September 29, 2004
my muscles are screaming!
massage may do a body good-but doing massage ain't no good for this bod tonight...
Whine, whine, whine.
Four massages and all of them deep tissue junkies. I swear some peoples flesh is so dense you'd hav'ta use one of those ridged metal meat tenderizers to make a dent in 'em.
One client tonight kept asking me to go deeper into her shoulder with my elbow-DEEPER!-holy shit lady, I've already got all my weight balanced on my pointy little elbow sunk into your neck, not to mention pushing off the wall with all my force for extra leverage.
Sigh... I shoulda just told her to go get rolfed or something. She'd already had two hours of massage by that point.
Big folks all of them, till my fourth client, I thought, mercy, someone average sized who just wants to relax... Until she uttered those casual words: 'You could go just a bit deeper...'
My poor rhomboids feel like bloody spaghetti, and I have two more days of work to get through! It's definately an ibuprofen and traumeel kinda night.
Really though, despite my rampant whining, I'm awful glad to have the job.
and hey, I think I'll sleep well tonight, moon or no moon!
in my head...
a song I heard a folksinger crooning on the UW campus, like nigh on a decade ago...
'Marry me, bury me, put me in therapy, pick me up and carry me home...' I loved it then, kind of sweet and to the point about the trials of life, sad, but happy too in an odd way. I wanted to know more about her and her music, but all I have is that one line that often comes into my head.
There's also a Dr Seuss quote at my girlscout painted busstop that really rocks:
'You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You are what you are and you know what you know and you are the guy who'll decide where to go!'
Whoopee! It's pretty cool to read that everytime I go to my new job.
Well, Tara is still softly glowing in the candlelight on my little, wicker altar. I think I'll make an offering to her and try to go to sleep.
Will someone please turn out the moon?
the mama lama with the velvet skin
that's what Sam called me tonight. What a little sweettalker!
We were all snugged up in bed reading the last book of the Pullman Trilogy. It's called the Amber Spyglass and it hasn't let us down once. It's the rockinest kids book I've ever read, and I must say I've read my share!
Can't wait till tomorrow morning for the next chapter...
Sam and I had a sweet afternoon, laying on the red horse carpet in the sunny living room, listening to the beatles while I drew the biggest hourclocks ever and he built some killer lego boats. It just felt-perfect.
Then we went and sorted out the garage junk at the old house and helped Jess move the couches... Her broken leg isn't holding her back one whit-despite the bone scan and probable plate removal!-she just bought herself a dandelion yellow Mustang to replace her wrecked subaru.
That brilliant tantalizing moon
pouring it's wild fullmoon radiance through my blinds to stripe my naked skin...
Not even melatonin will help me sleep tonight.
Oh, feel the blood tingling, caressed by moonlit madness, hips rock and surge of themselves, feeling, wanting-more than any moon can bring me.
To slip between the fabric of the universe and claim my brideprice.
Stand tall, proud before my tribe. Wreathed in all the glory of my magic but clad only in silverset sapphires and pure moonlight, as the men fight to earn their place at my side.
I take their measure with stern eyes and a fierce, willful, willing heart.
I know who I am and what I'm worth. I know my duty to my tribe and I know also the dictates of my own wild heart.
It will not be easy, this joining, for I am stronger in spirit than most of these boys, but it will be-
September 27, 2004
The intermittency of life
Really like this passage from Anne Morrow's 'Gift from the Sea':
"The life of the spirit," said Saint-Exupery, "the veritable life, is intermittent and only the life of the mind is constant... spirit... alternates between total vision and total blindness. Here is a man, for example, who loves his farm-but there are moments when he sees it only as a collection of unrelated objects. Here is a man who loves his wife-but there are moments when he sees in love nothing but burdens, hindrances, constraints. Here is a man who loves music-but there are moments when it cannot reach him.
The 'veritable life' of our emotions and our relationships also is intermittent. When you love someone you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. and yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror at its ebb. we are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity: when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity-in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern. The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even.
Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what it was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now. For relationships too, must be like islands. One must accept them for what they are here and now, within their limits-islands, surrounded and interrupted by the sea, continually visited and abandoned by the tides. One must accept the security of the winged life, of ebb and flow, of intermittency.
Amen, Anne, brave words. May they echo in my spirit throughout my life.
And thanks, Jess, for loaning me your mamas book!
September 26, 2004
hell hath no fury like a bitter ol' lady!
I kinda wondered why the neighborhood was so wary of her, she seemed an odd, paranoid old bird, but now I see what they were trying to tell me.
Sheesh! I was painting my lightning dakini purple, with my friend Lydia-who, by the way, is a truly amazing artist, when Ms Riot Fence from across the street decided to pay us a vituperative visit-crikey, can the ol' thang release some venom when she gets all het up about something.
That something happened to be my housemates cat, on her property-although how anything could get by her fence and cameras, I know not! Man did she blast us a good one all about how folks should keep their animals to themselves and she hates cats and cats should be kept indoors....
I told her it was my housemates cat and my housemate was in China, she kept on yelling, so I said goodnight and shut the door. I could hear her muttering all the way back to her flagflyin' house.
She regularly patrols the streets too, inspecting everyones places and cars. What a way to live! Poor old woman! It's gotta be hell to be a being so full of hate and viciousness. Rebecca, my housemate, says she even hates her house and often spends the night at the hospital where she works rather than go home.
I wonder how she got so miswired?
September 24, 2004
so much for sleep!
My housemate just got back from her month in China and man, is she amped!
So many treasures in her little suitcase, all wrapped up in pretty woven silk brocade bags and beautiful boxes.
Awesome jade sculptured items and jewelry and a long tibetan silk scarf with the eight auspicious symbols embroidered on it gifted her by her buddhist doctor teacher. She went to learn Teenwa, a form of chinese massage-yeah, she's a massage therapist too!
There's these smooth black massage tools made out of horn, all carefully tucked into red velvet in a green embroidered box. Everything seems so intricate and precious, even the money is pretty.
And the tea, oh my gosh, we're swimming in jasmine pearls!
Can't wait to see her pics. She said she even visited a Kali shrine.
Boy, are the cats happy to see her again. They were pretty freaked with all the moving in and Kaya smelling furniture and stuff.
good n tired
gawd, I'm beat.
Three shifts in the last few days... Prolly eight hours or so of massage... Not to mention several hairyscary driving lessons and a trip to IKEA(guaranteed to drive sane folks mad and mad folks absolutely stark raving looney-but the meatballs are tasty).
It's been pretty cool so far, working my new job. Really like getting up and hopping one short bus(just enough time for morning meditation in the fog on the way in)to work... And it's been a good stretch of my legs walking home(so sunny and pretty today and holyshit there's a gigantic-we're talking glacialmountainsize boulder in my hood, just sitting there in someones front yard-strange to see something so wild and sacred in the middle of Wedgewoodian suburbia) Was that a long enough parentheticalization? Can you tell I'm whacked?
Other pluses about my new job: really warm friendly people and hey, massage is just a really nice thing to do for people. High customer satisfaction, lots of grateful thanks... Rockin' heat lamps above the tables-sometimes I just lay myself down inbetween clients and soak up the orange glow for a while. It's kinda surreal and scintillating, bright golden orange warmness that turns everything and everyone pretty shades of roseypinkish.
I love being able to take someones achy body into my nice, big, strong, skillful hands and sweetly ease them into a blissed out state of healing. Or really dig in with my boney elbows and knobbly fists and make a difference to someone whose muscles are all tied up in knots. It's good having a job that really benefits folks and makes them feel good at the same time, I'd hate to be a dentist!
Now I just need to get one myself-man am I sooooooooore!
Otay, time to crawl off to bed, wonder if I can keep my eyes open long enough to see what sort of trouble Grania, She-King of the High Seas is getting into?
September 22, 2004
Still as a block of ice, she lay upon the cold metal surface and listened.
The faint scrabbling noises were increasing, becoming louder and more numerous in their gibbering, scratching, searching rattle. She didn't move, not a muscle of her long thin body even so much as twitched, lying naked and exposed, starkly white against the dull pewter grey of the table.
She knew they were coming, knew the terror of it, feared the horrid wrenching pain to come... And the inexorable necessity of it kept her nailed in place. There was no other way, the sacrifice must be made and it must be willing.
The hateful gruntings and scrabblings drew nearer. She kept her eyes closed as the demons entered the room, sought out the table, scrambling up it like crabs, claws screeching harshly against the metal.
She could keep from seeing them, but not from hearing the nasty, gloating, gibbering of their voices and the horrid click and squeal of their claws drawing nearer to her flesh.
Fear rang in her, exploded in a burst of adrenaline that howled in her head and limbs to FLEE! But she forced herself to remain still, hardly even flinching as pain bit into her side with the questing, cruel-clawed fingers of the first of the creatures.
They swarmed up her, scratching and shrieking triumphantly at their preys complete aquiescence. The suffocating terror of it made her eyes fly open at last and she sucked in a gasp of horror. Foul beasts they were, like hideously disfigured babboons, with great slimey fangs and grasping, dagger-sharp fingers they mounted her, tore at her, violently violating her vulnerable flesh.
She couldn't help it, couldn't keep the brave promises she had made to herself, she began to writhe as they grabbed her, so many dreadful hands and mouths accosting her everywhere, her long tender thighs, her smooth flat belly, her soft breasts, grabbed and squeezed and pierced and bloodied. She screamed and struggled, weeping with fear and rage, but they were hellishly strong and too many of them held her arms and legs, pulling and pulling, spreading her wide and helpless on the table.
The largest of them mounted her chest and she couldn't turn away, her head was held ridged by demonic fists wrapped in her long, long hair. She looked up at him and was struck dumb by the sheer force of the malevolent lust in his bloodred eyes. She thought he would rape her, for she could feel the hard length of it pressing into her belly, but his lust was not for that and she shuddered as his intention came to her in a flash of dreadful agony. She surged away with all her might and almost freed a hand to strike at them but it was no use. They had her and she had no choice, the sacrifice was inevitable.
His hands, so large and almost human, but for the cruel talons at their tips moved from crushing her breasts to the center of her chest. Her stomach lurched as she saw them dig into the small indentations between her ribs, piercing the skin in a welter of blood and pain. But his eyes never left her face and she was caught, fascinated by the intense, unwavering enjoyment, the hot pleasure in them as he watched her, heaving, racked with uncontrollable spasms of massive, excruciating terror and... Pain? Why didn't it hurt more? Why wasn't she fainting, dying?
She heard the ghastly, popping, crunching sound of cartilage breaking apart, yielding to his powerful hands. Wrenching, he tore her ribs upwards and snapped them, reaching into the fount of blood, groping, and then, with a dreadful wet slurping, tugging, pulling, she felt him pull her heart up out of her chest and he held it before her tormented, astonished eyes for a moment.
The room was silent, save for the plopping and spurting of rich red heartblood onto her gaping chest. All the gibbering and slobbering had ceased abruptly, every eyeball in the room stared in silent fascination at the glistening, pumping organ in his gorey hands.
Everything seemed translucent, both sharply clear, delineated in every nauseating detail and also indistinct, impossible to focus on. Her senses pounded in her head with frantic urgency, but nothing seemed to move, time was still, or just inching along in momentous, tiny fragments of itself.
The demon king slowly, deliberately raised her dripping heart in a gesture that seemed absurd and familiar, as though he was making a toast to her good health. Then he brought it down to his lips, his questing tongue slipping out between wicked, long fangs, tasting it. He devoured it in great careful bites, chewing with great relish and satisfaction as she lay quivering and receding on the table.
His terrifying visage came closer and closer, growing larger, but dimmer in her reeling, fading consciousness until all she had left was an impression of blood smeared fangs and then, nothing.
Zanne surfaced out of sleep suddenly, with a pounding heart. She struggled with consciousness, disoriented to find herself on the floor by her bed, her back pressed up against her metal filing cabinet.
She was slick with sweat. What a nightmare! Even now, she felt the pulsating fear of it throbbing in her body.
She pushed up and sat on the edge of her bed, feeling hollow, spaced out, freaky and very very strange.
She couldn't shake the feeling that something was vastly different, something important, even precious, was gone, destroyed and that it could never be replaced... Everything felt distant and distorted and wrong and utterly... New?
She shook her head and got up, pulling off her sweat soaked nightshirt and donning a robe. She filled a pot with water and bark for tea, put it on the stove, made herself a mental note NOT to forget it this time and went to her computer.
after all, when a demon ate your heart, what else was there to do but blog about it?
Strictly for the Birds
My friend Beth Yockey and her dad Ross just came out with their awesome new book: 'Strictly for the Birds'.
It's an animalian allegory about the folly of the No Child left Behind act. It's brilliant, hilarious and well, the cover illustration is superb!
heehee. I drawed it myself.
Seriously folks, check it out, buy it, tell your friends... It rocks!
September 21, 2004
Well, Grau, I'm not sure exactly how it works, but it sounds awfully cool.
It's a kind of clay that you can sculpt and fire, and somehow the clay part burns out and the finished piece is 99% silver!
So I should be able to make jewelry! Can you see it? Little silver booby goddess pendants galore?
I'm excited! I'll fill in the details for ya when I take the class.
Oh and remind me to write about my wild Portland night with Holly last weekend, it rocked my sox off, but it's a long post and I'm beat.
I'm off to crawl into bed with a book about shepirates for the nite.
How many ADD'd people does it take to screw in a light bulb?
"Wanna ride a bike?"
Courtesy of my friend Jess H, who never fails to trip me out and cheer me up when I talk to her on the phone.
Love that girl.... Poor thing broke her leg and crashed her car(unrelated incidents) and was still busy drinking champagne and making chocolate chip cookies when I last talked to her-at least I think it was her-this drunken gay talkshow host personality kept breaking in... But that's half the fun of talking to her-there's always more of her than meets the eye and you never know what kind of mood will take her or where you will end up, although there will usually be hordes of large drooling mens there, and tequila.
Last time we were together we ended up dancing naked in front of the mirror after trying on all kinds of sexyass clothes, like the slinky white lace negligee that she was going to wear to my wedding-OH MY GODDESS! It's a good thing I didn't get married after all, because she'd've knocked y'all out with all that yummy breastliness.
What a girl.
I'm taking her to her doc for a bone scan on monday.
September 15, 2004
Signed up for some classes today.
All starting in October. I'm taking a thirteen week deep tissue massage class. It's supposed to be awesome, with chi gong introes to each class. It should really improve my massage by leaps and bounds.
Photoshop-yay! Been wanting to garner some skills there for a while.
And last, but perhaps coolest of all-silverclay! It's the coolest-clay that fires to 99% silver. I will be able to sculpt jewelry!
Totally looking forward to that.
My first day at the new job.
Took longer than I thought to walk there-almost an hour, nice walk though.
Three massages, cool people-clients and fellow practitioners.
I gave an excited, jittery bridegroom a massage. He dozed off under the heat lamps and my hands... It was a good massage, in fact he told me it was the best one he'd ever had! That was nice to hear.
They had a party afterwards, to say goodbye to some folks who are leaving the place. It was rather serendipitous, gave me a nice way to say hiya, on my first day at the job.
They seem like real sweet people. I hope I can just chill and fit in, nice and easy and mellowlike. I still feel kind of...threadbare? Not all here, I guess. It feels like people can see that about me, that I'm sundered like in this book I'm reading to Sam, 'The Subtle Knife'(it's the second book in Phillip Pullmans trilogy and just as rivetting as the first)-the characters have daemons, who are animals, but also are their souls and beloved companions. The evil Mrs Coulter has found a way to sever people from their daemons, it doesn't kill them, just leaves them sundered, heartless... It's an amazingly good read-Sam and I have been on the edge of our seats(figuratively, of course, really we are usually snuggled in bed) throughout the gripping tale with it's courageous child protagonists going up against religious zealots and arcane magic, it gets pretty deep at times, but never ceases to entertain, amuse and inspire. I'm surprised Sam likes it so much, some of the heroic death scenes have even choked me up a few times.
Took the bus home, the Ave is kinda scarey at night yo, for a single girl, anyway. Lots of wierdodruggedfreakylookingyellingcreepyenergy stuff going on. Don't like that much.
all moved in
Many thanks to my stout team of helpers-Ben, Brett and Nate for doing an awesome job of loading all my bulky crap in the uhaul and hauling it to my new abode without breaking a thing!
You guys totally rock!
So many blessings too, to my wonderful mother, Blackbird. She has so stood by me, picked up my broken pieces, put together my scattered wits, searched for places, moved load after load of stuff, babysat when I was too tired and overwrought to cope with the kidlet, driven me everywhere, given me oodles of healing reiki... Thank you so much mamabird!
Sam is happily putting his room together and stomping boxes flat for me-boy is he industrious when crunching things is involved... Heehee. What a little smasher.
I still have to go clean up the ol' place and sort out my garage/studio stuff, sell my big kiln....
But it's good to be unpacking, to be setting up my new home.
Home is important to me, it's been terribly draining to be inbetween.
This is a good place.
September 07, 2004
I got it, I got it, I GOT IT!!!
Holy shit, I got the job!
Can you see my triumphant victory dance?
I guess those four interviews(three massages) finally convinced them.
Whoop, whoop, whoop! Just a teensy bit excited, I guess... I think it's going to be a nice place to work, n they do the marketing, n I know several folks who work there and... Oh my god, income! What the heck am I going to do with myself?
and hallejulah! No more hooking up rides to get waythefrigginghellouttomercerisland to go to the JCC!
Got a home, got a job, what else was there?
Oh yeah.... Gotta work on that drivers license.
September 04, 2004
parking n packing
and listening to Meredith Brooks' 'Blurring the Edges'-she's my new fave. I've been shaking my ass to this album for a few weeks now and it still does it for me. I'm gonna be bummin' when I have to return it to the library.
Krista came by to give me a parallel parking lesson. We started by taking a load of sculptures over to my new place, mostly 'cause I wanted to show it to her. It just so happened that there was a nice big spot inbetween my new roomies cute red truck and another car...
I parked, again and again and again and again...................
Between REAL cars-Yehaw! No more sawhorses for this drivin' girl.
Then we did roundabouts-it was fun.
Now I'm back to packing.
Well, you get the idea.
Nate and I raided all the local liquor stores for boxes. Thanks Nato-you rock!
Man, I'm beat. Can't wait to be all moved in and on the UNpacking kick.
September 01, 2004
my high school yearbook predicted
that I'd be living in a garrett in Guatemala drawing pornographic pictures for a living-I guess I was kind of famous for my nude women in art class-all the jocks loved to tease me about them.
Well, I just drew a vagina, for a legitimate client-this one's not likely to turn anyone on yo, as she has a baby beginning to pop out of her!
I also drew a woman receiving anesthesia and a c section today. Hey, it's paid work...
The next series should be more fun-the babies trip through the birth canal.
'k, think I'm gonna go curl up in bed 'n' read me some fantasy.
oooh pretty city
Just got back from Sequim.
So beautiful to ride the night ferry into downtown, gliding over the dark water towards the bright lights of the city center.
Holly and Tobias are sweet, they totally treated me, wouldn't let me pay for the ferryride or anything, bought me lunch at the Bayside Cafe in Poulsbo(I had no idea Poulsbo was so cool-in a very Skandihoovian way). We stuffed our faces on crabcakes and fries and admired the brocaded fancyass hotelstyle furnishings, the plush gold chairs rocked, but I think the crystal chandelier in the ladies restroom was a bit overkill.
I had a Greyhound, and the waitress musta made me a strong one 'cause I was reeling afterwards and almost fell asleep on the way to the Lavendar farm.
Hmmm....I can feel the vodka pounding on my temples, trying to get out, as I type-I'd better go down a glass o' water.
There, that's a bit better... Where was I?
Oh yeah, reeling. And feeling sorry for myself, heading into a blustery, chilly winter with no warmfurryboy to snuggle me, and watching Holly and Tobias smooch and bicker goodnaturedly. WAAAAAAH!
Luckily, my bladder told me to stop with the weepies and go pee, so I set off to ramble amongst the brambles... Except there too many too prickly brambles and so I walked up to the well-totempoled information center and used their facilities.
It was a good day.
I moved my first load of boxes into my new home, too.