Meet me halfway
Current mood: inspired
Category: Travel and Places

There's this place I like to go to and watch the night unfold.  I especially love it when the moon is full and intimidating (in a non threatening way...more like a cosmic, brilliant sort of way).  I look up and reflect on the days and nights that have passed...and allow myself to open up to the whispers I hear that glide alongside the silence of the evening....and the stories come forth...offering a kiss of sadness or joy, rejection or acceptance, chaos or clarity...in an overwhelming journey of emotions that I embrace with no hesitation whatsoever...

I keep returning to this secret, hidden place.  Three separate times.  New faces, the fairies say.  I just smile and hope they won't be too mean or curious..

This last time they just watched.  We had sweets with us and they waited patiently for one of us to 'forget' some.  They were quite curious about this one.  They sensed the magic within his hands and followed us as we walked along the street...City Hall on our left, the obsidian water on our right.  The jasmine flowers hid a few faces and the lingering scent captured us for a moment while he picked a flower...stashing it away in his pocket...unbeknownst to us that one of the 'good neighbors' was hitching a ride, wanting a piece of our adventure...

Smokes and chocolate.  A 70's porn-like abode.  A circle of friends around a fire with the weekend's adventures tugging at our lips, laughter and giggling interspersed in-between the re-telling of stories...

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And I wake up to blue skies and the ocean waves in the distance.  A dream that was a dream, but wasn't a dream because it was soo real and was last night a dream, too?

I also forgot where I was, then the dream melted away and he was there.  Warm and comforting...with the beach in his hair, on his skin, in his bed...

And I felt the sun's kisses that morning, as I lay there in that blanket of warmth and sand.........not wanting to leave..........knowing that the impermanence of the moment would win and I begrudgingly accepted my defeat....

Currently listening : Grace By Jeff Buckley Release date: 1994-08-23

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Random
Current mood: adventurous
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

On top of a water tower

watching the world

askewed and anew

colliding together

and unraveling our ribbons

removing armor

unconsciously collecting

then the sun appeared

undaunted by its brilliance

no longer haunted by the past

embracing the colors of the morning

and the possibilities

it holds

whispering to the wind:

just this once

just this once

just this once

Currently listening : Post By Björk Release date: 1995-06-13

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Love in a pill...
Current mood: adored
Category: Romance and Relationships

This Is Your Brain on Ecstasy

MDMA really is like love in a pill.

Currently listening : Volta By Björk Release date: 2007-05-08

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From the Daily Om: When Pain Comes Our Way...
Current mood: groggy

When Pain Comes Our Way
Honoring All Experiences

Honoring the experiences we have in our lives is an invaluable way to communicate with life, our greatest teacher. We do this when we take time at night to say what we are thankful for about our day and also when we write in a journal. Both of these acts involve consciously acknowledging the events of our lives so that they deepen our relationship to our experiences. This is important because it brings us into closer connection with life, and with the moment. Only when we acknowledge what's happening to us can we truly benefit from life's teachings.

It is especially important when pain comes our way to honor the experience, because our natural tendency is to push it away and move past it as quickly as possible. We tend to want to brush it under the rug. Yet, if we don't, it reveals itself to be a great friend and teacher. As counterintuitive as it seems, we can honor pain by thanking it and by welcoming it into the space of our lives. We all know that often the more we resist something, the longer it persists. When we honor our pain, we do just the opposite of resisting it, and as a result, we create a world in which we can own the fullness of what life has to offer.

We can honor a painful experience by marking it in some way, bringing ourselves into a more conscious relationship with it. We might mark it by creating a work of art, performing a ritual, or undertaking some other significant act. Sometimes all we need to do is light a candle in honor of what we've gone through and what we've learned. No matter how small the gesture, it will be big enough to mark the ways in which our pain has transformed us, and to remind us to recognize and value all that comes our way in this life.

Currently listening : Juno By Original Soundtrack Release date: 2008-02-19

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Rewind
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Friends

Rewind

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Dancing with Melancholy
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Writing and Poetry

A Dance with Melancholy

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The rise of the Phoenix
Category: Art and Photography

I had a very interesting weekend.  For many reasons.  March 8th is a significant and momentous time for me.  On one end, it is the anniversary date of being sexually assaulted.  On the other end, it is International Women's Day.  And in-between...it's my friend, Jon's birthday.

What I decided to do (starting in 2007) was to do positive things on this date...instead of contemplating serious things or wallowing in the darkness of such a heinous and cowardly act...so last year was Scotland and this year...was a new tattoo.  Phoenix wings...to be exact....rising out of the original tribal design (that I got in 1999 when Bill passed away).

Tattoos are certainly not for everyone..my own personal reasons are reflective of my perception of life and art...they are for remembering...for the symbolism behind the physical representations...they remind me of who I am and who I was...they're stories, I guess...my stories....

Mark Cano from Tiger Rose Tattoo (in Pismo Beach) did this amazing (and brutal ;0) work.  This guy is insane (but in a good way).  He's full of integrity, intelligence and makes jokes about peanut butter when it's 3 in the morning while your chest is sore from his heavy hand under the needle. :0) (Yeah, thanks A LOT Mark!)

The work itself took about 5 hours.  I will be honest folks....this hurt.  A LOT!  I tried mantras.  I tried relaxing.  I tried focusing on other things.  Ahh, well.  None of it worked...

We (my friend Josh was with me the whole time) met up at the tattoo parlor around 8 pm.  Mark was working on a spider web for this girl who apparently was in the process of getting a divorce (her and I talked after her tattoo was finished).  There were about 5 or 6 girls on the other side getting little stars behind their ears.  They were cute...screeching and laughing the entire time.  I was in observation mode and going within..somewhat prepping for the pain... :0)

Around 9 pm, we walked to some Thai joint that Mark likes and had dinner.  At about 10pm, we headed back to the parlor and Mark started sketching.  By 11 pm he was done and I was laying on the table....

The buzz of the needle slowly approached my chest and I braced myself, anticipating the first break of skin...

We went for more of a japanese style than a traditional style.  I wanted to stray away from tribal because it represented part of my past.  A phoenix is about death and re-birth.  I wanted something that really represented this 'place' that I'm in right now...something that said visually: let go of the past, arise a new and embrace who you are now...

At about 4 am (repeat: five hours later), the upper part was complete.  There was no way I wanted him to continue working on the rest of the tattoo.  I decided I needed a second trip for that.

The colors came out really well.  And my personal favorite is the colors above the cherry blossoms.  Mark picked an interesting shade mixed with yellow and white to get that weird tinge that you see now.  I don't know why, but it reminds me of the Tibetan flag...

And the cherry blossoms....I'm not really a 'girly-girl' but I really liked the idea of the cherry blossoms.  It reminds me of that scene in The Last Samurai when Ken Watanabe's character whispers right before he dies,

                      "Perfect. They are all perfect."

Stay tuned for the rest of the progress...

:0) Lots of love...-Athena

Currently reading : The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom, A Toltec Wisdom Book By Don Miguel Ruiz Release date: 15 January, 2001

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Mes ami, ma famille...
Category: Friends

I've been doing alot of thinking these past few weeks about friendship...defining it and asking questions regarding what friendship means to me...who are my friends...and if I'm a good friend to others...

My friends are my family.  They are the individuals I turn to for emotional support, communication and love.  They do not define who I am but these important people have helped sculpt the person I am today.  It would be pure selfishness and ego if I thought it was a solo effort.

Early in life (as a young girl), I was taught the value of a good friend.  The kind of person who doesn't judge you or put you down, the kind of person who laughs and cries with you in joyous AND somber occasions...and the kind of person who's by your side when you're in need of it the most...

I admit that I've been so wrapped up in my need for 'balance' in my life that I forget the more important things.  It's not the amount of things or gifts that surmise what a 'true' friend is...nor is it the number of times you receive or make phone calls...and it's certainly not about the increments of time spent or how long you have known one another...

These examples are not the core of what establishes a friendship.  They are the pieces to the intricate puzzle that create (what one would hope) a lasting friendship that can withstand bumps and obstacles that life can manifest.  For me, it's the realization that what makes a good friendship is whether I'm a good friend first and foremost.  It's the desire and honesty to communicate my feelings...with love and compassion.  It's the awareness of my own actions and doing the challenging thing of looking myself in the mirror before passing judgement on others (and not being self righteous).  It is also in the midst of these reflections that perhaps others are doing these introspective mental exercises as well...in the hopes of better understanding not only themselves but others as well.

There is no price nor gesture nor summation of a word that can really define a true friend.  The best way that I can put it is the presence of love and connection that comes from the purity of acceptance...that YOU truly love yourself...knowing that YOU have the power to spread joy and love from within YOURSELF...and that to really begin that process is to look inward, to ask questions and to realize that to have true friends in your life is to start with being a true friend to yourself.

Currently listening : Spark/Do It Again/Cooling By Tori Amos Release date: 10 August, 1999

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For Forrest...
Category: Friends

This is part of a series of stories that will be featured in my next writing project titled: Witch's Brew. I'll be submitting some new 'memoirs' every now and again... so thanks for taking the time to read through

The Vortex...

666

I don't know if I believe in soul mates or true loves.  There's a part of me that wishes for a happily ever after and there's another part of me that says, "Yeah, right."

He was 15 and I was 16.  He was pale, had long blonde hair and the kindest eyes.  We gravitated towards each other like sunlight and the sea's first waves. 

He was the air to my fire.  I told him about trees and Tori Amos. 

He wanted to be my boyfriend, but I upgraded him.

I gave him specific instructions.  We were to meet on the 6^th month of the 6^th  day on the 6^th hour.  He would then ask me to be his soul mate.

My answer was unnecessary,

but it was yes all the same.

We had been hanging out at my friend's house and ended up laying down on the concrete of her driveway.  He told me about growing up and living on the streets.  How he met this woman who took him in and adopted him.  Then, he proceeded to tell me the true nature of their relationship and what transpired.  How he became a victim in this woman's cover-act of kindness.  How he was coerced into having sex with her, how he felt about it…and I kept silent and listened with my heart wrenching at the sound of his voice…with each detail tearing my insides raw.

I was so appalled at this that I had few words to say.  I loved him, but how and what do I do next?  There is no excuse for what I did then.  I broke up with him on his 16^th birthday.  My cruel act would never leave me.  My guilt became entrenched in the bitterness I felt towards the world.  All he wanted to do was love me and I pushed him away.  I ran away when he needed me the most.

I didn't deserve his love.  My penance was the emptiness and self-loathing I would carry for many years to come.

Currently listening : Disintegration By The Cure Release date: 01 May, 1989

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Messages...
Current mood: thankful
Category: Life

A new story...

Messages..

"My dog died."

That's the message I receive late one night.  I don't know how, but I could see my friend's face, pale and sad…his emotions hidden within the folds of his skin, the beard that covers half his face which is hiding a frown and the weariness I see inside the shadows of his green eyes.

I sense a restlessness and close my eyes, sending a silent message of comfort to my mourning friend.

He loves running and that's what he's doing the next time I see him.

I'm on one of my beach walks with my friend, MB.  I recognize him immediately and he stops to chat with us.

"Come give me a sweaty hug," I say with a grin.

He puts his arms around me and then wipes his forehead on the side of my face.

"Eww!"

He laughs and I step back laughing as well.  I like it when the darkness is at bay.  Now I understand a bit more why he enjoys running so much.  There's the endorphin high at the end, of course, but there's a freedom and release to it.  It's meditative.  Your mind becomes clear and you're aware of the entire connection.  To yourself.  To the Earth.  To your heartbeat.

He's gone, running down the pathway.  MB and I head towards the Pier.  In the midst of our conversation, I could feel the remnants of a story that's waiting to be told.  A gift.

On my way home, I see him running down Poli.  This time, I see a dog running next to him.  He's black and white with lots of fur…and he's got this happy dog grin that's contagious.

I turn down Chestnut and head home.  I photograph the image inside my head like a Polaroid picture and store it away for me…and for him.

We get together later that week for our regular movie night.  Not a date, not a nonchalant, superficial visit.  Just two people who enjoy each other's company with an under current of another story not ready to make its debut.

"Do you remember how MB and I saw you at the beach?"  I ask him after the credits for 'Goonies' fills the screen.

"Yeah.  That was unexpected."

I nod and say, "You were by yourself, but later as I was driving home, I saw you on Poli running with a dog."

"A dog?  What did it look like?" he asked with a careful tone.

I pull up the Polaroid picture in my mind and describe to him with as much detail as I can recall.

He's quiet for what seems like forever and sighs.  He's looking past me, out the window into the still night that holds his thoughts.  I'm looking at him, waiting for him to reply.

"I wonder…" he starts to say.

"You know, now that I think about it.  That dog looked like a younger version of Ned."

I remember going with him to his parent's house.  Ned, his dog, was so ecstatic to see him.  He was the only source of lightness and color in a monochromatic environment.

"But, it can't be…" he whispers.

"Maybe I was just seeing things.  I don't know.  Could've been some stray."  I interject.

"No.  It wasn't a stray.  The only dog that I would take running with me was Ned."

"Well, maybe he wanted to run with you one more time…"

"Or maybe he'll be with you every time you run…and maybe you'll get to see him again…"

"If you pay attention..."

I smile at him when I say this and put my head on his shoulder.  I can see he's still looking out the window and we stay like that for hours…just listening to the night and the faint sounds of paws running on concrete.

Currently listening : The Beatles (The White Album) By The Beatles Release date: 25 October, 1990

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