So far, two steller’s jay feathers at the new house.
H-, last week: I like this new house a little bit.
Me too, little kid.
everything i watched while The Tower card dismantled its last, and then thin fronds ached up though ash-new land.
Almost two months ago there was a two-week period of nothing; just metaphorically dotting & crossing the last marks in an afterword, and closing a back cover. Then, spreading open new, aspirin-white pages, watching everything remaining rush to arrange and take places, like a show about to start. One last thought of gratitude, and then surveying across the clear new, and nebulous.
That very quiet period was a strangely still pocket, not totally unlike just after H- was born, when feeding 5-6 times per day and through the middle of the night left me with a lot of time of just having to sit, and be. During that time I cranked through a ton of viewing and this time, albeit a smaller window, was the following…Read More »
every thing here
Weeks back, the osprey returned for a second year to the cell tower, viewable from the kitchen window. The nest is newly preened, the male flying low over, ripping branches and twigs, hauling them up and up for his mate to arrange, make. She beds the nest, awaits the chicks. And the river fish he brings to her, hooked on talons, dragged dripping, wiggling over our heads.
Last week, I found a fish on the lawn, dropped in the yard. It was fresh, silver scales, neatly pierced through like binder rings had impaled its back. The head was mostly eaten, but maybe distasteful and thus disposed of. That I found it before the ants was surprising. That I found it before Fred the dog, more surprising.
H- was shown and explained to about the talons, the head, the proximity to the nest. Now sometimes he will look up, cock his head and say: “…’member fish?”
Years ago I had wanted to plant something tall enough to obstruct the view of the cell tower. Now it’s valued, marking time by hosting a paramount symbol of seasonal change. There’s a lot that’s compelling about it, crowned with an immense nest, twigs and weavings sticking over in every direction, the contrast of it.
And later, in the late summer, the young will hop among the woven twigs, try out voicings, cry for days while the parents sit watchful in a nearby tree, coaxing them to hunt and fly by remaining away. And then they’ll all leave until spring again, when the mates return, embodying absolute fidelity and seamless harmony. The silence of the abandoned tower in the colder months entirely wipes clean the slate of previous seasons, like shaving too closely to the skin.
*
There’s been a bird feeder outside the kitchen window for years. Aside from winter, it rarely gets a visit and when it does, only from the sparrows. But suddenly it’s a sanctuary. The juncos chase away the song sparrows, the red winged blackbirds remove the house finches, the scrub jays flee the steller’s jay, and the single crow removes everyone…
Venus Rx + Merc Rx (+Jupiter Rx, Pluto Rx, and Saturn RX)
Part II: Regarding my last post, two friends asked: “…what are the traits of those retrogrades, how do they matter to me…?” I don’t know how much justice I can do to this topic, but here goes, K- & C-!
Constellations. Howardena Pindell, 2015.
(This is a LOT of words that only talk about astrology, current planetary aspects, and issues in astrology. I’ve peppered in pictures to try and cleanse the palate now and again.)
(she) bang(s) the drum
I went off about bees and pollinators… again. I feel like all of these quotes should wind up with me saying: “…and get off my lawn!”
It seems I said: “And finally,” twice… the ol’ bait & switch. You think I’m going to make my final point and then bam, one more point for your face! Thanks to Avital for… well… so much, but especially for including me here; really good company to be in.
written items
A day of: We-really-loved-these-poems-but-we-are-passing;-please-send-us-more-of-your-work-soon-though, rejections from much admired journals somehow feels like a win?Especially since all writing takes place usually pulled over on the road shoulder and tapping in Google Keep. If my earnest, (if inconsistent) efforts submitting work yield positive feedback instead of the standard: hey NO WAY, I have to find actual discipline around submitting, a process that for whatever reason feels akin to ripping off my skin in long strips.
There’s an old theologian whose name escapes me and he kept journals for decades and every year said the same thing: I’m focused on becoming more disciplined around my work and goals. I think of that a lot. And that guy probably wasn’t primary parent to a young child, a business owner, and managing being a woman in this eye-rollingly frustrating and threatening culture. So if he couldn’t even manage it and all he had to do was spend time contemplating God and faith, I’m going elect being kinder to myself and remain doing it as I’m able, with continuous intent to do more and better.
I feel a small internal thrill that the Richard poems are doing well for themselves and being understood. I was concerned they would be written off as poetic fan fiction (which, technically they are) and thus have sat on them, in some cases, for four years. But there’s a lot of them now and I so much want for them to become their own chapbook.
My goal this year was one complete manuscript (done), and a stretch goal of three manuscripts, the two others being chapbook sized. But the Richard poems need loads more work. About five are in really good shape. Eight are in the middle, and then it gets really rough. And, I don’t know when to stop writing them? The narrative is so loose I can justify a lot falling thematically in line. So I wonder if the device is just turning into a crutch and detracting from otherwise strong poems by utilizing the apostrophe? The one thing those poems do for me is generally force me to write succinct, one or two breath poems (on the side of the road), which is something my dearly loved Stephanie Adams-Santos has been urging me toward for a long while. I feel sorta nude without a lot of movements stringing.
I’ve been trying to write outside of the Richard poems and I have, but if I add: Richard, at the top, they all still work, just differently. Like, this I drafted last weekend (it’s rough, so, so rough)…
It works, in his one time paramour’s speaking voice that I’ve created,
but it also works this way, if very differently and with different implications.
So, idk. It’s very fitting if in Richard, I’ve created a monster that’s out of my control… sort of like the country did in his narrative, by sending him to war. JUST SAYING.
Muse / A Journal
You all should grab this. My fictive twin Richard and I are in really amazing company.
Thank you, Muse / A for taking a shine to some of the Richard poems. What a beautiful space for us to occupy.
crystalline green
A few friends recently asked how I’m using stones, so here you go, lovelies…
I’m not a pro over here. I don’t know how other people work with stones; I just follow my instincts. So here’s my system: each morning after I’m dressed and before I leave the house, I stand in the dark next to the china bowl in which they reside and hold up one at a time to my solar plexus. If my body leans forward (felt in the hips), I place it in a line to the right. If my body leans away, it goes into another line to the left, and if my body doesn’t move, the stone gets placed in a third line in the middle. (This process has gotten so there are also lines with more or less energies — body slightly leans away versus strongly away, hence the other two lines. Pardon wrinkly sheets.)
For this one (above and below on 2/9), when I had completed the process, I felt a little unclear so went back through the first two lines on the right to identify which were the very strongest and which wanted to be in combination with others. It turned out that the kunzite (light lilac shard) was the strongest. That went into my hand first. Then I went back through the other stones until I had a handful. This allows for combinations to meld and decide themselves.
Interpretations for each stone and how they conduct energy or what they can be used for can be found in books or online. I find these to be more or less useful, but I think it’s more important for a relationship to develop between stone and user. Some stones I can sense and feel really strongly, like aragonite, azurite, celestite, and moldavite (which I struggle to be in the same room with and it turns out this is fairly common) and others that feel muted and sort of blank to me.
But this one was a group that’s so much about softness, loving support, and grounding, with a bit of protection and bolstering faith. Emerald, morganite, kunzite, and carnelian (2 of them), along with rhodochrosite and amethyst. It’s one of the most love-oriented groupings I can see from my stones, sort of a love bomb. And that made sense. The 8th and 9th were good, but intense days of a lot of emotionally demarcating and moving forward. It was also the day after the anniversary of my cousin’s death; a perpetually tender spot on the calendar.
At the end of the identifying process, I turn on the light and gather all of the stones that my body leaned towards into a small fabric bag and into my pocket they go. This method allows the stones to choose themselves as energy to be of use that day, or what can aid or help; what I’m in need of. If a lot of the same stones popping up for days or weeks on end or the same color groups, that tells me that the corresponding energy center or theme needs significant attention or work (green = heart, blue = communication, etc.).
How woo is all of this? Partly to mid woo. Do I think stones are going to heal diseases? No. But I’ve always been more or less attuned to that which is numinous, especially when I was small. I find using stones sort of like: “Is a barometer going to change a weather pattern?” No. But it’s a useful tool. Ancestors have regularly appeared in my dreams, and my earliest memories in this life are my last ones from my most recent prior life. This was met in my family with eyerolls and minimization so I naturally learned to never speak of it. Then, giving birth heightened all of my senses. It overhauled my attunement, sorta like a low burner that was suddenly turned full up.
I think it stands to reason that as mothers gain heightened senses to protect and monitor their children — the heightened ability to smell, to detect illness or imbalance, and more sensitive hearing in order to hear your individual child’s cry and its meaning, all of the senses might become heightened.
This is about the extent of what I do with my stones. Sometimes I feel compelled to move one to a certain part of the house or I hold certain ones when I meditate, or sleep with some under my pillow. A lot of people program their stones, using specific intent to infuse each one, or grid them by using really elaborate patterns to concentrate one specific energy or intention. Perhaps at some point I will be drawn to that, but for now I’m content to skulk around gem shows, read, clean them under the full moon, and carry a pocketful each day. And, rocks and their formation are just pretty rad and fascinating.
Here is a stone pull from 2/4 that was a surprise. The night before I pulled these, in the place between awake and asleep, I was shown a roll of wide canary yellow satin ribbon, its spool encircling my spine. As I breathed in, the ribbon retracted, spooling back like it was coming back from far away. Only, it stopped at one point, caught on something far off. I tried to energetically yank it. I found a knot in it and untied it, but still it didn’t retract. I pulled these the next morning.
With the exception of the aragonite (sputniky one which H- picked out for me), smoky quartz heart, and the golden topaz (bright yellow one on left) these are rarely occurring for me. Because I pull these less and encounter them less, this one was harder to understand. In light of the yellow ribbon, what I gleaned from these is the renewed need for defined autonomy — I don’t take happily to my energy being caught elsewhere, especially when I haven’t mindfully given it. As autonomy and independence are generally strengths of mine, I realized it makes good sense that I rarely see yellow stones appearing, especially in any numbers. It’s not an area that generally needs bolstering.
The white (scolecite) and clear (apophyllite and silver topaz) suggest a self-sharpening; realigning intrinsic values and self integrity… sort of refocusing as well as redefining faith and connection (meditation, prayer, etc.). And also, reconstituting the fundamental, primary self. (I did a little meditation later to retrive the caught up ribbon.)
The bloodstone (green) was lending clarity – mental, emotional, and divine. It’s a stone that leaves me feeling not so alone in the world. It also lends balance and legibility to matters of the heart.
I hope this helps! xo
mars squares saturn / last quarter moon
amazonite, turquoise, serpentine, melanite garnet, rhodochrosite, carnelian, amethyst, lepidolite, aventurine
these pulls (not the right word but I don’t know what is) are increasingly salient & intricate; a whole precise language.
(holy moly the rhodochrosite have a lot to say… showing up almost daily since the new year.)
stone pull, 1/17/17.
serpentine, rhodochrosite, purple jade, petalite, carnelian, prehnite, morganite, aquamarine, golden topaz.
(edit edit: after cross-referencing and a lot more research, this sort of broad interpretation is correct, but obviously too simple. It’s like saying Shakespeare was prosodically gifted…
edit: this is urging the most care, connecting, tenderness, grounding, communication, and manifesting…)
1481hyperion 