i would bring it here as a POST of its own but don't know how….so just can refer back to it this way.
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after hours of Thinking .Finding self in what is beginning to seem to be an Involuntary ReView….or, maybe i should say a spontaneous one because i am willing, I was amazed that Deb sent this "story" out of the Blue yesterday. It hit me like a ton of bricks, a ton of SunFlowers, a ton of Goats
When i first came to N. Mex, Madrid, is where i ended up when i turned off the engine of the camper van. (that i could sleep in, live in, really) Same place she writes about here, The Clown House. I walked the wooden walkways up and down, looking in all the artsy shops, picked the one i felt most at home with, Tapestry Gallery, and took the fiber figures that i was making in and asked for work. The owner, Barbara Marigold said ok and would trade renting me a one room cabin on her land and in addition i would be her riding partner 3 days a week. She would sell my fiber figures at 30% consignment. I became shipping and handling, painted signs, changed displays, gardened around the shop, things like that. And i rode with her on one or the other of her 4 Arabians up and down arroyos, through knee deep mud of the Galisteo River bed. I hadn't ridden since i was 19. When i finally moved away, she, being a woman of few words said: "you did good. you never fell off."
so some of the details are different, but so much in this essay is the same, and incredibly written. It's just how it was. It's what i remember, what i lived.
What does this have to do with Anything? It's that ReView thing. Waking up the last 2 days to COLD that takes at least an hour to warm up seems to have set it in motion. Or it could be the dog trainer's words about too many Goats. Or it could be feeling required to answer well meaning questions on the telephone lately that seem to have caused some unexpected well meaning questions from me to Me. I don't know.
But i LOVE this essay beyond belief, i love this woman for writing it, i love her skill of telling a True story and i love that it came to me through Deb Lacativa, an inter~Net sister.
So what i am reviewing today: I'm asking who/what was i then, those almost 30 years ago when i came to N. Mex? And what of that me remains in the me that i have come to be today? This is the year that i will cross over into what i consider Real old age. I am going to be 69 soon.
I LOVE her line….."The land is bewitching, dangerous, sexy. She knows what she wants and you'll gladly give it to her, all your blood and sweat and Years." This is the truest thing i have ever read about New Mexico.
Her writing is superb, Stellar. She tells the Truth in a way that lays it all bare, all there, Just as it Is, no more, no less.
to be continued
FRIDAY 11-7-2014 ………FURTHER THOUGHTS
FILTERS… How worlds that are worlds apart can butt up against eachother, so close but not touch…and not even be seen, really, if you don't think about looking, don't Choose to See. Knowing that the other world is there but it remains invisible to the extent that it doesn't exist in your own days. Thinking that the difference in time should be noted. Reigh wrote this essay in 2012. I relate to her words from maybe 1990. Tho it IS all that it is, things then were still not what they are today. I wanted what New Mexico gave me then for my own personal sense of Bottom Line, that sense of a basic equation for living. Not for the sense of response to the Collapse that has become present in the ensuing years.
SATURDAY MORNING 11/8/2014
I could have stayed more "normal". But that's all water under the bridge. The question rising is: Should i try to become more normal NOW? Or just keep playing it by ear?
I dreamed the Two Lovers Dream….an on and off recurrent theme all my life…choosing which one, not wanting to hurt the other….and in this one last night, it was the old lover i lived with for around 7 years whose parents were very wealthy and wanted me to marry him and give them a grandchild and if i did, they would take care of everything forever. In the dream there was a moment when my face was just touching his and i remembered his scent and there was just this moment of breathing each other, so softly, so gently, so ……….in such a RIGHT way and i thought how none of the loves ever sustained that kind of connection. That i had never really, in my life, known loving in that way. So i'm thinking about it this morning. How many of us DO experience that, a kind of exchange that is free of everything but this soft and Complete exchange of nothing but breath.
windthread 
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