Tag: plants

obscurity-absurdity

How can we tell the world who we really are if we mask our wisdom, our soul,  and ourselves behind plastic faces of obscurity-absurdity?

The limousine drove up and parked near the vegetable produce store. It was a cold morning and the mist from storm drains, coffees shops and exhausts merged and played in the air. A round woman was bending over some tomatoes and grabbed one to put in her cart. At that time, her headdress fell exposing her face and grey hair. She must have been about seventy years old.

A man in the limousine saw her before. It was part of his routine to park and look at her in the morning. He followed her routine too, yet she looked different to him of course. He sensed it and today he saw it as he thought to himself,

“Women today never age past thirty. Plastic surgery is as common as buying toilet paper. Why is she not young-looking as well?”

He was intrigued with this woman who held herself with such natural grace and wisdom. Her deep purple headdress highlighted the grey in her hair. Today he got out of his dark car and walked over near to her.

“Yes, the tomatoes look fresh today!”

“Yes,” she said with a firm look in her eyes.

He then noticed the wrinkles forming around her eyes and mouth, and as they continued to talk her words and facial expressions showed so much wisdom. He thought to himself,

“I can see that every wrinkly has an echo of many laughs and tears. Her experience from living life shows on her face. This is refreshing and honest. I think I will ask her for a ride in my car.”

“Not today but maybe tomorrow.”

This went on for a few weeks until the day when she said yes. They spent the day driving around the city in his cool limousine. He offered her pink champagne and in return she told him why.

“I am not like other women, I know. I will tell you why. As our culture became more and more obsessed with beauty, I became more and more withdrawn. I had a wild tomato plant growing near a drainage ditch near the end of my small backyard in the city.

Throughout the year I watched it grow, from blossoms, fruit and then towards slow decay. I’ve learned to appreciate the life cycles of the tomatoes plant and of nature in general. This is the tomato wisdom shared with me!

He held her softy and listened.

“How can we tell the world who we really are if we mask our wisdom, our soul, and ourselves behind plastic faces of obscurity-absurdity?”

And so, the two of them found a small room in the city and grew older together. Keeping to themselves and growing a small little garden with herbs, flowers and of course tomatoes.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/12/writing-challenge-health/

Daily Prompt: Four Stars

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Rings of a tree are the chapters that tell the story of a tree’s life. They live a very long time. They sleep alive unconsciously but very dependent and receptive to the physical and spiral world around them. As their physical body sways in the wind their vital body takes in life assimilates; while also being involved in the process of letting go of life: excretion.

Photosynthesis and carbon dioxide is the life of a tree. We are very dependent on trees for their processes of life. We have a physical body and a vital body too, but unlike trees we can walk, talk, and cut them down.

Hecate in general is the ancient goddess of maiden, mother, and crone. She represents the three rings of a woman’s life. Not all women take this path and some men do it better than women, I am now on the third ring. The three rings do spiral around like a tree and blend. Yet, there is a definite stage for each ring.

The image below describes the story of my life. Collectively, consciously, and unconsciously I have grown with these three different rings of life.

If one could dive into any one of the three rings of my life, they would find a different person.

Youth or maidenhood was irresponsible, wild, and free… her life seemed to go on forever.

Motherhood is when my children taught me responsibility, joy, and love.

Crone-hood is teaching me how to be enduring, respect others, to know what real friendship is and what community is,

Life is precious and every moment counts for something.

I invite other women, and men, to create a three-ring image of themselves… for those who have lived as long….

Three phases of Hecate copy

 

The weight of the world for the mantis species !!

Who needs to use chemicals, poisons or pesticides when you have us in the garden … there is absolutely no reason too… I go after, too many, crickets, aphids, black widows, and termites. I keep things in balance.  Yes, sometimes I get a little greedy and go after a butterfly… but I am your comrade: your friend of the garden… and sometimes on tall buildings in the city I am one with superman….

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There is magic in all gardens….Weekly Photo Challenge: In the Background

One with a shadow of a tree in my garden.
One with a shadow of a tree in my garden.

Our little Sony Cyber-Shot camera takes amazing pictures. This camera was a christmas present to my son from his grandmother. My son and I both use it. It is our creative friend.

The image is of a human shadow that is “one” with a tree nymph of a cypress tree in a garden.  Two shadows merge together as one. It you study the image you will notice aspects of the tree shadow blending with the  human shadow. A hand and thumb extend out from the cypress. The human is slightly bent to right with a hidden shadowy tree nymph. There is magic in this garden.

Look to the background: look towards the shadowy places in your garden.. and you will find the nature spirits there.

http://encyclobooks.com/Myths%20and%20Legends%20of%20Ancient%20Greece%20and%20Rome/DRYADES-TREE-NYMPHS-VALLEYS-MOUNTAINS-WINDS.htm

Morning-Glory Flowers and Vine

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“Didn’t you hear the morning-glory flower is very independent!!?”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, kind of wild too I hear…and not dependable in the garden.”

“I see them, often, climbing fences and in alleyways, the flower is very beautiful and bright too.”

“Maybe so,” said the old black bird as he flew away.

Overhearing this conversation between two blackbirds I imagined that they were both correct in their observations of the morning-glory flower, which is a wild vine-with flowers that grow around residential homes and alleyways, very beautiful to look at and always a pleasure to find. I have had a packet of morning-glory seeds for a few years and when I clean-up around the house I always seem to find the packet. I put it in one place or another until I find it again.

This year I decided to take a chance and plant the morning-glory seeds in a long wood flower box that my parents gave us years ago. Originally, the flower box was put in on the walkway of our apartment for seven years. Now it has been with us thirteen years here at our home. One side of the box now has a menthol succulent growing in it. I have had that plant for many generations: about twenty-five. I originally was given the plant from my first mother-in-law Mary Kowalewski. My mother and I took many trimmings from the original plant from Mary. It is the kind of plant that will grow with or without water.   It took well to the box, so it lives there happily alone now. Next to it there has been a dry spot where nothing seems to grow beside a few weeds that dry off quickly. It was about three months ago I planted the dark little triangle seeds there; the morning-glory seeds from the packet.

Hudley flowers and her little Sony camera

Something started to grow. At first, I was not sure what was growing. Then my heart jumped because it was vining outwards. I knew at that time it was the independent morning-glory.  How strange, the place that no other plant wanted …it wanted! I think this shows the unique nature of this vine flower.  I put a long stick from a nearby branch in the earth of the box to help the plant vine up it. The one vine leg of this plant did not show any interest. So, I stopped trying. A few days later the other leg of the vine was nicely wound around it. I laughed out loud. I fell deeply in love with this morning-glory vine.

Today I awoke early and went outside to give the vine some water. The days are hot now. I noticed yesterday that the leaves have started to wilt. To my surprise I found two wonderful flowers. Again, my heart about jumped from my chest from joy. So, it goes.

I am not going to bet on it, but I am sneaky and hopeful, that these two legs vining outwards will eventually take over our garden net fence,

“But don’t tell anybody…I don’t want my independent morning-glory and vine to find out!!”

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Blissful Heart : Sonic Reducer

Holly 1970s at 17

“Lots of people I know have bootlegged tapes of performances and if they play it I will be transported back sometimes with happiness, sometimes with horror.” ~ Chris Bailey,The Saints

This image takes me back to when I was 17. My eyes are closed with an inward feeling-look upon my face. It is the feeling of a blissful heart. This picture was taken by my first boyfriend who was a semi-professional photographer, graphic artist and print man. It became a romantic nuance when he took my picture. At the time I was young, foolish and in love with him. Looking at the image my face shows reflection, mockery and beauty. Time has taken its toll. I am a survivor of one crazy life, but with continuity I can still call upon the youthful and blissful heart of my youth.

This picture takes me back to a time during the 1970’s when mom and dad were alive. This is when taking a walk with your boyfriend meant something special. I was an open blossom of  life fresh as a  daisy, rose or yellow dandelion.

I threw away most of all the pictures Mike took of me. This particular image was rolled up in a paper towel container. My mom saved it for me. I found it recently due to spring cleaning, thank you mom.  My wild ways and rebellion, that came a few years later, did not get to this image. I destroyed all images from high school and my school books. Today I am glad to see how I once was. My body has changed and beauty has faded but I still feel the same in my heart. A blissful heart is still youthfully present.  I don’t deny that anymore, not now, not ever again. As I have learned recently this is the relationship between my Maiden and my Crone.

The song below is what Mike and I listened to at that time with a little help from our friends. In the 1970s pot was everywhere and mostly free. (ya… I am not talking to my generation here but for the youngsters who may not know this..)

As you may well know…this song came later… it was fun too. Maybe punk rock was or is a kinda rebirth or something!? Yet now I can blend both parts of myself together.

Merge

The vine with  purple flowers makes its way to our chimney every summer.  By the cold of winter it declines and we pull it back. One year we let our home insurance lapse. The insurance agent came out and told us that we had to trim the bush back so it did not even touch our home.  It was a fire hazard and we could not be insured. In California we do not have that many fires in the fire-place. As long as we do not let the insurance lapse the insurance agent will never know.  The relationship between the red man-made  brick and the lovely nature made  vine well keep their date of  summer merging.

Fibonacci Poem # 1

dark 
green curved 
leaf foggy herb 
smells reflective round watery dew 
drop the ocean hill etched into the broken 
rocks falls down into salty small sand crab alert and foam carries away
tumbling inhales dark and light green leaf and beige and black crab into the tide tangled seaweed into  the consumed blue.

Understanding the Shadow…or maybe it is risky to have a shot of Makers Mark with Tyler Durden.

I don’t know if others working with their shadow experience this or not. Recently I engaged with a lot of creative forgiveness work with others and myself. I call it taming the wild woman within. The symbol that comes to mind is the wild purple thistle that grows on the hills and fields in my town. Interesting to view, sticky, needles all over, and that purple color…wow. Yet often we tend to cut down and do not give time for this wild purple thistle to come to full fruition.

Occasionally we see them in forgotten fields or in an uncut neighbor’s lawn. I love them. I tend to cut them down too. I know that when we do too much healing, or forgiveness and bring that awesome light into our bliss felt little existence, we ignore the shadow in us. Then like the wild thing that it is, it pops up in the most unexpected ways.

 Maybe it is a projection of our shadow on to a situation that is not to our liking. Be it stress, too much whiskey or pushing our comfort zone. It was a simple thing for me, where a few so-called friends ignored me at a bar?

This hurt my feelings so then the shadow monster came forth. I tend to ride the creative expression of the shadow, not suppress it. This, for me, can be an uncontrollable expression. I might use my “fuck you finger,” or kick a bar door with my foot. Maybe bring up those elements of the film Fight Cub in my life, as in the relationship between the narrator and Tyler Durden.

The relationship being is to fight with oneself and in this film the shadow does motivate an underground revolution. My revolution being the one within myself in relation to the world, but one needs to find balance.

The key is becoming conscious of all of this. Achieving this balance then between our civilized self and wild self. If I find wild purple thistle growing in my garden, I will let it come to full bloom. I will not let it take over completely. Likewise, if my lawn becomes conservative and meticulous in greenness, I will let some part of it go wild. So here I sit in my bed with possible torn ligaments in my right leg. This is extreme shadow pain. I am hopeful of the lesson learned!?