From Suzan...

...a very dear connection.

Carry On!

You are more than the sum of your ancestors.

From your parents you inherited a biological legacy

and you received the invitation to be born.

To them you owe your life

and nothing more.

The rest is You.

You came here a soul fresh hot from the Heart of God,

rounded out by your own eternal mysteries.

You came here with your own innocence and wisdom,

your own capacity for compassion,

your own genius for being alive.

Over the course of your lifetime

you will be given countless opportunities

to discover and develop the sum of these gifts

to the best of your ability.

You must stay alert and be aware of these moments of Grace

when they come, sit down with them or run or fly with them

to fulfill your potential for Life and Completion.

Every day, you can be Gods dream coming true.

Your being becomes you, Dear One.

Carry on!

~ Alla Renée Bozarth ,Postcards from Paradise

Vashon Find

Pulled over to the side of the road at the address I thought an old friend might be and there, in all it's glory was this beauty...

Probably 3' high, made from a gazillion needles that had fallen to the ground. I wonder if the ants and the trees had a deal. And the life! There was no way to capture the magnificence of all this without a movie. If you make it bigger (right hand corner thingy) it's even more.

Home Sweet Home

Jean-Baptiste Monge. Another Etsy find.

Home. Definitely where the heart is.

7,342

Steps I've taken today. That's 3.7 miles and 470 calories. But who's counting. o.k. I am but really only care about the steps. That was over half my goal for the day and it's only noon!!

Journey to Hardwick's. Who knew I would need a heavy brass hammer. hmmm. I probably should have known but I was "speed" reading. Luckily there are delightful tutorial videos on youtube about any number of things. Disk cutting is one of them.

And then there is the stone collecting. A man walking his adorable terrier butch dog asked me how come I was carrying the rock. "Makes my walk more productive, don't you think?"

Roof Top Garden seen along the way. Really close to the U-District construction, which actually is about 60% of the U-District at this point, and I just appreciated the effort here.

Life Happens

Will go to Vashon on Thursday. Today I was obsessed with acquiring a metal disc cutter, some dapping tools, and a pair of tweezers with cupped ends. Actually got 2 of those. Different sizes. Took a long time because the traffic is beastly and it's 88° out there. Digression halt. Someday there will be handmade beads made from tin containers like those used for cookies, or lunch boxes, or love notes. This afternoon, though, I'm beginning a movie called "The Only Lovers Left Alive". Jarmucsh film, so of course it's crazed, but on top of that it's about Vampires and beyond even that! Tilda Swinton is in it. I'm just saying. I hope it's as good as I hope it will be. That's how we hope, we the Army of the Fantasy Hopefuls.

The camera work creates these stills that look like sepia prints and black and white photos. They are delicious in form, sensuality,

Another Day, Another Road Trip

Today is Vashon. There's land there but I'm not sure there's always water. There is 4 acres with a yurt. It's gorgeous. We'll see. In the meantime, or maybe the kindtime, here's some Patty.

Sense of Place

Sense of Place by Amanda Shelsher

Corny

The last of the cobs. Is that beautiful or what? The way climate change is going here in the Northwest I should be able to grow more than 4 ears pretty soon.  At least there is one good thing about that. Heh, maybe I'll eat corn by then. (I set some keys by the corn for size relationship)

Also got a bunch of potatoes and more cukes, yum, but failed to take pics. Took everything over to the house and Simon, Peter, and I ate cucumbers on the deck. Sweet.

Instructions For Living A Life

Been reading a lot of Mary Oliver lately. Can you tell?

The Poet Dreams Of The Mountain

Sometimes I grow weary of the days, with all their fits and starts.
I want to climb some old gray mountain, slowly, taking
the rest of my lifetime to do it, resting often, sleeping
under the pines or, above them, on the unclothed rocks.
I want to see how many stars are still in the sky
that we have smothered for years now, a century at least.
I want to look back at everything, forgiving it all,
and peaceful, knowing the last thing there is to know.
All that urgency! Not whatt the earth is about!
How silent the trees, their poetry being of themselves only.
I want to take slow steps, and think appropriate thoughts.
In ten thousand years, maybe, a piece of the mountain will fall.

                                                    Mary Oliver

Star Dust

This is a track in the gel where dust
impacted the gel at about 13,000 miles
per hour.

o.k. Here's a pretty cool thing. If you want, you can help scientists who sent up a probe to find interstellar dust. They sent up this gizmo with some light as air gel in a tennis racket kind of configuration, initially looking for comet particles, but they also turned it toward interstellar space to possibly find dust that came from beyond our solar system. Interestingly, they sent it up without really knowing how they would get the dust out of the gel once it came back (and how it came back and how they figured out how to get it out is a whole other story.). Interstellar dust is about a millionth of an inch. Pretty beensy. So one of the things they did to find it, and this is where you, the reader whoever you might be, come in. Stardust@home (click on it when you're ready) is a site where you can go help by watching little movies of tracks of particles in the gel!!! There's about 600 people, called "Dusters",  helping to find these little tracks to be able to study these little guys right here on earth. See? Pretty cool, eh?

A Couple Of Things

Nightimes, before I go to sleep, I try to remember to be thankful for all the blessings of my life. Along side of that I make an intention to become kinder in my life, be more compassionate. (I also ask for help from the vast Universe or whatever might be listening that might have that capability) Never one to remember that you should be careful about what you pray for, my beloved vastness took it upon herself to give me more opportunity to be kinder, gentler, more compassionate.

Patty Griffin. All ready to go to the concert here in October. Beyond excited with wings on my feet and a song in my heart. It seemed like a miracle that she would even be here and that I could afford the tickets for me and Bruce (another one of her fans). I was beyond grateful.

Sue, my dear sister, is really scared because she's having a procedure in September and I immediately decide that I want to be by her side. I've had similar experiences and since I think the last time I got to be there, in the flesh, for her was when her son David was born, many, many years ago. So I make reservations to fly to the Bay Area, make reservations for a car, and request schedule changes for work and all is set. We're ready to go.

Turn the page. My sister's appointment for her procedure was mistakenly set by a student at the dental school. The actual date is the day before the Patty concert in October. Grave disappointment. Shaking my fist at the vastness for such a joke and all of a sudden realizing the perfection of an answered request. The disappointment of missing the concert could never be as deep as the blow that I would inflict on myself if I were to not be there for Sue. Not even close. So this is when gratefulness has it's true meaning, it's most beautiful meaning. Without giving up the misfortune of not seeing Patty ( hell, I'll find another way to see her), without having to give up wincing at the reservation change charge, without having to suck it up in any way, I can have it all AND be kind, and compassionate, and grateful, immensely grateful, for the opportunity to learn with such clarity. These might be teachers 4, 5, and 6.

Life is breathtaking.

New Rumi Translations

My favorite Rumi translator has always been Coleman Barks. I love reading his thoughts about Rumi as well as his decoding of the poet. I've found another Rumi lover who does more of an urban type rendering. I'll share a couple here. His name is Daniel Ladinsky. These are from his book, The Purity of Desire.

In Places You Can't Reach

You might have noticed how animals may groom each other in places that they cannot reach on their own. That is what my poems are all about. What a deal!

Don't Tell Anyone About This

Once Shams gave me a very embarrassing hat to wear
and told me not to remove it unless he pulled it from
my head.

Further, he said if anyone inquired about it, I was to
act like it was the most chic attire around and never
mention him being the culprit of it's source.

You probably heard about that word "ego", and how it
roughs most up--keeps most fidgeting about all day
and obscures...the gods dancing.

But try this sometimes: if you aren't tough enough for
strange headgear, go somewhere where know one knows you,

dress like a bum, and don't bathe that day or comb your
hair. Walk around for hours muttering weird sounds;
become unseated from your norm. Though, don't go so
far a straight-jacket comes to hug you.

You have probably been glued too long to the same spot,
where light from another dimension cannot warm your
face.

There is a treasure map here for the clear-thinking mind,
and the brave.

Lovers Touching

To my eyes, lovers touching are folded wings
In a beautiful prayer.

But yes, what height and great expanse one
can also reach

when tenderness is placed upon the bow and
our spirits know no gravity.

Oh Wow

A tiny dome home in Thailand. Exquisite.

Dear Miss Bacall

88 and according to her son, a magical life. Farewell, gorgeous. See you the next time around.

James More

James was across the street at the Fred Meyer when I went to get a soldering iron. I couldn't help but ride Lorca over and ask, "where ya goin". He just got into town from Port Angeles and proceeded to tell me the tale. Made me smile. Then he told me about his book, Raise the Flag: Lean Thy Arms. He reminded me that there must be a hundred different Raise the Flag books. Lean My Arms means like leaning your head on your arms while your dad tells you stories about his life. I think I'll buy the book. Pretty sure it's his only means of support and he's definitely a teacher.

Along The Way

Along the way to my studio we had wonderful distraction.

Also, somewhere along the way... of my life, I learned how to be afraid. I learned to play it safe in so many ways. Not all ways I suppose. For instance, today I'm heading out to the studio and I'm going to drive. I've even made it out the front door but this nagging something kept me from shutting it. All I needed to do was put my pack on my back, fill the water bottle, pedal down to the Burke, and explore and discover and, and, and, I just felt this fear. What the hell was I afraid of? That I couldn't do it? That I would get lost? That I would fall? I had no idea. What I did know was this, the fear made a simple bicycle ride a huge risk and that I had to dare greatly. If I didn't take the risk, I would create more fear.

So here I am, sitting in my studio chronicalling about the risk I took and the success I had. I feel calm, teary, alive, and great solitude. Now maybe I can get some work done here. Maybe. There has been a great deal of creative and philosophical procrastination composting in my artistic world. Today is no different. As I'm on the canal, the seagull song grabs my attention continuously and I drift off into the world of the places I could retire and the land I could live on, land by the ocean or large body of some kind of water. Ah well. Sometimes it seems like there's supposed to be some kind of urgency about doin' stuff in my life.  Today, my life seems to be fine just meandering along.

Yet Another Story People

Anke Merzbach

Teacher Three

I don't even know her name. She knows mine. It's on my name tag. I've seen hers on the business card she gave to me once. I more often remember faces. Not names. She was hoping I could help with some networking she was doing around meditation and birth. She's a Yoga teacher, a mom, a wife, a wonder. Last year she went into remission with breast cancer. I remember her shiny head under the black and white bandanna with the pirate flag motif (that part might have been in a dream) and her loving smile. A grin, really. One that drew your gaze to her eyes. Eyes that always held your own with tenderness. Two days ago she's walking down aisle 5 wearing shades and we smiled at each other as we met in the middle. "You're sort of movie star in those dark glasses. How're you doing?" She shrugged. Right then and there I knew there was news of her journey. "It's back", she said. "And so how're you doing?" Looking down to the ground and then back into my eyes she reassured me, "I'm ok. But today my husband is kinda wonky." She shrugged again. Smiled again. We hugged. We talked about medicinal mushrooms and how kids make the world brighter. We hugged again. Then we continued, each in our own direction, down aisle 5.

Mork

Romantic that I am, What Dreams May Come, is one of my favorite movies. Robin Williams wasn't as funny in this one as he was in so many others, like Mork and Mindy, but he loved with great inspiration. Thanks Robin Williams for all the joy and tears you helped to create.

Particle Fever

Almost 1 a.m. and I have to sleep. Pause the movie with anticipation for starting it up again. The story of the largest machine ever built by humans to create an experiment to either validate or refute physicist theories on the creation of the universe and what holds matter together. Breathtaking. All of it. The machine, the minds, the questions, the possible answers, the passion. The internet was created during the beginnings of this so that thousands of computers all over the world could analyze the data from the collision.

My mind is expanded and imploded simultaneously. I have no more words. The words of  theorist Savas Dimopoulos, "jumping from one failure to another with undiminished enthusiasm, is the big secret of success."

Sculpture outside of the facility at Cern

Full Flower Moon

I did not get pictures. It was the awe. She was so close I just sat and touched her with my eyes.

Teacher Two

Lorca. We took an empty basket to the Green Lake Village store and filled it up with about 30 lbs. of goodness and headed to Greenlake. Extra totage made for extra inside smiles and all the while Lorca reminded me that my own speed was just perfect. She cruised gracefully among the children, walkers, skaters, dancers, lovers and she reminds me that we are all beautiful just as we are.

Teacher One

My wage work is also my heart work, another fork of my practice in the world, a sacred teacher of how we are all connected, of who I am, of how to see and listen and  learn more deeply the blessing of kindness.

Teacher One

The tall, thin woman in her sleeveless shirt and her honey colored and perfectly perfect salon hair, deciding to become a vegetarian. Adamantly NOT a vegan, but she read somewhere that if she doesn't eat meat she needs to supplement with B12. I did, of course, show her my favorite supplement and give the list of B12 foods but what seemed more important was listening to her comment about a birthday coming up, the sigh before talking about an aging parent, and the beat of her heart against the fears that moved her and the strength that holds her up.

Today

1. Gentle morning.
2.  Hemp Latte. 
3. Acupuncture Love. 
4. Book Store. 
5. Oliver. 
6. Rumi. 
7. Lorca, 
8. Rilke. 
9. Thoreau.
10. Water Balloons.
11. Cucumber Harvest.
12. Son.

Time didn't stroll, or race, or meander. Even the word Time seems not tethered to the reality of it's presence as the Creator of the buoyancy the day carried me upon.

Bike Map

Just found the coolest thing... an interactive Seattle bicycle map.  It even has a distance finder where you can draw a line on your route and find out exactly how many miles. Seriously kick ass.    Click Here.

And while I was searching I also found an inner city trail called Chief Sealth Trail, that runs almost 4 miles through the south end, made entirely of recycled earth from the Light Rail project. Simply wonderful. Lorca and I will explore:

Plan A. tomorrow before my glorious, loving, generous, and blessed acupuncture appointment!!
Plan B. as soon as it's not too hot! (which could be this afternoon after laundry and cave cleaning.)
Plan C. forget the heat and don't even think about heat stroke!

And because I seem to always have a pic or a song on a post, here you go, whomever you may be.  This one from the Noisettes. Love this song and the singer, oh yeah. In the song, those silver boots belong to the guy with the sports car's girlfriend.  wink wink nudge nudge.

Ellen - 1986

Ellen's first national t.v. spot on the Johnny Carson show in 1986. It's cool seeing glimpses of who she is today.