Wrote a poem list night from a bad dream, inspired by the tower card. It’s kind of a magical, dark fairytale about trauma responses, in our most vulnerable relationships.
They’ll say she’s crazy, For predicting the truth That they all, deep down inside Have the power to drop the other shoe
A whispers trace away Only unknowns save the day One can never tell What moment it was When she cast her own spell
It is madness Born of a caged child’s tears A feared tower built so high She throws herself from it Every few years
Each time it gets steeper The price ever taller The depth of this child’s fears The moat grows deeper
What is this curse of cunning she prays She was only a girl, had no choice but to stay
As one man betrayed Mother looked away As one man betrayed Time pierced her Spirit barricade
Now with every tick Of a clock no one sees The awaited bomb deafens Scoured by her company
Darkness lives within Only the broken can satisfy her brokenness Calling out, abandoned dogs, Knowing she will someday free them
She will hold and coddle their egos until they’ve had their fill Then they run scared, after her doubts crack their seals
“Why”, she silently moans, “Why can I not look away Why is it only this curse is my lot, I am a Magnet to the highway.”
Because memory is all you know, You cannot hold what does not hurt You cannot know the solid They feel that you yearn For deeper seas For sadder pain For the rush of fury For the pouring rain
Step down tonight Lay down this dream Carry me home, to the sky, dark Moon, To my Queen.
My teacher card, the TowerLanguage of Letting Go: Melody Beattie
I thought I knew what busy was before this semester. My time-space continuum has always been up in the sky and often missing some continuity… but dang. I want COVID to be over and for us to be able to come out into the open, around other humans, without the anxiety of “I might die” creeping in the back of our minds. Then I can only look at a screen if I want to, not because I have to and teach in a classroom where my students and I can laugh together.
The world has been in uproar about elections, the environment, racism, bigotry of all kinds, domestic terrorism by right-wing extremists ready to take down the country in their G.I. Joe gear militia nonsense, badass civil rights leaders passing (John Lewis, RBG to name a couple…), and COVID-19. Damn! Guess what!? We are resilient, a hard to kill lot. Ask Mother Earth. LOL *funny, not funny*. Surely, to Her we are worse than roaches, bedbugs and termites combined! Yet, I am of another mind also when it comes to this rollercoaster, rife with ridiculous radical retrogression rigamarole. Part of me believes, in the very moment, that we just ARE. Things just are. We exist and that’s that. This viewpoint is both liberating and beautiful, nihilist and fruitless. Liberating and beautiful because it allows for me to live in the moment and choose to see life as a gift. Nihilist and fruitless because that vision allows me to sink into a hole of despair. Today, I choose liberating and beautiful and quote some advice from Mr. Lipbone Redding. I can recite it to myself in moments of fear and anxiety, “I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.” It is certainly a privileged statement, when I think of families imprisoned in internment camps or nearly perishing in boats escaping war, yet, no matter who you are or what you are experiencing, your perspective is the only thing you have.
Your perspective is your only freedom. Your perspective can save your life and your perspective can kill you. Today, I choose to believe I AM exactly where I am supposed to be – anchoring myself to the moment, with all its imperfections, inherited, unearned privileges, and its beauty. I give thanks for the divine, the souls in this life I’ve encountered, and this life, filled with so many amazing opportunities, every moment, to do better and to choose love over fear or bitterness. Thank you. Thank You. Thank YOU.
I’ve suggested reading the 4 agreements to probably hundreds of people by now. It’s a book that seriously calls out the way our lives can go, however we choose. It’s a life-path to which it is definitely worth subscribing. “The Four Agreements” by Don Miguel Ruiz
On to the news and away from my habitual pontificating! Soon, now that school is almost over, I will be going back into my little homemade recording studio and laying down tracks for this album #SurrenderingToTheSacred ~ I’m also going to be releasing a single that invites you to see the world through the eyes of a graveyard. …a lovely, ghostly vision.
Join me on Tuesday evenings for my 8:30pm livestream on either Facebook or Instagram! I love you!
Your grateful friend,
Anita
This week in pictures!
The back of the album cover! (Names of songs and credits will be added!)A full moon and lunar eclipse ritual where I severed ties with my sugar addiction and learn a LOT more about my purpose in reflection. Spirit sees me at this moment as the Queen of Wands (mastering confidence, fiery femininity, calm in crisis, generous but fierce, vibrant and determined) coming into this venture. In order to get unstuck (which I have been) I need to incorporate the lessons of the 8 of Swords to tend my inner fire – be clever and think outside the box – approach the situation with openness and curiosity. The Spirit of Sagittarius season has gifted me with the medicine of the Queen of Swords and I can call upon the virtues of Athene and her owl, critical thinking and creativity – to open myself, channeling her higher wisdom. I need to be strict with myself, yet internally soft and warm, with care for my highest good. Now is a good time to study, write, channel and think. I can offer the world the embodiment of the Strength card – matriarchal consciousness – as opposed to the Emperor (this is the Emperor year and this is my Strength year!) I can share the lessons learned of tending to the sacred flame, keeping the hearth fires burning for the benefit of the city in honor and invocation of transformation toward a new, awakened awareness of the return of the Goddess, the divine Feminine so that we may heal the damage of our binary, patriarchy dominated history. I hope to teach how to make contact with the subconscious for those who wish to heal, through my music and art, teaching and dedication to justice – to embrace the power of the priestess within me. Advice from my future self.
Dedication: This week, this issue is dedicated to Mary Jane Marx. She was a dear friend of mine and yesterday was her birthday. She passed away this Winter and my weekly livestream was in her memory last night. I played mostly sweet lullaby-type songs. I miss her tremendously.
Quote: “He doesn’t say what we don’t already know, he just says it purtier.” – the quirky, loving inscription Mary Jane put inside of the first gift she ever gave to me. It was a hard-cover copy of The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. That book became my bible. I think of quotes from it all the time and use it when I perform marriages too. So much wisdom, eloquently stated.
Song: White Rabbit – Jefferson Airplane – Mary Jane travelled around the world with these guys for a while, so many stories about Amsterdam and Haight Ashbury….. back when singers were badass and didn’t need to sell their bodies and sex to sell records. Live on Grace Slick, you badass woman you. Live from Woodstock 1969https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vl89g2SwMh4
Dear Humans,
I’m addicted to double-stuffed, vanilla Oreos. They are against my diet in SO many ways. Filled with sugar and gluten, they are on my 20% time-slot. I’ve decided that since my body can’t have gluten, mammals or mammalian products such as cheese and butter and I’m not eating processed sugar on the reg, there must be some way to enjoy SOMETHING out there. The last year of diagnosing what the hell was going on with my digestive system was hell. Hives spells and ridiculous gas… I’ll spare you the rest. Now I know basically all the things to which I’m allergic and I can steer clear of those things purposefully while still feeding myself relatively well. Meals are certainly not the gourmet dream as I would like for them to be (being spoiled by good cooks has ruined me for life) but I make up for it by finding new and exciting ways to turn cooking and eating into art. Relishing in making my table pretty, filled with flowers, candles, matching vintage flatware and cloth napkins makes my dinner feel good, even if it doesn’t satisfy my craving for lamb chops and butter-laden stuffed acorn squash with a glass of delicious Carménère or Pinot Noir. Now when I have a craving for some cuisine du passé, I just grab a few vanilla Oreos and forget all my troubles… mostly.
On to less entertaining updates, teaching is going well at this point. Creating a brand new curriculum during a pandemic with a new text book turns out to be a smidge less hair-pulling suck-ery than I thought. I’m only pulling out my eyebrows and the occasional eyelash, no big deal.
Democracy Matters students are on a roll doing their online college organizing, with all its necessary innovations and admitted setbacks, yet overall, I am impressed with their (and my) resilience in this grassroots effort to end the tyranny of the rich tv personality and his racist hordes. It’s no secret I’m a radical and it’s no secret of my sentiments that Biden SUCKS. *pulling out actual hair on the top of my head* I must say, however, having a woman of color on the Vice-Presidential stage for the first time EVER, is a momentous occasion and worth celebrating whole-heartedly. I cannot say how much that means to me (and millions of others in this country). I think she was chosen because of her color and gender, irregardless of her political prowess. When I saw the lineup of vice-prez candidates, they mostly had two things in common: they were women and mostly people of color. Fine with me. Bring it on. We need an actual representative democracy. We need for people in office to look like us, think like us, and to care about us. The blatant hatred and vitriol being spat from Trump supporters is disgusting and ignorant. They aren’t going down without a nasty fight. Needless of say, I’m very much looking forward to tonight’s Vice-Presidential debate with Kamala Harris and Mike Pence. I can’t imagine being in her shoes right now. Having to downplay the stereotype of “angry black woman” and having to keep strong the “we’re tough on crime” bullshit – it makes me sick. She has it twice as hard (if not exponentially harder) than Hillary Clinton. I will be praying for her tonight and I hope she is as real as real gets on that stage. Fuck commentary and opinion editorials. She deserves a chance to speak for people who rarely see the light of day, much less the national debate stage. I’m not very patriotic, but if she’s all I’ve got to stand behind, I’ll do it. Fuck the policies and hateful Trump noise and the gruesome displays of outdated, accepted bigotry his supporters spew like someone realizing they’ve just gulped curdled milk from the fridge.
I believe we can have a place where we all get along. I try not to demonize the humans but the actions of mislead and misinformed people who don’t know any better… but man do these people make that difficult. Watch the debate tonight. I’ll be eating popcorn and expecting to cry. Wish I could call Mary Jane at the end of it and have an uplifting discussion about chicken marsala and how much she loves me no matter how much the world sucks at the time. Just damn.
Upcoming shows: Tuesday nights, 8:30 live on FB and Insta!
This week in pictures:
Camping… She loved my hat collection. I loved her panda collection. Pepita and Pink Purple PJ Pants
Dedication: This weeks newsletter is dedicated to Harry Phillips. I am honored to know him. He literally wrote the book on native wildflower propagation. https://uncpress.org/book/9780807841310/growing-and-propagating-wild-flowers/ He is an amazing human: kind, generous, thoughtful, an unparalleled listener and takes the cake for best garden in town, literally all of them. Harry and I have spent much time together of late when, after several months of dealing with pain, he went in for an operation and is now home in recovery. (Details are personal, of course.). I had the honor of spending time with Harry through the process and am the better for it. He is sacred to my community and a dedicated person of service and love. So grateful for you and glad you are now home and healing.
Quote: “Isle of View” – the note my dear, late friend Mary Jane would write on all the gifts she ever gave me. I love you too Mary Jane. The losses of you and Amy have been ever-present in my daily existence, just beneath the surface of keeping it together. My world is certainly not as bright without the two of you. Sending love out there to whatever farthest galaxy of isles you may be upon.
Song: Woman of Heart and Mind – Joni Mitchell – https://youtu.be/4rG8qxouRL4 “I am a woman of heart and mind, with time on her hands, no child to raise… you come to me like a little boy and I give you my scorn and my praise… you think I’m like your mother, or another lover, or your sister, or the queen of your dreams… or just another silly girl, when love makes a fool of me…”. Sometimes when I hear this song, I think of other people. Sometimes, I think of me. This whole album, the live versions of some of these songs… stunning and mezmerizing. Here’s a link to the entire album: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLF_4fzpgIptXrbCem3WkttAEexBVFQ_Lj When I hear Joni Mitchell’s music, I think of my own experience of being a woman.
Dear Humans, I write to you from my bed. The window is open and the cool, night air is flowing in through the window. Pepita the beautiful and soft, muted tortie kitty is laying on my left arm as I type. She is purring, or as my grandfather would say, “She’s got her motor runnin’.”
Tonight, I decided to forego the presidential debate, cause fuck that. I have absolutely no desire to watch those two go at it. I will, however, have a front row seat and a bowl of popcorn at the ready next Tuesday night at 9pm EST to watch Kamala Harris debate with Mike Pence. THAT is going to be an interesting evening because, seriously, when was the last time you heard Pence say a word? Mostly he’s just standing behind Donald, looking smug. I can’t bring myself to listen to either of them, Trump or Biden speak. When I vote, I will be voting for a cabinet of people who hopefully will hopefully bring some heart and compassion back into the White House, it will certainly not be for Biden himself – I really don’t like him and I feel cheated because Bernie would smash this dude. If I seem a bit negative, it’s because I’m pissed, more pissed than before, when Bernie’s chance was stolen by the STATUS QUO-maintaining republicrats (republic rats, lol, that was what spell-check wanted me to put there). In all honesty, I am ready to see the whole thing crash and burn. We need to vision, together, somehow, a place where we can, seriously answer dear Rodney’s plea and ALL GET ALONG. That’s all I have to say about that.
Tonight, I sang to my friends and decided to write this newsletter instead. Last week, I had to support my bestie who lost her dear feline. That’s a tragedy. I know that feeling; it’s the worst, especially if it’s sudden. I’m glad we were together and broke bread in memory of Juno, the cat who turned Maggie into a cat lady. 🙂
I’d been feeling burnt out. However, few weeks ago, I took a rejuvenating trip up to the mountains. We trotted around waterfalls and made bangin’ campfire dinners. This dude is an amazing human and I’m feeling a relaxed sort of love lately. It has put a sweet, calm and cozy sheen on everything that otherwise sucks (insane amounts of work and sitting at a computer, temporal differentiation struggles, and nature deprivation).
Music has taken a back seat. It kind of sucks. I miss it. I felt relief tonight, along with trepidation, when getting back into the swing of my Tuesday online music mini-concert. I like the candle-light, parlor feel of the studio and plan to make some music for the album in there weekly, now that I’ve penciled it into my schedule. Wish me luck.
Wish us all luck. These are Goddamn hard times. Let me tell you though, we are not only going through some tremendous dismantling, destructive, and disorienting times, but we are also making the way for a higher consciousness, immense learning and massive changes, unveiling of what was once hidden. How we handle these – with courage or with strife – will determine the future of our existence on this planet.
Today, I may seem down, but that’s not a constant – I choose LIFE. I choose joy. I choose you.
Love,
ALM
Upcoming Shows: Tuesdays on Instagram or Facebook, live at 8:30. OCt 7th will be a special 30 minute show so I can tune into the Vice Prez debates. Get’cherr popcorn maw, we are gonna have us a brawl.
TuesDayNewsDay Vol 2, Issue 12 ~ September 15, 2020
Dedication: today’s Tuesday Newsday is dedicated to Jonathan Byrd. Back in 2002, I worked for a man named Gary. Gary lost someone dear to him and I accompanied him to the funeral. I didn’t know who Jonathan Byrd was at that time, however upon hearing him sing at this funeral, I knew he was very special. I don’t actually remember who it was that it passed, but I remember hearing Jonathan sing. Maybe that’s messed up of me, maybe it’s just my normal human brain… more attuned to music.
Here and now, sitting up on the banks of the Haw River, many years later, I have the privilege and opportunity to share my music with Jonathan Byrd and his amazing audience tomorrow night. Only a few people know of my goals, because I don’t share them often, but one of my goals for this year was to sing for Jonathan Byrd‘s weekly residency, The Shake Sugaree Jonathan Byrd and the Pickup Cowboys show hosted by The Kraken, our local dive bar. I actually wrote it down on a piece of paper with my other goals… A few of months ago, I ran into Jonathan while waiting to perform for the John Prine tribute. Due to Covid, it’s kind of not cool to hug people, but later I expressed to him and several others that I wish I could’ve given out hugs. That was the first time I had been around a whole bunch of people for several weeks. Jonathan said that he wished he would’ve been able to hear me sing, and without a beat, I said, “well maybe I could sing for your show one day…” thinking way into the future, maybe on the ground, in real life, post Covid. After a few agonizing minutes of waiting for his response via Facebook messenger, he responded, “Can you do July 25?”. I was flabbergasted because I half expected him to say no. No, you don’t have an album and I really don’t want to host someone who can’t have something to showcase… No you can’t perform, for some other piddly reason my mind made up for me… But he said yes and I am so excited.
In my excitement, I reached out to my friend Spencer who is also one of the videographers for Jonathan‘s weekly show. I love Spencer and he also said yes to play those videos with me. What a treat!? Spencer is an amazing songwriter. His voice is captivating and his musical talents soar out of this world.
So tomorrow night, at 7 o’clock when the show begins, join me on Facebook as I will be starting a watch party for people to watch it with me. There will be two videos of my own songs in between the many amazing sets of Jonathan Byrd and the Pickup Cowboys’ music. I’m stoked and honored. One of the songs is a product of Jonathan’s song writing workshop. I recommend it to anyone who likes to write songs!
Quote: “Jump, and the lily pad will appear.” This quote was on a friend’s mom’s fridge and it’s etched into my memory. Perhaps that is what I did when I asked Jonathan to sing for his show…
Thank you so much for supporting me during this musical journey. I don’t have much to say this evening, I have been teaching and organizing and protesting for the last several months. We have much work to do in this world to make it a better place, I know I am doing my small part. I hope you enjoy the show tomorrow! Thank you Jonathan for having me, I look forward to enjoying your music and reminiscing about the past in hopes of a future that includes dancing at the Kraken.
Good morning all. I told myself that I would get back on track and “get my shit together” this week. That includes coming to my favorite sacred writing place to do this newsletter, early in the morning. It is a magical little spot in Saxapahaw and right now the cardinal flowers, bright red beauties, are blooming alongside the yellow cutleaf coneflowers (both native species and wonderful for bees) leaning in from the creek banks.
Today, TuesDay NewsDay is dedicated to all the teachers out there, my grandmother included. I had no idea how much work it is to be a teacher. I had no idea what it took to bring students to a place of understanding, as a guide, not a person who deposits information like a bank. It is an honor to find myself in this place, albeit, it is one of the most time-consuming, painstaking privileges I have ever been given. For damn sure, teachers are not paid what we are worth and if anything is a labor of love, that is what teachers (and admin) do every day. This week, we lost one of my favorite teachers in all of my many years of schooling. Her name was Sharon Rorbakken and I love her dearly. She taught the first class in which I enrolled at Appalachian State, “Gender, Race and Class” it was called. (See how I turned out…) She was a fiercely kind, passionate, and outrageously whip-smart person. Her life affected many of us growing up in a world uncertain of our direction. That is the teacher’s world. I am honored to have been a part of hers.
She loved her family. 💜
Quote: “Ignorance allied with power is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.” -James Baldwin Sharon and I had a few long conversations on the phone after she moved back home to be closer to her family and then was diagnosed with cancer. Her voice was memorable and I can hear us discussing politics and love interchangeably.
Dear Humans, It is a breezy shade in which I sit this morning. While it is later than I wanted, I couldn’t rise from bed this morning. Through COVID, I have had a very hard time waking up, even if I try to get to bed earlier, sleep seems always to be knocking. That is why I have decided to get up again and start walking every day. Perhaps I’m not moving enough or doing enough with my body and therefore can’t become tired. The semester in teaching began last week and this is the beginning of the second week of classes. Democracy Matters started the week before that. I have 20 schools from California to Alabama, and from Florida to North Carolina! I have four schools right now in NC. Central, UNC, NC State and Appalachian. Most of my campuses are online and we are changing our strategies to online organizing. Wish us luck!
Music has kept me company these last 6 months. It has been nice to do a weekly livestream on Tuesday nights. Tune in to either Instagram or Facebook at 8:30pm so I can sing (and read poetry) for you. Many folks have said how much they enjoy my music through these difficult times. I am honored to share it with everyone. Even more honored I am, to share it with those who need it.
The recording studio in my home is now ready for me to begin recording. I’m borrowing a nice microphone and purchased some equipment to make it work well (and easily) and to sound good too. Once my school and DM schedule are nailed down, I will be able to figure in recording time and get back to work on that record!Nothing can be set in stone anymore right now, so dates are all arbitrary. I hope to be moving into a tiny house next year around April also. I’m putting away a little bit of money a month for a down payment. Even named my savings account “Tiny House”. That tangibility really means something special.
My love to all of you, I hope everyone is finding time for self-care and at least one healthy thing for yourself a day. Mine is remembering to take my medicine and going for a morning walk. Let’s see if I can stick to that. 😉
A few weeks ago, I’d mentioned being a guest on Jonathan Byrd’s Shake Sugaree residency online from the Kraken. I had the date wrong, and I apologize if you went looking for it and couldn’t find it! I’ll either be on September 15 or 23rd – I will confirm that date asap.
Otherwise, I’ll see yall at 8:30 on Tuesday nights (that’s tonight) XOXO FB or Instagram.
