Shad Fest 2011

Shad Fest 2011

making it real

making it real

We are Back...

Now is a good time to join our continuing commentary on life as a woman- aware - and alone.

YO ( as the Philly kids say).....

YO
Is everybody dead? or just asleep at the wheel. In an effort to avoid working I just reread the blogs contained herein that withered and died in the fall of our discontent. How about some commentary?
How about one effort for cosmic consciousness?
I'm ready to post and I have a backlog of things to say... Please join me or this forum or will end up becoming just Fiiona's diary that nobody reads.

September song...

I thought this month would kill me - as it always does. That transition from the joys of summer to the realities of fall is a crucible, of lessening light, and frosty mornings and the ennui of hibernation in the offing.

I struggle to find the creative moment. Once found, the moment is fleeting and the satisfaction limited. Somehow I have not satisfied the desire for growing plants, sitting on the beach, and watching the moon outdoors with cicada sounds and summer choirs of night noise.

The magic wains - the mystery and melancholy stares me down. I blink and look away. Now I scan the computer screen for get-aways to topical islands - in my dreams.

August -die she must...September winds blow chilly and cold...

It has been a summer of existential moments - Colorado to the Jersey Shore; surprise death announcements and the detectable epidemic of cancer among women over fifty; reclaimed my sport and then twisted my ankle just to remind me that youth WILL fade; and re-visitation of those old boy friends. "A love once young has now grown old."

There was some positive insights: the trend for retirees to become dedicated athletes (the Iron Man has less and less competition when your in your 70s or 80s and a greater chance to win; I have a 1% chance of dying from a heart attack or stroke according to my doctor. I asked him what were the prospects of outliving my money!.
And after all, there is only one direction but forward. So...

A Mexican curandera sings this song in the Mazatec language:

Woman who thunders am I, woman who sounds am I,
Spider woman am I, hummingbird woman am I...
Eagle woman am I, important eagle woman am I.
Whirling woman of the whirlwind am I, woman of a sacred enchanted place am I.
Woman of the shooting stars am I.