in the deep

"But can you love me in the deep? In the dark? In the thick of it?

Can you love me when I drink from the wrong bottle and slip through the crack in the floorboard?

Can you love me when I’m bigger than you, when my presence blazes like the sun does, when it hurts to look directly at me?

Can you love me then too?

Can you love me under the starry sky, shaved and smooth, my skin like liquid moonlight?

Can you love me when I am howling and furry, standing on my haunches, my lower lip stained with the blood of my last kill?

When I call down the lightning, when the sidewalks are singed by the soles of my feet, can you still love me then?

What happens when I freeze the land, and cause the dirt to harden over all the pomegranate seeds we’ve planted?

Will you trust that Spring will return?

Will you still believe me when I tell you I will become a raging river, and spill myself upon your dreams and call them to the surface of your life?

Can you trust me, even though you cannot tame me?

Can you love me, even though I am all that you fear and admire?

Will you fear my shifting shape?

Does it frighten you, when my eyes flash like your camera does?

Do you fear they will capture your soul?

Are you afraid to step into me?

The meat-eating plants and flowers armed with poisonous darts are not in my jungle to stop you from coming. Not you.

So do not worry. They belong to me, and I have invited you here.

Stay to the path revealed in the moonlight and arrive safely to the hut of Baba Yaga: the wild old wise one… she will not lead you astray if you are pure of heart.

You cannot be with the wild one if you fear the rumbling of the ground, the roar of a cascading river, the startling clap of thunder in the sky.

If you want to be safe, go back to your tiny room — the night sky is not for you.

If you want to be torn apart, come in. Be broken open and devoured. Be set ablaze in my fire.

I will not leave you as you have come: well dressed, in finely-threaded sweaters that keep out the cold.

I will leave you naked and biting. Leave you clawing at the sheets. Leave you surrounded by owls and hawks and flowers that only bloom when no one is watching.

So, come to me, and be healed in the unbearable lightness and darkness of all that you are.

There is nothing in you that can scare me. Nothing in you I will not use to make you great.

A wild woman is not a girlfriend. She is a relationship with nature. She is the source of all your primal desires, and she is the wild whipping wind that uproots the poisonous corn stalks on your neatly tilled farm.

She will plant pear trees in the wake of your disaster.

She will see to it that you shall rise again.

She is the lover who restored you to your own wild nature."

- Alison Nappi

snapshot of my eye

mi amor se nutre de tu amor

"Quiero que sepas
una cosa.
Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe,
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.
Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.
Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.
Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en ese día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.
Pero
si cada día,
cada hora
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable.
Si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos."
- Pablo Neruda

"I want you to know

one thing.

You know how this is: 
if I look 
at the crystal moon, at the red branch 
of the slow autumn at my window, 
if I touch 
near the fire 
the impalpable ash 
or the wrinkled body of the log, 
everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 

Well, now, 
if little by little you stop loving me 
I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 
you forget me 
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you. 

If you think it long and mad, 
the wind of banners 
that passes through my life, 
and you decide 
to leave me at the shore 
of the heart where I have roots, 
remember 
that on that day, 
at that hour, 
I shall lift my arms 
and my roots will set off 
to seek another land. 

But 
if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine."

- Pablo Neruda

detail from mixed media on canvas, 2017

woman

"Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman.

A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.

Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman who trusts and respects herself.

A woman who listens to her needs and desires.

Who meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman who acknowledges the past's influence on the present.

A woman who has walked through her past.

Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman who authors her own life.

A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.

Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and wisest voice.

Imagine a woman who names her own gods.

A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.

Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman in love with her own body.

A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.

Who celebrates its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman who honors the body of the 

Goddess in her changing body.

A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.

Who refuses to use her life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.

A woman who sits in circles of women.

Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine yourself as this woman."

“Imagine a Woman” © Patricia Lynn Reilly, 1995

se me corta la respiración

"Yo te miro, se me corta la respiración
Cuanto tu me miras se me sube el corazón 

me palpita lento el corazón 

Y en silencio tu mirada dice mil palabras 

La noche en la que te suplico que no salga el sol...

Tu cuerpo y el mio llenando el vacío 
Subiendo y bajando...
Ese fuego por dentro me esta enloqueciendo,
Me va saturando

Con tu física y tu química también tu anatomía
La cerveza y el tequila y tu boca con la mía
Ya no puedo mas 
Ya no puedo mas 
Con esta melodía, tu color, tu fantasía
Con tu filosofía mi cabeza esta vacía
Y ya no puedo mas 
Ya no puedo mas 

Yo quiero estar contigo, vivir contigo
Bailar contigo, tener contigo
Una noche loca 
Ay besar tu boca 
Yo quiero estar contigo, vivir contigo
Bailar contigo, 

tener contigo una noche loca con tremenda loca

Tu me miras y me llevas a otra dimensión 

estoy en otra dimensión
Tu latidos aceleran a mi corazón,

Que ironía del destino no poder tocarte
Abrazarte y sentir la magia de tu olor...

Bailando amor, es que se me va el dolor..."

- Enrique Iglesias 

snapshot of my sweaty shoulder after dancing...

truly dance

"You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

- Kahlil Gibran

my beloved Mimi, 16 years ago today you began to truly dance and your love continues to guide and encourage me

sacred dance of motherhood

 "I may not work outside the home, but I sure as heck work in it.

Be it homeschooling, housework, raising my kids, or working from home, I have stuff to do. I don’t sit around all day, eating cheesecake and napping.

Don’t assume that just because someone doesn’t leave the house for work, they’re just waiting for someone else to come along and give them something to do with their time."

- Melissa Charles

my children come first...motherhood is a sacred dance I have chosen and been blessed with...

motherworld

I am on this earth to mother: to nurture, to birth, to heal, to create, to mourn, to play...to dance the sacred, wild dance of motherhood, remembering HERstory...

"Avalon is psychologically a motherworld. It is the shadow of patriarchal consciousness, repressed and thus feared and distorted, as are any contents of the personal or collective unconscious that are denied. It is also the world of the Mother we once lived in if we were cherished in infancy; in growing up, we left this behind. This mother-world is personally prehistoric, before our own specific memories, as matriarchal history is also. Avalon as mother-world also continues to exist, side by side with rational consciousness, to be entered only when we alter consciousness by falling asleep and dreaming, fall in love, or are in a situation in which the veils between the worlds are thinner and we cross over.

...A model for the existence of motherworld and fatherworld exists as right and left brain psychology, in which the dominant left brain is rational, verbal, and linear, while the right brain is nonverbal, nonrational, nonlinear. The function of the right brain is less appreciated but has to do with images, emotional coloration of experiences, and song (if words at all); the right brain is open to alternative realities.

To cross to Avalon is to remember the archetypal Mother, the Goddess in her several forms and many names, to rediscover the feminine mysteries and the sacred in embodied experiences. Avalon exists where divinity dwells in nature and quickens in the pilgrim. Where there is feminine divinity, there is access to Avalon..."

- Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D.

a favorite snapshot from a series 

I might take the chance

"Well, he walked up to me and he asked me if I wanted to dance.

He looked kinda nice and so I said I might take a chance.

When he danced he held me tight.

And when he walked me home that night, all the stars were shining bright.

And then he kissed me.

Each time I saw him I couldn't wait to see him again.

I wanted to let him know that he was more than a friend.

I didn't know just what to do,
So I whispered I love you.

And he said that he loved me too
And then he kissed me.

He kissed me in a way that I've never been kissed before,
He kissed me in a way that I wanna be kissed forever more.

I knew that he was mine so I gave him all the love that I had.

And one day he took me home to meet his mon and his dad.

Then he asked me to be his bride,
And always be right by his side.

I felt so happy I almost cried
And then he kissed me..."

- Phil Spector, Ellie Greenwich & Jeff Barry

my lips, selfie from today 

without apology

"This is your time. Your time to say what you have kept silent. Your time to ask your big questions without apology. Your time to shine like a blazing comet, whether they like it or not. Your time to believe what your heart tells you: that this world could be very different. Your time to live by your rhythms, and teach them to the world. Your time to nurture your village back to health. Your time to show the world what it has been missing. Your time to show the world the other side of itself."
- T.S. Mohr

telegraph to your soul

"Every time I think of you -

I always catch my breath 

And I'm still standing here 

And you're miles away 

And I'm wondering why you left

And there's a storm that's raging

Through my frozen heart tonight

I hear your name in certain circles

And it always makes me smile

I spend my time

Thinking about you

And it's almost driving me wild

And there's a heart that's breaking

Down this long distance line tonight

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone away

I ain't missing you

No matter what I might say

There's a message in the wire

And I'm sending you this signal tonight

You don't know

How desperate I've become

And it looks like I'm losing this fight

In your world

I have no meaning

Though I'm trying hard to understand

And it's my heart that's breaking

Down this long distance line tonight

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone away

I ain't missing you

No matter what my friends say

And there's a message that I'm sending out

Like a telegraph to your soul

And if I can't bridge this distance

Stop this heartbreak overload

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone away

I ain't missing you

No matter what my friends say

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I can lie to myself

And there's a storm that's raging

Through my frozen heart tonight

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone away

I ain't missing you

No matter what my friends say

Ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I can lie to myself

Ain't missing you...

No matter what my friends might say

I ain't missing you..."

- John Waite

my wild soul

"The way to maintain one's connection to the wild is to ask yourself what it is that you want. This is the sorting of the seed from the dirt. One of the most important discriminations we can make in this matter is the difference between things that beckon to us and things that call from our souls. Nowhere can this be seen more clearly than in the choice of mates and lovers. A lover cannot be chosen a la smorgasbord. A lover has to be chosen from soul-craving. To choose just because something mouthwatering stands before you will never satisfy the hunger of the soul-self. And that is what the intuition is for; it is the direct messenger of the soul."

- Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes

a little dream of me

Stars shining bright above you,

Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"

Birds singing in the sycamore tree,
Dream a little dream of me.

Say "Night-ie night" and kiss me,

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.

While I'm alone and blue as can be,

Dream a little dream of me.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear
Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear
Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me.."

Songwriters: Fabian Andre, Gus Kahn, and Wilbur Schwandt

wisdom

"I see simplicity in the complicated. 

I do great things while they are small.

I can get anywhere from here.

63rd Verse:

Practice nonaction.

Work without doing.

Taste the tasteless.

Magnify the small, increase the few.

Reward the bitterness with care.

See simplicity in the complicated.

Achieve greatness in little things.

Take on difficulties while the are still easy; do great things while they are still small.

The sage does not attempt anything very big, and thus achieves greatness.

If you agree too easily, you will be little trusted; because the sage always confronts difficulties, s(he) never experiences them."

- Dr. Wayne W. Dyer

Living Wisdom of the Tao

Original Photo Credits: Catalina Checa

I have enjoyed playing with these images of myself and the ocean...I am craving saltwater once again...

amor entre los dientes

"Nadie comprendía el perfume

de la oscura magnolia de tu vientre.
Nadie sabía que martirizabas
un colibrí de amor entre los dientes.

Mil caballitos persas se dormían
en la plaza con luna de tu frente,
mientras que yo enlazaba cuatro noches
tu cintura, enemiga de la nieve.

Entre yeso y jazmines, tu mirada
era un pálido ramo de simientes.
Yo busqué, para darte, por mi pecho
las letras de marfil que dicen siempre,

siempre, siempre: jardin de mi agonia,
tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre,
la sangre de tus venas en mi boca,
tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte."

- Federico Garcia Lorca

"Nobody understood the perfume
of the dark magnolia of your belly.
Nobody knew how you martyred
the hummingbird of love between your teeth.

A thousand tiny Persian horses slept
in the plaza in the light of your forehead’s moon
while I for four nights laced myself
to your waist, the enemy of snow.

Between plaster and jasmine, your gaze
is a pale and seeding branch.
I searched through my chest to give to you
the ivory letters that say forever,

forever, forever: Garden of my agony,
your body fleeing from me forever,
the blood of your veins now in my mouth,
your mouth already lightless for my death."

- translation by Niina Pollari

2006 or 2007 carved wood block 

she had a husband

el me llamó y me contó lo siguiente:

"So I took her to the river.

I thought she wasn't married,

but she had a husband.

It was St. James' eve,

and almost as if agreed.

The streetlights went out,

the crickets went on.

At the far edge of town

I touched her sleeping breasts.

They opened to me suddenly

like fronds of hyacinth.

The starch of her petticoat

made a sound in my ears 

like a piece of silk

being ripped by ten knives.

Silver light gone from their leaves,

the trees have grown bigger,

and a horizon of dogs

barks far from the river.

Out beyond the rambles,

the hawthorns and reeds,

beneath her mane of hair

I made a hollow in the sedge.

I took off my necktie.

She took off her dress.

I, my belt and pistol.

She, four bodices.

No silken shell or spikenard

is finer than her skin,

nor did moons or mirrors

ever glow like this.

Her thighs eluded me

like startled fish,

one half filled with fire,

the other half with cold.

That night the road I ran

was the finest of them all,

without a bridle or stirrup

on a filly made of pearl.

As a man, I won't repeat

the things she said to me.

The light of understanding 

has made me more discreet.

I took her from the river

spiked with kisses and sand.

The sabers of the irises

were stabbing at the breeze.

I behaved as what I am.

A true-born gypsy.

I gave her a sewing basket 

made of straw-gold satin,

and refused to fall in love

because she had a husband,

though she said she wasn't married

when I took her to the river."

- Federico Garcia Lorca

Mimi

"Walking, I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly, all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands." - Linda Hogan

be still...

watch...

listen...

words of wisdom...

Thinking of my beloved maternal grandmother, Lillian...my Mimi who is urging me to continue telling my story, to continue writing HERstory, especially now that I have a daughter...

mixed media on paper 

dare

"When I dare to be powerful -- to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid."

- Audré Lorde (1934-1992)

mixed media on paper

the real lover

"The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.” 

- Marilyn Monroe