tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58072990910016115502024-03-05T01:33:33.003-09:00Pray to the MoonMusings of a mother, mycophile & unabashed animist.
Notes on cultivating an animist tradition.Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.comBlogger424125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-41721302218205183802018-11-23T11:37:00.000-09:002018-11-23T11:37:30.245-09:00Mirror, Mirror... 11.21.17 (for the files)<br />
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<b>"<i>If art reflects life, it does so with special mirrors.</i>"</b></h3>
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~ Bertolt Brecht</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mirror, Mirror.</td></tr>
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-38187224080649457472018-11-19T11:24:00.000-09:002018-11-19T11:24:06.220-09:001.30.17<br />
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-76084866953856201012018-11-18T11:03:00.000-09:002018-11-18T11:03:05.776-09:0001.02.17<br />
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-88838203775594190322018-11-17T10:52:00.000-09:002018-11-17T10:52:02.164-09:00What I Noticed Today. Coincidence?<span style="font-size: large;">I noticed...</span><div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For what it's worth, I noticed that I robbed myself of this journal (ostensibly) in November of 2016. I'd like to blame another, but it is I who hands over the power, no?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Khallas</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Best be taking this shit back.</span></div>
Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-41810598777529035042018-11-15T14:06:00.000-09:002018-11-15T14:06:05.691-09:0011.15.18<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-13566813291675107592017-11-07T11:58:00.001-09:002017-11-07T12:00:21.110-09:00There's A Monster Living Under My House<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There's a monster living under my house & from what I can glean from the sparse, unofficial records, it has been there for five years come this December...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This monster, we call it <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/agoraanchorage/" target="_blank">The Agora</a>. Over the years, it has assumed many forms, many permutations, yet always within a set of permanent dimensions. It has hungrily outstripped many patrons, but still, it persists. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">✯✯✯</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am the Agora's chronically ambivalent caretaker. I am also its greatest skeptic. I will be the first to suggest that we abandon the 'experiment' which never dies even though all reason says it should. Yet, when I look in the mirror, I see the backbone, the lifeblood of this monster. Still, I am not its birth parent, not exactly anyway.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Setup: Gnostic Mass</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Who the <i>helvella</i> sets out to make a monster like this? Crazy people. People who are so in love with their gods or their community (or sometimes, their egos) that they are willing to open the doors to something insane & to hold it up while it grows. I know we are not alone. We stand among many -- mostly fallen -- soldiers of the P/pagan dream: space-for-community. Our monster still lives. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The key, the KEY that most communities fail to recognize, or worse still, fail to embrace, is that there must, there MUST be a revenue stream which relies on outside sources. There must be a business model which humbly accepts that there is very little chance that any random assortment of 'spiritually-minded' humans -- particularly of the naturally rebellious pagan sort -- can or will sustain any financial venture over time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The other key is sacrifice.* </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And maybe this is why I am such a doubter -- had I been keeping score all this time I might have found myself less skeptical & more bitter. On the other hand, I was wisely advised long ago never to keep score in relationships.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">✯✯✯</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not sure what made me need to acknowledge this birthday of the monster here in this journal... to mark, log & make official that-which-hasn't-died. Part of me wanted a party, but the other part of me is pretty sure a party is a sure means to dissolution, a veritable jinx. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe I needed to recognize this thing because I am working more consciously than ever to find my way into proper balance with it. I need boundaries, <i>it</i> needs boundaries. At times, it has dominated me in ways which have made me resentful & angry. So many times, I have wanted to give it the boot. Yet, the returns have been very rich & unique beyond measure. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Setting the stage: <br />chaos Magick.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I always joke about going back into the past to tell one of my former selfs about my role in maintaining a place for pagan & esoteric gatherings -- especially my atheist self. Really, any past self would be pretty incredulous. In retrospect, I think I usually had strong opinions in any given moment, but never really knew where I was going, never consciously planted any seeds, never had any clear sense of direction or planning. And I ended up here, with this incredible monster. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so it is, whether it be the result of serendipitious bumbling or the answer to a more potent & pointed calling. Let it be a Happy Birthday to the monster which lives & breathes under this house... may it continue to nourish & sustain our people, & their Spirits so long as they need it. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVYjQznWnbofHVzbMQ7aujsyJUYxenJW9qndrJHH_lLJinMOiRjZTnxaWHBEim-OGPCcuenHdS7fKebcJIlzHhPAMKHZ5vYYBPUe5632TI63f_6wR7qhEi36CHDs9UXwbiCk7F8_xCIEF/s1600/Agora11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="450" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVYjQznWnbofHVzbMQ7aujsyJUYxenJW9qndrJHH_lLJinMOiRjZTnxaWHBEim-OGPCcuenHdS7fKebcJIlzHhPAMKHZ5vYYBPUe5632TI63f_6wR7qhEi36CHDs9UXwbiCk7F8_xCIEF/s200/Agora11.jpg" width="140" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AyI9zl_Gv_w/WgIaqvkSa1I/AAAAAAAAKWc/igXggXPAsYwesbbzD3EkiVxZ1VKdfZ8LACLcBGAs/s1600/Agora12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="533" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AyI9zl_Gv_w/WgIaqvkSa1I/AAAAAAAAKWc/igXggXPAsYwesbbzD3EkiVxZ1VKdfZ8LACLcBGAs/s200/Agora12.jpg" width="166" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Admittedly, there are several other very necessary "lesser keys," but this is not the place to discuss organizational structure & strategies.</span><br />
<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-24301487993215499002017-10-03T21:37:00.000-08:002017-10-12T23:51:31.456-08:00MOMOS: More Relevant Than Ever.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3d36-1BXAs0/WdFN_pX0x5I/AAAAAAAAKOI/nhG60z8zx48dxucQkem0YKnQqG2v06pKwCLcBGAs/s1600/dcf3013e8b30d02f2a160d9f3a2b35ec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Momus," by Juan Martin. (I cannot locate a website for this artist, although many pinterest pages show his work. Most of his art is gay/pagan themed & would be of interest to likeminded folks. If anyone finds his website, please message me so that I can link properly.)" border="0" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="736" height="337" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3d36-1BXAs0/WdFN_pX0x5I/AAAAAAAAKOI/nhG60z8zx48dxucQkem0YKnQqG2v06pKwCLcBGAs/s400/dcf3013e8b30d02f2a160d9f3a2b35ec.jpg" title=""Momus" by Juan Martin" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Momus," by Juan Martin.<br />(I cannot locate a website for this artist, although many pinterest pages show his work. <br />Most of his art is gay/pagan themed & would be of interest to likeminded folks.<br />If anyone finds his website, please message me so that I can link properly.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Momos (Μῶμος or Momus). Much maligned child of our beloved primordial mother, <a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/p/nyx.html">Nyx</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let's not complicate this with caveats: <i>tyranny dislikes critics</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Momos has been framed as an "unfair" or "unreasonable" detractor, but let's look at this rationally. In an irrational world where the gods can do, create, be, destroy, employ, modify & otherwise bamboozle anything they please, is anything (particularly commentary) unfair or unreasonable?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Momos is generally overlooked by humans who seek (or even seek to chronicle) gods. But if he is known for anything, it is his admittedly harsh <a href="http://sillydragon.com/gen_edu/Fables/Fable_0124.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">judgement of the gods' handiwork in Aesop's Fables</a>. I concede that in this circumstance, he was quite rude... but we do not know the backstory.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Personally, I am more fond of his skill as the authority-needling graffiti artist: </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qz5XgoQUtgA/WdFVe3QoNMI/AAAAAAAAKOY/RqM1OrTahS43ahaK2I_ulkOi6C5wvYXngCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2017-10-01%2Bat%2B12.32.55%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Excerpt from "Graffiti in Antiquity," by Peter Keegan." border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="1064" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qz5XgoQUtgA/WdFVe3QoNMI/AAAAAAAAKOY/RqM1OrTahS43ahaK2I_ulkOi6C5wvYXngCLcBGAs/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2017-10-01%2Bat%2B12.32.55%2BPM.png" title="Excerpt from "Graffiti in Antiquity," by Peter Keegan." width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Excerpt from <a href="https://www.academia.edu/6374351/Graffiti_in_Antiquity" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">"Graffiti in Antiquity," by Peter Keegan</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is no shock that this behavior got his ass booted from Olympus. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is not news that Nyx's children generally receive poor marks in the literature. I will confess that I was more than a little squeamish when She expected Her place in my cosmology because She brings with her a <i>brood </i>-- much maligned & sometimes malignant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, Time has proven my reticence an overreaction </span><span style="font-size: large;">(not unlike the booting of Momos) </span><span style="font-size: large;">to what has become a relevant & needful education about Life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Further, humanity (or the lack thereof) has proven Momos's role as more relevant than ever. (At least for my people.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>This is why I will be erecting a <a href="https://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/p/sanctum-of-momos.html">sanctum to Momos</a>* in this journal space </b>(watch for it to appear on the sidebar of the blog, under Nyx's gallery).<i> It will be a safe space for our graffiti.</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Everything you wish to say about Our-State-of-Affairs will be an offering to Him. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And I know He will relish every contrary word of it.</span></div>
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*Updated with link 10/12/17<br />
<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-26118584865568819052017-10-01T12:09:00.000-08:002017-10-01T13:51:39.541-08:00The State of Affairs & Suchlike, Yours, Mine Ours...<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Mockingbird is staring at me through the window. S/he wants more mixed cocktail nuts or pecan halves to be placed in the offering dish that graces the rail of our deck. Unlike the Bluejays, the Mockingbirds never dare to simply walk into the house to announce their perceived starvation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My neglected storytelling is a bit like the Mockingbirds, sometimes noisy, sometimes elusive, yet always arriving with a pang of guilt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now that I have restored the dish to proper fullness with a large dose of pecans, <i>let me begin to begin again</i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This journal. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Over the years it has become a Thing of its own & has also become a Thing to not only myself -- but apparently, many others. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe the sense of obligation killed me. (Albeit temporarily.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe the pressure to perform killed me. (Albeit temporarily.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe the semi-death of my camera, my mate & 'other voice' killed me. (Albeit temporarily.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe my passion for Another -- the Dance -- killed me. (Albeit temporarily.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe the degree of discomfort I experience while sitting more than a few moments killed me. (Albeit temporarily.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe it was the urgent pressings of Others wanting their Shrines made manifest killed me. </span><span style="font-size: large;">(Albeit temporarily.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And maybe, the distraction of my sheer horror & disgust of Our State of Affairs (& Suchlike)... well, I do hope it doesn't kill us all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe, maybe, maybe... </span><span style="font-size: large;">But we all die many times everyday & it doesn't stop us indefinitely.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(<i>Just think about all those cells dying & replacing themselves daily, on your epidermis, in your mouth, your liver, your colon...</i>)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so I begin Again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(And to those of you who have been waiting: I never stopped loving you.) </span><br />
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-42228714819817851532017-08-07T22:16:00.004-08:002017-08-07T22:17:59.362-08:00Is It Love, Or Is It Just Another Esbat? Some Poetry.<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have no time to write, although I feel the inclination. I have a class that starts 15 minutes from now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But this. This gave me pause. I am not quite sure why it moved me so -- so much so that I came here to my sleeping journal & shook it awake just to make sure this is heard:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you this Esbat, my friends.</span></div>
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-64351703263994705362017-03-13T00:54:00.001-08:002017-03-13T00:55:28.271-08:00Something for the Esbat. March, 2017 (Maktub)<span style="font-size: large;">This.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This Night.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Any Night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some songs, they come & go. Not this.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It persists.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps... it is not a song.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you this Esbat, my Friends. I Love you.</span></div>
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-78720219710200655812017-02-03T11:43:00.000-09:002017-02-03T11:43:30.498-09:00Scraps: Wicker Man Reboot<div style="text-align: center;">
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-89449963057255969992017-01-12T12:20:00.000-09:002017-01-12T12:25:26.138-09:00Poetry for the Esbat: Heartstring Moon (January 2017)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>La Luna</i>, the Heartstring Puppeteer.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">La Luna.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>She is a master -- the Heartstring Puppeteer</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>and when I turn my face to Her face, </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>sometimes I see Her beauty, reflecting my beauty, reflecting back to Her, to me.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Sometimes I see You</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>and you</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>(and you and you and you and you.)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And I know she has your strings as much as She has mine, because you tell me so:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"<i>Happy full moon, my dear.</i>" in a message from J.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Loving text from S.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Photo from my heartstring A.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br />These are a few of the faces which look back at me through Her face. So many more, there are -- if you see me, you can be sure I see you. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Just a sentiment to keep us warm while this cold season passes by. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Winter Sun </span>by <a href="http://www.mollyfisk.com/" target="_blank">Molly Fisk</a></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">How valuable it is in these short days,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">threading through empty maple branches,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">the lacy-needled sugar pines.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Its glint off sheets of ice tells the story</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">of Death’s brightness, her bitter cold.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">We can make do with so little, just the hint</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">of warmth, the slanted light.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">The way we stand there, soaking in it,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">mittened fingers reaching.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">And how carefully we gather what we can</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">to offer later, in darkness, one body to another.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Blessings to you & you & you & you, this Esbat. </i></span><br />
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-4239076615571096812017-01-04T12:01:00.001-09:002018-11-17T10:52:52.607-09:00What They Said. (About Flying, Risk & Beginnings.)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-emBW7F5VP30/WG1VqFarF9I/AAAAAAAAJ3w/H3sIVg2Gins8zzoCMRXwMfmoQBQAyNQXACLcB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-12-01%2Bat%2B3.12.04%2BPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Flight. © Moma Fauna." border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-emBW7F5VP30/WG1VqFarF9I/AAAAAAAAJ3w/H3sIVg2Gins8zzoCMRXwMfmoQBQAyNQXACLcB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-12-01%2Bat%2B3.12.04%2BPM.jpg" title="Flight. © Moma Fauna." width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flight. It's time.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>"There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss."</i></span> </blockquote>
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~ <a href="http://www.douglasadams.com/" target="_blank">Douglas Adams</a></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>"But it is a thousand times better to make every kind of mistake than to slide into the habit of hesitation, of uncertainty, of indecision."</i></span> </blockquote>
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~ <a href="http://oto-usa.org/thelema/crowley/" target="_blank">Aleister Crowley</a></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Stop the words now.<br />Open the window<br />in the center of your chest,<br />and let the spirits fly<br />in and out!</i></span> </blockquote>
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~ <a href="https://www.al-islam.org/history-muslim-philosophy-volume-2-book-4/chapter-42-jalal-al-din-rumi" target="_blank">Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī </a></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The cumulative effect of 10 minutes of even mediocre effort each day is greater than all the epic imaginations of perfection & awesomeness which never leave the machinations of the creative mind. Forty five years into the deal I am seeing how that actually works. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I look at it from a mystical standpoint -- that is, if things are more deeply interlaced than they might superficially seem (a mindset to which I subscribe) -- I must recognize the disservice I am committing to the Muses, the Magick, the Work (let alone mySelf). Thoughtforms, beasts of creativity forever imprisoned... by me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Art imprisoned... by me. <i>What</i>?!?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"<i>Khallas</i>!" <a href="https://joanasaahirahworld.com/" target="_blank">she</a> would say to me, or to anyone who spends their time bursting at the seams with ideas, dreams, visions & held back by an obsessive desire <i>not to make any errors</i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Khallas!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Open the window.</span><br />
<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-74743367858086870492016-12-21T22:15:00.001-09:002016-12-21T22:34:08.120-09:00Winter Solstice 2016 (Yep, It's Dark.) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a8cPt6lO4Hw/WFt9WDrYo2I/AAAAAAAAJ0E/NbX7tuSKB6knNEvhe6m7T4WtafDaNAUQACLcB/s1600/Solstice%2B20161%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Winter Solstice, 2016" border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a8cPt6lO4Hw/WFt9WDrYo2I/AAAAAAAAJ0E/NbX7tuSKB6knNEvhe6m7T4WtafDaNAUQACLcB/s640/Solstice%2B20161%2B%25281%2529.jpg" title="Winter Solstice, 2016" width="395" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/features/audio/detail/75483#.WFuBpEkm5MU.blogger"><i>Winter Solstice Chant - Poem of the Day</i></a>: By Annie Finch
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-82592945427170151622016-11-13T14:52:00.000-09:002016-11-13T14:52:17.272-09:00Poetry for the Esbat: Mad, Mad, Mad Moon. (November, 2016)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dlzh8Dt8vlI/WCjo_CdZsnI/AAAAAAAAJyA/QXHMh3GRHpktt8IjlY-czKwifveIHNNmACLcB/s1600/Infernal%2BApparition%2B%257E%2BPaul%2BLormier%2B1848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Infernal Apparition" by Paul Lormier, 1848" border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dlzh8Dt8vlI/WCjo_CdZsnI/AAAAAAAAJyA/QXHMh3GRHpktt8IjlY-czKwifveIHNNmACLcB/s320/Infernal%2BApparition%2B%257E%2BPaul%2BLormier%2B1848.jpg" title=""Infernal Apparition" by Paul Lormier, 1848" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Infernal Apparition" by Paul Lormier, 1848</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lilith. (and the lilītu?)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dark Moon, She is (they are). But I shall explain...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"The energy of the evening was lacking & what little there had been died away in an unceremonious manner. At an unusually early hour, the other women -- now more than vaguely disaffected -- meandered home, leaving just the two of us & the Night. She stood, I sat. I looked up at her & realized how much & in how many ways I will miss her. She has always struck me as unusually carefree & a touch New-Agegy, but not tonight. This was supposed to be our parting, but she was mad, mad, mad. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There was room now to speak of taboos -- that which has left us all reeling inside but was left unsaid. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Instead of exchanging pleasantries, we shared our chagrin. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Raising her rich, full, singer's voice in disgust, she shrieked, '</span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Why the fuck do we train for this shit if we do not use it for anything</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">?!? </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The time is <u>over</u>! No more messing around -- if you know how to do Magick, do it people</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">!'" </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Who said this? Was it the dark, luscious woman before me, or was it... <i>Her</i>?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As far as I can tell, the Earth has split open & one large, festering pustule of human loathing has been loosed from its containment. (Not that it is the only one.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So be it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(as long as those of us with any wit do not remain idly grazing in the pastures)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>***</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Works. So many, so little time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I began an ambitious project a year or so ago (one of many, believe me) -- a shrine to Lilith. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is not for me, it is for Her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It has waited patiently for me to complete it, but the time for patience is over. Her rage & despair are mine. They are ours.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>May Her fire be unleashed & may Her steely, self-assured grit carry us through the unwanted Darkness </i>(there is a difference). I will do my part to facilitate this. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-libo9mARneY/WCjuH48K_SI/AAAAAAAAJyg/AkEqGGTJhik-UsxOr4Uj4sZs0ieQeN6HACK4B/s1600/tumblr_nxv3vmpj0Q1ulfl2lo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-libo9mARneY/WCjuH48K_SI/AAAAAAAAJyg/AkEqGGTJhik-UsxOr4Uj4sZs0ieQeN6HACK4B/s400/tumblr_nxv3vmpj0Q1ulfl2lo1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://www.rupikaur.com/about/" target="_blank">Rupi Kaur,</a> artist, poet, woman.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.segoviaamilpoetry.com/about/" target="_blank">Segovia Amil</a>, artist, poet, woman.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Use your Magicks</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">*</span><span style="font-size: large;">, Women. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And remember this: </span><i><span style="font-size: large;">The moon lives in the lining of your skin.</span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">***</span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuMNvkaUqMY/WCjoQcypSCI/AAAAAAAAJx8/TN1rzygewkYLZ0chAfeQ0omBTQUZ9HLOgCLcB/s1600/The%2BMoon%253ALa%2BLuna%2BTrionfi%2Bdella%2BLuna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Like the feline, She sleeps ever so lightly. The Moon/La Luna, from Patrick Valenza's Trionfi Della Luna & Trionfi Della Luna Paradoxical limited ed. sets." border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuMNvkaUqMY/WCjoQcypSCI/AAAAAAAAJx8/TN1rzygewkYLZ0chAfeQ0omBTQUZ9HLOgCLcB/s320/The%2BMoon%253ALa%2BLuna%2BTrionfi%2Bdella%2BLuna.jpg" title="Like the feline, She sleeps ever so lightly. The Moon/La Luna, from Patrick Valenza's Trionfi Della Luna & Trionfi Della Luna Paradoxical limited ed. sets." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Like the feline, She sleeps ever so lightly.<br />The Moon/La Luna, from <a href="http://www.deviantmoon.com/wordpress/" target="_blank">Patrick Valenza's </a><br /><i>Trionfi Della Luna</i> & <i>Trionfi Della Luna Paradoxical</i> limited ed. sets.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Esbat... not something I would normally associate with Lilith, a Dark Moon sort of creature. I am not one for Dark Moons (or Lilith really) until now & that stems purely from an elephantine indignation shared with so many of my kind. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Women: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We are magnificent. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thus, it is in a kind of tangled web of Moon forces, womanhood & sheer exasperation that I present the poetry for this Esbat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ode to Naked Beauty</span>, by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pablo_Neruda" target="_blank">Pablo Neruda</a><br />
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<i>With a chaste heart </i><br />
<i>With pure eyes I celebrate your beauty</i><br />
<i>Holding the leash of blood</i><br />
<i>So that it might leap out and trace your outline </i><br />
<i>Where you lie down in my Ode </i><br />
<i>As in a land of forests or in surf</i><br />
<i>In aromatic loam, or in sea music</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Beautiful nude</i><br />
<i>Equally beautiful your feet</i><br />
<i>Arched by primeval tap of wind or sound</i><br />
<i>Your ears, small shells</i><br />
<i>Of the splendid American sea</i><br />
<i>Your breasts of level plentitude</i><br />
<i>Fulfilled by living light</i><br />
<i>Your flying eyelids of wheat</i><br />
<i>Revealing or enclosing</i><br />
<i>The two deep countries of your eyes</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The line your shoulders have divided into pale regions</i><br />
<i>Loses itself and blends into the compact halves of an apple </i><br />
<i>Continues separating your beauty down into two columns of</i><br />
<i>Burnished gold</i><br />
<i>Fine alabaster</i><br />
<i>To sink into the two grapes of your feet</i><br />
<i>Where your twin symmetrical tree burns again and rises</i><br />
<i>Flowering fire</i><br />
<i>Open chandelier</i><br />
<i>A swelling fruit </i><br />
<i>Over the pact of sea and earth </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>From what materials</i><br />
<i>Agate?</i><br />
<i>Quartz?</i><br />
<i>Wheat?</i><br />
<i>Did your body come together?</i><br />
<i>Swelling like baking bread to signal silvered hills </i><br />
<i>The cleavage of one petal </i><br />
<i>Sweet fruits of a deep velvet </i><br />
<i>Until alone remained</i><br />
<i>Astonished </i><br />
<i>The fine and firm feminine form </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>It is not only light that falls over the world spreading inside your body</i><br />
<i>Yet suffocate itself</i><br />
<i>So much is clarity </i><br />
<i>Taking its leave of you</i><br />
<i>As if you were on fire within </i><br />
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<i>The moon lives in the lining of your skin.</i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Extra Blessings to you this Esbat, my friends. You may need them. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">*</span><span style="font-size: large;">We all have them. What is yours? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(If you have no answer to this question, find it.)</span><br />
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-47004099227222874512016-10-31T14:19:00.001-08:002016-10-31T14:29:43.691-08:00Reclaiming Samhain as My Own.<span style="font-size: large;">I've been preoccupied. Obviously.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rather than try to address months of secular amusements & obligations which have kept me from dutifully journaling, I shall cut to the chase. After all, here my fingers return to the keys on "the big day." No coincidences. </span><br />
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<b>☽<span style="font-size: large;">◦</span>☾</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/search/label/Samhain" target="_blank">Samhain</a> has been a messy item for me for years. Along the way, I have come to the conclusion that I don't like what other people do with it. Whether too kitschy, cute, Love & Light, or creepy pants I'm-so-Gothy-cool-worship-me, or unstoppably careening into nauseating psycho-drama hyperbole, I just cannot fucking do it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">No. Just no. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Leave me & my Spirits out, whether I bother to honour them on this day or not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oddly, something salvaged my Samhain sensibilities this season: <a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/search/label/Doreen%20Valiente" target="_blank">Doreen Valiente</a>. In my ongoing excavations to uncover myself (& everything else that matters), I have come 'round to this woman countless times. I come 'round & 'round, again & again (I might suggest that she would say that is apropos for her). I cannot shake her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even when I really, really don't want to identify with all the Wicca & Witches & sometimes the entire pagan/Pagan/Neo-pagan/Neo-neo-pagan/occult/esoteric... etc., etc. communities, I cannot turn from her. Kind of like the Moon, I reckon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the more recent portion of my absence, I have been reading Heselton's <i><a href="http://www.doreenvaliente.com/Doreen-Valiente-Doreen_Valiente_Biography-19.php" target="_blank">Doreen Valiente: Witch</a></i>. I didn't realize just how much I missed her until I took up the book. I also didn't quite realize how much I relate to her personally until now. It seems she had the same habit of becoming hopelessly & enthusiastically attracted to an esoteric group or system, studying & engaging with it vigorously & then finding herself quickly seeing the shortcomings -- particularly the factual ones. Heselton does not state it outright, but I sense that she found herself regularly disappointed by the reality of the people behind the metaphysical practices. Not surprising with her talent & intellect.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, the text inevitably arrives at Robert Cochrane who, as characterized by my dear <a href="http://blog.chasclifton.com/" target="_blank">Chas Clifton</a>, was the "bad boy" of Witchcraft. There's no question why Doreen joined his short-lived parade, I would have followed him too, right up onto the tors & down into the caves. And though Cochrane was not immune to folly -- also being completely full of shit -- he was insightful enough that he indeed had his finger on the real deal. Ecstasis. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But you see, people don't want to go there. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>☽<span style="font-size: large;">◦</span>☾</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The text includes Doreen's elegy for Robert. I had read it plenty before, but it moved me deeply this time 'round.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Elegy For A Dead Witch</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>(Written by Doreen originally for Robert Cochrane)</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>To think that you are gone, over the crest of the hills,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>As the Moon passed from her fullness, riding the sky,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>And the White Mare took you with her.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>To think that we will wait another life</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>To drink the wine from the horns and leap the fire.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Farewell from this world, but not from the Circle.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>That place that is between the worlds</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Shall hold return in due time. Nothing is lost.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>The half of a fruit from the tree of Avalon</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Shall be our reminder, among the fallen leaves</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>This life treads underfoot. Let the rain weep.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Waken in sunlight from the Realms of Sleep.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>© Copyright <a href="http://www.doreenvaliente.com/" target="_blank">The Doreen Valiente Foundation</a></b></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This leads me to this one day & one conclusion: from now on I say, screw the fearful & self conscious (yes, I suffer from both). I'll go it alone.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Samhain. I see it now.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And I'll dedicate it all to you both -- perhaps the two persons I never met, yet strangely miss the most. </span><br />
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(Edit: images are from my own Samhain ceremony, dedicated to D.V. & R.C.)<br />
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-54337254825794871762016-07-19T12:10:00.000-08:002016-07-19T12:15:46.772-08:00Poetry for the Esbat: Cool It Moon. July 2016. <blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“‘<i>Heat, ma’am!’ I said; ‘it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones.</i>”</span> Sydney Smith</blockquote>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t7-MZ2wSW9Q/V45_fIwOQtI/AAAAAAAAJmk/oLUkPmv1bBE6smWP2S32zxSypd7fI8JnwCLcB/s1600/Too%2Bhot1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="It's hot." border="0" height="260" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t7-MZ2wSW9Q/V45_fIwOQtI/AAAAAAAAJmk/oLUkPmv1bBE6smWP2S32zxSypd7fI8JnwCLcB/s400/Too%2Bhot1.jpg" title="It's hot." width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>It's hot.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is hot...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X1IRNP0QFa8/V45_ivFHsnI/AAAAAAAAJmw/zDaO4hQjOFEnGBK_zyKy9_YV3NTqiE4kgCEw/s1600/Too%2Bhot3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Summer Sun through the smoke-filled air -- wildfires abound." border="0" height="303" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X1IRNP0QFa8/V45_ivFHsnI/AAAAAAAAJmw/zDaO4hQjOFEnGBK_zyKy9_YV3NTqiE4kgCEw/s400/Too%2Bhot3.jpg" title="Summer Sun through the smoke-filled air -- wildfires abound." width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Summer Sun through the smoke-filled air -- wildfires abound.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">...too, too hot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>The heat!</b></i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is something I expected from the high desert, but to return to Alaska to find the same! Context is everything. I adore the heat, but it doesn't belong in this place. Not like this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Besides, Alaskans can't handle the heat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And maybe the heat is getting to everyone having a Summer on this planet. I don't know, but it seems to me that someone shoved a stick through the hive & the wasps are very angry... turning on one another.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps we turn on one another in order to ignore the much larger, much hotter problems that loom over our so-called 'civilization.' </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">These are times when I look to the Moon. She is the purest form of Quiet Calm -- a cool, reflective lens. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Shhhh... </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K4fg1CjhxwY/V45_c_qDYCI/AAAAAAAAJmw/UzMkuPNk_QQPf6hHQ0M9IAChSiZetk5FQCEw/s1600/Lady%2BMoon%2BJune%2B2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Lady Luna, cool, quiet." border="0" height="260" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K4fg1CjhxwY/V45_c_qDYCI/AAAAAAAAJmw/UzMkuPNk_QQPf6hHQ0M9IAChSiZetk5FQCEw/s400/Lady%2BMoon%2BJune%2B2016.jpg" title="Lady Luna, cool, quiet." width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Shhhh...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Be still, chaotic little children of Earth.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Cool it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Please.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If we look to Lady Moon as our guide, She can remind us to be quiet & look within. She watches, unwavering as we scramble about, soiling our nest & blaming one another. She will witness our end & calmly continue to witness what lies beyond.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last night I was awake late enough to see Her sliding along the neighboring rooftops opposite the never-quite-setting-Sun. To describe the feeling I experienced as 'reassuring' would be to understate the effect Her presence has upon my psyche. Centering, calming, clarifying, a sense of succor -- none of these suffice. Hence, the inspiration for this month's Esbat poetry. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THE MOTHER MOON, </span>by Louisa May Alcott</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The moon upon the wide sea</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Placidly looks down,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Smiling with her mild face,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Though the ocean frown.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Clouds may dim her brightness,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But soon they pass away,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And she shines out, unaltered,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">O'er the little waves at play.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So 'mid the storm or sunshine,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wherever she may go,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Led on by her hidden power</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The wild see must plow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As the tranquil evening moon</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looks on that restless sea,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So a mother's gentle face,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Little child, is watching thee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then banish every tempest,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Chase all your clouds away,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That smoothly and brightly</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Your quiet heart may play.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let cheerful looks and actions</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Like shining ripples flow,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Following the mother's voice,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Singing as they go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Blessings to you this Esbat, my friends.</i></span></div>
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-17641945841327935622016-06-18T21:53:00.001-08:002016-06-18T21:53:37.827-08:00Poetry for the Esbat: Darkness Moon, 2016<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7kEgpnBKJoI/V2Ym-eQe-qI/AAAAAAAAJl0/K0sJXHcnIo0W2nO9ZaiPvH3IHhiZ_hY3ACLcB/s1600/June%2B2016%2BFull%2BMoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Almost there, sister. Waxing Moon, June 2016." border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7kEgpnBKJoI/V2Ym-eQe-qI/AAAAAAAAJl0/K0sJXHcnIo0W2nO9ZaiPvH3IHhiZ_hY3ACLcB/s400/June%2B2016%2BFull%2BMoon.jpg" title="Almost there, sister. Waxing Moon, June 2016." width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Almost there, sister.<br />Waxing Moon, June 2016.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are no words. No words to explain my delight in this Sky, this sprawling, Dark, Night, Sky...</span><div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tonight I receive many, many messages & images from friends & my beloved. Tonight they are celebrating the Summer Solstice in that typically modern Pagan way -- on the most convenient weekend. They are also celebrating the Solstice Alaska-Style: in the endless daylight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tonight, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">here in the yawning Desert,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">under the sable cloak of Night,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I find myself not missing it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tonight, in the company of crickets, I photographed the Moon. But first, I sat on the porch of the house (the one that stole my heart so many years ago) & waited. It took awhile. She had been playing coy behind the clouds. It doesn't matter really. I am patient. Besides, the Darkness is enough for me. Had She never left Her coverlets, I still would have left satisfied. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday, while washing dishes to avoid the heat, I was reflecting on the raw thrill of the Darkness; the vulnerability & the opening of the imagination which only being doused & disoriented by the Dark can introduce. So I was very pleased to recover this Esbat's poem from my lengthy favorites list on my phone's <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/resources/mobile" target="_blank">Poetry Foundation App</a> (yes, I recognize this app thing is cliché) this evening. Things always seem to fall together just as they should, no?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know there are a variety of rich & thoughtful literary interpretations for the following piece. But, I personally like to take it at face value -- with a very uncomplicated ear & heart. I like to think it's really just about the Darkness & being a goofy human, completely & hopelessly maladapted to nocturnal living & literally smacking your face into a tree. Then, perhaps, with practice, patience & some caution, finding your bat's wings. I find that interpretation most satisfying actually.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">We grow accustomed to the Dark</span> - (428) <span style="font-size: x-small;">by Emily Dickinson</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We grow accustomed to the Dark - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When light is put away - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">To witness her Goodbye - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A Moment - We uncertain step</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For newness of the night - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then - fit our Vision to the Dark - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And meet the Road - erect - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And so of larger - Darknesses - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Those Evenings of the Brain - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When not a Moon disclose a sign - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Or Star - come out - within - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Bravest - grope a little - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And sometimes hit a Tree</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Directly in the Forehead - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But as they learn to see - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Either the Darkness alters - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Or something in the sight</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Adjusts itself to Midnight - </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And Life steps almost straight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Blessings to you this Esbat, my friends. </i></span></div>
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-12784763318996903992016-06-02T09:57:00.003-08:002016-07-22T09:40:29.303-08:00Poly-All-In. Installment 1: Folly.<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Installment 1 of an itch-driven yet somewhat spontaneous series of reflections on life as a modern day polytheistic animist.</i></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qSnWLSZ9IY4/V1BoilNDDKI/AAAAAAAAJkY/miHCOgh-sukgUEkSWxFobgtr5yxQqYctwCK4B/s1600/tumblr_o7vwplJAME1resmcxo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Image appreciatively poached from the Open Gyre. " border="0" height="244" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qSnWLSZ9IY4/V1BoilNDDKI/AAAAAAAAJkY/miHCOgh-sukgUEkSWxFobgtr5yxQqYctwCK4B/s320/tumblr_o7vwplJAME1resmcxo1_1280.jpg" title="Image appreciatively poached from the Open Gyre. " width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image appreciatively poached from the <a href="http://theopengyre.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Open Gyre</a>. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have been having this conversation in my head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have been having this conversation in my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have been having this conversation with my beloved kindreds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>And this current stint here in the sprawling majesty of the Desert continually reaffirms this sentiment.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">No matter how I approach this concept, there is only one inevitable conclusion: IT is a Poly-All. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just Look at the breadth of diversity of all things in this incredible, vast Universe! I gasp!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Inner Space, Outer Space, both reaching, reaching, reaching <i>ad infinitum </i>with endless variations we can scarcely imagine<i>.</i></span></div>
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"<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There is a place with four suns in the sky — red, white, blue, and yellow; two of them are so close together that they touch, and star-stuff flows between them. I know of a world with a million moons. I know of a sun the size of the Earth — and made of diamond. There are atomic nuclei a few miles across which rotate thirty times a second. There are tiny grains between the stars, with the size and atomic composition of bacteria. There are stars leaving the Milky Way, and immense gas clouds falling into it. There are turbulent plasmas writhing with X- and gamma-rays and mighty stellar explosions. There are, perhaps, places which are outside our universe. The universe is vast and awesome, and for the first time we are becoming a part of it.</span></i>" -- Carl Sagan, <i>Planetary Exploration</i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">How can there reasonably be only One-Big-Beardy with a plan -- a plan which tends to the smallest details of our human lives? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">No.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This shit takes a team.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I imagine the layers of the Unseen are as magnificently complex, diverse & interlaced as those with which we interface daily being living organisms on our delicately balanced planet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I believe it is best to give credit to all the varied, beautiful & essential Parts of the System rather than try to mono-simplify things for the convenience & security of my little mammalian brain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As the Other-sides of Everything, the Spirits are equally diverse, "big" & "small." Our awareness can appreciate a scant few in the <a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/2012/02/scale-of-universe-bout-of-sciento.html" target="_blank">Great Scale of the Universe</a>, but none of Them are truly knowable. So we Love them as we can, from our human frameworks & proclivities. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And if you dig Big Beardy, this is a good thing. But I say it is folly to think for a moment that he is the only One. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-clFq24mdIrk/V1BxkVKkDzI/AAAAAAAAJkk/4Ki5P_cM9Rk7ex44nsw1TJnBRkci7tbBQCK4B/s1600/animism%2Btheism%2Bdiagram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Theism digram by Moma Fauna." border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-clFq24mdIrk/V1BxkVKkDzI/AAAAAAAAJkk/4Ki5P_cM9Rk7ex44nsw1TJnBRkci7tbBQCK4B/s320/animism%2Btheism%2Bdiagram.jpg" title="Theism digram by Moma Fauna." width="316" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/2012/04/theism-diagrams-animist-style.html" target="_blank">Theism digram</a> by Moma Fauna.</td></tr>
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-4974982982369754952016-05-20T11:02:00.000-08:002016-05-20T11:02:23.619-08:00Poetry for the Esbat: Two Moon, Not So Blue (May 2016)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vwk39Ks_cDE/Vz9PxqeXwdI/AAAAAAAAJhA/DjsDwli_xKIwmFeeQukwf6HCZBBbsYIiACKgB/s1600/The%2BMoon%252C%2BLover%2527s%2BTarot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="XVIII, The Moon. From The Lover's Tarot Deck by Jane Lyle. " border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vwk39Ks_cDE/Vz9PxqeXwdI/AAAAAAAAJhA/DjsDwli_xKIwmFeeQukwf6HCZBBbsYIiACKgB/s320/The%2BMoon%252C%2BLover%2527s%2BTarot.jpg" title="XVIII, The Moon. From The Lover's Tarot Deck by Jane Lyle. " width="311" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">XVIII, The Moon. <br />From The Lover's Tarot Deck by <a href="http://theastrologyroom.com/astrologers/jane-lyle" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Jane Lyle</a>. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Given my need to make up the difference this Esbat, it would be cleverly apropos if this coming Full Moon was indeed Blue, but <a href="http://www.space.com/32932-blue-moon-may-full-moon-name-2016.html" target="_blank">it really isn't exactly</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, I will still make my amends this month by including the poetry I had planned for last month's Esbat. This time, it's a "two-fer."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Many people-projects & collaborations have swirled around & about, unfurled their fronds & closed up shop in recent months. As I prepare to migrate once again, I breathe a sigh of relief. I yearn for the quiet stillness of the slumbering Desert, the Sunrise ritual of incense & coffee with <a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/2012/01/wolf-moonrise-over-breakfast-canyon.html" target="_blank">Breakfast Canyon</a>, the soft Darkness of <a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/p/nyx.html">Night's</a> starry cloak & of course, eye contact with The Moon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This should be a good time to reflect upon lessons. Lessons learned. Lessons observed. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Lessons digesting. </span><span style="font-size: large;">People critters, they are a curious lot. Sometimes it is a very good thing to step away from the fray & regain the Outsider's perspective.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">◦◦◦</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The poetry for this Esbat (& last) is about people-lessons. These poems can be understood in many ways, upon many layers, from many perspectives. Read & think. Think & read. Nothing is ever really as clear cut as we might prefer. Everything is an onion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And the Moon. Here, the Moon, She is the Teacher, the Initiator, the Instigator, not necessarily the distant (or close), cool (or warm), Object-of-Reverence as in so many of the devotional poems. But, I like this side of Her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last month's poem I snatched from the <a href="http://www.evolver.net/" target="_blank">Evolver Social Movement</a>'s feed. Unfortunately, there isn't any credit information for this piece & it has now become something of an internet meme, making it even more difficult to track it's author... but isn't that just the way of people critters? Lost sources aside, I cannot succinctly express all the layers of Life that I have discovered in this short piece, but I will say I have not yet stopped peeling away at it. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45OvNKCUENjRfzV1wdRzdFuyaEzib70e9WkHhf5yw5cybfA1x0dQTgWYzWBW3GN1EB07UOWO1m-an4FH0zF9xIaHZADABZNf9rj8dvYus48XFR1dy6Aw4Gr71bJpZ6tJm21Bh2GLgdf7p/s1600/Dimly+Lit+Stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""You lost her... (to) dimly lit stars." Credit unknown." border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45OvNKCUENjRfzV1wdRzdFuyaEzib70e9WkHhf5yw5cybfA1x0dQTgWYzWBW3GN1EB07UOWO1m-an4FH0zF9xIaHZADABZNf9rj8dvYus48XFR1dy6Aw4Gr71bJpZ6tJm21Bh2GLgdf7p/s320/Dimly+Lit+Stars.jpg" title=""You lost her... (to) dimly lit stars." Credit unknown." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"<i>You lost her... (to) dimly lit stars</i>." Credit unknown.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The poetry for this month's Full Moon has explicit source credit -- something I really dig. It also seems to demand that it be revisited repeatedly over a long period time. I have considering it for about a year now. I am not done. This piece from Rumi comes from a rare publication housed at <a href="http://www.lib.utah.edu/" target="_blank">Utah's Marriot Library</a>. (Isn't that just keen how the departure poetry matches the destination?):</span><br />
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"<i><a href="http://www.lib.utah.edu/collections/rarebooks/exhibits/past/MessengerOfThought.php" target="_blank">NEW RULE: A POEM BY RUMI</a><br />Sibyl Rubottom and Jim Machacek<br />San Diego, CA: Bay Park Press, 2000<br />N7433.4 R73 N49 2000<br />A flecked, navy wrapper is folded in three, housing the primary sheet which is, in turn, folded into three, unequal sections. Letterpress from Bodoni and Times Roman on Fabriano Rosaspina Bianco and Fox River Confetti wrapper. Images created using polymer plates, monotypes, linocut, and screen printing. Edition of forty-five copies. University of Utah copy is no. 19.</i>"</blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-kdjTkbWMk/Vz9PxPNrO_I/AAAAAAAAJhE/v2aM-TkAlSA2cbirpVuwbfBCPtHn-KYLACKgB/s1600/NEW%2BRULE-%2BA%2BPOEM%2BBY%2BRUMI%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="New Rule: A Poem By Rumi, illustrated by Sibyl Rubottom and Jim Machacek. " border="0" height="411" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-kdjTkbWMk/Vz9PxPNrO_I/AAAAAAAAJhE/v2aM-TkAlSA2cbirpVuwbfBCPtHn-KYLACKgB/s640/NEW%2BRULE-%2BA%2BPOEM%2BBY%2BRUMI%2B%25281%2529.jpg" title="New Rule: A Poem By Rumi, illustrated by Sibyl Rubottom and Jim Machacek. " width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.lib.utah.edu/collections/rarebooks/exhibits/past/MessengerOfThought.php" target="_blank">New Rule: A Poem By Rumi, illustrated by Sibyl Rubottom and Jim Machacek</a>. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Blessings to you this Esbat, my friends. </i></span><br />
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-57195667439422318852016-03-27T21:40:00.001-08:002016-05-09T16:06:56.460-08:00Wandering: Desperate Circus<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CUnpxvdd9XU/Vvg6-hmJdNI/AAAAAAAAJes/0wGQ0tEeiWssfmEhEEo0wzc4iIG523-aA/s1600/Clown%2BShow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Twilight over the Cook Inlet." border="0" height="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CUnpxvdd9XU/Vvg6-hmJdNI/AAAAAAAAJes/0wGQ0tEeiWssfmEhEEo0wzc4iIG523-aA/s400/Clown%2BShow.jpg" title="Twilight over the Cook Inlet." width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Twilight over the Cook Inlet.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With some trepidation I escorted my complicated companion to revisit the Place where Herne has made Himself recognized.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This was very much like a clown show or an early (or late) Trick or Treat: one behemoth of a Norseman "Pirate," one black hooded "Witch" & what might best be characterized as Professor Snape from the <i>Harry Potter</i> series.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Carrying three bottles of mead, a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shillelagh_(club)" target="_blank">shillelagh</a>, a very large <a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/oath-ring" target="_blank">Oath Ring</a> (from a tug boat line) & a drinking horn, I confess that I felt a bit sheepish in the daylight as hikers & tourists looked upon us with complete confusion. As they should.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This was not the time for Herne-hunting. I knew this well enough, but sometimes people are so desperate for connection that you just hold their hand & do your best at the art of damage control.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Along the arduously disorganized & delayed trek, many trees were loved & libated. Many words exchanged that would soon be forgotten. Don Quixote himself may have been channeled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This was a messy excursion by anyone's standards. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I squatted along the edge of the trail & listened to the one-eyed bear of a man extracting my slender, aching friend from the disappointingly vacant darkness of the forest, I could only say to myself, "<i>This is not the Way..."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But what isn't one person's Best Night might be another's. Later, I found myself alone in the still silence, facing Twilight, admiring the expanse of Sea & Sky divided by the horizon, unsure which side was the real side. Really, it didn't matter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And when I crept back through the dimming light to rejoin my party, I found them seated at the edge of the bluff, framed by sinewy trees & silhouetted against the golden horizon. From their deepest hearts & bellies they sang "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gv6A1V93rxo" target="_blank"><i>Helvegen</i></a>" in bittersweet harmony. I was enchanted -- it was just... breathtakingly beautiful. (Had it not been completely inappropriate, I would have secreted out my phone & filmed it.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I sat witness to this poignant scene until my legs cramped & my nose ran from the cold. I was finally relieved to see the Heathen's bulky shape rise & turn to me. Now would be the time to complete my own Work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Down to the water we went, leaving the saddest member to wait on the bluff. He could never have managed the descent. The large man who followed me down the familiar trail was nothing graceful himself, sliding on the ice & crashing through the naked undergrowth. I could have managed very well alone, but we are trained as women in this society to distrust the condition of alone-in-the-dark (even when realistically, it might be the safer -- for everyone). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The tide was high & the Ice ran right up to the water, dropping off abruptly. It made for awkward gyrations, but I did my cleansing & offerings as though atop an ice float at the edge of the smoothest Ocean surface imaginable. My dips made arcs which replicated across the water ad infinitum, playing the shadow against the last of the light. Nyx's starry cloak was surprisingly clear, in spite of the yellowing Anchorage glow. Perfect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was expedient, but not unceremonious. In general, I Work from the hip & this instance was no different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In short time we returned to the bench on the bluff, only to find that our companion had disappeared, leaving the horn crushed, a bottle shattered & the Oath Ring cast aside.</span> <span style="font-size: large;">He was to have his own adventures, or misadventures, to which we (mercifully) would not be witness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is a very fine line between opening up & forcing the doors. Most of us have managed to err on the side of boorish & unproductive from time to time. Yet I find that the gods will still give us chances.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The trick is to learn from, not repeat, these mistakes & never to presume that we can force a "mystical experience." </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">***</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today, idling in the chill winds of an incoming storm, I stood alone with my brooding friend in a different forest. In the aftermath, I recalled to him the events of the evening which had been hopelessly lost to him. As I mentioned his entreaty to Herne -- how he stopped at precisely the right place, poured his mead & entered his own lonely chaos -- he nudged me & said, "<i>Do you see the moose?</i>" Looking up, I spotted a long legged beauty, making her way around the Alder only a short distance from us. She watched us calmly, intently & we remained silent as she unhurriedly wandered around & away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I looked up at him & said, "<i>See, you just <u>mention</u> Herne & there you go.</i>"</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x8lEO_jFmKs/Vvg6-VYncnI/AAAAAAAAJeo/vC35-1v2D3EAfyQbT6ymljVpeR0z_0gUw/s1600/Clown%2BShow2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The (sometimes desperate) path of so many secrets." border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x8lEO_jFmKs/Vvg6-VYncnI/AAAAAAAAJeo/vC35-1v2D3EAfyQbT6ymljVpeR0z_0gUw/s400/Clown%2BShow2.jpg" title="The (sometimes desperate) path of so many secrets." width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The (sometimes desperate) path <br />of so many secrets.</span></td></tr>
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-62722732550492760672016-03-23T12:22:00.001-08:002016-03-23T16:58:14.350-08:00Poetry for the Esbat: Flow Moon, 2016<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IjJXROBc4ns/VvLmgWpmz4I/AAAAAAAAJeE/2chekTP5I9Urjw-gOWIi-gVlsbnJoQUvQ/s1600/u_sea-pod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Dancer Delilah (Flynn) crafting her Art, underwater." border="0" height="206" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IjJXROBc4ns/VvLmgWpmz4I/AAAAAAAAJeE/2chekTP5I9Urjw-gOWIi-gVlsbnJoQUvQ/s320/u_sea-pod.jpg" title="Dancer Delilah (Flynn) crafting her Art, underwater." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dancer <a href="http://visionarydance.com/delilah/about-delilah/" target="_blank">Delilah</a> (Flynn) crafting her Art, underwater.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is a powerful synthesis happening. Strands of my life way, my cosmology, my relationships, my body, which did not seem to connect now find themselves intimately woven in the most sensible ways.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Everything keeps making sense & that is just a bit freakish.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">○○○</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the past, when asked about whether I would be willing to "teach," I replied, "<i>I only teach my accident</i>." It was a gentle way to decline. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But <a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/2015/12/poetry-for-esbat-this-cold-december.html" target="_blank">strange things & strange persons</a> happen. And sometimes, they change the rules. Or, perhaps they unveil rules you never knew existed. And in this change or unveiling, I began to teach. Of course, it has not been in the manner to which I originally consented or anticipated, but isn't that just the way of things?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Flow</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of my True Loves is Sigil Magick. Yet being a critter of much privilege & little for which to want, my practice of the Arte is often lacking impetus. Perhaps this is why I needed to teach the art to others. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here on this Esbat I find myself working out the last details of a </span><span style="font-size: large;">traditional Golden Dawn style talisman for presentation -- but also for myself -- the pieces of which seem to be attempting to tie my worlds together. The focus of this talisman, in brief, is <i>Flow</i>. Hence the card for this Esbat, "<i>Going with the Flow</i>," the Ace of Water from the <a href="http://www.osho.com/iosho/zen-tarot/paradox" target="_blank">Osho Zen Tarot</a> -- a deck I discovered while working on this particular project. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S3i_YAT1occ/VvLmf4RzruI/AAAAAAAAJeM/gafR9Ic9loAiOzc73G4bfGKx0O2s7RBXQ/s1600/Osho%2BZen%2BTarot%252C%2BAce%2Bof%2BWater.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S3i_YAT1occ/VvLmf4RzruI/AAAAAAAAJeM/gafR9Ic9loAiOzc73G4bfGKx0O2s7RBXQ/s200/Osho%2BZen%2BTarot%252C%2BAce%2Bof%2BWater.png" width="134" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ace of Water, Osho Zen Tarot.</td></tr>
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"<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The figure in this card is completely relaxed and at ease in the water, letting it take him where it will. He has mastered the art of being passive and receptive without being dull or sleepy. He is just available to the currents of life, with never a thought of saying "I don't like that," or "I prefer to go the other way."</span></i></blockquote>
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Every moment in life we have a choice whether to enter life's waters and float, or to try to swim upstream. When this card appears in a reading it is an indication that you are able to float now, trusting that life will support you in your relaxation and take you exactly where it wants you to go. Allow this feeling of trust and relaxation to grow more and more; everything is happening exactly as it should.</span></i>" -- <a href="http://www.osho.com/iosho/zen-tarot/paradox" target="_blank">OZT</a></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And isn't that just so very apropos for this Lunar occasion?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Concurrently, my studies in dance have been directed at this subject of Flow & somehow (ha!) this brought me to discover the underwater dance images of American belly dancer <a href="http://visionarydance.com/delilah/about-delilah/" target="_blank">Delilah</a>:</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V5BlK63zmoU/VvLmeP7RdSI/AAAAAAAAJeM/YCGAn6-LHjouHbnlSgck3294qCY7ehHxw/s1600/u-golden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dancer Delilah (Flynn) crafting her Art, underwater." border="0" height="208" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V5BlK63zmoU/VvLmeP7RdSI/AAAAAAAAJeM/YCGAn6-LHjouHbnlSgck3294qCY7ehHxw/s320/u-golden.jpg" title="Dancer Delilah (Flynn) crafting her Art, underwater." width="320" /></a><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rHKA3JRDCxM/VvLmgG78RMI/AAAAAAAAJeM/-_mCiyVpGB8MJ0nObngdRSFbuRoQesqbw/s1600/u_priestess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dancer Delilah (Flynn) crafting her Art, underwater." border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rHKA3JRDCxM/VvLmgG78RMI/AAAAAAAAJeM/-_mCiyVpGB8MJ0nObngdRSFbuRoQesqbw/s200/u_priestess.jpg" title="Dancer Delilah (Flynn) crafting her Art, underwater." width="148" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Her flowing (quite literally) being so illustrative of a condition I seek to realize for myself.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2AYRz8jJMFypTjGW32AjdbwJevabUoX91JviruCd_ct0ZOo_QuIIAf1JJuQygRAw11DbChs7pybk9sdaM5G_bUPxC9OZmUoVi-APrnIB4ZLMLztr-67aTQPcDTaZmjAH5zTyvufszQz4/s1600/Copper+Blue+Veil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Moma Fauna working on Flow" border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2AYRz8jJMFypTjGW32AjdbwJevabUoX91JviruCd_ct0ZOo_QuIIAf1JJuQygRAw11DbChs7pybk9sdaM5G_bUPxC9OZmUoVi-APrnIB4ZLMLztr-67aTQPcDTaZmjAH5zTyvufszQz4/s320/Copper+Blue+Veil.jpg" title="Moma Fauna working on Flow" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not only in Dance, but in Life. (And are they not the same thing?)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">○○○</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This brings me to the poetry for this Esbat. In keeping with all the flowing & synthesizing & surrendering, I present a poem I have been sitting on (in my <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/mobile/" target="_blank">Poetry Foundation App</a>) for several years now. The reasons for this I do not know, perhaps it was just not time. If I am honest with myself, </span><span style="font-size: large;">I actually think I never quite understood it completely -- until now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">[As if the moon could haul through you],</span> by <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/neil-fischer" target="_blank">Neil Fischer</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As if the moon could haul through you</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Its tremor of light and stone,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be cleared of sound. Plough</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The mind's noise until it's a shine</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the purl of south-bending river that bears</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Itself toward a blacker part of the forest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you hum, hum through the motes of air,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps your nerves will find at last</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A tone to which they will succumb.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be still. Be not so heavy-hearted</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For a moment. All is not a tomb,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blind sarcophagus staring dumb, thwarted</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pleasures nailed inside. These fireflies</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sweep their tracings on the evening.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Weep if you must, but board what falls</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Away, abdomens flaring—</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The brief, nomadic intervals.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you this Esbat, my friends.</span></div>
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Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-17006348943390650672016-03-19T16:55:00.003-08:002016-03-19T16:56:20.208-08:00Wandering: More Lessons in Seeing & Perspectivism<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Xw9-JGK1D4/Vu2tTuGkE-I/AAAAAAAAJbY/Q36ner2lgQM_7bpwqfVFl8hDgnlwe02JA/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Xw9-JGK1D4/Vu2tTuGkE-I/AAAAAAAAJbY/Q36ner2lgQM_7bpwqfVFl8hDgnlwe02JA/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures01.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="180" /></a><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fGoSnGTMc2o/Vu2tZQ0_3cI/AAAAAAAAJb4/BCRVCJ7oW2gCZCRMADCRq4Nis4Mk0SBbg/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fGoSnGTMc2o/Vu2tZQ0_3cI/AAAAAAAAJb4/BCRVCJ7oW2gCZCRMADCRq4Nis4Mk0SBbg/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures08.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="180" /></a></div>
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“<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.</span></i>”</div>
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― Anaïs Nin, “Seduction of the Minotaur”</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As the ice has begun breaking up so very early, we chose to resume our habit of wandering. This time, we ventured to <a href="http://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=viewinglocations.pointworonzof" target="_blank">Point Wornzoff</a> & found an unexpected lesson in the art of seeing. Or is it understanding?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We descended the steep grade onto the beach & were taken aback by the number of people there -- it was uncharacteristically populated, crowded even. The voice of one of the Little Lad's friends chimed from below & a small hand waved about frantically from the relative throng. But a after a moment of focus, it became clear that more than half of the beach's population stood silent, unmoving & they spread far down the beach, away from where most humans choose to venture...</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xajepq3SEis/Vu2tdk4CGMI/AAAAAAAAJdY/N1aXccEbsR0twE3VrAo8HTR-eaSvgeyEQ/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="115" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xajepq3SEis/Vu2tdk4CGMI/AAAAAAAAJdY/N1aXccEbsR0twE3VrAo8HTR-eaSvgeyEQ/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures13.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What I immediately noticed was that these frozen persons might have been more alive -- more real -- than most people that move & breathe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And I found myself absolutely captivated by the beauty & horror of this collection of persons. Completely faceless, yet so expressive it pained me.</span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zVV7gxNxIU8/Vu2tqjHnmpI/AAAAAAAAJdg/dCpX6kQvslg_2lCgOzn2i7P95PS6aVZKA/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zVV7gxNxIU8/Vu2tqjHnmpI/AAAAAAAAJdg/dCpX6kQvslg_2lCgOzn2i7P95PS6aVZKA/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures24.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fve9csq3imk/Vu2tvQ2wryI/AAAAAAAAJdg/J1BvNg-LaqMiwdh9uVX1_yLnOSC7EtBiQ/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fve9csq3imk/Vu2tvQ2wryI/AAAAAAAAJdg/J1BvNg-LaqMiwdh9uVX1_yLnOSC7EtBiQ/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures29.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UsXsrg--lKs/Vu2twSk5wjI/AAAAAAAAJdg/ASQGXz_IG8gNjXBv8OMeDAOjrrIGlCLPw/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="190" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UsXsrg--lKs/Vu2twSk5wjI/AAAAAAAAJdg/ASQGXz_IG8gNjXBv8OMeDAOjrrIGlCLPw/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures30.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And of course, we had need to speculate on their origin, their stories, the meaning of this collection of personalities constructed of burlap, straw, concrete & rebar, lavishly strewn across the ice without explanation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My husband felt they were post mortem sculptures of real people -- a most unusual memorial service.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZlccWJfkdY/Vu2tYlg5eKI/AAAAAAAAJdY/_PPBbU3ktocxVMpoFJDFitU07R7YK20sA/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZlccWJfkdY/Vu2tYlg5eKI/AAAAAAAAJdY/_PPBbU3ktocxVMpoFJDFitU07R7YK20sA/s400/Wornzoff%2BSculptures09.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tOMQl97cOB4/Vu2tXmeHd1I/AAAAAAAAJdY/1iOFIfU-gHsdIEMqoKVVgJ60UIOF7cdAg/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tOMQl97cOB4/Vu2tXmeHd1I/AAAAAAAAJdY/1iOFIfU-gHsdIEMqoKVVgJ60UIOF7cdAg/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures07.jpg" width="180" /></a><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yK2X-7x6ZqI/Vu2tW6CWWtI/AAAAAAAAJdY/7YN36fqL2FQ99-U3OEa9oH4UPR6kdf4aw/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yK2X-7x6ZqI/Vu2tW6CWWtI/AAAAAAAAJdY/7YN36fqL2FQ99-U3OEa9oH4UPR6kdf4aw/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures06.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I could not shake the feeling that I was standing among the crypts in the Tarot's Judgement card & felt a curious need to move among them with caution -- never to touch their cold yet very alive bodies.</span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kToAuNdI-V8/Vu2teuOxzII/AAAAAAAAJdY/spUBoncSunYpkDpd73lR0Empko_amYyYQ/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="176" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kToAuNdI-V8/Vu2teuOxzII/AAAAAAAAJdY/spUBoncSunYpkDpd73lR0Empko_amYyYQ/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures14.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EZFxYwhD2j4/Vu2tm-Jcu_I/AAAAAAAAJdY/t6-QzDSH9IkKZo0ruYcTsqFUZDYCut_gg/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="216" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EZFxYwhD2j4/Vu2tm-Jcu_I/AAAAAAAAJdY/t6-QzDSH9IkKZo0ruYcTsqFUZDYCut_gg/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures22.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3oe1r-flZbg/Vu2thG2vN2I/AAAAAAAAJdY/bd_btw6QyzM6IQxxCyPte304VpGzB-rGQ/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures, Point Wornzoff, 2016" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3oe1r-flZbg/Vu2thG2vN2I/AAAAAAAAJdY/bd_btw6QyzM6IQxxCyPte304VpGzB-rGQ/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures17.jpg" title="Sculptures, Point Wornzoff, 2016" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Whatever they were, are, they made their indelible impression. They changed us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn't until later in the week when I learned what these sculptures "really mean," or rather, what the artist intended for them. Across a steamy hot tub a friend explained in her chirpy Moldovan voice that they are the <i>Faces of Depression</i>...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can see that. I even <i>understand</i> that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can also see a memorial </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">& a Last Judgement </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">& even a <i>memento mori</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I see much more than that, but I will keep that close, without further elaboration, as I prefer to leave the seeing & the knowing & the understanding to each person & their Selfs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So much of the Magic of Life lies in the perspective of our Be-ing.</span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qi34OeNB9KA/Vu2tydTWHXI/AAAAAAAAJdg/eI-cd_bhOH4xn5w4JhEK-4tyGaZDiGc3g/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qi34OeNB9KA/Vu2tydTWHXI/AAAAAAAAJdg/eI-cd_bhOH4xn5w4JhEK-4tyGaZDiGc3g/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures32.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iMKcksm4U98/Vu2tx58zTXI/AAAAAAAAJdg/BoLKZWtu_EEr0MDQi8muc2mD4GgDJggFA/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iMKcksm4U98/Vu2tx58zTXI/AAAAAAAAJdg/BoLKZWtu_EEr0MDQi8muc2mD4GgDJggFA/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures31.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hVVzorc0DQs/Vu2trO-AKOI/AAAAAAAAJdg/ESbD8ztH7fs4X2R3EeJGmp_43xzae8WpQ/s1600/Wornzoff%2BSculptures25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" border="0" height="237" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hVVzorc0DQs/Vu2trO-AKOI/AAAAAAAAJdg/ESbD8ztH7fs4X2R3EeJGmp_43xzae8WpQ/s320/Wornzoff%2BSculptures25.jpg" title="Sculptures at Point Wornzoff, March 2016" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-35675276554552526922016-03-04T17:56:00.001-09:002017-02-03T11:44:21.622-09:00Nyx Scraps: Installment II<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It seems that my devotional pages -- "<a href="http://moma-fauna.blogspot.com/p/nyx.html">NYX, Νύξ, Nox: Primordial Mother</a>" in particular -- have some benefit to people out there in the ether. Although I choose not to sculpt my writing to the tastes of others, I do maintain as part of my mission to promote human relationships with the Old Ones. So here I announce new additions to the Nyx page with updates to Hypnos & the Oneiroi to follow in subsequent days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am uncertain how I overlooked posting this version of the Orphic Hymn #3 to Nyx. This translation, by Apostolos N. Athanassakis is by far my favourite & is the one I use when I read Her hymn.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I shall sing of Night, Mother of gods and men.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Night- and let us call her Kypris- gave birth to all.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hearken, O blessed goddess, jet-black and star-lit,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Whose delight is in quiet and slumber-filled serenity.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Cheerful and delightsome, O mother of dreams, you love the nightlong revel,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And your gentleness rids of cares, and offers respite from toil.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Giver of sleep, beloved of all you are, as you drive your steeds and gleam in darkness.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Ever incomplete, now terrestrial and now again celestial,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You circle around in pursuit of sprightly phantoms,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You force light into the nether world, and again you flee into Hades.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Dreadful Necessity governs all things.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But now, O blessed one, yea beatific and desired by all,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I call on you to grant a kind ear to my voice of supplication,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And benevolent, come to disperse fears that glisten in the dark.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">-- Orphic Hymn #3 To Nyx, Translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis, 1977</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">More works for the visually inclined:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(<i>Note: while I prefer more the more traditional renderings of Nyx, I am slowly discovering & including nontraditional pieces which I feel honour Her in a manner fitting Her distinction.</i>)</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mN_F5T90V6E/Vto8retymUI/AAAAAAAAJZs/yufi9dj7mdE/s1600/Allegiria%2Bde%2Bla%2BNit%252C%2BPalau%2Bde%2BCervello%25CC%25811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Allegoria de la Nit Artist uncertain. Palau de Cervelló, ballroom ceiling." border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mN_F5T90V6E/Vto8retymUI/AAAAAAAAJZs/yufi9dj7mdE/s320/Allegiria%2Bde%2Bla%2BNit%252C%2BPalau%2Bde%2BCervello%25CC%25811.jpg" title="Allegoria de la Nit Artist uncertain. Palau de Cervelló, ballroom ceiling." width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Allegoria de la Nit</i><br />Artist uncertain.<br /><a href="https://ca.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palau_de_Cervell%C3%B3" target="_blank">Palau de Cervelló</a>, ballroom ceiling.<br /><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Palau_de_Cervell%C3%B3,_al%C2%B7legoria_de_la_nit.JPG" target="_blank">Wikicommons image</a> edited by Moma Fauna.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S0xmsszhXLk/VtpIG9jibiI/AAAAAAAAJac/_IkGDdGd4R4/s1600/Joachim_von_Sandrart%252C%2BAllegory%2Bof%2BNight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Allegory of Night Joachim von Sandrart, German, circa 1654-1656 Oil on canvas. Vienna, Austria, Kunsthistorisches Museum." border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S0xmsszhXLk/VtpIG9jibiI/AAAAAAAAJac/_IkGDdGd4R4/s320/Joachim_von_Sandrart%252C%2BAllegory%2Bof%2BNight.jpg" title="Allegory of Night Joachim von Sandrart, German, circa 1654-1656 Oil on canvas. Vienna, Austria, Kunsthistorisches Museum." width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Allegory of Night</i><br /><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joachim_von_Sandrart" target="_blank">Joachim von Sandrart</a>, German, circa 1654-1656<br />Oil on canvas.<br />Vienna, Austria, <a href="https://www.khm.at/en/" target="_blank">Kunsthistorisches Museum</a>.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HHwMRXP7FsI/VtoyESjuG4I/AAAAAAAAJZA/glpfbnC9Es8/s1600/Edward_Okun%25CC%2581_-_Chimera_1903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Noc Edward Okuń, Polish, 1903 From the Polish publication, Chimera." border="0" height="211" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HHwMRXP7FsI/VtoyESjuG4I/AAAAAAAAJZA/glpfbnC9Es8/s320/Edward_Okun%25CC%2581_-_Chimera_1903.jpg" title="Noc Edward Okuń, Polish, 1903 From the Polish publication, Chimera." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Noc</i><br /><a href="https://pl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Oku%C5%84" target="_blank">Edward Okuń</a>, Polish, 1903<br />From the Polish publication, <i><a href="https://pl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimera_(czasopismo)" target="_blank">Chimera</a></i>.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VysXN3CHYO8/Vto_sNCvNgI/AAAAAAAAJZ4/_9sowDxPNw0/s1600/Stratton%2BIllus.%252C%2BMother%2Band%2BNight.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VysXN3CHYO8/Vto_sNCvNgI/AAAAAAAAJZ4/_9sowDxPNw0/s320/Stratton%2BIllus.%252C%2BMother%2Band%2BNight.png" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Caption: THE MOTHER THEN WRUNG HER HANDS, WEPT, AND SANG.</i><br />Helen Stratton, British Illustrator, (1867–1961)<br />"<i>...sing me all the songs you used to sing your child. <br />I am fond of those songs. I have heard them before. <br />I am Night; and I saw your tears flowing while you sang them.</i>"<br />From <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Fairy_Tales_of_Hans_Christian_Andersen_(Stratton)/The_Story_of_a_Mother" target="_blank">The Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen</a>, courtesy <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Main_Page" target="_blank">WikiSource</a>.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VysHdIswL78/Vto3PoPov5I/AAAAAAAAJZM/TskDlJQLNbk/s1600/Allegory%2Bof%2BNight%252C%2BPaul%2BAichele.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Allegory of Night Paul Aichele, German, 1859-1910 Bronze & marble." border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VysHdIswL78/Vto3PoPov5I/AAAAAAAAJZM/TskDlJQLNbk/s320/Allegory%2Bof%2BNight%252C%2BPaul%2BAichele.jpg" title="Allegory of Night Paul Aichele, German, 1859-1910 Bronze & marble." width="245" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Allegory of Night</i><br /><a href="https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Aichele" target="_blank">Paul Aichele</a>, German, 1859-1910<br />Bronze & marble.<br />Figure sold at auction via <a href="https://www.liveauctioneers.com/item/119308_allegory-of-night-paul-aichele-german-1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">liveauctioneers.com</a>.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-94f23X2TuBA/Vto4k5r-vYI/AAAAAAAAJZY/wQapYF-Hwbg/s1600/Night%252C%2BCesare%2BLapini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Night Cesare Lapini, Italian, 1898 White marble. " border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-94f23X2TuBA/Vto4k5r-vYI/AAAAAAAAJZY/wQapYF-Hwbg/s200/Night%252C%2BCesare%2BLapini.jpg" title="Night Cesare Lapini, Italian, 1898 White marble. " width="150" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cb92d_zf3lM/Vto44wOP2eI/AAAAAAAAJZc/A8WMBpchySc/s1600/Night%2B2%252C%2BCesare%2BLapini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Night Cesare Lapini, Italian, 1898 White marble." border="0" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cb92d_zf3lM/Vto44wOP2eI/AAAAAAAAJZc/A8WMBpchySc/s200/Night%2B2%252C%2BCesare%2BLapini.jpg" title="Night Cesare Lapini, Italian, 1898 White marble. " width="128" /></a></div>
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<i>Night</i></div>
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<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cesare_Lapini" target="_blank">Cesare Lapini</a>, Italian, 1898</div>
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White marble.</div>
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Figure sold at auction via <a href="https://www.liveauctioneers.com/item/5466159_cesare-lapini-white-marble-bust-woman-night" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">liveauctioneers.com</a>.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e8v60xoPHfk/VtpKdSJ4txI/AAAAAAAAJao/UVI4Z1ywf1I/s1600/The%2BNight%252C%2BNatalia%2BDrepina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The Night Natalia Drepina, Russia." border="0" height="290" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e8v60xoPHfk/VtpKdSJ4txI/AAAAAAAAJao/UVI4Z1ywf1I/s320/The%2BNight%252C%2BNatalia%2BDrepina.jpg" title="The Night Natalia Drepina, Russia." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Night</i><br /><a href="http://nataliadrepina.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">Natalia Drepina</a>, Russia.<br />Purchase a print at the artist's <a href="http://nataliadrepina.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">DeviantArt</a> page.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q-H_X2sxP3Q/VtpDtJ9Zy1I/AAAAAAAAJaQ/q8wAeSDte9I/s1600/Nyx%252C%2BGoddess%2Bof%2BNight%252C%2BYoann%2BLossel.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Nyx, Goddess of Night Yoann Lossel, France." border="0" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q-H_X2sxP3Q/VtpDtJ9Zy1I/AAAAAAAAJaQ/q8wAeSDte9I/s320/Nyx%252C%2BGoddess%2Bof%2BNight%252C%2BYoann%2BLossel.png" title="Nyx, Goddess of Night Yoann Lossel, France." width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Nyx, Goddess of Night</i><br /><a href="http://yoannlossel.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Yoann Lossel</a>, France.<br />Visit the artist's <a href="http://yoann-lossel.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">DeviantArt</a>, <a href="http://yoannlossel.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Blog</a> or <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/yoannlossel" target="_blank">Etsy</a> pages.</span></td></tr>
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807299091001611550.post-15087648605175496392016-02-27T12:08:00.000-09:002016-03-05T13:58:28.100-09:00On Seeing. (Microcosm/Macrocosm. Self/Universe.) <br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">"<i><b>I’ve never loved myself the way I do now.</b></i>" </span></blockquote>
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-- Joana Saahirah, <a href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/02/the-alchemists-stone-gratitude-for-the-wisdom-of-a-changing-body/" target="_blank">The Alchemist's Stone: Gratitude for the Wisdom of a Changing Body</a>.</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She said to me (& I paraphrase), '<i>We need to be in our bodies as they are, right now. Not the way they once were, or the way we imagine them to be in some uncertain future, because that is not what we have to work with as dancers/humans. Our envisioned "ideal" does not exist. We only have our bodies as they are <b>right now </b>-- they will not be the same in a day, a week or even an hour. Work with what you have in this very moment, not a projection of something that does not exist. Know your creative tool as it is -- its strengths & limitations & use them.</i>' </span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Isp3kx8uJG4/VtICuvR_wlI/AAAAAAAAJYU/o-mCwVlBahI/s1600/Body%2BStudy7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Isp3kx8uJG4/VtICuvR_wlI/AAAAAAAAJYU/o-mCwVlBahI/s200/Body%2BStudy7.jpg" width="141" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hKSigvU7p64/VtICuH87i5I/AAAAAAAAJYQ/siB2qMo-aMs/s1600/Body%2BStudy6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hKSigvU7p64/VtICuH87i5I/AAAAAAAAJYQ/siB2qMo-aMs/s200/Body%2BStudy6.jpg" width="141" /></a><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qmHYNagUgHw/VtICumk8rFI/AAAAAAAAJYY/8ojjiLxePs8/s1600/Body%2BStudy8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qmHYNagUgHw/VtICumk8rFI/AAAAAAAAJYY/8ojjiLxePs8/s200/Body%2BStudy8.jpg" width="139" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was an enormous turning point the first time I actually <i><u>saw myself</u></i> dancing. One might say, '<i>Moma, this is not rocket science...'</i> but the truth of the matter is that it took over two years of study before I was able to see this. Prior to that, I always pictured my teachers or someone else executing my choreography assignments (even as I did them); floating the veil, traveling the steps, rotating the hips, using the propulsive power of the arms... </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Unawares, I always followed the image of another, so when I saw <u style="font-style: italic;">myself</u> for the very first time, it was an overwhelming epiphany. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the trick is, <i>we have to keep looking</i>, because we change constantly. Every time I watch the critter that is <i>me</i>, I experience a strange & overwhelming sense of horror & wonder -- in part because I never see the same person. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I examine & reexamine myself in this manner (as I now <i>must</i>), I realize how vitally important it is to the entire human spiritual ecosystem. It is not just about dancing & assessing the damage or progress. It is about <i>Everything</i>. </span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: large;">"<i><b>That which is Below corresponds to that which is Above, and that which is Above corresponds to that which is Below, to accomplish the miracle of the One Thing.</b></i>"</span> </blockquote>
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-- Hermes Trismegistus (Dennis W. Hauck, trans.), <i style="color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.sacred-texts.com/alc/emerald.htm" target="_blank">The Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus</a></span></i></blockquote>
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<br />Moma Faunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13656419605056782629noreply@blogger.com4