New Old Friends

I thought it was time to dedicate a post to all the new friends I've been meeting and making in the past four days (and some longer than that). To new friends everywhere - remember, a friend is first a stranger.

Thank you to:

Steven, who owns + runs an antique vintage art glass + Scandinavian ceramics neighborhood shop/installation on Hudson that's been there for 17 years (!), his shop that I've walked past many times, but this time I went in, who, after talking about my love of elephants and inquiring about them (investments someday to be mine!), gave me this tiny, heavy elephant which I now carry in my pocket every day. 

my little friend

my little friend

Sarah, who recently joined the choir, with whom I've begun an email-pen-pal-writing-adventure before even having spoken in person, and then only speaking for less than two minutes a week or so ago, who herself is an incredibly creative, brave + talented writer + person and inspires me with her writing and thoughts and feelings.

Succulent has a new home with new friends!

Succulent has a new home with new friends!

Nicole the artist (+ baker + florist), at the flower shop on Hudson (near Perry) who, whilst I was checking out the succulent air plants (and subsequently purchased one), gave me some flowers after I told her my story which I then gave to Rita whose birthday we were celebrating later that day.

Ranger Bob who was sprinkling seeds on a square of grass + tree, "thumbelina park", on 25th St & 8th Ave as I was bicycling by, one of those divider green squares, who, after I asked what he was doing and showed an interest, appointed me on the spot to Ranger Dawn by us holding up our right hands and repeating "I do solemnly swear to do whatever the hell I can to make this into a park".

           subway elephante

           subway elephante

(Another) Steven, the photographer, on the subway ride home from Boozy Birthday Brooklyn with Louise + Ali (+ Brook!), who asked what I was painting (photo at right) and with whom I had a swift ride home due to pleasant + friendly conversation.

Amy, who I met possibly one or even two years ago at The Brooklyn Free Store, and met again at a party on Saturday night and she remembered me and thought it was serendipitous we should meet again because after I told her my story, told me that she is curating her first art show (which is extremely interesting!!!) and has some elements of focusing on pain and invited me to submit my work now or in the future.

Ruth, who I've known a while through Community, gave me gifts of laughter on the retreat last weekend, and who last night gave me one of her handmade journals (which will be my next Dream Journal, I told her).

Ruth Miller's handmade notebook pour moi.

Ruth Miller's handmade notebook pour moi.

Is it serendipity? Is it synchronicity? Is it fate? Or is it just life? Is it about being open to life and everyone and everything in it? Is it about believing in the impossible or in limitless possibility? Is it about being open to change? Is change inevitable? Is it about a deep unknown need for human/life connection? Or is it about love?

love love love love love yes yes yes yes yes yes love love love love love yes yes yes yes yes
— Rita DeCassia, Healer + Multi Linguist

p.s. joy comes in all sizes.

meow!

meow!

Blood Moon

4.15.2014 Tues 7:29 AM

Despite trying so hard to stay awake, I awoke on the couch in the living room. In my mind I “slept in” but it is still before 7:30 in the morning and I shake a dismissive hand at the clock in the kitchen.

I missed the rare Blood Moon, the Lunar Eclipse. Last night I read that it's a tetrad and I'll have three more chances. I went around the apartment smudging with my smudge stick, cleansing our living space on this unique occasion. I had intended to do this a few days after the baby died, at Jessica's suggestion, but it never happened. I smudged our bedroom + looked out the window. Where is this Blood Moon? I can’t see it, I said searching in each window. D said, You can’t see the moon from here, but I knew you could because I had. 

I smudged all the rooms and come to the living room. I sent out extra positivity to the living room which has all these Memories + Things but doesn’t have space for Living Things. It will some day soon, I know it.

I went to the corner of the living room windows which has all the Natural Light and the aloes + poinsettia flourish there. I have a nice wooden chair with sturdy arms that I sit in as I continue to smudge. I look out into the city from this eighth floor - building upon building, all bricks, a darkened, clouded sky. Where is the moon?

And then I see it/her/him. All the way to the right, in the top corner of the farthest window, there it/she/he is. Almost out of sight with clouds passing in front of my view, I see her. The Moon looks to have a permanent haze or cloud over a portion of the roundness - the beginning of the Lunar Eclipse. It is not yet Blood Red but it is the beginning.

I gaze and gaze and continue to smudge. Tumble, our cat, sits on the window sill in front of me. The smudge stick is curious for him. Does he know about the moon and what’s happening? Or does he just want to play? Or is playing the point? If there is so much to learn from children - in fact if everything we need to know lies in the genuine and truly authentic experience of children, shouldn’t Playing be apart of everything? Do not the cats and the dogs and the cows and the pigs and the chickens and the whales and the elephants and the sharks and the birds of paradise and the dung beetles and the earthworms all play? And what of the aloe and the basil and the potato and the daffodil and the peppers and the bamboo - don’t they all play?

I awake this morning and I realize that I’ve missed the Blood Moon, but I haven’t, not really. The Blood Moon healed me, kept me on the couch in deep, deep sleep to heal this sore throat, to heal me, to heal this tired body, to allow me to listen and submit to my body, my body which is Of The Earth, constantly telling me what to do, what to eat, what to feel, this body which is of the cosmos, made of the dust of stars.