SXSW & Father Feels

I am foggy from the desire to connect with my family. My father lives with my brother in Buda TX, a few miles from the Austin Convention Center. I'll be living in my rental car near the convention center for the next couple of weeks. My brother hasn't been able to get my dad to call me all year.

Full disclosure, when I spoke to him on his birthday in October (2017), it was the first time we'd spoken in 4 months and the first time we'd spoken on his birthday in 25 years. When we spoke last summer on Father's Day it was the first time I'd heard his voice in about 7 years. I haven't seen him in twice that long. Since we all convened to bury my grandfather. I had called him on Father's Day, a Bonnaroo tradition, as long as I had a number to call him. He always answered.

Now I have my little brother and his cell phone. A young man, six months younger than my own firstborn, raising his own 4 year old son. I don't want him to feel in the middle. I do wish to see my father. He'll literally be right down the road.

Without suppressing or compartmentalizing my emotions, I shall draw forward into the ocean of opportunity that is the SouthXSouthWest Film & Music Conference. With American leaders like Bernie Sanders, Jim Gaffigan, Hasan Minaj, Melinda Gates, and Spike Lee I will swim with like minded leaders from around the world.

I will be doing live broadcasts from my podcast channel as often as technologically possible (permissions & power). Check out Full Disclosure Asheville on Podbean, Stitcher or at www.xina.rocks #newwebsite

Shiva shall release me from all paternal ties of guilt, shame or obligation, while upgrading my personal relationship dynamics to support positive masculine energy, forgiveness and unconditional love. Ganesha provides infinite solutions while removing all obstacles to companionship, knowledge and success.

Kali walks with me, crone Tzaykalianna, managing my rage, frustrations or fear. She turns toward those who carry limited perceptions of me with the fiery gaze of enlightenment and full knowing of themselves. Quan Yin leads me with truth, grace and the comfort of being fully realized throughout my human journey on Earth. She holds me in my rest, rejuvenating and expanding my dreams.

May Lakshmi set my coffers to overflow and guide you to your own highest purpose of service and self-fullfillment.
(((((((((((O))))))))))) Namaste.

hymn to apollo (77-88)

but octopuses will make their lairs on me and sleek seals
their homes untroubled with no people near
but if you would deign to swear me a great oath, goddess,
that he will build a very beautiful temple here first
to be an oracle for men, and then
among all men, since he will be worshipped under many names.

so she spoke, and Leto swore the great oath of the gods:

now let the earth know these things and the wide heaven above
and the flowing water of the Styx, which is the greatest
and most awful oath among the blessed gods,
that in this place there will always be a fragrant
altar and sacred precinct for Phoibos, and he will honor you above all.

the mama of apollo

the he.said.she.said of our little villages has stunted our growth for thousands of years, yet we wonder why we stay in the game.  we fight nausea and physical pangs of stretch and bend as we stay in the loop.di.loop of life and i wonder what tethers keep us safe as we overstand and find a new way to dance the ring of fire and strut the lines of comprehension.

as i read the hymn of apollo from a greek translation of historical mythos, i wondered about favorites and herstories from a native land that bear repeating, knowing i prefer a translation from rome.  i find myself caught between the shire and the cliffs when i go underground, to later surface from the crest of a wave, either sicilian or reptilian or as pure as the freshly fallen snow.

as i considered a quote and landed lost in the valley of the grape driven apathy that swells the sleight of hand over too much barley, so too many fine flavors that serve our fathers and mothers as well as ourselves.  we wonder how much response must be carried for our own offspring, if we find ourselves staring them in their adult faces....

music is the only salve that cures what hibernation steals from an eager insomniac.  when the wyrd let me rest i know the growing pains of my first and fifth year find their surface among this that and then the third.  protein fortified bone development and brainwaves that saturated the sounds of whatever swam from the stereo or down the staircase from the piano solos.... through the release of so many blind spots at once that i feel taller and smaller and longer and stronger and weaker in one long, solitary breath.

fading into some ancient glorification of a harbour that i hold for your flagrant piracy, your fragrant constellations that guide me through a technicolor transition in an old silent moviehouse.  was that the absinthe or the smell of your hair?  there were whispers from miles away and not one lip could be seen moved by language.  we sought a higher truth that found nothing necessary more than the music drifting through the halls.  our bodies responded to images and sounds that transcended the space between our minds, as we faded into one another among the shadows of every moviehouse and private parlour across the land.  the gatherings of eager sensual beings grew as more prolific mediums spread....

and here we are.  technology spreading more quickly than the roots of our trees or the vines of our stability.  a variety of ghostwriters telling a variety of stories as we choose from a variety of translations of a variety of perspectives around no solid truth of what came before us.  is the revolution being digitized?  catch it over at the variety playhouse.

like Leto, the daughter of Koios and Phoebe and mother of Apollo and Artemis, the seeds of Zeus, my mother bore a contract for great competence through the great rage of an offspring who would bear quivers against men and women of the sort that carry tools as weapons out of greed, in a vain attempt at protecting a place in a people who are carrying tools as weapons out of necessity and the will to thrive amongst their own.

as Zeus overcame a generation, son of Rhea, daughter of Ouranos, spectrum of GAIA, accepted the birth of Apollo as a veil that he might pass through into an unfathomed sense of freedom by the renewal of anonymity.  we are each an offshoot of heaven and shall harbour no desire against ourself, but guise a creative flow that serves beyond our sight.  as a common consciousness of stories and light, the shadows bring colour through sound and may you serve yourself well among the vast ocean of potential.  may you reach beyond the base of your existence into the bass of your greatest common cross section, denominating all domination, denominations and indoctrinations while allowing the architecture of your desires and plans to found themselves among a pure and sacred mud, recognizing the intricate piers above the muddy waters as an equally righteous oasis amongst the weary travelers of our human race.  we should be recognizing ourselves in the distance.

maria of the fort was placed in a black hole in the spring of 1991, as every participant and patron was overexposed for the duration of our journey along a temporary timeline.  memories lost but not forgotten are stepping stones for the return journey or the full circle round.  reach beyond what you see, hear or know.  recognize what you feel within the cosms of your existence.
live long and foster truth.
listen to the music.
be the muse.

march madness: the subdued version

....and another two months seem like a century.  i realize this, as march marks one year since i walked out of the courthouse resigned to give up the fight for custody of my son and let him live his senior year of highschool in peace, while i picked up the pieces.  i am amazed at the courage his little brother has found and how much they have both matured in this crazy, convoluted year and i am thankful to have lived through it.

some days it felt like so many things were trying to kill me, including myself.  in the last four or five months before we left all.of.it road behind, my life became clausterphobically full of ghosts.  catch phrases in buried voices, surviving on foundations of laughter and closeness.  faces of people whose names i could not recall, surrounded by smiles who might have known but didn't get involved.  abnormal relationships weren't called out in the south in the seventies and most things happened behind closed doors.  folks trusted smooth talk and living room entertainment too much and there was always somewhere to run.  and baby he was born to run.

today i'm reminded of new roads to roam, running welcome but not mandatory.  i am re.mind.ed of a new story, that focuses on my children over my childhood and letting go of whatever's not good.  i realize that i walked out of the courthouse in march 2011, after three solid years of defending the choices of my adult life while begging to be with my son, carrying a broken heart so full of pain and disgust and rage that i took an immediate trajectory toward my own personal hell on earth, attracting people and opportunities and situations that brought out the worst in me.  that i numbed myself on mindless entertainment and social distraction like a junkie and i took ahold of poverty, desperation and shame like they were some sort of salvation.  i allowed myself to feel like a victim and wondered what i deserved.  i craved changing the past, wishing i could take back all of the years and excuses and opportunities i had given my transgressors.  i experienced regret for the first time, wishing i had given ian the chance to grow up free from abuse in an exchange for growing up without a father.  the irony of wishing joshua's father would acknowledge him is not lost on me, but seems to be obviously poignant in the grand scheme of things.  where one head is removed another will appear.  we are all at the mercy of heathers.

i realize only a few weeks after losing one son to a flawed system and several of the more weak minded, fear mongerers of our species, that i almost lost everything else.  when you feel like you've lost everything, there is always something more at stake.  whenever you have given up a path of struggle, you must be open to the new path of ease.  if you become stagnant, you become toxic.  when you are toxic, you attract toxicity.  when we allow ourselves to accept poverty or self-defeat we are giving in to a design that was created to weed out our greatest possibilities and suppress our spirit.  when we strive to overcome poverty through self-awareness and positive self-image, we allow our spirit to overcome those existing paradigms.

two months doesn't really seem like a century, but it does seem like a lot of growth has happened in a very short time, for myself as well as those around me.  and a year can seem like a lifetime when really it's just a fork in the road.  much like an immaculate jam, a glorious life is about mastering transitions.  i don't know what simon says but this white trash goddess says, just give yourself time.

jah bless.

mormons, muslims and mayans! oh my!

and another two months slip by.... here is a post from www.theXphiles.com.blogspot.com where you can find more.  i will not make a habit of publishing the same post on both blog sites, but this one was clean and seemed worthy of mass coverage.  i am shocked to see that this site has received almost 100 hits just in the last week.  i have to wonder if i have just one avid stalker - mom? - or people actually come here for amusement.  if it's the latter, i'm flattered that you keep checking in when i haven't yet reached any sense of consistency.  i am writing during these stretches, just nothing that seems followable to the untrained mind.  there are a lot of twists and turns in my tangents and i continue to strive for cohesion and to lay thrulines that might create some sort of trajectory.  i am also feeding appropriate musings into a couple book ideas for now.  we'll see what comes of this unfocused alien muse, striving to become a paid and published business woman.  director seeks direction.  lover and lyricist seeking leadership in the bedroom and the boardroom.  for now, another xinaphile:

mormons, muslims and mayans!  oh my!

well, the creaking was a false alarm and a week of insomnia was finally followed by an amazing night of rest last night. i think it could have something to do with sleeping in my bedroom. sleeping in a bed is a necessary luxury at my age. i'm coming to terms with that fact. going from a queen to a double is acceptable, as it was done for the right reasons. when we leave this home behind my top priority will be purchasing a king. that's also acceptable. my top priorities here are a fire pan for the yard and a new blender. it's all about evolution. what hasn't been acceptable is sleeping in a room that still has scores of boxes to go through. as always, it's the last domain to be addressed. it was however, the most boss room in the house after i finished decorating the old house.

there has been lots of progress this week and spirits are as high as they've been since the first few days of the year. put up shelves in the bathroom, took stuff to the basement, hung curtains in the den, took more stuff to the basement. definitely need to have a yard sale this spring. the biggest lift of the week was after about six months of reading and discussion and a month or so of interviews and waiting for testing, joshua has finally begun testing for autism spectrum disorder, formerly called asperger's syndrome. it has been a struggle the last year to not understand my child and then to accept that i could have not recognized something that i thought i knew something about, existing in my own child. none of the symptoms i could have recognized appeared as points of concern, but as points of interest. there had been no unbearable challenges until i started to force structure into our schooling the last year and a half. everything that i should have recognized as a symptom just seemed like a welcome, weird phenomenon of his development. it wasn't until the last year that i realized some of his patterns should have been outgrown by now. it has been a period of heightened awareness these last six months, working to acknowledge how consumed i have been in unearthing my own mental imbalances and idiosyncracies since joshua's birth almost nine years ago that i feel like i overlooked the extent of some of his. it has been quite a journey and i am so thankful that i am present and emotionally stable to support joshua's transition into becoming a fully realized young man. he has blossomed in the process of self-awareness and coming to understand his own complex matrix of existence. we have another day of testing tomorrow and hopefully by next week will have a course of action planned to educate ourselves and get help with some of the more challenging issues. we won't be able to participate in full time therapy or workshops at olsen huff until summer but are thankful for all the great folks at the grandiss center. joshua loves dr. jill.

today he said "mom, what hoops did you have to jump through today?" i thought this was pretty funny. "none really. today was all about rest. not every day demands hoops." "but some days have a lot of them." there was a bit of silence as i absorbed his grown up tone and demeanor. then he added, "i think that should be the title of your autobiography - How I Became a Cirkus Phreak. 'k' and a 'ph', of course." i told him it could easily be the title of his autobiography as well. that's my boy. planning ahead. thinking big. spelling things wrong with profound intention. today he aced a spelling test that included the words censorship, democracy and revolution. when i asked him yesterday if he would like to call his grandmother he said, "if she's not speaking to you, i don't need to speak to her. until she and brother can accept us like we are and choose to spend time with us, it's just you and me i guess." heartbreaking, but incredibly mature and insightful. i told him we should pray for them and have faith that they could learn to accept us and appreciate us as we continue to learn and grow. so we prayed for our whole family - even the ones he doesn't know - it was nice. today both his grandmother and his brother called. ian is coming over tomorrow. i like to call it the power of positivity. aka: the fruit of forgiveness. aka: fostering the faith. aka: hailing the hope. aka: living the love. sorry, i'm been so burned out on the "aka" lately i just had to get that out of my system. you know, take it over the top so to speak.

another great joshua tale: today he says we should make a book about idioms called "over the big top" and we can teach an idiom on every page that we would use on tour, like "let's get this show on the road" when we're packing up the buses and then "it's all downhill from here" once we're set up and the performers are getting dressed up to perform and then "break a leg" when the show's about to begin. he's awesome. the idiom book is definitely on the calendar for next week. right now i'm just hoping his martin luther king jr. research paper gets finished by this weekend. today he did a two page journal entry on why homeschooling is important to him because he wasn't motivated to work on his writing assignment for the week. tomorrow i expect him to dive in. one of the things he wrote in the paper was "not doing my schoolwork teaches me karma because there's always consequences." that made me laugh.

karma works. it works to teach you, to re.mind the movement of the matrix. it works on your mind, body and soul and is delivered by your spirit. karma rocks. bad karma rocks the foundation when established illusions need to be rebuilt. good karma rocks like the radio hit that saved your life in 7th grade. it rocks the free world into leading the way and the oppressors into submission. it rocks like the first time your orange crush touched the small of your back or the last time you made love to led zeppelin. karma rings and reigns and rules, like wedding bells and love and royalty. it swims like the love child of aquaman and curious george, seeking treasure in the deep, singing booty in your sleep.... just another dream team, raising dragons on a green submarine. the times they are a changin' while the lines are rearrangin'....

which brings me to the mormans, muslims and mayans. oh my. i left facebook recently and realized my joking around about facebook being my source for news and what's happening in my community and the world is actually true. with the free cable, i have a little cnn action that's questionable but appreciated and a lot of overprocessed drivel. that said, i have such a low tolerance for commercials that the fascination of the television has already worn off. thank god. i also let netflix go when homeless, so that's that. boob tube not required. i have been listening to the river (my record player is broken and the cd's must be in the boxes left filling my closet) which is fairly informative. they play npr news in the morning and the commercials are atleast mostly local. all of that graciously acknowledged, i was reminded by an old, dear friend this week that apparently in all the hub.bub of 1999 my response in cocktail conversations was that nothing eventful or devastating was going to happen in the next few years other than we should be celebrating the turn of the century, but that when 2012 arrived i was going to bunker down and be very, very quiet. i don't even remember that, but it doesn't surprise me that i felt that way. i don't even remember being that aware of the mayan calendar until sound tribe sector 9 arrived in my world, but i guess i had some minimal knowledge from visiting mayan ruins and studying several ancient civilizations in the summer of 1992. she told me this in response to me saying i was taking 2012 off from facebook that maybe i'd come back in 2013. i doubt i'll stay off that long. it's tempting to go back, but it's not worth the hassle of censoring myself for my mother. until i can get her to understand that if she cannot accept me for the outspoken, foul mouthed bitch that i occasionally am and understand that i will never censor myself around sexual issues, as i believe sexual matters should be as open and normal as other bodily functions of survival, she really has to not be friends with me on facebook or go to my page, as i refuse to make it private. i went private for a couple weeks the first time i had to defriend her (this summer) and it felt like it went against everything i believe in regarding transparency and censorship. it also defeated any sense of using social networking as a marketing tool - which is basically what it is. so whether it be for the sanity of my mother, or to create more time to contemplate mayan prophecy, i will maintain a safe distance from facebook and possibly explore the possibilities of my twitter and linked.in accounts. mainly i will continue to appreciate the phone calls i've been getting from people seeking facetime, since i'm currently not facehookin'. yay facetime. i miss yer face.

so, as it often is in the land of oz, habits are trending and one reclusive move begets another. with the onslaught of political pawns dancing around on puppet strings offering nine months of comedic overkill when what we really need are more revolutionaries, i'd rather be growing a baby. that said, the reality that i could be seven months pregnant right now is mind boggling. the idea of facing a third child with no paternal support is devastating and reminds me why i am thankful to be the woman i am. independent and free, although slightly overwhelmed. i find myself pulling the proverbial covers over my eyes and wishing for a bear to come fill my cave with anything but religion, capitalist illusion or illusory policy reform. as excited as i was about this political season the last few years, the last few months have done nothing but pull the curtain back on the whole sham. the emerald city is crumbling. seeking hairy, jim carey with eyes that mesmerize and thighs that fantasize to watch the fireworks through my picture window. an obsession for the music industry, music history and music trivia preferred. the ability to make love with sound also a plus. no mormans, no muslims and no mayans need apply. that said - being spiritually minded is mandatory. a freemason could own my world. you can't make sexual magick without the gods. god sized hole. goddess approved.

bon anniversaire

today i reflect on holidays in general.  out of curiosity, educator of the cat, i came to visit my blog to discover that it had been exactly three months since i last published.  there were many drafts, most of which i just deleted into technological oblivion.  it has been quite a few months.

highlights included recognizing the end of the line as a hoarder and purging over half of my belongings, chopping over two feet of hair off (collectively through four haircuts, both the first and last given to myself, by myself) and singing in the wedding of a couple i considered to be cherished and close friends, who i haven't heard from since. 

yesterday was thanksgiving - a holiday i have no respect for and can't, for the life of me, understand why people still celebrate.  that said, i was wishing for the opportunity to gather with friends or family and give thanks.  as i attempt to live every day in a heightened state of graciousness, i found it ironic that for a variety of challenging moments yesterday, i was bitterly disappointed and biblically covetous.  the programming of my upbringing often leaves me feeling rather lonely on holidays that don't really compute with my adult belief systems and yesterday i was beside myself with longing for my sons to be together.  due to losing our house, they haven't seen eachother in almost seven weeks.  they have never been apart for more than two weeks since joshua was born.  i would have given anything for a place to bring them together in asheville this week, but am thankful we will have a new home together soon.

christmas has a similar feel, although the act of giving gifts makes all types of confusion more bearable.  i am looking forward to having a live tree again this year, my favorite shared tradition of christmas and solstice, that will fill our new home with the piney scent of the surrounding woods.  combined with cinnamon, nutmeg and apple cider brewing on the stove i can spend several weeks swimming in the fondest of my childhood memories.  i am looking forward to the next month of baking and crafting with the children in my life and manifesting a good man to rock in the new year with.

i enjoy the pagan holidays with their unassuming rituals and lack of mandate the most.  i appreciate cultural traditions that bear no judgement and leave room for creativity.  i am most thankful that we have a home to celebrate solstice in next month and look forward to this winter bringing a deeper understanding of myself and a more balanced approach to my environment.  i welcome the opportunity to practice my social skills while pushing myself to practice and perform more in the coming year.  from solstice to imbolc i will be constructing the bouyant foundation necessary to surf into the new world.

this time a year ago i was planning my 40th birthday party and falling head over heels in love with one my oldest and dearest friends.  he  disappeared more quickly than he manifested and left me broken and confused.  i allowed myself to fall deeper into the confines of being a mistress while fabricating elaborate excuses for my behavior.  the summer provided two flights of fancy to fondle my fragile mind.  not one, but two hustlers, reflecting my own distorted views of companionship and loyalty.  one man, my age, who turned my world upside down for two weeks leading up to independence day and then disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.  he allowed me the perspective of becoming professionally proactive without the burden of financial concern.  independence, in deed!  that, and the seemingly endless orgasm of our physical relationship, were phenomenal gifts.  his disappearance also pointed out the fact that i am susceptable to playing the blind fool.  this awareness was immediately tested by the touch of the second hustler, under which i was quickly branded a failure, once again.  hopefully, i have since extinguished any willingness to play the fool.  or the town crier.  or the clown.  damn that warren haynes song and the deeply penetrating influence of one dead-but-risen relationship with one ever-attentive piedmont man.  i must have sang it, and believed it, one too many times.  "and i'll be the one that used to worship you...."

the significance of the second hustler, and the inspiration for writing about holidays, is that the submarine window of time we were interwoven, 8 hours, was on the anniversary of my marraige 17 years earlier.  (17 ~ 8)  it was also a shocking and unexpected union after having taken an intense and varied interest in said hustler 8 months earlier.  since it had never occured to me he would take a sexual interest in me, my fantasy had been to write and record an album with him.  i was calling it "gem.in.eyes".  in the days before we came together physically i was working up a proposal to get involved with him professionally as a booking agent, promoter and/or choreograper.  tragically, instead, we shared a bed.  it was over the subsequent aftermath of confusion and disconnect i learned that this man had given up celebrating holidays for his intimate partner.  no birthdays.  not hers.  not his.  no anniversary of their love.  no remembrance of st. valentine.  no day of the dead, with all it's sane significance in his story.  this was unfathomable to me, the holiday girl of yore.  what i eventually realized is that many people give things up for love.  same sex friendships, career aspirations, favorite pieces of furniture, holiday orgies and even the celebration of the anniversary of the consummation of that love.  instead of seeking the love that gives without end, many settle for companionship in it's most comfortable form and give up what is deemed necessary to maintain that illusion of security.  god, i decreed, don't let that be me.

so today i remind myself that every day i wake up is a reason to celebrate.  that you don't need the name holiday to find a reason to gather and toast to life.  that denying any reason to celebrate is an invitation into the darker side of existence.  that there should be no excuse to commemorate the mistakes, failures and incarcerations of life - especially by denying those dates that remind us we are good and that we have found other sources of goodness.  the day someone makes you feel undeniable love is a day to be remembered.  a day when someone professes their love to you or claims you are an inspiration to love or makes a commitment to love you....all of these shall be celebrated. 

today i remind myself that there is no need for shame in maintaining any existence.  just as there is no call for pride.  that appearing hidden is to hide.  that when i am called to love, i will love unconditionally and without fear.  that as sure as i'm born and feel your breath on my ear, your presence is near.

the captain of my cruise will knock on my door.  he will show me what our love is for.  he will take me to the stage from the dance floor and we will travel the world on tour.  of all this, i am sure.

happy birthday.
you are love(d).

silence

when i finally let myself start typing i was writing every day.  it felt good - getting the bile out of my brain.  call it kvetching, bitching, venting or processing - it's all because some things have to be purged.  the primary result of my purge, other than the immediate feel of release - letting the cat out of the bag is very freeing, was that my mother cut communication (see previous post "have i told you lately that i love you?").  i have wondered if i should still wait to publish the writing i've been working on for several years that are actually about my abuse.  if she grew so defensive of the man who took custody of my son, how would she react to statements about her family?  about her.

i have silenced myself again, because she doesn't deserve my truth right now.  not to mention, she can't handle the truth.  obviously.  she never has been able to - striving for the norman rockwell moments in life, she seems to have natural blinders to the hard stuff.  sometimes i wish i had them, so i could plough through the responsibilities of adulthood and parenting.  i wish i hadn't broken my fingernails trying to claw hers off her face.  but she just keeps rebuilding that crystal palace where things don't get dirty and voices don't get raised.  maybe children don't get molested there anymore either.  one can hope.

i am in my cave.  i am alone here, except for the child.  the child i focus each day to protect from the world at large.  sometimes by denying us both that world - but i don't think it misses us.  we are the ones missing out, but i tell myself it will be safe soon.  or someone will come to guide us.  to protect us.  someone will come to raise me, so that i might better raise him.  someone will come. 

and then the silence will end.  and we will hear music again.
we will dance.

peaceful easy feelings

it has been a transitional month to say the least.  some of the deepest healing work i've done since february/march and feel all the taller for it.  many life things have developed in the last week and although this blog has no true theme or thruline as i write it, mostly for myself - i mean who else is reading it anyways, it's a time to reflect and process.  certainly sometimes a very healing purge.

i am constantly reminded, as we enter a significant election year this autumn, of the variance of beliefs and opinions found in our small community of music and art minded folks.  not everyone believes in unity.  in my experience, not even all those who promote the concept of unity live by it's standards.  while i love sport, i don't believe in competition.  i believe there is room for everyone at the table.  i believe in balance and inclusion and equality, which all support the concept of unity.  the human race is the solitary race.  any dissent that doesn't include thought-provoking, rational debate is simply spew - fear is debilitating. 

the above sentiments encapsulate all three things on my mind this evening.  one is the upcoming presidential race and the social and performance politics that will come up in our village.  it is a time ripe for music and art as a primary tool.  i hope the creative masses of asheville will not be afraid to step out and step up.  act up.  activate change.  i hope that my own fear won't keep me in a box.

i am also thick in a mental aftermath of a night which included too many crowns and being forced into unexpected treats.  that is not a complaint by any means.  i was thankful for the opportunity to get out.  to hang out with a man i love and respect.  i was also incredibly thankful for the agreement to not hang out at one stop and go down the street to.... well, anywhere but the onestop.  it's a lovely place - especially the floor - and the sound is fine for the space and there are always lots of good people there, but i don't need to invite drama into my life, and when someone clearly doesn't like you it seems stupid to hang out at their establishment.  so, my dear man accommodated my need for speed and we sped away into that good night.  i was blessed to see some of my favorite women watching the screaming j's and thankful for a few drinks with good people.

at that point, i'm sure we should have gone home but i was outvoted 3-1 and returned to the onestop.  fully prepared to be asked to leave.  but adults behaved like adults and somehow we were there long enough for a few more drinks.  in rare form, i lost count.  i will cosmically thank the management for allowing me to be present.  i had a great time and was gracious, as always, to watch some of my favorite musicians funk it up.  mr.'s bjorlie, knorr, hovey, mason and more.  it had been way too long since i'd heard an instrument being played live, other than my plunking away on mine.  which is so not the same thing.  oh, for the day when i can sing while they play ((((((O))))))

i only feel a smirk of what can't even be described as guilt for loving another woman's man.  the feeling is like a suspension of disbelief - and guilt, well what is that anyway - more negative judgement that in my god's name must be declared unnecessary.  this feeling of appreciation is only slightly tainted by the illusion of our ability to be together.  except there is no illusion.  we are honest with eachother and when we're together, we are together.  what of those around us, that judge me for loving you and judge you for betraying her?  i wish i cared more for their projections but i just cast them back as reflections.  it confuses me but it doesn't upset me. 

if only your sordid tales of swinging didn't taint the spiritual objectives of a more puritan concept of the open relationship.  if only you would approach the topic with her.  discretion is not ill advised, but certainly goes against the grain conceptually.  which is why people who label themselves swingers can sometimes be so painfully outspoken.  my hypocrisy knows no bounds, but i'm painfully outspoken for different reasons.  one of them is because i find it difficult to trust people who are so very good at keeping secrets.

another big shift that occured this week is that mark griffith switched his alias to his real name on facebook and one of joshua's random searches last week brought them book to book.  he sent him a friend request and wrote him an email and has been patiently checking only once a day.  he seems content with the finding.  "even if he doesn't respond, atleast i can find him there".  joshua doesn't know what blocking is, hopefully neither does his father.  my greatest prayer is that he will reach out to him there.  i hope every day is the day he knocks on the door and introduces himself.

so in flight tonight, we unify.  i am spending a decent percentage of my days right now in meditation and psychic connection.  it is a time to be vigilent with the tools that keep you whole and connected.  to your body, your gods, your people, your world at large and the oneness of the human race.  it is a time of death and growth simultaneously in every given moment.  we must embrace these changes in order to outgrow them.  the next year is an incredibly important time to activate your deepest desires and to share your greatest visions.  i recommend you watch your volume and enthusiasm in public, hang with people who get it and moderate your substances.  love.  peace.  unity.

all situations fixed.