OK, I made some changes in the blog before this one.  I took out the part about if anyone responds then they have to make stuff for 5 people and all that.  In retrospect, that's kind of a lot.  So, anyway, the new terms are I would have some fun making something for you in the real world.  That's it.  N E takers?

What else?  The house across the street from us has this tree, a pine tree, that is about 40 ft. high.  Easily the tallest tree for blocks.  The trunk goes up about 14 feet, so that it's taller than the house, and then it splits into 3 parts as it goes up, and each of those parts by itself would be a large tree.  A week and a half ago, one of the three parts was blown down and broke off the tree.  It was about 30 feet long.  If it had fallen on the house, it would have broken the roof beams.  Instead, it fell straight across the front yard, parallel to the house, and across the driveway.  Usually they have one of their cars parked right where the tree fell, but on that night the person who drives it was gone to a special event that they got this strong desire to go attend.  :)   How's that for super?

When the tree was falling down, I heard it, but was working on a workshop that I had to present the next day, so I didn't respond.  That's what my concentration is like.  Max came into the room later and said, "Mom, didn't you notice that Karen's tree fell across her front lawn?"  And I just kind of looked up and said, "Yes, and No.  I've been working on this.  Are they ok?"  Then I thought, Why didn't I check on the noise? 

In the end, we surrender our life to the Universe.  Kali eats us, tears us limb to limb and swallows us whole, even as we are torn asunder.  Helpless, we plummet through darkness toward Light.  Enraptured we dance with JOY!  We see, from our new  perspective, that Heaven and Earth are ONE, and that there is no death.  Later in a time where there is no time, we play the game again.  For we are always playing the game!

that the more things change, the more they stay the same.  Interesting cartoon from the Chicago Tribune, 1934, courtesy of Margo.

I'm tired of working on myself and changing. Fuck it. I'm perfect the way that I am.

The way that I am is ripe, and soon it will burst and rot. But before it disappears, it will put out crazy amounts of seeds. These are my ideas, my gray hairs, or maybe yours. Who really cares?

I'm perfect, and I must change and reinvent myself constantly.

And I don't actually reinvent myself, because I'm simply a bastard child of my own culture. I'm just along for the ride.

But I'm an autonomous immortal spirit.

It's ALL true, and it's the paradox that is a transfiguring dance.