Thursday, April 28, 2011

Birthday Binkie Ballerina

Aw, Binx, look how cute you were
when you were a tiny baby...
looking like E.T.

Mom, if Rowan got a birthday story post I want one too!

Okay Binx. Here goes....

Binx was born a poor little porch rat
and then she turned into
a beeeeee-u-tifull princess!
Here's a picture of you on your 2nd birthday.

Rowan loved her right away, well, almost right away...right after he told her who was the boss.

Yeah right, nobody is the boss of Binx, except maybe you, Mom.

I wanted a black cat for a long time
and then I finally got one
and it was Binx.

That guy who lives here always tells that story about Christmas.
He says, "One Christmas my cat went crazy."
He's a jerk.
It's not my fault you guys were taking too many pictures
and holding me too long
and over stimulating me
and ever since then you can't put your face near mine
because I'll get it.

That's true.

When Binx was tiny, she used to say,
"I'm not tired!"
And keep us up at night.
And then she grew up,
and like most cats,
she got really tired.

And she really liked to be warm.
Remember that time I let you
lay under the heating pad?

Yeah, that was awesome.

It was a magickal time before I had to say things like,
"It lays down or It gets the hose."

Yeah, it was B.K.

B.K. What's that mean?

You know what it means.

OoooooH, I get it.
And Binx's life was really peaceful.......
dum dum DA.....

Yeah, it used to be peaceful around here B.K - Before Kittens!
And then kittens named Mooka and Wentz moved in.
And when they grew up, they chased me.
And then after that, there were more kittens.

And now Wentz
and those bratty "kittens" named Twix and Pop-Tart and Cleo
are always getting me.

That guy who lives here says it's my fault cause I slink around like a smooth criminal.
I can't help slinking around, I'm a black cat.
Plus slinky rhymes with Binky.
So there.
I still say he's a jerk.
That's why I bite his calves.

Yeah, that is kinda funny.

Anyways, back to the story.
I used to sing a song
that went like this:

"Binx is a Ha-la-wee-ner, Haa-laa-a-weener"
Until one day she did her first tiny dance.
That was how she turned into
a bee-u-tifull Ballerina.

Now I sing this song:
"Binx is a Ba-la-ree-ner, Ba-la-a-reener."
And one day soon,
I'll get around to taking a picture
and maybe even some video
of Binx dancing.

Mom, what else is there to tell about me?

Let's see...
Binx loves to get bugs.
Whenever I say, "There's a buggie,"
Binx comes running to save me.

She also loves to play with peanuts in the shell.
Binx's offical name is Binx Bianca Bedazzle,
but I mostly call her things like
Doodle Bug and Binkle Dinkle.

When me and that guy who lives here
talk about "It", we call "It" "It",
which It doesn't seem to mind.

One time I saved Its life when It was little.
It got Its neck caught between the leg of the chair
and the leg of the table.
It also got a gift bag caught around Its neck
and ran all around the house like a maniac
while we chased It trying to get the bag off.
Although we found it rather amusing,
I don't think It found it funny at all.

Not in the slightest. That was horrible.
But if it happened to the kittens I'd laugh my tail off.

As a matter of fact,
You've actually had some traumatic events
happen to you.

Yeah I did,
what about when I was a baby and that guy who lives here locked me in the refrigerator? Good thing you guys were watching TV and heard me crying and started looking around for me and finally found me freezing my whiskers off in the fridge.
Or how about the TWO TIMES he locked me out of the apartment in the hallway?
And how about now when he locks me in the closet?

No wonder you bite him.

Yeah. Jerk.

Let's see, what else...
Binx loves Rowan!
And Rowan loves Binx!
They're best friends.
Mooka and Binx get along mostly.
But when she's mad,
she actually looks for Mooka to take it out on.
In reality, Binx is all talk.

Except when she gets cat-nip muscles.
Then everybody look out!
If cat-nip was beer in a can,
Binx would be a "Toucan Sam."
She's a lightweight and gets nipped real easy.
One whiff and she's flagged.

And being the Princess that she is,
she "rings a bell" when she wants service.
Which basically translates into,
she bangs the closet door
to let us know she wants to eat.
We hear it and say,
"Binx is ringing her bell."

She's also kinda destructive.
She loves to tear papers up.
And she's terrified of the vacuum,
anything metal clanking together,
and sometimes rainstorms.

Did I leave anything out?

"and even though she's sometimes a pest,

we still love her and would never trade her for any other cat in the whole entire universe"

That's true!
Happy 7th Birthday Biny our "Tiny Dancer"

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The bliss of washing a dish

This is a moment in time
captured by
and held in
our sometimes friend, Technology.
It is only part of the story.

Here is the rest.
the mystical sounding music playing,
the fresh breeze of an approaching storm,
the sun shining,
the curtains dancing,
the green of spring life,
the bird's twittering without having to use a computer.
and I, in the midst of it all,

That's when I re-realized......
i can never explain to you the wind upon my flesh
- how wonderful it feels
- the place it brings me to

It Is thee bliss
which Is All My Own.
and That Is Precious'ness at Its finest.
It Is thee rarest of thee rare.

This life is my personal nirvana,
where the wind whistling,
it's blowing so hard,
is a cupcake for the soul.

Yet it feels so warm and inviting.
No longer the bite of winter in its teeth.
What is it inviting me to?
Why Thee Party that Is my journey of course.

I feel I could absolutely DIE from the elation of It All.
So I hang onto every tiny morsel being fed me,
while leaves of the past rustle by.
They have not the strength to remain.
I stand in it.

And again understand how awe-filled it is that
no matter how hard i try,
i can never,
explain to you how serene this now is to me.

No rat race,
just texture and lace.
No working scheme,
a living dream.

And honestly,
i don't have to wreck myself trying to explain it.
Because truly,
it belongs to only me.

It's mine.
It's for me.
No one else can increase or decrease Its value
- only i can do that.

No person,
no magazine,
no tv show,
validates Me!
Or invalidates Me for that matter.
I matter because I matter to me.

I made a dvd of my videos.
It was so much fun
and I loved it so much,
it made me squeal.

Does it matter that only a few people will ever see it?
How come?
Because I saw it.
I already received the pleasure.
I don't require any more than that.
I used to.
I was very unhappy then.

So now, I remind me of this often:

Do not let the out~side validate, dictate, or choose the in~side.
Always remember....
it's the other way around!

Make art because it makes you.


Tuesday, April 12, 2011

In Thee House of Thee Ancestors

In Thee House of Thee Ancestors,
She stepped ever so lightly,

for She knew not to disturb the dust which had settled upon the past,
for ghosts are easily awakened,
even in the light of day.

Standing under the candles,
She spoke the spell

Gathered walls,
hold my name
sacred on your lips.

Let us discover
the divine in our make-up.

Let us travel together,
us in each other.

Let us establish substance in our hearts.

Let us give birth to a journey gifted with the highest good.

Let us bear fruit so sweet
that solace itself will desire only us

And let us know that faith and focus can create any story we want.

So grow clear topmost thought,
so that deeds can see what was done,

& reason can draw up experience
& then laugh at the eager mind polishing Its pictures,

while a Great,
many times over,
Grandmother Moon
hangs dustily upon the wall
awaiting your never arrived touch.


ps: my musical muse today "Undun" by (the) Guess Who (that's who)

Friday, April 8, 2011

Thee Heights, and subsequent Heist, of Bliss

On Thee Beach of Bliss's Fullness,
She looked to Thee Above
and Knew...
just knew.

Castle on Her shoulder,
Her lips pursed in anticipation,
forever frozen in Thee Waiting,
in Thee Sweetness that IS Waiting.

What is it that You imagine She's about to say?

Hello, to You, who read my words,
who see my sights.
You help make my life important,
and worthy,
but even without You,
I'd still be here.

in Thee Bliss of Stripey Goodness.

Here in this Dawning of Delight,
where i bathe in waffles and laughter,
thinking it will last as long as I let it.

& in this Spring of Ecstasy,
i am pleased more and more by Thee Simplest of Bird Songs,
& Thee Lifting of Limbs.

How can that be after all the acanthus I encountered behind the scenes?
I don't know.
I really don't know.
But I Smile at it.
I MaRVeL at It.

I am more joy~full,
more at ease in me than ever,
ever before.
& I ADoRE It.

& although I vowed,
only a few days ago,
return back there
no matter the cost.
I find myself slipping backward for no apparent reason,
other than,
my usual pat answer,
"That's how it goes."
This is where the Heist comes in.

But I'm still Here,
with papered butterflies
frozen into forever
on papered dresses.

& inside this box,
the depths of my bliss~filled being curl up
& dream their everlasting dreams.

For I've decided for all time,
even if i never accomplish anything that Society deems "important",
I am happy here with my waffle moments.
cause waffle moments are GooD.
& GooD is all there really is.

You know,
I think...
she longs to passionately exclaim this,
"Pursue the complete happiness of the day...
& WHeN you catch it,
claim it...
because you deserve it!"

What do you think about that?

~Make magick & Forget tragick~

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