A segment from the amazing street performance by the “Glissendo” troupe at a French art festival: “Lightning” by Philip Glass. Concept and technical design by Ulik (the mechanical clown).
A segment from the amazing street performance by the “Glissendo” troupe at a French art festival: “Lightning” by Philip Glass. Concept and technical design by Ulik (the mechanical clown).
There are a number of astrological “rules” for scheduling surgery and although I am not a professional astrologer, I know enough to seek out this knowledge and try to incorporate it into my treatment. Rules is in quotes because we don’t always get to choose the time or date, and because the most important factor is not related to astrology, but to the surgeon’s competence. That said, if you have the luxury to participate in the scheduling of your surgery, there are several things to look for, or plan around.
An unexpected part of the drama that is my cancer life (as opposed to my real life) is the realization that I need to go through a number of legal hoops to ensure that, if necessary, J. can speak on my behalf when I can’t. For example, when I am unconscious during the upcoming surgery.
The first page of the original Alice in Wonderland. Taken at the British Library in London, April 2007.
and a bonus one:
A few weeks ago, I had several encounters with Rabbit.
Although we live in a populated suburb, surrounded by warehouses and housing developments, there is a strong natural component that remains from the years when this was a fertile valley filled with farms. Of course there are the seagulls, crows, ducks, pigeons, and geese. Almost daily I see red-tailed hawks, for example. A Great Blue Heron lives in several ponds and lakes nearby, and in the spring we see many bunnies along the bike paths and walkways. Tiny little things, they go tharn at the sight of us until they can’t stand our nonstop approach and flee into the brush. I’m not talking about them, I’m talking about Rabbit.
Mostly. There’s some other potential drama/news in my life that I’m not going to share until it resolves itself, and that is (literally) depressing me.
I’m on the verge of a cold, which means I am staying home from work to get over rather than give into.
I’m making progress on completing my will and medical directive. (Which aren’t *hard* to, but are complicated by my intellectual assets. And no, I don’t mean my brain 🙂 thanks for asking.) There’s a longer post coming, but the short version would be: what do I do with the Tradition I created, my magickal writings, my ritual implements, and my websites full of data? Particularly since my life partner isn’t pagan.
So I am doing well. Then a friend had the following video posted as a comment. And I bawled.
(carefully saved until he’s gone direct once again.)
I’m thinking about mercury retrograde (MR) and how the 3 weeks it lasts can be full of missed and tangled communications — that’s the obvious connection. But it is also a time when connections get examined, and a lot of information gets uncovered.
You don’t get good compost unless you turn the pile every once in awhile. MR often turns the pile and a lot of things crawl out and more things get exposed to oxygen, to life.
I like making my own gifts. Not because I’m cheap, but because I feel that something made is inherently more special than that which is mass-produced. Each summer I make a variety of food gifts — canned or preserved nummies that have been very well received by others.
This week, I made Blueberry-Lemon Jam. (Recipe is at the end.)
A picture I took in July 2003. Its a Native American bundle my mother (an incredibly gifted artist) re-created using found materials.
It’s a little after 5pm on Friday evening, and I’m watching a definitely-waxing moon climb into a clear blue sky above the vaguely pyramidically building that almost-but-not-quite blocks m view of Mt. Rainier.
My, that’s a long sentence.