying, "Mom, you've got to stay with me. Come on, Mom, wake up. Come on." The machine was beeping, it was horribly scary. Then, all of a sudden, my mom saw Memere's eyes flutter a bit. My mom said, "Hey Mom, wake up! Come on!" All of a sudden, she heard my grandmother's voice, her lips barely moved, "GET ME MY LIPSTICK." By the time the doctor arrived, she was getting better, more stable, and the doctor had to renegotiate his deal.
This is where I come from, "They will be done," and "Get me my lipstick."
Memere, I miss you today, unbelievably. As my mom was telling me the story, I started to think that I ought to do a candle to Aphrodite in honor of my grandmother. She was so beautiful, and very glamorous.
Just as my mom concluded the story, my phone beeped and flashed at me: "Aphrodite day."
Dressing my candle with tears tonight.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Oh, poor blog...
My poor blog- you have fallen prey to Twitter.
Twitter is so seductive, with its brief, encapsulated, easy-on-the-go update capabilities. Who takes the time to sit down and write anymore, now that Twitter and Facebook allow us all to be in the know in 116 characters or fewer?
But it IS important to write things down. I know this. I am an avid reader of print books. Someone took the time to write all of that down.
And I want to write a book desperately. I've built it up so much in my mind that I am terrified of the process.
But I'm thinking of doing nanowrimo this year and getting it off my chest. But what do I need to get off my chest? Hmmmm...
Twitter is so seductive, with its brief, encapsulated, easy-on-the-go update capabilities. Who takes the time to sit down and write anymore, now that Twitter and Facebook allow us all to be in the know in 116 characters or fewer?
But it IS important to write things down. I know this. I am an avid reader of print books. Someone took the time to write all of that down.
And I want to write a book desperately. I've built it up so much in my mind that I am terrified of the process.
But I'm thinking of doing nanowrimo this year and getting it off my chest. But what do I need to get off my chest? Hmmmm...
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Waking the Dead
We are going to see the living Dead tomorrow night. I can hardly believe it. It has been 14 years since Jerry died. I was in the car on the way to Toronto with my boyfriend Eli and my Dad. We were on the Skyway, high above the city. We were on our way to see Miss Saigon. The news came on the radio and I was really so sad. I had planned to either go to grad school or else go to beauty school, become a hairdresser, save up money, and follow the Dead. Those were my two favorite choices. I figured following the Dead would be the way I got to California - a longtime dream at that point already. When Jerry died, my choice was made and I ended up going to grad school in 97.
I haven't seen a Dead show since then. There were some "Other Ones" shows and Phil shows and Bobby shows and everything else, but I just missed Jerry. I went to one Phish show once, but it wasn't the same. Everyone told me it wouldn't be the same, but I just wanted to find something like the vibe of a Dead show so much that I went anyway. Not the same.
There is something about going to a Dead show. I used to go back East all the time. They are really special. At its height, it was a traveling utopia in many ways. My first show was such a memorable event. A woman came up to me, tripping her head off, and handed me a piece of paper that said, 'I have more memories than if I were a thousand years old." I bartered a pair of earrings I had made for a purple witch hat. I got separated from my friends and had an amazing adventure. I was wandering in through the gate and a guy came up to me and said, "Hey, want to get up?" and gestured to the port-o-potties. I climbed up and had the best view of the show for miles. At the end of the show, I was wondering how I'd get down and he re-appeared. "Want to get down?" he asked. He helped me jump down, grabbed my hand and we somehow, as if by magic, zoomed through this loooong line of people waiting to get out. Once outside, he let go my hand and disappeared. I was nervous for a minute that I wouldn't find my friends, but then saw that he had mysteriously deposited me right in front of their car in the parking lot. They came along and we all went home.
Another time, I went to a show and we ended up meeting these funny people who had a HUGE, FULL 5 pound bag of animal crackers. That's a lot of crackers. We ate some, then eventually we gave them away to these other people and forgot about them. At the end of the show we were leaving and we passed this car of people who were sitting on the tailgate, eating the last of the almost-empty bag of animal crackers.
Dead shows are full of trickster energy and good old bearded man vibes and general rabbity-ness in a lot of ways. The lifestyle on the road, the clothes, the nature, the freedom, the music of course. The people. I have a hundred other stories about Dead shows. Magical happenings, miracle tickets, interdependent co-arising of perfect moments in complete synchronicity. I mean, hey- they worked for something like 40 years to build that kind of vibe.
It's just my favorite vibe I have ever met on the planet yet. I think I will have it again tomorrow night. I think it has been long enough. And I feel Jerry will be there- this is his home turf.
Here, have some more. It's good for you:
I haven't seen a Dead show since then. There were some "Other Ones" shows and Phil shows and Bobby shows and everything else, but I just missed Jerry. I went to one Phish show once, but it wasn't the same. Everyone told me it wouldn't be the same, but I just wanted to find something like the vibe of a Dead show so much that I went anyway. Not the same.
There is something about going to a Dead show. I used to go back East all the time. They are really special. At its height, it was a traveling utopia in many ways. My first show was such a memorable event. A woman came up to me, tripping her head off, and handed me a piece of paper that said, 'I have more memories than if I were a thousand years old." I bartered a pair of earrings I had made for a purple witch hat. I got separated from my friends and had an amazing adventure. I was wandering in through the gate and a guy came up to me and said, "Hey, want to get up?" and gestured to the port-o-potties. I climbed up and had the best view of the show for miles. At the end of the show, I was wondering how I'd get down and he re-appeared. "Want to get down?" he asked. He helped me jump down, grabbed my hand and we somehow, as if by magic, zoomed through this loooong line of people waiting to get out. Once outside, he let go my hand and disappeared. I was nervous for a minute that I wouldn't find my friends, but then saw that he had mysteriously deposited me right in front of their car in the parking lot. They came along and we all went home.
Another time, I went to a show and we ended up meeting these funny people who had a HUGE, FULL 5 pound bag of animal crackers. That's a lot of crackers. We ate some, then eventually we gave them away to these other people and forgot about them. At the end of the show we were leaving and we passed this car of people who were sitting on the tailgate, eating the last of the almost-empty bag of animal crackers.
Dead shows are full of trickster energy and good old bearded man vibes and general rabbity-ness in a lot of ways. The lifestyle on the road, the clothes, the nature, the freedom, the music of course. The people. I have a hundred other stories about Dead shows. Magical happenings, miracle tickets, interdependent co-arising of perfect moments in complete synchronicity. I mean, hey- they worked for something like 40 years to build that kind of vibe.
It's just my favorite vibe I have ever met on the planet yet. I think I will have it again tomorrow night. I think it has been long enough. And I feel Jerry will be there- this is his home turf.
Here, have some more. It's good for you:
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Psycho Donuts
This past weekend, Ninette and I went down to Campbell to visit with Aisling and Thorn. This was the (finally!) actualization of the oft-discussed and well-planned double date we've been stabbing at for months now. It's difficult when we live farther apart and are all busy with various activities, so we picked a date a loooong time ago and decided to make a day of it.
We arrived at Chez Stregani at about 1:30 PM, a full hour-and-a-half late, but it was OK- we were all on "weekend time." We had a great day filled with sunshine and good pineapple agua fresca and the yard and the animals and...all of it. Great day, great dinner. Aisling gave us massages in trade for readings and art, and she is really, really good at it. A very gifted and intuitive healer. I was really relieved after a month-long stiff neck to be able to turn my head. Aahhhh!
So, while Ninette was getting her massage, I was hanging out with Thorn and Alex, Thorn and Angie's son. He mentioned something about "Psycho Donuts" and my ears perked up. What the heck was this new devilry? He said, "They're a donut shop 2 blocks away. I think they're still open." Well, I absolutely had to see this, so off we all went to the donut shop.
It's a really funny, funky place. They have a padded cell, though it was closed for the day. They have a clever trash can with a Bates Motel sign above it. Their donut flavors are things like, "Massive Head Trauma," a jelly donut with X's for eyes and a big gash so the filling is spilling out the head. Good and horrible. I liked it. The piece de resistance was when I stepped up to the counter and they handed me a tiny square of bubble wrap to pop before my order. Just in case I was about to blow a gasket or something? It was a nice touch. I caught a candid of Thorn in the "Psycho of the Month" mirror, and Alex and I cracked up about it. Jordan, the owner of the joint, was really accommodating, even showing me his Psycho Donuts tee shirt. It was a funny, offbeat little adventure in the middle of the day's activities. Great donuts, too. I ate one this evening and almost died of sugar, but what a way to go...
If you find yourself in Campbell, go check it out. All relevant info may be found here:
http://www.psycho-donuts.com/
Monday, April 20, 2009
Cute bread
My friend Pixie gave me this Rabbit-shaped bread. I thought it was cute, so I took a picture of it. That is all :)
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Oh, Mexico
Today I REALLY was thinking about Mexico a lot. I wanted to report about it here. I guess this is the best way to do it:
Flight at 6 AM had to be a Hummingbird's at 4:30 got there at 5 made the flight anyway got picked up visited Carly (THANK YOU CARLY) stopped off at Jodi's house in Phoenix to pick all the herbs in her garden before we headed down the long, dusty road to Mexico.
Made it across the border without incident. Paseo. Cracked beers.
Hit the beach house at dusk, watched the sun go down across the Sonoran desert. Rested that night. Woke up early the next day.
Fill in three days of drinking beer, tequila, eating homemade everything, resting. I made a road trip into town with Rex to do errands, but mostly just sat around reading the mythology encyclopedia on the rooftop deck overlooking the sea. Got pounded by waves. Had a blast with Jodi, who always has such insight to share.
Every day, standing at the water's edge:
Aphrodite of the sea
friend of dove and sacred bee
queen of sensuality
lay your blessing upon me
that I may walk in love and beauty.
sang to Yemaya also.
Friday we went into town. The Malacon. Mary's shrimp shack, except now it's remodeled and deluxe. Gentrification is happening, but Mary is making more money, so that's a good thing. And she has margaritas again. Last year she didn't. They are great margaritas, naturally.
We walked through the street and these two Yaqui Shamans wearing masks and bamboo belts, carrying drums, were dancing in the street. They do this in the weeks leading up to Semana Santa, Holy Week. It is some kind of syncretization of their beliefs and Xianity. They do not speak, only dance and drum. You give them donations and they drum and rattle on your behalf. So we all gave them some money and they danced and drummed. Then they went on their way. Hummingbird encountered them again, and then we all did. The second time we encountered them, they came right up to us, took off their belts and wrapped them 'round our waists. Then they drummed and we danced. At the end, they hugged us. The one who hugged me whispered very, very quietly, "Belina, belina." Hummingbird said that means "pretty." There is video and once Otter uploads it I'll include it in this post.
Saturday we went down and bade farewell to the sea. Then Rex drove us back across the border and up to Phoenix, where we flew out. Drove home and dropped into bed.
I am so grateful for this annual pilgrimage.
Flight at 6 AM had to be a Hummingbird's at 4:30 got there at 5 made the flight anyway got picked up visited Carly (THANK YOU CARLY) stopped off at Jodi's house in Phoenix to pick all the herbs in her garden before we headed down the long, dusty road to Mexico.
Made it across the border without incident. Paseo. Cracked beers.
Hit the beach house at dusk, watched the sun go down across the Sonoran desert. Rested that night. Woke up early the next day.
Fill in three days of drinking beer, tequila, eating homemade everything, resting. I made a road trip into town with Rex to do errands, but mostly just sat around reading the mythology encyclopedia on the rooftop deck overlooking the sea. Got pounded by waves. Had a blast with Jodi, who always has such insight to share.
Every day, standing at the water's edge:
Aphrodite of the sea
friend of dove and sacred bee
queen of sensuality
lay your blessing upon me
that I may walk in love and beauty.
sang to Yemaya also.
Friday we went into town. The Malacon. Mary's shrimp shack, except now it's remodeled and deluxe. Gentrification is happening, but Mary is making more money, so that's a good thing. And she has margaritas again. Last year she didn't. They are great margaritas, naturally.
We walked through the street and these two Yaqui Shamans wearing masks and bamboo belts, carrying drums, were dancing in the street. They do this in the weeks leading up to Semana Santa, Holy Week. It is some kind of syncretization of their beliefs and Xianity. They do not speak, only dance and drum. You give them donations and they drum and rattle on your behalf. So we all gave them some money and they danced and drummed. Then they went on their way. Hummingbird encountered them again, and then we all did. The second time we encountered them, they came right up to us, took off their belts and wrapped them 'round our waists. Then they drummed and we danced. At the end, they hugged us. The one who hugged me whispered very, very quietly, "Belina, belina." Hummingbird said that means "pretty." There is video and once Otter uploads it I'll include it in this post.
Saturday we went down and bade farewell to the sea. Then Rex drove us back across the border and up to Phoenix, where we flew out. Drove home and dropped into bed.
I am so grateful for this annual pilgrimage.
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