The Palace of Loverzan Don't mess with the palace guardian.
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Enjoy your visit.
December 31, 2002
A whole new year

release_bust.jpg

You know, people say that new years is silly, that every day is really a new year, but I must admit, it's one of my favorite holidays. I know it's only a conceptual thing, just another little box on the calendar, but something about the idea of having a whole new year, a fresh start, is very exciting to me.

It's nice to look back at the 'old' year, see all the shit that's gone down-and all the good things, too-and let go of it. To open up that new calendar, all fresh and blank, looking forward to all the adventures life will bring this year.

My friend and classmate, Jessica accompanied me to the beach and we did a little ceremony to celebrate letting go. I find, as I get older, my ceremonies are becoming a lot less fancy. This one was pretty concise.

I've had this broken angel sitting on my sculpture display stand in my house for over a year now. I made her as a sort of therapy work about the pain I was experiencing from a chronic back injury. The image of an angel with a crippled wing kept coming into my head. Physically, I felt all twisted, like I had a big, painful rock lodged by my right shoulderblade, and it seemed to be pulling the rest of me out of alignment too, my left lower ribs hurt, like they were jutting out of my chest. I was also really ill from candidiasis(exhausted, skeletal, irritated and depressed)and my TMJ(jaw)disorder was really acting up-all in all, I just felt like a WRECK!

So I put it all into this sculpture. My mom did a video of me kneeling so that I'd have a model to work from, all angles. That was super, I find my scultures always come out so much better when I have a real model to work with.

So she's a martyred angel, kneeling, head bent back in agony and exhaustion. Her right wing is pierced by multiple spikes that jut from her own body, crippling it. Her left floating ribs are exposed, sticking out cagelike from beneath her breast. Small birds entrapped within attempt escape. Spikes also impale her jaw and tailbone.

release_ribcage.jpg


I didn't glaze her, just left her that pure, unfinished white of bisqueware clay. Her wing broke several times in transport from one house to another. Then Caras kittens decided the tall glass shelves of my display were a wonderous playground. They sent her crashing down onto my guardian wolf(who luckily just got a bit dinged), she lost her nose, toes and more wing.

Since she seemed destined for destruction, I decided to send her off with the honor and ceremony she deserved rather than just letting her get banged to pieces by mischievious kittens.

release_back.jpg


So, Jess and I had our little ritual, even though the candles kept blowing out, on the pebble strewn beach down by Magnuson park. After saying what we had to say, I took off my pants and waded out into the freezing cold lake water(it's shallow there, so I had to go out a ways). Almost waist deep, I raised the angel up, let out a wild scream, and threw her as far as I could.

I watched the water bubble, closing over her, then she was gone.

It felt grand.

release_bust.jpg

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 02:31 PM | Pipe Up! (3)
December 30, 2002
snip, snip, snip

Sam was starting to sound like a grouchy gremlin, so I took him outside. Nine giant garbage bags of leaves awaited us.

We spread them out nice and thick on the garden, a winter mulch to keep the weeds down. I planted some anonymous bulbs that were lying around-hope they're something cool... Then it was time for Sams favorite garden task-clipping.

I made good use of my shiney new x-mas pruners(thanks, Jess n' Josh!) as we trimmed the herb bed of all its dead stalks and took all the gnarly old tomato vines off the trellis. It was a nice way to spend a cold afternoon.

Now when I do the dishes I can look out the kitchen window at the sweetly tucked in garden beds and dream of spring planting...

Sam's a good little helper.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 06:44 PM | Pipe Up! (1)
December 29, 2002
Enough of the past drama, on with the future!

Or at least the present. Heehee.

I DROVE today

Yes, as in I drove a car-WHOOHOO!

Ok, so it was only in a parking lot at Magnuson Park, and I didn't take it higher than 1st gear, but if you knew how hella terrified I was of the whole idea, you might understand how triumphant I felt doing circles through puddles in an empty parking lot. I turned, I stopped, I started, I drove all the heck over that lot and the nearby lot-I even drove out of the lot and around a big empty old naval commissary building, where I parked and let Jessica take the wheel.

Considering that on my first lesson I was too petrified to even start the vehicle, I'm pretty proud of myself.

Thanks, Jessica, you rock!

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 05:21 PM | Pipe Up! (3)
The Rowanator is back!

Yay! Ben and Rowan are back from x-mas in Alaska. Sam and Rowan played all evening, delighted to be reunited.

Me too. I missed those guys.

Love my friends.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 01:33 AM | Pipe Up! (0)
Of fire and men

POETRY 2001-2002

This is the last entry in the series. Thanks for reading. Hope I haven't bored anybody to death. It felt good to type them all out from my Blue Giraffe journal scrawlings. Sort of a cleansing process, I guess.


This is prose, not poetry. It's one of the last things I wrote in my journal last year, so I decided to include it in the series anyway.


Of fire and men

I left home at 15 with a fire raging in my soul.

Three years later, I left again-this time clear across the nation. College began for me with equal parts elation and depression. The fire was still eating me. I tried to slake it with attention from others.

My teachers admired my art and my intelligence. My friends admired my generosity and creativity. Men admired my tiny waist and long legs-which became progressively more visible as my dresses grew shorter and tighter. I thrived on the attention.

My roomate, Suzanne, had a different method. She slit her wrists several times over the course of our living together. It certainly got some attention, but didn't help her relationships much. I tried to be a good friend to her. We'd talk and dance and bake cookies together-but I don't know if I helped her much, I was pretty overwhelmed myself.

Sculpting, drawing, writing-art of all kinds has always been a passion and a solace for me, as well as a way of putting something of myself, my real, inner self, out into the world where people can see it.

My life then was a searching. I loved school for all the new discoveries there were. Life drawing was always my favorite. I could never get tired of looking at, sketching, outlining, filling in and capturing naked people. There's something so uniquely exquisite in the human form. I love to follow the curves and angles, to draw-to sculpt!-the soft flesh, the boney ends, the silky hair...

But if art gave me respite, the rest of my life was an adventure in the topsy-turvy world of love. Each time I fell in love I thought I'd found what I was aching for.
My fire would bank itself for a time and I would lie content, held in those strong arms that promised so much. I gave myself with wild abandon in those days, paying no heed to the warning signs flashing right before my eyes.

My men were dark and beautiful. To me, they were noble, struggling so hard in an unfair world and for them, I was their Goddess! I would save them with my generous outpouring of love. I failed to notice my resources ebbing, debts mounting. Niaive, I didn't read the signs of their addictions, their deep, unhealed wounds. Truth always came too late, and bit like a knife in the gut. That knife twisted deepest when the end inevitably came and I heard the words of breaking up fall from my lips like a magic spell...saw them sink in...watched the men I had loved-did love!-deflate. So many times this scene has played out in my life. And always, the relentless pursuit, the forced amputation, as they swear love and then HATE and I must sever them from my life like a wolfs trapped leg.

Here perhaps my fire has served me well. A blazing force that kept me upright when I would have collapsed at their feet and begged forgiveness and mercy. Art is definately the way to go. My sculptures don't yell in my face. They never call me a cold bitch, they don't twist my words and batter me with their hate, anger and pain. And they certainly don't look at me with eyes too aware of loss and full of grief that beg me to try harder to forgive again, again and again.

Yeah, I think I'm gonna stick to art. Just art... Who knows, maybe I'll find a way to quench that fire myself.


Feb 6th, 2002

Wow, it's been strange rewriting all this. Seems there's a lesson here for me. I suppose it's one of those psychological biggies like not looking outside myself for the love and attention, acceptance and admiration I should find within. Being still, remaining calm, open. Not pursuing, grasping, seizing for a hold on life, on love. It's coalescing for me, slowly, bit by bit, in the poetry I write, the books I read, the people I meet, my life experience... It's bringing me around to meet myself.

Can I sit by myself, wholly alone? Just sit and relax into who I am, face whatever lies within, without running? Without hiding? Without distraction?

It's odd, of all the terrifying things life brings us face to face with, I think the most difficult is just to sit and truly look at ourselves. Do we think we will see something so ugly, so dreadful, that we won't be able to live with ourselves?

Or is it because we are afraid there is no self to look at? That all our little collection of wishes, of likes and dislikes, of loves and hates, boils down to nothing? No solid being. No real me.

No Roseanne at all.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 01:10 AM | Pipe Up! (0)
The Ram

POETRY 2002

This one I carved on the bottom of a vase I made for D.

The Ram

The Ram stands alone.
Powerful hooves stomp,
dust rises thick, choking the air.
Muscles bunch, mighty horns held low.

Yet there is stone beneath him
and the spring flows pure.
A gentle song in the dim silence.
Clarity blooms as the song lifts.

Tense shoulders release.
The Ram raises his face
as a sudden pink snowfall
fills the air with cherry petals.

As the air clears,
the rocks turn pink
and the canyon rings
with the snort of his startled laughter.


Valentines Day, 2002


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December 28, 2002
Gratitude

POETRY 2002


Gratitude

I welcome my life with joy.
Even illness and pain.
Even thin bones and chill, cold rain.

I give thanks for my beautiful boy.
All the frustration and all the love,
The occasional sunny skies above.

I open and recieve it all.
Joy and pain flow through me
leaving blessings and wisdom inside me.

Relax this body, relax this mind.
Let it fall silent to the ground.
Amongst winter leaves and earth let your self be found.

Jan 17th, 2002

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 11:47 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
December 27, 2002
Real world

POETRY 2002


Real World

Sometimes I fly so high my world is real.
So clear, so bright, so light I feel.

You, you are right there.
There's no fear up here, where
Love gives us wings.

I sing out loud, so proud my voice rings!
We fly into the sunrise,
and, as the night dies

Your hands find me, guide me, hold me.
Spread out on firey cloudbed

wrapt in crimson, glowing red.
We embrace and, as the sun bursts though,
we fuck like the angels do.


Jan 17th, 2002

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 09:25 PM | Pipe Up! (2)
Dreamlover

POETRY 2002

More wistful, wishing, wanton longing for Daniel...

Dreamlover

I have never felt your skin
cleave to mine.

The trembling of my limbs
at your caress.

Never tasted the sweet curve of your lips,
the deep well of your mouth.

Nor held your surging body
tight between my thighs.

I may never know the feel of you
blooming inside me.

The deep, deep fullness,
the sliding into joy.

The exquisite play of smooth hardness
in creamy softness.

Our lips and tongues, hands and fingers
exploring, laughing, revelling in each other.

Only in my dreams,
only in my silent moments.

Only in the sacred space
under these warm blankets.

My heart beats, pumping
hot blood throughout.

Then I know you, I see you,
I feel you.

Only in my dreams you grin
a wicked loving grin.

Only in my dreams your eyes flash
a deep desire.

Only in my dreams
your hands clasp my flesh.

Say my name and I ignite.
Look into my eyes, read my soul.

Your name is blazoned there.
Touch me! Oh God, only touch me.

If only in my dreams.

Jan 11th, 2002

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 09:12 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Cracked

POETRY 2002


Cracked

My cup was cracked
The water flowed out.

My milk was gone
I was empty.

Now I see the break,
the fracture running through me.

In the quietude of emptiness
I can feel the sharp edges

Stillness brings focus,
energy like laserlight.

Melting the sharpness, fusing the gap
creating wholeness, integrity.

My cup stands waiting
for the rain to fill it.

I am this shining clear vessel
ready for abundance.

Jan 10th, 2002

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 08:50 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Recognition

POETRY 2002


Recognition

I see my son with his father.
His face lights up with a sweet smile
of mama recognition.

I kneel and hold him in loves embrace.
Sudden sorrow comes
when he asks: can I come with you mama?

He can't. He is my son
but I cannot take him home now,
cannot be with him tonight.

I tell him tomorrow,
he seems OK with that,
but I am not.

I know this is necessary
and it is good he has a father
who wants to be with him.

But my mother-self is fierce.
Her baby is hers, she will not condone
this ridiculous seperation.

I watch his tiny figure grow
even smaller as I drive away.
He is gone and tomorrow may never come.


Jan 5th, 2002

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 08:38 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Breakthrough

I wrote this three days before I moved out.


Breakthrough

Break,
break,
break through.

Shatter, smash it down.
Leave, leave it all behind.

Climb through the wreckage of yourself.
Break through.

Crash it all! Break it to pieces.
Fall broken to the ground.

Here you can see who you are.
This shattering, battering, scattering of broken pieces...

This is your way through.
Breakthrough.

You are broken.
You are free.

Now, you can begin to heal.

Dec 28th, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 08:26 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
The Web

POETRY 2001

I wrote this in gratitude for all my dear friends, old and new.

The Web

Through the cold darkness
thin golden threads stretch.

Reaching out,
touching the tight, sharp bones
of my chest gently.

Slender filaments, like warm hands
wrap themselves around
my tired heart.

Glowing light and soothing warmth
Quiet the tense chatter
of my mind.

I close my stinging eyes and see
living webs of light
spread out from the center of my heart.

Breathing in the beauty,
I send out a tremulous pulse of gratitude
rippling on this web of love.

My friends hold me and I, them.
The vision fades,
but the tranquility remains.

Dec 26th, 2001

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Phoenix Rising

POETRY 2001


Phoenix Rising

Like a Phoenix rising from the ashes
of its dead mother,
I scream of loss and freedom.

Burning to live, killing what was
to set free what is.

Red wings frenzy-flapping, seeking air
I lift upwards.

The sky echoes, vast and empty blue,
cut by newborn wings.

Calling courage, clumsy flutter
smoothes to steady beat.

Soaring unknown.

High, bright and alone.


Dec 17th, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 08:08 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
All I See

POETRY 2001

This was written late one night. D was working his night job at Spacelabs then, so I'd call him in the middle of the night and we'd talk for ages. If I was having a hard night-which was probably almost every night back then-he'd sing to me. I loved the sweet sound of his voice. He'd sing Buddhist songs, pop songs and his own songs. I loved them all. He had a wonderful knack for picking the exact song to comfort me with.

All I See

All I hear is your voice
singing to me.
All I see is this empty room.

I press the telephone to my ear hard
and bury my eyes deep.

All I hear is your voice
singing to me.

I will not see this room.
I hear you loud and clear.

So near,
so dear.

I bury my eyes and listen
all I hear is your voice.

coming in,
come on in.

Sweet,
sweet,
sweet
voice.

No body.
Nobody but me.

I hang up the phone
and all I see is you.

Dec 16th, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 07:54 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
December 26, 2002
Rumi


Quietness

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins to the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You're covered in thick cloud.
Slide out the other side, die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.

The speechless full moon
comes out now.

My dear friend Sheri brought me this Rumi poem at a time when I most needed to hear it.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 11:09 PM | Pipe Up! (2)
The Vampire

POETRY 2001

The Vampire

There is a vampire inside me.

Inside me this cave of dark frustration.
There a vampire thirsts.
She is a small child.
Bone thin, with eyes that burn
and fierce sharp teeth.
She is ragged and filthy.
Her fingernails are broken and full of grime.

I feel her move inside my chest
when I begin to fall in love.
I feel her sharp claws in my back
as the glow ignites.

Her desperate waves of hunger
tied with helpless rage,
echo through the opening of my heart
and the insatiable blaze of my clitoris.

Sex and love are the blood she craves.
This delicious food that carries me to bliss,
nourishes and lights my soul,
fills my heart with joy and hope-
yet cannot slake her thirst.

She does not understand.
She is but a child.
a tiny, empty vessel of need.
All she knows is sadness and hatred.
She feeds voraciously but recieves no sustenance.

I hold her, for I am the cave around her.
But that is not enough, for she IS me.
I shall have to enter that place of dread and slime.
Somehow I must free her, free me.

I must face the filth and horror.
Overcome revulsion and terror.
I must lift her up and hold her close.

Only I can melt away her pain.
Only I can love her enough
to forgive her and to understand
the torture that drove her to
such hatred and self-abnegation.

I must hold her in compassion.
My vampire self,
feed her from my own veins.
It is the blood of my love and understanding
that she must have.

Therein is the nurterance we crave.
The integration of ourselves.
And so I carry her from the cave,
she snuggles close in my arms.

She sighs, a babies sigh of relief and satisfaction.
Held in the safe, strong love of her mothers arms.
Walking into the light outside,
I feel the weight lift and transform.

Her small sweet body melts away
Soaking into my heart like warm rain.

I stand alone.
Knowing fullness.
A strange, sweet sensation
of being in one place,
in one piece,
in one time.

Here,
I have the capacity
for wholeness.

It is a feeling of such utter serenity
the power of it rocks me.
I cavort like a joyous child in a mudpuddle
with
shiny,
new, black
boots.

Dec. 9th 2001


Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 10:58 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Sadness

POETRY 2001


Sadness

Oh sadness, oh terror,
sunken to the core.
This heavy boot upon my chest.
What is living for?

No love for me,
nowhere to rest my head.
Nothing but grief
echoing, horrible red.

A small girls helpless rage.
There is no relief
only more abuse to go
for a heart
that cracked apart
long ago.


Dec 9th, 2001


Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 10:37 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Dreams of love

POETRY 2001

In the midst of anguish, I suddenly fell head over heels in love. It was crazy at the time. I had yet to move out from the house of pain, my life was really up in the air, and this man, this amazing, beautiful, kind man was a celibate buddhist. We became friends, yet I could not eradicate the passion inside me, indeed it grew with every encounter.

All I could do was write in my journal:


Daniel,

Why is my heart so sure you're mine?
and, oh, my body wants to entwine
herself with you.

It makes no sense to me
yet the intensity
takes my breath away.

Each night I call to you.
Last night I felt your hands on me.
Upon waking I knew
I would not see
you there.

So I linger where
dreams sweet bliss
holds us, lets us kiss.
Here I may say all I wish.

Here I hold you deep in Love
that cannot be fed in the world above.

Dec 4th, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 10:13 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Waking up...

...still half in dreamtime, I waited for the muffled thud of Sammy sliding down from his bunk, the little footsteps, the creak of the door, the sleepy befuddled look in his blue blue eyes, his angel-blond head all sleep-mussed as he peers under the covers to find mama.

It's one of my favorite times of the day. He climbs in bed with me all soft and cuddly and we just love each other up. He likes to say: "Mama cute! Cutie yittle mama." and I reply: "Cutie little Sam".

It took me a long moment to realize that he wasn't coming, that he wasn't there.

Now that Jonathan and I have finally signed and filed our papers, Sam will be at his papas 3 days a week, going to full halftime in March.

It's good to have things settled, legal bullshit over with. I hope that this will be a good arrangement for all of us. I pray that it will be good for Sam. Surely it will be better than continuing the hideous struggle. He has two parents who love him, two good homes to live in.

I will miss him though. I know I should look at the positive side. I will have more adult time. Time for schoolwork, for practice massage, time to find a job, earn a living, time for artwork...

My Samadhi, I love you so. May your life be blessed, may both your homes be full of love, discovery, learning, play, music, creativity, joy and peace.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 02:06 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Potpie

Terra rocks the house!

She made us homemade(completely from scratch-without so much as a recipe)chicken potpie!

Man, oh man, was it yummy!

It was the best christmas dinner ever. Then Josh, Terra, Yoni and I all snuggled up and watched a really long movie about that amazing woman, Golda Meier.

Nice.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 01:34 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Free

POETRY 2001

I'm coming to the end of my 2001 poems, pulled out of my blue giraffe journal that sat faithfully by my pillow recording my dreams, nightmares, ravings, despair and faith for so much of that very long distressing year.

I was desperately packing, trying to find someplace for Sam and I to go to get out of the house that used to be our home, where now I was so unwelcome and reviled.

It was Christmastime last year.


FREE

I am not what you think of me.
Your anger, pain, hatred and disdain are you,
not me.

This cold, controlling bitch
you paint exists only in your head.

You haven't seen my truth for ages.
You say my heart shuts like a flytrap,
but you were there when it was open.

Long years you ignored and neglected me.
I tried. I cried. I lingered in that limbo.

I am acting from my heart,
with integrity and compassion.

I am trying to be still, to be loving
to be strong for my son and for myself.

Open to the universe
with all its blessings and teachings.

Our darkest days
often reveal our most precious gifts.

In the midst of turmoil
I am free.

Dec 1st, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 01:29 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Strength

POETRY 2001

You grab the soft feathers of my thoughts
and crumple them into a brick.

You heft this at me,
but I did not think that.

I will not accept this weight on my conscience.
I am not cold, heartless.

I am full of magic.
I am strong, brave and aware of my soul.

I am capable of so much more
than you see in me.

I am beautiful. I AM womanly.
I am a woman of strong, strange magic.

I am healing, I am open.
I am alive, vibrant and sexy as hell.

I know who I am.

Nov 21st, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 12:54 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Outrageous

POETRY 2001

I just read this poem at our solstice party(more than a year after I'd written it) to open the circle. It seemed appropriately encouraging to a group of people who came together to feast and share their creativity.

It was an awesome gathering. Thanks to all who came. Long will I remember all of us laughing and singing together with the sweet sound of Joshs guitar carrying us through the longest night of the year.

OUTRAGEOUS

There is so much inside me,
yet my tongue finds herself stuck.
Glued to the bottom of my gums.
I want to share, to free
the treaures buried in gobs of muck
but when someone comes
I hide! Deep inside.

Would that I could,
rip open my mind.
I know I would find
many a friendly, helping hand
to sort through the pile

Things dark, or silly, petty, or grand.
To hold me a while,
as I sit and feel,
what is real
and what is not.

And there in the stillness,
I could let go of my illness.
The cold silence, the rage so hot.
I cast it all off and stand clear.

Shivering with relief,
I watch my fear and my grief
sink into the earth,
melt away in that vast hot density.

There, in that amazing intensity,
I stand with the whole human race.
Healed and healing,
an open joyous feeling.

Naked souls in sacred space.
Arm in arm around the earth.
Here I claim my place
and know what I am worth.

Nevermore will I heed
that abject apologetic need
to bury, to cover, to hide the scars
away from judgements ire.

NO! I have walked through fire.
Stood naked beneath the stars.
My hands have shaped dragons from clay.
My heart has dreamt me flying.
No more wistful crying.

I'm ready to play!
Come on!
Poetry is contagious!

Fear gone,
we
can
be
TOTALLY OUTRAGEOUS!


Nov 18th, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 12:18 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
December 24, 2002
Sammyspeak

It's pretty contagious. He just has such a funny, stubborn way of saying things. Perhaps not exactly eloquent(he is only just short of five) but, his exclamations are pretty clear expressions of whatever five year old angst he is momentarily and wholeheartedly feeling, they contain no constraints of adult politeness-they just go to the heart of the matter. Thus, when D and I are out by ourselves and it's cold we look at each other and chorus: "TOOOO COOOLD!" in Sammyspeak, or "TOOOOO TIRED!". Or if we miss our bus-"STUPID BUS!".

Now my housemates, Terra and Yoni, do it too. Not to mention Buster and other friends of ours...

If there's a food you're really not enjoying, which if you are the current manifestation of Sam seems to be anything that doesn't involve bread, pasta or sweets, it's: "NEVER make this dinner again!". On the other hand, if you're really digging that bagel/honey/nutbutter/banana sandwich-then: "ALWAYS make this lunch!" gets your enthusiastic and authoritative endorsement across perfectly.

It's odd, you spend so much time trying to get them to learn to communicate with you, with words, to tell you how they are feeling... But it's often hard to accept the vehemence of feeling in their actual communication.

Sam displays such nakedness of anger, pure frustration and autocratic delight, it can be hard to hear, to just let it be, let him suffer it, express it. It's not "nice" behaviour.

And where do you draw the line with physical expressions of violent emotion? My rule has always been no hitting living beings and no damaging property or causing big messes, but what about hitting the couch? Is that a healthy outlet of aggression? Or is violent behaviour just NOT healthy? Is it better to insist he uses words, tells us when he is mad? I don't know, I have always thought that adults who hit and smash, wielding destructive force against objects that irk them are immature and need to take a good look at what's inside them and who they're mad at. But, kids... Where do you draw the line? How do you teach the importance of nonviolence without labeling them and disassociating them from their emotions?

Sam told me last night he has a blow up doll at his fathers house that he can hit when he is mad. He said it's shaped like a boy, an angry boy. I know that it was probably suggested by a therapist and maybe it's a good way to get aggression out-but the thought of my son angrily punching the hell out of a doll-boy really freaks me out.

My sister is into kickboxing and karate and I've always admired her for it. It does seem to be a good outlet for pent up aggressive energy as well as good healthful exercise. Maybe humans just naturally have this residual primal aggression inside us and finding ways to let it out without hurting anyone is the way to go.

What do y'all think? Anyone have an opinion to share with me?

I distinctly remember the last time I was violently destructive. I was pissed at the remote control and I hurtled it across the room, shattering it to pieces. It was years ago and I still remember the silence of that moment, sitting there surveying the destruction as my heat dissipated. There was no triumph or relief. I just felt stupid.

So, I guess that's my take on it. Violence is stupid.

Stupid violence.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 11:25 PM | Pipe Up! (3)
December 19, 2002
MERRY KIDS

So much love.

cutie cutes from cuteport


Happy new year everybody!

loverzan

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 03:19 PM | Pipe Up! (4)
December 16, 2002
Tall Sky

POETRY 2001

Tall sky, here is no confusion.
The bluest blue, though color be mere illusion.
seems to stretch ever upwards,
reaching out towards
the universe, dark and vast.

Myriad stars their glittering messages cast
through the ages.
Life energy
sustains me,
charges me, enlarges me
bids me create.

While all the while silly humans alternate
between rush, rush, rush
and wait, wait, wait.

I will be still,
calm and centered,
for starlight has entered.

I saw it flash through the skies
when I looked in your eyes.

Nov 9th, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 11:55 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Tragedy

POETRY 2001

There is a side of me
that believes in tragedy.
Loves most fervent desires unmet.

A perfect drama
for a cast of four.
Heart-rending trauma,
cuts to the core.

Must I play my life like this?
It's so stupid,
Cupid!

Why should your arrow pierce now,
Such crazy desire, so fierce now?

And if I do not heed it,
say I do not need it;
then I will bleed.

Stuck in the rut of my life,
sad, neglected wife.

But my son, my brilliant boy!
Child of my body, my love-song of joy,
his love, and mine for him
is the brightest star.

I will never mar
his life with my unhealed scar.

Let this dread ranting cease!
May we all find sweet release.

Live only in our bodies, day by day.
Eat, sleep, work and play.

Heed not the rush of joy, the heady glance.
Avoid loves sharpest lance.

I will not leap,
yet in sleep,
dream secrets keep.

The magic is flowing,
Love is growing.

Nov 9th, 2001

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 11:47 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
December 15, 2002
SOOOO tired...

Man, these weekend seminars really kick my ass. Or maybe it's the staying up all night with a certain someone...

Anyhow, I'm home now, dog-tired and my kiddo is due back any minute.

woohoo. I think it's definately movie night. Thomas the Tank Engine actually sounds like a GOOD idea right about now.


Remind me to get some sleep.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 05:53 PM | Pipe Up! (2)
December 12, 2002
back in the swing

Yay, I'm starting to feel excited about massage again. Somehow over break and during the first week I kinda lost my enthusiasm and all those extended sequences just seemed so long and choppy I didn't even want to do them on anyone who wasn't a classmate.

Plus I felt yucky and all stressed out and I don't really like to work on folks when I'm like that.

My neck's still a bit screwy, but I feel better and more on an even keel.

I've got seminar this weekend-two days of massage and they're letting us start to do our own thing instead of adhering strictly to sequences-woohoo!

'course I might not be so excited about it come early saturday morning, but if Keridwyn wears her brilliant aqua pants all will be well.

Heehee.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 10:39 AM | Pipe Up! (0)
December 06, 2002
woeisme

Waaaaah! I FEEL YUCKY!

My head is so FULL. It's been hurting for days. I've got some sort of weird flu thing. It's never full blown snottiness-nothing wants to come out of me, it's all there lurking inside. My chest aches, tummy is slightly unhappy, head aches that flare up viciously, then recede...

WTF? I wish it would just come out and be done with. I'd rather be really sick for a few days and then feel better than just have this lingering bloated sinus/ear/head congestion thing.

Well, at least I'm trying to listen to my body now. I stayed home tonight instead of going out to a kickass Hannukah(did I spell that right) party with D

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 06:09 PM | Pipe Up! (2)
December 05, 2002
bleeah.

Being enmeshed in a legal battle with an exloved one is hell.

every time I feel really good, clean, free, happy and right on about my life, I get a reminder that it's still not over, may never be over...

It's like a stain that won't go away, or glue. You can't leave it behind, you can't ignore it because if you do it grows while you're not looking.

Lurking behind polite expressions, the demons are feeding on every unguarded moment, every small gesture of affection, or of irritation. Grabbing it all up, twisting them into weird nasty little weapons. Muttering and chortling in their sickness, their paranoid delight, these demons are the ruin of us all. They build weapons, arsenals, perpetuate conflict, feed war, hatred, destruction.

There they are. Lurking, waiting for us weak humans to let them possess us, use our minds and bodies to wreak havoc on the world.

Where do we find the strength to resist our dark impulses? How do we stand courageous before dread and say NO! I, small human being that I am, will not allow this?

I will not listen to the dark mutterings. I will not be overcome by jealousy and anger. I will see clearly, I will listen truly, with all my might, all my powers of discernment, I will strive to be aware, to perceive accurately, to comprehend and to act righteously.

Were I religious, I'd say: God help us all.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 12:38 PM | Pipe Up! (1)
December 02, 2002
Mmmmmm...

Break was fun, and yummy.

Two turkey feasts, a train journey with my Sammy boy and an awesome ocean getaway with Daniel and a buncha sweet peoples.

My favorite yumminess was actually leftovers... We made turkey/stuffing/cranberry sauce/creamcheese sandwiches on a lovely sandy beach at sunset. So nice.

So now it's Monday night, I'm back at school again... Only I wasn't quite ready to admit it, so I snuck out early with a classmate, only to find that I'd left my bag o' groceries behind! Darn it, I had to walk sheepishly back in and get it-so much for Little Miss Cool Skips School.

Straight from the Queen's mouth. Sayeth rzan at 10:00 PM | Pipe Up! (0)
Mountain dweller