Archive for the ‘Music’ Category

Our Guessing Game by The Moody Blues

December 19, 2008

Our Guessing Game

Walking in the sand
Thinking of things, adventures in my mind
Tall ships that sail
Across the ocean wide
They wont wait for me
See the way they glide away so gracefully
And with tomorrow what will become of me
They leave me so much to explain
Thats the start of our guessing game

There are times when I think Ive found the truth
There are times when I know that Im wrong
And the days when I try to hide my fears
Bless the days when Im feeling strong
Bless the days when Im feeling strong

Wonder why we try so hard
Wonder why we try at all
You wonder why the world is turning around
When in the end it wont matter at all

Standing in the town
Looking at people, counting their frowns
Unhappy faces, hurrying around
So blind they cannot see
All of these things
The way life ought to be
And with tomorrow what will they make of me
It leaves me so much to explain
Thats the start of our guessing game

There are times when I think Ive found the truth
There are times when I know that Im wrong
And the days when I try to hide my fears
Bless the days when Im feeling strong
There are times when I think Ive found the truth
There are times when I know that Im wrong
And the days when I try to hide my fears
Bless the days when Im feeling strong
There are times when I think Ive found the truth

                                         – The Moody Blues

 

I would have included a YouTube link, but I can’t fine one.

Love,

Stacy

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My Birthday is Friday, December 19

December 14, 2008

When I’m . . .  errr . . . 49

When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine?

If I’d been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door,
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?

oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oooo
You’ll be older too, (ah ah ah ah ah)
And if you say the word,
I could stay with you.

I could be handy mending a fuse
When your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride.

Doing the garden, digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?

Every summer we can rent a cottage
In the Isle of Wight, if it’s not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck, and Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line,
Stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, Wasting Away.

Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?

Whoo!

Thanks to the Beatles!

Love,

Stacy

The Immortal Flautist, Singer and Performer Extraordinaire, Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull

August 13, 2008

Rocks, red ones.

That was the subject line of one of my emails back and forth with my friend, Stephanie, who drove to Red Rocks with me and a picnic carefully packed into the front seat (think: rocking chair. It moves.) of her little red Nissan.

About 30 seconds into “Bouree,” I turned to Stephanie and said, “This alone  was worth $40.”

We arrived at Red Rocks around 4:30 pm. The venue didn’t open till 5:30. The opening act, Steve Luthaker of Toto, didn’t start till 7 pm. With careful instructions from another friend, Lawrence, who often goes to concerts and really knows his way around buying tickets, we were there to scan the streets for people selling tickets to other hopefuls like ourselves.

Near the first entrance, we saw a large white banner proclaiming “Tickets – Buy or Sell.” 

Well, we didn’t expect it to be that obvious, but we pulled in and discovered that due to 3 different laws, one covering Jefferson County, one covering the venue, and another one, it was prohibited to sell tickets either inside or within 100 yards of the venue. So, a clever entrepreneur negotiated a 10-year lease for a small pull-out space at the side of the road on private property. There, and there alone, could you buy or sell tickets.

When we pulled up, a charming African American fellow with papers and tickets in his hand, asked, “Cheap ones or good ones?” Stephanie and I said, “Cheap ones!” The best he could offere was 2 tickets for $120. We thanked him and drove on, hoping to find others. After circling once, we realized that there were no others being offered. We thought maybe we were too early, so we went off to have a nice picnic of fruit, crackers and cheese with chocolate for dessert by the Church of the Transfiguration’s labyrinth by the creek.

About 6:30 we decided it was time to go seek other tickets. It was then we realized there really were no other choices. So, we waited there, in the spattering drizzle hoping that someone would sell some cheaper tickests to Wilie and he would sell them to us. But there weren’t many to be had. Finally, at 7:30, he said, “Hey, look. If no one buys these last 2 tickets by 7:45, I’ll sell them to you for $40 each. Deal?” The face value was $74.50. If we had bought them online, fees would have made them $85 tickets. “Hey, that’s like 2-for-1,” he said. We agreed, and watched a little nervously while 2 or 3 other cars pulled through and turned down those tickets.

No one bought them, and at 7:45 pm, Willie sold us the tickets and threw in 2 rain panchos to keep us dry. Nice. We liked him. If you need tickets, see Willie.

I found out in February that Ian Anderson would be at Red Rocks in August. Lawrence, knowing my 30 year love of Jethro Tull, emailed me as soon as he found out. I spent the last seven months waffling about spending that kind of money on that kind of thing. I have a lifelong preference for buying albums at $12 over paying even $40 or $60 for concert tickets, a 3-hour thing, when I can buy an album that will last me until they change the popular playback medium once again. I think I have owned Songs from the Wood as an LP, 8-track, cassette and CD. Now I have it on iTunes, too.

Sheesh, 586 words and I haven’t even described the concert itself, yet. I barely know how. if you are not much into music, and if you don’t love Jethro Tull, thre is almost no way to convey what this was like for me. Let me try it this way:

Think of your Favorite Thing To Do.

Now, think of your favorite way to do your Favorite Thing To Do.

Now, think of doing it in one of the most beautiful, natural settings for your Favorite Thing, and knowing it could be the Last Time you have the opportunity to do it.

Got it?  Your senses are alive, you’re making the most of every moment, you’re diving deep into who and where and what and loving every minute of it.

it was like that.

The light show was provided by Mother Nature. Really. Facing the stage and looking up, there was an incredible show of lightening that went on for maybe an hour of the show.

I took a minute each time he started a new piece, to enter the title into my Palm Centro. On the second tune, Stephanie pulled out pen and paper, and I showed her that I had it covered.  Thank God for technology.

For those who are interested, here is the set list.

My Sunday Feeling
Living in the Past
Serenade to a Cuckoo
Mercy
So Much Trouble
Song for Jeffrey
Rocks on the Road
Bouree *swoon*
Too Old to Rock & Roll
New Day Yesterday
With You There to Help Me
Dharma for One
Heavy Horses
Thick as a Brick
Aqualung
Locomotive Breath

Someone at Rutgers has maintained a web site on Jethro Tull for at least the last decade. I refer to it for lyrics and discography:

http://remus.rutgers.edu/JethroTull/disco.html

Speaking of favorite things to do: I did some IAM Meditation during the concert. It certainly amplified the experience. I tried All It Is, Beginning Thinking, and a little thought-experiment where you imagine that everything you see is no thicker than a windshield and that is what you’re seeing, not a 3D image of reality like we think we see. Who knows?  it could be true.

Even thinking back, I can see doing some of the others. And I can do that now, like imagining that I don’t have words for the people, the rocks, the band. No words for any of it. Not even a word for looking at whatever-it-is. Just being with it.

I was aware that he started out slow, and built up. Likely he was conserving his energy. So, was the crowd. The average age of the audience was definitely over 40. Many were easily over 50 and more. Ian Anderson, himself, is 62. his birthday was Sunday, August 10. I wonder if there is something he likes to do in the US for his birthday?

Anyway, with the video monitor playing larger than life in front of me, I could see everything. Oh, and I started out with earplugs in, as Lawrence suggested, and that was a very good idea during the opening act, which was far louder. But I barely had them in during Jethro Tull’s performance. They weren’t really that necessary.

You can see Ian here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Anderson_%28musician%29

He looked just like that, only his vest was leopard spotted.

Here is where he talked about a riot that broke out during his last appearance at Red Rocks in 1971.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSGtKQZZYro

The immortal Mr. Anderson is still pretty damn sprightly for 62. He didn’t bounce and swing the flute as much as he did the first and only other time I ever saw the band, back in 1975, but by the time he got to Heavy Horses, he was amping up. Thick as a Brick, even more so. And he played and danced as full out as one could expect from a 62 year old man and then some, for Aqualung and the encore, Locomotive Breath.

I remember thinking, it’s that one-legged posture with the flute that does it for me. It’s the posture in yellow silhouette on maroon, that’s on the cover of Living in the Past. There’s a picture of that here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Living_in_the_Past

And the Wikipedia entry on Ian Anderson, has this to say about standing on one leg:

“His famous tendency to stand on one leg while playing the flute came about by accident. As related in the “Isle of Wight” video, he had been inclined to stand on one leg while playing the harmonica, holding the microphone stand for balance. During the long stint at the Marquee Club, a journalist described him, wrongly, as standing on one leg to play the flute. He decided to live up to the reputation, albeit with some difficulty. His early attempts are visible in the “Rock and Roll Circus” film appearance of Jethro Tull. In later life he was surprised to learn of iconic portrayals of various flute playing divinities, particularly Krishna and Kokopelli, which show them standing on one leg.”

I told you he hung the moon with that flute!

There are already a few videos of last night up on You Tube: Love it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzVxhRoD5O4

It was dazzling.

Am I Living in the Past?

Yes, sometimes.

Love,

Stacy

“Jack, do you never sleep —
  does the green still run deep in your heart?
Or will these changing times,
  motorways, powerlines,
  keep us apart?
Well, I don’t think so —
  I saw some grass growing through the pavements today.”

                  – Ian Anderson, jack-in-the-Green, on Songs from the Wood, 1977

End note: 

Lyle just called. He asked if I smoked a cigarette afterward. I told him I would have if I did that sort of thing.

Lyle was really the motivation for me to go down to an unknown place, with no tickets, just some hope and give this a shot. He knew that. That’s why he kept calling. He said, “What really matters is showing up. If you just show up, everything works out.”

Isn’t that the truth in just about everything?

SAC

Peace Now – Inner Peace Thoughts for 9/11

September 11, 2007

http://advancedmeditation.com/cmd.php?Clk=2095310

Hi,

Just in case some of you want to know about this . . .

Please Pass It On to Others!

The Call is Thursday 9/13

Do you know Gay Hendricks? He’s written over 30 best-selling transformational books — books about relationships, breathing, manifestation, even golf!

Gay is are offering an upcoming teleclass that I’d like to invite you to attend at no charge.

http://advancedmeditation.com/cmd.php?Clk=2095310

Here’s Gay’s message about the class:

   When I was in Boulder recently, I had dinner with an old friend,    Steven Sashen. He’s one of the best “system thinkers” I know. If you want to know what REALLY makes something work, or how to make something more powerful or efficient, he’s your guy. He and I are teaming up on a new meditation course that will be offered via teleseminar.

   Steven is a longtime meditator. And when he turned his systems-thinking scope on meditation he discovered something that truly impressed me, a set of insights and practices that I wish I’d had 30 years ago. (Some of you know that I’m a longtime  meditator–in fact, I haven’t missed a day of meditation since 1973. So, anything that fine-tunes meditation is right up my alley.)

   If I’d had Steven’s insights and techniques, I think it would have accelerated my practice and my spiritual growth by years. He’s taken people who are new to meditation or who couldn’t make it work  for them – he’s even worked with teenagers and homeless people–and after just a few minutes of instruction, they’ve had experiences of peace, and deep spiritual insights that take most meditators decades to find.

   Steven’s techniques work well for advanced meditators, too. If you already have a meditation or spiritual practice, you can make an almost instant leap to a new depth and expansion.

   With Steven’s techniques you don’t need to stop (or even slow down) your thoughts and you don’t need to take time out from your busy schedule. You can do them practically anywhere.

   I could tell you more, it would be better for you to experience it yourself. So, I’ve arranged a way for you to do that.

       Go to http://advancedmeditation.com/cmd.php?Clk=2095310
  
   When you get to the site, fill out the registration form and I’ll let you know about an upcoming free teleclass where you can discover for yourself how easily you can find deep body relaxation, greatly expanded awareness, and real inner-peace…even while the kids are demanding your attention or work is getting nuts.

   I hope you’ll join me for this new and exciting opportunity,

   Gay Hendricks

http://advancedmeditation.com/cmd.php?Clk=2095310

The teleclass is going to be really fun and interesting and there’s a chance to get a $400 gift. I hope you can make it, too.

presented by Garuda, Inc.

Have fun!

Love,
Stacy

“It is no sign of mental health to be well-adjusted to an insane world.”

                 The Dalai Lama

Intuition and Sexiness Go Hand-In-Hand

July 11, 2007

Didn’t you know?

No?

Maybe you were raised in the Puritan-influenced US.

Ah well. Had you been raised in the East, you might have a better clue, but then, maybe not.

Even the fundamentalists claim that God is all-knowing, all-seeing, all-hearing, which is to say: clairsentient, clairvoyant & clairaudient.

In other words, God is as intuitive as it gets.

So, when is a person intuitive?

When a person meditates, rests, immerses themselves in Who They Are, ie GOD… then, and only then are we intuitive.

We all do this all the time. It’s just that some of us notice it more and some of us trust this more.

Now . . . when is a person sexy?

Sex is the creative impulse. God is the Creator.

We are created in the image of a . . . Creator.

What does that make us?  Creators!

How do we do that? 

One way is SEX!

A person is sexy when they are . . .

Creative . . .

resting in the Energy that created them, open to being moved by God.

Musicians talk about how sometimes the music just plays itself.

Golfers… the shot just happened.

Runners – I wasn’t running. I was being run.

Meditators speak of being breathed.

Spirare is the Latin word for “to breathe.” God breathed the Spirit into us according to some mythologies.

These people have tapped into that place where they rest in God and are moved by the Spirit.

The whole “fall of man” myth is about how we try to seek that peace, intuition, and sexiness outside of ourselves, instead of inside where it always is.

That is why Jesus said, “Seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven, and all else shall be added unto you.”

Meditate. Try it.

That peace, that intuition and yes!  that sexiness . . . all comes from relaxing into Spirit.

I’m looking for the man who knows all that and wants to share it with me and others, perhaps traveling, teaching and speaking to groups around the world. And, on the lighter side, wouldn’t it be cool if he had long hair and wore poet’s shirts?

Love,

Stacy

Instant Advanced Meditation – Free Sample & Lifetime Guarantee

http://www.advancedmeditation.com/cmd.php?af=570391

“It makes all the difference in the world to know that the One we seek seeks us with greater fervor than we can imagine. Because of that, our seeking must include a form of spiritual relaxation, a kind of staying put while being completely awake, so that God has no trouble finding us.”

                       – Jason Shulman
                         Kabbalistic Healing, pg 3

What to do?

June 20, 2007

“If you don’t know, it’s not time.”

I heard Donald Epstein say this at a Network Chiropractic Transformational Gate in the 90’s. However, I believe he may have been quoting Ashleigh Brilliant.

In any case, it makes sense.

I mean, what would you do if a man you had not seen in 32 years, who could recount the specific details of the first and last times he ever saw you, and who had been looking for you all that time, suddenly showed up in your email inviting you to visit him?

Well, of course, I visited him.

Hmm. Liked him, with some reservations.

He is in a searching place, spiritually and emotionally. He’s looking for things I’ve found and things I often share with others both personally and professionally.

He’s my age, has 2 children, lives 1200 miles away and his hair is short.

I’ve used all of those as firm dealbreakers. But I like him, one child is about to turn 18, the other is 13 and lives with his mother. He’s willing to move and grow at least a ponytail worth of hair.

He’s taking pretty well to my lifestyle and spirituality, and it is all very new to him.

Hmm.

He’s a Priest Sage and there’s a ton of Romantic Mythology going on – the built up fantasies of 35 years. He was a very late bloomer. His success is professional. Mine is personal.

We can talk for hours. I wonder how long that will last?

It’s very romantic. The story would make a great movie.

But in real life I can’t tie up the plot neatly in a short period of time.

I’ll try to stay in touch about it.

Love,

Stacy

“It’s gonna take time, a whole lot of precious time.

 It’s gonna take patience and time,

 To do it, to do it, to do it right, child.”

                                 – George Harrison

 

Chocolate, the Complete Food

March 5, 2007

Let’s talk about chocolate.

Matthew Middendorf, folk musician extraordinaire, has just released his CD, “Chocolate, the Complete Food,” and that is what prompted this blog.

I’ve always liked chocolate, but I have never been one to crave it or sing its praises the way some of my friends do. As a child, when my grandmother, Mema, took me to the candy counter at the department store, I always chose either white chocolate or tingalings, a minty white chocolate covered candy. I almost never went for actual chocolate.

Somewhere around 2001 this all changed some.

By then, I had sampled enough different chocolates to know that I do really love a dark chocolate. Right now, my favorite is 65% Chocolove, made in Boulder, Colorado, by a man from Belgium and distributed at health food stores. (See what I mean? Betcha didn’t know all of that!)  It’s www.chocolove.com since I know you’re wanting some.

So, I was in this group of friends back then. We were kind of a support group. We called ourselves the God Group. What drew us together was a common love of spiritual discussions. No, not exactly the Christian kind, something very eclectic. We met on Sunday evenings and hung out together talking about what was going on in our lives. Come to think of it, it was mostly stories. Hmm.

Anyways, so I can pretty much tell you everyone’s favorite chocolate and how they take their water. It was just one of those things we noticed. Yes, some of them liked a variety, and some of them would take whatever was handed to them in order not to cause a fuss, but most of us had some pretty well-defined preferences about both chocolate and water (and pretty much everything else).

Think of Sally in the film, When Harry Met Sally. There’s a scene where she’s pretty specific about her food order. We were a room full of people just like that. Fortunately, we met in homes and brought potluck rather than badger waitpersons with our detailed requests.

Chocolate obviously comes in many flavors and forms. You may wonder how there could be so many ways to take water. Okay. I won’t try to list everyone, but here is a partial list as an example:

Becky takes hers hot in a mug and only uses it to warm her fingers. 

Loretta takes hers hot in a mug with lemon and actually drinks it.

Chris takes hers with ice and lemon.

Jared takes his however they bring it to him.

Mindy takes hers no ice, with lemon.

Me, make mine no ice.

See?

But I digress. We were discussing chocolate.

Cricket, lately, has been eating Lindt 77% Dark.

Chris likes Chocolove 65% Dark with Raspberries, and most any kind with fruit.

Loretta goes through phases, always dark. I don’t know what she’s into right now.

Becky goes for dark, doesn’t matter too much what else is there, as long as it’s dark.

Jared doesn’t eat much chocolate, but I’ve seen him take what was offered when it’s there.

Me, like I said, I really like white chocolate, and now dark.

I once had these people over for a party at my place. I bought a natural bridge mix with white and dark chocolate coated nuts, raisins, etc. I set out a bunch in a bowl and then I was busy with my company for a while. When I came back to the living room to check on things, I went to grab some of the white chocolate ones and found only dark!

I hope I wasn’t rude to my company, but I was so surprised, I just said, “What happened to all the white chocolate?” Sheryl piped up and said, “Oh, I ate all those. I love white chocolate.” I looked at her in amazement. No one else of my acquaintance likes white chocolate like I do. It happens that we are both Priest Scholars. Not enough data for a conclusion, but I’m curious whether there are others.

So, last night, when I heard that I needed to move because the home I’m living in is likely to sell and close in less than 2 weeks, what did I do?

I went for chocolate mousse tart in a dark chocolate lined tart shell with pecans and coffee, light and sweet.

Apparently, I have joined the ranks of people for whom chocolate is a comfort food.

Love,

Stacy

Medieval Girl

February 12, 2007

Something inside me relaxed in gratitude and comfort yesterday at brunch when Steven turned to me and asked, “In what century do you think you should have been born?”

Isn’t it wonderful when your friends know things about you that are so integral that you miss the forest for the trees until someone says something? I got all warm and fuzzy inside.

I said, “I don’t know. Medieval times. What year was that?”

I checked Wikipedia. Pope Gregory started our calendar on February 24 in 1582. No wonder I didn’t know what year it was!  We didn’t use those years. Somebody was just about to change our whole concept of time!

Wikipedia also says that medieval times date from the 5th to the 16th century. I’m kinda part of the latter period there, I think. I didn’t read it all. That’s about the period of kings, queens, courts and . . . courtesans!!!

How’s that for a Valentine’s Day thought?

I love castles and the idea of dungeons and lots of things.

I love men with hair down to the middle of their backs and leather lace up boots and knives at their hips, wearing billowing poet’s shirts and speaking with British or Celtic accents. Pirate types, too. Think Johnny Depp in “Pirates of the Carribean.” And gypsies!

They melt me into a puddle.

I know a little more than just the romantic version. I know a little about living without plumbing and heating with a woodstove. Not much, but I lived a year at 9000 feet. After 3 nights at 18 degrees, I could keep the fire going all night. Necessity being a mother, and all of that.

I sometimes describe myself as a cross between a courtesan and a tavern wench. Courtesans were generally educated. If you have never seen the movie, “Dangerous Beauty,” I highly recommend it. If you’re female and love sex and giving men their fantasies, take your tissues, you will need them. “Princess Bride” is another one.

Turns out that the woman sitting next to me at brunch, someone who had not been there before, loves “Dangerous Beauty,” too. We made a date to have dinner and chat about our common interests.

Here is the Wikipedia entry on courtesans, with a note that “the neutrality of this article is disputed.”  Ha, I’ll bet.

“A courtesan of mid-16th century usage referred to a high-class prostitute or mistress, especially one associated with rich, powerful, or upper-class men who provided luxuries and status in exchange for her services. In Renaissance Europe, courtesans played an important role in upper-class society, sometimes taking the place of wives at social functions.[citation needed] As it was customary during this time for royal couples to lead separate lives—commonly marrying simply to preserve bloodlines and to secure political alliances—men would often seek sexual gratification and companionship from a courtesan. There have been a few isolated cases of courtesans providing services to wealthy females, however.[citation needed] Courtesans usually enjoyed more freedoms than was typical of women at the time. For example, they were financially stable and independent. Being in control of their own resources meant that they did not need to rely on their spouses or male relatives to survive, as was the case for the majority of women.”

So, the Medieval period is first, then there was the Renaissance, followed by the Protestant Reformation.

You lose me at the Renaissance. I am a little out of my depth and preferences by then. You get a little too intellectual and stiff there. That’s fine for those with 1500 different interests and talents, but that’s not me. And I prefer not to put Decartes before the horse.

The Protestant Reformation was sort of kind of a step forward, in my opinion, from straight Catholicism. At least people were starting to think for themselves a little more, but it is nothing compared to the ideas that Christ actually taught, as far as I can tell.

Christ taught us to “seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven.” And then he told us where to look, “the Kingdom of Heaven is WITHIN.” Not in a book, not with a guru, not in a church, not in an organization… INSIDE.

Yeah, I have some affinity for that time, too. Mary Magdalene is my patron saint. She is indeed a saint in the Episcopal church.

I really love the castles. Can I have mine with heat and running water?

This prompts many people to ask if I am a member of SCA, the Society for Creative Anachronism. The answer is “no.” Oh, I might fit in with one group or another. I’ve gone to an event or two. I’d love to learn the dances. But for some reason it isn’t quite the fit I’m after. I don’t want to play at it, dress up in period garb and go to SCA events, really. Oh, I might with the right person.

And yes, I’ve been to a few Renaissance Festivals in a couple of states. (No pun intended.) They’re alright. I’m not a fan of large groups of people I do not know doing a multitude of different colorful things. (This aversion keeps me from Burning Man, too, since that’s often another question I am asked. That and the desert and the heat. No thanks!)

One of my favorite albums as a child was Oscar Brand’s “Bawdy Songs and Backroom Ballads, Volume III.” I had it memorized by the time I was 13 or 14.

Try this one:

She’ll Do It Again  

And for a sheep-skin, she’ll do it, she’ll do it,
And for a sheep-skin, she’ll do it again,
And for a cow’s horn, she’ll do it all morn,
And merrily turn, and do it again.

Among our young lasses is Muirland Meg,
She’ll beg you to do it she’ll beg and she’ll beg,
At thirteen her maidenhead flew to the gate,
And thedoor of thecage it is wide open yet

Her kettle-black eyes want to tickle you through,
Her lips seem to say it, “Kiss me, please do,”
The curls and the links of her bonny black hair
Would put you in mind that the lassie has mair.

An armful of love is her bosom sae plump,
A span of delight is her middle and rump,
A taper white leg, and a stomach in style,
And a fiddle nearby you can play for a while.

For love’s her delight, and kissing’s her treasure,
She’ll stick at no price and she’ll give you good measure,
So take her warm hand, mon, or better, her leg,
And sing of the praises of Muirland Meg.

 Here are the lyrics to one of my favorites, “Kafoozalem.” The tune is “London Bridge,” basically. I found 2 spellings and several versions worse, or better, depending upon your taste, than this one, but this is the one I learned as a child.

You can find the rest of them on this link:

http://www.google.com/musicl?lid=HdS1NX2xxcB&aid=Hpg2T_mzPSI

Chorus:

Hi ho Kafoozalem, the harlot of Jerusalem
Prostitute of ill repute
Daughter of the Baba.

Come listen to my tale of woe
It happened many years ago
When women rarely answered no
Way down in old Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

Kafoozalem was a wily witch
A horny whore, a brazen bitch
She caused all the lips to twitch
That liveth in Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

There was a prince both lean and tall
Whose manly arts made all to fall
His victims lined the Wailing Wall
That standeth in Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

One night returnin’ from a spree
His customary leer had he
Looked down the road and chanced to see
That horny wench Kafoozalem.

(Chorus)

With artful eye and cunning look
She led him to a shady nook
And to her bounteous bosom took
The pride of all Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

But he was too abrupt, alas
And so he made a hasty pass
That knocked Kafoozalem to the grass
That grows in old Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

But Kafoozalem was overgassed
She arched her back and loosed a blast
That sent him flying far and fast
Sailin’ o’er Jerusalem.

(Chorus)

And when the moon is bright and red
A flying form sails overhead
Still raining curses on the bed
Of that brazen bitch Kafoozalem.

(Chorus)

I also loved “Dynamo Hum,” by Frank Zappa, and dozens of others similar to these. 

That may be another blog, for another day.

Goodnight, boys and girls. 

Love,

Stacy (aka Anastacia)

Passion

January 22, 2007

So, I read Craig’s List personals ads. Why? Intermittent reinforcement, the strongest kind there is. If you don’t think so, think about how gambling works or read the research.

At the same time, I’m no slave to things that don’t work… when I notice it. CL has brought me some really fine friends to talk to, some of the highest spiritual experiences I’ve ever had with another human being whom I knew shared the space, and a lot of good conversations in with the admittedly time-wasting drek.

Today a man, likely a doctor or something since he mentions his pager calling him to the ER, today a man wrote about passion and invited women to reply to him. He wants to know about passion. I wrote him, yes. Frankly, I doubt that he’s really my type, but he lit a fire under my fingers, and I told him so. A reply to him was just that, and meant for an audience of one, but I think that I’d like to write about passion here… as if I ever really write about anything else.

I wrote to this point and paused. Now I’m back.

I sat here and categorized this blog (see below). While I did that, I wondered how to say what I am passionate about. This is kind of a forest-for-the-trees question to me. I am passionate about so much. If you knew me, you’d agree. I jump in with both feet so often. Yes, I’ve felt a bit beaten down these past couple or three years, yes, but my passion did not die. It rekindles itself from within.

I am wondering what I am “most” passionate about. I’d have to say mystical spirituality, direct experience of God, finding and following my Guidance, and sharing that with others.

Everything I do is oriented that direction.

I read books for spiritual inspiration and messages, so I don’t mind when Tom Robbins or Robert A. Heinlein or Spider Robinson pontificate a bit in their books. I love it. I watch movies for the same reason, so I am picky. I won’t sit still for just any movie. Contact, Dangerous Beauty (OMG), Sister Act, Dead Poet’s Society, Bliss, Mona Lisa Smile, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Secretary, Matrix, Harry Potter, Princess Bride . . .  get the idea?

I write passionately. Read my blogs and see if you agree or not.

I sing. That is all about passion! I chant kirtans and bhajans with my back arched and my hands up. I can bounce on a bed to ZZ Top. I like to drive fast with Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick blaring. I’ve got to get back to my voice lessons. That really made a difference. sigh

My favorite music and musicians are pretty passionate: Jethro Tull, Moody Blues, Beatles, Satriani, Leonard Cohen, Impossible Objects, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Dylan. Closer by 9 Inch Nails. That one about the Discovery channel. I may add to this list later.

Sex is my passion, too. People. Men. Women. How the hell do you do sex without passion? Oh, okay, there’s sensuous, soft, cuddly, warm, but that just an ember glow of passion – different from the full fire, and still passion.

If you speak astrology, you can find passion all over my natal chart. I have at least 7 planets and a bunch of asteroids in Sagittarius and Leo. Venus in Scorpio in the 8th house. Nothing more passionate than that! Ask anyone.

I am passionate about Truth.

That is a whole discussion in itself. Keeps cropping up. I’ll have to see if I’ve blogged on it directly yet or not.

My name is Anastacia and it means “resurrection.” That, as the Craig’s List gentleman observed, means the passion of Christ, the passion of Buddha, and more. I doubt anything less than passion would start a religion. Sure, Buddha seems like more of a quiet passion in full bloom, but how did he get there? Read Siddhartha by Herman Hesse if you do not know. He pursued Truth with passion. Mohammed? Now there is some passion, y’all. And how much passion do you have to have to pray 5 times a day? Goodness!

I told this CL fellow he lit a fire under my fingers. I think I’ll stop typing about passion now and feel some in other ways.

Love,

Stacy

Snow Blog

December 23, 2006

After being shut in on a mountain for 4 days, I suppose a snow blog is invevitable.

I have a stabbing pain between my shoulder blades from typing in awkward positions. The computer cable is on a coffee table. At first I was bending over too much. I realized that after the first day. Now I pull the laptop into my lap and it helps, but it really hurts right now.

The pain is also from shoveling the porch, and several large concrete steps twice. The second time I had to stop at the bottom step where the Sun does not reach, because 3 feet of very wet snow was too dense and heavy for me to lift.

So, let’s talk about being alone, being lonely and solitude.

I am fine with my own company. I like me. I am fine with being alone and keeping myself occupied. I have tons of writing to do. I listen to chants and sing and such like that. I read . . . a lot.

However, I only need maybe 10 or 20% of my time to be alone time. I much prefer having a few people around to talk to. I love being part of a group. This past couple of years marks the longest time in my life in which I have not been part of a spiritual social group of some kind.

I learned a lot from the trip to Ireland. I will not try to travel that much alone again. I will take a travel companion or three.

I had the same wonderful roommate for nearly 4 years prior to this 2 years of solitude. I’ve had 3 since then and Joy moved out in October. Then I got stuck on this mountain for 4 days.

It’s a beautiful mountain. It’s a beautiful home. I’m sure the hot tub is great, but I haven’t been in it. It has 3 feet of packed snow on top. I’m not sure I can lift it and I don’t really feel like going out there just yet. Maybe I will before I leave. Maybe I won’t.

My days have been about scooping 6 catboxes and I spent 2 days keeping a fire in the woodstove and decided it was way more work than it was worth. I don’t need to be that warm. It needs attention every 2 hours or it dies down too much to light the next wood. I did start the fire with only paper and hardwood on my second try. Thank God for that year on Coal Creek Canyon.

Right now, I just want to get down to a coffee shop and be among people. Well, that and writing this blog. I write in order to be with people, you know. To communicate with people and hopefully, some will communicate back.

It’s the first thing I can do about the over-abundance of solitude.

There is a sweet little college kid, and probably his roommate, down there shoveling snow again. The one guy spent 3 hours yesterday and only got maybe 1/5 of the job done. It is dense, heavy wet snow about 3 to 4 feet thick all over the driveway, parking lot, steps and cars.

His roommate couldn’t find any rock salt anywhere last night, so they stopped at sunset and promised to come back this morning. And here they are. A nice fellow plowed some last night, but then his truck got stuck, because it was dark and freezing up again. It helped. And the kids won’t have so much to do on the sloped driveway now.

I asked them to make getting the car out a priority. I need to check the Lafayette home and get the big blue trash can into the garage. It’s been on the street since Wednesday. I hope.

I meditate every day, usually when I wake up and again in the early afternoon. I’d just as soon do that with a group, as well. Alone is fine. It keeps me centered.

Jonathan Cainer wrote that recent data from the Hubble telescope shows that the Galactic Center or Core is not one star, but many stars all together. To me, that means that this period of abundant aloneness is going to end. I will notice there are other lights around me, translucent beings to share with.

Thank God!

Love,

Stacy

Astrology Note:

Pluto is conjunct the Galactic Center which is conjunct my natal Sun and Midheaven and in the same sign as my Mercury, Mars, and Jupiter. In fact, those 3 planets are all in Sagittarius right now, too. And of course, the Sun was in Sagittarius for the past month.