seeking the wild of the everyday

Monday, August 24, 2015


(i attempted to, and could not bear the chaos, of catching up on the whole summer in one post. blame disorganization. you're welcome.)

my true self has been clamoring for a hair cut.

a buzz.
 a pixie.


constantly i am tempted to shave my head.
oh no, my small mind gasps,
you'd look so ugly!

vanity pipes up:
your gorgeous cobalt and sky blue hair? hell no.

cultural mind mentions i would no longer be attractive to men, and reminds me how much society values those who are attractive, just a thought.

damn you, terrence mckenna, making me question everything, and all that good shit

(here is an inspirational two minute clip about becoming a creator/living creatively.... watch it, i dare you.)

in one wonderfully bubbly morning moment, with nothing but fresh air and sunshine in my system,
i found some scissors, grabbed a handful of hair, cut into it,
and repeated on the other side of my head.

i set the tail of hair down on the sink.
it was over.
i've been giddy with empowerment.
it might be a small thing, a hair cut.
but start small. start somewhere. 

i ask myself: what else have i been too afraid to do, but always wanted?
exploring oppression of self,
breaking up the suffocating concrete of attachment to image...

yo moonshinejunkyard, dig the batik? <3 (thanks again.)

"pink noodles." thank you, beet juice. their own creation. :)

i guess you could say it was a good day...overall.....  (slaps knee)

so easy to wander with.

late summer, ursa major near the horizon.

the most beautiful rainbow corn pollen.

there is a massacre at cattail. it's late august.
we have been fairly satisfied with our progress, always telling each other we need to commit more, to work harder, but none the less enjoying the more than enough harvest of organic veggies and feeling congratulatory on our first summer at cattail.
but back to the massacre:
young melons we'd been eyeing with excitement shrivel up, the plants have been gnawed away at the roots.

anyone else reminded of ferdinand the bull?

as we look up and around to see if there's a trend our curiosity turns to a small horror as we see yellow, shriveled plant after plant.

now what?

the two beds where we planted 12 different variety of fall and winter veggies, foamy green with new sprouts, picked clean the next day by naughty daddy quail and his teenage cubby--- i know you have mouths to feed daddy quail, but so do i!

remains from ryan's 'shift' at cattail.

i like being self-employed. cattail is an education and a career. it just takes patience, and my kids can be there. it does need to be supplemented at this point. bless all of our creative endeavors to keep rent! :) i fancy myself an artist, a struggling farmer artist. so i'm not technically starving. ;)
 i wake up in the morning to the sounds of the earth rousing. my children slip out of their sleeping bags, put on their shoes, and start their morning harvest in the garden, eating the freshest tomatoes and cucumbers to tide themselves over 'til i fully wake and make their oatmeal.

some may call it living poor but i call it living simply.
it's overwhelmingly blissful and worth the challenges that accompany it

thinking about gymnastics/christmas presents/other things i cant afford but want to provide for my children because i don't want them to "lack," due to my lack of funds---

but they just spent the whole summer outside, bathing in lakes, picking berries, and watching food grow.

i think we're gonna be okay. :)
the office.
 day off:
 magically, occasionally, there's an afternoon/day/minute where we're all off---- and both of my kids are with their respective co-parents----and i go play with my forever young friends.

alicia's bed is the coziest. one night i read from on the road to them. i love these kids.

gotta check that insta

 "i don't know if i am cool or not but i am incredibly resistant to any effort to make me think i am uncool... in other words because the answer always lies in the commodification..." terrence mckenna

remember that time we tried on each other's physical identities? we laughed so hard. i couldn't ever imagine being so perfectly stylish as this dear is, and i was shocked to see how dorky my clothes are! truly, i'm tacky. :/

i'd tell you, but you wouldn't understand. the ugly duckling has found her home.

let the religious get religion,
let consumers get a clue
let scientists get perspective
let activists get their due
let industry get a conscience
let the earth inherit the meek
let the divinity of nature speak

-the atom, ani deFranco

last tuesday

there are a great and many things i'd like to say about this, and perhaps some day i will, but at this point it defies explanation or simple narrative.
i'll share what i wrote in a notebook:

It's funny. I go and visit him now, in his big house just for him and link. It's spotless, he's cheerful and witty. 
Believe it or not, he's still my best friend despite it all. It's been rough, the hardest thing ever...I'm pretty lucky.

yes, i'm lucky.

polly compost

Friday, June 12, 2015


i'll be totally honest,
my life is very exciting right now.

exciting the way an adventure feels,
like frodo grasping his way through varied landscapes;

i think i know where i am going.
i feel like i know what i am doing.

it does not mean it is always easy.
or the path clear.
or without pain

but surely the adventure of life is indeed grand.
i meet the right people.
i hear the right words.
i look forward with courage.
i evolve.
i resolve to trust.

these photos were captured april-june,
taking place in a jumble:
portland/cattail hollow/my folks' place in placerville/roseville wilds/yosemite.
this post was constructed/neglected/composed in small stolen moments in the same time frame,
in a variety of moods.

these pictures want a home.

we built beds from recycled scraps

not busted.

diana, the goddess of green and creature and healing.
witch sleepover

good medicine:
a salve a balm
cooler than fresh cut aloe
on the back
after a full day at
colombia river gorge
nurturing the inner child,
sewing patches of courage on a protective sweater.

really. it doesn't get any realer than this. :) omfg i love her.

sword fern


bleeding hearts

wonderlust delirium; euphoric.

that wild creature on the right hopped trains and thumbed to portland. we met up just in time for me to head home.

neon sea of horestail

green future city
building coven networks
home bound

swords. all day long and all the night. who knew?
 i miss my baby. my gorgeous tender wild baby-- who is now three and full of amazing stories he tells in a chipmunk voice. i cry --cry- face splitting open, when i leave him for work, but he always has a safe place to be, and for this i am grateful. <3
all i see is work: trenching sawing gluing testing. we finished building and tested the system in april. triumph.

what can i say? family comes in many forms.

solar pumped water. :)
teddy's school, where tree climbing is part of the cirriculum. :)
ryan in his tiny green thumbed fortress.
dirt beard/farm day

farm nap.

my beautiful momma. my childhood country home. i'm a blessed girl.

sweet pea


who puts up fences? these guys.

cattail campout

out grown

you can't fool the children of the revolution


mmmhmmm. but seriously, will you take me as i am? the soundtrack.

watching my children play in the very places i wandered in my own childhood. my inner child laughs along.

medicine for my mom: fruit on her struggling trees. the past decade has been poor in production, i think the trees are finally adapting to the weird.

be still my beating heart: we have a reader. :)

teddy's baby garden at cattail, first snow turnip. :)

lincoln shows me where he stores his treasures.

it happened: i broke a broadfork. :/ ms muscles

"havin' a hard time..." -lincoln

i call this the magic school bus. :) i'm ms frizzle

the rising generation----tomatoes and iphones in hand.

 the field and surrounding forests buzz with life--- all day it's woodpeckers and swallowtail butterflies- i feel so blessed. my heart brims: yes.

mike arranges "tacos" for the dehydrator.
me: creepin'.
the green boheme is a fully raw/vegan restaurant. it also offers raw meal plans and raw education. i love this place. it just opened; the rules are still being written.
we have a strong, young, and creative team.
we're already composting, soon with worms, in a non-disclosed health code approved location. ;)

my dreams of producing for and working at a farm to fork restaurant are in the works.
mike's farm to fork restaurant resume is impressive.
the first time he visited cattail he built a bed and practially ran across the field with a wheelbarrow filled with manure.
he makes me feel like i have the pace of a sloth.
i adore the rustic earthy nutritious flavors of local produce.
farming is a public service.
home is with my boys.

every year i go to yosemite. this year my heart was boggled with how different my life is since my last visit.
it was challenging.

a healthy dose of bitter and sweet.

introspective. lonely. granite hugs at home.

camp dinner prep.

fire builders.

i've found my tribe of misfits,
wincing from socio/ecological injustice--

this wild twin set feels like a refuge.
an affirmation from the universe that i am just fine the way i am;
that i am not alone.

train hoppers
book readers
star gazers
frustrated angsty teen years;
i adore these kids.

these are the two that hopped right on board when i explained the cattail opportunity,
and i am forever grateful to them.
we create a stronger vision and web when there's more connected:

i think it's time for a proper introduction:
chrid:  part cancer/leo/wizard/jester/yogi/radical cuddly house cat/nomad/bike mechanic/tree hugger/itchy feet

ryan:  part cactus/prep cook/food-oholic/hip/surly/vulgar/quick witted/april 7 twin/hilarious

took them home.

introducing the brothers to the mother.

stopping on the way home,
a midnight
on 49, golden and rolling-\a familiar
road from yosemite to
the hills barely lit
beneath blazing stars\crickets
filling the sweet air

stars so brightwelaughed

this lost clan
of misfits,

the green boheme :)

this kid is a water diviner. :) he finds it everywhere.

"he spoke of very simple things, that it is the right for a gull to fly, that freedom is the very nature of his being, that whatever stands against that freedom must be set aside, be it ritual or superstition or limitation in any form." --jonathan livingston seagull

a month after my portland visit my fairy queen blessed cattail with her wisdom.

it may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives. nourish it then, that it may leaf and bloom and fill with singing birds...  -black elk

the words and feelings come out jumbled-
there's a lot to process

there is an old house a few blocks from my place, where the trees are mature
and the neighborhood full
of personality.
i park my bike and head in. ryan and alicia live here
so does howard. :) and maybelle and fitzgerald.

i've wormed my way into their cozy platonic triangle of bosom buddies.

buzz lightyear  :) xoxo

we own these steets at night.

at 27 i find myself on my own for the very first time,
with two kids in tow.
it's a little hard-knocky at times
but there are so many
signs all along the way,
dreaming the dreams
following the
my heart keeps safe
for me.

when i found magic i knew i was close....

i soak my mary janes in a field of daisys at cattail, playing with the flowers, tipsy with globes of water. this is a refuge. a happy harvest, mint to be sold and served at the green boheme-- this is what content feels like, says My Heart, with a satisfied sigh.

foraging for clues and greens

can you believe ryan and that boot? hashtag farm lyfe.

pond splashers

farmer reads
 doubt fear shame
those are
my flat tires
my heavy coats
on hot

shrinking my light as i hide from those shadows---
it's okay.

i set my sights on what i can bring into existence.

linky gobbled the bounty up.

simple pleasures, like fresh greens.

planning stomach fluttery trips.

you don't need to take the vision quest; go on a re-vision quest. ---arlington, the dish washer at the boheme, speaking to me in a dream.

re-calibrating my motherhood.
receptive to light/
acceptance of self.  (thanks, amy, sweet sister.)


always more to come,

polly compost