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a tile. Irene made this and gifted me....a kind of long time ago. Sunny Ray. I'd been looking at it, every day for some time. I can't have a kiln here. or, maybe i could. but i'm not ready for that. But i look. and hold it.
i want to make some very small figures. i want them to "wear" cloth. tiny scraps thereof. Small. as small as i can. That diorama thing.
on my knee in Early morning SUN. can you see? the figure there?
i am calling it the Hill Walker.
an amorphous Being
and as Liz suggested....i will include Hazel's email into the comments of yesterday
"how the first and last photos speak of and to each other ~feather like branch at the top with the bird (raven?) and how the tree rings and color hold the carnelian and shell's spiral"
a perfect example of how WE ALL are important to EachOther, matter. Matter, so very much.
what to do? So, i ask Tree Woman. HELP!
she says: go look in the storage tubs at B. OK.
i don't even know what's there anymore. the tubs are far up the hill from where i water. I don't go there. But i did. because she said so and lo and behold. There, amongst many other things, are the bead tins. I'd thought Alyssia had taken them and as i looked, i remembered the conversation. That they would stay here. In case. In case i needed them. So...we can look now, at Stuff that's in there. Which also brings the question of ......What about Fire? but i'll think about that later. Today, i began looking.
and beyond all hope, the
Carnelian
the louder the world, it's the small things that are speaking, calling my attention for long long periods of time. How, illuminated by the flashlight last night...when i got up to Listen....how these dried seed pods became so vibrant....like exotic blooms.
tonight will be the first night of this Circle that i close the door.
Always, it's been this way. and then, more so with the Goats....in N Mex and especially, now, here. Tay comes in but all others remain Out There. The first nights are hard...i wake often, listening, listening. i get up, listen. Sometimes i wrap self and go Out and listen. There have been those nights...since here, but in December, where there was buck Goat commotion, loose Goat commotion but otherwise....i listen to nothing. a still night and i guess my dreams. and i guess my uhhhhh, selfpart that still says.....anything can happen, grace. be vigilant. As if vigilance might prevent occurrences. i know it does not. Tay will alert me. She hears Everything. it's her job. I could just learn to leave it to her....right?
double click the pic. the Brilliance of this Earth is here in these seed pods
the bouquet...most recent from Emrie.
She is dead. Dead. She died on October 11th. Dead.
This morning i thought....Where is Joanna? and i went to Future Primitive Podcast to see that yes. She has died and today is a Memorial on the Future Primitive Face Book Page. I go there. It's the most Beauty Full memorial i have ever experienced...so many people loved her and told their story of that love in such extremely personal and specific ways, .... as befitting her, their love for her.
She was a Woman. so much ALL a Woman. In the time of the podcasts, she had softened and mellowed and croned. All that was left of her Womanness was
Wonder.
Wanting to know.
Curiosity.
Deep tender Love. Really deep. Really tender. Love.
after the memorial, i needed to Give Water and i thought....She is FREE now. Having no particular form.....i can ASK her....Joanna...come down there with me. And she did. We sat as i watered the final things of this cycle. Being free of a body, she was very quiet and whispy but as always....INTERESTED
i realized i could ask her questions, like she had always asked questions of others...i could ask her questions?....like....What do you think????? questions....in her now dead form.......her Dis~embodied Beingness She would Laugh at this. I know her laugh.....the thick loving sound of her laugh....how do dead people "think"?
Joanna. you. like so many, i have never seen, face to face. But i KNOW you and know that you will KNOW me if i ask
i ask.
please. know me. Come here. Hang out. I can be made more whole with your Joy, your Curiosity, your Wonder, your Fierceness, your so so total WOMAN~Ness Such love, to you, Joanna Harcourt~Smith....GO! and STAY! both,
GO and Stay.....you are needed in these times.
just in the last couple days i got emails from Maria in Belgium and Tina, both the most Loving Hearts possible: They cannot comment here anymore. This is so sad to me. We are all so much more when All of Us are present....and i know how it feels to want to be present and be unable to do that....i am so so sorry it's this way. I am trying to understand what to do.
Thank you for letting me know, Maria.....i miss you.
the latest podcast, On Being with Sharon Salzberg
for things to Move.....like they did, at Tassajara....Fire Monks......, there needs to be a Central Heart Beat.
Here, it's the Goats. Unplanned, Unenvisioned, they have taken their Place in our lives as that, over almost 10 years. Because.
They are the beginning and the end of days. Every Day. Year in, year out. This last pic....Onday's eye. She is now the Elder.
We do what we do because of Them and she is the Elder, the Center. OnDay. She was the first i named. there were three... of SnowBunny....two little bucks that couldn't be kept and so....Iko Iko....leave them un named...or same named but the little doeling....Onday. Dixie Cups...UTube.
