Monday, September 29, 2008

Cheers

I'm tired of being
Everything
I don't want to be
Anything
Martyr Goddess
Diva Superman
Glorified Nigger
Friend and Foe
I don't want to be
Raging like Dylan
in the dark
Plathesque
I'm tired of being
Miss Vida Standing
Chelsea's death
Mother's Failure
Grandma's pride
Fuck it
I.
Am.
Tired.
I want to shut the fuck up
and go sit down somewhere
I want to be
not nice
not pretty
not dazed
not me
Hell in a handbasket
on a midnight train to Georgia
I'm tired of being
a thousand me's
for a thousand you's
Fuck.
It.
(And fuck you, too)

(c) 2008 by M.Chadwick

Yes. You.

Blessed Be and Be Gone

I am God
of my universe
I am Earth Mother
to a thousand children
of love and darkness
I am Kali
to your bullshit
I am Aprodite
to your northward
pointing
lust
I am the Green Man
to fields of creativity
I dance in the Dark
I howl at the Moon
I scream at the Make Believe
all the while you
there
hiding
behind your warm fuzziness
like a mold
a fungus
a moss
covering your own life
suffocating
condemning mine
which you haven't the right
to consider
and to this i simply say
Blessed.
Be.
and
Be.
Gone.

© 2008 by M.Chadwick

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Farewell to Summer

Wow. What a summer it has been. At the beginning of the season, we were still living over at the other house. The dogs were still alive and well. K was working at the new place. All seemed well. And then the bottom fell out. Lost the house. Lost the dogs. Lost the job. We were literally living on the street. Scraping together whatever coin we could beg, steal or borrow. Staying nights at an all night diner. Staying days at the public library. What a fucking summer. Then we got this place. K has a job that though she doesn't like, she at least goes to on a (somewhat) regular basis. Magic Gumbo has the prospects of taking off (finally). Rent is cheap. Bills are low. Money is coming in. I still need to find a "real job" as I don't make enough to really flick a booger at and would like some form of real security. But perhaps it is all coming together.

I am looking to move back home to New Orleans either in January or June of next year. Will just depend on the finances. I think once I am able to do that I will feel much more complete. While I am not complaining about being here - it's a roof over my head - with Roscoe and the Boys gone, I am so lost that I don't really know what to do with myself. Working at home with them around was not unnerving like it is now. They have been gone three and a half months now, and I still catch myself talking to them - or turning around to tell them something - and, of course, they are not here. So I look forward to seeing New Orleans again. Home. More to do. More work to work. More things to keep myself occupied.

For the first time in a long time, with the changing of Seasons, I am actually looking forward to what the future has in store. I think I have paid my dues. Done my penance. Survived my suffering.

It's time to look to the light and embrace it. Grow. Live. Laugh. And who knows, perhaps even love.

Here's to the future. Cheers!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Equinox: The Sun from Solstice to Solstice


CLICK PHOTO FOR LARGER IMAGE

Explanation: Today is an equinox, a date when day and night are equal. Tomorrow, and every day until the next equinox, the night will be longer than the day in Earth's northern hemisphere, and the day will be longer than the night in Earth's southern hemisphere. An equinox occurs midway between the two solstices, when the days and nights are the least equal. The picture is a composite of hourly images taken of the Sun above Bursa, Turkey on key days from solstice to equinox to solstice. The bottom Sun band was taken during the winter solstice in 2007 December, when the Sun could not rise very high in the sky nor stay above the horizon very long. This lack of Sun caused winter. The top Sun band was taken during the summer solstice in 2008 June, when the Sun rose highest in the sky and stayed above the horizon for more than 12 hours. This abundance of Sun caused summer. The middle band was taken during the Vernal Equinox in 2008 March, but it is the same sun band that Earthlings will see today, the day of the Autumnal Equinox.

[Borrowed from: Astronomy Picture of the Day]

New Discovery: Gabrielle Roth

Just discovered the music of Gabrielle Roth this morning. Talk about a wonderful Mabon blessing! So, so beautiful. Here's a blurb from her myspace page: "I am an artist. This skin I wear stretches across centuries and reaches its hand out to everyone who has ever yearned for a real Self, something holy and precious, fluid and fierce, something original to give away for no reason at all. My art is living art crafted in the dojo of the body, the zendo of the mind, rooted in the downbeat of the soul and fed by the spirit that lives in the groove.

I give them maps that move.

Inspiring movement, honoring the shape of things, following cycles, tracking patterns, falling in love with space, these are my obsessions.

Mine is the art of the people turning themselves inside out, transforming their suffering into art, their art into awareness and their awareness into action. And, turning all of this into theater, into pieces made from scratch, in the moment only to disappear back into the dance. My art is that of a theater director on the edge of a whirling stage."

And another from her blog: "The Creation of The 5Rhythms

As the creator, architect, the 5Rhythms were born in my dialogue with the great emptiness I found in my dance when I moved to the edge of myself as I knew her and leapt without knowing where I was going or why.

They came to me in the night, in the sweat of dreams, on the dance floor as a path that never stopped moving, in the peak of an orgasm, in the prayer of childbirth, they came to me raw in their silence, they came to me in waves that washed over me and emptied me and filled me with their aliveness, their presence, their spirit. I was wounded, my friends were wounded, my culture was wounded, the family was fragmenting, war kept rolling across the world, rock n roll was rising, blasting, psyches were shattering and all I could do was dance.

But then my dance became a language that liberated the body from all its shackles, my dance became a prayer for freedom, it became a way to self-realization, an art form for the disenchanted and disenfranchised to reclaim themselves, to resurrect and reinvent – to take themselves back from the nameless, hopeless, fringes of freaky times.

We were looking for a beat, something solid and rooted where we could take refuge and begin to explore the fluidity of being alive, to investigate what it means to be a human being and why so many of us are stuck, numb, spaced-out, tense, inert- unable to stand up or sit down or scramble the screens that reflect our collective insanity 24/7."

You can check out her music on her MySpace profile or visit her page on the Raven Recordings website. It will definitely be worth your while!

Ashe'!

Mabon


MABON (Autumn Equinox)
Northern Hemisphere - 21st September
Southern Hemisphere - 21st March

Day and night are equal in length. Draw on our roots in the darkness, yet revel in the kiss of summer breeze and sun. Face the darkness of the autumn and winter ahead and so face mysteries. The Goddess has surprises for us in the wintry months ahead that will surpass our highest hopes. This is a time for wistful reflection on the transience of life - a time of rest after labour. Balance of light and dark, completion of harvest in preparation for Samhain.

"Brightest Blessings and Warmest Wishes for this Mabon"

Monday, September 15, 2008

Last



I felt your faith splatter
across my face
stinging my eyes
and I knew the lies
were true
another had invaded
your escapades
teaching you new
ways to swish a hip
bump and grind
let it slide
you failed miserably
at the one test
you had to pass
monogamy
so while you sleep
with a razor blade's kiss
i remove the offense
rendering you faithful
making it impossible
for you to fail me again

© 2009/Micael C. Chadwick

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Today's Reading


The Page of Cups is Cupid bringing you opportunities for love. He delivers real chances to experience romance, deep feelings and the inner life - the wonders of the Cups suit. In readings, this Page suggest that an opening may appear that stirs your emotions, pulls at your heartstrings or brings you great joy. When you see such a chance, act on it!

The Page of Cups can also stand for a child or young-at-heart adult whose interactions with you involve emotional needs, moodiness, love, intimacy or spirituality. Sometimes the Page of Cups implies that your entire situation is suffused with the spirit of love and emotion. At such times, feel free to express and enjoy your feelings with light-hearted abandon.

Friday, September 12, 2008

I am not going to drink today.


And I didn't drink yesterday, either. This is how I am going to have to do it, I think. Just one day - one step - at a time. If I go beyond that, I get overwhelmed. I end up talking myself into the 'fuck it' mentality of "well I am gonna fuck it up and drink anyway so I might as well drink now - so fuck it."

It's such a difficult process. I am embarrassed about being an alcoholic, but not enough so that I stop drinking. I just drink alone. I also go to great lengths to drink alone so that no one knows. I time my drinking to when I know no one will bother (or catch) me and drink as much as I possibly can before I have to be around anyone. What a way to live.

Getting off the drugs (coke, heroin, meth) was so much easier than this. It's too easy to get alcohol. The store is two blocks away - and a 40 is only two bucks.

But I am not going to drink today.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Today's Reading


The traditional hermit is a crusty, bearded character who has withdrawn from the company of men to live a life of seclusion and hardship. Card 9 supports this understanding. The Hermit represents the desire to turn away from the getting and spending of society to focus on the inner world. He seeks answers within and knows that they will come only with quiet and solitude.

There comes a point in life when we begin to question the obvious. We sense that there is a deeper reality and begin to search for it. This is mainly a solitary quest because answers do not lie in the external world, but in ourselves. The hermit on Card 9 reminds us of Diogenes, the Greek ascetic who is said to have gone out with a lantern in hand to search for an honest man. Diogenes is a symbol of the search for truth that the Hermit hopes to uncover by stripping away all diversions.

In readings, the Hermit often suggests a need for time alone - a period of reflection when distractions are limited. In times of action and high energy, he stands for the still center that must be created for balance. He can also indicate that withdrawal or retreat is advised for the moment. In addition, the Hermit can represent seeking of all kinds, especially for deeper understanding or the truth of a situation. "Seek, and ye shall find," we have been told, and so the Hermit stands for guidance as well. We can receive help from wise teachers, and, in turn, help others as we progress.

Tumbling Down



Gee, but it's hard
When one lowers one's guard to the vultures

Now, me I regard it
A torturous hardship that smolders

Like a peppermint eaten away
Will I fight? Will I swagger, or sway?

Tee hee, milady
She cries like a baby
Scold us

See her tumbling down

Heil to the monkey
We're having a funky reunion

Wasted and sunk
He can only have Sunday communion

He's got nicotine stains in his eyes
He's got nothing to protect but his pride

Oh smothered a kiss
Or be drowned in blissful confusion

See her tumbling down

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Today's Reading


The Six of Pentacles is a difficult card to describe because it falls in the shadowy area between the lack of the Five of Pentacles and the affluence of the Ten of Pentacles. These two cards represent the extremes of not having and having. The Six of Pentacles covers the huge middle ground where it is not clear exactly who has what.

On this card, a well-to-do gentleman is tossing a few coins to a beggar while another supplicant waits to the side. The giver holds the scales of justice as if claiming the right to decide who deserves blessings and who does not. In this picture we see both sides: what it means to give and to receive, to dominate and to submit, to be on top and to be on the bottom. It seems clear who has and who hasn't, but is it? Life is not that simple, and how quickly fortunes change.

In readings, the Six of Pentacles asks you to look very deeply into the whole issue of what having really means both materially (resources) and immaterially (knowledge, power, love). You may see yourself on one side or the other, but this card asks you to reconsider. Think of the successful businessman who suddenly declares bankruptcy. The tyrannical invalid who dominates through weakness. The teacher who learns from her students. The parent who controls by giving money.

The keywords for the Six of Pentacles include both the have and have not sides of each meaning. Sometimes this card is a clear sign one way or the other. You will get the gift you want. You will have to defer to another. In all cases, though, you should question the obvious and go deeper. Why are you in the situation you're in, and where is it leading? Who is really in charge? What's really going on?

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Because I feel a bit like....

...a "Ballerina Out of Control" these days.



by The Ocean Blue

Today's Reading


The Five of Swords is about self-interest. Society tells us to think of others, yet we resist. How we can ignore our own concerns and still survive? This dilemma comes from our definition of self. If we view our self as our personality/body, our interests become those that relate to that self. Do I have enough to eat? Am I happy? Do I have all I want?

We may expand our concern to those we love, but, then, how can we stop there? We are connected to everyone in the long run. In truth, our self is the world. What we do to that world, we do to ourselves. This understanding is so basic, but so infuriatingly easy to forget day-to-day.

In readings, the Five of Swords can mean that you or someone else is forgetting this larger view of self. You are defining your interests too narrowly. If you try to get ahead in isolation, your actions will come back to haunt you later, one way or the other.

Sometimes this card implies a need to put your own interests first. If you are being abused or taken advantage of, you must get free. If you are worn out by demands, take care of yourself. If it is your turn, step forward and claim your due. Just be aware that if you hurt others in the process, your victory will not feel complete.

The Five of Swords also represents hostility - from a cross word to warfare. When the cords that bind us are broken, we experience dis-cord. This card can signify dishonors that are fairly open. Cheats, lies, tricks, deceits, even crimes. You may be on the receiving end, or be the perpetrator. Either way, hold to a larger view of who you are. Find the solution that is best for everyone...including yourself.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Po' Folk's Hoe Cakes

There are several different versions of this tried and true recipe. This one is the one I am most familiar with (and am munching on right now) because we grew up dirt, dirt poor and this one is cheap and easy to make - and with Mama's homemade Apple Butter - it's heaven. The reason they are called Hoe Cakes is because way back in the day, the workers in the field would actually use the blade of their hoe held over the fire as a griddle to fry up these little cakes.

Hence, Hoe Cakes:

* 3 cups all-purpose flour
* 4 teaspoons baking powder
* 1 teaspoon salt
* 2 tablespoons shortening
* Enough cold water to make a soft, but firm dough;3/4 to 1 cup liquid

Combine flour, baking powder and salt. Add shortening and cut through with knife until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

Add liquid to make a dough that is soft but not sticky. If it is too sticky, just add a little flour, two tablespoons at a time, and knead until mixture is the right consistency.

Heat enough fat (any type: lard, bacon fat, vegetable oil, etc.) to cover the bottom of a large skillet.

Form dough into a ball, divide into 4 equal parts. Form each part into a round ball, then flatten with your hands to form a round, flat bread.

Place in hot fat and fry until bottom side is golden brown, then turn and cook in the same manner until the other side is light brown and the cake has puffed. Repeat for each piece of dough until all are done. Serve with butter and/or jam, jelly, or homemade Apple Butter!

Makes 8 (1/2 round) servings.

Go make yourself some. You won't regret it - other than they are terribly addicting and full of carbs!!! My kinda food!

Today's Reading


The man on the Nine of Cups reminds me of "the cat who ate the canary." Now, a canary is a pet strictly off limits to hungry felines. Any cat who manages to catch one is going to feel pretty smug about it. This is the feeling tone of the Nine of Cups - pure indulgence and self-satisfaction.

At the physical level, the NIne of Cups is a sign of delight in all the senses. Sights, sounds, tastes, feelings. This card encourages you to seek out pleasure and enjoy your body in every way. You can commune with the natural world as well - the body of Mother Earth. She, too, delights in sharing her abundance.

At the personal level, the Nine of Cups indicates contentment with the way things are. Notice how the man is seated confidently with his arms folded and a smile on his face. He has everything he wants and couldn't be happier about it. "See all my cups!" he seems to say. "Aren't they great?"

Sometimes it's wonderful to sit back and revel in the knowledge that all's right with the world. But a word of caution. You may be tempted to indulge yourself at the cost of someone else (like our mischievous cat!). This may feel great at the time, but sooner or later the feathers around your mouth will be discovered, and regret will set in. Pursuit of pleasure without regard to consequences is never satisfying in the long run.

In many tarot traditions, the Nine of Cups is known as the Wish Card. It shows your wish will come true. A wonderful prospect, but remember your fairy tale lessons. You must be sure you know what you really want and accept the responsibilities that go with your wish. If that is the case, then enjoy your good fortune!

Laugh

I came across the AIG commercial version of this video on kenneth in the (212) this morning and it was so what I needed this morning.



We all need to laugh like that.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

In the End





[Written by Scott Matthew
As performed by Justin Bond
From the film Shortbus]

we all bear the scars
yes, we all feign a laugh
we all sigh in the dark
get cut off before we start

and as your first act begins
you realize they're all waiting
for a fall, for a flaw, for the end

and there's a past stained with tears
could you talk to quiet my fears
could you pull me aside
just to acknowledge that i've tried

as your last breath begins
contently take it in
cause we all get it in
the end

and as your last breath begins
you find your demon's your best friend
and we all get it in
the end

This was my normal.


Insanity runs in my family. Not the locked-in-a-padded cell with Thorazine insane (though some would, no doubt, debate that would help), but more of the barking mad variety. When I was young I was a bit of a wild child, and therefore not often allowed to visit my friends homes, so I never realized that all mothers were not like mine. I did not know that not all mothers smoked and drank and danced around the house wailing to Janis Joplin at the top of their lungs until they just fell down and went to sleep in the foyer. I thought that was how things were done. Mimi (as my mother called herself - she was too young to be a mother and wanted no reminders of it) would often take her "cigarettes" and guitar and her black labeled bottle and climb up onto the roof at night after Trey and I had gone to bed and sing sad songs to the moon about lost loves at Scarborough Faire and dreaming of a world in peace... It became our lullaby as we laid there in the dark. It was normal. But the times, as they say, they were a'changing.

Elvis died. Then came John's assassination. Then Trey's father, Paul, punched a hole in the wall and left. I don't really remember him much from before he left, but I certainly remember him leaving. It was a three ring event in a psycho circus. He and Mimi were fighting (as usual) but before he could storm out, Mimi proceeded to chunk her old friend Jack at Paul's head, cascading an arc of amber colored courage all over Paul, the tacky orange sofa, and most of the wall. He pitched the bottle back at her, smashing it into the fireplace and sending glittering, stinking shards of glass everywhere. Mimi found this terribly funny and was rolling in the floor screaming in hysterical laughter. Paul was not nearly as amused. He picked Mimi up by her throat and reared back to knock her block off. At the last second, he dropped her to the floor and put his fist through the wall, all the way to the kitchen. That hole stayed in the wall until the day we moved out of that house years and years later; Paul never came back. Not for his clothes, his prized record collection, or even his daughter - nothing. It was the end to end all ends. Mimi became a whole new creature after that. And not in a good way.

I am not sure if she felt broken, defeated, or just fed up. I do know that after that, nothing was the same. We saw her less and less. When we did see her, sobriety was even more of a rarity. She took a job at some factory on the edge of town working nights and hired an evil, antiquated babysitter named Mizz Iris. Mizz Iris was having none of it from Trey and I. She reminded me of the witch from Hansel and Gretel or Snow White. Mom would come home in the mornings and end her day with a drink - or twenty. By lunch time she was out cold for the day. Mizz Iris would park her rather large and haggard ass in front of the monsterous television to watch The Price is Right and her hours of soaps. We were not allowed to speak, move, or even breathe too loudly. This was when my love for the great outdoors was born. I would have much rather endured a sunburn's sting than risk the wrath of whatever lurked at home. We escaped into fields of weeds that became magical kingdoms in which we both reigned as rulers with wild abandon. We played in the muddy creek behind the house becoming what looked like the spawn of Swamp Thing. We tore through town on our tiny bicycles until our muscles ached and we barely had the strength to walk our bikes back home. We flew through the air on ancient swing sets, letting go at the highest possible peak and launching ourselves into outer space - until we landed with a thud with a mouthful of dirt and grass. We created our own personal Terabithia. No one seemed to miss us; no one seemed to notice. Which was fine with us. In those weeds, and waters, and wilderness, we were free. Free from the screaming, and fighting, and chaos that was our normal. We reveled in our survivorship, never realizing what it was that we were doing at the time. It was not until many years later, after Trey died, that I realized the depth of the sanctuary we created for ourselves - and how much I still carry that with me today. I can't bear to be holed up indoors. I need sun, and grass, and swings, and mud, and the wind in my face or I run the risk of going as mad as the hatter that is my mother. The outdoors of my childhood is what I imagine Heaven to be like, and where I picture Trey at every time I think of her. I can't wait to get back there.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Tarnished Damnation

I just watched the movie Tarnation tonight by Jonathan Caouette and it sent my entire world upside backwards and on its ear. The idea of the film is a "documentary" following his life from a young age with his schizophrenic (?) mother and rather odd grandparents.... Sound familiar, thus far? You have no idea. It was almost unnerving to me at times because it was as though someone had crept into my room, rifled through my locked boxes and turned my journal into a film - with changes made for artist license, of course. It reminded me of the (strange) child I was - dreaming of one day being on Broadway in Hair... Closest I got was playing Frank is RHPS at the Waverly and getting beaned in the head with an airbourne roll of toilet paper - but hey, who can complain. Rambling... He quotes The Exorcist. I look up, and on my bulletin board at eye-level is "In forgetting they were trying to remember." The last line of the book. He did some bizarre Marianne Faithful play (?) in high school - and any of you that know me well enough know that The Ballad of Lucy Jordan is on more than one of my burned CDs. Cocteau Twins. The Andy Warhol/Paul Morrissey films. A non-existent/absent father named Steve. Raised by grandparents. It was just odd how dead on so many little things were.

There was a scene where his mother was telling him how wonderful she was and that he didn't appreciate her and all I could here was my own mother telling me how she "was a good mother." I just could never figure out to whom this happened. It certainly wasn't me. Like I told a friend of mine earlier tonight, though, I really can't complain because had I not survived all that I have survived - the abuse - the rape - the drugs - my sister's death - more abuse... So on. Had I not made it through all that, I would not have the voices and visions and inspirations that give birth to my art. In the murderous death of my childhood, an artist was born out of the necessity to stay sane in the roar of it all. Chaos equalled creation. Hence my tattoo... But that is a whole other post...

It's odd that this movie came about when it did, too. I have just finished reading the entire Augusten Burroughs repertoire (yes, again) - which is similar in context except that his mother gave him away to her psychiatrist - and was perusing Crime Library - as I often do - and realized that not that different of circumstances happened to people like myself, Augusten, and now Jonathan that also happen to a myriad of serial killers and various other nutbags... It just makes one wonder WHAT the difference is that makes one person kill the neighbors cat and eat it and makes another person pick up a pen or a paint brush or a video camera and redesign the world in which he lives. Where is that line. If anyone should be hacking people up for shits and giggles, I doubt anyone would be the least bit surprised had I turned out as such. What is it that makes one person destroy and another create when they came from the same hellish upbringing.

I dunno - I don't know that I am making a whole lot of sense. I am still a little stunned by the film. The credits had run, finished and shut off entirely before I even realized I was just sitting there staring at the screen. It really was an utterly amazing piece of art. In context and in style. If you ever come across it, make it worth your while to see it. You won't be disappointed.

To be continued....