There are times when I feel compromised. What I mean by that is this. Like many folks, I have a great attraction to fairies… yes, Tinker-bell-like fairies. And I collect little statues depicting these diminutive fairies with wings, sitting on mushrooms or in bottles or dancing among the flowers.
I LOVE these little nature sprites! They’re sweet and innocent and a beautiful representation of the natural, elemental world, the betwixt and between of our world and the Faery Realm, i.e. the Otherw
Original post by About this Blog and software by Elliott Back
The year has come half way round again. It’s magical Midsummer, and we are celebrating our 4th year anniversary in the Dianic University. I salute you my students, spread across the globe, learning, self-teaching, sharing, building the Dianic Community.
The purpose of this community is to make sure women are not abandoned, not alone struggling, but connected to each other via friendships and sharing.
The Goddess of the ten thousand names must be pleased with our work to allow us longevity this long. Blessed be!
This last year went by so fast I don’t even know where to start to review it. It seems the years are going by faster and faster. Sometimes I worry that I don’t catch enough time to just be a planetary dweller.
I’d like to thank my students first, about a hundred women now, new […]
Original post by Z Budapest and software by Elliott Back
You know it’s Midsummer when my plum tree drops her fruits on the hot sidewalk. They land already ripe and roll away. Splash.
Walkers make a bee line to the other side, especially the ones dressed in white. My plum tree waits for those who have forgotten her, and if they step below her tree she drops on them plums and stains their clothes and head.
I often wonder what kind of people planned Oakland. The city is planted generously with these decorative plum trees. They bloom first thing in the spring and look wonderful. I guess this is the reason the early Outlanders planted so many of them.
Suddenly I have parking space in front of my house, because the stain takes the paint off the cars if they get blessed with a few plums.
My old car is used […]
Original post by Z Budapest and software by Elliott Back
Seasonal
Don’t even try to pronounce it. It’s a sleepy little town on the puszta, in eastern Hungary. My fraternal grandparents and my father grew up there. I visited there last summer in the worst heat wave.
Heat wave in Budapest is intensified by the presence of the many stones and bricks, but here on the plains, it’s the earth that holds the heat, it’s the earth that exhales it on you as you walk. Your face burns, it’s a relentless heat, with no wind to lift the spirit.
First I thought I’d stay in this little town four days, breathe in the town’s past and present. I’ll do some good and then come home. My gay cousin Andy was driving me, bless his soul. We hooked up with Zoltan Nemeth, a local folk historian, who knew everything about the old families, mine […]
Original post by Z Budapest and software by Elliott Back
I have learned this expression from Jane Fonda’s new book called “Jane Fonda’s words of politics and passion” (The New Press).
Apparently she got this from Eve Ensler the playwright and actor of the “Vagina Monologues” fame. (The play has encircled the world, I have seen it performed in Hungarian in Budapest)
I have read the book cover to cover in two days. I often wished her speeches were avaible to ponder in print. It brought back to me the young times in 1972 when I met Jane at the Venice Women’s Center. She was very pregnant(with Vanessa) and I was in love for the first time with a woman. (Stayed together with her 17 years, still good friends)
Jane came to speak to us with her slide show from Viet Nam. We were all awed by this passionate actor who actually had brains and used them! Yes, she was […]
Original post by Z Budapest and software by Elliott Back
Intermission is over. Please take your seats..
Yes… the topic is Mammals…as in human beings.
We think very highly of ourselves because we are humans and mot animals. Oh, yeah? Here is one thing animals refrained from doing: they don’t THINK, because they have true scruples.
There have been many theories we made up about god. As the ages pass and we as species evolve the gods evolved with us. But in this day and age we make a lot of money off god and speaking for god, because he cannot speak for himself. It’s like we need the TV preachers to channel god for us.
I tune into the TV: xian shows, see what do they do there. It’s pretty much all the same. God needs human money. They need money to keep channeling god for us, and they […]
Original post by Z Budapest and software by Elliott Back
DANCING IRISH GYPSY WINGS
Gray angel wings – sun pushes to shine through
oppressed shroud of conformity, tapping rhythms with
fingertips as Goddess woman, full of FIRE – fumbles under
restrictive stares and Tight-lipped smiles, uncomprehending
the Bold passage, shining behind blue-green eyes.
Glancing aside, fearful such soul-wells might Bewitch them
into the Otherworld – not of Faery or the folklore they live so
Well, but freedom and full-Bodied Life, where
Abandonment is tossed toward dogmatic
Original post by About this Blog and software by Elliott Back
Once upon a time there was a very tall man called Usama who dreamed to die and go to Heaven. Not just any old Heaven, but into a heaven where 72 virgins awaited him and his every wish.
He then died as a suicide bomber. His last thought was about the feminine softness and submission. As his body parts were blown to bits and pieces, his soul howered over the scene waiting for the virgins to come and take him somewhere lovely and tend to his loneliness.
As the dust settled over the bombing area, and the people were running around collecting the other dead people, he waited patiently for his turn. Nobody came for his parts. Nobody cried for his life gone. It started to dawn on him that this 72 virgin story may not be true. And then what? He killed himself […]
Original post by Z Budapest and software by Elliott Back
The celebration and veneration of the dead was an ancient holy day in May called Lemuria. In our culture it has transformed into Memorial weekend, venerating the fallen. Either way they were given burnt offerings, much like barbeque ribs today. Celebrated with eating and drinking. Food was left out for the dead or the poor who walked by.
Since it was still not very warm, Zyna and I went to the Piedmont cemetery for our walk. There was action there. Motorcycle leather jacketed men roared up the quiet hill, in respectful single line.
All the military related graves had little flags fluttering in the wind. Under my most favorite tree, my Oak mama, where I usually pay my respects by singing and chanting into her mossy crotch, there was somebody else.
She was on ground, a young woman, her face covered with […]
Original post by Z Budapest and software by Elliott Back
Seasonal
