When you've reached this age you know...

...that the mind is the first to go.

Mister Always Comes Up With The Best Gifts surprised me on my birthday with an unusual and most appropriate for my tastes present this year.

One of our favorite authors is Poppy Z. Brite, from New Orleans. She writes erotic horror fiction. Over the years he has given me many first edition signed novels of hers. They correspond over the internet frequently.

It is from her that he found my gift. Antique leather leg restraints from an old mental institution in Georgia.

What else can I say?

This posts title is from the The Birthday Dirge. Author unknown.

We could walk forever....

...walking on the moon.

A few weeks ago, The One Who Carries My Luggage and I were in the Virgin Islands. One of our favorite places is Trellis Bay..where there is a very bohemian enclave of artist studios and restaurants. Not much else.

The reason for this posting..Aragorn Studios. Aragorn makes these incredible fireballs out of old metal orbs..I am thinking mooring balls here...and once a month, they are ignited for their Full Moon Ritual. Of course, I wanted one. But they were not for sale, and would be nearly impossible to get back to my house anyway.
Lucky for me, Liz, the resident potter, makes smaller ceramic versions. I fell in love with one done with fishies, in metallic raku, but it had already been sold. Erin, the most capable store manager, arranged for another one to be made just for me. Liz only fires them on full moons.

It arrived yesterday. And will be properly initiated on the next full moon. Check out his website at www.aragornsstudio.com. Very cool indeed.

Some may say
I'm wishing my days away, no way
I may as well play

Maybe I'm amazed....

...at the way you love me all the time.

And maybe I'm afraid at the way I really need you.

Enough said.

Time waits for no one...

...and it won't wait for me.

I stopped blogging. I knew all along that real life was much more relevant than sitting at a computer for even one moment longer than I absolutely needed to.

My inspirations in life do not come from words on a screen.

The Lakota Sioux have a saying..." today is a good day to die". One should live each minute as if it were their last. And I certainly would not want to be found dead slumped over a keyboard.

Therefore, my virtual absence will continue. In the past weeks, I have created art, played music, traveled, worked with the horses, made love, spent more time doing things that matter....and I like it.

I'll be back, surely. When something in my little brain insists on being set free.

Time can tear down a building or destroy a woman's face
Hours are like diamonds, don't let them waste

Words by Jagger and Richards

Tell me why.....

I have received a lot of comments about my last post, both online and by those who want to remain anonymous. Cowards. These words are directed towards those who choose to speak their minds yet remain nameless.

This occurs to me....a drunk driver or a drug addict behind the wheel of a car has a much greater chance of killing some innocent person than I do, owning a registered gun for self protection against someone who is threatening my life.

The drunk and the addict get sympathy...those poor, poor sick and misguided people. We have to understand their addiction and pray for them. I get called a killer and a war monger. Even though my owing a gun has NOTHING to do with war. Or with politics.

The drunk and the addict affect peoples lives every day...their family being the most devastated. Hopefully, NO ONE will ever be affected by the guns in my house.

I think a bit of Neil Young is in order.

Is it hard to make
arrangements with yourself,
When you're old enough to repay
but young enough to sell?

Janie's got a gun....

I'll probably get a lot of flack for this. My words are not directed to any one person in particular.

The shootings at Va Tech were a horrible thing. But as far as I could tell, a politician was not the one who bought the gun, or gave it to the killer. I am tired of all the blame being put on those who were NOT responsible. Should we execute the guy who sold the kid that gun? Should we blame the parents? All of you are such wonderful child raisers, your kid would never do anything like that, would they? Is the administration of the college responsible? Shouldn't they have had the wisdom to foresee this? After all, they are the ones who you gave responsibility to (and a whole lot of money) and entrusted them with your children. OF COURSE NOT.

Do the research. A hell of a lot more people are killed every year by drunk drivers. Good thing none of you ever got behind the wheel with a little (a lot) too much alcohol, or anything else, in your bloodstream. I can't make that claim. Maybe we should ban cars. Or are drunk driving fatalities the fault of the politicians too...they could have outlawed liquor.

The powers that be say that drugs are illegal. See any shortage of them? I don't. What makes you think it would work with gun control?

So when your daughter is getting raped, or your son is being carjacked because some fuckhead wants his car, and you have no way of defending yourself or protecting your child because the bad guy has a weapon and you don't, DON'T CALL ME. And DON'T CALL ME when your home gets invaded, and you can do nothing but watch yourself and your loved ones get the shit beaten out of them because the bad guy has a weapon and you don't. Maybe you can talk the criminals out of doing what they are doing. Use poetry to cajole them. Light candles and put on some Joan Baez...that should calm them down.

Guns don't kill people. People kill people. And sweethearts, that makes you and me the problem. We are people.

Nuff said. I need to go get a mop, and clean up all the blood from the bleeding hearts. And listen to some Aerosmith.

Make your own peace, babies, cos no one else is gonna do it for you.

I am just a monkey man.....

Glad you are a monkey woman, too.

This is Monty. Short for Montgomery.

He has been sitting in my studio for weeks, unfinished. It took a sharp knife and some Class 3 narcotics to whittle him down to something I could deal with. I couldn't get my head around the whole original torso/shoulder thing. And I needed to wait until the muse kicked in. She has been missing lately. Monkey butt inspiration does not come easy.

The tattoo is the chinese zodiac sign for monkey. And I suppose if you must have a monkey on your back, ink is not a bad option.

I have a sudden urge for a banana now . . . . you're so vain, I bet you think this song is about you.

Words by former bedmates Carly Simon and Mick Jagger.

Stone free .....

.....to do what I please.

One of the best gifts anyone can give me is a rock.

Mister Goes Away has brought them back from his adventures. The One Who Plays In Dirt carved a rune into one for me. One of The Little Imps brought me back a stone from Paris. He Who Obeys wore one of them around his neck when he traveled. My house is full of them. They are in the pockets of my jeans. Around my neck. On my desk. They are in the horse stalls. In the cars. On my altar in honor of the earth elementals.

I have no reason for this post. Perhaps its the drugs. I hurt my back. And I am a big believer in better living thru chemistry. Vicodin and Hendrix. Nice way to spend a rainy Sunday.

Baby got back

Ok. Mister Torso has been sleeping in my studio for weeks now, untouched. The epiphany came in the middle of the night, after thinking about something that happened yesterday morning...I need to attack it with a knife and cut it down. The shoulder part is just not working for me. All I want is the butt.

And once that is finished, I can start on a commission piece. Two paintings. Side by side. Reds, browns, golds...very abstract. At least that is what is in my head at the moment. (Actually, something else is in my head, but he's not here, so...)

My creative urges are not exactly surging lately. Surging urges.....hmmm. And I know from experience that unless I get back in the studio and make messes, I will suffer. And when I suffer, everyone suffers.

All that you suffer is all that you are.

Smashing Pumpkins

All of the ladies attending the ball...

I don't celebrate Easter. My holiday is Ostara. Google it if you don't know what that is.

So, no easter bunnies. No big feast on Lambchop for dinner. (I loved that puppet) Instead of an easter egg roll, I roll these little lovelies. They clink and clank and jingle with little bells inside.

So, darlings, celebrate the day as you will.

Please then remember and don't get too close,
to one special one, he will take your defenses and run.

Thank you, Mister Stills, for that sage advice. It has proven itself as truth more times than I can remember.

Scuse me while I kiss this guy....

I didn't mean to take up all your sweet time,
I'll give it right back one of these days.
And if I don't meet you no more in this world
Then I'll meet you in the next one and don't be late.

Cause I'm a voodoo chile.

Obvious, ain't it?

Wish I could take credit for the artwork.  Artist unknown.

Rock And Roll Hoochie Koo

Last nite I did something I have not done in years. Went to a bar with the express purpose of drinking beer and listening to some very loud rock and roll. And to dance with every man who was under 35.

Here is what I don't understand. For the majority of the music, men in ball caps were lined up at the bar, watching women dance with other women. Why is this? Why don't these men march right out there, interject themselves, and meet some of these lonely hearts who do not have a dance partner? And why don't these women ask these men to dance? I had no problem doing that..... Mister I Wouldn't Be Caught Dead In A Ball Cap doesn't dance.

Anyway, I had a kick ass time. I knew about a zillion people there, including the guitarist, who is my very best friend. And when I was not being Miss Twinkle Toes (with a partner of the opposite sex) I had the pleasure of watching all this amusement.

The bar scene...not much has changed in the close to four decades I have been experiencing it.

Lordy mama, light my fuse.

I've been a bad bad girl

This is Fiona Messcat of The Woods. AKA Messy. She appeared in the woods around the house one day, and moved in. She is getting older now. Quite the hunter in her day, I would find headless snakes, squirrel and rabbit entrails, and piles of feathers out on the deck. Now she is content to sleep on her pillow, scream at us when she is hungry, and taunt the dogs. I love her neon green eyes. The One Who Feeds Her says she is a good cat. I have my doubts. I think she does things when we are not home.

What I need is a good defense
Cause I'm feelin like a criminal

Building a mystery....

Have you ever had something happen in your life that offers no explanation, but it seems like it was so totally meant to be? You ask the questions, but the answers only make more questions. I am learning to just let it be...take it for what it is, and not agonize over the whys and what ifs.

After all, if I truly believe some of my previous posts (which I do) I created these things. And my interaction and reaction to the people and the places. Don't know how I did it, but that is another question that I have stopped asking. I don't want the answer.

Just as the path is sometimes more rewarding than the destination, the questions are far more intriguing than the answers.

You come out at night
That's when the energy comes
And the dark side's light
And the vampires roam

You're so beautiful...a beautiful fucked up man.

Words by Sarah, of course.

She rode a horse into my head

No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle.

Words from Winston Churchill. He knew what he was talking about. An hour on Jesse yesterday cleared my head and blew out some of the insignificant crap put there by some rather insignificant people.

I have been reading a lot of blogs where people are listing the things they are grateful for. I am grateful that I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I please. It's that simple.

Be in Peace, babies.

It's times like these....

You learn to love again.

Time to get back to my music. THE music. I have been away from it too long.

I am a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
to hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
do I stay or run away
and leave it all behind?

Dave Grohl...acoustically foo fighting.

Cold irons bound....

Down on your knees, begging praying asking for forgiveness. Some people go to church on Sunday morning to do such things. I don't.

I'm bound by the fire
I'm bound by the beauty
I'm bound by desire
I'm bound by the duty

Words by Dylan and Jane Siberry. Construe them as you will.

UPDATE

HAHAHAHAHA...it's so good to be me. My dentist office does not open till 9. At 8:40 this morning, they call me..apparently some wild haired little birdie read my post, and told her man, who just happens to be my dentist, who told his office to call me and schedule an appointment ASAP. Seems I owe some people a really REALLY nice dinner...thanks lovies.

With teeth....

Ok, whomever is putting this bad mojo on me...STOP IT. Now I have either broken a tooth, or lost part of a filling. Which means a phone call to the dentist, begging them to fit me in sometime today to fix it. I don't have time for this. I don't have time for much lately, it seems. But I am not bitching. I am thankful that my life is at a point where I really don't have to do anything I really don't want to. The house is a mess, so what. Art is on hold, no big deal. No one is demanding anything from me right now. Which is good, cos I wouldn't give it to em anyway.

She comes along
She gets inside
She makes you better than anything you've tried
It's in her kiss
Black as sea
And it runs deeper than you dared to dream it could be
Wave good bye
To what you were
The rules have changed, the lines begin to blur
She makes you hard
It comes on strong
You finally found the place where you belong

With teeth.

NIN in the morning.

Back in the saddle again...

Today I got off the couch. I actually got dressed. And actually ate something. A double dose of morning monkey medicine did wonders. Left me exhausted and drained, but it did wonders. In fact, I felt so damn good about not feeling so damn crappy that I decided I needed to put my butt on a horse this afternoon. Which did even more wondrous things. While Mister Fix It and Mister Barn Owner worked on water troughs, I trotted around, happy to have 1000 pounds of horse flesh between my legs.

Tomorrow will be spent rescheduling all the things I had to cancel the past few days. Lunches, facials, massages....and other less critical appointments (like a meeting with my stockbroker to discuss the POSSIBILITY of a budget so Mister Above Referenced can retire and I can live in the manner to which I have become SO accustomed to). Oh joy.