Summer Storms

The last few days have been hot... so hot that any bit of clothing feels too heavy and restricting, but alas a city dweller does not easily enjoy the cool refreshment of the wind on unclothed skin. Nudity is one more mountain luxury I miss here. I love the summer, born on the solstice actually, but this dry heat is enough to make anyone go mad.

I set up the kids pool in the backyard, thigh high and twelve feet around, does the trick in a splash but hardly as satisfying as an unfettered frolic in the swimming hole, or a slip down the Camelsfoot black-plastic water slide. The sweetness of hot summers in the mountains has tainted me forever I fear... The sweltering blacktop running every which way, flanked by giant towers of concrete and heavily fuming trucks (almost everyone has a truck in interior B.C., even the guys in the cities), make the summer in the city as appealing as taking a bath in McDeath's old used cooking oil.

There may be some relief in sight though... dark, heavy clouds have been slowly gathering and I wait with devilish delight for the first moist drops to fall. My childhood was filled with summer thunderstorms. The hottest, muggiest days in southern ontario would almost surely produce a drenching downpour complete with lightening and thunder that night. I remember my mother loved these storms, her eyes would just light up and she would stand by the screen door letting the spray hit her as she watched the lightening streak bluish light across the hills.

I was always terrified of the thunder, and afraid that the lightening would hit the house or a tree nearby. If I watched it was always from inside the crook of her arm. The strange thing was that the power would eventually go out, and I would volunteer to go through the house lighting the emergency candles we had stashed all throughout for this very purpose. Even though I was totally terrified, I would take my one candle and walk through the dark house, bringing light with me. It was like my right of passage, overcoming my fear to show myself there was nothing to fear. A few years later when talking about this with a boyfriend he asked my why I would volunteer when I was so afraid, I could not give him an answer because I did not know what my reasoning was, only that I did not want to be afraid.

That seems to be a constant theme in my life. I do not want to be afraid and so I challenge myself to face my fear, and overcome it. If something seems to be reluctant in me, or I am afraid, it only makes me want to explore the reason for my fear, which often means doing the thing I am afraid of. Do not confuse this with recklessness for I am not much interested in doing things that have a better chance of failing or killing me, then succeeding. I mean seeing something that you must do, but are afraid to, and so doing it anyway. I wish to never be a victim and always be the warrior... well, the warrior princess anyway.

The thunderstorms in my life have been frightful things, filled with mystery and darkness intermittent with brilliant flashes of light like insight to a hungry mind. With these storms has always come the rain; cooling, releasing, replenishing water of life.

The day after a thunderstorm has always been my favorite, to walk barefoot in the wet grass and breath in deeply the smell of ozone and wet earth. It has always smelled like healing to me, like victory.

The Absent

I am back. You didn't even know I was gone did you? I escaped into the mountains again, ahhh back into the silence and fresh air. The stars out there are magnificent. All of you in cities can go outside your home at night and look up into the sky and what do you see? You might see a few major constellations, a hint of white glow that is the milky way, maybe even a nebula or two, but when you turn off the lights and walk out of a house in the mountains, the stars are visible by the millions and there seems to be no empty space up there.

Here in the city my life swoops back in on me like a scavenger looking for juicy bits. I brought home a new roommate, which is a relief, someone I know and trust... to a point anyway, the real colours come out after living together awhile, we'll see. Unfortunately the roommate I already had, who happens to be a family member of mine, has slipped back into some old nasty habits and is trying to quietly, and shamefully screw me and herself over.

I hate it when the people who you open your home and lives to don't return the trust. I try to help people, its my 'thing' in life, but I have good enough boundaries to know when my help is being abused and therefore not helping. The time has come again and it makes me sad and angry that I am in this position. I just wish people would grow the fuck up and behave responsibly. Is it so much to ask? Is it such an outrageous idea that we should all be responsible for our own actions and consequences?

The worst part about it is that she is lying to me. I know she is lying to me, and yet if I just came out and said "You are lying" what do you think would happen? Do you think she would come clean and be responsible. Sure its possible but highly unlikely and so it leaves me in a bad position and leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. I end up having to be 'the mature' one even though she is 4 years older then me, and she gets to continue on with her little 'poor me' story in which she is the victim and the whole world sucks.

Yes the world can suck shit! Its true, NEWS FLASH!!!! So if that's all that matters well I guess its time to jump ship. I like to think that there is a whole helluva lot more to it then that, but then I guess that is the difference between us right there. I see possibilities, she sees pain. I have tried to inspire her to see more, but I cannot help someone who refuses to help themselves. I don't like to give up, but I know when its time to walk away.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!! I hate this part.

Honoring the Goddess 

In the mists of the Summer Sea 

The Vultures are Coming!

I have a friend, Morgan, who is perpetually bad with money. She wants a lot though (don't we all) and so she is often getting herself way in over head. That would be fine except that when the people she owes eventually come looking for payment, Morgan often gets her back up, as if they should somehow care if she's got other bills to pay.

Her boyfriend, Brad, would be a waste of skin if he wasn't such a drunk. I mean he's actually a 'good guy'. Caring, artistic, respectful and still a little wicked. Yet he suffers from severe beer-bottle-mouth. The guy turns into a total loser when he's drunk too; mumbling unintelligible nonsense for hours on end, eyeing up every one of her girlfriends that walks through the door, and he even went so far as to crab my crotch and ass with both hands at her birthday party last year. Yup, loser number one!

Now that doesn't say much for Morgans' taste in men. She's no victim here, even if she'd like us to nail her to a cross. Oh no, she is totally responsible for the state of their relationship. But of course she "loves him". No wonder love has such a bad name. With girls like her raising it up as the reason to remain in a totally fucked-up relationship with a sick bastard, who would want love?

I have tried to be a good friend throughout our years. Not being too pushy or opinionated (at least TO her), but not ever acting like nothing is wrong. I don't believe in that shit, just ignoring the elephant in the room has never been my thing. So I try to empower her, tell her she can't help him and isn't helping herself. I don't let his indiscretions go untalked about, but I also don't pull the trip on her that she HAS to leave him... I mean what can we do but support the ones we love. I just don't let it hurt me, and try to help her see she can do without him.

So one day my girlfriend and I went to this mary kay party.. yes it's a make-up party, so what, girls love to dress up one way or another. When it comes to the part where we get to order the shit if we want it, this other girl and I decide we want some stuff. So we start going through the process of ordering and Morgan decides to order some too. Now she doesn't really have the money to do it, but she could probably manage if she just got like one thing, but oh no... she has to go and order like $150 worth of stuff. I walk over to her and get her attention quietly.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I ask. She gives me that 'oh its all fine' look of the abused housewife hiding a blackeye.

"Oh sure... Brad's got a job lined up, and I'm almost caught up in my bills." She says to me, trying to convince herself. I nod even though she still owes me about $300... this year. I look dubious and she trys harder.

"Besides, Jenny has agreed to let me make payments and she knows my situation."

She should, Jenny is dating Brad's younger brother, the two get shit-faced together regularly. I shrug and smile, 'if that's what you want to believe' I think to myself. Jenny actually used to date my ex, and she was a real bitch back then, but I am not one to hold a grudge so its a non-issue between us. One thing I do know though is that she will not let Morgan slide on those payments.

A couple of weeks go by and sure enough... Brad lost the 'job' (really just short-term labor) and drank away all the extra cash. Morgan got so stressed and guilty that she got fired from her job. What a big surprise. So it comes time for Jenny to collect and Morgan has nothing to give her. Then Morgan is hanging at my place one day and Jenny calls up looking for her. I hand the phone over and Morgan immediately gets this pissy, pinched look on her face. Like she's offended and somehow being wronged.

I sit at the computer trying not to laugh as she gives Jenny her excuses in a very bitchy 'leave me alone' voice. I'll admit, Jenny is a bloodsucker, and is being really pushy, but Morgan should have known better, and she did make her own fucking bed. She hangs up the phone and turns to me.

"Oh my God! She is such a BITCH! Can you believe it? When I told her that I had not gone to pick up my last check from work, she told me she would come over and get me and bring me to the bank and shit. Who the hell does she think she is?" I can hardly stand the look on her face. Totally self-righteous indignation, as if she is being wronged in the most tasteless way. Before I can stop myself I blurt it out.

"Oh come ON! You shouldn't have gotten into it in the first place and you know it. Stop acting so fucking offended, you did this to yourself." For my generous bit of honesty I get a look of total betrayal and more indignation. This is not like me I guess, I am usually the understanding, patient friend who listens and offers advice, not shit-cake on a platter. I am too sick of her utter willingness to offer herself up as a doormat and then complain that she gets no appreciation.

"Morgan look. Don't let it bother you, she's doing her thing, you have to do yours. You are no better then her and she is no better then you. Tell her you have priorities and your rent is numero uno. Give her what you can when you can, and if she wants to be a bitch, well shrug it off and move on."

Sure its good advice, but almost no one knows how to follow it. People get stuck at the 'shrug it off and move on ' aspect. I seem to be blessed with this particular talent and I would be rich if I could figure out how to bottle and patent it. My words aren't totally lost on her though, which is why I even bother, and the look on her face settles to a worried frown.

"Ya.. I know, you're right. I just wish she would lay off. She knows my situation, she agreed to the payment plan. *big sigh* Ah well I will just have to give her some money I guess."

For a few seconds I enjoy the feeling of victory. If I can help at least one person, then I am doing ok. It only lasts a few seconds though. Morgan almost immediately starts into why Jenny is such a bitch and how it's Brad's brother fault that he's always getting drunk (this month), and how it would all be so much better if he would just find a good job.

I roll my eyes and she acts like she doesn't notice. Ah fuck it, what can you do? I roll up a spliff and stick in her mouth just to stop the incessant babble.

"Here, smoke this. Fuck 'em all anyway!" I say

"Ya, fuck em all!" she agrees and lights up.

the horned one 

Love: The Dark Forest

One day as I wandered a path in the forest, I came across a radiant crimson flower. The deep red petals called to me in a way I could not ignore, and as I got closer I began to hear a song drifting through the trees. The melody was haunting and so lovely it made my heart ache with an unknown longing. The petals of the flower were open wide to the sunlight and when I finally reached the place where it grew, the glory of it made my legs weak and I dropped to my knees.

I could not say why the blossom had so enchanted me, but as I sat there in awe, tears began to roll down my cheeks. I leaned in close to share my water with the red passion in front of me and as the first teardrop hit the petals the forest around me was transformed. The song that had been a ghost drifting, was now a symphony. The light became an overwhelming brightness and the very trees seemed to flourish and grow. As it became almost unbearable, a single flute sounded clear and separate from the orchestra. The rest of the music seemed to settle back down to a drifting melody and I turned around to look in the direction from which the flute had come.

At first all I saw was the trees and the darkness between them, until the darkness blinked. It startled me and I became immediatly anxious. I stared hard at the darkness until I saw that the eyes belonged to some being; black eyes, filled with mysteries I could not comprehend. Just as I began to get really uncomfortable and thought about bolting, the thing behind the eyes, stepped out of the darkness and into the light.

For a moment I could not understand what I was seeing. A shimmering shape emerged, alternating between wolf, goat and man. As I stared the being seemed to settle and finally only a man remained; the wolf was in his eyes and the horns a silhouette on his crown. He stepped further into the light and I saw that he was naked but for the flute hanging at his side, his cock stood erect and proud. He moved towards me with curiosity and confidence. I was held motionless by those deep, dark eyes, searing my skin and soul. Only inches away, he stopped and reached a hand up to my face. Gently he stole a tear from my cheek and brought it to his lips. The gesture immediately brought wetness elsewhere and I closed the final distance between us.

Amidst a chaotic lightstorm and the most heart-breaking tune, I was ravished by the Horned One. His desire pierced my skin as the sharpest blade and I was eagerly devoured. Time stopped and the world fell away. At some point I came back to myself and discovered I was lying naked next to the blood red bloom that had first drawn me to this place. I had no memory of removing my dress, or when the affair had ended, but I knew instinctively, without looking around, that I was once again alone.

If it wasn't for my nakedness and the delicious throbbing between my thighs, I would have been convinced it was all a dream. I pulled my dress back on and sat beside the flower. I wanted to call out to him, but I did not know his name or if he even had one. A heavy sadness fell over my heart and I hung my head in my hands. A noise from behind me caused me to look, and once again I saw those black eyes looking out of the darkness. I rose to my feet and ran towards him, but no matter how hard I tried I could not breach the border between our worlds. Finally I stopped, and only then did I see the pain and despair that had filled his eyes. When I looked back at the flower I saw that some of the petals had started to wilt and fall to the ground. The end had come and the devastation it caused those magnificent creatures was too much for me to bare.

I ran away from him, away from the place where we had been, smashing through the underbrush not knowing or caring where I went. Until my mind realized what I was doing and I stopped and turned to look back. Even though I had run quite a ways, what I saw was the same crimson flower, but that was all that remained. The forest had returned to the one I knew so well, and the magic, the music, the passion had disappeared. As I watched the last petal fell, and something in my heart broke. This time I ran away down the familiar path as fast as I could, and not once did I look back.

white crescent moon 

the black crescent moon 

yum yum 

magnificent 

Sex Dreams

I would have to say that the sex dreams of my life have been some of the greatest, some of the weirdest and generally some of the most revealing dreams of my life. I had one just the other night that involved a professor ( of mine) and a girl I do not know. It was especially strange because it took place in a classroom. Talk about naked at school dreams, although this was the first of those kind that I was not totally embarrassed about being undressed at school.

Most of us have had those weird, humiliating dreams about walking through the school with nothing to cover your nakedness. It's pretty obvious what the psychology behind those dreams are, although in my version I am generally in only my panties, or in only a t-shirt and NO panties. Those dreams are about our vulnerabilities in situations where it is important to NOT be vulnerable.

But sex in the school, that is new to me. So there was this totally cute blonde and me. We were in our panties (see it always has to do with panties or lack there of) under a blanket (blanket?) in the corner of the classroom and the teacher was doing his best not to invade, but couldn't help noticing. What I remember strongest about the girl is her innocence... hmmm not naivete, but unpretentious and at ease. SHE felt totally at home playing with my breasts under a grey blanket in the corner of a classroom, no matter how strange it may be. I remember also wanting to entice the teacher to join us... I am so bad, it seems...

This is not the first sex dream I have had involving girls... nah, those have been the main attraction to my version of 'wet dreams' since I was probably just beginning to notice or admit that I was actually having 'wet dreams' (without the wet...you poor poor guys...teehee) And actually they were part of the fluorescent flashing neon sign that clued me into the fact that I liked girls... not just girls mind you, but not one more then the other I think. Yah know I think I prefer the girl dreams over the guy ones though, because sex with guys generally involves penetration, and I honestly do not have the ability to simulate that sensation all on my own, so the guy dreams tend to be more frustrating... ya know what I'm saying?

I have had sex dreams involving movie stars, like Ryan Phillipe. He used to rendevous with me... man he has a nice naked body... I have seen it and actually done more then that but only in the dream dimension. Also Keanu Reves has joined me, and Mathew McConaughey...yum yum. The only woman actor that I have had sex dreams with is Angelina Jolie... lucky me. I like to think that I end up being the nameless other in THEIR sex dream as the cute blonde was in my school scandal. Ya never know, I mean how would you find out... write them a fan letter and send a naked picture of yourself with a note saying "have you fucked me in your dreams?" HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA Only if you want to become stalker numero uno. No thanks I like my way better.

So in the case of the bad school girls, she was a nameless, and so am I, maybe we will see each other walking down the street one day and think... 'hey that person looks familiar... where have I seen them before'. Don't tell me it doesn't happen! If it does happen for me, I will let you know... In the meantime, I really like this picture of Mathew... it is SO hot, and this one of Angelina... enjoy!

Roland of Gilead 

my cousin's first taste of paradise 

Into the great wide open

I escaped from the city as soon as my final exam was over. Packed up the car and the son and cruised the two and a half hour drive into the glorious mountains. Ahhhhhhh. As soon as we got there I could feel the stress and hype of the city being blown away on the fragrant wind. The balsam root are flowering and so every where I looked there were speckles of bright sunshine yellow covering the momentarily green landscape. In another month or so, the green will only exist in carefully maintained and watered patches amongst the pale dirt of the desert climate, so it is something to behold and enjoy.

I can't help remembering my first trip to the little mountain oasis, from the vancouver coast. I laughed my head off when an actual tumble-weed rolled across the road in front of me. I thought to myself..."well hunny... you finally made it to the middle of nowhere". Also the small town (more of a village really) just outside of this mountain paradise was being upgraded (little did I know it though) and the main street had been torn up to make it wider.

What it looked like to a big-city girl was a wide dirt road lined with old western-style buildings. There were even horses tied up outside the 'saloon' and real-live injuns mixing with the cowboys. I say this with no disrespect, I have many native friends, I am merely setting the scene. The one thing I quickly realized that this town had that was different was the amazingly numerous 'hippies' wandering about, not something one generally finds in a classic cowboys and indians tale.

That was the day I met my first 'mustached woman'.

I understand its a normal thing for older women to grow hair on their upper lip, and that's it's politically correct for them not to do anything to hide it, especially 'hippie' women, but for me I guess there are some things I would rather be considered politically 'incorrect' about then to actually participate in. I am a feminist, but I like to actually look like a woman and be feminine. I mean why shouldn't feminists where lingerie and whip their male friends if they feel so inclined? Why should they not remove every ounce of hair on their bodies if they like? I am not so into removing all my hair, or botox or anything so... painful, but I am a feminist that believes it is about making informed choices, not being slave to one doctrine or another.... meh, but I digress.

The mountains... ah yes. After the lovely smells and blooms the next thing to scratch the surface of my perception was the utter lack of 'noise'. It is SO quiet there, way out away from civilization. I could literally hear the sound of someone working on there house half a kilometer away. No power tools, just the steady tap tap tap of a hammer. A humming bird flew up really close, drinking from the lilac bush so quickly I couldn't even see it but for the bright flare of orange around its head. I love it there... my heart lies dreaming with the alfalfa and musical creek.

There was a beltane party up further into the mountains, at the secluded commune. The folks who live there expected maybe 15 people, but all together we turned out to be around 40. I guess people were just waiting for an excuse to visit the haven. In two's and three's they came down the trail, backpacks and hiking boots. After the feast and acoustics, the bonfire was lit.

Slowly people began to drift away from the firelight and out into the dark, and from the bonfire soft sounds could be heard from the concealing blackness all around. The true pagans were out there, heating things up with the first other person (or persons, how adventurous are you?) to happen upon them. Giggles and groping, panting and moaning... what else is beltane for? Honoring the Goddess and perpetuating the fertility of the crops/tribe/animals, that's what!

Ah it's a nice thought isn't it? Too bad we live in much too a conservative time for such things... but its nice to fantasize. Instead the fire is really where it was at, fire-spinning, drumming and dancing, and I'm sure there are those who took the fungus trip... but alas, no brave pagans willing to get it on with strangers in the dark. Not really strangers anyway, we all know each other and I know there are more then a few who would love to use the fertility ritual as an excuse to fuck around with people other then their 'partners'. Too bad their all too well-behaved and up-tight to celebrate this ritual properly. The world has moved on to much drabber times.

Four days in the mountains; fresh air, clean water, good food. I am revitalized, especially once I got home and had a chance to bathe...not a lot of running water out there. It reminds me of why I have stayed so long in B.C., I love this place and it loves me. All of you who don't want to be here, get the fuck out. Well except for dusty... but only cause I know you are coming back ;) Or else...