New Blog.

go here.

VETE A VOTAR!!!!

GO VOTE!!!

and then join the huddled, hopeful masses in anticipation.

Nuevo.

I started another blog. I wasn't going to tell anyone or even allow anyone to see it until I hit the road again. But, really, I kind of already have. I'm on the Road. So, it's open now.

I realized the only reason I was waiting was because I wanted to be far away when everyone (or anyone) started reading it.
Scaredy-cat.

So, now begins the next phase, the new layer. Shedding old skin and...blogs, apparently.

It is what it is.

Love.

I Miss...

...Everyone.

don't get me wrong. there is still family here yet! but most, it seems, are on the road and incomunicado. sigh.

mi querida hermana, la Sarita, me escribio y me invito a te for two...in Argentina. I can just imagine it now...Sara and I in our finest rags, barefoot and dirty, sitting down for tea with exotic birds singing in the trees above us, while the mangoes, so heavy with sweet nectar, fall to the ground at our feet. (in my fantasy, there is also a waterfall lightly misting us, cooling us off in the afternoon heat with a rainbow reflected in it's spray...asking too much?)

sigh.

i feel like i'm at the starting gate, waiting for the gun to fire....wait for it....wait for it....and still waiting. man, it's killing me...slowly.
ok, maybe that's dramatic. most days i am grateful for exactly where i'm at. Life is good. truly.
somedays i'm just a little impatient. :)

really all i want to do is play guitar, write, read, and art all day long.

is that so much to ask?


Love-

the big it.

it drips off moments of subtle perfection

and pools around my dirty feet 

where they touch such beautiful earth

it hangs in the air 

like the last note suspended

of the last song that played

it hides in the cracks 

in the old buildings walls

it creeps like vines

and deepens like roots

it's shining out of everyone

through everything

despite it all

because of it all

celebrate.

you are here.

Oooouuuuuuuuucchh.

Ouch.Ouuuch. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

Hmmm.

Haven't posted in a while.
been doing a lot of writing on paper- which has been nice, refreshing.
Sometimes I want to sit and type, and things seem to flow more freely that way. Other times, I need to move my hand across a page.
Don't know why.

Life has been really busy lately. So much happening, changing.

I have a new friend. :)
He's someone I work with. He is quite possibly one of the most hilarious people EVER. And insightful and wise in his own way. I actually write things down and take notes...so that I can recall exactly what he said later.

I was gonna post some of his sayings, but, I don't know if they'll translate onto a blog...there's a lot of gesturing and a fantastic (or should i say fabulous?) accent that you've just gotta hear.

Love that guy.

...Sorry, I feel like i just teased you! Next time you see me, ask me, and I'll do an impression for you. Hilarious.

OH.GOD.WHY.

Debates make me want to gnaw my fingernails to death.

John McCain is nothing new. Same old bullshit. Same old aggravating, truth-twisting, bullshit that will only take this country (and the rest of the world along with it) further into the mire that the current Administration has created. Unbelievable.

Please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE don't fuck this one up America. PLEASE.

A Handmade Life.

There are flecks of paint
still gracing my hands
from the creative flurry
that erupted out of me
a night ago.
there is dirt
beneath my fingernails.
a peacock feather earring adoring just one ear,
-just because-
i am in love
with what is unfolding before me
with guts and glory
and paperclips.
with hummingbirds and wasps
blackbirds and kitty purrs.
i.
am.
in.
love.

the most precious thing
is happening-
i am weaving.
i am sewing, knitting, growing.
i am pruning.
i am choosing.
i am creating a Life of my own,
by hand.
by sweat and blood and tears.
by laughter and singing.

by listening and asking myself,
first and only,

"What do YOU want?"

Eve Ensler on Sarah Palin.

Eve Ensler, the American playwright, performer, feminist and activist best known for 'The Vagina Monologues', wrote the following about Sarah Palin:

Drill, Drill, Drill.

I am having Sarah Palin nightmares. I dreamt last night that she was a member of a club where they rode snowmobiles and wore the claws of drowned and starved polar bears around their necks. I have a particular thing for Polar Bears. Maybe it's their snowy whiteness or their bigness or the fact that they live in the arctic or that I have never seen one in person or touched one. Maybe it is the fact that they live so comfortably on ice. Whatever it is, I need the polar bears.

I don't like raging at women. I am a Feminist and have spent my life trying to build community, help empower women and stop violence against them. It is hard to write about Sarah Palin. This is why the Sarah Palin choice was all the more insidious and cynical. The people who made this choice count on the goodness and solidarity of Feminists.

But everything Sarah Palin believes in and practices is antithetical to Feminism which for me is part of one story -- connected to saving the earth, ending racism, empowering women, giving young girls options, opening our minds, deepening tolerance, and ending violence and war.
I believe that the McCain/Palin ticket is one of the most dangerous choices of my lifetime, and should this country chose those candidates the fall-out may be so great, the destruction so vast in so many areas that America may never recover. But what is equally disturbing is the impact that duo would have on the rest of the world. Unfortunately, this is not a joke. In my lifetime I have seen the clownish, the inept, the bizarre be elected to the presidency with regularity.
Sarah Palin does not believe in evolution. I take this as a metaphor. In her world and the world of Fundamentalists nothing changes or gets better or evolves. She does not believe in global warming. The melting of the arctic, the storms that are destroying our cities, the pollution and rise of cancers, are all part of God's plan. She is fighting to take the polar bears off the endangered species list. The earth, in Palin's view, is here to be taken and plundered. The wolves and the bears are here to be shot and plundered. The oil is here to be taken and plundered. Iraq is here to be taken and plundered. As she said herself of the Iraqi war, 'It was a task from God.'

Sarah Palin does not believe in abortion. She does not believe women who are raped and incested and ripped open against their will should have a right to determine whether they have their rapist's baby or not.

She obviously does not believe in sex education or birth control. I imagine her daughter was practicing abstinence and we know how many babies that makes.

Sarah Palin does not much believe in thinking. From what I gather she has tried to ban books from the library, has a tendency to dispense with people who think independently. She cannot tolerate an environment of ambiguity and difference. This is a woman who could and might very well be the next president of the United States. She would govern one of the most diverse populations on the earth.

Sarah believes in guns. She has her own custom Austrian hunting rifle. She has been known to kill 40 caribou at a clip. She has shot hundreds of wolves from the air.
Sarah believes in God. That is of course her right, her private right. But when God and Guns come together in the public sector, when war is declared in God's name, when the rights of women are denied in his name, that is the end of separation of church and state and the undoing of everything America has ever tried to be.

I write to my sisters. I write because I believe we hold this election in our hands. This vote is a vote that will determine the future not just of the U.S., but of the planet. It will determine whether we create policies to save the earth or make it forever uninhabitable for humans. It will determine whether we move towards dialogue and diplomacy in the world or whether we escalate violence through invasion, undermining and attack. It will determine whether we go for oil, strip mining, coal burning or invest our money in alternatives that will free us from dependency and destruction. It will determine if money gets spent on education and healthcare or whether we build more and more methods of killing. It will determine whether America is a free open tolerant society or a closed place of fear, fundamentalism and aggression.

If the Polar Bears don't move you to go and do everything in your power to get Obama elected then consider the chant that filled the hall after Palin spoke at the RNC, 'Drill Drill Drill.' I think of teeth when I think of drills. I think of rape. I think of destruction. I think of domination. I think of military exercises that force mindless repetition, emptying the brain of analysis, doubt, ambiguity or dissent. I think of pain.

Do we want a future of drilling? More holes in the ozone, in the floor of the sea, more holes in our thinking, in the trust between nations and peoples, more holes in the fabric of this precious thing we call life?

Eve Ensler September 5, 2008

Here It Is.

This is a website promoting the film.

It is truly incredible and worth checking out. Maybe YouTube has it for free or perhaps I'll just get it and pass it around.

Wow.

Forgiveness.

Watching an amazing documentary/film on forgiveness.

A few names...

Thich Nhat Hanh
Thomas Moore
Elie Weisel

Some issues...

Catholic/Protestant division
Attacks on an Amish Community
The Holocaust

Phew. Incredible. Will post title or link, etc. when one is mentioned...

-Paz

Where We Are Headed.

CHECK THIS SHIT OUT.

NO JOKE, people. No 'Effing Joke.

The "tactics" used by the Police at the Republican National Convention DO NOT CONFORM TO THE STANDARDS ADOPTED BY THE UNITED NATIONS.

AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL IS CONCERNED, INVOLVED, AND CALLING FOR IMPARTIAL INVESTIGATION.

These reports are right in line with the "tactics" and force shown on the border, at the protest I have talked about here before.

BELIEVE IT. THIS IS REAL.

THIS IS NOT WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE.


[-Thanks for the heads up, Jeremy.]

New.

Well I heard a story
about Alex Supertramp,
he dared to live a Dream he loved
and he died in the cold and damp,
We could tell his story-
tell it to scare our kids
into living lives of monotony
at the cost of being Free

Or we could tell his story,
Tell it in such a way-
It makes everyone a Believer
in the Magic of Today-
it makes everyone a Believer
in the Magic of Today.

My sister's name is Sara
she lives Life on the Road
she's never in one place for long-
it's sad to see her go,
but she's daring to live a Dream she loves
and that's more than most can say-
She makes all of us Believers
in the Magic of Today-
she makes all of us Believers
in the Magic of Today.

Every Mountain has a Valley
Every River curves and rolls-
With every step we take,
we walk the Great Unknown...
We walk the Great Unknown!

We all write a story
with the lives we choose to live-
the fears, the hopes, the Dreams we have
what we Take and what we Give-
For each one of us it's different,
if we go or if we stay-
but never stop believing
in the Magic of Today,
Never stop believing
in the Magic of Today.

From The ARC.

Concerning the summer blockbuster, Tropic Thunder.


"Stiller plays Tugg Speedman, a fading action star who earlier failed in his bid for an Oscar as 'Simple Jack,' a man with an intellectual disability. 'Simple Jack' is featured as a film-within-a-film, with Stiller sporting a classic institutional bowl haircut and bad teeth. The film within-a-film's promotional poster bears the subtitle "Once upon a time there was a retard." A promotional website for the Simple Jack movie, that has since been withdrawn, bears the slogan, "What he doesn't have in his head, he makes up for in his heart." A satirical plot synopsis quotes a critic as saying that Speedman's Jack was 'one of the most retarded performances in cinema history.'

Several staff members of The Arc, along with self-advocates and other representatives of the disability community, were able to preview the movie. It is clear that the film’s depiction of people with intellectual disabilities is derogatory and demeaning. The Arc of the United States, in coalition with other disability groups across the nation, is calling for a national dialogue on the language and treatment of people with intellectual disabilities. "

Dear America,

Please don't break my heart.

I really believed in you. In 2004, when election time came, I truly believed that you could never, in your right mind or pure conscience, vote Bush back in.
But you did. And it took me months to recover. My heart and mind, even my spirit, were so completely confounded, disbelieving, and wounded.

Now, here we are again, nearing an election.
and Barack Obama makes me hope so much that it hurts.
I have barely been able to watch as his campaign has unfolded. The convention, almost unbearable. The paper this morning, too.

America, this is our chance. People are believing again. The world can change, but first we must make the changes here that have been so long needed. The weight of the world hangs on the outcome of this election- people all over the globe are holding their breath, waiting to see if we will condemn every last person on the planet to another Administration that is out of touch and completely self-serving, or if we will take a leap of faith and dare to hope for a better future.

Please, America, don't break my heart.

With Love and Respect and even Hope,
Rachell

Nail On The Head.

"The nature of negative complexes and cultures is to pounce upon any discrepancy between the consensus about what is acceptable behavior and the indiviual's differing impulse. Just as some people go mad to see a single leaf upon their walkway, negative judgement draws out its saws to amputate any member that does not conform.

...For a wild child born into a rigid community, the usual outcome is to experience the ignominy of being shunned. Shunning treats the victim as if she does not exist. It withdraws spiritual concern, love, and other pyschic necessities from that person. The idea is to force her to conform, or else to kill her spiritually and/or to drive her from the village to languish and die in the outback.

If a woman is shunned, it is almost always because she has done something or is about to do something in the wildish range, oftentimes something as simple as expressing a slightly different belief or wearing an unapproved color--small, small things as well as large ones. It must be remembered that an oppressed woman not so much refuses to fit as she cannot fit without also dying."

(241).

What's Been Going On With Me Lately...

From Women Who Run With the Wolves...


"The shadow, also, however, can contain the divine, the luscious, beautiful, and powerful aspects of personhood. For women especially, the shadow almost always contains very fine aspects of being that are forbidden or given little support by her culture. At the bottom of the well in the psyches of too many women lies the visionary creator, the astute truth-teller, the far-seer, the one who can speak well of herself without denigration, who can face herself without cringing, who works to perfect her craft. The positive impulses in shadow for women in our culture most often revolve around permission for the creation of a handmade life.

These discarded, devalued, and "unacceptable" aspects of soul and self do not just lie there in the dark, but rather conspire about how and when they shall make a break for freedom. They burble down there in the unconscious, they seethe, they boil, till one day, no matter how well the lid over them is sealed, they explode outward and upward in an unchanneled torrent and with a will of their own.
Then it is, as they say in the backwoods, like trying to put ten pounds of mud back into a five-pound sack. What has erupted from shadow is hard to cap once it has been detonated. Though it would have been far better to have found an integral way to consciously live out one's joy in the creative spirit than to have buried it at all, sometimes a woman is pushed to the wall, and this is the outcome.

The shadow life occurs when writers, painters, dancers, mothers, seekers, mystics, students, or journeywomen stop writing, painting, dancing, mothering, looking, peering, learning, practicing. They might stop because whatever they just spent long with did not come out the way they had hoped, or did not recieve the recognition it deserved, or countless other reasons. When the maker stops for whatever reason, the energy that naturally flows to her is diverted underground, where it surfaces whenever and wherever it can. Because a woman feels she cannot in daylight go full-bore at whatever it is she wants, she begins to lead a strange double life, pretending one thing in daylight hours, acting another way when she gets a chance.
When a woman pretends to press her life down into a nice tidy little package, all she accomplishes is spring-loading all her vital energy down into shadow. "Fine, I'm fine," such a woman says. We look at her across the room or in the mirror. We know she is not fine. Then one day, we hear she has taken up with a piccolo player and has run off to Tippicanoe to be a pool hall queen. And we wonder what happened, because we know she hates piccolo players and always wanted to live on Orcas Island, not on Tippicanoe, and she never before mentioned anything about pool halls.

Like Hedda Gabler in Henrik Ibsen's play, the wildish woman can pretend to live "an ordinary life" while gritting her teeth, but there is always a price to pay. Hedda sneaks a passionate and dangerous life, playing games with an ex-lover and with Death. Outwardly, she pretends to be content wearing bonnets and listening to her dry husband cavil about his dusty life. A woman can be outwardly polite and even cynical, but inwardly hemorrhaging.

Or, like Janis Joplin, a woman can try to comply until she can't stand it any longer, and then her creative nature, corroded and sickened by being forced into the shadow, erupts violently to rebel against the tenets of "breeding" in reckless ways that disregard one's gifts and one's very life.
You can call it anything you like, but sneaking a life because the real one is not given room enough to thrive is hard on women's vitality. Captured and starved women sneak all kinds of things: they sneak unsanctioned books and music, they sneak friendships, sexual feeling, religious affiliation. They sneak furtive thinking, dreams of revolution. They sneak time away from their mates and families. They sneak a treasure into the house. They sneak their writing time, their thinking time, their soul-time. They sneak a spirit into the bedroom, a poem before work, they sneak a skip or an embrace when no one's looking.

To detour off this polarized path, a woman has to surrender the pretense. Sneaking a counterfeit soul-life never works. It always blows out the sidewall when you're least expecting it. Then it's misery all around. It's better to get up, stand up, no matter how homemade your platform, and live the most you can, the best you can, and forgo sneaking the counterfeits. Hold out for what has real meaning and health for you.

...It is difficult to sneak little shreds of life this way but women do it every day. When a woman feels compelled to sneak life, she is in minimal subsitence mode. She sneaks life away from the hearing of "them," whoever the them is in her life. She acts disinterested and calm on the surface, but whenever there is a crack of light, her starved self leaps out, runs for the nearest life form, lights up, kicks back, charges madly, dances herself silly, exhausts herself, then tries to creep back to the black cell before anyone notices she is gone.

Women with poor marriages do this. Women made to feel inferior do this. Women filled with shame, women fearing punishment, ridicule, or humiliation do this. Instinct-injured women do this. Sneaking is good for a captured woman only if she sneaks the right thing, only if that thing leads to her liberation. In essence, sneaking good and filling and brave pieces of life causes the soul to be even more determined that the sneaking stop, and that it be free to lead life out in the open as it sees fit.

While we could rightfully be proud of the soul brave enough to try to sneak a something, an anything, under such drought conditions, the fact remains that that alone cannot be the sole issue. A whole psychology has to include not only body, mind, and spirit, but also, equally, culture and environ. And in this light, it must be asked at each level how it came to be that any individual woman feels she has to cringe, flinch, grovel, and plead for a life that is her own to begin with."

(pages 236-240.)

Reflecting.

Last night I was priviledged to be a part of a real-life Dream unfolding.

A sister-friend of mine is writing a book, a collection of stories of her Life experiences on the Road. It is incredible. Magic. Brimming and overflowing with Light and the beauty of a believing heart who has Surrendered.
In order to fund a printed version of her book, she is recording her stories onto CD, in order to raise the funds she needs, and to begin to share her stories with the world.

She asked me to read and sing them for the recording.

I am so deeply honored to be a part of this project, which is something I believe in with all of my heart. And it was one of the most precious experiences of my whole Life, to sit around a fire, in the company of friends and family who love and support her as well, and to experience her stories and lessons through reading them aloud.

Oh man.

I.....

hate.......

FAX MACHINES!!!!!!!!!!!

when i say this in my head-(i can't very well scream it out in the library can i??) it sounds like how it might sound if I were standing in a huge cavern...it echos loudly and rumbles angrily.

now that you know how the acoustics in my head sound- (cavernous?!) i will humbly apologize for being a wing-nut-walking-the-edge-on-a-friday-afternoon-stuck-in-an-office-with-no-real-light-or-air, and bid you adeiu.

Adeiu.