Indigenous Peoples Day

Here are a few posts which share in this day of celebration…

Excerpt From To Ride A Painted Pony Wild

All life was fresh, new and exciting. Elton and Bernie were our insightful friends. Experiencing nature and reading stories about the lifecycles of American Indians is who we were. Our horses were part of this mystery as well. Whom we were all together was important to us and our horses were everything. Bernie and Elton’s song Indian Sunset off their Madman Across the Water album was our warrior song.

Often, we rode barefoot. When cold we had our parents’ go shopping to buy us moccasins. We read about the history of the Medicine Wheel and experimented with our innocent religiosity.

The Medicine Wheel is based on the wisdom of the Native American belief. The four directions of nature are part of the medicine wheel circle representing the four seasons.

While riding we carried a compass to know which direction we traveled. Spring is the direction of the east which is also the time of brave eagle. Summer is the direction south which is time of trickster coyote. Autumn is the direction west. This is the time of retrospective bear in his cave or sometimes owl and the setting full moon. Winter is the direction north and is time of wise buffalo.

We were robust girls misfiled along a line of make believe. We used our imagination, developed our spirituality and because of our horses, we united these two qualities into an earthy reality.

Proclamation Indigenous Peoples Day

Cheers to Tito, books out @ Pre-orders…

“When you’ve jumped the fence into the bath

we will understand if you have the last laugh.

Just as things seem as they were before,

down with the field up with the air conditioner.”

~GBH Forbidden Zone.

Before we got our new fence it was a forbidden zone for our cats. The fence had holes and was leaning over into the neighbor’s yard. To make a long story short we decided to just go ahead and fix it with a new fence…

“A flash of lightning. Dionysus becomes visible in emerald beauty.”

~ Pg. 65 Dithyrambs of Dionysus / Friedrich Nietzsche  

No longer a forbidden zone, it once was a dark night when the rains came with lightning and took our Football kitty away from us. Was it the hole in the fence and the neighbor’s German Shepherd? Was it the nasty drug dealer now gone due to the dumb bloke being taken away by the police? Or was it an alien mutation … it sure looked like one. If you do not know what I mean look it up? Finally, it could have been the other side fence that is also now new. It was replaced a couple of years ago. A jump over by local twister trickster coyote? Coyote told me this,

“Nope not me.”

What was once a forbidden zone is not forbidden anymore.

This autumn has its forbidden zones. I must be honest my once explored forbidden zones have become zones of good fruits of wonder.

I am turned on because a hearty harvest has come in. It feels good. Here are some projects I’ve been part of. Here is the harvest…

Where The Wild Gigs Were –~ Tim Hinely & Friends, HoZac Books.

New Wave Chicken, Steve Hart, Art Issue, Fluke Publishing,

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FORBIDDEN BEATS S.W. Lauden, out on Rare Bird Books.

I must say the “wheeling and dealing” is fun and sometimes hope filled activating. A learning experience. Contributing in a new way I am like our new red western cedar dog ear fence.

I am shining from the inside out.

The back door man is not someone I deal with … it is all up and up now.

It is amazing when a major film company takes the time to mail you an original designed t-shirt. It feels nice to be valued and treated with respect.

So, the new fence got some dirt, mulch and a couple of lavender plants.

Universal Pictures Feature Production, Universal Pictures is in production on a theatrical horror motion picture by Jordan Peele (Get Out, Us).

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Tito Larriva Los Plugs. Oct/8/2021 Origin ID-AHCA Alex Bovaird t-shirt.

Ode to Hawk and Sabrina

Sung by the crones of many-colored scarfs.

Sabrina’s red scarf hung on the tip of the crescent moon. As her leather dress slid off her and fell below towards the earth. Hawk and Sabrina relaxed together on the curve of the moon. The light and darkness of the crescent moon held the two lovers together bound by her. Setting into the night. Nothing was hidden from Hawk and Sabrina anymore. What was revealed, what was once hidden, was their love. Two hearts, a crescendo of love that would grow with the full autumn moon.

Episode one – four…

Available at kindle vella

The Ash tree story.

The Wabanaki Indian tribes, who craft their baskets from ash splints, have a tradition that humans were first created from black ash trees as well. The Chitimacha Indians believed ash was poisonous to rattlesnakes and would use ash canes to drive away snakes. Some Great Plains tribes, such as the Ponca, used green ash wood instead of cottonwood for their sacred Sun Dance poles. ~

An Ash tree is being cut down tomorrow in our neighborhood. My neighbor told me so as she walked by one evening while I was outside.  Shock quickly ran throughout my body as a strange sad sensation.

From my yard I can see the Ash tree. It’s been home to hawks and ravens and many other animals over the years. It is a family of two other giant Ash trees on our neighbor’s property.

We too have one in our front yard which stands about 12 feet. It is only a two-year-old. Our gardener and I are watching the tree closely. It is being trimmed and we will not let it get too big or start the process of spreading its multitude of seeds.

We now also have a fence on either side of our yard of Ash trees that are groomed to be just that.

Today I walked by the neighbor’s home and talked to her about the tree. It was growing into their homes foundation and there are issues of telephone and electrical lines. I told her.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying a prayer for the tree. I know of the hawk and ravens who live there.”

We agreed it was the best thing to do. I walked away happy. Then this story revealed itself to me.

The Ash tree story.

My parents planted an Ash tree near their home the day one of my brother’s was born. He is two years older than I.

Growing up with that Ash tree is something I sure did enjoy. Out of my parent’s second story house I often looked out at the tree throughout the seasons. There once were some steps that ran by the tree from the hill down to the home yard below.

As the years went by seeds from this tree blew over to the other side of their house. An Ash tree grew wild there a few feet away from the carport. The carport was above their house since they lived on a hill.  

I was pregnant with my second boy when the mother Ash was cut down. Seems the Ash tree was on the border between to property lines.

I threatened to tie myself to the tree so it would not happen.

I had countless arguments with builders and my parents yet could not stop it from being cut down, Dad and mom agreed to it being cut and taken away. They kept tree wood for their fireplace.

I grieved the tree for a long time.

About ten years later I was talking to my mom on the phone. I heard her scream.

“Your father just drove the car over the carport.”

She hung up on me. I went into shock. I called my husband at work. He left to go see how my mom and dad were. I lost time until my husband came home and told me what had happened.

When he got to my parents’ house it was surrounded by three fire trucks.  Dad was still alive. He was in the car unable to get out. The car was facing front side down and the tail end up. What kept him from rolling down the hill in his car to the house below was that same Ash tree that grew up from a seed long ago. An Ash tree saved my dad’s life.

How dad’s car was towed up the hill is a blur to me. The fact is after a few hours the firemen got him out safely.

Dad was washing the car that day on the carport. He stepped on the gas instead of the breaks. This is what sent him over a 12-to-15-foot drop.

The Ash tree in our neighborhood will be cut down tomorrow. In my yard are several Ash trees that came forth from such a mother Ash tree. Hawk and raven are always welcome here. Their flying patterns have changed.  I can see that they already know that a change is coming.

The Drooling Cat Blues

RIP Mr. Po Po

Hey pretty kitty

You gots the drooling cat blues

Hey white Mr. Po Po

You gots the drooling cat blues

You lay around all day

And sun yourself in the morning dew.

Hey white puss

You gots the drooling kitty blues

Hey white Mr. Po Po

It is smelly old news

You lie around all day

And you gots to take that morphine too.

But you knows pretty kitty

We all loves ya too.

Hey pretty kitty

You gots the drooling cat blues.

~ Hudley 3/9/21

As well as well can be for these crazy times

Mom’s Rose by Hudley

The risks we take , it is not the time…

What is nice in my neighborhood today. Low key, safe, neighbors are running and walking. No crowds or large parties…. no protests. I can feel safe here. I hope you have a safe home too.  The bees are here, the butterflies are moving through, and the wind is warm. The dogs bark and the raven sings. 

My John is home sleeping on the couch. He is not at the hospital taking care of too many sick people today… makes me sad. Yet, my cats are playing and sleeping, and I am safe.

I used to go see bands, promote them, and do anything to be with them. Not now… I will not risk spreading covid19 or getting sick for them. I hope they are all well… as well as well can be for these crazy times.

A very contrary good frustrating place to be… yet I hang in my cave , I am dew on a rose…

Sweet Water and Heavy Heart

Sabrina Cowgirl Extraordinaire Episode Four

Sabrina and Cooing Dove’s first encounter with each other. Or Colin’s best friend Hawk.

Hawk was a traveler from tribe to tribe. He shared stories about the Great Peacemaker. He often would have to earn favor with each community he approached. Showing he was not a Brave of war, trickery, or bad medicine.

Hot buttered rum

Hot buttered rum was a drink my uncle Royal made up for the Holidays in Autumn and Winter. He had a small store-bought bucket with the ingredients. He put a tablespoon in a cup of warm water and rum. The smell was cinnamon, butter, and pumpkin spices.

As I watched him make the drinks for the adults. He would give me his cocky smile while making one up for me without the booze. We gave each other a wink, a click of the mouth and a nod… after uncle pulled out his cigar. “Just like James Cagney.” Soon the men would be playing poker.

Years later I lived alone on the east coast in Rochester New York during the same holidays. One evening after work I went into a bar and sat down, I asked for a hot buttered rum. Surely, they had the same bucket of goodness sold at most liquor stores behind the bar. The hostess looked at me like I was a moron, who I most likely am. I saw some talking behind the bar. Then the bartender came out with warm water in a cup, a jig of rum, and a tab of butter. Now I looked at him like the moron.

Before I put the chemistry together three jigs were brought up and turned over before me. Whack, whack whack … the three pints of local beers were welcomed. I learned then the customs of local drunks. The moral of this story is that the Butter Rum Life Savers taste like my Uncle Royal’s Hot Buttered Rum cocktail.

He had a big old ranch style house and farm in Anaheim Orange County. Not two miles from Knots Berry Farm. When the big deal was jam. fried chicken and mining for gold. Pomegranates, oranges, and avocado trees once strummed his house for a few miles. It is now a house landmark. His sons had the house and land protected. It is most likely a stranded place surrounded by fast food joints, apartments and who knows what. I should go see the old farm again someday!

satisfies this dilemma

In Jung’s theory, the anima makes up the totality of the unconscious feminine psychological qualities that a man possesses and the animus the masculine ones possessed by a woman.

So, when a man puts down or suppresses a woman, it tells us that he has a complex or issue with his own feminine. As an individual or collectively. We live in a patriarchal world. There are so many journeys a male has to correct this problem. Myth, religion, and psychology, or maybe just listening to a female for a change.

Women can learn to handle this problem by developing and having a strong ego and addressing the male within her own psyche.

It is so different what a man and woman face and project out into the world. When I am conflicting with a man it is because my animus is acting up and needs to find balance. I must express my intellect and feelings. It is a challenging and rewarding process where I have found bliss, creativity, and hope… one does not always have to dwell in the underground…maybe a good film noir satisfies this dilemma… a heavy metal song or horror film… or a cup cake with lots of frosting. I like having a well-balanced animus and anima. It took a lot of work… I am aware of it always as a process of life. It is not boring in the slightest, either.