Meaty Kaleidoscope

When her voice comes in… it is exquisite. I was smiling from ear to ear. Shaking my head in disbelief. What beauty. I kept me from falling asleep. Kept me able to take in what I was being shown. What I needed to know.

Delight in myself as some kind of goddess, with help whenever I had questions or wanted to see something to gain insight. Delight in the arrangement of color in my space. The beautiful uniqueness of my cave, the vessel of my vessel, my treehouse, my trees. The rainbow light and me, I am in it. I am a composer. I harmonize. I draw good things into arrangement with pleases many and creates very special environment.

(This Was Not Today, This Was The Past Week or Two): Today at work, a old man gave me his ID. I knew he was a cop, like, an old-school detective-type (interested how much I like them, this kind of cop…it’s a very specific type, a specific feel to them). I just said, “You look like a cop. In a good way.” (LOL omg in a good way???) He takes his ID, looks at it, and says, “I was a cop. Back in the day. In the 80’s. That was a long time ago. I’m retired now, but I ran a security firm for a long time…”. I would love to be able to hear some stories and maybe if he comes back someday, I’ll get to.

Sick with faux-covid: My 2nd vaccine really kicked my ass yesterday and this morning! Wow, horrible and strange, but short-lived. But so sweet, Adam tucked me in last night and asked if I’d like to fall asleep to something on the tv. I said yes. He asked what and I said, “you pick”, my eyes already closed. After a few beats of his perusing YouTube, he said, “how does ‘Am I Really Dead’ sound?” It sounds great, I laughed, eyes still closed. Sweetness and joy. lol. It’s sweet when people who love you get you. Best things in life.

The weather just became beautiful, and like last year, I was sitting outside a lot, painting words into water-warped pages. I sat on my balcony, breezy, oceanic-feels. Here it is, back again, full circle, except I feel safe and established here. The fear is gone. I’m well onto my newness and await fresh choices. This home of mine with the sliding door open and the wind coming in. Safety in being loved by Adam and Captain, then outward into the world, this weird-ass meaty-kaleidoscope of a world. Anyhoo, writing in watercolor paint. Sketching. Maybe getting my pictures printed and pasting them into the pages. Very collage. Much medium. I think using fine quality thick watercolor paper so things don’t warp so much (because I value my handiwork). I think I will take pictures of the finished pages and that’s what I’ll use this blog for, using much fewer words. I think I’m finding my pattern here to be a bit repetitious. A bit boring, to be honest with myself, it has felt that way for a while. I guess I need to go live a little and then report when I’ve got a new story.

Real & Useful

HolUp from HolUp

The wisdom of other people is real, and useful.

Maybe,I don’t paint so much anymore (I paint a little bit, but few and far between) because I don’t (or haven’t) quite known what the art was about for Me. Don’t understand the subject fully. Yet. At least I’m still curious – I have that going for me. ❤

Today was incredible. I hiked further than I have in a long time, going up the real mountain of Mt. Charleston. It was a bit chilly when we started. It was so beautiful. I went on a part of the trail I haven’t been to in a few years (god, time’s flying) and it was like seeing an old, wonderful time of your life, a great day from out of the past. I had many of those kinds of days where I inhaled pine trees and warm forest soil. The surprising beauty of the light. The incredibly deep blue skies that can only be seen with the naked, human eye. Air, sparkling, complimentary and welcoming. A desire to touch and be touched; being desirable to Mother nature herself. Wonderful things; magical stuff. We met and passed so many lovely people. I troop of young men from the boys’ home/reformatory. I smiled at every one of them, I smiled at them like I love their souls and see them for how special and amazing they are, because they are and I have the gift to see it. It is a great gift I have that I can share. I didn’t know it was a gift till (relatively) recently, but now I get it. I know it is true. I’m not the only one, of course. There’s no congratulation; there’s no “thanks”; but it is powerful and it is power. I can use this in my own way, filtered through my self and what aspect of the Other it is that I can see, and I can mirror that beautiful thing they, the Other One is/are, in-part, Being (seeing you recognize this fact through their own , incredible truths, they see themselves. And they love you, just LOVE you for it. That moment of give-give is exquisitely, humanly, spiritually, physically, what healing is all about. My kind of engagement. My kind of day.

Oh my god, I couldn’t believe the stone I found!!! It is black, it has a fucking perfect flower in the center of it; the flower is white, and the whole stone sparkles like the underside of roof tiles. AND THEN I found a fucking tiny house/building in the woods that is long abandoned. What it was used for, I have no idea. Adam was really tired (we went far and high) and needed to be done. so, I have to go back to this place – maybe tomorrow. I will be careful. It is located (soooooo strangely) right where I planned to go sometime, by myself, and do shrooms. (That’s definitley on the Bucket List. Also need to see stars. I don’t think I’ve every really seen stars. I’ve never seen the milky way – don’t really believe what is in pictures is real? I need to look into this. This is a weird problem to have, no)? Anyhow, this spot in the woods. I won’t even describe it because it is divinely hidden right in the middle of somewhere obvious, but its location is very unseen. it is a place exactly at the right angle to be totally inconspicuous to the casual traveller; but I am no casual traveller.

My house will never be in order. No peace shall ever last. It’s the thing of wisdom to accept it and understand that life does have guarantees: everything will end; nothing lasts; but that includes bad times coming ’round to good times. Experiences are worth recording so that they may be analyzed later for optional truths and re-experiencing laughs, etc.

This past Saturday I went for what’s probably the last time all 3 owls will be together in the Record Room. I admit, it feels…I have sorrow. Soon, things will change again. Things are changing now, actually. The momentum began last year for Cam to leave this city and start the last chapter of her life, taking Kenita on an adventure across the country. I’ve no doubt I will join them at some junction where we will lay on the earth in some dark wilderness and see the stars. Ha…wow, this is what they told me and I remember that just above – few days ago – I wrote about seeing stars being something on my own Bucket List. How wonderful to do it, to have it happen.

I hope that someday I can meet the children (all grown) of my friends, and I think that’s possible. Maybe as soon as this upcoming year or two.

Then, a Warm Winter

Initially, I feel nervous/afraid. I feel like I am about to sweat, yet I do not. i feel nausea creeping. A feeling of odd “adjustments” that are also nauseating seem to be going on in my face, neck, all over. Sometimes I feel something in my heart, but so far, no.

I feel emotionally now (like only a few minutes since the upper paragraph), like I am slightly more expanded. Like the room is more welcoming. Fearfulness is gone. I feel weighted more in my chair. My palms feel a wee bit moist (smirking at the word choice).

Ok, pausing a moment…4:52. Maybe at 4:30 I dropped these shrooshroos (sorry, I’m just disguising facts with coolness which is not necessary nor cool). Speaking of cool. I fucking LOVED Dolamite. Can you fucking dig it? i cannot believe I have never seen that film before. I could NOT believe it was…it was like it’s been KEPT FROM ME. This is a fucking CLASSIC. Pure. It is pure. Culturally significant.

Ok, 4:55, I feel larger changes. yes, larger is the way to describe. It’s like your …look, they said things like “your consciousness expanding” because that’s exactly what it feels like. You can take a nap on the soft green grass of yourself (if that’s the way it works out for you) see what I’m saying? They use/d those terms because it’s the closest.

However, I am an artist. It may be my duty/ability to describe the experience to those who either want to know what it’s like, or

ahh..4:57 there it is in my heart. Then in my face more. Body adjusting, see? Here comes the calmness. I’m going to take a moment and relax and enjoy it in a comfy seat. I’ll come back. ❤

5pm. The machines, the computer, seem really loud.

(turned it off, unnecesary. creepy. felt lonely and scared. turned it back on. Need my music).

Whilst opening my letter/card to myself from Maine.
Marilyn saw and described relationships to me this way exactly as illustrated in this animation. Just an interesting FYI aside from the music.

Ok, so once again, too much too much too much has gone on in this beautiful, healing evening. My oldening body is not done. simply a stage we (most of us/some of us?) go through yet through utterly unique (sometimes very very lonely feelings of going throughs on the goings do go). What I’m saying is this: I listened to a lot of totally new-to-me, new to the experience inside evening of (like this), etc. It’s exhausting and I do NOT have the patience to find better, more suitable phrasing. So, thusly so do I say:

I took some pictures. I found a missing earring – rather, it was revealed to me like a joke and a lesson about “all things in due time revealed”.

I am reminded that I shouldn’t bother searching for anything directly. it will be made available when it and I are ready. Everything works like that.

My letter-to-self was positively enchanting. Everyone should do it. My pictures having uploaded yet to dropbox, I guess.

Adam’s mom wants what all moms want for all their children: to have the happiest birthdays. To not feel so guilty. That their dads are stronger than they know and that they are being good sons. The ARE good sons.

That evenings spent with Smoekybeauty on my chest for a few minutes of communal love are very good. My old girl.

The music thing. I got a lot out of the music…my mind opened. I saw beautiful illustrations of my own making. Things unraveled and unfolded without prejudice or hesitation. Felt reunited with old feelings from childhood. Things adults call “hope” but are actually (within children/the lucky adults) just being connected genuinely to everything around you so much and so well that they naturally tie in to the Future.

I’ll update this with pictures once they arrive. (I did).

Oh, something interesting, at the beginning, kept seeing a baby, glowing with health and happy, young adult energy around it. That brought me to such Christmasy stuff/feels/colors/warmth/vitality. Snow and beautiful color. It makes me wonder if Andy, my brother is going to be a father again? Or a grandfather (omfg). I’ll let you know if anything comes of that…

The Christmas stuff was wonnnnnderful. This is what dreamstuff is made for. Memories that haven’t even happened but I know are and shall be beautiful, treasured memories. New stuff. Lots of newness…such a beautiful potential for Winter. Just…

There was an illustration of death being stopped and held by Winter. winter not being about death or nothingness at all (Fall is about Death I suppose, but in a nice way?). But a place where we sculpt our memories into beautiful meaningful stories, or a place to self-reflect on whatever and whoever and whenever we want. Winter is where ALL stories were honed by beautiful firelight. Where songs have always been perfected through love, attention, and repetition met with thoughtful refinement. There is no pressure from Winter. It is for us to sit and be quiet in, for just a few moments of (perhaps) some discomfort until the things just unfurl and, like a wing, stretch out for us. In Winter, there is plenty of space.

Tired. Time for some tea.

Wonderful visuals and musical accompaniment. Whelming.

Note to self: This is ‘Voice 005’.

Record Room II

My notebook and the James Eads Tarot deck.

House has a courtyard entry. Smells wonderfully of blooming jasmine. (Cam told me later – because I wanted to go back out and inhale it – that there is no jasmine anywhere around. I was also smelling fresh, hot tea (not black tea, more like some kind of jasmine-black tea mix. Hmm).

Uncomfortable and getting scared at beginning. The house felt different inside from last time, immediately. Even in the Record Room there was a strange and uncomfortable buzz, like you’d get in a florescent-lit room, which surprised and scared me. The Beatles was playing, and it gave me a kind of mental indigestion. I did not know where this would go, and I was worried about spending the next many hours here. New person on the couch (lovely, strong Michaela, whom I was now meeting for the first time). I also knew that a non-participating Leisha was coming to observe at some point eventually.

I got comfort and distraction things out of my army-green messenger bag: my little, square, blank, hardcover notebook – the one that says “the world is yours” on it that I use only for these times; my colored pencils and pens; my James Eads tarot deck; Mentos mint gum; and my phone to take pictures and/or video as needed.

And so we began.

Outside, hired workers are around but unseen doing landscaping. Summer buzzing noises and rustling of dry palm leaves. I’m in Cam’s backyard with Kenita – a pool, a wood patio cover, it looked well-used as a place to lounge, bake, and commune. The pool, the fences, the shimmer of deep heat and horizontal waves in layers that are freakishly electrical-feeling.

The doubling of things, like a clone stamp. The trees being the strangest green, looking like a painted picture. I’m not sure if it was all just heat waves, or if it was as spooky and wretched as it sure did look. I had to leave it. The traumatized little creatures from the noise and destruction of yard workers. (Thank god Kenita was with me. I JUST LOVE HER – she’s not just a comfort, but fucking wonderfully fun and funny. She is golden). All the comforts of a Mad Max car chase or something. Yikes-ing, we go back inside.

We went into Cam’s bedroom. Aged, sticky with countless Time brand cigarette smoke, wonderful objects full of love, history, and hand-me-down information are placed about. Ceramic siamese cats with shining blue-gem eyes, probably from the 40’s or 50’s. Photos of loved ones. The old, big, dark headboard with a hand-tinted portrait of Cam’s mama as a beautiful young woman once-upon-a-time in Oklahoma – fading from too much sun everywhere except the eyes. (Just beautiful, this is all just so precious to me). Lovely. Friendly lady who was glad I was there. In fact, she was beaming with interest and delight.

The PAINTINGS Cam’s mother painted. Gorgeous, antiqued-gold, substantial frames that Cam’s brother, Michael built. Dancers, scenes of stages and dancers. Foregrounds and backgrounds separate, like a true-life scene. Shimmering movement of bright bodies in the mystical, dreamy darkness of a stage. Yes, they somehow moved, and it somehow was like a glimpse into an alter-reality. It was so beautiful – I was enraptured. I could not believe what I was seeing. It was like witnessing true magic. Hope I get to see them again like that.

(I really want to know what it is like to paint while on. Will experiment. Need to be fully set up before I begin anything).

I feel Michael very much. Really like this guy. I like to think we became friends. He is kind to me, not out of pity, but out of his pure enjoyment of being together and sharing the time.

Later, “read for” Michaela. She was hugely helped. We all could not believe what was happening. It was so powerful. I believe she received exactly what she needed – and with so much love and hope and comfort that all was well and would be well. Deep connections between people that will never fade, that her children, wherever they were in the world would never be disconnected from her even if they paid her existence no mind. There was no cliff to jump off of. No decision had to be made that hadn’t already been made and she was RIGHT and FREE. I cannot go into details, they are too private/personal, but it was amazing and blew us all away.

Afterward, Michaela came to me and put $60 in my hand. I was so uncomfortable. First I said no, but she said “so this can continue”. So, I promised it would go toward the next session to help someone (and it did).

Who is to be helped next (It was Kenita’s son, with loads of advice from Uncle Jim who really enjoyed his smokes)? I’m anxiously awaiting to share this gift with someone who needs some healing, seriously, I can barely wait. Imagine you have a cure but you don’t know what it is for or who needs it. Must depend on the other powers-that-be to do their part. I don’t need to get anxious about it. It’s fun to be excited to do it again – to be excited about living LIFE again. Trusting that it WILL come my way is the hard part. (“The stream will take us home” Haeven – The Sea). Reasons to trust are being shown to me. I can trust “them”. I can trust THIS and because I’m honest about the whole thing, and open, I can trust my SELF. ❤