Keep Watching

The short story is a work in progress... keep reading for updates!

Found a new book that looks interesting and is going on my christmas wish list: 'Eve, the history of an idea' by John A. Phillips. In this book Phillips looks at the myths of the ancient's Great Mother goddess and reveals how the biblical authors were rejecting and renouncing the goddess image in order to assert the godhead of the male figure yahweh (and thus a male centric culture). It looks to be a terrific source for further writing projects.

Also, when I googled the book, this website popped up and I thought it was worth further discussion: http://www.womenpriests.org/body/baring3.asp If you go there, tell me what you think. I don't think their biblical interpretations are going to hold water with the catholic church since most of what the church follows is tradition, not actual scholarship, but they have certainly pulled together some interesting information.

Lazarus unwound

She walks down the street with a confidence that holds life itself in contempt- a "you-aren't-going-to-defeat-me" gait that carries her around the common and beyond the peonage. She plows through the cracked and crooked cyprus door, pausing only to allow her cornea to adjust to the dim, a duskiness that inhabits the cleavage of the walls, scurries across the floorboard and over the surface of the shack that somehow gained the reputation as a shop. The compound odors of garlic, curry, cigar, incense, dust, and ancient artifact condensed to agitate the nostrils of her finely refined nose. She swipes at her sharply pressed sierra sand colored skirt and fitted white blouse in reaction to the nearby grime and scans the perimeter against possible incursions. The tailor made "Refined Explorer" boots she purchased in Milan wrinkle at the toe of their own volition in distaste at the dirt floor which had undoubtedly been the bed of a herd animal at some not too distant past. Her cosmetically enhanced nails brush a single stray hair back in place as she gathers herself against the onslaught.

She takes a folded letter out of her pocketbook and glances over it "...happy to hear you may have discovered... can't tell you what it will mean... will await your article... Finkelberg has a new find... a real blow... your work, in the right hands, might... Get back to us as soon as you can!" Finkelberg! That Israeli hack has no loyalties. His own people were tired of his anti-biblical rant. She takes a step in one direction, then another. Scowls silently, "Gives pacing a bad name" then stops to glare toward the "back" of the hovel where a man's voice seems to transmit from.

"You, hey there," the international accent was so heavy that it was nearly unintelligible-- to anyone. "What do you here?"

It's a wonderful life...

I am spiritual person-- with or without a deity. I believe in the unity of humanity and that when you are still and quiet you feel the power of the connection that binds us all with the universe. (there are some that might call that god but they don't believe you need to believe it IS god-- I'm fine with those people. But I don't believe it is god, just remains of the star dust that make up the universe which we all carry within us)

I have a tremendous peace and humbleness before a sunset...

or sunrise.

I weep when I hear the whisper of the wind in the palm trees at night and see the stars twinkle in the sky.

My breath is taken away by a beautiful passage in literature.

I feel a great joy and elation when I hear a symphony or the lyrical tones of Chris Botti.

I believe there is something bigger than myself that I am to serve-- not god, but humanity because if there is a god, then god would definitely want people to care for each other. Especially those who are not able to care for themselves. My duty to humanity is to contribute something in this world-- to make it a better place in some small way--even if it's just putting a wonderful book in a kid's hands...

life is good

Where is your place???

Have you ever been somewhere that speaks to your soul, creating a peace that seems to move beyond the quiet of the moment? Some believe that we each have THAT place- though some may not have found it yet, nevertheless, it is there just over a distant horizon.

Some years ago, I was invited on a trip to a small tropical island. It was beautiful! I was told exuberantly. It is out of time, it was claimed. I smiled knowingly, confident that what one called art was called craft for another. I would wait and see.

On first blush, the island was hot and steamy, reminiscent of a large microwave oven. Tourists stormed the beaches like Normandy. I was not impressed.

Our first evening we went to heaven... 'Blue Heaven' to be more specific, where I experienced my first taste of the magic at the end of the world: a small family owned restaurant. We sipped champagne under the palm trees as our hair swayed to the rhythm of the gulf breeze and roosters clucked by the table legs. An elderly gentleman plucked gently at his guitar and crackily crowed an oldie from the eighties as the waitresses valiantly asked "would you like soup or salad?" between his vocal improvisations. Laughter bubbled out of the kitchen and the wafting of BBQ'd shrimp made my stomach rumble with yearning. I sighed with a deep contentment as I took a final slurp...

That was it. I was home.

Welcome to Key West-- the end of the world