Archive for June, 2009

June 30, 2009

by Emma

Eccentricity Revolution for
Wild Women Manifesto:

1. We will crash through the doors
of our cages & fly free!

2. We will never again not wear
something because it’s “too much.”

3. We will never again be quiet
when we want to be loud,
loud when we want to be quiet.

4. We will DANCE!

5. We will SING!
& speak truth-in-love
even if it makes us nervous.

6. We will love our bodies!
(They are the conduits for our unique lives.)
We will never again judge
with numbers!

7. We will write & paint &
sculpt & make things
like there is no tomorrow!
(Because there may not be one.)

8. We will cease to numb,
repress,
hide,
or apologize
for our Unique Selves.

9. We will always be
aware that we
Walk in the Sky.
(Thank you, Ravi Singh.)

10. We will affirm the life-giving &
loving energy of the Universe;
We will not participate in
the Culture of Fear & Violence.

11. We will consider the sacred currency
of our life energy as the precious
commodity it is, & only choose
to spend it in line with our own
personal values & priorities.

12. We will be All the Color
& Warmth of the Sun
for Ourselves & Each Other.

13. We will be the
Sound of Laughter.

14. We will be Soft & Persistent
as Rain, making Grand Canyons
of Creative Expression with
our Patience & Fortitude.

June 30, 2009

by Emma

Always check your inner state

with the lord of your heart.

Copper does not know it’s copper,
until it’s changing into gold.

Your loving does not know its majesty,
until it knows its helplessness.
– Rumi

June 30, 2009

by Emma

So you alone are blessed, you free-thinking man,
In a world where life sprouts in everything?
You seize the liberty to dispose of the forces you hold,
But in all your plans a sense of the universe is lacking.

Honor in each creature the spirit which moves it:
Each flower is a soul moved by Nature’s face;
In each metal resides some of love’s mystery;
“All things feel!” And all you are is powerful.

Beware, even the blind walls may spy on you:
Even matter is vested with the power of voice…
Do not make it serve an impious purpose.

Often in the most obscure beings resides yet the hidden God;
And like the infant’s eye covered by its lid,
The pure spirit forces its kernel though the husk of stones.

–Gérard de Nerval, Vers dorés (1845) in Œuvres complètes, vol. 1, p. 739 (J. Guillaume & C. Pichois eds. 1989)(S.H. transl.)

June 29, 2009

Song of Encouragement

by Emma

Within my bowl there lies
Shining dizziness,
Bubbling drunkenness.

There are great whirlwinds
Standing upside down above us.
They lie within my bowl.

A great bear heart,
A great eagle heart,
A great hawk heart,
A great twisting wind-
All these have gathered here
And lie within my bowl.

Now you will drink it.

-Papago!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

June 29, 2009

by Emma

“Things aren’t all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has every entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life”

June 28, 2009

our party

by Emma

You are invited to discover your limitlessness.

June 28, 2009

by Emma

“Works of art are of an infinite solitude. Only Love can touch and hold them and be fair to them.”

June 27, 2009

Ulalume

by Emma

Edgar Allan Poe
Jeff’s last recording just so soon before..

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere –
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year:
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir –
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through and alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul –
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
These were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll –
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
In the ultimate climes of the pole –
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere –
Our memories were treacherous and sere, –
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!) –
We noted not the dim lake of Auber
(Though once we had journeyed down here) –
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent
And star-dials pointed to morn –
As the star-dials hinted of morn –
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn –
Astarte’s bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said: “She is warmer than Dian;
She rolls through an ether of sighs –
She revels in a region of sighs:
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion
To point us the path to the skies –
To the Lethean peace of the skies –
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes –
Come up through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes.”

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said: “Sadly this star I mistrust –
Her pallor I strangely mistrust:
Ah, hasten! -ah, let us not linger!
Ah, fly! -let us fly! -for we must.”
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
Wings until they trailed in the dust –
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust –
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied: “This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybilic splendour is beaming
With Hope and in Beauty tonight! –
See! -it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright –
We safely may trust to a gleaming,
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night.”

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom –
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb –
By the door of a legended tomb;
And I said: “What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?”
She replied: “Ulalume -Ulalume –
‘Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!”

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere –
As the leaves that were withering and sere;
And I cried: “It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed -I journeyed down here! –
That I brought a dread burden down here –
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon hath tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber –
This misty mid region of Weir –
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.”

June 26, 2009

I love this i love you

by Emma

the possibility that if I stopped clapping
my hands in the void
I would notice that I can’t hold on to things
and
the possibility that if I stopped using my voice
I’d notice songs that, all around me, sing
looms in weather,
lives buried in my days,
with all my songd and rhythms going like
the darkness surrounding a flame.

It’s what I don’t say with my mouth.
It’s my mouth open
to breathe in.
It’s open windows.

Still, I will go on and on describing the shape
around the thing I want to but can not name,
in song
and, though my long life feels busy
and full of usefullness and drive,
I will sleep through every single dawn
and those I see I will not really understand.

I will sing through every single song
about the spaces left when we stop singing

and I will sing this
with longing.

June 26, 2009

by Emma
June 25, 2009

by Emma


June 24, 2009

Beautiful Naked SkinnyLove Kidds

by Emma

Ryan McGinley takes photos http://www.ryanmcginley.com/




June 24, 2009

alison wonderland

by Emma



a tim burton Alice movie in the making. w jonny depp as mad hatter and anne hathaway i think and a polish alice..

June 24, 2009

by Emma

June 24, 2009

by Emma

align:astroblemes: professionalwidow: (via someone once told me)

June 24, 2009

by Emma

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous

the gods wait to delight in you

~Bukowski

June 23, 2009

open up the door

by Emma






June 21, 2009

Dreaming of Eagles

by Emma

And this is why:

“Eagle represents a state of grace that is reached through inner work, understanding and passing the initiation tests that result from reclaiming our personal power. Eagle Medicine is the Power of the Great Spirit. It is the spirit of tenacity. It is the gift of clear vision with which one can truly see the things one sees. It is the patience to wait for the appropriate moment. It is to live in balance with heaven and earth. Eagle reminds us of our connection with the Great Spirit. It tells us that the universe is giving us the opportunity to fly above our life’s worldly levels, or above the shadow of past realities. Eagle teaches us to look above in order to touch Grandfather Sun with our heart, to love the Shadow as much as the Light. Eagle asks us to grant ourselves permission to be free in order to reach the joy that our heart desires.”
June 21, 2009

by Emma

A Song of the Rolling Earth

by Walt Whitman
(1819-1892)


1
A song of the rolling earth, and of words according,
Were you thinking that those were the words, those upright lines?
those curves, angles, dots?
No, those are not the words, the substantial words are in the ground
and sea,
They are in the air, they are in you.

Were you thinking that those were the words, those delicious sounds
out of your friends’ mouths?
No, the real words are more delicious than they.

Human bodies are words, myriads of words,
(In the best poems re-appears the body, man’s or woman’s,
well-shaped, natural, gay,
Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or the need of shame.)

Air, soil, water, fire–those are words,
I myself am a word with them–my qualities interpenetrate with
theirs–my name is nothing to them,
Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would
air, soil, water, fire, know of my name?

A healthy presence, a friendly or commanding gesture, are words,
sayings, meanings,
The charms that go with the mere looks of some men and women,
are sayings and meanings also.

The workmanship of souls is by those inaudible words of the earth,
The masters know the earth’s words and use them more than audible words.

Amelioration is one of the earth’s words,
The earth neither lags nor hastens,
It has all attributes, growths, effects, latent in itself from the jump,
It is not half beautiful only, defects and excrescences show just as
much as perfections show.

The earth does not withhold, it is generous enough,
The truths of the earth continually wait, they are not so conceal’d either,
They are calm, subtle, untransmissible by print,
They are imbued through all things conveying themselves willingly,
Conveying a sentiment and invitation, I utter and utter,
I speak not, yet if you hear me not of what avail am I to you?
To bear, to better, lacking these of what avail am I?

(Accouche! accouchez!
Will you rot your own fruit in yourself there?
Will you squat and stifle there?)

The earth does not argue,
Is not pathetic, has no arrangements,
Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise,
Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures,
Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out,
Of all the powers, objects, states, it notifies, shuts none out.

The earth does not exhibit itself nor refuse to exhibit itself,
possesses still underneath,
Underneath the ostensible sounds, the august chorus of heroes, the
wail of slaves,
Persuasions of lovers, curses, gasps of the dying, laughter of young
people, accents of bargainers,
Underneath these possessing words that never fall.

To her children the words of the eloquent dumb great mother never fail,
The true words do not fail, for motion does not fail and reflection
does not fall,
Also the day and night do not fall, and the voyage we pursue does not fall.

Of the interminable sisters,
Of the ceaseless cotillons of sisters,
Of the centripetal and centrifugal sisters, the elder and younger sisters,
The beautiful sister we know dances on with the rest.

With her ample back towards every beholder,
With the fascinations of youth and the equal fascinations of age,
Sits she whom I too love like the rest, sits undisturb’d,
Holding up in her hand what has the character of a mirror, while her
eyes glance back from it,
Glance as she sits, inviting none, denying none,
Holding a mirror day and night tirelessly before her own face.

Seen at hand or seen at a distance,
Duly the twenty-four appear in public every day,
Duly approach and pass with their companions or a companion,
Looking from no countenances of their own, but from the countenances
of those who are with them,
From the countenances of children or women or the manly countenance,
From the open countenances of animals or from inanimate things,
From the landscape or waters or from the exquisite apparition of the sky,
From our countenances, mine and yours, faithfully returning them,
Every day in public appearing without fall, but never twice with the
same companions.

Embracing man, embracing all, proceed the three hundred and
sixty-five resistlessly round the sun;
Embracing all, soothing, supporting, follow close three hundred and
sixty-five offsets of the first, sure and necessary as they.

Tumbling on steadily, nothing dreading,
Sunshine, storm, cold, heat, forever withstanding, passing, carrying,
The soul’s realization and determination still inheriting,
The fluid vacuum around and ahead still entering and dividing,
No balk retarding, no anchor anchoring, on no rock striking,
Swift, glad, content, unbereav’d, nothing losing,
Of all able and ready at any time to give strict account,
The divine ship sails the divine sea.

2
Whoever you are! motion and reflection are especially for you,
The divine ship sails the divine sea for you.

Whoever you are! you are he or she for whom the earth is solid and liquid,
You are he or she for whom the sun and moon hang in the sky,
For none more than you are the present and the past,
For none more than you is immortality.

Each man to himself and each woman to herself, is the word of the
past and present, and the true word of immortality;
No one can acquire for another–not one,
Not one can grow for another–not one.

The song is to the singer, and comes back most to him,
The teaching is to the teacher, and comes back most to him,
The murder is to the murderer, and comes back most to him,
The theft is to the thief, and comes back most to him,
The love is to the lover, and comes back most to him,
The gift is to the giver, and comes back most to him–it cannot fail,
The oration is to the orator, the acting is to the actor and actress
not to the audience,
And no man understands any greatness or goodness but his own, or
the indication of his own.

3
I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him or her who shall
be complete,
The earth remains jagged and broken only to him or her who remains
jagged and broken.

I swear there is no greatness or power that does not emulate those
of the earth,
There can be no theory of any account unless it corroborate the
theory of the earth,
No politics, song, religion, behavior, or what not, is of account,
unless it compare with the amplitude of the earth,
Unless it face the exactness, vitality, impartiality, rectitude of
the earth.

I swear I begin to see love with sweeter spasms than that which
responds love,
It is that which contains itself, which never invites and never refuses.

I swear I begin to see little or nothing in audible words,
All merges toward the presentation of the unspoken meanings of the earth,
Toward him who sings the songs of the body and of the truths of the earth,
Toward him who makes the dictionaries of words that print cannot touch.

I swear I see what is better than to tell the best,
It is always to leave the best untold.

When I undertake to tell the best I find I cannot,
My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots,
My breath will not be obedient to its organs,
I become a dumb man.

The best of the earth cannot be told anyhow, all or any is best,
It is not what you anticipated, it is cheaper, easier, nearer,
Things are not dismiss’d from the places they held before,
The earth is just as positive and direct as it was before,
Facts, religions, improvements, politics, trades, are as real as before,
But the soul is also real, it too is positive and direct,
No reasoning, no proof has establish’d it,
Undeniable growth has establish’d it.

4
These to echo the tones of souls and the phrases of souls,
(If they did not echo the phrases of souls what were they then?
If they had not reference to you in especial what were they then?)

I swear I will never henceforth have to do with the faith that tells
the best,
I will have to do only with that faith that leaves the best untold.

Say on, sayers! sing on, singers!
Delve! mould! pile the words of the earth!
Work on, age after age, nothing is to be lost,
It may have to wait long, but it will certainly come in use,
When the materials are all prepared and ready, the architects shall appear.

I swear to you the architects shall appear without fall,
I swear to you they will understand you and justify you,
The greatest among them shall be he who best knows you, and encloses
all and is faithful to all,
He and the rest shall not forget you, they shall perceive that you
are not an iota less than they,
You shall be fully glorified in them.

June 20, 2009

Jellyfish Crop Circle!!!

by Emma

June 20, 2009

I know my Question

by Emma

yes. and i am asking it.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

June 19, 2009

by Emma

http://vimeo.com/3987450

run into the wilds and be free with me
June 19, 2009

EET!

by Emma

we will have a typewriter like this.

June 19, 2009

let’s laugh together

by Emma
June 18, 2009

xxo

by Emma

it’s not one thing or the other.
it’s how we move from one thing or the other, that’s imprtant.

June 18, 2009

by Emma



June 18, 2009

by Emma

i am walking home today and a man black skin dirty green sweats not quite homeless wild hair
he says
yu hav a good evenin
and i say you too
and he says i will i’m gunna get me howm plug ma stringz in n im gunna pound that electric babey till she screamz i wunna hear ma tunes go thru tha roof! its gunna be a good evenin you can be sure of dat. yeeaahz

and then he says
hey girl quit walking so fast turn around hunny lemme see dem eyes again, hey hunney tirn aroun show me dem yur eyes again. dey look green but i know dey change colours. aw dey green but thats right they trrn purple. show me dem purple eyes, girl.

and then i found a penny

June 18, 2009

by Emma

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.

June 18, 2009

by Emma

June 17, 2009

by Emma

Waking at 3 a.m.
Even in the cave of the night when you
wake and are free and lonely,
neglected by others, discarded, loved only
by what doesn’t matter–even in that
big room no one can see,
you push with your eyes till forever
comes in its twisted figure eight
and lies down in your head.

You think water in the river;
you think slower than the tide in
the grain of the wood; you become
a secret storehouse that saves the country,
so open and foolish and empty.

You look over all that the darkness
ripples across. More than has ever
been found comforts you. You open your
eyes in a vault that unlocks as fast
and as far as your thought can run.
A great snug wall goes around everything,
has always been there, will always
remain. It is a good world to be
lost in. It comforts you. It is
all right. And you sleep.

William Stafford

June 16, 2009

Feminine

by Emma

http://www.antonyandthejohnsons.com/feminine.html

reminds me of banana.
and yumi?
xxxo

you are my endless

June 16, 2009

Long life honey in the heart

by Emma

Mayan tradition does not teach that the Gods want people to be sinless or perfect, but they believe that the Gods love beauty,eloquence,fine clothes, great music, fine poems, bravery, high animal spirits and gratitude. These human qualities taste like honey to the Gods and the Gods are like bears who have come into the village whenever they smell that honey. The mayan’s main and ancient job is to be beautiful and grateful.

From these metaphors of honey, of Gods crazy about smoke and dancing we get a scent of the “original flowering of the earth,” that is the fantastic fragrance that can come into human life when despite madness and greediness old women and old men help the young ones to embody beauty and eloquence…
It is good for each person to be in debt economically and spiritually to every other person in the village, it is wise to give paybacks to the spirits and to mother Earth constantly, every ten minutes, it’s good to weep generously when a human being dies so that he or she can make it all the way across to the other side.
It’s enlivening to understand that the Gods are charmed by us human beings because we have thumbs-which spirits do not- and so can carve masks, weave cloth, invent musical instruments, play them, whittle sticks and make paintings.
It is good to know that what is needed most in the world, more even than food or warmth- is eloquence.
~foreword to Martin Prechtel’s Secret if the Talking Jaguar by Robert Bly
June 16, 2009

by Emma

Creativity= the encounter of the intensively conscious human being with his or her world.

(yes- this is us)
June 16, 2009

by Emma

(via typewriterblues)

June 16, 2009

love lick

by Emma
June 16, 2009

by Emma



June 15, 2009

just like this today i miss you

by Emma


with cashew claws and magic waiting aching

June 12, 2009

kitten, what was our movie going to be about again?

by Emma
June 12, 2009

by Emma

June 12, 2009

our dreams and deja vus… (yes, we already knew..)

by Emma

when your mind and body are exhausted from the day, they lose consciousness in order to rest and repair themselves. conscious dreaming has the potential to occur when your mind and body do not need to become unconscious at night.
conscious dreaming cannot occur if you think too much. thinking, which includes reading and talking, moves energy to the back of the brain. your upper back, neck and shoulder and jaw get really tight.
conscious dreaming involves the front part of the brain, your 3rd eye. when your mind stays calm during the day, you can recapitulate, lie down, and feel the energy move naturally to the front of your brain. you can watch yourself fall asleep while maintaining your consciousness. your light body becomes aware of itself. you will feel more alive here than you’ve ever felt in your waking life.

Also,
when you sigh, it is your physical body releasing its hold your light body. (as above, this is when your energy stuck in back part of brain in thinking doing etc) (my note: back of brain = reptilian brain, controls fear responses, fight and flight..) Sighing is “sah”-ing. In the Egyptian Pyramid Texts, the word “sah” is used to actualize hidden powers.

Our physical bodies and light bodies are supposed to work together as partners, but they have been alienated from each other. the only time they still have any success in communicating with each other is in our dreams. So often we wake up, remembering only bits and pieces, but having this feeling in our bones that we’re missing the best parts of our dreams and our lives. The light body and the physical body need to merge, to meld into one solid unit – never splintered, never differentiated, never apart. Then your dreams become conscious.
And when you’re awake, you’re able to see beyond the veil that separates the worlds.
That is why it is crucial to love both your physical body and your light body. It is imperative that you care for both. It is tantamount that you understand and embrace both.
We are living in a physical world. So intuiting an energetic Truth is only half the battle. Making that Truth live in the physical world is its fulfillment.
The presence of your light body’s awareness within your daily consciousness enables you to be aware of your own existence as you create it. A deja vu is one result of this merging.

– from a book by a mr. matt guest

June 11, 2009

by Emma

rumi says,

The human shape is a ghost of
distractions and pain.
Sometimes pure light, sometimes cruel.
Trying wildly to open
this image held tightly inside.

June 11, 2009

by Emma

“For thousands of years we have gathered in circle – around fire, around bodies, around altars – because we can’t do this alone.”

June 10, 2009

THE INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL OF THIRTEEN INDIGENOUS GRANDMOTHERS

by Emma



www.grandmotherscouncil.com

June 10, 2009

by Emma

To embody the spirit of this world such that others may experience it as well is what the art of blessing is all about.”

David Spangler

June 9, 2009

by Emma

June 9, 2009

by Emma


this one is what happens where i hear your voice in the seashell

June 8, 2009

by Emma

June 7, 2009

The Template Org

by Emma

www.thetemplateorg.com

June 7, 2009

Grace is what matters

by Emma

Fragile and beautiful and from the same place.

June 6, 2009

Four Elements

by Emma

Within your nature
is every element,
so listen to
some sage advice:

You are demon
and wild beast
and angel
and human—

Whatever you cultivate,
that you will be.

—Baba Afdal Kashani