Pink Coyote

Weekend at Teahouse and Point Reyes Elk

This weekend unfolded beautifully beginning with a Saturday live Lodge journey circle at Teahouse Studio in Berkeley, CA with a very open-hearted group of women whom I would like to share with you here. Promise. I'll give a full report of the serious MAGIC this week.

Then it gave way to a hike out to Point Reyes Station, after winding up the curvaceous roads through a magical fern forest and past many clovery fields of cows.

photo by Elke May

I'm so grateful to my co-pilots, who kept me inspired, chatted, coffee'd and fed on our journey, and to SouLodge clansister Alara Castell, who created the below video for us to recount our magic moments in Elk country.

 

My Strange and Wondrous Double Life

I'm packing up to do our weekly run to Ojai now that Brandon is there. Ivy woke up this morning and said, "I want to go see Dada, at his HOUSE!", which is such a strange concept to me. I've thought of how odd it is that he really doesn't live here anymore, like when I had to jump up and wheel the garbage cans out on Monday morning, and take out the recyclables by my very own self...and tuck myself in after working too late last night.

In and amongst creating the life that we have been dreaming of for ourselves and our family, I can't help but observe that I thought we'd be making this move together and not apart. I have things to finish up here on the ranch, so until then, we Facetime, send videos and make bedtime phone calls. 

I'm doing a lot of writing at night and taking care of my store during the day. Daily life has a different look altogether. I'm beginning to realize, through the mirroring of others, that I do a lot. I'm not sure how it all gets done, and of course, sometimes it doesn't. I hadn't really planned to launch a store the month Ivy was born, nor had I planned on writing a book before she was school-aged. My hope is that both of the children still get the best of me, though I do wonder. Of course, I'll always wonder. Making the choice to act and live creatively, while I mother them during the young years has unfolded in an unexpected way, and sometimes my world is a guilty, momentary wildfire of deadlines and stressful moments with the question of "How am I gonna do it?, muttered to the unfolded pile of laundry, sitting there since Sunday.

Yep, I did say it here, for the first time.

I am writing a book. One of many, I hope. This year will be full of surprise offerings as the seeds I planted last year come to fruition later on this year and next. I think I keep bringing it up because even I'm surprised at the thought of how much is in bloom right now and coming soon.

I feel, as ever, overwhelmed with gratitude that you are along for the ride here. Faithful friends and readers, what would I do without your bolstering love and support?

My Strange and Wondrous Double Life

I'm packing up to do our weekly run to Ojai now that Brandon is there. Ivy woke up this morning and said, "I want to go see Dada, at his HOUSE!", which is such a strange concept to me. I've thought of how odd it is that he really doesn't live here anymore, like when I had to jump up and wheel the garbage cans out on Monday morning, and take out the recyclables by my very own self...and tuck myself in after working too late last night.

In and amongst creating the life that we have been dreaming of for ourselves and our family, I can't help but observe that I thought we'd be making this move together and not apart. I have things to finish up here on the ranch, so until then, we Facetime, send videos and make bedtime phone calls. 

I'm doing a lot of writing at night and taking care of my store during the day. Daily life has a different look altogether. I'm beginning to realize, through the mirroring of others, that I do a lot. I'm not sure how it all gets done, and of course, sometimes it doesn't. I hadn't really planned to launch a store the month Ivy was born, nor had I planned on writing a book before she was school-aged. My hope is that both of the children still get the best of me, though I do wonder. Of course, I'll always wonder. Making the choice to act and live creatively, while I mother them during the young years has unfolded in an unexpected way, and sometimes my world is a momentary wildfire of deadlines and stressful moments and the question of "How am I gonna do it?, muttered in the quiet spaces. Multi-tasking has new meaning to me each day.

Yep, I did say it here, for the first time.

I am writing a book. One of many, I hope. This year will be full of surprise offerings as the seeds I planted last year come to fruition later on this year and next. I think I keep bringing it up because even I'm surprised at the thought of how much is in bloom right now and coming soon.

I feel, as ever, overwhelmed with gratitude that you are along for the ride here. Faithful friends and readers, what would I do without your bolstering love and support?

It Takes Instagram. I Mean a Village!

I came down with some kind of wicked tummy bug last weekend and it just about ruined a perfectly good week. An appointment with my acupuncturist determined that I must take copious amounts of "cleansing" herbal tea pills. The drama and pain was soon over and I felt much better in no time.

Still, I had to cancel a date on Friday with a friend, which we made up for with a two-hour phone call full of all kinds of catching up and also, Big Plans. Then, I consoled myself further by purchasing iPhones for Brandon and I, and got immediately sucked into the drug-like, cosmic vortex known as Instagram. Before I get caught up in singing it's praises, I want to make sure you know how to find me: pixiecampbell. I know that many of you do not do Instagram, so here are some of my weekend captures:

  Unsuspecting victims of my new toy.

It's an addiction, really, and it came at the perfect time, when I suddenly needed yet another distraction.

However, the really big news is not that I've come late to the iPhone party. The really spectacular news that I've been holding on to for weeks is that we are making a gentle transition out of California's Central Valley. And down and over to California's Central Coast.

It's a dream come true for us.

And we thought we already lived where the food comes from.

We'll be moving over the course of the year, with Brandon heading down first to begin working in his new position, and the children and I will follow no later than year's end. I have a project I have to finish up here, so we'll be visiting him mid-week for a few days and he'll be back on the weekends. It sounds crazy, but this is the kind of thing we're apt to do when we're co-creating magic with the universe. Now I have to tell you about magical Ojai.

Ojai is a lovely little art town nestled in the Ojai Valley, surrounded by the Los Padres National Forest, about twenty minutes from the seaside, and 40 minutes south of Santa Barbara. It was a very easy YES for us. An opportunity for Brandon presented itself and we've been trying on all of the possibilities and proceeding thoughtfully, knowing full well that if we could make it work, we would. We've loved our visits there and it's been on our dream list for ages.

The residents have fruit trees and magnificent gardens all over their yards, and local food is served in many of the restaurants, and sold in the beautiful marketplaces.

Ojai is one of those little villages that's very community-rooted, nature-absorbed, active, and peaceful. It has a lovely consciousness about it, with art and music at every turn, great schools for Miles and Ivy, and room for us to expand our hearts and our visions. Plus it's laid back, lush, and freaking BEAUTIFUL.

It's funny, we moved to Bakersfield over four years ago with every intention of leaving as soon as possible. Only in the last year or so, have I had to cut my hometown some slack. Things have been working very well here for us. Being here has given me an opportunity to experience many much-needed healings with my parents, and I knew when I came here my feet would be to the fire about that. But as I've softened and opened, so have they, and the work I came here to do with them has reached completion for now.

This home has been a safehaven. This crazy valley has unexpectedly been a place of healing, renewal, courage, possibility. My parents have given us so much support, helping us to create a home for our children and build something lovely for our family.

And the Universe! Something I learn time and again is that I suffer when I want something before it's time. This has been another teaching in surrender, loving what is in front of me, and doing the work I am meant to do. I am learning deeply, on so many levels, what it means to trust that all change comes just at the right time. That there is no need to push the Earth through her orbit by obsessing. That the wheel is turning all by itself. It's also a lesson in naming what I want in detail, and then stepping back, letting go, and confidently honoring my deepest human intent while it unfolds in right time. That's my job, and it's all I can do.

I love this world. I love this experience of being alive. Not because I am lucky or things are going our way, but because it teaches me. It teaches me to trust.

 

 

grateful list

yes, i am stiiiiiiill integrating. one reason being is that a handful of big things are brewing for my family as well as for me and it feels a bit like big shift overload. in the best way, but you know how it is when a lot blossoms at once? all i can do is sit in the gratitude of it, in the right side of my brain and not force the analytics. a day at the beach and the spectacular little village of ojai with brandon and the kids is helping me to stay in that space.

gRateFuLL

for balance of masculine and feminine forces

for surrender and the flow of goodness that always follows

for help

for new friends and their divine guidance

for happy pants and my fairy's first toenail painting

for plants that ground and mama birds that remind me how to feed my chicks

for blessed one-on-one contact

for non-superficiality

for naps and lucid dreaming

for reassurance that the circle is a spiral and each time i re-visit a place, it's with new wisdom

for hollowed out trees and elvish boys who fearlessly climb into them

for cooler temperatures and consignment store sweaters that save the day

for peacock colored linen pants for $6

for summer plans with my favorite women

for cottonwood bud salve from herbmama that smells good enough to eat

for the kind of connections that only smiling fate brings

for mango sausage and perfect over-medium eggs

for exciting new paths with places to plant and grow

for twists of kismet and perfect crossings

for patient customers and abundance

for knowing what we need, and asking for what we want

for transformation that begins when we say, "YES"

for surprises in the mail that topple obstacles

for transparency and non-judgement

for ego-strength and willingness to learn beyond the current scope

for berry picking in the warm sun and big-wheeled wagons to tote them in

for my mom's flexibility

for my dad's quiet support

for those who have passed and meet us in council on the Otherside

for taking the time to process

for sleeping on it

for allowing life to lead

for warm honeyed vocals and unexpected island ukeleles

for young, wise ones who *see*

for the stories that keep us alive

for bold.wild.trust. and the people who inspire it in me

 

 

 

 

 

*grateful

fine art print by the amazing rachel awes of all i did was listen.

 

the last two weeks have been on spin cycle for me, as i have pulled through the eye of a very unlikely and small needle in a matter of my life that has been very tough for about a year now. coming to the other side has left me feeling extremely quiet and vulnerable, capital V, and humbled. it is also as if a very bright light is shining all over the world and everywhere i turn there are unexpected colors and possibilities. it has felt like waking up...again. all i feel and can share is how grateful i am for this life, this deep process of unearthing and detangling, holding up this little light of mine and merging with aspects of spiritSelf that keep calling me forth. so...a list.

i'm bursting with gratitude for:

love

for women who know how to take care of themselves and in doing so, take care of the world

for the natural state of things

for the divine harmonies of mamuse and r.i.s.e

for campfires and the smell that stays in my hair and on my clothes

for trust that outlives the conflict

for friends living by example and risking it all for their dreams

for friends who tell it like it is

for wooden bowls and spoons to make "salad" from grass, dandelions and mud

for chiliquiles on mother's day

for wild ideas

for artists who believe in each other

for customers who tell me their stories

for the perfect ten dollar easel

for turquoise retro chairs on ebay

for long drives up highway one

for her boldness and his love of hugging her and kissing her toes

for them even when they don't say what i want them to

for kings, queens, cups and wands

for the first zucchini

the best reincarnated dog in the world

for cohousing and friends who stand at my worktable and proclaim that i live in an "oasis"

for impassioned creators who use their work for the good of humankind

for answering the call, following the smoke signals

for non-judgement when i fumble

for someone to lean into when i want so much to hold myself up the old way

for eagle feathers, storytellers, corn races, snowcones

for the writer who looks at my work and says, "I've been looking for you for a looooong time"

for eager students

for MOVEMENT, glorious movement all over this plane

for beet salad and goat cheese, arugula and course black pepper the size of seeds

for mockingbirds like nightowls, his bat drawings, and ospreys with messages

for creatures that come to greet my friend each time we speak on the phone

for tristan and iseult, psyche and eros, parisfal, and alice

for the friend who hugs me when i'm sick and doesn't fear for my germs

for Mother Ocean who breaks on the shore with no talkin' and all action

for amazing suppliers who love my business and go the extra mile

for wild ideas ideas ideas at naptime (the best kind)

for licorice mint tea and the fortunes they come with

for the hanged man

nanny mcphee, tim burton, and johnny depp

for druid circle cookies and borrowed popcorn

for laying down the sword and picking up the goblet

for romance and openheartedness

for adventure and passports

for coconut mojitos and first friday

for handholding and neck nibbles

for family bedtime stories and misbehaving

for stones that vibrate in my hand, rose quartz that reminds me to love myself unconditionally

for dreaming, scheming and allowing it to unfold

for letting go, always for letting go

for the cage and the will to break through it for something better

for salty salami and cheese on squishy rolls

for my body, this agreeable vessel which still leaps with friends for fun and gets me from place to place

and for you, inspirited readers, who come here day in and out to connect, to be inspired or be given permission, to forgive yourselves or just to have a trickster's laugh. i can no longer come here without profound gratitude for YOU.

photo by terri fischer

 

Surprises from the Pony Express

There is such bounty everywhere. I am blessed to have gifts coming and going each day, coming more than going, it seems! I wanted to share a few of them that I was quick enough to snap photos of before they got tucked away into their loved and useful spaces, or little hands carted them off. Think of it as a random sampling of lovin'...it reminds me to keep sending out mail love, something I enjoy tremendously, because it feels soooo good to receive surprises. Don't you agree?

This is homemade healing salve from a herby desert mama friend.

She also sent a bagful of Datura, a deadly nightshade that I must find a magical use for...

Yummy sugar scrub from another mama friend.

A piece of honey calcite which has hardly left me since I opened it. This came from a very faraway friend, so it is extra special, having made such a long journey! I keep wanting to call it Honeyed Calcite. The note that came with it says that it is a powerful amplifier and cleanser of energies and that it helps to speed up development and growth.

Rainwater collected by yet another beautiful sister from a salmon stream near her home in the Pacific Northwest. Of course, I opened it right up and took a giant swig, and I swear, it is the freshest water I've ever tasted. It has a very clean feeling about it. Makes me want to head north.

Bobcat fur remnants from a taxidermy job, from an amazing Native American man who sells me deerskin from time to time. He just tucked this little handful of scraps into my last package, knowing that I would scream and meow and be delighted.

On that note, another friend who is local, brought over two giant trashbags filled with scraps of mule deer, elk, black bear, and some sort of mountain goat hides today from his friend, a taxidermist, who was going to throw it all in the garbage. I get asked a LOT where I obtain claws, fur bits, feathers. Now you know how some of it finds it's way to me. Black Bear is not legal to buy or sell in California because it is our state animal, in fact, each state has it's own specific laws about which animals are legal to possess parts of, and it varies widely. But it is nice to be gifted a bit of this and that to have onhand for special purposes. Especially if it was headed for a trash bin! Native peoples and those practicing native ways have a lovely way of sharing medicine with each other. Remember my coyote leg that my friend's dog dragged out of the forest that is one of my treasures? Sharing is caring.

Surprise chocolate! Which is always a good thing. This is that yummy chocolate that helps one to RELAX, which I'm very much in need of assistance with. Wei of Chocolate (pronounced Way of Chocolate) are very good peeps. RELAXED and JOYFUL are my favorites. The flower-infused flavors are otherworldly.

Bunnies for babes, from one of the kids' most important aunties.

And that concludes this synopsis of lovemail for now. Blessings on all. xoxo

 

One Sweet Cat

Thank you, Cat, for this tribute. I feel honored.

Vlog Sacred Tools: Gratitude

 

I've made another video, this time while daytripping at my favorite beach here in California, Rincon Point. It's a local's beach where the surf is good and tide pools abundant with sea life for the kids to poke around in and discover the magic of tide pools.

I'm demonstrating how easy it is to set out into nature with the tiniest of sacred tools, in order to give thanks to the directions, the Ocean and the sacred planet for all that they give and inspire in us. When we go for outings, my kids often like to bring home treasures. It is fitting to leave behind a blessing. My children participated in thanksgiving offscreen today, because they were having too much fun playing to be part of mama's production. The wee pouch didn't take much preparation to fill, nor did it take up too much room among the baskets and bags to schlep down to the sand. Some rites can be brief and compact, while being very effective.

I don't have a photo of my pouch handy, but I wanted to share one with you. This one, called Palomino, was made by Karen Prado. There are all kinds of pouches, bags and beautiful ways to carry the sacred medicine, some of which are more American Indian in appearance and tradition, and some which have obvious Celtic details, and plenty more others still beyond that. Receiving one as a gift or making one with your own hands makes it extra special.

I packed the pouch with:

lavender buds

a rose quartz bear fetish

pieces of blue kyanite

If you hang in until the end of this short vlog, you will see a panicked me bolting off to save my children from a runaway horse, who dumped it's rider and took off down the shoreline toward the area where they were playing with a friend of mine and her baby. Brandon and I  laughed MIGHTILY, because it's like watching a Funniest Home Video. Thank goodness no one was hurt! Interesting that even a spooked and stampeding horse can use selective judgment in a crisis, eh?

My first thought was to trim the video just after I said final thanks, but Coyote insisted I leave it in for laugh therapy.

Bless the Ocean & Earth, Japan, frightened horses, and each of us on this global ride. After the events of the week, perhaps a hearty laugh will be a good release for all.

 

All You Need

I love this boy, his wide open heart and sponge of a mind, his love of the natural ways of the earth and wind, his free spirit and compassion for living things.

I love waking up to intense sunshine streaming through the front window, even when she cries, "Too briiiight!"

I love growing-slowly, painfully, crooked at times, as a fool for love, and poetry.

I love my gloriously gifted friends and artists near to my heart, for their thoughts, their brilliant locomotion and originality.

I love giving someone a chance that could save their lives.

I love this giveaway.

I love releasing again and again, as there is always something to give back to the earth for transformation.

I love this book, by Sandra Ingerman.

I love hating something about myself and finding a way to be kind and love it instead.

I love our new tax accountant! A thousand blessings on Blake!

I love the promise of Spring, the gentle and light gift it brings on the breeze, mornings warm enough to open all the windows.

I love that love is enough, in so many instances. All of them, actually. If words and actions are done with love, from a place of love for humankind and this planet, everything would be possible. Everything is possible. Right now.

count them count them

grateful for...

*dew

*the painful beauty of the life/death/life cycle

*magic

*scar clans

*rediscovered lost parts

*broken open, by elizabeth lesser, and the wild human who shared it with me

*perfect chicken soup

*kerrygold

*wolf tshirts

*patient midwifery

*the perfect work table

*non-silent treatment

*the one who holds space

*the friends who show up

*the one who rented the safe car for us

*are you sleeping? over and over again

*newton's folly granny smith cider

*she in grief who trusted her heart with me

*letting go and changing my mind

*i'm sorry

*sacred communication

*for labradorite and it's shiny shiny wonder

*nettles nettles nettles

*chicken chile verde burritos

*hot water

*expanding horizons

*tiny ice cream cups with wee spoons

*bedtime revelations

*generous seamstresses

*maybes

*magic purple earrings

*bright sunshine before the storm comes in

*happy mating hawks

*coffee with kahlua and cream

*plane tickets

*dream roommates

*shelter

*outlaw country

*giant pillows

*giant dogs

*breakfast quesadillas

*good lighting

*sulfur and smoke and being the ashes

*painting dates

*surprise checks

*pink slips

*kissy lips

*knowing my limits

*feeling my potential

*turning in early

*firebirds and first nations

*shopping for an almost-two year old

*old brass

*new glasses

*he who waters his bulbs every day

*she who puts a bead up her nose

*fair estimates

*revolution

*freedom

*birth

*you

*me

*everything that seperates us

*the collective spirit

*the one with a strong desire to inspire

*the little one just born in far-too-big socks

*the one with a vision

*the one licking her wounds

*the one saying goodbye

*greeting the dawn another day

 

never enough thanks

 

counting counting on both hands now

for a black wolf on a gopher murdering streak

seeking vengeance for the roots of my lost fig tree

for the memories of the one who is gone but not forgotten

for sweet cheeks with bangs hanging over the darkest sparkling eyes

for his teachings about volcanoes in nicaragua that i never knew about

and spontaneous pirate parties

for rose quartz guitar picks and serenades

for abundance and for the life that swells in the buds of fruit trees anxious to burst open

for the excitement of projects with trusted geniuses who fly on angel wings

for plants who tell me their secrets and their plans

for giggling to sleep and tickles and a game we made up called goose-goose

for kicks to the shins when i'm not paying attention

and the wrench in my gut when i pay the real price

for wise ones who know what's at the bottom of it all

for hope and the generosity of hundreds of miracle souls reaching out to...a hungry dog

for feather treasures and six-deer sightings

and uncomplicated road trips with french fries to keep the natives tranquil

for emails full of foxes on hind legs

for the ocean waves crashing against me in my very near future

for friends who crack open my mind and challenge me with the wisdom of their experiences so very different from my own

for spirit babies and the parents who find them

for breakfast burritos and blueberry pancakes

for releasing rituals and shed skins and growth

for wooly yarn and knitted jokes to keep someone i love laughing

for great trades and handfuls of dread beads to show for it

for first quilt squares and perfect postcards

for homemade pizza and soda fountain cokes

for sunshine that blinds and false spring

and miles homemade fertilizer made of mud and pea gravel pilfered from the walking path

for kestrels and their night hunts outside my cool window

for dogsitters who give extra love and biscuits

for flexibility

for grace

for deep breaths

for calming tea

and open hearts

for trust that never goes away

 

Black Dog

Hey hey mama said the way you move, gon' make you sweat, gon make you groove...

Meet Morgan. Oh, where do I begin to tell you about my Morgan? How far do I back up into the story that began with a very special girly who is no longer with us?

I know- I first have to tell you about the mark Blue left on me. She was a goofy broad, by all accounts. Her musty, riverwater breath and ginormous, gum-revealing smile, and wild, laughing eyes brought Hank and I to life with her antics, in my lavender colored office where I ran a fledgling sleepwear company on Rowena Ave. It was 1999, in Los Feliz, CA, nestled under the Hollywood Hills, where I grew my first personal appreciation for the alpha female  personality.

Flash forward to November 2009, and we put our ten year old girly down with cancer. In the most ceremonial and sweet way that we could create, we offered her back to the earth, filled with gratitude for the gifts she'd shared with us. We would never be the same because of one meeting in the park, in the right place, at the right time. She had at least several lives, because even a rattlesnake bite to the nose didn't take her from us in '04. She was a tough bitch, and the most deeply loving one you could ever snuggle up to.

I've been searching the face of every damn stray dog within a hundred mile radius for months looking for her reincarnation. I've been dreaming of her and combing the ads of rescues prepared to travel to find the perfect blend of goofy and instinctually protective, arrogant and humorous.

Enter Morgie Lee. Morgie has big paws to fill, doesn't she?

When I drove home from circle just over a week ago, when the white light of illumination about a difficult subject came pouring into my car windows, the last thing on my mind was Dog. I was surfing the rapture of enlightenment, a much welcomed moment after a particularly transformative, yet illusory week month year. So imagine that I'm talking out loud to myself, and shouting "Of course!" and "Well, duh!" and "Oh my goddess, I'm so grateful for this piece, oh yes, thank you", as I approach the unspectacular dirt road that Ts into my own.

She raised her head up off of her paws to look at me. I pulled into the turn, pressed into the brake, put the passenger window down. "Are you the one?" and our first conversation took place. I got out of the car, walked around to her, she wagged her squiggly butt over and as I squatted down to extend my hand, she bypassed it and put her big, dark nose square into my heart and pushed.

I couldn't even cry at the thought that this was how Blue used to hug me. Her famous Dog Hug. I only laughed because I knew she was meant to be.

Up into the car where she found the ultimate treasure of a few discarded peanut butter pretzels, she made a round ball with her body and stayed low until we got out.

At home.

She's sassy and bossy and has a sly poker face. She hordes toys in her bed, hogs the food, howls when I leave, and chews through electrical cords. She's goofy and loving and gives a soft kiss like she means it. She is grateful. She is a spark of a moment of contrast between the immense light washing over me and her pitch, shadow-black fur.

She's a manifestation of patience, trust and the release of something old from my soul that had been looking for a way out and up, so that something else...something wonderful could come in.

 

 

 

indulgence

snatches of solitude

warm, sunny mornings

elk albondigas

pannetone

a near-completed painting

a grieving ritual

babies who sing Doe, A Deer

laptop video-on-demand

going to bed before i turn into a pumpkin

going with the feeling

patching something up

hanging the stockings with care

slicing through the bullshit

bathtub tarot card readings

perfect holiday pedicure

shopping for children complete and ready to wrap

hilarious stories that threaten to make me pee

winter babies on the way

up late with harry potter and a saucer-eyed son

growing his hair out

the littlest one shouting "happy tutu!" when it's time to get dressed

pee pee in the potty

dreaming in pairs: geese, bats, doves

concert tickets taped to the fridge

reading the grail myth several different ways

all the pretty horses

holiday yoga giveaways

christmas dresses

sacred intention

skeleton woman

a bowlful of tiny beach stones

double fat eggnog

lion bars

barbecue chicken pizza

deep friendship made of trust, dipped in love, glittered with age

spirit gifts

mica flakes

horsie sheets

and nightcaps

 

 

The Little Things

A very relaxing holiday has come and gone for the Campbell family. I find myself thinking mostly of the sweetest little things...

Naked butts in the tub, splashing and drinking the bathwater

Lime-scented dread gel and two new beads

Mug after mug of hot chocolate

A boy in a tree-decorating trance

A babe strutting in new boots

A giant fire and perfect marshmallow sticks

Sweetgrass incense sticks poked into the ground

Special occasion scotch in sparkly new highballs

Sweet potato casserole that I thought I was over, but as it turns out, I could eat it every day

Mom's perfect cornbread stuffing, which our family calls "dressing"

Brandon's salty unshaven scruff

A book I can finish in one night

Real cream

Family band in the living room every night

A handful of whole nutmegs to be grated into any every dish possible

Dogs inside for the cold nights

Friends who are family

Freshly shaken mason jar butter

Chocolate rimmed lips on children too young to be consuming so much chocolate it leaves rings

Waking up to her new ritual verse, "Peanut butter pretzels! Peanut butter pretzels!"

Grapevines turning yellow

Mail love: gently used books from a faraway bestie

Snow plans

Orange and Patchouli Wild & Free Body Balm

All of my favorite clothes laundered

Tearful teething nights transformed by singing one very old African chant again and again

Hanging with gradeschool girlfriends instead of shopping on Black Friday and impersonating the machine that would call home to alert our parents we'd skipped class

A perfectly balanced checkbook

The sweetest voicemails ever

Precious silence after hours

 

 

Gratitude

This painting has been a very long-time coming. As with most of my work, I have to work the medicine before it will agree to come into being. This one is big.

Summer found me examining the whitewashed bones of my remnant dependencies and my deepest fears. As I bedded down to figure out how to deal with what was coming up, this message came through. Again and again. And again.

Let go.

Release it all.

You don't need to know.

You have nothing to defend.

Nothing to hide.

Nothing to protect.

Let go of what you are holding onto so tightly.

It will be okay.

You won't die.

You'll see!

Let go...

 

Gratitude, 2010. Acrylic on 16" x 20" maple panel.

When Red Tailed Hawk reaches maturity, it's tail feathers deepen to a beautiful warm red, awakening consciousness at the seat of the soul. Only gratitude remains when true awakening occurs, because the work that must be done is well underway. Though the road ahead contains unseen obstacles, acceptance settles in that the soul is forever safe and aligned with Spirit. Dependencies are shed when it is realized that we are the keepers of our own souls, and why should it be any other way? The one who connects with Red Tail trusts his own insight, seeks answers first from within, and enjoys the warmth of the everlasting creative fire. The gratitude felt when this level is ascended to, ripples out in a divine expression of love and altruism from which the whole Earth benefits, creating a never ending circle of healing, receiving and giving back. All is well when Red Tail graces the sky in front of you.

Do You See Her?

Nothing to fear

nothing to hide

Is what she said

when she found herself

standing in a downpour in warrior pose,

over and over again

I am the dream

and the growth

Release me

along with any ideas about her

the symbol

Care not for thoughts

Mine and always mine for the truth

Especially that one which you yourself

are afraid to hear

Layers and layers of protection,

fear, burn off

Born captive and freed by two hands

two hips and a head

What she's found out to be

a relief

cold washes over her

What she finds to love

unexpected

arms extended up

Home is closer

than you think

in gratitude.

grateful + postcards

new postcard listing...

AND, it's that time again...

i am gathering gratitude like blueberries in a basket destined for a grand pie

gratitude for

inspiring friends

hot with new ideas that move, shake and stir

for my own inspired lamplight

which seems to burn all on it's own at the moment

for dark purple plums hanging by skinny wooden teeth and threatening to drop

from their own juicy weight

for mysterious and wild books that arrive by the magical mail system

for solstice candles burning all night

and for cool waters sprinkling on happy ankles

for perfect quiche

for breezy, warm days that surprisingly don't sear yet

for kind helpers from far away

for little plucks on tiny violins

for outside of the box thinking

for partners who scoff tradition and live their freedom to create

for healthcare providers who make a huge difference with her tiny needles and funny intimate conversation

for possibility of what i haven't yet dared to imagine

for responsibility and peace

for new color and shape

for raw feelings and guts

for good fitting sunglasses and pre-pregnancy skirts

for an old dog with humid breath and long, thick, loving fur and a goofy smile

for days that last longer than i do

for satisfying memories 

for commonality among people

and for you, gentle reader, persistent traveler, friend

i count you today as my blessing among them all.

Pokni

Ivy's lips curled up into a sad face when her Great Granny came to our home for a visit today, but it didn't take long for them to become buds. I wasn't here when my Grammy left, but I heard that my daughter was very sad to see her go. Miles played the mandolin and his violin for her and took photos of her shoes, which he loved because of the little sparkly studs on them.

Both children gravitated toward her in their own way. It makes me wish they were able to spend more time with her. Living near to my great and great-great grandparents was such a blessing for me as a child. They have such wisdoms to impart just by being near them.

My grandma is 85 and made the driving journey yet again from southeastern Oklahoma with some other family members to come to see her loved ones. Since my grandpa passed in March, she has been needing a getaway on her own. Her energy is more subdued than it once was, in a graceful, quiet way. I'm imagining that she is finally getting some rest now, after a very long road of being his primary caretaker.

She's got very loving hands and I love taking pictures of them. We used to poke fun at her for carrying her tissue or crumpled up napkin around for hours. But I do it, too. She picks at her fingernails, and so do I. Hers are busy hands that have long loved rolling out biscuit dough and frying up bacon, piecing together quilts, grinding sausage and hulling peas.

Though we never call her pokni, the Chahta name for grandmother, I like the way it sounds. She is our wise and living ancestor; one whom I've been so blessed to share so many years with.

I honor Willie Laverne today and you, too, for we are all wise ones who are earning our beautiful hands just as she has done.

Easy Mornings

There's only one more day of preschool before the year ends and the children and I are already in vacation mode, eating breakfast outdoors, and dinners, too...sliding and swinging and bouncing as much as we can fit into our days.

Brandon and I have been working on beautifying this corner space on our property since he and my dad tore the hot, rusty, corrugated tin roof off of 4 poles which stand in a rectangle.

A few years ago, I gave him three bamboo plants for our ten year anniversary. My dad bought me the wisteria in the corner. Miles' and Ivy's Nanna bought the petunias that Miles and his Dad later planted in the pots you see. An old table was hauled down from a cabin we owned in the mountains. I traded three massages for the turquoise cottage chairs that often show up in my photographs. A friend gave us two paint-chipped benches that they were tired of looking at. The allyssum has seeded itself again and again, bless its heart. The large frame that the wisteria is peeping through is living out it's second life.

On the Memorial Day holiday, while I was busy working away in my studio all day, Brandon and Miles were wheelbarrowing load after load of pea gravel under the structure, from a mountain which has been sitting next to our driveway for nearly three years. They first covered the tangle of grass and weeds with black gardeners plastic and then filled in the space.

It feels like a Zen garden and I feel relaxed just writing about it. I found a big tray that I used to let Miles sort beans and projects on when he was much younger, and we've been carting it out there each day covered in various drinks, peanut butter on sprouted grain toast, cup after cup of tea, brown rice with golden raisins and almonds, fresh strawberries.

Outdoor spaces and late Spring go together like lemon slices in my water...I hope you find a sanctuary to rest in, too.

walkabout

this has indeed turned out to be a very odd few days

of realizing that it was just under 20 years ago that i made

my exodus from this place, this very street

and that in fact, i am reliving some aspects of that

first year on my own

at tender nineteen

the darks and the lights

remembering how much light was given to me

so that i could turn it around

and share it with those in need

(in los angeles in the nineties there was no shortage of those in need)

and so it's been a time of introspection

contemplation

hanging upside down

sifting through the bones

kneeling over the piles

filling my sack

digging for fire

lifting up stones

lifting a glass

connecting with old friends

trusting that it will all fade and rise like

the quiet smoke

it came in as

resting a bit extra

going with the flow

picking up sticks

making a space

to heal

appreciate

love

Coyotes & New Work

I've been creating away here in my studio for the past month, preparing for my next adventure with Nahcotta and the Enormous Tiny Art Show. I really feel so grateful to continue to be in this show-so many great artists all in one room-heaven to stand among. ETA 3 will be held in Los Angeles, at the Living Room in Silverlake- and I'll put the flyer up here very soon for more details.

Some common threads run through this work. I'm always amazed to see the themes emerge up from my own subconscious. In the end, my head wraps around the messages, seeking ways to understand the applications in my own life, while preparing to let the medicine go out into the world to work its magic.

There are some new aspects about my work that is leaving me feeling a bit more raw, open and vulnerable and so these pieces are special to me. I feel as if I'm connecting more with the medicine of the creatures and their energies. This is a departure from some of the smaller drawings I've created for my paintings in the past. Now the subjects are right up front and center.  (And I actually feel more centered, too)

I've made two of the new pieces available as prints so far in the shop.

This animals in this series are all intriguing to me, friends I've been working with for years, however, I've never seen the connections they share. All are considered to be pests, all are extremely prolific (ie. not soon to be on any endangered species lists), and all are a call to look at my shadow aspects, and turn my perspective upside down to get a better view. I've so enjoyed working with these creatures.

Today, as I journeyed for the messages that accompany each of them, I felt seriously weepy about how much they have helped me on my path. Such strong medicine, from all of them.

I will leave you with an image, my favorite of the group. My inspiration is a Coyote called Clyde, who lives at our local native creature rehab center. He is very special, yet very old. He comes to the fenceline and stretches each time I visit him and we connect and I thank him for his messages. He has a lovely partner, Poppy, who nervously trots about in the pen and occasionally stops to kiss and harrass him (that's her in yesterday's post). But Clyde is at ease in his surroundings. He is the king of his makeshift den and he seems to know that he is getting up in years. 

 

Makes You Stronger, 2010. Mixed-media on 6x6 board.

Coyote travels the rough terrain, establishing territories everywhere. He learns his lessons the hard way, keeping a sense of humor about him as he goes. He turns rigid thinking upside down, preferring to keep it light, while adapting in order to survive. He is a humble teacher, a blissed out fool, an accidental genius. His song carries over mountaintops to find his kind. He is persistent, enduring and prolific. There is nothing he can't do, nowhere he won't go. He is fearless. Coyote outlasts bad weather, yipping contentedly through his long days and many journeys.

And here is a photo I snapped of handsome Clyde earlier this year:

I'm so grateful for this space to share my work, and my thoughts. I'm grateful for this life-in which we are all so blessed to be awake and connected to each other.

Aho, sisters.

Moonstone

Pebbles instead of sand at Moonstone beach.

As I left Bakersfield on Saturday morning, headed west for the artsy little village of Cambria, I noticed a welcome feeling of freedom from scheduled activities and obligatory anything. The forty-six highway is long and winding, and gave me plenty of time in my own bean to think about health, home and happiness.

It was a lovely reunion, both with Kirsten, and with the sea air. When I lay down in the tiny, tumbled pebbles on Moonstone's beach instead of common sand, I felt a great deal of pain in my back where all of the coughing has taken it's toll. Then...a great yank downward. I took deep breaths in and lingered there supine as the waves crashed beyond my feet. I got the immediate sense that I'd been gifted with what I'd come for: a healing.

The energy of the jade, jasper and all of the other beautiful little stones that are so old and full of motion and ability was incredible. I didn't want to leave. I made an offering of a couple of my hairs and one throaty verse of a song and then we were off to breakfast at our favorite little spot for chilaquiles.

I loved it there so much that I'm going back for Mother's Day this weekend, at *mother Ocean*... Back for more time in those little healing pebbles. Because I can't get her out of my head. And my lungs are begging for more. I want to run a mile down the water's edge and may do just that.

While I'm there, I'll be brewing something fun to share a bit later here...stay tuned for that little surprise, yip yip yip:)

Photo by Kirsten Crilly using some kind of really awesome Nikon.

grateful list

it's time to count them.

the blessings.

*doctors who return phone calls. and then follow up again with answers.

*soup made by dad with all of our local farm box ingredients

*chamomile tea from actual just-cut flowers

*the beltane wolves who keep me company at night

*working in little snippets of time in the studio again

*mom's dedication to helpfulness

*dad's bottomless generosity

*salty umeboshi plums and kuzu broth

*friends who send crude late night youtube videos to send me into the rib splits

*cobalt teal pg 50 fluid

*plumberry pie

*receiving the best goodies in the mail from sweeties

*date sunday with miles so we can have some "one on one time, mama"

*purple glitter pedicure (colors chosen by miles)

*pamela's gluten-free peanut butter cookies

*longer stretches of sleep

*new checks with butterflies on them

*airing it out

*taped up drawings of wolves on trampolines (who also have a view of the mountains)

*pink lady apples and peanut butter

*hot, early morning showers

*prepregnancy jeans

*this amazing space to connect

Air

Never before have I so appreciated AIR. My dear Wendy sent this to me last week:

In Praise of Air by John O'Donohue

Let us bless the air,
Benefactor of breath,
Keeper of the fragile bridge
We breathe across.

Air waiting outside
The womb, to funnel
A first breath
That lets us begin
To be here,
Each moment
Drawn from
Its invisible stock.

Air: vast neighborhood
Of the invisible, where thought lives,
Entering to arise in us as our own,
Enabling us to put faces on things
That would otherwise stay strange
And leave us homeless here.

Air, home of memory where
Our vanished days secretly gather,
Receiving every glance, word and act
That fall from presence,
Taking all our unfolding in,
So that nothing is lost or forgotten.

Air: reservoir of the future
Out of which our days flow,
Ferrying their shadowed nights,
The invisible generosity,
that brings us future friends
And sometimes stones of sorrow
On which our minds refine.

Air along whose unseen path
Presence builds its quiet procession;
Sometimes in waves of sound,
Voices that can persuade
Every door of the heart;
Often in tides of music
That absolve the cut of time.

Air: source of breath
That enables flowers to flourish,
And calls the dark, rooted trees
To ascend into blossom.

Air, perfect emptiness
For the mind of birds
To map with vanishings;
Womb of forms
That shapes embraces
To hold animal presence.

Air makes the distance kind,
Opening pathways to free the eye
To reach the affections of things,
Yet never lets its invisible geography
Come anywhere near though
Or the voyage-edges of the eye.

Air: kingdom of spirit
Where our departed dwell,
Nearer to us than ever,
Where the gods preside.

Let us bless the invigoration
Of clean, fresh air.

The gentleness of air
That holds and slows the rain,
Lets it fall down.

The shyness of air
That never shows its face.

The force of air
In wall after wall
Of straining wind.

In the name of the air,
The breeze,
And the wind,
May our souls
Stay in rhythm
With eternal
Breath.

Somerset Life

How amazingly fun to see my photos and work in one of Stampington's publications today! Working with this team has been not only delightful, but really warming to know that they truly do serve artists. They work so hard to make us look so good!

 
I want to thank Thea Coughlin, who took the photos of me with my family for the piece. If you feel inspired, flip through one of Stampington's publications at your local bookseller's. They are packed with inspiration and amazing photographs from an array of clever artists.

 

Journey to the Sun

Marion Clinton Carr, 1925-2010. With his "Daddy", sometime around the 1950's.

My Grandpa was a jolly, old Badger with a wonderful wit and a lovely flavor for bluegrass music. His father was full-blooded Choctaw and a translator for the Oklahoma court system. He was also quite a drinker-though my grandfather did not follow his example. He was a strong bull of a man in his day and he always tried to make good choices for his family. He was extremely creative at making a simple living; he and my grandmother came from a generation that never really wanted, or wanted for anything, save for their family to have enough to eat, and to be happy. He never, ever forgot a kindness, including the burrito I made him for lunch when I was 11 years old. He was our peanut-farming patriarch and he is the reason why I believe so much in the idea of family.

As I sift through my reservoir of memories, it's the things my sweet Grandpa said that stand out the most. Sentimentality seemed difficult for him, though he made the most sincere go of it.

"I love you, Grandpa."

"I do you, too."

"See you later, Grandpa."

"Come here and hug my neck."

His old, familiar diction imprinted me for life. He was surely a creature of habit. As soon as he was finished with breakfast, he'd ask about what time supper would be and...what do you think we'll have? He was the last to leave the table, chewing on a chicken bone and stuffing a biscuit and bacon sandwich in his pocket for later. He taught me what to say if you want to pull your mule team to the right or to the left. He told the very same stories again and again, to our delight and rolling eyes. I love the way his children humored him and he always delivered the jokey goods. He once poured freezing cold water on my Grandma while she showered-his pranks were sometimes more fun in the telling than in the moment.

He was a Badger, storymaking...keeping our family fat on memories of history as he recounted it.

He sat in his worn out chair, in their last days in California, humming gospel songs and slipping in a Hank Williams now and again, to my grandmother's shaking head and wagging finger. In fact, he suggested I rename my dog Blue Audrey so that I would have a pair like the real Hank and his wife. Except that in his Oklahoma drawl, he pronounced it "Ardrie".

Ivy and I will make the journey back to the the homeland tomorrow, along with my dad, to pay our respects, to slip a little travellin' medicine into his time machine, revisit some more memories, and to love on Grandma. 

Grandfather Sun, I listen to your teachings.

I feel your guidance.

Your warmth fills me.

You make me grow unshakeable in spirit and mind.

Aho.

Mitakuye Oyasin.

On the other side, then.

Pink

We're beginning to pink up a bit over here. This weekend has been quiet and healing, just what was needed. So much so, that right in this moment, I have to make a grateful list.

*For dead sea salt. In our baths, up my nose, in the misty Vick's Inhalation Steamer that specifies not to add anything to it.

*For daikon radish, carrots, celery, broth, roasted chicken in cast iron and B's magical spices that made it the rockingest soup ever.

*For lavender, lemon, eucalyptus, sweet orange and tea tree oils. You guys are so wonderful together in a bit pan of water on the stove. Thank you for your sweet, antiseptic aroma.

*For bath forts and beautiful fabric tacked into the ceiling and the husband that lights fig and current candles and sends me in to sink in with headphones for as long as I wish.

*For friends I'd hack my arm off to be neighbors with, and those I cry for when I find out our gathering is cancelled...again.

*For almond cardamom honeyed caramels and the goddess who keeps them on my desk.

*For wee little spring goddesses who are about to turn one and believe, with full conviction, that the world is her oyster.

*For a young violinist who, despite his intense lack of energy, found many ways to make his sister laugh from his permanent position on the couch.

*For meditations on aforementioned headphones and visions of full, playful, soul expression dancing in my fuzzy head. 

*For lucid dreams that do my healing work for me since I don't feel up to working on it during my waking hours.

*For spirit guides and animals who show up again and again, to bring messages I can really use.

*For false Spring and rain, for perfect Bachian windchimes, and warm dogs like heating pads under the covers, for loves coming to this coast for a season, and for inspiration everywhere...

From the Attic

We're getting so close, and I'm feeling so very, very full.  Sleeping is getting a bit tight, I feel quite like The Tick, if you can remember that comicbook TV hero, squashed neatly into his tight blue getup, but me without the superhuman strength.

Tonite I'm painting, but reading some while the coats dry.  Tell me if you can relate to this:

"I'm sending you on a very lonely road. No one will ever truly understand you. They think they know you, but they don't know what you're thinking about, they don't know the feelings that you have, how sometimes even in a busy, crowded place you need to make certain contact, and to do so, you need to be somewhat withdrawn. That's why, in a social situation it's very uncomfortable for you just to sit down and talk to pass the time: 'Oh, yes, this and all that. Oh, isn't it wonderful, and my, I saw a beautiful chair in the store window the other day. And, gosh, the way they were dressed.' These aren't things you can relate to when you carry medicine.  So it's sort of a lonely road, but in the end, it's worthwhile. It's all worthwhile."

--Bear Heart, The Wind is My Mother

I think being a creative person is, too, like carrying sacred medicine. The mind and the heart engage a little differently than in some folks. And a lonely road it can seem to be at times.

******From the archives, exactly one year ago...*******

Ivy Tallulah, 11 months old.

How the time do fly.

 

Honoring the Darkness

If health feels like deep, pranic breathing, then the last week has been tiny sips of air. Combining all of my intentions to attend to my childrens' needs before anything else, be a working artist and conduct a fair and soulful relationship with my partner is, at times, an impossibly tall order! Sometimes the expectations are a set-up for the afore-blogged anxiety to come right on in.

Thank you all for your comments on my last post. I'm very touched to connect about this issue. It's less often that I choose to write about the hairy, unkempt aspects of trying to be Super-everything, but when I do, I'm always glad I did. The pressure valve gets released when I send the energy out into the world to transform and it feels a bit like everyone gets a little healing from it. I'm still releasing, and I expect this will go on all week. Hopefully from a comfortable chair.

The blessing in all of this is not the eventual change that comes from realizing something must shift, but that the shadow gets revealed and receives the comfort that it deserves by being held into the light. Which is all it really wants, if I could guess at it. The shadowy parts are born from being shoved down into the recesses originally, so no wonder they seep up like unruly weeds fighting me all the way!

It occurred to me that doing this job (mama + artist + allotherhatsrequired) requires rigorous training. Which could look like sitting still for as long as possible, in my case!

Self-care is the thing I have to schedule in order to keep those muscles tuned up. In the year of giving birth to Ivy, I feel out of shape in all ways! I'm going to be thinking hard about what it could look like in the new year. Will you join me? How is being a woman like being an athlete to you, if so? How do you stay fit?My recurring thought is that I can't perform this job on little to no sleep. I'm looking forward to creating some healthy solutions in this area.

Though it will be a little while before the sun makes it's physical return, I'm honoring the darkness while gratefully inviting the warmth and light to return to this side of the earth (and to me). I feel the beautiful decay of my crinkling, papery skin slipping against my smooth, underlying scales and letting go.

I'm grateful for this moment between seasons...just as it is.