I will really watch how it unfolds
how refracted white is stretched into colored light
each moment an accordion of layered life
multitudes of sizes
shades, scents, horizons
I will come to court you first
pawn my rings for songs
and spend it all on this love
I will let you just Be
(that beautiful spark)
that burns me brighter
and grows the world wider
I will lick the sweetness from my bare hands and skin
ask for forgiveness (not permission)
let every breath have a mission
I will walk these magic hours
under celestial showers
confetti still in my hair
red worn from my lips
from taking bites not sips
I will lean too far
let my toes and feet dangle
into the great raging stream
that teeming, mysterious dream
I’ll let it pull me in
and pull me under
my post constructed selves
absorbed by the salt and swells
lighting up each of these golden cells
like a trillion glittering hearts of hope
tearing down, building up
in an endless symphony of creation.
The imagery and sounds of this December full moon invocation:
I was on a hill near where I live. A little girl with blonde hair appeared and led me to a white horse, and pointed the direction I should travel. She then shrunk down and turned into a mushroom on the side of the path we were on. I climbed up on the horse bareback, and it grew wings and we were flying over the rolling hills. The horse was wild and powerful. We reached the top of a hill with a wooden cross on it. An old crone appeared there. She looked ancient, weathered skin, coarse silver hair, earthly, other-worldly, almost scary, like a ghost. Hunched over and wearing a hood, covered in dirt and weeds, like a root or a tree trunk. I had a feeling she was not of the living world, or not usually in human form. I asked for guidance. She placed some silver coins in my hand and said: “Plant The Seeds.” She spoke almost sternly, impatiently. I at first didn’t like the answer she gave me, I didn’t like the symbol of money, and wasn’t sure what it meant. I asked again and the answer was the same, she implored: “Plant The Seeds.” I accepted the coins. I curled up naked in a dug out hole in the mountain to sleep, blending in with the natural world, long grass swirling and waving around me. I was somehow woven up into a cocoon of white silken threads, but strong like a spider’s web, and shot into the atmosphere, high above those hills, the roads, the houses — until I was orbiting earth, and could see everyone below, including myself: alive, searching, human, loving. On that hill searching for answers. There was such a vibrancy and aliveness to the drama on earth. But in my orbiting embryo I was in a dreamlike, all knowing state. I was both attached to my human self but from the perspective of this other state of floating bliss and non attachment. On the edge of space there was only this peaceful silence, all confusion and noise was distant, faint, gone. There was silence, and then there was this:
July 27th, my dad’s birthday. Alvar would have been 68 today. I had a dream about him 13 years ago, shortly after he died: he was driving in an old blue convertible with the top down on a long stretch of highway, wind in his wavy blonde hair. He was free, at peace. I’d like to think that adventurous spirit of his is still here, helping me to fearlessly live my own adventure. Reminding me to appreciate each precious day I am given on this earth as another chance to keep growing, creating, learning — to be alive, awake, and experience the great depths (and many forms) of love.
Thankful for all the April birthday love….I wished for world peace (or was it world domination?) I am a pretty lucky gal to have so many super neat people in my life. Here’s to another spin around the sun!
The infamous Break-Up Bangs, otherwise known as the “Make-Me-Look-Like-Stevie-Nicks-Circa-1977” Hair Cut. (taken Feb 2012) Update: Bangs almost grown out, heart almost healed. New songs are ready to get their wings to fly.
I was born 36 years ago today in a little white farmhouse in New Paltz, New York. 1:07 am, 3 siblings asleep down the hall, ducks and chickens asleep outside in the cool April spring morning. I was going to be named Bryce or Brio if I was a boy. But instead I was named Brindl.
Birthdays for me have become this day to take stock of my life. My personal state of the union. Where I have been, where I am, and where I am going. I had a ritual for years of taking the ferry into San Fransisco and wandering around by myself with a journal and a camera. This year I am home writing and cleaning and listening to old songs I have written. In hindsight I can always see how there is a rhyme and reason to everything; a perfect unfolding to the events that have shaped my heart and my life. I wish in those hard moments of resistance to change and what fees like such crushing disappointment I could remember all the while things are falling into place as they should.
4 years ago on my birthday I wrote this song, its working title was “Birthday Song” but later got changed to “Love’s Great Fan.”
The last line is: “I’ll remember this as love’s great plan, if you remember me as love’s great fan.” This is my birthday wish. To want what I have rather than what I want and to trust I am living Love’s great plan….
“Love’s Great Fan” April 13, 2008, CD release of “Acoustic Heart” at Peri’s in Fairfax, CA with the wonderful Joey Midnight playing guitar.
i was born in the north part of New York state
smile on my face and a brand new slate
the name that was given was made for living all out
there were three before me and then one more
she loved that man liked she loved them all
but if all you needed was love to keep it
then why do people get up and leave it?
wasn’t long before we left that place
to California’s warm embrace
for milder seasons and all the reasons she gave
all the parties all the pictures all the burned out birthday wishes
but all that’s left now is forgiveness
on my way to learning higher
to educate my heart and now
i understand that sometimes how
love can turn you inside out
when he left in such a hurry the ending to his short lived story
and even though I don’t know why
i let it be his sweetest goodbye
when I’m old and tired and gray
same smile on my face but a different day
i’ll remember this as love’s great plan
if you remember me as love’s great fan