Lucky Friday the 13th!

Guys & Dolls opened tonight to a small but enthusiastic audience. It was comprised of a few cast family members, and a lot of drunk theatre members.

Ziegfeld has a Member Gala on opening night (as in open bar). It was fun to perform for a raucous crowd that was having a good time before they took their seats. I didn’t feel at all ready, but their energy fed mine and, folks, we have a show!

Today was fun, too, because there was just something special about spending a Friday the 13th in October with my 13-yr-old black cat, in my new apartment, #13.

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222!

tree-of-life-2
Tree of Life II
2.22.17

14″ goat hide hand drum on wood frame
w/ mallet
$250

Just a few tiny differences really transformed it, I think. I did forget that I meant to make a shape out of the middle branches – oops! – but I love it.

222This is my FIVE YEAR Blogiversary, and I have to say it’s pretty revealing to record one’s thoughts on the same day each year. February must be shitty for me, because I’ve been down more often than not on this day. I’m currently in a big Fibro flare, which doesn’t help.

Nothing suits me better than a trip to Texas to see my best friend! (I am anxious about the flight. Travel isn’t the same since Fibro. Those seats can trigger or worsen a flare, to plague me for months. Luckily, I plan to do little more than sit and laugh. And stretch a little, I suppose.) I leave in the morning for a week, to do nothing at all but be with the family that’s more family than my own.

222 is still my favorite number; truly a magical triple digit for me. So 2.22 remains a beloved day, and I love February because something about leaving January makes me feel like it’s Spring already. I’ll snap out of winter blues soon, I’m sure, so today I recommit to getting up. I trust enthusiasm to infect me again. I am who I am.
blogiversary

Tree of Life

For my 10th drum, I decided to move on to an idea that’s been brewing for awhile. I’m so pleased with how it turned out! I can’t wait to explore this series.tree-of-life
14″ goat hide drum on wood frame, with mallet
$275
(The tone is INCREDIBLE!)
1.30.17

My final mandala left me uninspired. I like it fine, but the outside ring looks muddy from a distance. Still learning about color, I suppose. And it’s lovely. It just doesn’t have the vibrancy, somehow, that I enjoy in the others from across the room. I do love the impact of the blue triangle, but wish for brightness and purity of color elsewhere.

[UPDATE: Apr. 10, 2017 After seeing this drum from a distance outside at a drum circle, I love that outer ring precisely for its ability to blend with the rest of the mandala. 🙂 ]
9
10″ drum on wood frame with rawhide lacing, plus mallet
$180
1.25.17

Love Is Stronger Than Hate

march-for-love
This was a gathering to tell those who feel targeted, marginalized, and afraid that they are cared for and embraced. It was so healing for me.

I was disappointed by how many detractors appeared on the event’s page. As you know, I’m not afraid of anger or opposed to its expression, but I cannot believe how cruel and ugly people can be. For heaven’s sake, let us love each other. You don’t have to play.

I successfully thanked one such troll for his opinion, and politely ended a hateful conversation. (Well, he continued. I didn’t.) I want my gold star!march-for-love
We marched downtown from the Capitol and back. It was such a beautiful, warm sunny day. Feedback felt great, from traffic and passers-by on foot. So nice to be met with smiles, support, and unity.

love-trumps-hate-tshirts

i-love-you

I love her beaming face!

I think it’s never a bad idea to combat some of the hate-flooding that is our new normal with a big dose of nothing but love, for no other reason than love. And this was much more than that. This was a clear message to those who have been injured by the rhetoric of this President-elect, that they matter. They’re not alone. They’re supported by neighbors. Hope is not lost. Kindness still lives. We will get through this. YOU ARE LOVED.
drumming-on-the-wall

Synchronicity

I had another dance with… let’s see, it was ten 2s this time… on my trip home. They came at a significant location and hit really hard. I mean, you don’t often see ten of anything, but when it’s 222 – my number – I really pay attention.

I didn’t include it in my little report of the home visit, ‘cuz, I mean, don’t you get tired of me oohing and aahing over repeating numbers? And really… Really? Numbers?

I know I’m a little weird.

But that was a signal to me to pay attention. It was such a big one I was feeling really connected and alert, but I didn’t know why. When it’s my regular 222, it’s just a smile. I call it a little hug from my Cheerleaders. Four 2s, well, that’s a real howdy! But ten! Wow.

So I’ve been in dialogue with my Crew since Sunday, thanking them for being with me and getting my attention, and asking what it was I should be noticing.

Yesterday, I ran into my cousin at the supermarket. I haven’t seen her in at least 4 years. She’s an energy worker, with a focus on generational healing. How trauma changes DNA through the line came up in conversation. I brought it up, can’t remember how. “Funny you should mention that,” she said. “I just had an ancestor come up yesterday and I tracked him to 7 generations ago. I’ve been asking myself why he popped up for me, and why there is so much death around him.”

“Well, if you think about it, early Mormons would have left us with an imprint of terror. If they weren’t killed themselves, they were in fear of it. They watched their friends, neighbors and family being run off their property, at best. Terrifying!”

“Oh, I hadn’t considered that. He was a peer of Joseph Smith, too, and everyone at that time would have been in fear of death and loss.”

“Well, there you go. His actual friend was murdered. And it would have been everywhere, that palpable fear. We’re wired by recent history to expect an enemy.”

My spidey-senses were tingling. It confirmed for me that Tarot and other forms of divination are not poppycock. They’re just tools to help me fine-tune my intuition. In fact, the conversation was validating simply because intuition is so easy to dismiss, period, as ego or more hippie goddess blech. But my cousin is an easy-going Mormon gal not given to every mystic whim that rolls around. She’s just intuitive and knows it.

I admire the confidence she has in her connection, and it was a thrill to be in the right place at the right time to help her find some clarity and a new area of exploration.

The best part? She used to work for a homeopathic center. Years ago – right after the Fibro symptoms started, long before a diagnosis – she suggested I try them out. I seriously considered it. After all, she’d suffered from Fibromyalgia for a decade and had complete remission after treatment there. But… Well, you know, there’s the possibility that Fibromyalgia is a made-up malady (I still fight with that!) and herbs are so much… hippie goddess blech. “They’re natural, they can only help you.”

No. Anthrax is natural. Herbs are medicine and I don’t take that shit lightly. Yes, I believe in the benefits of plants – and Western pharmacy – but who knows how much is safe and what of interactions and and and… ?

And it’s $80 just to be seen, before they try to up-sell you on their snake oil.

Yesterday, I updated my cousin on how much worse my Fibro’s become.

“Did you ever go to that clinic?” she asked, knowing I hadn’t.

“Nooo! I should just do it. If I’m willing to spend $45 on a 15-minute phone call with a pet psychic…!”

“Go!” she scolded me.

“A couple of years ago, I could hope it would just resolve itself, but this is unlivable!”

“Go!” she ordered me.

“You know what? I’ve been asking my angels why they got my attention this weekend and I run into you. You say it worked. We’re on the same wavelength. Ah hell, I’m doing it!”

My appointment’s next Tuesday. I’ll tell you all about it! 2222222222!

I Forgot

I went hiking on Antelope Island, the largest in the Great Salt Lake, and locked my keys in the car! I was cursing having congratulated myself for making it 6 months without incident in my Little Hyundai, “And the very next day I lock the keys in the car! On an island!”

“Wait,” my friend reminded me. “Didn’t you crash into a toilet in the street?”

Oh, crap.

My roommate upgraded our bathrooms months ago and placed the old thrones curbside. They would have been removed by days’ end. One was, but I demolished the other.

I think I’m not the best driver.

chukar

Keith Miller, photographer (my cousin)

My Favorite Number

A 222 kind of day!

A girl in my dance class announced her upcoming workshop, “Divine Love,” from 2/2 – 2/22, on offer to everyone in the class for $222. After class, I noticed I’d parked in front of building #222, and premium unleaded at my corner gas station is selling for 2.22.

I was born at 2:22. Hi, angels! 🙂
222