Thursday, March 30, 2017
1. Nikki McClure's paper cut: 15,000 Years Later.
2. Coast Redwood seedling on my porch. Ordered on-line from Trees of Mystery in Klamath, California. Arrived in my mailbox on St. Patrick's Day. Planted in memory of my father who died on St. Patrick's Day in 2003. I hope that my seedling lives 2,000 years, if not 50,000. The three redwood seeds that I planted in December did not sprout, but I have followed my intuition as did the man in my dream from last December.
3. "Another, more beautiful America is arising ..." (Rebecca Solnit)
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Still thinking about my unbridled laughter mixed with tears in response to the video of the runaway horse, along with the one of the Tyrannosaurus Rex making a snow angel and making its uneven way through the snowy landscape and how those tears and that laughter relate to experiencing some peace in connection with my mother, who died in 1994. If she were still alive, she would be 101 years old on April 30. Maybe not peace. Maybe just losing my fear of the Tyrannosaurus Rex mother and meeting the gentle looking child that my mother was as she held her doll.
1. My mother as a 4-year-old girl in St. Paul, Minnesota, in 1920, holding a beloved doll. My mother said that she always wanted to have children, from an early age.
2. My mother as a young woman in the 1930s in Los Angeles.
3. Me in our apartment in San Mateo, California, with my red horse, 21 months old, Easter Day.
4. Me at 2 years old with my red horse. My mother did not seem to like me and my sisters or my father, and I did not like dolls or ever picture myself being married. When my mother brought me to a toy store and asked me to choose a doll, I angrily refused to choose a doll. I remember that moment so clearly. I wanted a boyfriend from a very early age but believed I would never have one because I was unloveable, that no one would ever want to marry me.
5. The orange horse with the purple mane and red-violet bridle that I drew when I was 5 years old.
6. My mother, my youngest sister, and me just before I turned 8 years old, when I was starting riding lessons at Rohn Stables, not far from where we lived in Redwood City, California. I was not afraid of horses, but I was deeply afraid of my mother's anger. When I saw the movie "Jurassic Park," around the time my mother died, the terrifying Tyrannosaurus Rex reminded me of my mother. I could not imagine growing up and having children and being as unhappy and angry as my mother seemed to be.
I've probably posted all these photos before. I am seeing them with new eyes.
"Music is the best way to communicate" (Toumani Diabate)
Friday, March 24, 2017
When I was a young girl I took English horseback riding lessons at Stanford Riding Academy. My mother was a natural born horsewoman and wanted her three daughters to have the wonderful experience she had with horses as a young woman in her 20's, but none of us inherited her gift with horses. One of the many horses I rode was named Beau. Beau was very much like the horse in the YoutTube video in that he had a mind of his own. Beau ran away with me on several occasions and once stopped abruptly, and I flew over his head and landed on my feet on the ground in front of him. Shaking in my boots, I climbed back up on Beau. I clearly remember my tears and frustration. I wanted so much to be good at riding horses like my mother, but I simply didn't have what it took.
It's been a long time since I laughed in the way I did watching this video and the one on my previous post with the Tyrannosaurus Rex making a snow angels and wandering off into a snowy landscape. Something is shifting inside me, with the arrival of both tears and laughter.
I would not have found the horse that made me laugh if I hadn't searched for, found, and listened to the video below. For some reason, the horse video in the sidebar caught my attention. Who knows why.
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Monday, March 13, 2017
A medical term. Plicate: being folded, tucked, or ridged, especially like a fan. Not to be confused with placate.
Still thinking about The Neverending Story and Bob Dylan's Neverending Tour and Charlie Chaplin and "The Dictator."
And current events.
In the end of the book, Bastian cannot remember his own name, but Atreyu (his mirror image) steps in and makes a promise to complete Bastian's unfinished stories.
A younger friend of mine commented that she was mourning the disappearance of Bob Dylan as she listened the cuts that have been released from "Triplicate." She said she was grateful to have all his previous work to listen to. She asked me for an explanation. I don't have one.
All I know is that I keep hearing the sound of Bob Dylan's voice in my mind and my heart. That's good enough for me.
Playing with words today. Triplicate. Threefold. Triptych. Fans. Covers. Prayers like rhymes. Liner notes from "John Wesley Harding":
There were three kings and a jolly three too. The first one had a broken nose, the second, a broken arm and the third was broke. "Faith is the key!" said the first king. "No, froth is the key!" said the second. "You're both wrong," said the third, "the key is Frank!
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Friday, March 10, 2017
This morning I received an email from bobdylan.com with "Stardust" from "Triplicate," the three CD set that Bob Dylan is releasing this month. Immediately following "Stardust" on YouTube was "Political World."
John Goodman said, "Just working with him, because if you try to read anything into him or try to interpret anything but just face value, you could get yourself in trouble."
For the first time since was 14 years old, I will not be buying Bob Dylan's latest offering because I really can't afford it. However, I will listen to the copy that our public library will inevitably purchase for its collection.
Just finished reading The Neverending Story, by Michael Ende, translated from German. Timely. A friend had recommended it. Otherwise I never would have read it. Why? It was too popular. However, I did wonder if there was a connection between the book and Bob Dylan's Neverending Tour.
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Finished this early this morning. Started it a few months ago. December, I think. There was nothing except the black center until sometime in the last few weeks.
Listen to Sean Lennon talk about "The Conscious Universe":
This series of interviews took place in 2010 when Sean Lennon was 35, the year John Lennon would have turned 70.