Fun in the Void

You are as divine as you believe yourself to be. 

Everything you do is evil to somebody.

Perhaps you never grew up. Perhaps you never took the time to see the wonder of all things, the beauty inherent in everyone. Or perhaps you saw too clearly…Did you bury your darkness or did you wear it in your eyes?

What good do you have to give, anyway? What is the weight of a word?

Colors are good. This seems to make real sense to me. The colors of the fall leaves is a sign of goodness.

Earth is good. Earth is as good as it is violent. What is inside of a smile? Tenderness? Violence? Tendril-soft gooey honey love, pure and evident as sunlight, or a mystery to unpack, one dark layer at a time?

They say sugar is more addictive than cocaine. Will a mother always depend on her child? Will a father do the same? Who leads who? And where? What good can come over mulling over what “reality” means?

I don’t seem to mind the cold, when winter comes. It’s the grey that gets to me. The lack of colors. I need color to remember how beautiful everything is. And winter is coming…

Superficial obsession is my greatest vice…not having deeper curiosity about the inner machinations of what interests me—simply delighting in the fact that something actually stimulates me—is what terrifies me the most about my own brain.

Can curiosity be taught? Is my spiritual task now patient observation…surrender to the ocean I have been churning violently around in…let myself drown? 

I don’t know why I’ve walked through so much of my life with my head bowed down. How to find my way back home…when I haven’t been looking but languidly, stubbornly, angrily, lazily…

The truth is, I’ve got a gosh darn sweet tooth. I’d skip a dang meal for a slice of cherry pie and a cup of coffee any day…

I know I’m rabbit-holing hard about reality, mystery, and connection—am I just dragging my feet on engaging with life? Where does doubt come from? Doubt—that insatiable monster…

How to have fun in the face of the void…Fun…the pursuit of freedom…

Who are you? Who, who, who, who?

Sugar and Cheese Monster

Think it’s high time I cut some of the sugar out of my life. I’ve been subsisting lately on cheese and almond joy candy bars, hardly a well-rounded diet.

Speaking of sugar and cheese, I’m currently watching a Will Ferrell movie with the boyfriend. I’d never seen “Step Brothers” before. I am somewhat surprised to say I am enjoying it.

I don’t have much to say tonight. I hope everyone feels happy and free, wherever they are, whatever they are doing.

‘Tis a Gift To Be Simple

I’ve had Dolly Parton on the mind a lot lately. Her and Brandi Carlile. I am working on developing my musical voice, the kind of platform I want to stand on, musically. 

Country music is such an interesting retainer for storytelling. It’s an interesting paradox, that it can be simultaneously so straightforward and so profound. “’Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free…”

“I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” -F Scott Fitzgerald

I haven’t had a lot of words lately, which is unusual for me—they usually flow out of me with an intensity. As Stephen Fry once said, I’ve become “inebriated with the exuberance of my own verbosity.” But no longer. I guess an odd collection of quotes will have to do tonight…

“I can resist everything except temptation.” -Oscar Wilde

In conclusion, go listen to some Brandi Carlile. She’s doing some really groundbreaking work.

Lion Tamer

Lion tamer, what’s your aim?

Lion tamer, is it all a game?

Built for the sport of the circus-going sort

Who house the sad clowns with their makeup painted right side round

So at last they might surrender to the pleasure of the crowd? 

Get lost in that sound…

Filthy beggar, pick yourself up off that floor

Filthy beggar, don’t you know God’s made of windows and doors?

Oh and by the way, do you think you could deposit that change

Into the local convenience store?

You gotta keep that cash flow going round and round you know

And after that, why don’t you kick on a little further

Down the road.

Witchy woman, did they make you their fool?

Witchy woman, did you break all the rules?

Or were you counting on the moonlight to guide you home again like it’s done many many times before?

Or is that just a mirage of a fever dream of a thought

You might’ve had one time in a previous life before?

Or did you simply want something more?

More, more, more, more, more

More, more, more, more, more


Well we keep looking up for something to fill our cups,

But when will it ever be enough?

When will it ever be enough? 

love, terror, and waffle fries

All day, every day, I have dichotomies on the brain…good/evil, tenderness/violence, liberal/conservative, past/future, William Blake’s love/terror…

I was thinking of love and terror as I ate gorgonzola waffle fries this evening. They say anger is a fear response, and I’ve been feeling very angry lately. I am cumbersome with it—it is awkward for me to hold and channel. 

I feel very bifurcated lately. Like music is stitching me together, with every strange song that pops out of me. I feel so blessed by the proverbial Muse; I am so grateful to be creating again. I am running with it…I hope it lasts I hope it lasts I hope it lasts I hope it lasts…!

I’ve also been chewing on the concept of kindness lately—what is a true act of kindness? What is compassion? How do they interplay with rejection/acceptance? It’s all very nebulous to me at present. “Everything you do is evil to somebody,” as I believe Joseph Campbell said. 

And how about the dichotomy of intuition/intellect? What good is an intellect, truly? I am learning more and more that I need to shut my dang mouth…listen more, emote more, talk less, move slower…

Getting older sure is bizarre. 

“The very essence of love is uncertainty.” -Oscar Wilde

live music and growing

I am currently reveling in some live music put on at a local venue. I used to turn my nose up at live local shows—now I see them as the heartbeat of the town in which I live.

So many of the performers tonight have been touched and influenced by my current music professor at my college. I wish there were some way to pay back the energy she has put into us, but I’m just not sure how to express my gratitude. Apparently she jokes she has started a cult. I don’t think that’s far from the mark, frankly…

I’ve been thinking about dichotomies lately. Namely tenderness/violence and virtue/vice.

I don’t know how to control the feelings I have inside me. I am struggling not to feel behind the curve, but there is so much inside me…so much I’m not giving flight to…how to grab it with confidence and ownership…how to fully believe in myself…

I got crazy angry today, which I’m not sure has ever happened…like, ever. I strode around the house crashing into things and screaming profanities until I finally surrendered to the warm embrace of my candlelit bathtub.

Loving yourself takes time, growth takes time, faith is the necessary ingredient…

Mistress Mary, Quite Contrary

I’ve been thinking about Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” painting a lot today for some reason. I’ve always taken it as a very somber reflection of the horrors of humanity, but upon looking at it today, it really is a very silly little caricature of a face. That might be a blasphemous attitude to take regarding Art, but there it is. 

Today in class, we discussed stories as containers of mystery with which we might pluck out joy. This brought me to thinking about “The Secret Garden” by Frances Hodgson Burnett. “Mistress Mary, quite contrary…” I’ve also had Oscar Wilde on my brain today…again that old quote about being yourself…

I was tethered to reality by meeting to plan a meal with a good friend today. We’re planning a dinner party for later this month, full of autumn veggies, lamb, and galette…

I am too tired for a long post tonight. I am fighting to pull myself out of my brain today…


Little hummingbird at the feeder,

What’s your time? What’s your meter?

How do you move so fast and so slow?

How do you know the things you know?

It seems I’m just a slave to beauty…

Or at least lead by the nose by beauty…

Tall lighthouse, spiral stairs inside your door

I think I’ve seen your light someplace once before

But I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore, 

Because these waves just keep on rolling home against soft shore.

Still we love a beauty…

Even strange beauty…

Little baby, sleeping in your bed

Well I hope good dreams are running through your head

Because we all fight demons until the day that we are dead

And then we can look back on all the life that we have led

Were you slave to beauty?

Did you say goodbye?

Letting Go…

Letting go of control…the idea that I have any semblance of control at all over my fate…accepting whatever “is” and letting go of all the rest…

I think it was Neko Case who once said Nature is a control freak. I think it’s funny when we personify nature like that. Like, you’d think she would have called humans the control freaks—we’re the ones who have taken great pains to separate ourselves from our environment. In class, we’ve been talking about myths as a form of separating nature from civilization, highlighting the importance of conforming to a certain set of social standards and “reforming” or “taming” our wild nature. 

We discussed the opposition of intuition versus intellect as well, and how that mirrors the nature/civilization dichotomy. For some reason, in many myths, these two opposing forces are often personified in the body of a woman. 

I have no idea why I was born a woman. I was very tomboyish growing up, and currently work a blue collar job. I am attracted to both sexes. I like playing in the dirt. These statements are built on stereotypes, but there you go…the human form is a strange vessel. 

Identities blow in and out of me as I’m walking down the street, as I’m interacting with strangers, as I’m driving down the road. Something about me is hollow, or “leaks”. I’m drafty? I don’t know what it means; it’s all very confusing.

I’m exhausted. It was a strange day. I missed another opportunity to take a spiritual leap today, but as a poet once said, there’s always another spot…will endeavor to keep my head up, keep looking forward, keep the faith…

Good night. 

Feed Yourself First

“Be yourself—everyone else is already taken.” -Oscar Wilde

It seems like there is a maze between my heart and my mouth. I am learning to navigate it daily, how to chart it faithfully and compassionately, without judgement towards myself. There is a powerful light inside me, but powerful darkness too. 

I ate a good dinner with my family tonight. Things felt natural and warm and free. I am learning to relax. I am learning I am safe. I am learning I am powerful, I am made of love and star guts. 

Bodies are embarrassingly straightforward; souls are mystifying. I have a deep hunger-ache for soul connection. It seems a void that can’t be filled, or satisfied, one bite at a time. I seem to want the whole gulp, but am afraid to be greedy. Am I worthy of tasting deep love?

But that’s how we make soul-connections. Conquer and feed, or fawn and eat. I am starving, and have been for a long time. Tomorrow is another day to relax into my deepest self, to bear this soul proudly, in all my hungry glory. You have to feed yourself first.