Happy year 2011, all. I haven't blogged here or anywhere else much lately, partly due to having a lot more distractions in my home. I remember now why I haven't had cable TV in so many years, and it isn't just simply because I didn't have the income to pay for it, it's because I can turn into a TV zombie. I'm catching up on shows and news so much, before I know it the day is half gone or it's too late at night, and especially after watching a gazillion news shows, I start to feel heavy, like I'm sedated, totally put into a mood where I don't want to move. Then as I try to sleep, I close my eyes and keep seeing flashes of faces, a residual effect from watching too much TV, I'm sure.
The other little problem I've been experiencing lately is that even though I have immediate access to the internet, now that I have a computer hooked up at home (yay!), there are times I just get online to vegitate some more. I get on Facebook and just play around, take a few quizzes, and before long hours have gone by, my eyes get tired, and then the ennui robs me of my creativity. I head back into my bedroom and want to draw, but my mind is so tired, so bored out, emptied of ideas, just bleh. I've given myself a "creative migraine" out of this -- my imagination has pooped out sludge and before long each time I sit down to draw, I just sit there, and to get my mind off it I turn the TV back on or start up the computer. I log into Mindsay or Blogger and just stare at the blank pages. It doesn't help that I no longer have the social rapport that I once had here. Whether or not I blog here, the old friends I once came here to blog back and forth with aren't all here anymore, and it seems like there's a general lack of interest in blogging by others. I've noticed that in just the last two years, activity on blogs seems to have dwindled. People like the instant gratification of Twitter or Facebook -- and even I have fallen for it, too.
Writing a blog is, well, about writing. Journal writing, to be exact. I keep several handwritten journals at home. Blogging is public journal writing, so I tend to put more thought and energy into what I want to say for everyone to see. Sometimes I get online to just react immediately, and even though I don't always write what is the most thoughtful thing to say (and possibly what I wouldn't naturally say in person), I will examine and re-examine what I've written. In any case, the point I'm trying to make is that blogging, to me, is basically essay-like and can be a kind of chore. I have to take more time to write a blog. Checking Facebook is a breeze, but ultimately I don't get as much joy out of it as I do blogging. Because Facebook is like candy; it doesn't feed my creativity like the good ole ritual of writing does.
I don't often make new year's resolutions, because such promises we make at the turn of a year don't get kept, but this year I really want to channel my energy into writing more. Not just blogging. Not just getting online to play with Facebook applications. Not just to post hundreds of photographs. I need to get back into the writing, really give myself assignments, really kick out the words I've got collected in the back of my mind, and stop myself from sinking into apathy.
Writing to me is like drawing... I have a lot of stories to show and tell, writing is just another way to draw things out of my imagination. I'll always keep a general blog out of my general need for self expression, but I want to stretch out and make writing itself a goal this year. There are several areas/subjects I want to focus on: write my Witchcraft autobiography, write an on-going online poetry journal, write and revise my ficitional vignettes (I've got notebooks full of them that I could make into short stories), and write a book on Tarot and about my experiences as a reader (amongst many other things that aren't coming to mind right at this moment). Like the sketchbook goal I made last year (I filled up four sketchbooks-full of drawings), this year I'm just going to let my words fly via keyboard and pen. The goal isn't about getting my writing published, it's just about writing, just getting the words out, and not necessarily filling up several notebooks or blogs full of my words. I just want to, and owe it to myself, to get back into writing so I can help myself break the habit of just sitting here and not accomplishing anything.
I want to write just as much as I draw. Let the words flow...
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
My first Christmas without Mom
I'm not used to the social pressures of Christmas -- usually I just spend a quiet Winter Solstice at home, maybe volunteer to help out friends with their gift giving/buying, and just order take out for dinner, but this year is the first Christmas without my mother and my aunt... they celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ at this time of year. After someone dies in your family, the holidays become more important and more emotional. I look forward to spending time with my relatives, yet I am stressed that giving gifts isn't enough to really show them I care. Over the last twenty years I spent most of my energy exerting my independence and time away from them, all the while trying to get them to understand why I'm different, expecting them to accept and tolerate what makes me different from them, and then just drifting apart from them because, despite our blood ties, how could they ever accept me? I owe them much more than a trinket or stocking stuffer or whatever -- they are my blood, my life, our connections go deep -- so this holiday season all I really feel like doing is being a shoulder to lean on or asking for one to lean on myself. I haven't always been the perfect daughter, or niece, or cousin. I'm awkward.
I don't ever really fully "fit in" with the crowds of like minds I hang with, too. I forget birthdays, don't always have the money to spend on gifts, and most of the time I'm too self absorbed to remember to wish anyone else anything! And when I do remember it's never in the timely fashion it should be. During the holidays I often find myself apologising to people! I liken this to the way I often have a hard time keeping house -- I just kinda spaz out on the normal social rituals other people practice and I just let too much go til it gets so gone it's nearly impossible to salvage. Ms. Suzy Homemaker I'm not -- and etiquette? What's that? I live in a world where I follow my own flow and, even though I really do care about my friends and family, I'm so used to being alone I lack the "nice" behavior everyone else is clued in on. What stresses me out the most sometimes is when I am invited to a holiday party or family get-together and everyone is expected to "do something" and yet I'm never sure what I'm in for. The last two times I felt so completely inept socially was during a friend's wedding and, most recently, a friend's birthday -- both times I forgot to wrap a gift or present it properly and everyone but me is passing the gifts to the friend-in-honor, taking photos, and handing out gift cards -- I just sit in the sidelines, the only one not following protocol. You would think that it's due to a lack of social training in my family upbringing, but this is not so. You'll see what I mean in a minute...
Christmas with my mother always meant she'd bake a cake and decorate it up for Jesus. We'd sing the "Happy Birthday" song to Jesus and the rest of the night consisted of singing carols or watching films like "The Greatest Story Ever Told", "Spartacus" or "The Ten Comandments". There was always an exchanage of gifts between family members, we'd attend Church, volunteer at homeless shelters or half-way houses, and then Christmas night was spent with friends and another exchange of gifts. It was a time to remember everyone else, never a time to indulge too much in what you wanted. There were Christmases that we went without toys, not because my Mom couldn't afford them, but because we were too busy making sure other people were getting taken care of. My mother was very social, too -- in the house and in church and at work -- busy all hours of the day baking and cooking, keeping and collecting gift cards, always making sure the right people got thanked and were told "I love you" and above all we had to think of God. "The most important things to remember to tell other people is 'I love you' and 'thank you,'" She instructed me from age one, "because you may be the one person in their lives that will ever tell them that." She would also make sure we remembered to wish Jesus a Happy Birthday because He was the reason for the season. It wasn't just a simple well-wishing, it was something very serious. Christmas was fun but mostly, for our little single parent family, it was all about the Jesus. She spent most of my life separated from her family and, when we were reunited with her brothers and sisters after my Aunt Sandy died from breast cancer in 1986, a whole new monthly ritual of birthdays and anniversaries began. The most important of these was Christmas.
Christmases were always spent at my Aunt Madge and Uncle Orley's house. This meant gift giving and cooking became more complicated! There were more people to remember to give gifts to and cook for. I wasn't always prepared to know what exactly to get my relatives for Christmas and oftentimes I was surprised to get a gift I really wanted from an aunt or uncle! My mother made sure she taught me to remember to thank God, but my aunts and uncles and cousins made sure to teach me to remember to appreciate each other. Christmas with my extended family could be just as stressful as the holidays I spent with Mom at church. Gift giving and holiday cooking was like religion. If you didn't do it right or often enough it meant you didn't care, so you had to get going with the ritual to make sure everyone knew they were loved and appreciated. Jesus' birthday was like celebrating everyone else's birthday, too. As an adult looking back on this, I liken it to recognizing God in each other. You saw a desire or need in someone you love and you fill it, pass it on, keep the love flowing... It was hard work to keep up with it! My Aunt Madge was the very matriarch of holiday protocol. While my mother was busy with the religious duties of taking us to church, my aunt was making and keeping a list all year long, both of them always prepared to make sure the kids and everyone else was remembered. Whenever I got gifts for my mom or aunt, I never felt like what I gave them was good enough -- they worked SO HARD to make sure everyone else was having a good time that my efforts to make sure they had a good time seemed so small.
It wasn't like they were hugely strict, it was because they were so powerful in my mind, how could I ever carry on what they did? Even at age 39 I feel like a child. I never was all that interested in the Christian religion like my mother was. I had other ideas and experiences. I don't like to cook or bake. I just wanted to be left alone. I experienced an epic fail one Thanksgiving day in the year 1990 -- it was my turn to cook the turkey and prepare a meal for my mother and brother and I -- but, not being all that talented in the cooking department, I forgot to thaw the turkey! So, no turkey dinner! And Mom was so unhappy she cried and cried and screamed and screamed at me for being so thoughtless. It was not long after that I lost interest in participating in family holiday celebrations altogether. Not because I didn't love my family, it was because I just didn't feel like my contributions would be good enough and that I would no longer be accepted because, after a lifetime of being forced to follow along with Christianity, I found a religion that perfectly fit in with who I am and didn't expect me to be anything I wasn't. I turned my back on my mother's religion, NOT on my mother, but rejecting something that was very important to her, something she believed in with her whole heart and soul, was like me turning my back on her forever. I always felt I failed her, but I would never lie to her. I always made sure to share with her who I am. I wanted to make sure she knew that what she taught me made me the woman I am today and that she was a good mother. But religion would be the one thing that kept us separate.
No matter the tolerance I maintain, I still find it difficult to forgive Christians for convincing my mother that I was going to Hell. The Christian religion separated us. After telling her I was a Witch, there was nothing I could do to make it up to her. She hit a brick wall whenever I shared with her what I believed and why I believed what I believed. For a couple Christmases after "coming out of the broom closet" to my Mom, the ritual of Christmas itself became more stressful. Every Christmas I found myself explaining and feeling obligated to educate, enlighten, and take all the fun out of celebrating the holidays with Christians. I eventually found it far less stressful to spend more time with other pagans and witches. Eventually it was harder to even visit with my mother altogether. It wasn't that I was rejecting her, in fact I had complete respect and perfect love for her and NEVER expected her to believe what I believed. I accepted her for who she was, my mother, and that acceptance went beyond religion. Simple matters of religious rituals aren't that imporant to the God(s), the Divine doesn't care what we call Them, what matters most is that we be excellent to each other!
Every Christmas I am reminded of the "silent night" carol -- the whole peace on earth theme -- and what that really means for us all, regardless of our individual religious affiliations. If we spend too much time focusing on "being right" we forget how to treat each other right. I hate having religious debates, especially when no one can seem to reach a common ground. The key to having world peace is to understand and tolerate our differences and still practice what we believe is right. With that said, I don't feel now that I failed my mother, but I still feel guilty every Christmas because now, after she's dead, I can't get all the holidays I missed with her back. Not just the holidays, but the days and nights we could've been better friends... if only her religion had permitted her to let go of that horrible belief that everyone is going to suffer eternal damnation if they aren't "saved" by letting Jesus into their heart. The last few years I've spent with my mother I did everything I could to please her and make her feel comfortable. This meant having to bite my lip and "wish Jesus a happy birthday" like we used to when I was a child. She could share with me what she believed, but I dared not share what I believed or practiced (even though she would repeatedly tell me she wanted to know more about me). Whenever I did share, she would cut me off, my brother would tell me to shut-up, and so for the last five Christmases I've had to constantly police myself and make sure all the Christians around me were respected. I "turned the other cheek" more times than perhaps they ever have. And every Christmas I would get depressed.
On the other hand, for the last two Winter Solstices I've had a loyal group of friends to celebrate with. While Christmases remained blue ones for me, Yule has become this explosion of social happiness -- the good kind of stress -- ! But now that my mother has died, my holiday stress isn't over... I'm hoping that this Christmas will be an emotional uplifting of the restrictions I felt I had to comply to with my mother. And yet... I feel the burden of her loss, made all the more intense because my aunt passed away this year, too. Will my little gifts wrapped with care be enough to soothe the hearts of my relatives? Gathering with them for Thanksgiving was a nice welcome after so many years being apart. I think this Christmas will be the same, but... there is still a nagging hurt in my heart.
I'm rediscovering that my family loves me (it's something I should've never forgotten). That makes this season more special than ever before. The emotional separation I had with my mother is gone, but now dealing with the physical separation is made easier reconnecting with the rest of the family. Yet I can't help still feeling like an insensitive dork when it comes to not contributing food I hand-cooked and giving only small, inexpensive gifts (some of them I hand made) -- yet do I really have to "go all out" to show I care? Would my Aunt Madge approve of the way I saved money or spent money or whatever? I remember one thing she told me after my Uncle Orley died when I expressed to her how sorry I was for not being around enough to help out. She said, "You're here now, that's what counts." Maybe that is the answer I've been asking for: just "being there" is the gift my family needs.
No matter what the holiday or differences in religion or lifestyle, WE are the GIFTS our family really needs.
I smile after writing that line. Thank you, Madge. Thank you, Mom. I'm here now.
I don't ever really fully "fit in" with the crowds of like minds I hang with, too. I forget birthdays, don't always have the money to spend on gifts, and most of the time I'm too self absorbed to remember to wish anyone else anything! And when I do remember it's never in the timely fashion it should be. During the holidays I often find myself apologising to people! I liken this to the way I often have a hard time keeping house -- I just kinda spaz out on the normal social rituals other people practice and I just let too much go til it gets so gone it's nearly impossible to salvage. Ms. Suzy Homemaker I'm not -- and etiquette? What's that? I live in a world where I follow my own flow and, even though I really do care about my friends and family, I'm so used to being alone I lack the "nice" behavior everyone else is clued in on. What stresses me out the most sometimes is when I am invited to a holiday party or family get-together and everyone is expected to "do something" and yet I'm never sure what I'm in for. The last two times I felt so completely inept socially was during a friend's wedding and, most recently, a friend's birthday -- both times I forgot to wrap a gift or present it properly and everyone but me is passing the gifts to the friend-in-honor, taking photos, and handing out gift cards -- I just sit in the sidelines, the only one not following protocol. You would think that it's due to a lack of social training in my family upbringing, but this is not so. You'll see what I mean in a minute...
Christmas with my mother always meant she'd bake a cake and decorate it up for Jesus. We'd sing the "Happy Birthday" song to Jesus and the rest of the night consisted of singing carols or watching films like "The Greatest Story Ever Told", "Spartacus" or "The Ten Comandments". There was always an exchanage of gifts between family members, we'd attend Church, volunteer at homeless shelters or half-way houses, and then Christmas night was spent with friends and another exchange of gifts. It was a time to remember everyone else, never a time to indulge too much in what you wanted. There were Christmases that we went without toys, not because my Mom couldn't afford them, but because we were too busy making sure other people were getting taken care of. My mother was very social, too -- in the house and in church and at work -- busy all hours of the day baking and cooking, keeping and collecting gift cards, always making sure the right people got thanked and were told "I love you" and above all we had to think of God. "The most important things to remember to tell other people is 'I love you' and 'thank you,'" She instructed me from age one, "because you may be the one person in their lives that will ever tell them that." She would also make sure we remembered to wish Jesus a Happy Birthday because He was the reason for the season. It wasn't just a simple well-wishing, it was something very serious. Christmas was fun but mostly, for our little single parent family, it was all about the Jesus. She spent most of my life separated from her family and, when we were reunited with her brothers and sisters after my Aunt Sandy died from breast cancer in 1986, a whole new monthly ritual of birthdays and anniversaries began. The most important of these was Christmas.
Christmases were always spent at my Aunt Madge and Uncle Orley's house. This meant gift giving and cooking became more complicated! There were more people to remember to give gifts to and cook for. I wasn't always prepared to know what exactly to get my relatives for Christmas and oftentimes I was surprised to get a gift I really wanted from an aunt or uncle! My mother made sure she taught me to remember to thank God, but my aunts and uncles and cousins made sure to teach me to remember to appreciate each other. Christmas with my extended family could be just as stressful as the holidays I spent with Mom at church. Gift giving and holiday cooking was like religion. If you didn't do it right or often enough it meant you didn't care, so you had to get going with the ritual to make sure everyone knew they were loved and appreciated. Jesus' birthday was like celebrating everyone else's birthday, too. As an adult looking back on this, I liken it to recognizing God in each other. You saw a desire or need in someone you love and you fill it, pass it on, keep the love flowing... It was hard work to keep up with it! My Aunt Madge was the very matriarch of holiday protocol. While my mother was busy with the religious duties of taking us to church, my aunt was making and keeping a list all year long, both of them always prepared to make sure the kids and everyone else was remembered. Whenever I got gifts for my mom or aunt, I never felt like what I gave them was good enough -- they worked SO HARD to make sure everyone else was having a good time that my efforts to make sure they had a good time seemed so small.
It wasn't like they were hugely strict, it was because they were so powerful in my mind, how could I ever carry on what they did? Even at age 39 I feel like a child. I never was all that interested in the Christian religion like my mother was. I had other ideas and experiences. I don't like to cook or bake. I just wanted to be left alone. I experienced an epic fail one Thanksgiving day in the year 1990 -- it was my turn to cook the turkey and prepare a meal for my mother and brother and I -- but, not being all that talented in the cooking department, I forgot to thaw the turkey! So, no turkey dinner! And Mom was so unhappy she cried and cried and screamed and screamed at me for being so thoughtless. It was not long after that I lost interest in participating in family holiday celebrations altogether. Not because I didn't love my family, it was because I just didn't feel like my contributions would be good enough and that I would no longer be accepted because, after a lifetime of being forced to follow along with Christianity, I found a religion that perfectly fit in with who I am and didn't expect me to be anything I wasn't. I turned my back on my mother's religion, NOT on my mother, but rejecting something that was very important to her, something she believed in with her whole heart and soul, was like me turning my back on her forever. I always felt I failed her, but I would never lie to her. I always made sure to share with her who I am. I wanted to make sure she knew that what she taught me made me the woman I am today and that she was a good mother. But religion would be the one thing that kept us separate.
No matter the tolerance I maintain, I still find it difficult to forgive Christians for convincing my mother that I was going to Hell. The Christian religion separated us. After telling her I was a Witch, there was nothing I could do to make it up to her. She hit a brick wall whenever I shared with her what I believed and why I believed what I believed. For a couple Christmases after "coming out of the broom closet" to my Mom, the ritual of Christmas itself became more stressful. Every Christmas I found myself explaining and feeling obligated to educate, enlighten, and take all the fun out of celebrating the holidays with Christians. I eventually found it far less stressful to spend more time with other pagans and witches. Eventually it was harder to even visit with my mother altogether. It wasn't that I was rejecting her, in fact I had complete respect and perfect love for her and NEVER expected her to believe what I believed. I accepted her for who she was, my mother, and that acceptance went beyond religion. Simple matters of religious rituals aren't that imporant to the God(s), the Divine doesn't care what we call Them, what matters most is that we be excellent to each other!
Every Christmas I am reminded of the "silent night" carol -- the whole peace on earth theme -- and what that really means for us all, regardless of our individual religious affiliations. If we spend too much time focusing on "being right" we forget how to treat each other right. I hate having religious debates, especially when no one can seem to reach a common ground. The key to having world peace is to understand and tolerate our differences and still practice what we believe is right. With that said, I don't feel now that I failed my mother, but I still feel guilty every Christmas because now, after she's dead, I can't get all the holidays I missed with her back. Not just the holidays, but the days and nights we could've been better friends... if only her religion had permitted her to let go of that horrible belief that everyone is going to suffer eternal damnation if they aren't "saved" by letting Jesus into their heart. The last few years I've spent with my mother I did everything I could to please her and make her feel comfortable. This meant having to bite my lip and "wish Jesus a happy birthday" like we used to when I was a child. She could share with me what she believed, but I dared not share what I believed or practiced (even though she would repeatedly tell me she wanted to know more about me). Whenever I did share, she would cut me off, my brother would tell me to shut-up, and so for the last five Christmases I've had to constantly police myself and make sure all the Christians around me were respected. I "turned the other cheek" more times than perhaps they ever have. And every Christmas I would get depressed.
On the other hand, for the last two Winter Solstices I've had a loyal group of friends to celebrate with. While Christmases remained blue ones for me, Yule has become this explosion of social happiness -- the good kind of stress -- ! But now that my mother has died, my holiday stress isn't over... I'm hoping that this Christmas will be an emotional uplifting of the restrictions I felt I had to comply to with my mother. And yet... I feel the burden of her loss, made all the more intense because my aunt passed away this year, too. Will my little gifts wrapped with care be enough to soothe the hearts of my relatives? Gathering with them for Thanksgiving was a nice welcome after so many years being apart. I think this Christmas will be the same, but... there is still a nagging hurt in my heart.
I'm rediscovering that my family loves me (it's something I should've never forgotten). That makes this season more special than ever before. The emotional separation I had with my mother is gone, but now dealing with the physical separation is made easier reconnecting with the rest of the family. Yet I can't help still feeling like an insensitive dork when it comes to not contributing food I hand-cooked and giving only small, inexpensive gifts (some of them I hand made) -- yet do I really have to "go all out" to show I care? Would my Aunt Madge approve of the way I saved money or spent money or whatever? I remember one thing she told me after my Uncle Orley died when I expressed to her how sorry I was for not being around enough to help out. She said, "You're here now, that's what counts." Maybe that is the answer I've been asking for: just "being there" is the gift my family needs.
No matter what the holiday or differences in religion or lifestyle, WE are the GIFTS our family really needs.
I smile after writing that line. Thank you, Madge. Thank you, Mom. I'm here now.
Friday, December 17, 2010
My take on the "Happy Holidays" debate!
First of all -- HAPPY SATURNALIA everyone!
You wish me a Merry Christmas, don't be surprised if I wish you a Happy Yule or the generic "Happy Holidays" -- it's not politically correct, it's about each other wishing happiness for the other, no matter what your faith or culture!
I don't hate anyone who is different than me, and I don't make it a practice to push my beliefs on others, but sometimes being different makes it more difficult to be on the same page with other people. The only way to land on that page together is to start opening up and create a common dialogue. When you take the time to learn about what makes each of us different and find out what we have in common, the better we can fully appreciate and respect each other. But before you can reach that understanding, you have to have confidence and self respect as well. If you worry and obsess over what to say to others, you're caring more about what they think and believe in the wrong way! To give respect, you have to have respect.
Want to grasp the key to world peace this holiday season? Don't get politically correct, don't just generically assume everyone should consider your feelings,
and don't make it mandatory that what you believe should be the universal standard! If you are truly a good, spiritual person and practice a faith that preaches good will to all, you not only owe it to your fellow human being, but also owe it to yourself to reach outside of your comfort zone and really put that good faith in practice and really, truthfully and honestly, wish with all your might and heart for a stranger to have a happy holy day (the root of holiday is holy) REGARDLESS of what you or she may or may not celebrate.
I don't have to make you study my religion to get you to respect me during the holiday season! I find it equally crass and rude to hit your more conservative Christian relatives over the head with a detailed description of what Pagans celebrate. However, it's equally rude for those conservative Christians to assume that their "reason for the season" is the one and only origin of the season! The celebration of Christmas has its roots deep in ancient paganism. If you want to get deeply specific about the origins of Christmas, you have to realize that Christianity is not the only religion in the world that celebrates the virgin birth of a demi-God (a son or daughter of a God) during the longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice. But I don't want to play a religiously correct who-can-piss-the-most contest during the holidays! Wicca is also about giving good will to all humans this time of year, something that everyone lacks all year long, so it is best to let someone wish me a Merry Christmas because it's the right thing to do. It's not politically correct. It's just RIGHT to let someone wish you happiness and it's WRONG to make something as simple and good as a wish for happiness into something poltical, something selfish...
When someone assumes you celebrate what they celebrate, just smile and wish them the same. Wishing someone happiness should be something that is sincere. The winter seasons are harsh. The sunlight is shorter. People are more prone to becoming depressed from lack of sunlight. To reach out to someone and wish them happiness during a normally bleak season reflects genuine good will. It's not just politically correct to be "nice" during the holidays, it's a sentiment that should be practiced all year long!
I'm not Christian and I used to hate it whenever everyone assumed I celebrated Christmas. So whenever anyone wished me a Merry Christmas, I would turn around and say "Happy Yule!" If people want to get specific about what holy day to wish for someone, I usually felt obligated to wish them MY happy holy day! *snickers*
I find it MUCH more insulting when people assume Pagans and Witches don't celebrate a holy day like Christmas. We celebrate the same essential holiday but it centers around the Winter Solstice. If you want to know more about what Yule is, you can check out the description at Wikipedia, or go here to read up on the ancient origins of Winter Solstice holiday traditions, or go to Circle Sanctuary's page on Celebrating the Winter Solstice for extensive information on today's pagan holiday traditions and ancient pagan celebrations and visit Wikipedia for information on what happens during the Winter Solstice. I don't have to go into huge detail myself about what I celebrate because in our day and age so much information is already out there. And yet each Witch celebrates the Solstice differently. Everyone has their own individual celebrations. Winter is so dull and we're all stuck indoors because it's too cold, so no wonder the season itself seems to beg us to have a party! If not to stay warm, to just keep our spirits up.
After practicing Witchcraft for 20 years, I'm no longer so sensitive about who wishes me what -- I realize that when someone wishes me a Merry Christmas it's the same thing as wishing me happiness for the season. We shouldn't have to get so annoyed or hateful or political when it comes to wishing happiness for others! It's all the same wish, no matter what the holy reason for each season. I don't like it when Christians get political about Christmas and nor do I like it whenever people push on everyone a generic holiday greeting as not just a suggestion, but as a law.
I've worked retail jobs all my life and it's never just been a suggestion, it's always been a professional policy to wish customers a generic holiday wish "Happy Holidays" because you don't want to make the assumption that everyone has the same faith or belongs to the same culture. You don't want to isolate yourself from a paying customer, you want to make their holiday shopping experience to be positive -- not just to be nice, but to make money! If a customer feels you truly respect them, they will tend to not only buy more but recommend their friends and family go to your store to recieve the same positive experience. Shopping during the holidays can be a terribly stressful time. The more you appeal to strangers and get on their good side, the more they will spend time in your store to escape the hurry-and-scurry of holiday shopping.
Also, working at retail stores that sell holiday items and candy meant getting educated about each holy day celebrated by North Americans -- there's literally dozens, if not hundreds, thousands(?!) of holidays and other special occasions to buy gifts for year round. One of the best jobs I had was at
Godiva Chocolatier! I learned that to make a big sale was to get the customer to tell me what the occasion was they were buying chocolate goodies for -- if you know more about them, the better you can individualize the sale and the customer feels you have genuinely respected them.
I don't feel ill will whenever someone wishes me a Merry Christmas and I no longer abrasively, pridefully wish them back my "reason for the season!" I think most people realize you are wishing them happiness, pure and simple, and it's meant to be a nice gesture, not a political issue.
I believe that the average person knows better anyway, that it's not that big of a deal, and yet it is a big deal to wish someone happiness all year long!
But if you really want to wish me something exoridindarily happy holiday you could say something that most pagans and non-pagans alike don't often say on the Solstice: AVE SOL INVICTUS! Meaning "Hail the Unconquered Sun!" Because after the longest night of the year, the sun is "reborn" and unconquered by the darkness -- we can look forward to the return of longer days and shorter nights -- we welcome the warmth, acknowledge that the winter will not last, and that happier, sunny days are ahead. Yay.
There should be no debate on that!
Monday, December 6, 2010
My Ronni Chasen Dream
Once outside the cafe I was chased down by a black limo. Inside the limo was Robert Loggia playing the role of a jealous Mob boss who demanded I get in the vechile with him. "Come on, lovely!" He cried, but I ran away down a narrow alley where the limo couldn't follow. I soon came to a hotel surrounded by tall palm trees and lit by red lights. It looked like a cheap hotel you'd see in the B-movies set in southern California. I quickly ducked into the closest open room.
The room inside was decorated in vermillion brocades and silks. I laid in bed with a dark-haired man with an incredibly tiny penis. I pulled on it to wake him and he cried out in pain. The door to the room opened and in walked the NPH-look-a-like. "They've discovered us, we got to leave!" he said and proceeded to start to pack a big black plastic bag full of clothes. Before we could leave, bullets from an automatic machine gun exploded through the room, killing the men but leaving me still alive. I escaped through a tiny window in the bathroom and found myself at a city crossroads in broad daylight riding a half-horse/half-sheep.
The creature took me up into the air and then flew up to a magic/New Age store. I found myself in a new female body -- this one with red hair and I was dressed in a green silk gown. Rebekah was there and she carried a big green book -- it was a book that was part of a series of workbooks full of spellwork and so on -- and apparently it was written by me, Valentina. I felt self-conscious because I soon realized the entire store was filled with people wanting me to autograph these books. I told Rebekah she didn't need to ask me and I asked her to help me escape. She pointed to a hidden door and I took off.
I found myself back at the fancy condo, but this time it was early morning. The interior was a lot like the historic Bradbury Building but the Italian Neo-Renaissance architecture was all green marble. As I headed outside the front glass doors, I saw Ronni Chasen dressed in a virgin fox fur coat and she held out a large silver gun, pointed it at me, and fired. As the bullets flew and broke all the glass, she was screaming that "it's all your fault" and "this is for sleeping with HIM!" and my last memory was the bullets themselves changing to glass into diamonds. I woke up with a start almost believing I had died!
It really freaked me out.
Monday, November 22, 2010
In The Moment
I'm not sure how to begin, so I'll keep this all in the moment...
My friend, Rebekah, likes to post songs for each day on her blog, so I'll start with the song I'm playing on my music player right at this moment: "Birthday" by The Cruxshadows. In fact... while I'm at it, I might as well embed my favorite Vampire Freaks music player here to give you a taste of how "life in my world" sounds! Skip ahead to song #3 (that's the one I'm listening to right now) and I apologize ahead of time because the first song has lots of naughty "f" word language. If you like this music player but you want to pick your own playlist, the folks at Vampire Freaks let you do just that. If you love gothic and industrial music, Go check it out!
What I've been drawing
Godwin and Findlay are timetraveler fops, or gentleman time floppers, or maybe they're just my fantasy boyfriends. Whatever the case, I've been dreaming them up for some time now and I'm still not quite sure how the story will be told. I want to draw them true to their time period, just like old fashioned 18th century cartoons, but set them here in our time and interact with people -- I imagine them teaching "us children" how to dance, love, make merry, and embellish ourselves with beauty... properly.
I love old photographs. When I look into those faces from a previous century I'm compelled to imagine what their lives must've been like. Then I want to draw them, to really touch who these people were and bring them back to life by drawing them into our age... While drawing them I re-interpret them. They become new characters. They spin stories in my mind. We have a sort of conversation between us. Unheard. It's wonderful.
What I did today
Doctor visits. Running in the rain with a garbage bag on my head. Daydreaming. Waiting. Being surrounded by students. The dark comes too soon, but I love it. People watching. Catching people with my camera lens...
I didn't bloody well care what people thought of me this morning wearing this garbage bag for cover. I forgot my umbrella and someone was kind enough to let me grab a bag to keep myself and the equipment in my bag from getting wet.
The rain came down cold, hard, heavy. I am happy I didn't get soaked!
I didn't get a chance to talk to the girl waiting beside me. She seemed both tired and sad and very busy texting. She was interesting. So were the other people around me...
I'm always hyper-aware of the people around me, keeps me on edge all the time, and photographing my surroundings and the people in them has given me a sense of control over my environment. I am dealing with agoraphobic tendencies lately and this self-given photographic assignment has helped me get out the door and saved me from constantly re-scheduling appointments I need to keep to keep track of my health.
I've taken to photographing my feet -- a sort of therapy where I place myself in the moment and kept my anxiety at bay. My life seems to be all about being too sensitive -- emotionally, psychically -- and my duty to myself to constantly balance, practice peace, and meditate, be in the moment, strive to calm.
I love taking walks in the rain-soaked air and delighting at the sound my shoes make on the wet pavement, how my soles sink in the muddy grass, looking up at the sky and wondering when we are going to get a blanket of snow.
Time spent in the doctor's office is not my cup of tea...
BUT I found out today that my a1c levels have dropped by one. I am crawling closer to my goal. My blood sugar has become lower, too. And (bonus!) I don't (yet) have to take a fast-acting insulin -- that means less injections. Yay! I'm getting healthier. Now... if only I could have a smaller belly and less double chin. I don't mind being fat but I do want to have more room to move myself around in, if you know what I mean.
How I Woke Up Today
Early mornings annoy me. I'm a night owl. But there are times when I really have no choice but to get up in the wee hours, especially on those days when I have to fast 10 hours and run to do some blood work at the hospital lab so I can check on my progress. I'm doing battle with diabetes. I am determined to overcome. Even though my body was aching and hungry, I rose up like the undead...
What's New in my Apartment
A lovely red, black, and gold mask. Over the full moon I'm going to give it a name. He perfectly matches the color scheme I have set in my livingroom. And speaking of my home, I'm doing a little re-arranging and re-imagining of my space. My Uncle Doug is giving me a computer at month's end and I haven't yet decided where we will put it. I think it will go up in the loft... but then I pussy-foot around about it. I won't know how things will all fit in my space until we get them all together in one place.
I don't usually decorate for the holiday season, but I am thinking about buying some white string lights to brighten up my livingroom and want to get a daylight lamp for the spider plant I now have growing in my home. The plant once grew in my mother's nursing home room. I feel most obligated to keep it healthy, however, I'm a dunce when it comes to taking care of plants. So far the plant seems to not mind the low light and the blossoms that sprouted while it was at my friend Dala's store are still there, and thriving.
What I'll be doing Next
Painting watercolor portraits of Chix and Sundance, my cousin Terry's lovely horses. Gotta go grocery shopping for a small Thanksgiving dinner I'll eat with my brother on The Turkey Day (it's not exactly an American Indian holiday but we do celebrate the harvest). I also plan on starting a "secret lost diary" of my own creation on Tumblr, but then again... I keep changing my mind. I also want to start a blog focusing on the teachings of Witchcraft ONLY -- a sort of witch's journal. I don't know! but you know what's most important at this very moment? I have to go home and get some supper and CLEAN MY KITCHEN because my recycling garbage has reached epic porportions again. Plus I am going to take up bellydancing again!
Love you and thanks for reading about what's in the moment right now in my world.
My friend, Rebekah, likes to post songs for each day on her blog, so I'll start with the song I'm playing on my music player right at this moment: "Birthday" by The Cruxshadows. In fact... while I'm at it, I might as well embed my favorite Vampire Freaks music player here to give you a taste of how "life in my world" sounds! Skip ahead to song #3 (that's the one I'm listening to right now) and I apologize ahead of time because the first song has lots of naughty "f" word language. If you like this music player but you want to pick your own playlist, the folks at Vampire Freaks let you do just that. If you love gothic and industrial music, Go check it out!
What I've been drawing
Godwin and Findlay are timetraveler fops, or gentleman time floppers, or maybe they're just my fantasy boyfriends. Whatever the case, I've been dreaming them up for some time now and I'm still not quite sure how the story will be told. I want to draw them true to their time period, just like old fashioned 18th century cartoons, but set them here in our time and interact with people -- I imagine them teaching "us children" how to dance, love, make merry, and embellish ourselves with beauty... properly.
I love old photographs. When I look into those faces from a previous century I'm compelled to imagine what their lives must've been like. Then I want to draw them, to really touch who these people were and bring them back to life by drawing them into our age... While drawing them I re-interpret them. They become new characters. They spin stories in my mind. We have a sort of conversation between us. Unheard. It's wonderful.
What I did today
Doctor visits. Running in the rain with a garbage bag on my head. Daydreaming. Waiting. Being surrounded by students. The dark comes too soon, but I love it. People watching. Catching people with my camera lens...
I didn't bloody well care what people thought of me this morning wearing this garbage bag for cover. I forgot my umbrella and someone was kind enough to let me grab a bag to keep myself and the equipment in my bag from getting wet.
The rain came down cold, hard, heavy. I am happy I didn't get soaked!
I didn't get a chance to talk to the girl waiting beside me. She seemed both tired and sad and very busy texting. She was interesting. So were the other people around me...
I'm always hyper-aware of the people around me, keeps me on edge all the time, and photographing my surroundings and the people in them has given me a sense of control over my environment. I am dealing with agoraphobic tendencies lately and this self-given photographic assignment has helped me get out the door and saved me from constantly re-scheduling appointments I need to keep to keep track of my health.
I've taken to photographing my feet -- a sort of therapy where I place myself in the moment and kept my anxiety at bay. My life seems to be all about being too sensitive -- emotionally, psychically -- and my duty to myself to constantly balance, practice peace, and meditate, be in the moment, strive to calm.
I love taking walks in the rain-soaked air and delighting at the sound my shoes make on the wet pavement, how my soles sink in the muddy grass, looking up at the sky and wondering when we are going to get a blanket of snow.
Time spent in the doctor's office is not my cup of tea...
BUT I found out today that my a1c levels have dropped by one. I am crawling closer to my goal. My blood sugar has become lower, too. And (bonus!) I don't (yet) have to take a fast-acting insulin -- that means less injections. Yay! I'm getting healthier. Now... if only I could have a smaller belly and less double chin. I don't mind being fat but I do want to have more room to move myself around in, if you know what I mean.
How I Woke Up Today
Early mornings annoy me. I'm a night owl. But there are times when I really have no choice but to get up in the wee hours, especially on those days when I have to fast 10 hours and run to do some blood work at the hospital lab so I can check on my progress. I'm doing battle with diabetes. I am determined to overcome. Even though my body was aching and hungry, I rose up like the undead...
What's New in my Apartment
A lovely red, black, and gold mask. Over the full moon I'm going to give it a name. He perfectly matches the color scheme I have set in my livingroom. And speaking of my home, I'm doing a little re-arranging and re-imagining of my space. My Uncle Doug is giving me a computer at month's end and I haven't yet decided where we will put it. I think it will go up in the loft... but then I pussy-foot around about it. I won't know how things will all fit in my space until we get them all together in one place.
I don't usually decorate for the holiday season, but I am thinking about buying some white string lights to brighten up my livingroom and want to get a daylight lamp for the spider plant I now have growing in my home. The plant once grew in my mother's nursing home room. I feel most obligated to keep it healthy, however, I'm a dunce when it comes to taking care of plants. So far the plant seems to not mind the low light and the blossoms that sprouted while it was at my friend Dala's store are still there, and thriving.
What I'll be doing Next
Painting watercolor portraits of Chix and Sundance, my cousin Terry's lovely horses. Gotta go grocery shopping for a small Thanksgiving dinner I'll eat with my brother on The Turkey Day (it's not exactly an American Indian holiday but we do celebrate the harvest). I also plan on starting a "secret lost diary" of my own creation on Tumblr, but then again... I keep changing my mind. I also want to start a blog focusing on the teachings of Witchcraft ONLY -- a sort of witch's journal. I don't know! but you know what's most important at this very moment? I have to go home and get some supper and CLEAN MY KITCHEN because my recycling garbage has reached epic porportions again. Plus I am going to take up bellydancing again!
Love you and thanks for reading about what's in the moment right now in my world.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Peek into my World
I've been hidden away in my own little world again. And I'm so drowsey, tired, hungry... winding down like a dying clock... I only have a few moments of energy left in me to post an illustrated essay of what I have been up to. Take a peek, leave your two-cents worth, and thanks for visiting. I really need some company these days. I want to have a tea party. A mad hatter kind of tea party. I want to take a nap. I wish I could blog in bed. I need someone to turn my crank. Wind me up (or is that WIND me up? as in "wind" the sort of thing that breezes by or blows? heh)... oh, sometimes the words come out into little planets spinning around and before long I'm stuck on a dream.
Where was I?
I can't stop drawing big costume epic characters. The stories come out of the faces. I feel like my drawings are alive. Or maybe it's because I've been so manic lately? I hope that at some point in my life what I do will no longer be hidden. I want to be known.
I don't want to be a mystery.
Melusine is, by far, a character -- nay, a goddess -- who I can honestly say is a familiar mystery, my kind of patron fairy godmother. There's not a moment I don't think about her and how I'm going to draw her next.
I imagine her with wings of flesh -- petals of flesh -- and her scales are also like human flesh but also chameleon-like. I see her gliding in the midnight wind -- the sound of the wind in naked tree branches during November may very well be the sound of her passing by...
I would like to introduce you to her, if I could. So far this is the best I can do.
In a previous blog post I had this drawing above barely finished. It took the entire month to flesh it out. I just kept coming back to the images -- erasing, editing, scribbling -- mostly drawn in bed while I was tummy sick.
And anxiety sick.
Just simply depressed sick.
And everytime I want to be outside, want to socialize, want to do SOMETHING I get sick. But I'm doing something about it. I am conquering it. I am producing images. Making my own world. And sometimes... just concentrating on drawing is all I need to combat anxiety.
My head is always in the clouds.
Really. It is.
What am I talking about? Sometimes my "crazy" slips in in very creative ways. I'm always exploring myself, wondering why I am who I am, and discovering the beauty I don't always see when I look in the mirror.
I am starting to fall asleep and it is only 3:30pm! The days and nights blur into each other at my house. Someday the clouds will lift, the pain will die, and all the poetry -- the great desire I feel -- all the passion brewing, boiling, bursting will be released from me onto an unsuspecting world. Or maybe I'm just taking myself too seriously.
Maybe what I need to do on the walk home today is just simply play.
I shouldn't plan it, I just should let it happen.
I'm not sure what else to say. Maybe I should just leave you with one more image and let it explain the way I feel right now, let it reveal what I've been dreaming about, let it swell in your head for a little while...
This is home right now. If you were here with me we could sit underneath this elm and share hot cups of tea. Ahhh... so sweet. I am in love with the idea. Where ever you are touch something (or someone) warm and you'll know what my heart feels like.
Where was I?
I can't stop drawing big costume epic characters. The stories come out of the faces. I feel like my drawings are alive. Or maybe it's because I've been so manic lately? I hope that at some point in my life what I do will no longer be hidden. I want to be known.
I don't want to be a mystery.
Melusine is, by far, a character -- nay, a goddess -- who I can honestly say is a familiar mystery, my kind of patron fairy godmother. There's not a moment I don't think about her and how I'm going to draw her next.
I imagine her with wings of flesh -- petals of flesh -- and her scales are also like human flesh but also chameleon-like. I see her gliding in the midnight wind -- the sound of the wind in naked tree branches during November may very well be the sound of her passing by...
I would like to introduce you to her, if I could. So far this is the best I can do.
In a previous blog post I had this drawing above barely finished. It took the entire month to flesh it out. I just kept coming back to the images -- erasing, editing, scribbling -- mostly drawn in bed while I was tummy sick.
And anxiety sick.
Just simply depressed sick.
And everytime I want to be outside, want to socialize, want to do SOMETHING I get sick. But I'm doing something about it. I am conquering it. I am producing images. Making my own world. And sometimes... just concentrating on drawing is all I need to combat anxiety.
My head is always in the clouds.
Really. It is.
What am I talking about? Sometimes my "crazy" slips in in very creative ways. I'm always exploring myself, wondering why I am who I am, and discovering the beauty I don't always see when I look in the mirror.
I am starting to fall asleep and it is only 3:30pm! The days and nights blur into each other at my house. Someday the clouds will lift, the pain will die, and all the poetry -- the great desire I feel -- all the passion brewing, boiling, bursting will be released from me onto an unsuspecting world. Or maybe I'm just taking myself too seriously.
Maybe what I need to do on the walk home today is just simply play.
I shouldn't plan it, I just should let it happen.
I'm not sure what else to say. Maybe I should just leave you with one more image and let it explain the way I feel right now, let it reveal what I've been dreaming about, let it swell in your head for a little while...
This is home right now. If you were here with me we could sit underneath this elm and share hot cups of tea. Ahhh... so sweet. I am in love with the idea. Where ever you are touch something (or someone) warm and you'll know what my heart feels like.
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