This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Verdant

Time seems to fall through my fingers though I know it is time I would not count by. Time for me would be marked by sunsets and twilights, by moon phases and wind shiftings. Machiavellian time. Time marked by cups of coffee offered to friends.

When running to other clocks we become caricatures. I am white rabbits and date books. Patience becomes the golden rule because I cannot have what I want. Now is not my time now.

What I am here to do is reach for my ideals. I am here to prove to random chance that I will live to be old. I am here to prove to time that it cannot take away my dreams, so humble. A garden of native plants, edibles, faerie attracting flowers to laugh with. A compost for worms to feed on. A place of beauty where sun dapples and wind hushes over me. There are cabins. They live in my memory. They live in my future.

Time seems to fall through my fingers, though I know it is time I do not count by. I mark time by eggshells, red winged black birds, seeds unfurling. Time in these clocks are made of machines. My fingers are made of my dreams.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Quickie

I was in Toronto from Thursday to Monday and now the sweetie is here in Chicago until Thursday.

I'm healing well from my bike accident. Scabs are SO itchy!!!

There's is much afoot. I'm just allfeet I guess...

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Met Asphalt with "Forcible Impact"

I crashed my bike at approx. 8:15 Wednesday night. The crash was bad enough to cause scary visual flash-backs to the trauma of 'going down' and also to keep me in the hospital for 48 hours.

I didn't have on a helmet. Not because I'm too cool, but because I was too cheap to buy one and too cocky to believe I really needed one. Erroneous thinking corrected.
I have this bad habit of needing to learn the hard way. I'm lucky because I did not crack my head open. I did crack my liver though. I'm lucky because I did not crack the case that my liver apparently lives in. This case and its enduring strength kept my liver (Sublime source of all oxygenated blood) from hemorrhaging.

The damage of the bike crash at this juncture seems to be:
5 giant purple/blue/green/yellow bruises on my legs.
Here's one, with Willow, the most recent and cuddly addition to my household




1 damaged right hand. It's yellow/green and chock full of deep road rash on the back. Here's a picture of it from the hospital on Friday. It's pretty gnarly in person.





Lots of little puncture sites on my forearms from all the blood they drew to make sure my liver didn't/wasn't/hadn't hemorrhaged, all encircled by bruises - making them resemble nebulae in my imagination.

Road rash and a shiner on my right eye/bridge of my nose. This is probably my "favorite" injury from the accident. Makes me look super hard core. Everything is changing color as it heals now.




I was in the awful hospital for 48 hours with my cell phone. Of course I took pictures. IVs hurt




And 1 cracked liver which will have to heal itself. I'm going to dig through my natural medicines books today and tomorrow to see about liver support. If any shamans or wise women/men reading have insight or suggestion please comment or email them to me.

I am rubbing arnica cream on the bruises a few times a day and trying to keep all the lacerations on my hands/arms/face wet with neosporine.

I don't know how my bike looks yet. I went down with incredible fortune in front of a Doctor and a back-up EMT. They both saw it happen, stopped their cars and traffic and came to my rescue. They called the ambulance, made sure my brain wasn't damaged, reassured me and called my parents. The doctor took my bike home with her and is going to drop it off today. She said it's not ride-able. I will take the 6 weeks in which I'm forbidden to ride my bike as an opportunity to go to the women's bike workshops around the city finally, learn how to fix my trusty steed and meet other bike oriented ladies.

Thank Goddess I have insurance right now. Holy hell...

Being in the hospital is an awful thing. Hospitals are terrible. Everyone says and knows this, but to experience it makes it clearer. My blood pressure was through the roof when I was in the ER taped to a wooden slab on the gurney, trapped in a monstrous head brace that was causing more pain than any sustained injury. I was shaking and crying and knew that the immediate solution to all my troubles was human touch. Finally my Mom, Aunt and Friend Amanda showed up and I ordered them to put their hands on me immediately. They chuckled, not quite understanding the truth behind my request, but immediately obliged and with much love.

I stopped crying and shaking, my Aunt said my BP dropped like 40 points in a few minutes.

My mom had her clown nose in her purse from when we saw Patch Adams speak last month.

The title of this post comes from the police report. I'll write on the lessons learned another time.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Is this like "Sour Hamburgers"?

Mother's Day.
I'm having an ee cummings moment.

I'm laughing like a buddha right now. My belly is that big, too.
I ate a gigantic hamburger (It was SO good) and had a beer for lunch. Mom likes burgers.

I truly enjoy my Mother.
I love her, but my least favorite habits manifest when I'm with her. I overeat, over spend, get irritable. I know it's not her fault. My actions can not be someone else's fault.

Right now, I'm happy. I'm happy for many reasons; one is noticing that I tend resort to "bad" habits when with Mom.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

Flat City Cliffs

The Taurus in me is feeding. She is a happy bull. I love my contradictions. I walk around and catch phrases in my mind. Pin Ups and Cross Dressers. Hushed like a Stream. That's how I feel today. I feel constant, flowing, strong, glittering. I feel myself passing over rocks that I have smoothed with constancy and patience.
The Taurus in me is pawing at the grass. We are ready to slowly beeline toward the goals. We are learning to do things as we want them done and to walk away if we're not being listened to.
I scan the brick for graffiti daily. I had the pleasure of being on a bus that was held up by an "Ontario North" freight train today. Every car was tagged and it made me so happy. I keep stumbling upon the simplest answers to conundrums that have followed me all over Chicago.
When I moved to the UP for college I was afraid of the hiking at first. My friend would take me out to river gorges and rock cliffs. We would get so high, so high as only a young pot head could and then climb up up up to the tops of the gorges. We would ignore the trails and walk 50 degree inclines. I would freeze up often, wrapped around a sapling praying not to slip and get hurt or die. On the half mile break wall, all boulders and concrete blocks, I froze up for nearly 10 minutes.
Graffiti might be my city cliffs. Posting de-constructing snarky responses to normative, sickly sweet advertising is scary. I might freeze up. I might get hurt. But I also might just burst into bloom and commune with worlds I didn't know existed until I prowled their nights.
What would I be accomplishing? I would be spreading the word; the ideas that so many of us have; rejecting materialism and status-quo. I would be giving life to a part of me that's felt betrayed by the paths I've chosen since coming here. I would be loving a part of me that happily persists in existence, no matter how little light I allow it.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Epic Cunts

I love reading the Overeducated Nympho. She is smart, sexy and uses phrases like "more hair on his kiwis". She fucking rules.

I'm learning to be nicer to myself. One thing I've noticed is that I can accomplish anything I want to accomplish, but I often don't because I think it should take less time than it is taking me. This month is a good month to relearn the "slow and steady wins the race" moral. I could lapse into habitual comparisons of myself to herself. But I will consciously avoid that, knowing it will only ruin my perfectly nice night and discourage me. She may be a great many things I am not. I may be many things she isn't. Somethings we do have in common will stand though and I can use that knowledge to propel me rather than drown myself in comparisons of perceived success and longer legs.

We have epic cunts in common. We use our cunt power for good and not evil. We use our cunt love for fun and not harm. We will both grow up to be goddesses.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Us Women

Spring finally. Ah, happy sigh.
Had a weekend of wanting to cultivate my heart openness. Fire. Power. I meditate and try watching shadows of fear as they cast over my desires.

The kind of woman I want to be stands tall with squared shoulders, unburdened by the stress of betraying monotony.
The kind of woman I want to be is dressed in pin-up clothes, greaser overalls, stylized sexualities of many eras.
The kind of woman I want to be is all hips, ass, cunt, tits and not an ounce of fear. The kind of woman I want to be says "No." and doesn't feel compelled to say why. She doesn't raise her eyebrows to soften things, she doesn't raise her voice when she is not asking a question.

I am strong.
Free.
The kind of woman I want to be.

Healthy Delight

Alright, so I'm 8 days in. I'm doing really well, eating lots of yummy veggies, fruits, nuts, seeds and concoctions I invent. For example, on Saturday I discovered the best tasting baked sweet potato recipe ever!

1 medium sweet, washed & diced
1-2 tsps olive oil (eyeball it)
to taste:
ground cardamom
ground coriander
salt & pepper
and dashes of cinnamon and garlic powder

1. coat sweet potato in olive oil and spread on cookie sheet.
bake at 425 for 15 minutes, sprinkle cardamom over potato, return to oven
2. bake for another 10 - 15 minutes, or until fork tender
remove from oven, place potato in bowl, mash pieces with fork
sprinkle coriander, s & p, cinnamon, garlic over top and mash up more together.

Taste bud delight! And totally good for you!
Another great one I discovered was an addition to a recipe in my detox "manual". The original recipe was Cabbage Salad, I made it zing!

Cabbage Salad:
1 sm red cabbage - sliced
3 granny smith apples - diced
olive oil
vinegar (I used apple vinegar)
healthy dash of garlic powder
tsp of lemon juice
1/2 cup chopped pecans
mix all ingredients together and let sit for at least an hour.

After a few days the bitterness of the cabbage became over-whelming and seemed like a dressing was needed. SO I put my genius hat on!
Dijon Zing!
1/2 bottle left over Sierra Nevada Stout stone ground Dijon mustard
1 tsp olive oil
1 tbsp apple vinegar
Mix it up real well and pour over salad.

Delish!!!