Vashon

  • Jan. 25th, 2008 at 11:18 PM
pathwork, totoro, hush, travelogue, narrative, blonde swedes artsy, bear and bird, blonde swedes duo, blonde swedes acoustic, transform, tart, raven, blonde swedes smile, private, child, gentleness, process, mythic, blonde swedes studio, cartoon, tech dorkbot, ho ho ho, love, playtime, blonde swedes action, scanner face
A quick update, and more soon to come. Thanks for your comments, they mean the world to me.

But now, some pictures of my trip to Vashon Island with [info]imtboo, [info]trochee, and [info]streamsandpools. Thanks from the bottom of our hearts for the kindness of this gift. Boo and Troch, you rock.

Betty McDonald Farm

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Crow Party

  • May. 8th, 2007 at 10:39 PM
pathwork, totoro, hush, travelogue, narrative, blonde swedes artsy, bear and bird, blonde swedes duo, blonde swedes acoustic, transform, tart, raven, blonde swedes smile, private, child, gentleness, process, mythic, blonde swedes studio, cartoon, tech dorkbot, ho ho ho, love, playtime, blonde swedes action, scanner face

Crow Party
Originally uploaded by blackwingedboy.


I carry a piece of Tibetan Jade in my pocket. When the earth feels unsteady, or when the ghosts howl from the corners, I cup my palm around it and it warms my body from the fingertips in. It's brown flecked surface reminds me of sumi-e brushstrokes depicting quiet gardens and cherry tree blossoms. It's long, white channels remind me of rivers far below my outstretched wings.

And now I am back from Ventura and [info]writeanya, and all those days of warm, home-cooked meals and giggling babies, a kiss on the cheek every night and every morning, birdsong in salt-spray sunshine, and a strange fairyland bed full of my smell and my story books... all those days seem far behind me. I was well cared for. I've missed it.

We go on adventures to discover life, but our journeys change us. And the mark and measure of those windings paths is what is brought back home. This trip changed me, but I'm not sure exactly how. Much of it is the baby Maeve, watching her move fluidly from mood to mood, the undercurrent of joy as a constant return - the truth in her reactions, her expressions, and the power of her wordlessness. And much of it is being around my fox cousin, watching her small, sharp teeth break into a grin at any mischief and the way she weaves long tailed magic through her world, the way she fiercely loves and protects her own.

And so, on the heels of the last few posts, I flew on an airplane away from my shell-walls, and let it all ruminate and marinate and root. And I think I've come home with a better understanding of My Truth, and a more eased way of walking through it. My truth is a wild thing made of winds and shadows, a dancing sprite fire, willow-wisping in the mist song, and after this trip, I see that it is also white and bright and liquid and full of illumination. I feel a sense of completion in this knowledge, even though these last few days I've been feeling a great sense of wandering fuzziness, and some measure of loss.

I know that by speaking my truth in every moment, I will live the kind of life that is it my potential and in my heart to live. I just have to remember it, and I have to realize that it's one of the hardest things to regularly accomplish. But for me, and for my journey deeper into the soul of this life, it's the key to unlocking both manifestation and mystery.

Thank you, [info]writeanya, for giving me, again, what I need when I needed it.

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