April 30, 2005
Nutrition continued
Yesterday I went to my nutritionist's country office. Significantly, the lights went out for about fifteen minutes during our session, probably due to the energy we generated. We had a giggle over that one.
I had not completed my assignment for last week. I was to have made a little sacred space with a photo of myself as a child, and keep it full of fresh flowers all spring to honor her. I did find the picture that I wanted to use for this, right on top of my photo drawer yesterday, and will set it up momentarily.
My nutritionist took out her divining rods again, and asked for a little direction , which was freely given. It's actually quite alot of fun being in on the plan.
Rods in hand, guided from above, she asked about the condition of the base of my spine. I have broken my coccyx twice in my life, once in sixth grade, at the moment of menarchy, I might add, and again when I was a junior in college. Both involved falls, one while ice skating and one on granite stairs . I knew my coccyx was broken because of the excruciating pain generated when standing up or sitting down. I don't think I told anyone about the fracture in sixth grade. I was afraid I had something wrong, and didn't want to get into trouble with my mother. When it happened again in college, I must have gone to the doctor, and then realized that I had broken it before.
Turns out that there is a homeopathic remedy specifically for the base of the spine. Then she gave me arnica, which is common for treating muscle aches and bruises , and something to straighten out my sleep. The guides, Edgar (need we mention his last name) was among them. (Aside: my shaman's family was very involved with Cayce, and she was raised in that community.)
Edgar and the team insisted that she give me the most powerful doses of all three rememdies. When she appeared to be a little shocked, they assured her that I had a very strong consititution and would be fine.
I was instructed to dissolve this tiny pinch of crystals (didn't look too powerful at the bottom of the glass) in distilled water and swish it around in my mouth for a few minutes before swallowing. I wasn't to do it until I got home, since it might have affected my ability to drive. She said that I might have a bit of a kundalini experience in a few weeks.
My homework assignment is to write a poem about my new space, in order to realign my energies toward finding one. My enthusiasm has been slightly dampened by discussions about inflated real estate prices and rising mortgage rates. The aboves suggested that the space be on the first floor with just a few stairs, so that it would be accessible in my old age (which is probably here, were it not for my psychological immaturities ). The space also needs to be full of light.
This morning my feet are improved significantly, and I slept a little longer than usual. I can't tell you about my coccyx, because it doesn't hurt, it just keeps my energy from flowing smoothly.
Photo note: I think this is echineaca, as close to a remedy that I had in my collection - it looks like it is about to open.
April 28, 2005
Pergola, Almost with Moire
In an attempt to spare you the spring flowers that involuntarily leap onto all of my memory cards this time of year, glutting me with the ordinary, if lovely, I am publishing a little something left over from my hunt for the wild moire.
Truly, I don't know how much longer I can resist the impulse to slather this space with sentimental horticultural shots. You will know immediately when I have succumbed.
I realize that I can add this to my pergola collection.
April 27, 2005
Kisses
This is the work of artist Tali Gai. Her mother owns M Salon and Tali's creations are displayed in the window of her mother's shop.
As you can see her sculptures are brilliantly colored, eyecatching and ever so whimsical. Raw meat, as they say in the trade, for the predatory amateur digital photographer stalking a shot.
As I was snapping away, a shop assistant ran out of the door and told me to stop . She said that the sculptures were copyrighted and that I wasn't allowed to take photos of them. Obedient soul that I am, I stopped (but, as you notice, didn't turn in my negatives). She came out again with a brochure for Tali's upcoming show and apologized for being stern. Evidently another photographer had done what I was doing, and published the photo as his or her own , which it was, kind of.
The next day a friend of mine went back with her camera (I'll see if I can publish her photo which is seriously spiritual), and was told that if she used her photograph, she was to give credit to the artist. This is only fair, given that Tali has clearly spent hundreds of hours meticulously creating this vision, and all of us little snappers just come along and snarf it up.
I am of the opinion that photography, at least as I do it, is not really art, in the sense that it falls into my lap completely whole, at most needing a dusting with photoshop. There are many times that I shoot someone else's creation, as in rock arrangements, or painted pumpkins without knowing who made them.
I can only hope that when a real artist sees their stuff on my blog their heart will warm with the knowledge that their audience is expanding, by at least three people. (just kidding, since google image's mistake continues, and 1700 folk a day are bumbling in.)
Photo note: see above
Here's the fabulous shot my friend manifested. She kindly donated it for your edification, but wishes to remain anonymous.
April 23, 2005
Passover
Passover again
my house
at six
twenty two
of us
children
grown
and coupled
return
finally
friendly to
each other
three of us
are missing
watching from
beyond
paper plates
potluck
chicken soup
matzo balls
kugel
haroset
brisket
homemade horseradish
Manischewitz
the story
of Passover
read in turn from
homemade booklets
stapled
frayed
and spotted
from seders past
reverence
irreverence
singing
laughter
political commentary
enslavement
freedom
all the
big questions
a celebration
punctuating
the continuity
and discontinuity
of life
Looking Up, Looking Down
I thought this would be Number 3 in the Peeling Paint series , but my new camera is so nifty that it just focused on what it was supposed to focus on, blurring the background, thus losing the nuance of the peel. (I have finally found a little button that makes it all possible). This little curlyque is forty feet up in a tree of some sort.
Someone pointed out to me recently that many of my photos are taken in the down direction, rather than the up direction. As I was shooting this particular froufrou high up in a tree, a little girl walked by with her dad. Mind you, it was close to 80 degrees, so we know that she had definitely chosen her costume for for it's photogeneity, rather than it's comfort. Of course, I had to take her picture, which, sadly, does not do justice to her fabulous chicken hat.
I asked permission to take her picture. I couldn't get the pose just right (which would have required my usual fifteen shots), even though I had a willing model. I didn't want to make her father, who was enjoying our interaction to that point, uncomfortable or suspicious. Sad days.
April 20, 2005
smoke and mirrors
I hear we have a new pope.
Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger aka "God's Rottweiler" aka Benedict XIV, has been duly selected.
We have needed a new pope for quite some time, since the issues confronting the institution of the Catholic Church are many, and John Paul's idea of moral leadership was regressive at best. Sadly, it doesn't look like God's Rottweiler is going to do much to improve the situation for the poor and disenfranchised either. At least, with a nickname like God's Rottweiler, he will not be hiding behind a benevolent facade to do his dirty deeds. He seems to be quite a fan of the darkly archconservative secret society Opus Dei.
Apologists are saying that at age 78, Benedict won't be poping for long, but as we can see from others with leanings such as his, it doesn't take much to undo whatever is left of a democratic process in an institution, once you set your mind to it. When that's gone, there's no need to worry about power shake ups. Of course the church may lose a few more members as a result, but all that means is that there are more fancy hats for those that are left.
I think the Catholic Church should consider using Jimmy Carter or The Dalai Lama for a consultation next time around.
Photo note: In anticipation of my need, the office building in which I was introduced to jouissance last Sunday was spewing white smoke. Handy, as was it's location right next to a monumental phallic symbol. Just right for a metaphorophoto.
April 19, 2005
Oligarchy
Have you noticed that
there is
just one stationary store,
just one hardware store,
just one flower shop
just one department store
just one company receiving government contracts
soon there will be
just one media outlet
just one bookstore
just one software company
just one political party
just one state religion
Photo note: Snapped at Home Depot, which provided poetic inspiration
April 18, 2005
Entry #901, No Kidding
Egg
on the
edge
of losing
its identity
more like
knockwurst
I ate it
for breakfast
Just how far from the norm
does something have to deviate in order to be excluded from a category?
This chicken product almost crosses the line. I really should have photographed it on a plain surface for full deviant appreciation, but, as usual, I couldn't resist the pretty Portugese plate. Lots of sacred geometry for lovers of that sort of thing.
On an entirely unrelated topic, I must direct you to the Unitarian Jihad
April 16, 2005
Asparagus
Here's my opportunity to display that aspect of myself that fancies herself Martha Stewart (though I am far less prolifiic in the creative homemaking arena, not nearly as obsessive, and more honest in my stock trading, infrequent that it is these days), as well as to update those of you who are following my nutritional adventures.
When I visit my nutritionist, we have ever so much to cover in an hour. Last week, although we cleared three allergies, we also vacuumed out the misty red vapors lurking around my throat, opened up a few more chakras and evened out my aura, particularly in the crown area. I also, as you recall, got to take Henry and Roberta home. Oh dear, I think I forgot to return them, though I'm sure they're perfectly capable of being just where they're needed.
In our haste, I forgot to ask which allergies were cleared-- although I suppose it really doesn't matter, I asked this week, just for the record. They were as follows: diesel and gasoline fumes, little black bugs (which we both assumed to be dust mites, of which there are plenty in the microwilderness around me), and asparagine-linked glycans. Guess where those are located? In asparagus -- a veggie high on my top ten favorite food of all time list. My nurtitionist says you often crave the foods to which you are most allergic. I just adore those skinny, skinny little ones and now the fat, fresh spring ones.
Well the good thing is, we are taking care of the allergy somewhere in the etherial, so I can now eat asparagus to my heart's content, just like I did before, without consequences. I guess that goes for diesel fumes and dust mites too, though I am not as attached to those.
You may ask, how's the nutrition part going? I think it is my satiety that is being affected. We shall see. I am not sylphlike as yet, but as Esther Hicks, channeling Abraham, would say you can be plump and miserable, or you can be chubby and glorious - the only thing that you can change overnight is your perspective.
In any case, at Easter, I had put a bunch of asparagus into a little water in a glass beaker for storage, when it occurred to me that adding a few daffodils to the arrangement would make a festive spring centerpiece. Then, of course, I took a picture, not a great one, but illustrative enough. Two weeks later, I found out why I needed it.
April 14, 2005
Feet and Beyond
final
foto
of
the
foot
festival
featuring
fanciful
front door
foreshadowing
future
forsythia
Photo note: A metaphorophoto - looking past the clawed feet, into the reflected unknown, with the anticipation of blooming.
Crocus with Foot
Good Enough Self: (turns to the audience, apologetically) As you see, I have relented.
Big Baby: (pitifully, also to the audience) I have hundreds and hundreds of flower pictures, but she won't let me post them
Good Enough Self: For the last two weeks, we cannot pass a spring flower without stopping to shoot. Because it's only a waste of electrons (and hard disc space, my computer just warned me) I have indulged your impulses. However, this is supposed to be a cutting edge blog, and four hundred crocuses does not a cutting edge make.
Big Baby: What about pretty ? They're so pretty.
Good Enough Self: You are beginning to sound like Helium, dear.
Big Baby: Pleeeeeeeeeeease
Good Enough Self: We have published this particular crocus, because it had the good sense to grow at the foot of a griffin, and, thematically, we have a small Gothic foot festival going this week. In additon, it has a substantial shadow, which always counts for something around here. I do hope that this is not the thin edge of a wedge, as the Mitfords would say.
Big Baby: More, MORE
April 12, 2005
Feet
I am posting this photo for all of you who have wondered about my progress in the area of stuck energy. I haven't hosted an organ recital in ages, if you don't count healing adventures. A quick summary of the problem. Technically, I have plantar flexed forefoot , probably as a result of a childhood virus, since my ballet career was shortlived and humiliating. The more woowoo diagnoses have suggested that I am reincarnated from 9th century China or, more likely, when I arrived on earth (from god knows where) I was dismayed by what I had chosen, and wanted to leave immediately, thus pulling my energy upwards. I have spent a considerable amount of time and money working on a proper landing.
I ran across this little bit of Neogothica a few days ago, and thought to myself, this looks just like MY feet, save for the toenails. I always try to cut my toenails straight across rather than file them to a point, and to paint them a pretty color. I wouldn't want to frighten small children at the beach, or give my Wicca friends the wrong idea.
My feet are actually quite a bit better lately, whether it be from druidic incantations or Chinese Tui Na , I will never know. I may even be able to wear my costly Masai sneakers this summer without worrying about falling off of them. Then I shall be able to take full advantage of their promise. " Walk like a Masai woman, sway your hips, shed cellulite and carry bundles on your head with no effort." Jouissance extraordinaire.
Today after Tui Na I felt the front of my heels on the ground, for the first time in many years. It's quite a sensation, and cuts through that unattractive tendency to walk at a ten degree forward angle. A girl can just lean back and amble.
April 11, 2005
The Precolombians Are Back
Ah, another
Precolombian
posing for
the word
jouissance
Lacanian
messages
from
the
universe
Photo note: Not a great photo by any means, but synchronicity made me publish it. The Lacanian Experiential Group yesterday was interesting. As you can see from the clickies, Lacan isn't a quick study -- too heady for my immediate purposes. Let's hear it for jouissiance, though. I can tell that I'll be flinging that term around alot.
April 10, 2005
Rose
Because my Good Enough Self committed to spend the most beautiful day so far this spring indoors, months ago, I am allowing the Big Baby to publish a flower picture. The Big Baby would rather be cycling.
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I am participating in an experiential group with Marcario Giraldo at the recommendation of a dear and close personal friend who is organizing it. I know very little about his work, but am told his groups are based on the writings of the psychoanalytic theorist Jacques Lacan. He is said to be a wonderful teacher.
Upon googling, which I did not think to do until this morning, I noticed that he was a speaker at the National Fibromyalgia Conference. He must be interested in the mind-body connection, which is right up my alley.
Gotta go, since I'm bringing the coffee.
Photo note: A flower (to satisfy you-know-who), indoors, light and shadow.
April 09, 2005
Number 2
The second
in the
Peeling Paint
Series
which
it
seems
that I
am
starting
April 08, 2005
Kitties Galore
Just a little synchronicity giggle. This van was parked in my path yesterday, allowing me to pander to the kitty clickers among you.
Sadly, I am terribly allergic to cats. I used to get a runny nose and itchy eyes, but now I have an asthmatic reaction which leaves me gasping for breath after an exposure. This is one reason cat portraits are so rare in my portfolio-- perhaps if I purchased a telephoto lens. In any case, the appearance of cats in nonallergenic form, felt like a little gift from the universe.
By the way, my visitors diminished to 1700 yesterday. The gig is up. By the end of the week it's gonna be just me and both my loyal fans once again. It was fun while it lasted.
April 07, 2005
The Outing
It's
surely
a sign
of spring
when
the Precolombians
go out
for
a
stroll
Photo note: These guys belong in the Hurst Gallery. I was shooting from a steep angle to avoid a self-portrait, and that transported them out onto the street.
A Mystery
Something astonishing is happening on my blog. On March 27, I had the same two hundred plus unique visitors as I've had for over a year. From March 27th to today, I have moved by larger and larger increments to 2,276 unique visitors.
At first I thought that most of the increasing numbers had to do with the pill, poker and penis pushers who hang their advertisements off my blog like Spanish moss, and thus are counted as visitors rather than parasites , for which there is no category. But my web server statistics tell me that most of my traffic is coming from google images . There is, of course, the handsome, romantic, young man with excellent taste, I might add, who chose my white lily photo to represent himself in a personal ad at My Space. He gets about three hundred hits a day because he's adorable.
In addition, the top search keywords reveal that many people are stumbling upon Dakota when they google "kitten" and "future" - I never published a picture of a kitten on my blog until yesterday (pandering to my public) -- perhaps in a clickie, but never on a frontispiece. Who knows? The future google image seems to be an entry about outsider art.
So I think my nutritionist's treatment is working. Here's the plan, my head will grow larger as my body melts away. Soon I will be just like Helium, if I don't watch it. No kidding, our work in the woowoo is manifesting.
Photo note: This is the prettiest picture I ever took of Spring. The passerby gets a big gold star for her choice of costume. It seemed a shame not to publish again, for the throngs who might have missed it the first time around.
April 04, 2005
Really?
TWO POEMS ON THE THEME OF REALITY AND DISTRACTION
Poem #1
Saw a hubcap
took a shot
wrote a poem
pondered life
waxed hermetic
googled clicks
published poem
waited
three days
for the revelation
I own
the hubcap
not anymore
Poem #2
while
masticating
the mystical
composing
an esoteric
elucidation
an ode
to underlying
understanding
I missed
the mundane
obfuscated
the obvious
overlooked
the overt
the
sacred
shape
I shot
belonged
below
my bumper
now
it's
gone
forever
providence
providing
the possiblity
to peruse
a cemetery
of sacred shapes
for a satisfying
shooting spree
Photo note: The cat was chosen for his expression of disbelief and mild distain.
April 03, 2005
Newsflash, Newsflash
The Pope is dead, just in case you hadn't heard. Yes, he was an important world figure, but Our Media, once again, is busy wringing the last teardrop out of this handkerchief. Honestly, you would think he was Princess Di . Even my beloved NPR and the BBC are taking part in the frenzy. Soon we will be hearing about the details of his hat and jewelry collection.
While the tedium of it all is nearly unbearable, the real question is what happens to other important stories while the world is mourning the Pope twenty four-seven? I guess Tom Delay's indictment, and the death of the filibuster will have to wait. Besides, some issues are too complicated for the public to understand. Now death, there's solid subject that captures everyone's attention. Too bad the Pope's passing happened in the same week as Terri Schiavo's. Such poor timing. I was hardly even tired of hearing about that one yet. Both of them, bless their hearts, provided the press with long, drawn out, agonizing ends - literally months of big red herrings.
George W. has taken the opportunity to communicate covertly with all his Fundamentalist Christian constituency in his Pope Paul death speech, by peppering his remarks with multiple references to the culture of life. Thank heavens I cannot find an unedited version for your perusal. Wait until they find out that the Pope, to his credit, was opposed the invasion of Iraq, the torture at Abu Gahrib, and the death penalty. But let's not make a big issue out of little differences when there's an opportunity to send a message to the flock.
Our press recently spent a week or two interring Ronald Reagan while hardly mentioning his unappealing little prejudices, and the tradition continues. The Pope had a few blind spots that take away from his shining image in my book. I felt that his opposition to condom use in the AIDs epidemic in Africa was unconscionable, though I do understand that it goes along with the ensconced tradition of opposing birth control in the Catholic Church. Usually all that means is the oppression of women and the propagation of poverty -- but epidemic AIDS? I thought it might be an exception.
I could not believe the Pope's appointment of Cardinal Bernard Law to his inner circle at the Vatican, not two years after Law's forced resignation rom the Archdiocese of Boston. Cardinal Law participated actively in a thirty-year coverup of clergy sexual abuse of children. The Pope, in the old boy, patriarchal tradition, quickly found a place for Cardial Law in his inner sanctum. What does that say about his position on the sexual abuse of children in the church, or rather the corruption of power that exists in the institution as a whole that needs careful examination? I would give the Pope an "F" on that one, for Flagrant Denial.
For the occasion of the Pope's death, Cardinal Law can be seen commenting on ABC's "This Week". He's back! Let's hope he's not on the short list to be Pope. Perhaps he'll be satisfied by replacing Dan Rather, instead.
Photo note: Best I could do with death on short notice.
April 02, 2005
The Fractured No
I visited my nutritionist again today. I got tied up in Symphony traffic, and it just wasn't a time to be late.
After brief consultation, all of us, in our own ways, went to work on my fractured no . It was fractured early by you know who, who did not take kindly to the two year old "NO!". (Remind me to write a Struwwelpeter rhyme about the little girl who said no. Heinrich Hoffman seems to have dismissed it as too minor an infraction.) A girl without a no in the world doesn't feel very safe. In fact, she feels terrified of the consequences of saying no, so she rarely does it.
I did take Model Mugging several years ago which involved a good deal of practice yelling "NO!" at the top of my lungs and stamping my feet near the head of a felled perpetrator. My nutritionist pointed out that the "no" that I seem to be lacking is the "no, it doesn't suit me"
As to the restorative process. Suffice it to say that it took place on the table and involved toning, druidish ditties, incantations and pain draining from the heart.
My nutritionist sent me home with two of her own healing angels for the week. (I think she has some to spare.) I certainly can use a little reinforcement. I asked their names (for googling purposes) and my nutritionist giggled and said they told her to tell me, Roberta and Henry - taken directly from a 30's musical. My kind of angels.
I have yet to use my "No, it doesn't suit me" (end there, no explanations, no discussion) Maybe it's just present as a little red vapor in my aura, where others can sense it, and they won't even bother to test.
In the meantime, I plan to use my "No, it doesn't suit me" for nutritional purposes. You can see why this process is called "Inner Nourishment"
Which Roberta do you think came home with me? Here's Henry .
Photo note: Pretty good shot of the "no fragments", if I do say so myself. They look like they could use a little Heeeeelium.