my true self has been clamoring for a hair cut.
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.
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 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. :)
|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.|
WE ARE THE CENTER OF THE MANDALA.
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
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.