currently painting hanuman holding a female body…as the grist turns the mud into a pearl, that is me on the inside, waiting to unfurl. i keep making mistakes. just like the rest of the human race. going too fast. not listening to my inner voice. being shot with arrows and making sure not to shoot second arrows in. sitting under the dogwood tree, watching every thought’s sharp tip blade threaten. wishing to cry but not able. tenderness seeking. wanting to be smitten. love, where are you? you are inside me. you are me. i know. i feel it. keep on feeling it. ease on down the road. grown up love is different. it’s not about sameness. nor being seized by the inner animus. it’s not projecting your wounds and desires, selfish to posses, or needy and careless. i don’t have a type. there is no sense of his physical body, it could be any color, height, size. but his essence i already feel inside. no more selfish men. you know fifty shades of grey? i know fifty shades of selfish. only one woman can let those selfish shades in…and i am fully accountable. not anymore will i let those shades in. not the nice version of selfish, not the manipulative version of selfish, not the passive version of selfish, not the emotionally disconnected version, not the magical version, not the mixed message version. not any version. met with my unconscious autonomous archetype whose been seizing my conscious intentions, and we are making alchemy. true love, i know you better now. there is great mutual respect between us, mutual values about the world and humanity, and mutual autonomy between our two souls….like the two pillars on either side of the high priestess card, holding up an internal universe that she represents, filled with mystery and wisdom, feeding us both separate and together. you know that old version of romantic love, where you just get attached after having fun and sex for a while, until you are a couple? fuck that. fuck attachment. i don’t need it. attachment is replaced with choice. and grist is here for a reason, to turn attachment into choice, making a lotus from the mud. all for a good cause. but sometimes you gotta cry too, girl. stop trying to be strong all the time these days now that you’re mastering your insides. falling means not only watching yourself fall, but really letting yourself fall. don’t talk yourself out of replacing the softness of your heart for something made out of steel wool. trash the armor and feel. you know the paradox is where it’s at…and for every reason, is the unknown sitting like a fat crow on a slim wire. emotional treason. karma’s season. it’s not your fault. you are both fire and water. keep making art. keep reading that beautiful book. keep reducing everything you do that hurts other humans and the planet. write write write. paint paint paint. make up the workshop with delight cause you love to give in this way. each morning that you wake, truly is a new one. don’t forget that you know how to swim through the shit…and turn it into gold. shape the block of clay into a new mold. this is what it looks like. machete down the jungle of unconscious bullshit. oh stop cussing already. use your words, tired child. the wind is blowing….probably to send dandelion seeds around. spring wants to grow new life up from the ground….so put your feet on it. you are not the wind. repeat: you are not the wind. you are a real girl with human skin. hanuman is the wind and he will help you leap. downward dog is your redemption. upward dog your sacred intention. get there today. your other pillar is getting there today too. he is looking for you. remember that mantra: until it’s the right one, it’s the wrong one. keep it simple. so many other aspects of life to focus on, one track passionate scorpio. the day is a beauty….