There is something that happens when Spirit takes over, it starts with a sound, then a stirring of a particular emotion, and then it is repeated and emphasized unitl those present start feeling the same thing or something... IN the morning @ 3 minutes into this starts just that!!!!! Annointed and late Albertina Walker, may she inspire more to sing like her and turn away from the filth and rubbish of most modern day music.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
To the lost family members
I am always astonished at how we can connect to people, as people, to such deep levels. The depths of which no one will understand. High Valley is some secret place between the veils of this world, where you get away and you let go a bit share just in order to partake and receive what comes willingly and more importantly naturally.
T. Dillinger- Oh your weary soles how they do ache. The spurs of your heels, the curve of your toes, the arch of your feet that already know the tough road they walk barefoot. You walk the hard road no one wants to acknowledge, you walked this path many lifetimes before. Of course your feet are tired. Must Angels always fly, when they have to good feet? There mission doesn't change, their gifts do not change they are sent here to do what they do in the only way they know how to do it. Letting God work through them, they are of God why not do the work God sent them to do. Like most jobs they don't have to like it, and they may not even have to get it. They still have to do it. You will walk until your feet are worn until your socks come away at the seams. You will walk until the jagged rocks on that road you walk shed some of your blood, but where those drops stained life, inspiration, encouragement will grow. WHO said your job is for you? Who said your job bright some sense of self satisfaction? It is never that easy. You teach, and you share, and you minister, and you heal, you comfort and you entertain.. and at the end of the day you realized your feet still hurt. No rest comes now, because you walking in your right path. Soon your bare feet will touch the soft grass of the place that calls to you. The land will once again reconnect with you and the vines and leafy foliage will wrap around you in that moment and secure you in place and you will become a still monument. No need to walk or move, your work is done, your journey ended, your feet found home. Rest is your accomplishment, your restitution for the many lives you have touched and the walking you have done in paths others may now dare to walk.
E. Cunnigham/D. Smyth- You tell the stories of countless women who had no voice. The daughter, the mother, the grandmother, the bride.... the whore. You tell the stories of greatness one can achieve through adversity, but most of all Love. You allowed yourself and your husband to feel that which is closest to you to grow in an environment and lush and as green as the woods you live in. You have produced family and community in a world where people seek to find such things. Like minded people are hard to find, open minded people are even harder. They exist though by a creek in an old house where stories are told, 3 large felines stand guard, toast & omelette's are made, coffee and wine bring fellowship like no other. Wisdom comes forth in many conversation's and you realize your work is never done as well, your both still touching people in ways that no price tag, expensive gift or winning lotto ticket could ever attempt. You two become the eternal friend, the eternal parents, the eternal flames. Always bright, always shining, always providing a glimmer of peace and hope in the darkest of moods and times.
T. Dillinger- Oh your weary soles how they do ache. The spurs of your heels, the curve of your toes, the arch of your feet that already know the tough road they walk barefoot. You walk the hard road no one wants to acknowledge, you walked this path many lifetimes before. Of course your feet are tired. Must Angels always fly, when they have to good feet? There mission doesn't change, their gifts do not change they are sent here to do what they do in the only way they know how to do it. Letting God work through them, they are of God why not do the work God sent them to do. Like most jobs they don't have to like it, and they may not even have to get it. They still have to do it. You will walk until your feet are worn until your socks come away at the seams. You will walk until the jagged rocks on that road you walk shed some of your blood, but where those drops stained life, inspiration, encouragement will grow. WHO said your job is for you? Who said your job bright some sense of self satisfaction? It is never that easy. You teach, and you share, and you minister, and you heal, you comfort and you entertain.. and at the end of the day you realized your feet still hurt. No rest comes now, because you walking in your right path. Soon your bare feet will touch the soft grass of the place that calls to you. The land will once again reconnect with you and the vines and leafy foliage will wrap around you in that moment and secure you in place and you will become a still monument. No need to walk or move, your work is done, your journey ended, your feet found home. Rest is your accomplishment, your restitution for the many lives you have touched and the walking you have done in paths others may now dare to walk.
E. Cunnigham/D. Smyth- You tell the stories of countless women who had no voice. The daughter, the mother, the grandmother, the bride.... the whore. You tell the stories of greatness one can achieve through adversity, but most of all Love. You allowed yourself and your husband to feel that which is closest to you to grow in an environment and lush and as green as the woods you live in. You have produced family and community in a world where people seek to find such things. Like minded people are hard to find, open minded people are even harder. They exist though by a creek in an old house where stories are told, 3 large felines stand guard, toast & omelette's are made, coffee and wine bring fellowship like no other. Wisdom comes forth in many conversation's and you realize your work is never done as well, your both still touching people in ways that no price tag, expensive gift or winning lotto ticket could ever attempt. You two become the eternal friend, the eternal parents, the eternal flames. Always bright, always shining, always providing a glimmer of peace and hope in the darkest of moods and times.
Destiny- Where do I start?! Eyes painted and pretty before make up touches them. Eyes that appear to have seen too much, know things most her age do not, she might have observed
and saw past the mundane, the ordinary, and the plain. Words are your closest friends, little fey folk that fly to your person only to have you shape them into magical stories and illusion's. Painting pictured with a voice seasoned with even cool refreshing tones that burst like fire crackers when you belt into your chest. You are a dazzling mirage of dancing gypsies, butterfly flutters, raven and dove wings, Native American spirituality in its flesh healing, ancient and wise a feather and flower in your hair signifying a perfect marriage between earth and air. A smile that aches for one who has had to smile for so long when their eyes were teetering with tears like a levy in a storm. Your mother and father, your grandparents and sibling all rods that were thrown into the fire and beaten, meted, tempered into fine pieces of art. Talents the blood wields, heritage the voices echo, before and past your time all at once.... Nostalgia and expectation of things to come. Your ministry is in your Story telling not too different than one who once multiplied bread and fish for many hungry souls. The world is ready and hungry for what you may multiply and make many. Share your gifts, forever be encouraged.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
My Journey to Cuba 2010
I sat in penitencia.... Quiet, pensive, thinking about my road here. I am trying to concentrate but the Oba singing behind me and the answer of the people who are singing back to him, is really singing to my Soul and my Spirit. The call and response is amazing, its pristine and clear like a symphony of horns in unison yet somehow harmonic. These are songs that have been song countless times and can all be traced to THE Motherland, Africa.
I chose this road of Lucumi, Ocha, Santo. It called to me and I answered. My answer took 5 years but I came steadily, taking my time to learn to see to experience what I could until the right opportunity arose. I read countless people and gave them spiritual advice, I cleaned some and helped others and took small monetary donations in order to help me reach my goal.
Just a day before me sitting in the corner and enduring penitencia, I was presented to the clearest most room temp water. It flowed wonderfully and steady, it refreshed me just stepping in it cool waters, I felt the loving presence of a mother wrap around me like a swirling breeze. I carried back with me a part of that river for a memento, I felt like I carried some secret hidden joy from a beautiful place that only I knew.
I was washed, I was cleaned, the old essence of me ripped from my body I was sat down and I had my eyes shut for all of it. I trusted these people who sang these songs of Mother Africa, I trusted these people who chanted and prayed over me, laid soothing and loving hands on me. They prepared my way, the way of my rebirth and I was grateful because I knew in moments I would be reborn and I would live my adult life very differently.
I felt my head being combed, I felt pieces being cut and with it the WEIGHT of every sorrow, injustice, stressful situation, obstacle, and set back. Every emotion tied to those things bubbled forth and up, I cried and let go a mighty sigh and wail of relief. I cried for things I did, things that were done to me, I cried for those more fortunate than I and those less fortunate than I. I cried and I cried and I cried. I couldn't stop, I was patted here and there, gestures of sympathy as those who cut my hair once sat in the same position as I and had their own ultimate release. This was the work of God, the work of a Divine power to be released of so much so suddenly.... and all I had to do was let go and let it all GO.
I saw my Grandmothers, Great Grandmother, a grandfather, two grand uncles and some other family members I knew were family members but i had never formally met, they lined up and thanked me for completing something in my ancestral line that others started but never finished. More tears I was over come with humility and graciousness.
After the last tears shed and my fresh bald head and scalp felt the breeze of a once familiar wind, I shook with a chill. A chill that started from the top of my head, down my arms into my stomach and from there to my toes. I heard a laugh come from my lips, but it wasn't mine. I swooned as a fresh new feeling came over me, I felt happy and my tears of release became new tears of Joy I was coming into this world again and I felt the most joyous feeling I have ever felt. If you can imagine your first birthday present, Xmas gift or something you wanted for so long that was placed in front of you and given to you... a child, a hand in marriage... this was that to the tenth power. I felt an overwhelming JOY and happiness that can only be summed up in one word, and name Ochun.
People lined up presented and introduced themselves to me by way of their names and their spiritual names. They each placed hands on my head and told me what God and Orisha had did for them and they proceeded to wish me all the blessings in the world. This was too much for me to handle especially when I heard the familiar voices of My Godfather/Mentor and friend, his partner my Yibona, My godsister, and My Padrinos mother. Their well wishes amongst all those that I didn't know made me feel so grateful and appreciative of my existence and this tradition.
I felt every emotion at once, and yet my head couldn't wrap around all the variety of sentiments that ran through me.... I slipped in and out of consciousness.... I felt the greatest urge to stand up and dance and laugh.... then I came to and I heard people singing and I felt a small weight on my head, my eyes were closed but I felt something being channelled through me... I slipped in and out of consciousness as Spirit took over and my mother got near... I felt an amazing feeling that in no sacrilegious way can only be described as the moment right before one orgasms and releases. This feeling of euphoria enveloped me like a blanket and head wrap and my feet got cold as if i was standing in water and I wanted to reach out into the water at my feet and wash myself in it, but I knew I would find none there.
I was then walked and led to a room and when I opened my eyes a special place was prepared for me to lay my head and meditate on what just happened to me. It was strewn with Yellows and whites and oranges and it felt like home. As I sat down on a special yet uncomfortable seat meant for me, I couldn't quite get my emotions together and It wasn't until I left the beautiful island of Cuba, that I got a grip on some emotions. Some new, some pending, my out look was different though. I was at peace with my environment and myself, I was optimistic something foreign for me prior to my visit. I found love in various forms and as I left this Island, I felt I left a piece of myself there.
I am forever indebted to the beautiful souls who helped me along this road and journey.
Omi Lari, Omi Lana, Eshu Dina, Omi Dina, Oba Chango dina, Oba Nini, Oba Oscar, Ibu Folosade, Eshu Nike and last but not least Eshu Afefere iku and Anthony.
Because of you Eni Osun- Blessed/Beloved Child of Ochun was born. My eternal gratitude!
I chose this road of Lucumi, Ocha, Santo. It called to me and I answered. My answer took 5 years but I came steadily, taking my time to learn to see to experience what I could until the right opportunity arose. I read countless people and gave them spiritual advice, I cleaned some and helped others and took small monetary donations in order to help me reach my goal.
Just a day before me sitting in the corner and enduring penitencia, I was presented to the clearest most room temp water. It flowed wonderfully and steady, it refreshed me just stepping in it cool waters, I felt the loving presence of a mother wrap around me like a swirling breeze. I carried back with me a part of that river for a memento, I felt like I carried some secret hidden joy from a beautiful place that only I knew.
I was washed, I was cleaned, the old essence of me ripped from my body I was sat down and I had my eyes shut for all of it. I trusted these people who sang these songs of Mother Africa, I trusted these people who chanted and prayed over me, laid soothing and loving hands on me. They prepared my way, the way of my rebirth and I was grateful because I knew in moments I would be reborn and I would live my adult life very differently.
I felt my head being combed, I felt pieces being cut and with it the WEIGHT of every sorrow, injustice, stressful situation, obstacle, and set back. Every emotion tied to those things bubbled forth and up, I cried and let go a mighty sigh and wail of relief. I cried for things I did, things that were done to me, I cried for those more fortunate than I and those less fortunate than I. I cried and I cried and I cried. I couldn't stop, I was patted here and there, gestures of sympathy as those who cut my hair once sat in the same position as I and had their own ultimate release. This was the work of God, the work of a Divine power to be released of so much so suddenly.... and all I had to do was let go and let it all GO.
I saw my Grandmothers, Great Grandmother, a grandfather, two grand uncles and some other family members I knew were family members but i had never formally met, they lined up and thanked me for completing something in my ancestral line that others started but never finished. More tears I was over come with humility and graciousness.
After the last tears shed and my fresh bald head and scalp felt the breeze of a once familiar wind, I shook with a chill. A chill that started from the top of my head, down my arms into my stomach and from there to my toes. I heard a laugh come from my lips, but it wasn't mine. I swooned as a fresh new feeling came over me, I felt happy and my tears of release became new tears of Joy I was coming into this world again and I felt the most joyous feeling I have ever felt. If you can imagine your first birthday present, Xmas gift or something you wanted for so long that was placed in front of you and given to you... a child, a hand in marriage... this was that to the tenth power. I felt an overwhelming JOY and happiness that can only be summed up in one word, and name Ochun.
People lined up presented and introduced themselves to me by way of their names and their spiritual names. They each placed hands on my head and told me what God and Orisha had did for them and they proceeded to wish me all the blessings in the world. This was too much for me to handle especially when I heard the familiar voices of My Godfather/Mentor and friend, his partner my Yibona, My godsister, and My Padrinos mother. Their well wishes amongst all those that I didn't know made me feel so grateful and appreciative of my existence and this tradition.
I felt every emotion at once, and yet my head couldn't wrap around all the variety of sentiments that ran through me.... I slipped in and out of consciousness.... I felt the greatest urge to stand up and dance and laugh.... then I came to and I heard people singing and I felt a small weight on my head, my eyes were closed but I felt something being channelled through me... I slipped in and out of consciousness as Spirit took over and my mother got near... I felt an amazing feeling that in no sacrilegious way can only be described as the moment right before one orgasms and releases. This feeling of euphoria enveloped me like a blanket and head wrap and my feet got cold as if i was standing in water and I wanted to reach out into the water at my feet and wash myself in it, but I knew I would find none there.
I was then walked and led to a room and when I opened my eyes a special place was prepared for me to lay my head and meditate on what just happened to me. It was strewn with Yellows and whites and oranges and it felt like home. As I sat down on a special yet uncomfortable seat meant for me, I couldn't quite get my emotions together and It wasn't until I left the beautiful island of Cuba, that I got a grip on some emotions. Some new, some pending, my out look was different though. I was at peace with my environment and myself, I was optimistic something foreign for me prior to my visit. I found love in various forms and as I left this Island, I felt I left a piece of myself there.
I am forever indebted to the beautiful souls who helped me along this road and journey.
Omi Lari, Omi Lana, Eshu Dina, Omi Dina, Oba Chango dina, Oba Nini, Oba Oscar, Ibu Folosade, Eshu Nike and last but not least Eshu Afefere iku and Anthony.
Because of you Eni Osun- Blessed/Beloved Child of Ochun was born. My eternal gratitude!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
I am so grateful and amazed
I stand on stage with some of the most talented people I have ever encountered. I get to witness and experience some of the most beautiful and most important gift of the spirit.
I get to spend time with Elizabeth Cunningham who with her amazing gift and paint the clearest pictures, and channel the most antiquated stories with vivid detail and flare. She weaves these amazing stories with all the expert skill and intricate detail of the most talented of artist, writers, poets, bards of old. I am in awe she allows me a place in her heart, home, and space.
I get the wonderful privilege of singing with Tim Dillinger one of the most amazing artist I have ever encountered. I learn so much standing next to him, basking in his many talents and presence listening to his Platinum pipes and taking in all that he conjures. Its mother Africa, Its Celtic drummings and fey mounds, its spirit. He knows how to tap into a place and stir up feelings in all who have the ability to listen. In fact a deaf person could here the transcendent feeling and sound he is able to channel. Its a gift to be able to relinquish control and let spirit manifest, one I am still working on.
I get to sing with Kare whose ability to make you pay attention to the most simplest of lyrics by way of his unique ability to transmute authority. He makes you listen with his voice, a voice textured with the elements. Its impossible to not pay attention when he opens his mouth and his soul and bares it all in order to make you understand his intent or the content of his song. He knows the art and concept of dynamics and can make you consider your present situation in order to heal or address.
Ron Gilmore who with a few would be simple key strokes is able to bring down a heavenly and Divine presence that makes people forget. Sometimes we need something to remind us of a time when we could just forget, our current bills, problems, obstacles, past situations but remember the Nostalgia of every good thing we ever experienced. Anointed is his destiny, his gift and his mark displayed artfully across his wrist.
I get to share a stage with these magnificent people, they consider me a peer. Its almost flattering and surreal. I am grateful, to share, to DO with these amazing people.
Thank you Universe, Thank you God and Goddess!
I get to spend time with Elizabeth Cunningham who with her amazing gift and paint the clearest pictures, and channel the most antiquated stories with vivid detail and flare. She weaves these amazing stories with all the expert skill and intricate detail of the most talented of artist, writers, poets, bards of old. I am in awe she allows me a place in her heart, home, and space.
I get the wonderful privilege of singing with Tim Dillinger one of the most amazing artist I have ever encountered. I learn so much standing next to him, basking in his many talents and presence listening to his Platinum pipes and taking in all that he conjures. Its mother Africa, Its Celtic drummings and fey mounds, its spirit. He knows how to tap into a place and stir up feelings in all who have the ability to listen. In fact a deaf person could here the transcendent feeling and sound he is able to channel. Its a gift to be able to relinquish control and let spirit manifest, one I am still working on.
I get to sing with Kare whose ability to make you pay attention to the most simplest of lyrics by way of his unique ability to transmute authority. He makes you listen with his voice, a voice textured with the elements. Its impossible to not pay attention when he opens his mouth and his soul and bares it all in order to make you understand his intent or the content of his song. He knows the art and concept of dynamics and can make you consider your present situation in order to heal or address.
Ron Gilmore who with a few would be simple key strokes is able to bring down a heavenly and Divine presence that makes people forget. Sometimes we need something to remind us of a time when we could just forget, our current bills, problems, obstacles, past situations but remember the Nostalgia of every good thing we ever experienced. Anointed is his destiny, his gift and his mark displayed artfully across his wrist.
I get to share a stage with these magnificent people, they consider me a peer. Its almost flattering and surreal. I am grateful, to share, to DO with these amazing people.
Thank you Universe, Thank you God and Goddess!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Woke up this morning with these images
The Tree, A Tree, Roots bark, Branches, foliage and everything else associated. I wondered why I woke up with this on my head, in my minds eye in the middle of my restless night.
The tree is used extensively throughout many cultures as a spiritual symbol.
In Christianity the Oak tree, the Yew tree amongst others were talked about often. Angels appearing under trees (Judges), the tree of Knowledge (Genesis), Tree of life (Revelations) as well as the Kabbalah. Totem poles were carved into trees to symbolize sacred nature.
According to a dissertation by Tim Patridge, "Yew Trees and their interrelationship with man", "Trees are natures gladiator, who despite great imbalance in odds, fights to keep a foot hold in the most extreme conditions. This strength is one of the characteristics that have led to the symbolic use of trees. The tree has three parts in terms of symbolism ---- Roots, Trunk, and Branches."
It made me think of us in life or in our spiritual journey. We start out young and delicate, with such potential to soak up the nutrients of our environment. Our family/guardians/mentors provide us with the environment in which we grow. We all have access to the Sun, that higher source which we all seek out and reach for but never quite get to. That source that warms us from the inside and that we know is responsible somehow for our existence and or growth in many ways than one.
We reach to attain some level be it our full height/potential, or we are stifled by our environment and lack of warmth due to shady surroundings or factors around us.
The winds and seasons hit us in every way, whether we want it or not. Some days it rains and then pours upon us, others the heat is too much and we are not so sure we can make it, other times things get so gloomy and cold we think everything is sure to freeze and we will also. Yet somehow we manage to stay rooted in some belief, something we know or feel. Its our survival instinct, our will to live through out any struggle.
As we grow we become hardened, some get so hardened they petrify, others just form a thicker and rougher exterior in order to face the seasons of life and the effects of.
I believe that we all have to try to reach our full potential, find some spiritual core and root in that beautiful rich soil. As we grow above we grow below, are roots extend into our believes and go in many directions as does the everything else we do. Humans, trees, nature... changes it evolves and adapts or it dies out. So I encourage all to find something to root into, find a purpose and keep reaching for the stars no matter how far away they are and no matter how big you get, there is always room for growth. NO matter who may want to cut you down or use you for various reasons, you have the gift of growth and a chance to do so. Heal your chopped limbs and extensions all of which were given freely or taken from you. Grow something new in its place, never think you can touch the sky no matter how high you reach for it, because its the higher power that helps you grow. Its in you working, you have only but to open yourself up to it feel the power of that higher source that sun, let the photosynthesis occur in you. Let it manifest and make changes and natural reactions, let it feed not only your body but your spirit. No matter what storm is thrown your way you will always be ok if you take root. I can hear Dorothy Norwood talking about roots right now, in the ol School Boulevard medley. Your soil is your ancestors, your environment is your space 'Make it what it is" Reach out those branches and extend those roots.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
In the presence of the Divine
I have met so many people this year, so many wonderful souls I have feel kindred too. I know my mother who birthed me. A fiery women whose temper could only be matched by her awesome loving, maternal nature. Her name Means Soul in Latin her middle name means Moody, an awesome mix of fire and water. She fights and yet she soothes, the very source that burned you may be the one that bandages you.
I have met a woman who lives in a very special place, an internal one that harmonically coexist with this exterior world, we call reality. Her voice is Golden, sweet and high like a birds first time song to the coming of Spring. She sang and wrote with many and has a motto of "No fear here" and always laces her Brave new shoes to present her many gifts through art. Her spirit is encouraging and uplifting is her high energy.
I have met a Celtic warrior weather witching mother of two, but of many. She loves her grain alcohol and Dionysus blessed drinks. Her spirit is red headed, blazon strong and enigmatic, her name rhymes with cave and brave. This spirit is but one facet of this beautiful gem of a women who weaves her words into intricate art and pictures and who can break into song any minute and paint the picture just as clearly. Freedom is her way, 'Lets improvise is what she will always say.'
I have met a Mother who has no children in the flesh but many in the spirit. Her spirit is strong as an elephant and just as ancient. She knows nothing of the pretentious but only that of the true person, ones true self. Authenticity in every way, what you see is what you get and believe she KNOWS 'where the bones are buried!' No one can see the truth displayed so brilliantly and not love it in someway, because the brilliance only reflects what the true spirit knows.
Oh another Goddess but this one tames and yet openly embraces birds of Prey. Her energy is strength, freedom, wisdom, foresight, and survival. She tends to take on the role of nurturing mother to those that are so blatantly her peers. Her hands no the fruit of vines and craft them into liquid emotion. Feathers are her tools, her anatomy, her practice, healing is her way. I see her golden haired and comfortable, but she is so much more to the third eye. She is a tribe of her own, a Chieftain, a Shaman, the Hunter who never takes more than is needed, the healer, the seer and the friend. Her name taken from the Old English and Gaelic words that mean Lake, Waterfall, or pool, and probably would have been given to a family who lived by the water. This rings true to her name.
A Goddess whose head shines bare of free of hair but whose wisdom grows in its place. Words are her weapon, her tools, her craft. Only to be matched by her brilliant usage of complicated melodies this world is not accustomed too, but only the Angels know. I could almost hear her in the faintest whisper singing, 'Sister Sister friend of mine..." as it disappears and your goosebumps settle and disappear.
OH and the blessed of Guadalupe herself, blessed and anointed by Rosetta Tharpe patron saint of her house. Animals know peace and shelter at her dwelling as well as those that come in three. She only offers her shoulder and her words which come from a place far too deep to have been read or learned by books, these are ancient words of an old soul who have been here before. She is the Lily of the Valley, and the soothing spring ones go to in order to seek comfort and reflection.
I have met a woman who lives in a very special place, an internal one that harmonically coexist with this exterior world, we call reality. Her voice is Golden, sweet and high like a birds first time song to the coming of Spring. She sang and wrote with many and has a motto of "No fear here" and always laces her Brave new shoes to present her many gifts through art. Her spirit is encouraging and uplifting is her high energy.
I have met a Celtic warrior weather witching mother of two, but of many. She loves her grain alcohol and Dionysus blessed drinks. Her spirit is red headed, blazon strong and enigmatic, her name rhymes with cave and brave. This spirit is but one facet of this beautiful gem of a women who weaves her words into intricate art and pictures and who can break into song any minute and paint the picture just as clearly. Freedom is her way, 'Lets improvise is what she will always say.'
I have met a Mother who has no children in the flesh but many in the spirit. Her spirit is strong as an elephant and just as ancient. She knows nothing of the pretentious but only that of the true person, ones true self. Authenticity in every way, what you see is what you get and believe she KNOWS 'where the bones are buried!' No one can see the truth displayed so brilliantly and not love it in someway, because the brilliance only reflects what the true spirit knows.
Oh another Goddess but this one tames and yet openly embraces birds of Prey. Her energy is strength, freedom, wisdom, foresight, and survival. She tends to take on the role of nurturing mother to those that are so blatantly her peers. Her hands no the fruit of vines and craft them into liquid emotion. Feathers are her tools, her anatomy, her practice, healing is her way. I see her golden haired and comfortable, but she is so much more to the third eye. She is a tribe of her own, a Chieftain, a Shaman, the Hunter who never takes more than is needed, the healer, the seer and the friend. Her name taken from the Old English and Gaelic words that mean Lake, Waterfall, or pool, and probably would have been given to a family who lived by the water. This rings true to her name.
A Goddess whose head shines bare of free of hair but whose wisdom grows in its place. Words are her weapon, her tools, her craft. Only to be matched by her brilliant usage of complicated melodies this world is not accustomed too, but only the Angels know. I could almost hear her in the faintest whisper singing, 'Sister Sister friend of mine..." as it disappears and your goosebumps settle and disappear.
OH and the blessed of Guadalupe herself, blessed and anointed by Rosetta Tharpe patron saint of her house. Animals know peace and shelter at her dwelling as well as those that come in three. She only offers her shoulder and her words which come from a place far too deep to have been read or learned by books, these are ancient words of an old soul who have been here before. She is the Lily of the Valley, and the soothing spring ones go to in order to seek comfort and reflection.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Weekend
I just spent a weekend from which I don't want to recover from. I wanted to stay with my family. Family is not always a blood relation, sometimes connections of the spirit will speak as strong if not stronger than blood.
I met a woman crowned with wheat colored hair of varden, a smile warm and inviting, eyes that sparkle like diamonds. She came to our house, invited us to hers. We accepted. She took of mother earth the sweetest of grapes and vines and made wine that warmed the insides, eased pain, not numbing just easing. She shared with us we took it in and gave what we could. Conversation was sweet, deep, meaningful. We talked guides, earth, magic, spirit, childhood, God and Goddesses, life and love.
In her home we only continued the process. I witnessed many things by the lake, felt unseen forces walking amongst the heavily wooded floors and walls. I felt the presence of majestic animals like Elk, bears, hawks, and even Bob cats. I saw wooden ritual tools being made, feathers adding their grace and power, I felt a sage like neutralizing energy. Peaceful!
I saw a spirit of a woman soft mousy brown hair, thick and luxurious arms of feathered golden and tan plumage. A scale in her hands with two books being weighted evenly, she wore a head band that was loose and acted as a semi blind fold the way it fell around her eyes. This spirit showed herself to me warm and yet indifferent. She embraced and surrounded our hostess of the weekend.
Falconer, she was, holding an ancient power on her very arm. A wonder of nature a very beautiful, regal bird of prey who knows only the element of air which it readily accepts in its flight to freedom. Power in its eyes and talons, majesty. Lord of the sky, of the hunt.
Blue eyed Ying and Yang, loving and accepting. One eyed Sassy Pearl paired with a bluish gray Sable feline of extravagant beauty.
We journeyed together Dionysus in one hands, surprise and good intent in the other. Imbolc called we answered, mother surprised by our sudden and unexpected appearance. Embraces, kisses, faces flushed with wine and spirits and most of all adoration.
Mother was present she was receiving us with open arms and heart. A song ready on her lips, her brilliant mind forming and producing words in the most intricate fashions before her mouth can utter them. Father feeling well, in great spirit the green pungent on his person, the warmth emanating off of him enough to realize God, the Father is connected to the Sun. Radiant, warm, protective.
The women present all in tune and in alignment with the highest mother of them all, the woman who sits round and bright in the darkness, The Moon.
Brigid is called, she is worshipped and sung too. Rhianna a walking and sometimes sleeping Goddess shares libations explains the beauty of ancient ceremonies of ages past. We close our eyes each with a firm vision and or feeling as we thing of what we can repair and or do to further make our way and life more productive. A woman with wild hair the color of the setting sun, bright and aflame. She winks at me she blows me kisses she is naked accept what looks like a burlap sack strategically places to just cover up a beautiful and voluptuous body. Several braided straps of some foreign material tied around her in a big bow. She is in a field of wheat and she tells me she is the harvest, she is the gain one gets from the earth. The product of hard work put into the land and received. Fruition! Compensation!
I know now why we three are there, why our Mother is there. We have been working and waiting, Brigid ready to bring us what we worked so hard for. We worked hard to find community, family, art, confidence, wealth.... its just outside of our reach. We have been brought to the gates of fruition, its for us to harvest at this point... we grab our tools: pens, microphones, faith, voices.
I met a woman crowned with wheat colored hair of varden, a smile warm and inviting, eyes that sparkle like diamonds. She came to our house, invited us to hers. We accepted. She took of mother earth the sweetest of grapes and vines and made wine that warmed the insides, eased pain, not numbing just easing. She shared with us we took it in and gave what we could. Conversation was sweet, deep, meaningful. We talked guides, earth, magic, spirit, childhood, God and Goddesses, life and love.
In her home we only continued the process. I witnessed many things by the lake, felt unseen forces walking amongst the heavily wooded floors and walls. I felt the presence of majestic animals like Elk, bears, hawks, and even Bob cats. I saw wooden ritual tools being made, feathers adding their grace and power, I felt a sage like neutralizing energy. Peaceful!
I saw a spirit of a woman soft mousy brown hair, thick and luxurious arms of feathered golden and tan plumage. A scale in her hands with two books being weighted evenly, she wore a head band that was loose and acted as a semi blind fold the way it fell around her eyes. This spirit showed herself to me warm and yet indifferent. She embraced and surrounded our hostess of the weekend.
Falconer, she was, holding an ancient power on her very arm. A wonder of nature a very beautiful, regal bird of prey who knows only the element of air which it readily accepts in its flight to freedom. Power in its eyes and talons, majesty. Lord of the sky, of the hunt.
Blue eyed Ying and Yang, loving and accepting. One eyed Sassy Pearl paired with a bluish gray Sable feline of extravagant beauty.
We journeyed together Dionysus in one hands, surprise and good intent in the other. Imbolc called we answered, mother surprised by our sudden and unexpected appearance. Embraces, kisses, faces flushed with wine and spirits and most of all adoration.
Mother was present she was receiving us with open arms and heart. A song ready on her lips, her brilliant mind forming and producing words in the most intricate fashions before her mouth can utter them. Father feeling well, in great spirit the green pungent on his person, the warmth emanating off of him enough to realize God, the Father is connected to the Sun. Radiant, warm, protective.
The women present all in tune and in alignment with the highest mother of them all, the woman who sits round and bright in the darkness, The Moon.
Brigid is called, she is worshipped and sung too. Rhianna a walking and sometimes sleeping Goddess shares libations explains the beauty of ancient ceremonies of ages past. We close our eyes each with a firm vision and or feeling as we thing of what we can repair and or do to further make our way and life more productive. A woman with wild hair the color of the setting sun, bright and aflame. She winks at me she blows me kisses she is naked accept what looks like a burlap sack strategically places to just cover up a beautiful and voluptuous body. Several braided straps of some foreign material tied around her in a big bow. She is in a field of wheat and she tells me she is the harvest, she is the gain one gets from the earth. The product of hard work put into the land and received. Fruition! Compensation!
I know now why we three are there, why our Mother is there. We have been working and waiting, Brigid ready to bring us what we worked so hard for. We worked hard to find community, family, art, confidence, wealth.... its just outside of our reach. We have been brought to the gates of fruition, its for us to harvest at this point... we grab our tools: pens, microphones, faith, voices.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Please support art
"thank you 4 supporting 'maevensong'! available on cdbaby.com & itunes!!! http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/maevensong/id349188913"
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Turbulent waters
Tonight I witnessed myself and two others on a boat. It was amidst peaceful waves that pushed us gently and steadily towards a common place and destination. Where, not one of us knew but we were lead by the current of spirit. One of us felt a discord, one of us got angry and frightful. One of us reached out in the only way we knew how, to gain control over the situation based on our passed experience of dealing with issues like this. I sat in the middle of this boat angered as either side tried to get to their point of where we were going, how we should get there, was our boat worth boarding or should we let it capsize and separately swim to sure. I know in my heart we were in this boat not for us, we were in this boat to get to a place, to bring something with us to a destination. To be guided by spirit but to impart that spirit of us onto others, we could help if we could only get to sure. No matter how turbulent the waves, no matter how dark the sky seemed to get. Lightning and anger flashed in beautiful but horrific displays, winds of shifting personalities and thoughts whipped our hair and very clothes around, emotion like water in time with the ebb and flow pulling at us and dictating the direction in which we could go although we collectively felt lost.
My thoughts raced back to Our lady of Charity, and the three men in that boat. Light surrounded us slowly but surely we just had to open up to it in order to see it. Love was just peaking through the storm clouds, the water of our emotions reflecting in small specs against the shadowy surface. I felt my anger break I felt myself rise within myself, I shall not be silenced I walked away from the boat... I walked on water like the old stories of Jesus and let the boat go. I knew that either of the two were lost in their own thoughts, then they too got out of the boat. They walked on waves we three spoke our peace. We got to shore where we hugged, we embraced, we brought with us that trinity. Holy things always in threes, we were finally on sure without realizing it. Commonality in our goal, egos hurt, feelings still processing, LOVE still present.... we know there are so many more boat rides, train rides, living rooms to go.
Captain & Tenille plays in the back of my mind " Love! Love will keep us together!"
We turned I looked back I bathed in cool waters and thanked La Caridad del cobre, Our Lady of Charity and thanked her for our own private exchange during the storm, during the turbulent waves.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
My calling
I met someone humble, genuine, he was jovial. His crown was the ocean and its depths, the force of his crown was the mother who fights for her children who gives into the anger or love and fights and defends ferociously and efficiently. His name was Leo, Okoto was the crown.
I was brought into a room where a myriad of colors splashed across a singular room. Women in white head wraps with a scarlet parrot feather tucked somewhere in their knot. Dark and light colored people with the whitest of clothes, emanating a glow of freshness somewhat angelic in appearance.
I see one corner of the room draped in the most delicate and colorful cloth. They draw your eyes to them without your permission. Helpless to the beauty and intricacies you see strewn in the most thoughtful of ways. I see multicolored tureens and Porcelain jars draped in fine cloth and adorned with decorated beaded Necklaces that denote royalty to the fullest degree. Inside the porcelain confines are but a bit of harnessed energy, a bit of a force of nature. I liken it to capturing a bit of lightning or thunder in a jar. Heat and energy is raised around the room as a few men start playing drums. There voices hard and raspy still make the most beautiful of songs as they sing songs of ages old. Africa makes itself known, the motherland comes through bubbling up from our very cells, our soul, through our pores, out of our mouths into our limbs. Making us move to a rhythm that takes over our very being, we move, we sway, we spin, we step in line with those around us who are doing specific movements for one of the Orishas.
This cant be the same religion I have heard about, this cant be this dark secretive practice I have heard about in the media. This once believed Devil worship by myself only a few months ago which only through education, showed me they have no devil and devil is purely a christian concept.
This couldn't be anything but pure beauty. What could be more pure than to accept, acknowledge, and appreciate the earth on which we live? This is what Orisha is, they are the very essence of Nature, the very invisible and potent forces that make things what they are.
I felt a connection, nothing that could be explained only felt. It rang through me, reverberating through my soul as if a bell as rung, my core in tune with these drums. Each beat of the drum echos in sync with my heart, my limbs and torso find a movement that feels too natural too right and somehow. I look around i am moving the same as some others standing in my midst, no need for taught choreographed movement's, this was spirit, this was community. I found a link to my ancestors, I was naked my soul was bared, I was giving in to this sound, this feeling. This is more than me, this is above me, this is ME. I'm a willing instrument, a vessel awaiting to be prepared in order to receive one of these forces of nature, this part of the divine. I am home recognition floods my brain, I am overwhelmed with emotion. Dejavu implies I have experienced this before, but I cannot recollect a single memory. I'm in love with this feeling, I'm in love with this community, I m in love with this music, I'm in love with Nature, with the earth.
I am home.
I was brought into a room where a myriad of colors splashed across a singular room. Women in white head wraps with a scarlet parrot feather tucked somewhere in their knot. Dark and light colored people with the whitest of clothes, emanating a glow of freshness somewhat angelic in appearance.
I see one corner of the room draped in the most delicate and colorful cloth. They draw your eyes to them without your permission. Helpless to the beauty and intricacies you see strewn in the most thoughtful of ways. I see multicolored tureens and Porcelain jars draped in fine cloth and adorned with decorated beaded Necklaces that denote royalty to the fullest degree. Inside the porcelain confines are but a bit of harnessed energy, a bit of a force of nature. I liken it to capturing a bit of lightning or thunder in a jar. Heat and energy is raised around the room as a few men start playing drums. There voices hard and raspy still make the most beautiful of songs as they sing songs of ages old. Africa makes itself known, the motherland comes through bubbling up from our very cells, our soul, through our pores, out of our mouths into our limbs. Making us move to a rhythm that takes over our very being, we move, we sway, we spin, we step in line with those around us who are doing specific movements for one of the Orishas.
This cant be the same religion I have heard about, this cant be this dark secretive practice I have heard about in the media. This once believed Devil worship by myself only a few months ago which only through education, showed me they have no devil and devil is purely a christian concept.
This couldn't be anything but pure beauty. What could be more pure than to accept, acknowledge, and appreciate the earth on which we live? This is what Orisha is, they are the very essence of Nature, the very invisible and potent forces that make things what they are.
I felt a connection, nothing that could be explained only felt. It rang through me, reverberating through my soul as if a bell as rung, my core in tune with these drums. Each beat of the drum echos in sync with my heart, my limbs and torso find a movement that feels too natural too right and somehow. I look around i am moving the same as some others standing in my midst, no need for taught choreographed movement's, this was spirit, this was community. I found a link to my ancestors, I was naked my soul was bared, I was giving in to this sound, this feeling. This is more than me, this is above me, this is ME. I'm a willing instrument, a vessel awaiting to be prepared in order to receive one of these forces of nature, this part of the divine. I am home recognition floods my brain, I am overwhelmed with emotion. Dejavu implies I have experienced this before, but I cannot recollect a single memory. I'm in love with this feeling, I'm in love with this community, I m in love with this music, I'm in love with Nature, with the earth.
I am home.
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