Monday, November 19, 2012


I figured out what I adore about her and why each novel is awaited and savored from me.  She is so real and genuine as a writer, things I love about people too.  She writes about big topics and doesn't dress them up.  She doesn't give you a packaged ending all tidy, she lets it out, the nitty gritty of how life goes.  How some things you don't get to chose and some you do.  That we are all human, living here, and it isn't pretty sometimes but resiliency abounds and in the face of great pressure and sadness there is also so much beauty.  

Stunning.  Tickets to see this are very expensive but Angangueo is on the LIST! 

Sunday, November 18, 2012

From inside our cozy warm house, the kind of night that you get to hear the wind blow through the stove pipe.  Something that I read and couldn't pass up. 

an excerpt, Nina Simons, from Moonrise: "The Power of Women Leading from the Heart."

This is no time for small talk
This is a time for myth making
This is a time for epic poetry
This is a time to tell the tales of life, love, and resilience 
that will become our compass for the days ahead.
A time to remember the grace and celebrate the magic
that infuses and informs this world.
We live on the only planet where an eclipse is possible.
Doesn't that seem like instructions to you?
To awaken from this self-induced slumber, to emerge from this 
     contracted isolation,
we've got to drink down the darkness and dive to our deepest 
Peel off our fancy garments of presumed protection,
to land at the bottom, naked, cold, and bruised, with nowhere 
   to go but up.
Time we shed the venom that got us here, the twisted rage of
   blame and shame,
And choose instead the anger that rises, pure and clean, up through our feet,
That draws us to our full height, knowing what must be done,
clear about what has to stop, igniting us to stand for what we 
How else can we begin the healing?
The web that holds our world together is tattered,
And all our hopes and dreams are suspended in it.
No sutures, butterfly closures, or Elmer's glue can fix it.
Only our tears can begin to mend its torn strands, 
tears and giving ourselves to feeling, loving, and losing.
Mourning how much is dying, mourning so that the light can return.
The revolution must have dancing; women know this.
The music will light our hearts with fire,
the stories will bathe our dreams in honey and fill our bellies with stars. 

Sunday, November 11, 2012


November 11th- the last harvest from the garden.  Good night garden, have a good winter rest....

Monday, November 5, 2012

As I just finished voting I can't help but wonder on the night before Election Day,
What if we all just thought about the world we want to live in, how we want to treat each other and the planet,  what type of world we want to nurture.
What if we all just thought about the best possible outcomes, not the drama, the worst, the scariest, but the best, regardless of political party.  What could happen?
I continue to believe in the best in people and to have the utmost hope for our country.
I do feel a little like hiking or being outside tomorrow, not watching the drama that is sure to ensue on both sides.  I'm off to bury my nose in some good ole' escapist fiction. aahhhhh...

Sunday, November 4, 2012

My heart feels conflicted
My mind with more energy than my body
I need to move... to be outside to clear the space
To laugh, a bit more light, and some quiet