I remember how hot that day was in Veneta, Oregon.
take me to the sun
pregnant with fabrics.
HAND MADE.
this is what I look like lately.
Everything is rose colored. Warm glow. Jasmine hued. emotional. swollen. sex.
my hair is getting really curly because its getting warmer and there is more humidity.
FLANNEL PLACENTA.
mangel wurzel. onion skin.patchouli.musty. moldy. dirty. stove top.
rose. hair. wood. sounds. sad. happy.
my best friend is on the other side of the world.
this is how I really feel.
OLD HOME
traveling dreams of old cities. port towns. hands.
my new tail that is to weave my tale.
melanies french tail to aide her tale.
This is my new favorite hat and project
a Q is like a bead, an egg.
textures and colors and smells and sounds and sights are becoming more important than ever during this time
serendiptitittitititi
more fabric.
this girl
Joni Mitchell day 2013... COZY.
the boys zone
ginko, elder flower, reishi, st johns wort, angelica day 2013. HERBALISM. plant teachings. heart callings.
HEART ORGAN
fertile tides
dolphin dreams
LOTS OF SPIRITS, GHOSTS, AND MORTALITY.
FULL MOONS.
the tropical sun burn longing begins showing up in my photographs around now...
this reminds me of that scene in Harriet the Spy when they become potion masters in the wind chime garden that I want to always be in.
patterns are beginning to unearth themselves with the bulbs.
my brother of the forest, renounces his belongings and finances, to become a bodhisattva earth poet. I love him and I am babysitting his guitar, fiddle, typewriter and tent because he knows.
in moments like these we see the true colors.
MORTAL.
QUILT
RITE OF PASSAGE
MAIDEN
()
MOTHER
GRASS
FABRICS
Im swallowing
fabric.
fabric
fabric
when new, gets OLD
I wonder if Olympia's wet streets could carry the old model T,
Originals, on spread thin, graveled, wetland roads
between textiles and cracks.
I wonder what the heron and the harrow thought as they dug through their elements, watching as they were being watered down
by cultures unannounced.
loud people, sick people, romping through the native streets of a foreign way
There are pastures of plenty that are being watered down by fallacious bodhisattvas, masturbating to polluted air and singing hums that are false harmonies disguised as trivial orgasms,
predator and prey.
The fourth avenue bridge hangs her head as she hears the ways they don't say
and On a sunday night the naked people commune in the outlawed home where the horses hay.
the tears reside in the NEGLIGENCE, and they pray.
They pray
They pray
They pray
for the predator and prey
And when home will tell it to the mountain
on the day when we look to the hills
arm and arm
breast and bone
when the lovers love
and wed
celebrated
in retrospect
when the babies are born,
and the stories are told
and the songs prevail
we will always remember how we have and always were there and they weren't, and won't and will always be
gone
and we
love raw
because be prayed.
Originals, on spread thin, graveled, wetland roads
between textiles and cracks.
I wonder what the heron and the harrow thought as they dug through their elements, watching as they were being watered down
by cultures unannounced.
loud people, sick people, romping through the native streets of a foreign way
There are pastures of plenty that are being watered down by fallacious bodhisattvas, masturbating to polluted air and singing hums that are false harmonies disguised as trivial orgasms,
predator and prey.
The fourth avenue bridge hangs her head as she hears the ways they don't say
and On a sunday night the naked people commune in the outlawed home where the horses hay.
the tears reside in the NEGLIGENCE, and they pray.
They pray
They pray
They pray
for the predator and prey
And when home will tell it to the mountain
on the day when we look to the hills
arm and arm
breast and bone
when the lovers love
and wed
celebrated
in retrospect
when the babies are born,
and the stories are told
and the songs prevail
we will always remember how we have and always were there and they weren't, and won't and will always be
gone
and we
love raw
because be prayed.
It is always the romantic era in my soul.
Sometimes, when your north, you forget about Los Angeles which is a very important place that I know very, very well. In times of wondering, and figuring, it can be hard to know what to do. But, if one follows the subtle clues that are being spoon fed to you in the cranberry sauce during the thanksgiving meal, or in the brush stroke of the caravaggio exhibit-- than at least you know your on the right track! Because here, aiding these experiences are the very mentors that you are looking for so that you can know that you are doing the right thing. Plain as day, I see that there are quite the many magical beings in this life that come in at the moments of most sensical sways. Like learning about Patti Smith, or running into Bo and Charlie and Alex at the LACMA, or the fact that MAMA was here during this time, or the fact that I am so close to knowing what it is im gonna do this next year, that I just gotta sayHEY. and trust and keep living my ARTFUL existence cause thats all we got and we are all doing a hell of a job.
just keep figurin'
just keep figurin'
North
Ojai?
the moon (waxing gibbous)
Agoura Hills
South
Dicks Picks Volume 29 on the 101 north
HOME
Los Angeles
Persimmon season again
my favorite animal
sycamore
oak
dad & dude
Djerry passes down the carving to detective jason field
dog in heat
multi generational cousinly love
people are getting older
the men and their meat
I mean seriously, who brought the mold ?!
jah, rastafari
smoked&deep fried
nostrils
.
mama
mina
lolo
crystal mountain
shell mandala pool filter
shmom
crystals for finding the lost children
CRYSTAL DISCOVERY ON THE HILLSIDE ABOVE MY HOME
blissed out
lolita
the best day with the most beautiful people I know
I could seriously cry
Y
ELEVATING
cinderella
MY LINDA MAMA D, the best ever.
HEADS.
ALL OF THE BEST PEOPLE I KNOW IN THIS PART OF TOWN CONVERGED AT THE ART MUSEUM TODAY
Then we went to sushi and they have the best soap i have ever smelled in the bathroom in malibu.
IMPORTANT MEETINGS ARE ALWAYS AND FOREVER.and as long as I am vibrant and inquisitive and living I know that they wont be few and far between. For this is the stuff of life, its the magic that keeps on making magicians, its the gift that keeps on giving. It is Y, THE FLOWER ON THE STEM. it is the stem, the roots, & the magic of the heart.THE FEEL of the ART of the people and the words, makes you know the place you ought to be. Follow those,that,what & who came before you in the way that opens you up and take hold of the INFINITE POSSIBILITIES OF THE HEART.
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