Move and Be Moved

Summer begins
light in the eyes,
returning to these
cloudy skies

miss you v.
love,d.

staying open
keeping it open
to the fullness
and the emptiness

Same Sun, different mountain!
Yes, so we are called into the Mystery.
Separated by space, connected in spirit
and motion...

hi v.
love,
d.

and it just keeps coming.

oh, the mysterious unfolding!

Coming down out of the Cascades through heavy snow- train rumbles softly
through the incremental morning
liminal light
threshold
of the day
closer to
home

Home in Body
Home in heart
Home in community
Home in the dance

...dipping deep
into the well
of uncertainty
and still so
grateful
to be
alive

endless mystery...

Just one more picture... I promise!

Tru and I each brought clay to Breitenbush as an added way of expressing during the Dancing Warrior workshop. Tru made two vessels with the intention of leaving them in the woods or by the river to return to earth in their own fashion. Elissa found the one by the river, and with a wet finger dipped into the damp clay, painted sacred symbols and creatures on the rocks by the flow. Later, joined by a new young friend, and supplied with a second color of clay from my stash, new paintings and hand-prints were made on the other side of the river. I waded across to see them, and found this view on the way back.

Vessel by Trudes, painting by Elissa

By Elissa and Michaela

A fish out of water, and a clay hand-print UNDER water!

What I made of clay by the river while Elissa and Michaela painted.

Release Workshop, Olympia, May 4-6, 2007

I know- no one's going to show me everything
We all come and go unknown
Each so deep and superficial
Between the forceps and the stone...

joni mitchell

The legislative session has been sucking me into it's vortex, and I haven't found the time to visit, let alone post for awhile, but here and there, I have found the chance to connect with my spirit guides. They are fishing in the dark under the 4th Avenue bridge as I pedal across on my way home from the dance, or work. Last weekend as I watched the aftermath of a sunset at Priest Point Park, one sailed in from farther up the inlet, circled once over the water in front of me, and came in for a landing not 50 yards from me. Thanks blessed Heron, thank you dancers, thank you dance.

For those of you who've heard me speak of my friend Peggy in Chicago, and her struggle over the past two years or so, she died peacefully last night with her daughter holding her hands, and many dear ones near and far holding her spirit lovingly.

Chaos seems to be the rhythm
that grabs me and won't let go
in the dance these days,
Extremes:
Chaos/Stillness
Present/Distant
Exhausted/Driven
RippedOpen/Peaceful
Life/Death
Lonely/Connected
Longing/Fulfilled...

The poem by John's friend speaks volumes to me. Thanks John for posting that. Wish I could have been there.

There are no coincidences- I made this image just now and decided to post it without having visited the site for a few days, and there is John's version waiting for me when I get here! Blessings. The pinch pot is by Trudes.

where I can go when spirit guides me,
the loving healers there they feed me...

This is a collaborative photo by Trudes and Duncan. I was inspired by John's last posting to put it up.
Integration-
conscious/unconscious,
repression/indulgence,
dark/light,
inner/outer,
dance/dancer,
love/lover,
self/other,
body/spirit...

wing-stretch
and beat
heart open
no retreat
dance on,
dance on through
the sting
of life
the flood
of love