spring in the city..

Our house...


martin's garden...



Listening to Beats Antique, Anouar Brahem, Elvis Costello

last days in the bush

and back again...

In two weeks Beau and I move back to the city, a gorgeous big house to be shared by friends, close to everything including the creek. We will miss, the neighbours, the trees, the sunsets and the owls talking to each other all night long from opposite sides of the gully. But I won't be sad because this move is necessary and timely and because my city friend and I have become lovers. This beautiful man knows about bees and oils and plants and music from far away places. Things that can soften the edges of the city. We have been laughing,singing, playing with our children, remembering, talking about God,loving and marveling. Happy.

Our new house mates are lovely. A and her son J. A house full of light. A huge garden begging for chickens and a deck on which to drink wine as the nights become warmer. I can't say 'this is it'.My mind would sometimes like to know when we can finally 'dig in' but my heart is satisfied with this step. I've let go of a good deal so this move is lighter on many levels. Beau will be closer to his Dad. There will be an ease to the week's rhythm. We can get back on our bikes. Suddenly he can do so much - skate board,swim, ride his big bike.... His body is growing and he is discovering physical confidence. The size of his smile is equal in proportion to the wave of joy I feel when I watch him cross another threshold.

I am belly dancing, playing my guitar often, and thinking about seedlings and what I will bake in the new kitchen and how I will earn money in the city. I would like to run another choir and teach singing.

How is your spring starting out?

Listening to new Hope Sandoval -Through The Devil Softly, Bill Withers, Hamsa El Din and Feist.

beautiful photos

Elizabeth Perotin.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

one more....

..in honour of tonight's full moon.



What Should We Do about that Moon ?

A wine bottle fell from a wagon
And broke open in a field.

That night hundred beetles and all their cousins
Gathered

And did some serious binge drinking.

They even found some seed husks nearby
And began to play them like drums and whirl.
This made God very happy.

Then the 'night candle' rose into the sky
And one drunk creature, laying down his instrument
Said to his friend - for no apparent
Reason,

"What should we do about that moon?"

Seems to Hafiz
Most everyone has laid aside the music

Tackling such profoundly useless
Questions.


...and just because he's damn cute..



Listening to Bassnectar, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Gadgo Dilo

And just because we can NEVER have too much Hafiz....


I know the Way You Can Get

I know the way you can get
When you have not had a drink of Love:

Your face hardens,
Your sweet muscles cramp.
Children become concerned
About a strange look that appears in your eyes
Which even begins to worry your own mirror
And nose.

Squirrels and birds sense your sadness
And call an important conference in a tall tree.
They decide which secret code to chant
To help your mind and soul.

Even angels fear that brand of madness
That arrays itself against the world
And throws sharp stones and spears into
The innocent
And into one's self.

O I know the way you can get
If you have not been drinking Love:

You might rip apart
Every sentence your friends and teachers say,
Looking for hidden clauses.

You might weigh every word on a scale
Like a dead fish.

You might pull out a ruler to measure
From every angle in your darkness
The beautiful dimensions of a heart you once
Trusted.

I know the way you can get
If you have not had a drink from Love's
Hands.

That is why all the Great Ones speak of
The vital need
To keep remembering God,
So you will come to know and see Him
As being so Playful
And Wanting,
Just Wanting to help.

That is why Hafiz says:
Bring your cup near me.

For I am a Sweet Old Vagabond
With an Infinite Leaking Barrel
Of Light and Laughter and Truth
That the Beloved has tied to my back.

Dear one,
Indeed, please bring your heart near me.
For all I care about
Is quenching your thirst for freedom!

All a Sane man can ever care about
Is giving Love!

(if you know of such a man, CONTACT ME IMMEDIATELY!!!!)