sidewalk cracks and in betweens / life in a web

whew how the spirits of places guide our ups downs inspirations despair! been back 2 weeks in portland, bopping around writing hammering gardening dancing petting cats drawing pictures making epic dinners telling stories giving gifts.

hey you, wearing your nihilist craziness anxious ambiguity like a crown of clover buds and yampah roots, let's walk together behind the goats and watch their buttholes open and close like portals to another world where pooping is easy for everyone and we can digest much more of this world without being poisoned!

here's a question: what do we do with the products of industrial civilization and the industrial food system?
here's a question: how do you call yourself back home?
here's another one: when was the last time you did something unpleasant or hard for someone you love?
and: what plants do you use eat interact with daily?
and: how are you feeling this shift into august in your body, rhythm, state of mind?

hum, these days for me have been some HARDCORE HANGING OUT
which is also sometimes organizing & planning for the life and world i want to live in
i want for future children to live in
that i was called into being to help make
family-making without gettin wholesome
keeping my goodness and magic woven with nastiness and perversity
dancing out rhythms of place and being and priorities
drawing out maps of desire and walks

pshaw let me suck on your liver
taste the bloody dandelion root
drink milk-blood smoothies like i don't believe in the circuitry of disgust
raw testicles like the most special and most easy to put in your mouth
activate your third eye
touch your bones to help you remember their knowing
"your body evokes my body" we danced this
we danced slapped poked spun pushed edged this into being

what comes easily is not always because it existed before
but flows into existence because everything was ripe for its birth
already known and remembered even as as the most new just-imagined

ROOTS. BONES. MOVEMENTS. REWILDING. IMAGINATION. THE aRT wORLD. DROP OUT. AT HOME. ALIGNMENT. TENDRILS. LEARNING. BREAK. BUILD. WALK. SING.

an outline for stories i'd like to tell:
i. walking delicately in a web of beloveds / polyglamory and lessons on boundaries.
ii. moving from homelessness to homefulness.
iii. after death.
iv. nihilism and goat herding.
v. lessons from the hoop / dancing between the wild and the city.
vi. faeries and witches.
to be continued.

leaving soon to be moving again, back to the woods to the olympic peninsula to wandering to revisiting. lovin y'all like summer.

where's leli?

In a bronze chamber, faced with the silent handkerchief of a strangler, hope has been faithful to me;

yeah to speak from my tentacles, i'm a little sad that it seems all of the squidbloggers but nautilus & i have fled from the south side enclave. (rollypolly left today for the western coast and mr. malic was compelled by irresistable opportunity to a fairyland of fun in michigan.) but so many adventures! i knew this would be a blog of adventurers and i've been inspired to find my own adventures this summer as well as to recognize how amazing the people who enter and leave my life are. you are among these rare squidkindred.

last night i dreamt i was rolling spliffs and driving west in a red car full of people i didn't know. ah ah!

unrelatedly, i would like to direct your attention to the ancient book of sex and science where the makers of monsters, inc. have turned their attention to weighty matters.

today i was singled out from the masses for a job interview at istria cafe, which has yet to occur but when it does will hopefully result in a deluge of coffee beans, tips, new buddies, life sustained by minimal wages, and sprinklings of consumerist delight.