...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )
Archive for the ‘Lady’ Category
Friday, May 24th, 2013
Where’s my Life Help button? – foto Smith
Took an hour to drive through Chicago yesterdfay, and that’s only because we were lucky to hit the 3pm traffic rather than the after-work rush, although can one call it a rush if no one’s moving? But we regained the lost hour due to a time zone change I’d forgotten, so it’s almost like we’re already here when we’ve hardly left at all.
Lady’s been taking fone fotos of odd moments, like the windshield-wiper wiping, and trying to post them to her FaceBook wall, but the reception’s not good or fast enough. Says this road trip to a far city in a new state in a strange country to show some art and read from our book is a quest.
Also says she’s fairy, was told in a dream. My first thought was fairies are small like Tinkerbell, but then flashed on Cate Blanchett as a Lord of the Rings fairy, as well as my own 7-foot sculpture titled Tinkerbell, so why not. This world could use some extra pixie-dust.
So she’s fairy and on quest without good connection to post quest steps.
And it ties in with the Gamut Gallery whose basement we’re reading in Saturday night in Minneapolis because the current show upstairs is a fairy land, so of course my fairy Lady and I would be reading in the basement. I’m more underground Orcish or beneath bridge Troll anyway . . . she’s Lady, I’m scamp.
Actually her and my 7yr8mo relationship has been (and is) quite the quest, of magic, in adventure. If we ever get this memoir jump-started, I can start writing the tale of what happened next. Already know a perfect place for it to end — with our 1st book busting loose. Now just have to manifest that.
Tinkerbell, 1996 – sculpture & foto Smith
Thursday, May 23rd, 2013
“First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is.”
Dear Beings of the Universe/Good Luck Charmers,
The moon is full. We are on the Quest. We set off this morning, our little quest within the big Quest. We are going to Fairyland, which is good because I am not just Lady, I am a fairy. We will tell the beings in the basement under Fairyland our stories from Stations of the Lost and Found.
This Fairyland we’re going to is in Minneapolis. On the way, we are stopping in Elgin:
- Much of Elgin is in the county of Kane.
- Elgin National Watch Company’s logo features Father Time.
- Elgin has a Symphony Orchestra and some examples of homes in the Queen Anne style.
- The Indian Removal Act of 1820 and the Black Hawk Indian War of 1832 led to the expulsion of Native Americans who had settlements and burial mounds in the area.
So that Act was 193 years ago, basically, two or three lifespans ago, roughly 8 generations ago. How could one possibly justify the expulsion of Native Americans? What were the settlers thinking? And so overtly, too: the Indian “Removal Act.” It led to the Trail of Tears. Interestingly, many ethical Christians protested the act.
So there’s this potpourri of information that one can dig into—what parts of it apply to the Quest?
What I know:
- I am a fairy and we are going to Fairyland.
- I was asked to ask Brahman to stop the suffering of Samsara. This is part of my long quest and what I was told in the Dream.
- I am Lady of the Church of Not Quite So Much Pain & Suffering.
- Native Americans figure.
I like time and the thought of going West on a quest. East, too, but I’ve been more East than West.
Peace & blessings & love,
P.S.: I would like to leave you here with a Bree poem from the new Matter Ring:
You are the bartender salting the rim
of the earth. You are shaking things up,
You are the hostess the whole room
rounding while we straighten our shirts
in the mirror moon easily makes
of your eyes,
The salesman on the ready, always, you
make something out of us, like it was
no thing, this us. And this is us waiting.
We are what we make of each others army.
And you time things right, ever the
doorman, you of the first infantry, opening
into us, you also pull away from us, and off
of us rise.
Tuesday, May 21st, 2013
Getting through it is what a woman’s period is about—getting through the end of the cycle, bloated, sloughing, cleansing. How the blood blooms, body aches and then svelteness after the sloughing. Like our sight of the moon showing more and more light then sloughing it off.
But a moon when full is like a bright plate, a pendant, something resonant.
A woman when sloughing off her blood? What’s that? Is it just that we do it together? Is it just about cycle?
A woman when sloughing off her blood, a woman when aging through the cycles, she’s not always so keen on it.
The moon, though, the moon is always keen.
A woman is kind of like a tide and a beach and a powerful beachcomber, a powerful self-grooming beach. Not a bitch, a beach.
There are many metaphors for a woman, but I am working on conveying some kind of idea here about grooming and aging and here we have again the thing about the woman and the moon.
Perhaps just the getting full and release and the similar period of time—that’s it? But as far as cleanliness, the moon is always pretty clean and keen.
A woman picking through her mind can be keen. A woman letting herself recognize her framework, her bones, the beauty of her bones and how the tissues hang on them, a woman can love how her tissues hang on her bones. A woman can love how her tissues billow on her bones. A woman can love how her tissues firm and slacken and slacken and firm on her bones. A woman can have so many expectations for herself and make them happen.
The moon takes whatever comes, actually. The moon is slowly battered over and over but what we see from here is bright silver patina.
Women, they are battered as well, we all are. I’m not talking about assault, I’m not talking about violence—there’s been enough of that. What I’m talking about here is the battering of the days and nights. What I’m talking about here is the battering of being through so many cycles. And the upside of the cycles is renewal, there’s that, too.
Let’s have gentle means round these circles, let’s take them tenderly. They seldom ever end.
Saturday, May 18th, 2013
Lately I keep thinking about the movie “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” In the movie, they find out that in the future they are worshiped and the whole of future society is based on them. The motto of the society is “be excellent to each other.”
I love 80s expressions like “excellent” and “awesome.” I love thinking about the hearty innocence and doggie gusto of Keanu Reeves. Yeah, he’s kind of bland, but he’s still *excellent.*
I am on a quest. My quest is to be as excellent as I can be in all the little nooks and crannies of the Thomas’s english muffin of my life, the big, most excellent, vegan-butter-and-raw-honey-whole-wheat-toasted english muffin of my life, the english muffin of my life that is delectable yet leaves one wanting more life to live!
So for the past two years I’ve been beating myself over the head with activist efforts without letting myself have the teensiest toe-dip in the actual tangible parts of what it is I would affect positively with my activism.
That’s changed recently. I am working on tangible, immediate results in addition to abstract work.
There are two things we’re picking up: volunteering at the APL doing dog-walking and working on protecting the watershed. So rather than only sitting and talking, Smith and I are out there doing fun stuff and getting exercise and being with each other, helping save the world and being and feeling excellent.
Volunteering at the APL is such a joy–to be with the dogs in the field, being so happy, witnessing happiness. Their walks of temporary freedom also temporary respite for me. It is so nice for the dogs to have the walks–they are treated well and they get out quite a bit, but even so the majority of their time is in the little cages.
I have noticed, though, that some of the dogs who are more shy or who have some physical problems (like Dozer, a sweet, blind dog) have been there for probably quite some time. One dog doesn’t like a leash, so I don’t think she gets to go out very much at all unless someone really pushes her. I’ve been working on a relationship with her and have just sat in her cage to work on keeping her social but she won’t even let me pet her yet.
It makes me think that when I adopt a dog, if that happens in the future, I will adopt one that is shy or has some kind of physical issue, because it will help prevent animals with these problems from having to stay too long cooped up.
This morning we’re going for orientation on the new watershed volunteer gig. This is kind of neat because it’s a new project for the Cleveland Metroparks, a new watershed program in Parma. The more I read the more I read about new programs for reclaiming and restoring the health of land, and I am so enthusiastic about being a part of this, putting my hands into the loam of it, seeing stuff grow and be protected and secure.
Sunday, April 28th, 2013
Rumi world – foto Smith
Lady: I’m going to look into the Sufi, they interest me and I know very little about them.
me: I like Sufis, they’re the sect with the greatest sense of humor.
Lady: Rumi was a Sufi.
me: Rumi Sufi Sufi Rumi. . . what, he could only afford two vowels, the U and I?
Lady: Ha . . . ha . . .
me: So is the Sufi Rumi the Rumi with a view? And if he lives in a large place, would it be a Rumi room? If he ran a thoughtful country would it be a Rumi-nation?
Lady: Steve, you should write those down. I mean, they’re not very funny, more like lite humor, but the fact you said them so quickly is impressive.
me: High praise.
Rumi by way of Dr Seuss
“Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you” — Rumi
“Only the lonely” the radio sings
to my heart inside with its variable wings
that fly through the cosmos inside and out
giving universal oneness an outright shout
for I am you and you are me and we be
together illusion rounded about
rich in collusion and agreed upon see
each with our input, each with our clout
we’re all many ones combined into swarm
merely collapsed Heisenbergian wave form
so do not feel lonely, as Rumi says
our out is within, a morality play
we are not only this speck trapped in time
but many an any wrapped Rumi rhyme
— Smith, 2012
Rumi nation – foto Smith