My dad passed away thursday afternoon at about 2 o’clock. it was sort of unexpectedly expected. We knew it was a looming possibility but not an immediate or inevitable certainty. It took me by surprise, but not shock. In the car ride on the way over, I didn’t know yet if he had died or if he would live. I couldn’t fully simultaneously contemplate the dual possibilities . So I just drove. I was fairly calm and peace when I heard the news, officially. I sat at the edge of the bed and patted my dad’s foot in its black sock for a while when they let us stay with the body. It felt sort of normal that way. More like a hospital visit and less like a goodbye. I am okay. I am fine right now. I am with my family. When I am done with that I’ll have time to think about how I actually feel. For right now, there is no feeling there is just doing. That is maybe as it should be. Love and peace. Corbid.
the opening and closing of various gates…
Dec 31st, 08
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…and so another year ends, in sickness and in health…good fortunes to perfectly balance the bad…a year that canceled itself out, more or less…I let it go out quietly, hoping for a louder season, a much much brighter, louder season this next circling of the sun…sometimes we relish the quiet…but may we not go gently this time around…life being for the living and all of that…Happy Janus’ Day…
Myth of the day: Cingaya the Beautiful, Virgin of the 5 Towns (A Basque Legend)
Dec 29th, 08
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This is a Basque tale that echoes the tale of Dante and Beatrice somewhat, albeit with a much happier ending…
Gwenhwyfar lived to be old, Elaine did not…
Nov 12th, 08
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…and the girls we once were float down the River to time and go under. Drowned, we all assume.
But then again…lots of unexplained, feminine looking, sword brandishing hands emerging from the misty waters in these stories…had to have come from somewhere, originally…it’s not as though they ever found the bodies…dead is not always so very dead in faery tales…
Strange dreams and disrupted R.E.M. Sleep as a direct result of bizarre Jungian reading material…
Found a copy of a book I read when I was 17 or thereabouts. I remember the gist of it, but none of the actual story.
Forgot what an esoteric MythoLiterary Geek I used to be…
I asked for an Oxford Unabridged dictionary for Christmas when I was 15 and improvised a TV Tray podium for it and the purloined single volume patent leather bound Complete Works of Shakespeare that I had snuck off the family reference shelf to read for fun in moments of idle brooding.
I used to keep a photocopied black and white portrait of Percy Shelley in my notebook the way most teenage girls pin up bubblegum idols. Ask Lizzie. Lizzie was way more Lord Byron. Coincidentally, or maybe notsomuch, Bowie around that time did a short film for the “Blue Jean” extended video in which he played a character called “Screaming Lord Byron.”
The fish ate Shelley’s face. That’s how he died, or rather he drowned in Italy, but by the time they found his body the fish had eaten his face. It seemed important to us at the time, but of course by then he’d have been long dead anyway…
Gratefulness: 7 things on a Sunday Morning
Nov 9th, 08
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1)Listening to our local “pirate” radio station run by baby Anarchists:www.freeradiochukshon.org
2)Breakfast is hostess cupcakes and mexican dark coffee with cream on the porch with candles and incense and the Sunday paper. Dishes can wait…
3)We won, we won, we fucking won…I volunteered my time and $5 I couldn’t afford to a candidate that actually won! I kind of feel like a Timequake has occurred (apologies to K. Vonnegut) and the spiritual resurgence of Clinton era ideals actually makes me 19 again somehow. I feel like it’s finally safe to start my life over again and do things right this time.
4)Time is tight and money’s even tighter, but I am getting more resourceful by the minute. This morning, for instance, I have thrown a pot of beef stew in the oven for lunch,simultaneously lowering our heating bill and preventing wasteful takeout food spending. If it ever came down to it, I know how to make vinegar out of raw apple cider, for fuck’s sake, I got pioneer survival skills, I can certainly live without ordering pizza on a Friday night or two…
5)Spent this Friday night watching Jimmy Stewart movies with my 6 year old and eating white cheddar popcorn and leftover Halloween candy while my 11 year old wrote “littlest pet shop” screenplays in MS Notepad to be acted out with her sister later.
6)Got enough sleep for a change. I could have slept for years. I love it when the seasons change because in summer the daylight and the heat start seeping in early in the morning on weekends and you can never get back to sleep. The downside of our Arizona existence.
7)The depression I didn’t know I was in is slowly lifting. My mind is not blocked and I can write again. I feel like I can stand the company of other people again. My thoughts have time to drift again and it feels like the world will not suffer and drown for their drifting.
Election MySpace digest…
Nov 6th, 08
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Wednesday, November 05, 2008
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Monday, November 03, 2008
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Wednesday, October 15, 2008
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luminous
anxious
Sep 15th, 08
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Still struggling to find my lost voice. Perhaps I should post a flyer on a telephone pole. My gutlessness is a daily disappointment to the carrion birds.
Contents Under Pressure May Explode…
Sep 13th, 08
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Inarticulation has reached critical mass. I have always been so good at holding things together even when I don’t hold things together. Pathologically even tempered. Lately though I feel like I am on 24 hour permanent on call status for everyone. I have so much I am responsible for everywhere that I cannot get anything done anywhere. I have reached the proverbial breaking point. One thing on the pile too many. I am a raw and aching nerve. I am irrationally, inexpressably angry and anxious and unable to cope. I know a lot of this is hormone related. The timing is not coincidental – I a bleeding and raging and I am a pathetic disintegrative mess. I think I used to feel this way more often, it’s just foreign to me know and I can’t process the anger that comes with it, other than to hole up in my room or in a corner and neglect everything I should be doing rather than risk snapping at someone or something. My house is a wreck. There are no clean dishes left. I have to work tomorrow. I can’t sleep. My escape the house for the evening plans got cancelled at the last minute. I want to scream and break things or just give up but Ibut I know this will all seem trite and silly in the morning or in a day or whenever it stops.
La Loteria…
Sep 1st, 08
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I’ve just randomly discovered that those eerie images one sees on Downtown area folkart matchbooks and wooden ladder games does indeed have a history…You know, the images of “The Mermaid” and “El Diablo” and “El Corazon?” The official name is Loteria and it’s yet another example of wild and uncultivated mythology echoing Appalachian English Folk Songs or the African pantheons in Santeria
Loteria is one among many semi-ancient traditions still alive in Mexico by way of long journeys through history, migration and traditional lore. It is part Tarot, part “bingo” game and part esoteric mystery cult. The cards are the symbolic answers to riddles or rather the question to each answer, like a Jeapordy game hosted by the Sphynx…
A guide to Loteria Riddles
Examples:
“The Blanket of the Poor” equals The Sun
“He that sang to St. Peter will not return to sing again” is The Rooster
There’s not a lot out on the web re the deeper meaning of all this, but being who I am I am of course about to go all Robert Graves on it and traverse the wilds of the electronic frontier to delve into the history and meaning of it all. Armchair Mythologists of the world unite and take over…
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Currently listening : In the Aeroplane Over the Sea By Neutral Milk Hotel Release date: 1998-02-10  |