December 31, 2006
December 29, 2006
Zero Circle
by Rumi
Be helpless, dumbfounded
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.
We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we're lying.
If we say No, we don't see it,that
No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.
So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence,
Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.
by Rumi
Be helpless, dumbfounded
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.
We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we're lying.
If we say No, we don't see it,that
No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.
So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence,
Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.
December 27, 2006
December 7, 2006
"But that was not the same snow," I say.
"Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely -ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards."
"Were there postmen then, too?"
"With sprinkling eyes and wind-cherried noses, on spread, frozen feet they crunched up to the doors and mittened on them manfully. But all that the children could hear was a ringing of bells."
"You mean that the postman went rat-a-tat-tat and the doors rang?"
"I mean that the bells the children could hear were inside them."
"I only hear thunder sometimes, never bells."
"There were church bells, too."
"Inside them?"
"No, no, no, in the bat-black, snow-white belfries, tugged by bishops and storks. And they rang their tidings over the bandaged town, over the frozen foam of the powder and ice-cream hills, over the crackling sea. It seemed that all the churches boomed for joy under my window; and the weathercocks crew for Christmas, on our fence."
"Get back to the postmen"
"They were just ordinary postmen, found of walking and dogs and Christmas and the snow. They knocked on the doors with blue knuckles ...."
"Ours has got a black knocker...."
"And then they stood on the white Welcome mat in the little, drifted porches and huffed and puffed, making ghosts with their breath, and jogged from foot to foot like small boys wanting to go out."
"And then the presents?"
"And then the Presents, after the Christmas box. And the cold postman, with a rose on his button-nose, tingled down the tea-tray-slithered run of the chilly glinting hill. He went in his ice-bound boots like a man on fishmonger's slabs. "He wagged his bag like a frozen camel's hump, dizzily turned the corner on one foot, and, by God, he was gone."
"Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely -ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards."
"Were there postmen then, too?"
"With sprinkling eyes and wind-cherried noses, on spread, frozen feet they crunched up to the doors and mittened on them manfully. But all that the children could hear was a ringing of bells."
"You mean that the postman went rat-a-tat-tat and the doors rang?"
"I mean that the bells the children could hear were inside them."
"I only hear thunder sometimes, never bells."
"There were church bells, too."
"Inside them?"
"No, no, no, in the bat-black, snow-white belfries, tugged by bishops and storks. And they rang their tidings over the bandaged town, over the frozen foam of the powder and ice-cream hills, over the crackling sea. It seemed that all the churches boomed for joy under my window; and the weathercocks crew for Christmas, on our fence."
"Get back to the postmen"
"They were just ordinary postmen, found of walking and dogs and Christmas and the snow. They knocked on the doors with blue knuckles ...."
"Ours has got a black knocker...."
"And then they stood on the white Welcome mat in the little, drifted porches and huffed and puffed, making ghosts with their breath, and jogged from foot to foot like small boys wanting to go out."
"And then the presents?"
"And then the Presents, after the Christmas box. And the cold postman, with a rose on his button-nose, tingled down the tea-tray-slithered run of the chilly glinting hill. He went in his ice-bound boots like a man on fishmonger's slabs. "He wagged his bag like a frozen camel's hump, dizzily turned the corner on one foot, and, by God, he was gone."
December 5, 2006
November 28, 2006
November 8, 2006
From the Beautiful Beloved Bonnie
From an email from Bonnie, who, apparently, includes me amongst her "children" -- ah, the welcome blessings of intimate relationship:
I did talk to the dentist today about a mouth guard that stops snoring by keeping your lower jaw, and thus tongue, forward. Doubt it's going to happen soon since it will cost 1000.00 buck-a-roos and dental insurance doesn't cover it. I guess it all depends on how bad my snoring is bugging ny sweet baboo.
Grandma used to snore so loudly that I would have lawn mower dreams at her house. Then I would wake suddenly in the night and think a bear was roaming around the house looking for children. Now it all makes sense why grandpa slept in a different bedroom all those years.
I did love mornings and the snare drum solos of rain on her open beam roof and coffee brewing. Breakfast was a happy meal at her house. Eggs, bacon, hot cereal, pancakes, juice... she cooked like we were a logging crew. Then I would be walked. There was the "through the trees" walk where grandpa would instruct and expect true learning of all the flora. There was the "river walk" where he would tell the story of "the Columbus Day flood" and we would look for agates and jade at the shallow edge of the rapid water. There was the "share information about neighbors walk" where I was instructed about the demographics, occupation, talents or weaknesses of the occupants of each house we passed by.
On one such walk when I was about nine, we passed one neighbor and there were polite exchanges given, but outside of ear shot I was told to watch out by that house because he was a lecherous old man. I remember wondering if what was said was true, why he hadn't been punched in the nose rather than given a pleasant greeting .
By the time we returned, grandma would be hanging the laundry out on her square spinning rack. I had to supress the urge to run into the flapping sheets and twist all up in the smell of it.
The only down side to staying at grandma's was her absolute conviction that enemas were the foundation of good health, and she wanted healthy grandchildren. So be grateful that your grandmother only had the absolute conviction that children should be educated and you were religiously toted off to the science museum !!!!
Women deserve to have absolute convictions by the time they've reached the age and maturity of grandmotherhood. I'm working on mine, and I'll announce them as soon as I've decided what's important enough to inflict upon grandchildren. So look out. love, mom
I did talk to the dentist today about a mouth guard that stops snoring by keeping your lower jaw, and thus tongue, forward. Doubt it's going to happen soon since it will cost 1000.00 buck-a-roos and dental insurance doesn't cover it. I guess it all depends on how bad my snoring is bugging ny sweet baboo.
Grandma used to snore so loudly that I would have lawn mower dreams at her house. Then I would wake suddenly in the night and think a bear was roaming around the house looking for children. Now it all makes sense why grandpa slept in a different bedroom all those years.
I did love mornings and the snare drum solos of rain on her open beam roof and coffee brewing. Breakfast was a happy meal at her house. Eggs, bacon, hot cereal, pancakes, juice... she cooked like we were a logging crew. Then I would be walked. There was the "through the trees" walk where grandpa would instruct and expect true learning of all the flora. There was the "river walk" where he would tell the story of "the Columbus Day flood" and we would look for agates and jade at the shallow edge of the rapid water. There was the "share information about neighbors walk" where I was instructed about the demographics, occupation, talents or weaknesses of the occupants of each house we passed by.
On one such walk when I was about nine, we passed one neighbor and there were polite exchanges given, but outside of ear shot I was told to watch out by that house because he was a lecherous old man. I remember wondering if what was said was true, why he hadn't been punched in the nose rather than given a pleasant greeting .
By the time we returned, grandma would be hanging the laundry out on her square spinning rack. I had to supress the urge to run into the flapping sheets and twist all up in the smell of it.
The only down side to staying at grandma's was her absolute conviction that enemas were the foundation of good health, and she wanted healthy grandchildren. So be grateful that your grandmother only had the absolute conviction that children should be educated and you were religiously toted off to the science museum !!!!
Women deserve to have absolute convictions by the time they've reached the age and maturity of grandmotherhood. I'm working on mine, and I'll announce them as soon as I've decided what's important enough to inflict upon grandchildren. So look out. love, mom
October 26, 2006
Into White
I built my house from barley rice
Green pepper walls and water ice
Tables of paper wood, windows of light
And everything emptying into
White.
A simple garden, with acres of sky
A Brown-haired dogmouse
If one dropped by
Yellow Delanie would sleep well at night
With everything emptying into
White.
A sad Blue eyed drummer rehearses outside
A Black spider dancing on top of his eye
Red legged chicken stands ready to strike
And everything emptying into
White.
I built my house from barley rice
Green pepper walls and water ice...
And everything emptying into
White
by my childhood friend -- Cat Stevens
Green pepper walls and water ice
Tables of paper wood, windows of light
And everything emptying into
White.
A simple garden, with acres of sky
A Brown-haired dogmouse
If one dropped by
Yellow Delanie would sleep well at night
With everything emptying into
White.
A sad Blue eyed drummer rehearses outside
A Black spider dancing on top of his eye
Red legged chicken stands ready to strike
And everything emptying into
White.
I built my house from barley rice
Green pepper walls and water ice...
And everything emptying into
White
by my childhood friend -- Cat Stevens
from the sublime to the ridiculous, thanks to my parents, again
A woman, standing nude, looks in the bedroom mirror and says to her husband,
"I feel horrible, I look fat and ugly. Pay me a compliment."
The husband replies,
"Your eyesight's damn near perfect."
He never heard the shot....
"I feel horrible, I look fat and ugly. Pay me a compliment."
The husband replies,
"Your eyesight's damn near perfect."
He never heard the shot....
October 20, 2006
Maya the marvelous
"Still I Rise"
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
October 18, 2006
October 8, 2006
October 3, 2006
September 27, 2006
September 26, 2006
September 21, 2006
September 13, 2006
September 10, 2006
blessed
Sept.11, 2001
Moments of clarity amidst the fog of tragedy...
I remember you saying last year
She’s gone
(I hardly knew her, but mourned her with you)
He never woke-up,
and one January,
He just slipped away
leaving only a confused body behind him.
All so alive
And not nearly old enough to leave...
And I realize that
This is just a season
of mortality
In our eternal lives.
I look at the images
of children I love
and hunger to hold them
And make all the world right for them.
And I listen to the sky
Waiting for the wails and screams
to be brought by the wind to me
But what I hear instead
is the silence of the Universal Voice
SINGING
YOU ARE BLESS-ED
September 6, 2006
September 2, 2006
long weekend ripe with mischief
President Bush & Brazilians
Donald Rumsfeld is briefing George Bush in the Oval Office. "Oh and finally, sir, three Brazilian soldiers were killed in Iraq today."
Bush goes pale, his jaw hanging open in stunned disbelief. He buries his face in his hands, muttering "My God...My God..."
"Mr. President", says Cheney, "we lose soldiers all the time, and it's terrible. But I've never seen you so upset. What's the matter?"
Bush looks up and says...."How many is a Brazilian?"
thanks to my personal potter/publicist for the joke!
Donald Rumsfeld is briefing George Bush in the Oval Office. "Oh and finally, sir, three Brazilian soldiers were killed in Iraq today."
Bush goes pale, his jaw hanging open in stunned disbelief. He buries his face in his hands, muttering "My God...My God..."
"Mr. President", says Cheney, "we lose soldiers all the time, and it's terrible. But I've never seen you so upset. What's the matter?"
Bush looks up and says...."How many is a Brazilian?"
thanks to my personal potter/publicist for the joke!
August 24, 2006
August 21, 2006
Sisters of Mercy
Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone.
They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can't go on.
And they brought me their comfort and later they brought me this song.
Oh I hope you run into them, you who've been travelling so long.
Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control.
It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.
Well I've been where you're hanging, I think I can see how you're pinned:
When you're not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you've sinned.
Well they lay down beside me, I made my confession to them.
They touched both my eyes and I touched the dew on their hem.
If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn
they will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.
When I left they were sleeping, I hope you run into them soon.
Don't turn on the lights, you can read their address by the moon.
And you won't make me jealous if I hear that they sweetened your night:
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right,
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right.
LC
They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can't go on.
And they brought me their comfort and later they brought me this song.
Oh I hope you run into them, you who've been travelling so long.
Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control.
It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.
Well I've been where you're hanging, I think I can see how you're pinned:
When you're not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you've sinned.
Well they lay down beside me, I made my confession to them.
They touched both my eyes and I touched the dew on their hem.
If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn
they will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.
When I left they were sleeping, I hope you run into them soon.
Don't turn on the lights, you can read their address by the moon.
And you won't make me jealous if I hear that they sweetened your night:
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right,
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right.
LC
August 2, 2006
July 28, 2006
most of my time in LA was working, and those images I can not show yet (I'll post a production journal one day, on the other blog, when we are cleared to share such things), but yes, my actual personage, in the hotel where we shot photos monday, the photographer playing around. I'll get the pictures I took of the PCH on my way to Malibu, on my morning off, on here sooner or later.
PS say goodbye to the pot-smoking lady hair, though I've grown use to it, I'm told it brings out my eyes. I'm definitely ready to be free of getting the roots done. I'm so not a beauty shop kind of girl... I'll be back in black, as they say, soon.
in LALAland
when waiting patiently on set for things to progress, I had a little tyraid about never actually getting any FORTUNES in my cookies -- really they were philosophy cookies -- "the wise man knows...", and I had already openned two. SO, Joey opens his to find this -- the perfect "fortune"
July 12, 2006
Nic says "OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
She has to "sleep" in this machine with anti-embolish booties shooting air in turn. It felt like sleeping next to the Darth Vader. The machine slowly worked her post-operative hip, and made her CRY. Some help came Vicoden and Valium and lots of movies boys tend to hate. A daily shot in the STOMACH (to a women who use to faint at the sight of them in movies -- have to uncheck the -- no chance of heroine addiction -- off the list), followed by two hours lying on her stomach to stretch out the hip flexors, and two sessions of PT a day -- which all also made her CRY. You like the white granny tights? They're anti-embolish too -- sufficed to say -- we did everything necessary to battle the evil embolism possibilty. Crutches for a long time... my poor dizzy funky gimpy sweetie. She now has an unhealthy attachment to a tinker bell blanket...though she has stopped chewing her nails, I fear she may start sucking her thumb.
I read her journal when she could not stop me, to find out what boys she kissed in Europe.
I'm nice, but I'm cunning.
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