A Reprise

I have been thinking there are two kinds of power. A human can be a force, a conqueror, and this is a lesser, more limited kind of power. Or by being still and waiting you can experience a power that will move through you, and this is the greater power. I feel the Western world values this lesser kind of power, while Earth-based societies value the greater. The lesser power can create chaos and destruction, and it does in ways I can see. By disconnecting with the greater power waste, destruction and suffering come to people or a society.

I was really interested by the small Ute exhibit in the Mesa Verde National Park museum. The patterns in the beadwork had a distinct Renaissance influence I thought both beautiful and fascinating.

Highway 550 , a photo by ladyhildegarde on Flickr.

Last night I dreamed that I chanced upon a beautiful garden and cemetery. Everything was covered in verdure and blooms, and I was seized with the desire to take every possible photograph. I didn't know why I had never noticed that place before. I hurried home to find my camera, but I became distracted by a dozen things, and I never returned to that beautiful place. This morning, I felt heartsick that it has been so long since I have spent time in a place of beauty photographing it. I decided to take some time the next few days to reconnect with photography. As I entered this pavilion the way the light fell reminded me of a dream. I wish I could find a place like the place in my dream.

My new Rhode Island Reds , a photo by ladyhildegarde on Flickr. I got two more chickens, and it's great to have four again. No more excursions outside of the coop, no matter what. These are full-grown bantam Rhode Island Reds, and they are much smaller than my other two, one of which is a Barnevelder, and the other possibly a mixed breed. The new cockerel is fighting a little with my old hens, who are bothering "his" hen, but they are already calming down, and hopefully some day I can have happier chickens and more eggs again. Since my rooster's death my hens haven't left the nesting boxes or laid eggs, and one of them is turning an ashen color, feathers and comb. I hope more birds and and a new rooster will help her feel better. Winter isn't their favorite time I know.

Scarlet looked up with alarm, real alarm. Cassandra had never seen her supervisor look discomposed, but just now her fear was unmistakable. She rose suddenly, a whole foot taller than Cassandra, though she was as slender as a willow, and similarly pale. "I thought you'd gone home, Cassandra. Why are you still here? It's late." "I had some work to finish up. I guess there's nothing more I can do. I'm sorry to have startled you." "You shouldn't hang around here after dark, Cassandra. It won't be safe for you to go home. You walk, don't you?" "I don't mind the dark," Cassandra said quickly. "I like to work late. I could use some extra hours, if you don't mind, Dr. Thorn," she added, recalling a conversation she had overheard between her co-workers. Humans liked to work extra hours, though she didn't truly understand why. But as a princess, she had never wanted for anything, and didn't t

Hi! I have made some changes to my sidebar syndications. I have not found any new material for Fuck Yeah Generation X lately, which I'm sorry for, because it seems like a lot of people are interested in it. So right now I am syndicating The Magic Circle , which is my spirituality journal. This is partly to encourage me to write spiritual thoughts there  instead of here , and keep it all on track. I tend to not write there. Do I have anything else to say here? I don't think I do. Oh, I read about a new kind of water spirit. This is relevant of course. The rusalka . I was absolutely captivated by these readings and they've been in my thoughts much this week. I think there is much wisdom in words about women idealizing these water maidens as what women once might have been, or could be. The mermaids are our kindred. This becomes a deep truth when I realize that deep within us lies both the male and female entity. I am not talking about the surface ideas of men and w

So I am switching stories again .. and we will start with famous opening lines (almost -- "it was a dark and stormy night" is bad writing, most nights are dark)..  It was dark and storming .. (Sorry for my manga-ka asides .. ) From within the laboratory, Cassandra could hear the clatter of Dr. Thorn's polished red nails across her keyboard. She sensed Dr. Thorn was in another bad mood. She wanted to reach out to her but had no idea how. She knew in the human world their status was disparate. Dr. Thorn was her supervisor, and Cassandra had to focus on the work Dr. Thorn set out for her to do. It was obvious she didn't want to be bothered, and Cassandra couldn't be pushy with her. But she found she was so lonely. She couldn't connect to any of the other girls in the laboratory at all. This was likely because she was more different from them than they could possibly imagine, but it didn't dissipate the feeling of failure that loomed over her when th

I would have been surprised to know that I sank into a deep death-like sleep following the stressful events of the evening and the morning. Despite the sun radiating across the ivory counterpane that covered my prone form, I remained oblivious until a loud clatter shocked me into alertness. The door burst open and a tall, slender figure entered. A beam of sunlight illuminated her closely-coiffed golden hair. "Who is this person?" she demanded. "What is going on here?" On her elegant heels was a slightly smaller form, a young, slim man whose pale face was framed by locks of black hair. His eyes, pale as a cat's, met mine for an infinitesimal moment before I panicked and gave a terrified shriek of indignation. My room was filled with even more people. Suddenly I found myself at the center of attention, torn from the grips of deep slumber, my hair loose and lost within the linens, my chemise a barely sufficient barrier against the penetrating gaze of the yo