the sweet faces of the dancers that were a part of honoring my prayer were here from Canada in the sweat lodge praying and speaking about the dance, the warmth of the water coming off the rocks in a sweet steam that smelled of medicne and healing wafted towards them wrpping around each of them n a soft spiritual loving way. his face looked at her from accross the lodge and he smiled.she loved him.
she thought about people she knew in there, prayed for them, people on Kauai, people in clatskanie, people n the past, people in the present, and the way things seem to work out like a long story that unfolds, sometimes with twists that resemble a tree at sunrise, the light making the edges glow.there is much to think about in times like this.
later while listening to Floater and watching future generations dancing from above at the roseland and some pretty incredible film in the back ground, she thought bak to pink floyd and being pregnant with her now 26 year old son, so beautiful.
later frozen in Italy, her second son was born.
sitting in a very strange place called the tik tok on new years eating after the show, a salad. sometimes fanatasy does not become reality. sometimes it does.
she thought about beautiful young Tara, a girl that lived with them because her father was an addict and could not handle her. she wondered what ever became of her.
perhaps gong back to sleep, her husband just having gone to work was the best idea.
the new year would surely bring on a new set of prayers, new adventures, and a way to love that which at times seem impossiblecannot lie to yourself.
painting brings colors of a world which is so illusive that this one seems rather temporary
the body seems to be so fragile sometimes
the heart radiates and skin fluctuates
and saturated with adjectives and metaphors
the brain slows down and the two worlds meet in dreamtime
rarely is there enough time
to understand all that is being said by the spirits
tangle in the communication lines
like hair in the lipstick
