the dream life

Full moon dreaming

This is my dream board for the Full Buck Moon.

It's all about power and transformation and joy-- feeling grounded and alive. I can feel a lot of old limitations breaking away and forces put into place long ago coming in to play. 

I usually make my dream boards up in my office alone. This one I made it tonight, out on the porch and I could feel the energy building in a fun and exciting way. As neighbors walked by with their dogs and rode by on their bikes, I kept wanting to call them up for some summer dream boarding together.

I read an Abraham-Hicks quote yesterday. To paraphrase, it asked, which do you choose - peace or passion? It kinda knocked me out. It was a question I'd never thought of before. Long a seeker of peace, I have to say, right now, I choose passion.

Structure=loose

I had a new student in my class last night. After the introductions, I said to her, “This is a loosely structured class,” and the other students laughed in acknowledgement that yes, it sure is.

Loosely structured doesn’t mean I don’t think about my class or plan for it, it just means I try to go with the flow, see what comes up, and if the conversation turns to subjects other than what I had in mind, that’s fine with me, and if there’s no conversation at all, that’s fine with me, too.

It is summer, after all, and the class meets at 5:30 p.m., and we sit on cushions in the park (our conversation—and the writing—often turns to the other people in the park and our imagined lives for them).

Where I am right now

Tracy asked me on Friday morning if I thought it was wise to enroll in an art class during the same month that I'm completing a major writing project. The truth is, I'd asked myself the same thing. It may not be wise, but it feels right, as if the two will feed one another. 

I'm not frightened by the fact that it's already the 5th of July. Time isn't making me nervous. I don't even believe in it anymore.

I'm engaged and flowing.

I've been working with a new deck and I've been sitting every rainy weekend morning on my front porch where I talk to new friends (oh, how I love them!--we're going to start going to meditation yoga classes together) and drink coffee with soy milk and sometimes write.

Yesterday, my nieces rode on a float in a parade; today Tracy and I are going shopping to complete our costumes for an upcoming party (here's a hint.) 

It's Sunday morning and I'm not thinking about tomorrow.

I'm not even thinking about lunch.

I'm listening to the rain and my feet are bare and I'm noticing how this town sounds.

And I'm almost done with this book. I can feel it coming into focus.

I'm giddy over art supplies: Notebooks with thick pages and paint pens and rulers and drawing pencils.

Things are happening here.

Thriller

Michael Jackson Tribute at Thursday Night Live from lorilyn on Vimeo.

After the first Mecca performance of Thriller, the MJ songs kept rolling and everybody sang and danced for an hour and then, Thriller again. I don't remember the last time I was in a crowd exactly like this one in Lexington. 

Tell me what you love

 

In the bathroom at Third Street, just before meeting with my group.

Not long ago, I wrote here about what advice I would give to other writers. This morning, I thought of something else I’d like to add to that list: Don’t read book reviews.

Yesterday I was roaming around reading reviews and I stumbled upon some words about a book that I know, by an author I know. She’s seasoned and talented, there’s no doubt about it. I happen to like her and her work quite a bit. This review, side by side with positive ones, was brief, shallow and cutting. I stopped breathing for a second. The author would probably think nothing of it, but I felt it like blunt force impact. First, I felt empathy for her – the hours she’d spent crafting her words, her story; the love she felt for her characters, her own blood running through their veins. Second, I felt my own gremlins raise their little well-meaning but destructive heads. If someone doesn’t like that book, they said, yours has no chance. Stop writing now! Please! Save yourself the embarrassment.

Silken creations

I'm trying to dial back the baked goods, but just in case you're not trying to dial it back, you might want to get yourself some of this.

I've tried all three flavors. I made pie and brownies with the chocolate, muffins with the strawberry and blondies with the vanilla. I've also eaten the chocolate and the vanilla like a pudding (delicious) and I know the strawberry would be great in a smoothie, though I haven't tried it yet. 

Delicious stuff.

June 2009 wrap-up

Harmony by lorilyn on Polyvore.com

The three cards I drew from the Psychic Tarot at the beginning of the month were Harmony, Shadow and Material and Spiritual Prosperity. Harmony, one of my favorite cards in this deck, signifies the possibility of  deep spiritual initiation, partnership or union. The Shadow card speaks to emotions, sensitivity, and serves as a reminder that nothing in life is at a standstill. It calls us to look at our darkest fears and walk through them. The last is a card that represents a peaceful, tranquil time when problems seem to disappear.

A collection

This things are currently resonating with me:

Superstition & Sin at Shift Your Spirits

Magnificent Brain at Finding My Way Home

Volume Down at Dating God

Laurel and Hardy dance to the Gap Band:

Lately

Living the dream of coffee shop writing.

8 things, re-entry

I had an interesting conversation with my neighbor today. It turns out she also lived in New York for a while. We were talking about what it was like being there and what it was like to come back here from there. Then, I saw this Magpie Girl 8 things post about the signs of re-entry.

It spoke to me, of course (because the 8 things posts always do) but also because of the earlier conversation and the memories it brought about for me. I spent a lot of time writing this weekend and because my novel is set in New York, that's where my head has been. It's fascinating to be both places, here and there at once, and talking to my neighbor today I could acutely remember what it was like moving back to Kentucky after years away. It was like this:

Book of love

Larkspur Press-James Baker Hall

The Mad Farmer Stands up in Kentucky For What he Thinks is Right.

Transitions

Leaving Third Street after a storm having just learned.

Farrah Fawcett 1947-2009

LA Times

Mamarazzi

NY Times

Michael Jackson 1958-2009

L A Times

The Everyday Witch

Blisschick

James Baker Hall 1935-2009

Lexington Herald-Leader

Mingle Freely

Bill Randall

Savoring summer

Today Jamie asks, what do you wish to savor?

Last night when I got home from work, Tracy and Woody and Peepers were sitting on the front porch.

 

This class

Last night I decided that maybe I didn't need to try so hard to be impressive or inspiring or keep the conversation going. I took my writing class out into the park and we sat there under the shade of a giant old tree and wrote for an hour and a half. No one spoke. We watched and listened to the life going on around us. Some people wrote to the prompts I'd supplied, some wrote about what we were observing. 

When it was over, we went back inside and shared funny stories about irrational fears and I thought how instantly I love teenagers; how I love to see them curled over their notebooks, how their fire is so present, on the surface.

It's the words that are important, their own words not mine. It's the act of writing,the act of telling, the mining of voice.

It has nothing at all to do with me; I'm grateful for the opportunity to witness.

Babies of 1969 unite (& put your party shoes on)

My birthday being in February, I was one of the first of my classmates and same-age friends to cross over from the thirties into the forties, but the season of birthdays has really ramped up now with people turning 40 all over the place, and it’s a lot of fun. I love reading and hearing about each person’s take on this and I have to say, I’m impressed with how overwhelmingly positive my friends are. There seems to be a general consensus that this coming decade is going to be the best one yet. It’s like we’re all gathering this energy and putting these intentions out in to the world and simultaneously shedding everything that we no longer need while embracing what we truly want. (And in case you’re wondering, everybody looks fantastic!)

This is what school can be like

The PS22 Chorus.

Well, this is cool

It seems that journal wrecking is a key that unlocks a particular room in my creative heart. When I signed up for this experience, I was thinking that it would be fun. That was my main goal – to have fun. I also thought that wrecking the journal would force me to confront some of my old familiar creativity killers – those little mind hitches that hold me back because they seek the perfection that I can’t deliver.

During the first week, I found myself looking at certain prompts in the journal and thinking – nope, not going to do that. Can’t do it. That would be ugly, or that would be mean. I just let myself have those thoughts and proceeded along my way.

The message in the giant cookie

I love my writers group. I love the individuals of which it is comprised, and I love the group itself and what a nurturing and razor sharp friend it is. I love that every time a new member joins Kapow, she is unique and wonderful and brings exactly what we need. I love walking to Kapow during a thunderstorm and the way the sidewalk smells in the rain and the lamps and tiny lights glow inside of Third Street Stuff against the grey outside.

Have you ever eaten a cookie that is so good it almost makes you weep? (If you’re keeping score, raw sugar is back in my diet even though I declared myself sugar free some days ago. Vegan=Yes! Sugar Free=No.) This is the best cookie I’ve ever eaten ever in my life. I sort of wish I hadn’t read the fat and calorie information after eating but even so, Alternative Baking Company rocks as does Third Street Stuff where I bought this cookie while communing with Kapow.

Playing with invented people

Jamie’s Wishcasting prompt today is With what or whom do you wish to play? At first, when I read it, I felt my old familiar resistance to the word play. I think I’ve mentioned here before that this concept is a bit sticky for me because my initial reaction, whenever I am guided to play, is to associate that word with things I don’t like: running, teasing, competition-- that sort of thing. I always have to remind myself that my play doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s play. It’s the lightheartedness, the losing (or finding) of oneself in joy that’s important.