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Bon voyage Rica. You were so sweet and timid, content with your position, no ambition, you showed grace, spirit and beauty from the bottom of the totem pole. I wish I had paid you even a bit more mind than I had but that thinking is futile now, and always… You had five beautiful years here, as free as you could be in a neighborhood like ours. You got to roam and wander as you wished, into the garden, across the street, through the neighbor’s yard, and wherever else you found. The whole troop of you as a sight always warmed my heart and I loved the way all you girls dropped everything and came running when I yelled my customary “babies!” to you all. I filmed you all running at me once and put it in slow motion, it always makes me laugh and now it will make me a little teary. Some say that Chickens ain’t all that, but they have not taken the time to get to know your kind. Would the Creator make anything that ain’t all that? I think not. You girls have taught me so many things about life and I am forever grateful. In death my dear Rica, you showed me unprecedented grace. You showed me how to die with dignity and peace. It was strange toward the end not to try and help, as it was with my father, to just let you be and fall asleep into the Earth. You spread your wings and buried your face breathing into the ground until you breathed no more. It was all under the beautiful tangerine tree where the four of you have laid in the afternoons since you were young. You breathed in and out with sun shining on your golden feathers and then finally drifted off into the spirit world. Thank you Rica for touching my heart and teaching me big lessons. When my time comes I will remember your ways and seek to emulate them as I cross over when the time is right. I hope to see you there with so many other loved ones so we can all lie together under the big tangerine tree in the sky…  Goodbye for now sweet girl, goodbye for now….

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Our dear Sassafras…

     Oh Sassy! You were so wild and pretty, so driven and utterly untamed. You carried the genetic memories in your firm, strong frame that allowed your kind to survive from prehistoric time. My money was on you to outlast the rest of the flock and you might have if you had not given yourself to the raccoons instead of your bedmates, Muriel and Chestnut. I was horrified to find you nearly scalped and maimed, but still on your feet, wandering, and somehow alive. How did you ever get away, your feathers I found indicated that it was a long struggle, a fight even, and they could not get you, or keep you down. I was hoping you would make a miraculous recovery, I did my best to clean your wounds, to provide the medicines that could help ward off the infectious bites and clawings, and you did, you lasted quite a few days, with me always thinking you’d be better the next. You were able the whole time, never moped, never let down your guard. You even attacked Chestnut to let her know you were still YOU, and not to fuck with you in your weakened state. It was mind boggling. I have learned a lot from you in so many ways, but in the last days I learned the most. You handled your pain, you let me feed you and willingly ate and drank from my hand, you trusted me like you never had before and we made some progress. In the end the wounds were stronger than our healings and so we had to let you go, but in letting go let me tell you that we will never forget you. You are, you were, such a bad ass being and, in the end, a very loving being. You never led the flock, you didn’t really care about that kind of stuff, and no one ever led you, you were always your own. We will miss you dear Sassafras, already our world is changed. I am glad you are free now and I thank you for teaching me with how to deal with such a grievous assault with your own stoic dignity, and your willingness to keep the will to live under unimaginable circumstances. Our world is better for having known you and I hope you are content now eating your palm seeds up in the great roost in the sky. May we meet again dear Sassy! I love you, you are a legend in my mind and in my heart, forever…

Distancing…

Posted: May 25, 2018 in life, Spiritual
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Each step carries me further from the tumult of the past.  Such grievances, such betrayal, they are lost amongst the grains of sand and silt that form the trail I leave behind.  The sun beats on it.  The rain dilutes it and reshapes it.  When I turn to view it, to gaze upon all that I have seen before, it is but a mirage.  It hints at nothing, just travel, just experience that is now lost and liberated amongst the grand cosmic web.  It pleases me to see it from this vantage point, this new plateau.  The ebbs and flows of my soul are now mixed into my general being-ness.  Connotation is absent.  My intentions and my actions have been good and right.  They remain so.  My integrity has remained intact with occasional infractions which bother me not in the least.  Guilt?  For what?  I don’t need it and I don’t use it.  Before me meanders a silty river draining fire charred slopes.  It’s as black tea filtered through sandstone and mule fat, sage brush and laurel sumac.  High, real clouds float above me.  The sky is blue and silver and white and gray.  Time washes by me in the black water, the mountain decoction.  The fluctuations of civilization, with all of it’s drama, hype and disappointment goes unnoticed.  The culture of blame and worry, fear and isolation does not resonate in the natural frequencies.  It holds no power here, no lasting impression.  It is seen for what it truly is, illusion and separation.  How it’s foothold was planted is a story I do not understand.  Fear and violence, that ragged, jagged god, with a little g, has worn out his sloppy and unattractive appeal.  Quiet you!  You’ve spoken too much.  Your eyes are gone, your heart is black!  No one comes to you anymore!  You are a burning building, toxic and asinine, like a drunken fool berating his hosts, like an arrogant traveller haggling with the poor.  Your time here is nearly done.  I have no more rules to live by and certainly never followed yours.  You are an impostor, a parasite!  The family I came from, their hearts and minds have been ravaged by your deceptions, your innuendos and mixed messages.  My ears are sealed.  My mother, my sister, my father, they are gone.  Do I miss any of you?  The answer remains unclear.  I see no joy in their worlds, no passion, no thoughtful, flowing love and wonder.  Alas!  They are but vacuous insects in my mind’s eye.  Their souls lay upon sheets of ice, glacial emotion, lurking like hungry dogs upon electric floors.  So many big words, so many authors read and examined, so many mistakes repeated, rewritten and enacted.  It’s too bad you missed me ladies!  It’s too bad I scared you off with my unbound love and my howling and carrying on.  I thought you all, as well, were enamored of this glorious, miraculous realm, this heaven on Earth.  Oh Lord, great Creator, how easily have we turned to living in hell?  Let us not feel bad for it, as that is folly.  Get up, wipe yourself, stand up straight, never fear and get your ass walking again.  I have no apology for you!

What’s the Point?

Posted: February 2, 2016 in Uncategorized

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I am a wanderer.  I wander a lot.  In wandering I usually find things that make this wanderer wonder.  I love to wonder.  I wonder lots of things about this little rock. Does it make you wonder?  I wonder…  Who made this?  What was their name?  What did they love about life?  Who did they love? Did they have children?  What were their names? What is the story of this chipped piece of volcanic glass?  Did it provide a meal?  Meals?  Was it an old style or a newer style of point?  What was it’s intended prey?  How was that prey cooked?  Did the man or woman who used this point have a wife or a husband?  Did they like to get it on?  What “religion” did they follow?  How was this rock lost?  Did an animal get away?  Was it dropped on a long journey?  The questions are endless and intriguing. How far have we come from this time?  Are we, as a people, happier than the people who made and used this?  Do we have as much “free” time as they did? Do we laugh and love as much as they did? Would they be considered richer or poorer than us?  How much knowledge do we have in comparison to them?  Would a field biologist today have half as much knowledge of the flora and fauna of their particular area as the people who created this?  What was their thoughts on Universal creation?  Where did they suppose they came from?  The stars?  Aren’t we all from the stars?  At what age did this man or woman die? What “year” were they born?  How old is this thing?  Some of these questions may be answerable.  Some may not be.  Does it matter?  Did these people feel that their way of life was destructive and toxic or beautiful and right?  Could their way of life still have been going on as it always had if the current paradigm didn’t replace it?  Where is our culture going?  Are today’s news headlines inspiring?  Or rather gloomy?  I imagine these people were very resourceful and could find food and water on most any given day.  Where does your food come from?  Where does your water come from? Do you know what the wild land around you has to offer?  Do you know the plants and animals that naturally occur in your area?  Do you care?  Or is all of that obsolete now?  How many gallons of water per person per day did these people use? Did they have indoor plumbing? What was considered important to them?  Were they in debt to banks?  Were they in debt to feudal landlords?  Did they know what rent was?  Did they vote?  Was housing a birthright and not a privilege?  Was lying considered normal? Adultery? Were gay people discriminated against or people of lighter or darker shades of skin?  It’s amazing what finding a rock can make you think about.   Lots of interesting questions… These are but a few.  What questions does it bring to you?  I’d love to hear and so, probably, would they…

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Meat, potatoes and Kimchee…  

That’s right.  I used to make this dinner like three times a week.  I had a good deer supply at the time and I had grown a bumper crop of potatoes that were delicious.  At the store I would get an all natural Kimchee brand with some ladies face on it.  I really can’t remember her name but her Kimchee was delicious.  Just cabbage, ginger, garlic, hot peppers, sea salt, water and time, not the herb.  It is a partially fermented food and is a digestive aid and general immune/well being booster that rules with deer meat and potatoes.  There is something about this combination that just fits perfectly.  I like to either sear or grill my meat rare to medium rare.  I usually use olive oil or butter, though pig fat, bear fat, or coconut oil will do fine.  I lightly season it with sea salt and maybe some dried herbs and maybe a little lemon fresh squeezed, lightly, over it.  I cook the meat last as the potatoes are finishing.  And deer meat isn’t necessary, use what you got, what you like and get high quality, well treated animals if you can.  Wild seems the best to me as the animal was a free being.  We all go in the end, eat with some awareness. For potatoes I do this.  I cut them into small pieces.  I get an iron pan hot and add a decent amount of olive oil, or any of the other before mentioned fats.  I throw my potatoes in as they get cut.  By the time I have them all in it is usually time for the first “flipping.”  They should be getting golden brown by this time.  I then let them sit again for a while until they get a bit browned.  I usually add some more oil in the middle of the time and sometimes I lower the flame just a bit though I do like to keep it relatively high.  It takes some time for them all to get cooked, depending on how many you decided to make.  I lightly season them as well with an herb or two of your choice and sea salt to liking.  Once they are 3/4’s done I heat a pan for the meat.  Cook it right and not too long!  I prefer more tender cuts for this, deer loin is perfect, though a butt steak will work fine too, especially if from a younger animal.  Once both are ready I turn off the flames and get my plates.  In the picture I have them in three little piles, the potatoes, the kimchee and the meat.  It is also good to put the potatoes down first, then the meat and then some kimchee on top of that.  The real deliciousness of this meal is the combination of flavors that come through once they have all melded.  It is divine.  Kimchee is also very easy to produce on your own and always better homemade especially if done with the highest quality, fresh ingredients.  I’ve done another article on pickling jalapenos and the process is very similar for kimchee though you use different vegetal ingredients.  I thought a restaurant that served variations on Meat, Kimchee and Potatoes would be a great success, or even a food truck.  Give it a try and let me know what your thoughts are.  I have become an avid fan!  Bon Apetit.

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Sycamore, my brother, my child

How I long to be connected with you,

and we are, I do know,

but life is so funny, so fragile, so fast,

how do I keep up and let the moments last?

I find myself so wrapped up in me

that it becomes hard to just float

with you.

So many things in my mind come and go,

the days are broken yet very sweet.

I am looking for peace within myself

so that I can live in the moment with you.

I know it is hard to understand

why sometimes I am here

and others I am gone.

Always I love you.  You have my respect.

I admire you so,

your strength and your ways.

Can you feel it, young boy,

do you know where I stand?

I hope so because you deserve so much,

it is my intention, my lasting hope,

that you feel this man who is now your father,

to understand the love that pours forth

and shines upon you.

I will continue to strive to be here for you.

I will continue to love you as this life unfolds

and I will pray that when you look back

you will be able to know that your father

was always so proud to be

connected to YOU.

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the new year chimes

like a cracked and destitute

liberty bell…

my soul rises on fire…

I am ready to bake

my god damned cake…

i’m ready to eat pussy

and pick fruit…

firecrackers and gunshots

sing sultry songs…

the bayous swoon…

music plays out loud…

rhythm…

handsome beats…

time don’t stop,

for me….


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