I will start with pictures for AEDM 21:

fired masks, one of which will be rakued tomorrow afternoon, and the other two, if number one goes well, next Friday, along with a few more things I may make.

Earrings for longest friend, Linda’s, birthday.  She doesn’t read my blog so these are safe here.  Made and mailed today.  Just in time – almost missed it.  Where has this month gone?

Now on to hailing Wise and Wylde Women, which is more a gratitude list to all the wise and wylde  women in my life who are helping me through this transition I find myself in the middle of aptly as described by Briand Andreas:  If you hold on to the handle, she said, it’s easier to maintain the illusion of control.  But it’s more fun if you just let the wind carry you.  Titled:  Illusion of control.

I can say that after this week, I think any notion I had about even a modicum of control has swirled off into the vast wilderness of space and I am wafting along on the wind.  I didn’t choose it, seems it must be time.  I can track it (and that has to be another post) and it seems so right that I’m not even trying to pretend I’m in control, understand, have a clue.  I’m wrung out and happily exhausted and wide open and waiting for whatever it is that wants to come through – not here yet I don’t think, because I do believe it will show up here and I’m not sure it’s done that yet.  Well, actually I think it has done that over the last 10 years I’ve blogged, and before that in journals, and everywhere and always in my art (written and visual).  What I haven’t done yet is connect the dots, and truth be told I don’t think I’m supposed to scramble to do that.  I get the distinct gut feeling that it’s all going to lay itself out in front of me and all I will have to do is record it.  Of course that remains to be seen.

At the risk of leaving someone out, I’m going to name names.  If you feel left out please recognize that this isn’t a comprehensive list, it is a list of Now.  There are so many wonderful women and men who have played into my growth that I’d be typing for years.  So this is just right NOW in the vortex of this wind storm where I find myself shedding layers and getting scrubbed all shiny and clean.

Loran Hills for her work in honoring post-menopausal women on her private Facebook page.  Loran has sparked more than one journey for me since I met her on-line several years back through the Goddess Leonie (who has since changed her name and become like all the rest of the “do this and you’ll make a million” people out there)(that’s just my opinion of course).  Most recently, in addition to providing a really safe space to explore aging, she and I urged each other on to certification on Conscious Aging through The Noetic Institute.  We are running on parallel lines.

Jacqualine Marie Baxman (J.M.) and Tina Tierson – women who came in (how?  how did you ladies come in?) several years back at about the same time and who are forever linked in my mind even though none of us has ever met face to face.  I think of both of you as guides who appeared to walk with me and say wonderful supportive things to me and inspire me.

Leah Piken Kolidas for creating Art Every Day Month, which has pushed me to let go and create *something* for the last 8 years.  This year I shall again attempt to stay with the space that writing and creating every day opens up.  I wouldn’t have known about it were it not for her.

Dhyana McKenzie who encourages me to think so far out of the box that it reminds me that the only box there is out there is the one we create in our mind.

MaryIda Rolape and Connie James who, in addition to being great art pals, have expanded my view of what is possible here and now.

Suzanne Sheldon, another artist friend, who has willingly agreed to work with me to get the creation poem at the core of my Master’s thesis into ebook form, with my art, and then work with me to take it to a limited edition print book.

All the campers at Patti Digh’s Life is a Verb Camp that I recently attended (the weekend of the full moon as it turns out).  Patti calls it a Tribe.  I can’t help but agree and was and continue to be amazed at the wide open generosity and creativity of *everyone* I ran into.

Finally, Anne Rutherford with whom I’ve shared many an adventure over the last 15 years or so.  We had coffee today and as always slipped into deep spiritual conversation rather quickly.  Anne helped me uncage and free the hamster (if you want that to make andy sense you have to go back and read) and is the first to identify her when she returns in disguise.  Today I got smart because we have these amazing conversations and I leave and think, “WOW!” and then can’t remember the details – so I took notes.  Here are some of the things I jotted down:  Conscious Transformation is another way of saying “personal Alchemy” (I love that phrase and told Anne I am stealing it – instead she graciously said – “Just take it.”).  We talked about how transformation that is not coerced or controlled (as if – I think those things just make you stop in your tracks and *think* you are doing something – I’m learning it’s about riding the wind), when it comes through, is about how well you have prepared the field, what seeds you have planted or have drifted in on their own, about tending this garden and being patient because some seeds take a long time getting to harvest.

We talked about how alchemy is not magic (or magical thinking).  Alchemy connotes work – that work which each of us must do in our own unique way to turn the dross we have in hand into the gold we intuitively know is there.  Much like my intent to bring the archetypal Crone into modern day consciousness, a curiosity and playfulness around alchemy can bring the “dross to gold” of the initial meaning into our own spiritual realm where real gold is always waiting to be discovered, with careful respect, as we dig into the dark earth of our garden.  *Everything* goes into the cauldron at harvest. If the work isn’t done, the harvest will be lean.   And the Crone then works her alchemy *with* us, not on us at any age of transformation.  (Okay – admittedly, if I step back here, the metaphors aren’t all working….but remember this is my week of total imperfection and riding the wind – the work is translating the feeling, not worrying, just yet, about the wording).

We talked about politics, my own dismay/discouragement/depression over this last election and my wondering about what’s next and not having a clue.  Anne pointed out that none of us is responsible for solving all of the world’s problems – it has to be a collective effort and I thought then of what my own part is to be in this, and told her of how I would like to create a gathering place for creatives here in Southern Maryland, and women’s retreats on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and wondered if we had folks who might actually be interested in that.  We talked about women’s circles and drumming and dancing and, when one incubates in the earth (to continue the planting analogy)/hybernates through the winter of not knowing, how the Muses and all our mothers,  dreams and random thoughts, and art and words  show up and whisper to us what is next.  So it becomes important to be present and pay attention.  And instead of being in reaction (where I think I’ve spent my whole life), acknowledge and use that resting stage, however you define it, as a “pause” button to clear the thinking process away and make space for what’s a birthing.

We talked about so much more and despite my thinking I took good notes, I apparently did not.  Some things are meant to be captured in feeling and not in words, and that feeling will lead you all the way home, because, unlike words, it can’t be argued with.

I’ll stop here for tonight.  Stay tuned for more.  And thank all of your for walking with me on this journey.