brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): This would be a good week to celebrate failure -- to laugh about the comic horror stories of your past defeats, to gain a new appreciation for the prickly lessons you learned, and to let go of any regret, shame, or anger you might still be lugging around. I'd even recommend that you and your friends stage a Brag About Your Failures party. Try to outdo each other as you render in ignominious detail the things that went wrong, the mistakes you made, and the people who let you down. I think you'll be amazed at how effectively this will dissolve the karma left over from those misadventures -- and help free you from their ghostly clutches.


first of all, apologies for my total and complete lack of literary motivation this last week. exhaustion and stress just hit me like a mack truck and i've been peeling myself off the pavement ever since. however, memorial day gave me a surprise three-day weekend, and believe me, i've been utilizing it to the fullest of my ability.

of course, the above statement would only make *ds* and *ks* laugh, as they spent a considerable amount of time monday trying to teach me to relax. it's a case of point of view and scale, i think. my definition of "relax" is their definition of "uptight," while their definition of "relax" is my definition of "laziness" as far as it applies to me. i can't stand doing nothing.

as far as my previous post, it was originally an email to *ws*, whom i've known for eons, it seems. at least as long as li'l *c*'s lifetime, anyway. but he wrote me back to tell me that i'm the most together, strongest person he's known. part of me wants to downplay the compliment, but another part of me is kind of staggered by it, too. there's an eighteen-year difference between us, and he's saying that in all that time he's never met anyone stronger? more together?

perhaps i'm a little too hard on myself, if that's the case. his compliment is saying quite a bit. i simply know exactly what i want and focus on it. i wanted a close, loving family, and look what i have now: adopted parents who love me, siblings who stand by me, a great-and-getting-greater relationship with the bio-dad, a few close friends that are my light and joy. i have the perfect family. now that that's squared away, i've shifted my focus to finding my Funky groovemate. and i will find him soon. i know it.

there's simply no time, i think, to focus on the past in all its warped wretchedness. there were also some fantabulous times in there, too. *rj* texted me the other day with a pipe dream about getting the "old school" crowd from our choir together at disneyland. yeah, while we had some good times, i wouldn't want to see any of them again (except for one or two exceptions). and i definitely wouldn't want to go back to SoCal to do it, either. every trip i've taken back down to cali has made me physically sick for weeks afterward. literally.

this tells me something.

but no, too busy, too happy, too productive to be dwelling on the monsters from my past that i've slain. people said i indulged my monsters too much, lamented and played the victim. what they didn't realize was the power of descent into the underworld, a woman's psychic need for catharsis being so drastically different from a man's psychic need to rise up and conquer. what for men is the dark path, the path which robert bly literally compares with Darth Vader ("dark father") is what is necessary for a woman's psyche to come out whole on the other side. remember persephone, who was not kidnapped by some Big Bad but kidnapped herself.

i went down a long time ago, and fed and fed and fed my monsters until they ate themselves to death. there were a few dregs i had to shake off, and *m*'s poison had to be completely flushed out of my system. i still shudder when i look back in retrospect and see just how thoroughly he had infected me.

now i can laugh at myself a bit. i can recognize the unhealthiness in others and stay clear of it. i can be selective and only choose the company of those who treasure and stimulate my Trinity of Self: mind, heart, and soul.

i can't wait. this weekend, finally feeling a bit rested and clearer-headed, i'm promising myself a heavy-duty juicer after bills get paid. there's dinner at the parents' tomorrow, which always feeds my soul and fills my fridge with leftovers. then again, leftovers feed my soul, too. sleeping in feeds my soul. living with my wonderful siblings, petting my affectionate kitties, feeds my soul. it gets me centered, flushes out my system, and makes me healthy and able to receive the multitudinous blessings the universe conspires to throw at me daily. it makes me able to truly laugh, which has the power to break all curses...even those left over from an ignominious past.

i don't think i'll hold a BAYF party, but only because the laughing soul should be shaking things up, turning things upside down and inside out to find the hilarity in every moment. the minute you catch yourself taking yourself too seriously, getting yourself stressed out or worked up, is the minute you need to stuff marshmallows in your mouth and play Chubby Bunny. it's the minute you need to play Pop Goes the Weasel with the Jiggy Snake.

it's the minute you need to leave dollar bills tucked beneath people's windshield wipers. it's the minute you need to replace all your boring, ball-point pens with Funky pens that light up when you use them. it's the minute you need to claim a signature color (hint: mine's PINK!!!) that just says, "HEY! it's ME! aren't i just fan-funking-tabulous?!!?!"

it's the minute you need to say good-bye to the inner flaming narcissist as you strip naked and run barefoot over yards and yards of bubble wrap.

last year was the Year of Secrets, the last chapter of my persephonic journey. now i wear the dark crown of the underworld and it's time to turn my self to bigger and better things, like gazing into the maw of happiness. this is the Year of the Delena, and i'm a pomegranate priestess of the Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail, baby!

what's that word again?

confused (adj.)

1. chaotic; jumbled
2. being unable to think with clarity or act with understanding and intelligence
3. lacking logical order or sense
4. what the male of the species is
5. the state in which delena finds herself whenever dealing with the male of the species


you know what i find most frustrating about being delena? simply this: men within a decade of my age are too immature and mentally dull to keep up with me. the upside? it lets me know i am nose and tail above the crowd, so far above the status quo that i see in color while the unwashed masses see in black and white. the downside? considering a man even as young as 35 is too old for me as far as my dad's concerned, my intelligence and maturity condemn me to a solitary existence.

this, in a word, sucks.

i read something once upon a time that compared women like me to the lucious, perfect, tasty fruit at the very top of a very tall tree. it wasn't so much that men didn't prefer that gorgeous fruit, so much as the simple fact it was so hard to reach. so they would pick the fruit closer to the ground and easier within reach. this, however, had a twofold negative result: the men were okay with their fruit, but not satisfied or content; and the fruit at the very top of the tree wondered what the fuck was wrong with them that they could be so wonderful, yet be withering on the branch.

i've been told --simply within the month of may-- that 1.) i am unattainable and "too much" to keep, 2.) someone couldn't get past just trying to get me into bed and keeping me there, and 3.) that i'm "just not" what someone else was looking for. i think the third statement was the most fair, honestly. but, dispensing with the "they're just stupid not to appreciate you" sort of opinion, what the absolute fuck is wrong here? is it me? where are the chivalrous, intelligent, mature, open-minded men with backbones born in the late 70's? i can't be so rare that i'm unique. i just can't.

this would be undermining my self-confidence if i wasn't possessed of my naïve faith in fairytale love.

who needs a list of "must haves/can't stands" when simply being close to my age, mature enough to keep up with me, intelligent enough to challenge me, and a chivalrous knight-errant at heart is a tall enough order?

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): I'm issuing a too-much-of-a-good-thing warning. Soaking up too much pleasure could dilute the value of your bliss. Expressing too much personal power could scare away valuable allies who are competent but not entirely confident. Pushing too hard on behalf of your creative pragmatism could subtly undermine the labor of love you've worked so hard on. Therefore, Capricorn, please accept my invitation to enjoy a period of rest and assimilation. You can return later for another round of pure intensity.


you know what's funny about this is that i was thinking of this very thing on sunday evening as i was driving to my parents' for dinner. i realized that sometimes iGoddess can sound like nothing so much as a psalm to the glory of the delena. not that there's anything wrong with singing my praises. if i don't toot my own horn, then who will?

of course, my horn sounds amazingly like a glen miller big brass band, but that's okay, too. *grin*

but anyway, i thought to myself, "y'know, delena, not everyone likes to read about how great delena's life is all the time. i mean, yes, it's wonderful you're so happy, but perhaps we should tone it down a bit? or perhaps explore other areas and things you've been thinking about?"

"you know something," i said to myself, "you're absolutely right."

i just find it amazing that, instead of merely marveling at how my life is sincerely echoing freewill astrology and miming life according to the televisionary oracle, now i just have to marvel that i'm actually channeling the ecstatic pronoiac bliss of brezsny mere days before he sends his thoughts directly into my e-mailbox.

and so, i send my r.s.v.p. to mr. brezsny's invitation to enjoy a period of rest and assimilation. in fact, i employed the art of moving meditation and accepted yet another invitation; this time it was *ks*'s invitation to begin a project i've been wanting to undertake for the past few years. my former mother-in-law gave me a coffee table and two end tables back when big *c* and i were young kids just starting out. they were beautiful pieces and i loved them. they'd been handed down to her when she was a starry-eyed young bride, and she was passing them down to me.

as i'd been through countless moves over the years, with countless roomates and countless opportunities for things to happen to my lovely furniture, needless to say they've accumulated their fair share of scuffs, stains, and other things. so i'm stripping, sanding, re-staining, and varnishing them into a renaissance of beauty and maple elegance. it will be labor of dedication and love, and fifty years from now i'll look upon them and remember this summer project, the work and energy i put into them. i'll put my feet up on the table, which will sit in the iGoddess hatchling's house, and she and i can chat over chai about the day she'll give the tables to one of her children some time down the line.

so i will rest, and regroup, and assimilate those other things i've been thinking about. and in the meantime i'll continue this round of the dating game, enjoy my work, and revel in the magic of watching these fine wooden pieces come alive beneath my loving hands...

"to serve all, but love only one"

sometimes i wonder where chivalry has gone, and i lament i shall never find it again. this is the modern age, i know, of capitalism, consumerism, women holding more of the spending power and making up the majority percentage of marketing brackets. women demand what they want, speak up in the board room, and are more likely to kick some mugger's ass with her Tai Bo kickboxing than scream for help. women are bitches and it's a compliment. women go for what they want and are queens of their lives.

and It Was Good.

me, however? while not of an older generation, i have an older spirit and cherish the old code. some things, then, remain confusing to me. the women's movement of the 70's was a wonderful breakthrough in the concept of equality and freedom for all individuals. i know we have a ways to go (e.g. same-sex marriage), but it was a fantastic start.

however, somewhere along the way, we lost sight of the original goal of the movement: freedom of choice.

in magic, the most powerful act a witch can perform is to change her mind. thought is power, i've said this before. our thoughts shape our realities. but as a girl growing up, it was driven into me that i would be independent, able to take care of myself in every capacity, and be at the mercy of no man. my education was my ticket to this freedom. i would make no choice that relinquished an iota of this freedom, this power.

i was no child of the barrio, to whom a scholarship or military position was a way out of the projects. i lived in the middle class of the early 80's, went to a private school, and had as my role-models some very talented and educated adults who taught me to think and perform my gifts and skills to the best of my ability. i was given piano and voice lessons to hone my inherited musical talents. i was blessed with a very sharp mind, and had a genius for the liberal arts and communication. "armed" with these "powerful weapons," as my bio-dad would say, i would go very far in this world and make him proud. i would be a lawyer and champion causes for mi familia, or perhaps be a diva at the metropolitan opera house and bring glory to la familia.

all for la familia, and i would never want for anything. never would i dread my husband returning home, never would i be beaten and dragged around the house by my hair, unable to escape because my lack of education barred me from ever getting a decent job and thus couldn't support myself.

in this, my bio-dad was a success. i am an intelligent, self-sufficient woman able to make my own choices and support my own needs.

however, something was always lacking. i could see the subtle beauty in walking a step behind a man, the gentle protection in a man who spoke for a woman in public, the respect in helping a woman out of a car. true chivalry is more than holding a door open for a woman, or ordering for her when out at a restaurant. it's more than simply doing these things.

it is the understanding of why these things are done.

by the old code, a knight was a lady's champion, offering her protection in a world where she might come to harm. anyone with sense knew better than to molest a knight's lady, for he would pursue them to defend her honor. in this world of women's rights, license to carry a concealed weapon, and martial arts defense classes, it's been proven a thousand times over a woman is quite capable of protecting herself.

this is not the point.

men were made to protect and provide, to act, and to do. women were made to love and to nurture, to intuit, and to create. i believe this. women's energy blossoms to its fullest when it is creating and nurturing, loving and caring. (true, not all women are like this, but of course it's just understood i'm talking in generalities.) men's energy shines its strongest when they are protecting and providing for their homes, acting and doing. the balance of male and female energy comes when they act in synergy, addressing the balance of yin and yang, acting to the fullest in the ways nature made us strongest and enabling our partner to do the same. being women makes men better able to be men, and vice versa. and we love them for it.

i would love a man who could protect me, and provide for our home. if he loved the idea of my staying at home to raise our children and make our house a home, it would make me happiest. let him provide for our home, while i remained behind and built the foundation of that home. now, in this day of two-income families, i understand if that's not possible, and that's fine, too. i love my career and i am happy in it.

it's the mentality i cherish, the deep-seated respect for both genders, their roles, their strengths, and their weaknesses. in the old code, there was no room for selfish sexism, only an appreciation for and understanding of the sacred duty to support and foster the strengths of your opposite by living up to the full potential of your own gender. this way created synergy.

sexism came, and upset the balance.

feminism came to redress it, but in its wake left generations of girls who grew into women confused and feeling guilty if they wanted to choose anything other than the freedom to do everything yourself, be a bitch, and take what you want. that works in the corporate world, but it sorely fails to address the balance needed in a more intimate union. if i ever said i wanted to be a stay at home mom, i was met with a lot of apprehension, or outright disgust. when i said i was made to be One of Two, i had "you don't need a man to complete you!" thrown at me from so many angles it made my head spin and my heart hurt. when i said, "i want another baby," i got scoffed at and was told not to be a disgusting slave to the base animal drive to procreate. i was told to smash the goddamned biological clock already. i was asked if i'd thought things through, if i wasn't absolutely sure because, sheesh, i had so much more freedom in my single life!

i'm sure they meant well, but family and friends had been programmed by the women's movement whether they knew it or not, but had no inkling of the true goal: freedom of choice. how can it be said i am truly free to choose if no one will permit me to choose to reject the model of the Independent Woman of the New Millennium? of the Uber-Bitch? of the Corporate Dragon Lady who is just as comfortable in $500 prada heels as she is in combat boots? in my religion, barefoot and pregnant is a position of ultimate power and holiness, as i stand connected to the life within me and the life of the Mother beneath my very feet.

where is the man who will order for me in a restaurant, hold the door open for me, help me with my coat? where is the man who stands when i enter or leave a room because he understands the power i hold as a woman, and knows i grant him the same respect and show it in how i keep his home and raise our children? men have it in them to be knights-errant, to be noble and just, strong and respectful and deeply loving. women have it in them to be humble and surrendering, for to be humble is to have the ability to truly show gratitude for those tokens of affection men bring to us through virtue of their abilities, like opening a difficult pickle jar or retrieving the wine glasses on the top shelf that are too high to reach. to be surrendering is to relinquish the desire to control the outcome and every aspect of a relationship we can't control, anyway. to be surrendering is to accept him the way he is, and to appreciate his abilities and show gratitude for the ways he shows his love.

men know we can open the jar ourselves, but they do it for us because men do things, and they do to show their love.

men like women who are soft and delicate, who don't try to change him, who have a pretty smile, a beautiful heart, and a brilliant brain. women like to be and feel pretty, to have soft skin and painted toenails, to be liked for who we are, and to show how smart we are. they like us when we are exactly as we already like to be. why, then, is there such a battle between the sexes when there can be such glorious harmony?

the concept of courtly love took sex out of the equation, for often the knight's lady was in some way unattainable -- whether it be social status, distance, or some other factor. thus it became necessary for a lady and her knight to rise above lust and infatuation, and create some other foundation for their relationship. they had to learn to love, honor, and cherish one another.

and thus was the tapestry of the old code woven: love, honor, and charity.

"the motto of chivalry is also the motto of wisdom; to serve all, but love only one."
honore de balzac (1841)

monday morning check-in

i thought i would actually write a post this morning, but then i thought about this. i found a vid on myspace that was just too beautiful not to share and i thought, "we were here. this was our bangin' Funky party." then i remembered The Book of Genesis According to the Funk and realized this is The United Snakes of the Jiggy Funk! we're here, baby!



Crab Supernova Explosion



may the Funk be with you.

delena haiku

i wrote this just now for a friend of mine. i'm always saying that if i were an organic Amazon, hardcore rockin' lesbian, she would so totally be my wife by now. however, i am still quite the lover of men and, yes, may the jokes concerning my vegetarianism and heterosexuality abound. soybeans are another excellent source of protein, thanks...

but anyway, humor aside, i wanted to fill your hearts with warmth and share this haiku i wrote for her simply because she's such an inspiration to me. she's a close and very dear friend, and i absolutely adore her. it was in answer to her question, "why do i love you so damn much?"

like a hand mirror,
i reflect your gorgeous self
right back atcha, babe. =)

you are like the wind --
refreshing and uplifting.
laughter of the sky.

you are like the earth --
beautiful and majestic.
you know i speak truth.

you are like the sun --
golden in your happiness.
you shine, it warms me.

you are like the sky --
wise to the far horizon.
i look up to you.

you are like the sea --
deep darkness harbors untold
riches of your heart.

you are like sheree --
my close and dear, lovely friend...
closest to my soul.

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): During your entire life, you have maybe never been as free as you are now from the need to be rescued by some savior. You don't need anyone to rescue you from your own dark fantasies because, at least for the moment, your bright fantasies have rendered them obsolete. You don't need anyone to liberate you from oppression or enslavement, because you are fully empowered to do the job yourself. You don't even need anyone to deliver you from evil, since your recent hard work has made evil allergic to you.


well! what more is there to say, then?

...actually, there might be a few things. naturally, the first being "i must not rest upon my laurels." the second, perhaps, being that now the Year of Secrets is over and we're almost halfway through the Year of the Delena with its bigger, wilder, and more exciting challenges, perhaps it's time to change my eyes yet again to see not "challenges," persay, but "opportunities."

"adventures."

"blessings."

the universe is wildly in love with me and is daily conspiring to shower me with blessings. every day upon waking, a hundred things have already gone right for me, proof of the work of thousands of people in their tireless effort to make sure my day does begin well. i can flip on a switch, and electricity zooms through the wires to light up the room. i live in a temperature-controlled environment, my bare feet are massaged by soft carpet which is the result of people's labor to make and install it purely so that my feet can enjoy the feel of it. the sun is at the precise distance from earth to guarantee life upon our planet. i take a breath and am assured our atmosphere did not bleed off into the Void.

miracles of existence, and all of them there purely so i may enjoy them.

my legs work, my eyes see and my ears hear (albeit not very well, but they do). i might have scoliosis, but i walk upright without need of a brace. i have a car in working order which gets me to my job, which i adore. my hands work, able to perform such delicate and precise activities such as brushing my teeth, fixing my hair, crocheting an afghan, touching my family members to convey affection.

i am finally free of the old delena, and i have put on the chunky, pink platform shoes of Delena of the Funkywild. i emerged from the cocoon into wilder, freer, and more ecstatic versions of my Funky self. for the first time i truly feel the weight of the Old World has left my shoulders, and the shell of my former body is left far behind. i am the solidarity of the earth, with the depths of the ocean in my soul, and the wind in my hair. in my heart shines the sun; in my womb glows the moon. my true self is love.

there is only Love.

< /censored? >

the one law iGoddess has always had is, "no censorship -- ever." it has been my guiding light and support from the very first day i set foot in the blogosphere. blogs were still actually kinda new back then. and at first it was the only place i had in my life where i could be completely honest with some of the things that were going on.

sometimes, looking back on that lonely, confused, neglected new wife and mother that wrote her first entry and posted it online with all the trepidation and hope a castaway feels tossing that message in a bottle into the waves, all i can think is, "that poor girl." and when the memories of the Baseball Bat Incident resurfaced after fourteen years of utter burial, the response i received only boosted me up and supported my decision to maintain utter, brutal, and ugly honesty here.

it makes the beautiful things so much brighter...

sometimes i wonder what it is about the whole thing, y'know? i mean, i think i've gained a measure of respect in my little blogging iVillage. there's never judgement, no matter how stark my posts can be. perhaps that says something for getting to know someone online; there's always a measure of distance instead of being a real, solid person standing right before you and into whose eyes you may see the reality of the things mentioned in their blog. and to a point, that's true.

but i had a conversation with someone recently about how people are so busy maintaining their façades and it's the nitty-gritty of life behind the masks that make them real. well, i've made a good habit of being real up here, and working as hard as i can to make the difference between what's up here and what's in the flesh as small as possible. of course, what's up here is sometimes a bit freer with language and opinions, but there's also nothing i've said here that i haven't said in the presence of my family.

i think part of it comes down to vulnerability. long-time readers of iGoddess will find familiar my confused lament about how the unconditional love and acceptance i receive from my family is nonexistant in the wide world of relationships. then again, a small while ago i realized why this is. the first tenet of Witch is "personal responsibility," and if there is a situation or difficulty, we must understand our contribution before we can move towards harmony.

needless to say, mine was not a childhood (or young adulthood) in which vulnerability was encouraged. it was ravenously devoured. i began to hide it. the few times i've played card cames with people who were rather serious about the game have told me that while i might not be the best at cards (i freakin' suck at poker, i swear), i had the best poker face and no tells whatsoever. i've also been told that the only way to know when i'm actually truly, deeply upset is because i give nothing away. the deeper my distress, the calmer i get. my breathing is perfectly even, my face void of expression. these were my defenses against the pain of having my vulnerability exploited.

and yet, with my (adopted) family i am dynamic, soft, vulnerable, and open. there is free communication, respect, and wholehearted acceptance. this is something i thought was isolated to family and which i would never find elsewhere. however, i smashed the glass and hit the Big Red Button that said, "I Change My Mind."

i must also change my Self. when i declared my new aim --to enrich my life with a loving, committed relationship built upon radical intimacy and respect-- i knew i would have to change many things within myself. i have resolved to be more open to chances and opportunity; to be more vulnerable by revealing my thoughts and feelings more; by surrendering to the universe in order to live in the moment and accept what comes; by receiving what people offer me and knowing i am worthy of their affection as a shining being; by trusting; by letting go of fear and knowing i will be unconditionally loved by those worthy of my love.

do you know what i've found so far? *laughs* i'll tell you...

i've found the real me, buried so long ago she was believed lost forever. i've found the freedom to exercise my true nature, which is one of pure love.

a pox on all technology!

i promised pictures of the gorge the other day.

if i remember correctly, i'd also promised pictures (at least one) of me at the vampire ball.

so far, i've failed you miserably. but i swear, the great god BIOS --god of computers and all related modern technology-- hates me. fie, fie i say! a pox upon any- and everything that breaks simply because i'm in the room.

my camera decided to have some sort of grand mal seizure right before the trip. it won't stop flashing at me, takes pictures of absolutely nothing, tells me it's off when it's clearly on, and the list goes on. and the scanner doesn't work, so i can't even digitize the portraits taken of me at the ball.

and believe me, i looked damn hot. 80 bobby pins, ninety minutes in the salon chair, and my best "You Are So In For It" red lipstick with plenty of gloss for the perfect wet sheen, and i was the dark goddess of sultry deliciousness.

there must be pictures, damn it all to the ninth hell!

ah well. i shall find a way (don't i remember something about *mj* buying a new scanner recently? hmm...), and i shall endeavor to buy a new camera. preferably one without epilepsy.

and now i leave you with more delena haiku, inspired by my trip:

raining at the start,
i left the clouds behind me --
stepped into a dream.

enchanting colors,
sun to make me recall home.
i was smiling bright.

sunshine kissed my skin.
music thundered in the car.
wind laughed through my hair.

delena haiku

i'm off to the gorge --
me, the road, and the cam'ra...
possibilities!

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): It's an excellent time to make yourself more magnetic to blessings. You might want to experiment, therefore, with good luck charms or magic invocations -- anything that you imagine might attract benevolence into your life. How about the potion that is popular in South Africa right now? It's a concoction cooked up from ground-up vulture bones. Or maybe the kind of mystic jewelry I saw advertised in one of the tabloids, a necklace made of meteorite chunks? Both of those would pale in comparison, however, to the thing I consider the very best attractor of blessings. It's the sacred metaphorical talisman that Tom Waits recommends in his song "Get Behind the Mule": Always keep a diamond in your mind.


just as long as i can make it a pink diamond, mr. brezsny, i'm all for pinning my ear to the wisdom post and my eye to the line.

and so, having said that, i give unto you, Fans of Funk, my invocations and charms for attracting blessings:

while standing in a mud puddle and hugging myself, i dissolved a four-leaf clover on my tongue and visualized myself riding piggyback on my future mate.

i drew a picture of copulating hummingbirds on a dollar bill and taped it to a road sign on a street with a suggestive name.

then i stood on top of a mobile home wearing all red clothes, and hurled a chunk of stolen meteorite as far as i could while shouting out the name of my beloved -- whatever that may be...

then i built a blazing fire, stripped naked, smeared war paint on my body in the style of my native american ancestors, shook my snake tooth rattle and waved my mummified chicken foot over my head, hopped on one foot, and balanced a jello cake on my head.


...'kay, no, not really.


what i did do was forget all about trying to glom on to my perfect mate and instead decided to make myself into the perfect mate. this year, i wine and dine me and make me my perfect lover and mate.

whether i find anyone, i want to be my perfect mate, and it all comes down to two qualities: beauty, and truth!

i will then gather my kitty paraphernalia, in the great name of Bast, and infuse my glittering, pink-and-purple kitty necklace with all the phantasmagoric, divalicious wonderfulness that is Delena of the FunkyWild in hopes of acquiring the grace and poise of the house kitty, the self-confidence of the lion, and the sultry languor of the panther.

oh yes. it will be mine!

recently i have come to realize the almost-futile, holy-grail-doomed quest that is seeking perfection within myself. it will remain ever elusive and just plain lame to continue chasing such an ephemeral dream. and so, in the spirit of the japanese artful discipline of wabi sabi, i have come to the realizion that i am perfect just the way i am, glorified in all my flaws --not because i revel in mediocrity, but because nature has infused me with the beauty of asymmetry, the poetry of curves and dark colors, and the wisdom of discernment that upholds my virtues all the higher because i possess such beauty in the midst of flaws.

i am not perfect. but i am perfect for someone. the perfection of perspective.

out there, Somewhere, is the beholder who shall gaze upon me and love me...for in their eyes i will be perfect, flaws and all.

the breathtaking and oft-praised pink diamond is a precious stone with imperfections which mar its color. and the flaw is glorified, even sought after...

sacred life sunday

my beloved kitten, Rumblestrut, whom i saved on snowy christmas
and introduced to the good life: catnip mousies, wholesome food,
clean water, warmth, luvins, a soft bed,
and an endless array of things to get into.

i had tried to get a pic of him napping on the kitty tree,
but of course he pouts because i killed the kitty zen.
delena the zen-slayer.
rumblestrut the guilt-tripper.

he helps me find my inner kitty...

what's that word again?

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