How Wolves Change Rivers ...........Wonderful!

 

 When These Wolves Were Brought Into The Park, No One Expected This To Be The Result.
Back in 1995, wolves were finally reintroduced into Yellowstone National Park, which is mainly located in Wyoming, yet also goes into Idaho and Montana. Prior to that, they weren't in the park for at least 70 years.

Upon their reintroduction, the park completely transformed. The populations of many other species increased, as did the health of the park, overall. While wolves are often considered to be harmful species, they can actually transform the world around them, as they did in Yellowstone National Park, where they greatly increased the biodiversity in this treasured ecosystem.

 http://sustainableman.org/blog/2014/02/17/how-wolves-change-rivers/

http://www.wimp.com/wolvesresult/

New Website: "Masks and Myth"

I recently created a new website for my saleable masks  which I'm proud of: 

"Mask and Myth"

 ( http://www.maskandmyth.com/)

 

For anyone seeking a handmade, one of a kind mask for any occasion I have quite an assortment.  I also enjoyed having a chance to remember very fondly my days at the Renaissance Faires, and pause to be grateful for those nomadic, mythic  days!  

Weavers................

"Weavers" (2014)

 

Stories are not abstractions from life but how we engage with it.  We make stories and those stories make us human.  We awaken into stories as we awaken into language, which is there before and after us.  The question is not so much "What do I learn from stories" as "What stories do I want to live?"   Insofar as I'm non-dual with my narratives, that question is just as much, 

"What stories want to come to life through me?"

David R. Loy, "The World is Made of Stories" 

Sometimes I become overwhelmed with the events of the world, and have to refuse to watch the news, even the worthy information that colleagues send me.  At such a crucial time in the evolution of humanity,  such a long awaited and brief window, the old and ugly stories of war, of greed, of old patriarchal tribal war gods endlessly demanding blood and supremacy, and endless consumer economies that can lead only to collapse........... and both leading to the end of hope.   No, you can't live with that.  So I stop, and walk into the garden, and remember the stories that are sacred, the myths that renew and sustain.  

  

It seems to me that we are every day planting and weaving the World Stories as tell our own stories in so many ways.  And, whether we realize it or not, we are doing so in collaboration with many others.  As  the generative  incubation of  winter quietly approaches, may we remember how important our task really is, how little time we really have:  to  plant seeds for the future that ever grow,  ever green, into  stories of the Sacred Earth and our true community with All Beings. 

"Midwives" (2014)

400,000 Strong Marching for Climate in N.Y.C.!

  

Think about it - 400,000 people marching through the canyons of New York City, one of the worlds great centers of commerce, marching for a Global Civilization to save our planet from climate devastation.  This is reality, not a novel.

These, as Paul Simon sang, are the Days of Miracles and Wonders.  Truly, a historical event.

Thanks to Joyce for this! 

http://www.democraticunderground.com/10025566043

Mabon! And The Circle Has No End

 

I want to wish the Blessings of Mabon, The Autumn Equinox, the Second Harvest Festival to all my friends.  An auspicious, a sacred day, and I remember well when I lived back East and celebrated with honey mead and fallen apples, gathered  brilliant red on the brilliant green grass.

Being a person from the dry west, I found it miraculous, amazing, this overwhelming generosity of  Gaia.  Given and given.  I remember in 1990 my friend Rose organized an event in NYC around the Equinox, and I brought a basket of apples I had found  on the ground.  I felt moved to share them, telling the audience  my sense of how sacred that was, these apples,  how important to remember. 

And at the end of the evening I was touched when those tough, sophisticated  New Yorkers took every single one. I sometimes think that was one of the best things I've ever done as a Priestess. 

This morning I woke up singing "The Circle Has No End".  It's not exactly a Mabon Song, but I wanted to share it today, as the Circle Turns.

Raising a glass of cider to all!

http://youtu.be/hPGSw1tKwGw

More travels on the Coast..........

Just to be with the Pacific Ocean, north and south.  The strange knarled trees right out of Tolkien that line the edge of the world at Casper.  I notice that I always seem to find them as entranceways to somewhere else, perhaps some strange door to the world of Faery............

When I emerged to the overlook of Jughandle Beach, I was just in time to see a wedding in progress, just in time, in fact, to snap "the kiss".

This solitary  tree, clinging so tenatiously to the edge of the cliff, is an old friend of mine.

And here is South, way south of Casper, at La Jolla down by San Diego.  I am eternally fascinated by pelicans, graceless birds on land, but when they fly they are as precise and elegant as any air show imaginable.  Might like to come back as a pelican next lifetime, living above the ocean and fishing when I'm not preening my wings.  Seems very pleasurable.

Not to mention the seals, basking in the sun when they're not barking at each other.  Swimming dogs, fascinating to watch them play with each other in the water.

And schools of brightly colored  rainbow kayaks, ignored by the bored looking pelicans.

It's been so healing to be on the ocean, to visit Mother Ocean.  Thank you and great praise, Yemaya.

One last hibiscus...........................

Venus Synchronicities.........

I'm still here in California. And strangely, I seem to be in the middle of a Syncronicity Cluster based on the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite/Venus.  I think, when this kind of thing keeps going on, one must pay attention.  

"Venus" by Lorraine Capparell 

I received a notice from artist Lorraine Capparell  about her beautiful sculpture Venus.  Oddly, I used another of her sculptures to illustrate the previous entry. 

I received a day later an order for an Aphrodite mask.  And a notice about a Circle Work workshop with Jalaja Bonheim, who wrote Aphrodite's Daughters, a wonderful book I revisited a few weeks ago when visiting my friend Joanne, who had it on her kitchen table because she is doing research with the book. (I also posted about her a month or so back)

 Then I received a notice about an Aphrodite Workshop occurring this coming weekend, sponsored by two women I know from Reclaiming - one is an acquaintance, Laurie Lovecraft (an appropriate name for a priestess of the Goddess of Love).  I'm tempted to brave the truly horrendous L.A. traffic to attend - Laurie and Tami's description of working with the heart to open the path to creativity, and to create beauty.......is  just the healing affirmation I may need.

And how terribly wounded Aphrodite is in our world.  As I write this, I reflect on how, a few days ago, I was lying on the bed in a motel room, flipping through the TV channels.  There were no less than 5 programs within that hour about young women, girlfriends,  wives  and an exotic dancer murdered by men.  A stranger from another culture would think that raping and killing young women was the national sport. 

In fact, now that I think about it, the need to destroy Aphrodite in every way is at the very heart of patriarchal culture.  Because a culture that values love, beauty, and Eros............is a culture that would not be able to make war, or guns, because it would be a culture with great reverence for life.

Here is a poem I wrote for Aphrodite in 1999:

APHRODITE IN BROOKLYN

Please allow me to take off my shoes,

this faux marble pose 

this modern, pragmatic mask.

Permit me my ruin.

Let us not consider this therapy

  or revolution

do not ask me to give you space

let us not discuss those who came before

and those who might follow.

Let us not talk of past lives.

I have fallen on hard times.

If you come to my temple

  just

let me make for you an ocean.

Half seen in the darkness

your body, a mystery

true, tangible, radiant,

lined with the rings of your life.

You are beautiful,

beautiful to be a man.

Darling, even in this era, I will not believe

that love is disposable,

that sex is safe

that lovers are trains, rolling past each other

to some certain station 

  I remember,

  I almost remember my river source

My skin forms the word anew,

  yes,

  enter me

  as if you were coming home