anitalorrainemoore

Musician devoted to Justice, Creativity, and Courage


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TuesDayNewsDay Vol.2 Issue 17, October 30 Caution: Trigger Warning, references to sexual violence

TuesDayNewsDay Vol.2 Issue 17, October 30th – CAUTION: Trigger Warning – this newsletter contains triggering sexual violence references. Please take care.

Dedication: Today’s issue is dedicated to my therapist Karen. Today, while going through what came up in therapy, I realized I would drive to the place, where in October of 1990, I was first molested. I was seven years old. I decided I would drive there, sit on the ground and take a photo. I would also take something of the earth to work with this healing. As the idea came to me, a light bulb exploded in my head. Karen said, “Anita, don’t take your wounded little girl there without your whole adult self holding her, seeing her, and telling her that you are there for her no matter what. You are her nurturing parent now, hold her in your arms.”

I pulled my car into the driveway for the first time ever on my way home from therapy, realizing I have never driven into that driveway before in my life.

This spot, which I have to drive by every time I go to my grandparents’ house, is also a block from where my mother still lives with the pedophile step-father just across the railroad tracks. When I say this healing is a daily, a moment to moment process, I mean it. Literally facing those places every day has wrecked havoc on my insides – but I am resilient and strong, vulnerable and honest with myself. The place is a vacant lot in a trailer park on Pomeroy Street in Graham, where my home used to sit. Now it’s an empty, dirty space with an overgrown concrete platform over which there was a carport. Under that porch, I remember having to take all of our stuffed animals outside to be thrown away because there was such a terrible flea infestation. I remember sneaking up late at night after everyone was asleep, turning on the television to watch Alfred Hitchcock and the Twilight Zone, my face about an inch from the screen, ever wary of any sounds coming from my mother’s end of the trailer lest I get caught.

Vividly, I remember the game we were playing that night in October. My baby sister, a developmentally disabled boy named Jason, and his sister Tasha and I were playing charades. Jason and Tasha were the teenage children of my mother’s red-headed boyfriend. We played in teams and it was decided we would go into the closet to decide what animal or character we would pretend to be. I was seven years old, my sister was 2. I was on Jason’s team. Jason was sixteen. (Typing this I can feel my heart racing and the old familiar anxiety aching in my chest and shoulders, my left eye and cheek twitching.). When we went into that closet and Jason molested me, I was too afraid to move, too afraid to scream, too afraid to fight, too afraid to do anything at all except to freeze. So, I froze. I could feel his icy cold, trembling hands on me. To this day I can still feel the darkness of that closet, the walls closing in around me. When we came out of that closet, I was sick. I don’t remember anything else. I don’t remember the game, nothing. I remember after they left that night, I told my mother what happened. She said to me, “Honey, if it happens again, let me know.”

Those words etched endless caves into the crevices of my heart. Those words are the haunting. Those words represent the moment I knew I was on my own. With no one else to turn to, my grandparents were gone to Disneyland at the time, I was completely alone. I prayed and prayed and heard nothing. Those words mark the day when I, as a seven year old, realized that god didn’t exist and that I wasn’t worth saving. Those words created children’s tears. They cannot be undone, and of course, it happened again.

Despite those memories buried deep in endless caves and my mother within shouting distance, I went. It was my nurturing, accepting, loving, and whole adult self who sat on that ground. I felt the cold, wet grass and soil underneath me. I looked at the trailers to the right and left of me. My phone was propped on the very metal bracket that once held that trailer to the ground. I snapped a shot of me sitting on that sacred ground. It took less than a minute. Leaving, I searched for a four-leaf clover in the tiny patch of yard, but found none. Instead, now a big green black walnut from that place is with me. I plan to do some ritual with that walnut. It tried to escape twice from me before walking up my back-porch steps in Saxapahaw. Something inside told me not to bring it inside my house, so I left it on the back patio table. It is not clear what kind of ritual will come about, but it is sure to be a powerful one of releasing the physical ghosts of that moment. It will be one of forgiving my mother for not knowing or realizing what she was doing. It will be a process of exorcising the grief and trauma which has been sitting in my bones and blood, blooming into the person you see today. Today is all I have.

Quote: Choice is all we get, change is all that’s real.

Song: Silence is the song today folks, listen to your heart beat. – my Tuesday video song series is available here: TuesDay Song Series Video on Facebook

Dear Humans,

Today’s post wasn’t meant to be this way. The events of today were not planned, but have made a mark. The words of my song, Darlene, record this event in a lyrical, symbolic sort of way. Being an artist is a privilege because it lets us put words and visions to feelings and thoughts. We are able to somehow transform our feelings into a universal language others can share. Today with Karen, I admitted to trying to let go of my fears: people won’t like my arts and I’m not good enough to walk in the footsteps of my idols. Slowly and purposefully, she said, “Let’s transform that. You are working on your language, so let’s start here.” So after thinking, my mouth said, “I am letting go of my concern for people not liking my art or me as a person.” I do not need validation of others to justify my existence. This self-work is Sacred. I feed on it; it makes me feel more and more alive and free every day to uncover and unleash the demons. Turns out, they aren’t demons at all. They are one scared, frozen little girl, stepping into who she is destined to be, not solely a victim of her circumstance. I looked Karen in the eyes today and spoke my gratitude for her being here with me this last year and a half of journeying, visioning and healing. It was the first time I’d ever asked to hold hands with anyone. With our feet on the floor, we grounded, I closed my eyes and saw little Anita sitting on my right knee. There Karen prepared me to go sit on that patch of grass, which someday, I will drive by without flinching. I will drive by proud to have been seated there.

Love, ALM


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TuesDayNewsDay Vol.2 Issue 15, October 8

Today’s weekly song series is up! Check it out here: https://www.facebook.com/anitalorrainemusic/videos/535090620390659/

Dedication: This week is dedicated to Sandie Kennedy. She introduced me to Tarot when I was sixteen or seventeen and I could not be more grateful. For years I was ashamed of my mystical frou frou leanings. Growing up in a Southern Baptist church by non-woo humans certainly never leant itself to any out of the ordinary behavior (of which I was constantly involved) or witchy shit of any kind. Sandie was the first adult I ever met who was all up in the woo and made no bones about it. No apologies ever about who she was or in what she believed. I truly needed a woman like that in my life without a dogma, without an agenda. On top of that she loved motorcycles and had some amazing children all of whom I love to this day. Of course her own children may say of her what they want; I contend that she was one of the first women in my life who I looked up to for being unapologetically who she is. Go Sandie. Thank you for being. Period.

Quote: On Friendship: “…when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.” Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet speaking on the sacred topic of friendship. Today, I was reminded of how grateful I am to be able to count on my fingers and toes all the humans I love dearly, yet do not see very often. To those friends time cannot touch. Those friends with whom no distance can divide the love. There are many of you, for I have lived a privileged life of travel and adventure. You are all treasured and measureless in your meaning to me in this world.

Song: Lizzo: Soulmate – for those of us out here in the singles world, there are days when solitude can be overwhelming. Lizzo makes that fizzle away into the fire that is her music. The emblazoned words, “and I gotta testify, I get flowers every Sunday, I’mma marry me one day… cause I’m my own soulmate, I know how to love me, I know that I’m always gonna hold me down… look up in the mirror like ‘damn she the one!’” FYI, don’t listen to this around kids unless your kids cuss as much as I do… Lizzo does not give a f***. https://youtu.be/cORNQkOdYw0 I am learning to be my own soulmate, for I cannot give of myself if I am not whole. We gotta do our own work. Do the work! Soul work! (I swear, I will say this to everyone, EVERYONE needs therapy. Everyone needs someone with whom to talk about your inner junk. We ALL have it and this culture does not teach us how to recognize our issues, much less DEAL with them in healthy ways.) Thanks Lizzo for being a bit of extravagant therapy on the way to work every other day. Thank you Emily Miller for hooking me UP.

Dear Humans, I have another quote to share with you. It’s a quote that rushed right out of my mouth when I was speaking with a dear friend in Florida this week. “To be a rebel is to ask for help.” (In America.). We were discussing how hard it is to ask for help and I added that it is sometimes hard even to know what you need, much less be able to ask for help with whatever it is! We all struggle with inner demons, whether we recognize them or pay attention closely enough with a mirror to examine from where they originate is a “whole ‘nuther story!”

There’s so much going on right now that I feel I’m on a roller coaster that hasn’t stopped. Thing is, it’s slowing down, I can feel it. I have antidotes, potions, remedies, medicine and restorative practices to slow down my heart rate and see things from a more objective perspective. There is a list of creative endeavors which give me great peace and excitement upcoming: Poetry Book, Moore On That podcast, and Surrendering to the Sacred album!

Without any upcoming shows, I don’t have a boatload of rehearsals or practice. I have been playing and singing, but only to myself (and to you people on Tuesdays!). It’s been quite nice! I have gone to a few shows, had some lovely dinners with friends, begun reading new books, worked on sewing projects, sold my bed and mattress, working on selling my vintage dresser and nightstand set, brought down my fall accoutrements and sweaters are EVERYWHERE. My newest books are called “Well-Read Black Girl” by Glory Edim, “Deeper Dating” by Ken Page, and the “Autobiography of my Mother” by Jamaica Kincaid. Tea at night and going to bed early are becoming habitual. I’m learning how to pray, how to incorporate it into my habits… this morning was filled with ritual and intention for the rest of the month of October. I’m struggling with addictions and habitual behaviors which are dictated by shame and guilt cycles. It is perplexing to try to find solutions to those cycles, but surely they exist. Bless all of you who read this and care, it means a great deal to me. I’m stepping down to rest a bit and to more carefully juggle my wild side with my disciplined self. This Summer was filled with work beyond my wildest dreams, madness which has helped me step closer to fulfilling goals of creating an album and living my life authentically and radical honesty and assertiveness. Cheers! Here’s to the Autumn of abundance and harvest. Let’s celebrate. (Minus the booze, thanks.)

This week in photos:

Enjoying sleeves, wool hats, vests, scarves, and my Paw Paw’s 83 Mazda pickup transporting beds across town. Damn I’m sleeping like a rock on my own mattress. *Thankful*
This was my spread this morning. 1. Where to dig deeper (3 of cups) 2. Where to rest (9 of pentacles) and 3. What will transform with this balance? (The Hierophant)
Still unpacking this set. It’s for focusing on the month of October.
This cute greenie was outside the Eddy last Friday night.
Although I don’t consider myself an alcoholic, this book on shame was so intense that I had to put it down. I haven’t yet picked it up again.
Some of my most top played songs of late.


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“Darlene” – final song release tonight ♥️

“Darlene” (link to FB video here)~ last (15th) song on my upcoming album: #SurrenderingToTheSacred ~ This one is the most difficult to sing, but necessary for my growth and for this album to be complete. I thank my grandparents for being my safety when there was none elsewhere. I thank my sister for her brave soul. I thank the Sacred Spirit within me for shining when nothing else was lit.

Please consider donating to my album, 5% of all donations go to RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) is the nation’s largest anti-sexual violence organization. RAINN created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline (800.656.HOPE) in partnership with more than 1,000 local sexual assault service providers across the country.)

To donate, visit:

gofundme.com/anitalorrainemooresacredalbumrecording

#WeeklySongSeries

Thank you ALL for your support of this music, it means the world to me.

$40 = 1 hour in the studio! $5 = gas back and forth to the studio! It all helps!

Drink water, be peaceful, be grateful.

Lucky timing today. 11:11

My amazing grandparents at lunch yesterday. I am so thankful for them, in so many countless and deep ways.

Me as a small-sized.

Learning to fly.

Embracing my inner/outer goddess. Artwork by world-renowned body painters, Scott Fray and Madelyn Greco. ♥️


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July 1st… Journal today and Khalil Gibran

Monday… July 1st

Today, right now, I feel peaceful. I am sitting on the couch with my coffee, grey cashmere sweater score from the thrift store, tons of reading material and my ankle propped up on ice. This whole process of surgery and healing has taught me so much I never really understood – how important the pause really is. The caring for your body in a way that reflects that you ACTUALLY care about what happens to it and how it functions. It’s unbelievable to me that I went so long without really taking care of this ankle, or thinking about this at all… the life of childhood sexual abuse survivors perhaps – but I’ll only speak of my own experience. I think back and see so many unspoken, unseen barriers to recognizing the problem. I never want to be that distracted and oblivious again in my life. Therapy, Al-Anon, music, and most of all that Divine resilience spark from somewhere within me (and us all, right?) has put me in this place of submission. I know I’ll be taken care of. What a privileged feeling?

Right now, my mind goes to the families on the border of our country, the refugees trying to find a safe place, a home, the war-torn families of people across this world who truly DON’T know that they’ll be taken care of. Sitting here, I truly don’t know what to do about that. Is there something to be done? Is there nothing to be done? I can’t take on the weight of the world alone. How is it that my conscience (I’m teaching about conscience and morality in my Critical Thinking class this week.) is so heavy from the knowledge of what is happening around me but also the feeling of being incapable of doing anything about it. Is that not the essence of trauma? Am I wrong that everything will be taken care of? Is this a false sense of security in some unseen force? When I have been abused in the past, I didn’t know what to do so I froze and allowed it to happen until is was over and I could escape. Some don’t escape. My escape was in my mind, as my body was being invaded. What of right now? Is my escape the comfort of my mind since there is this seemingly limited amount of impact I can make on the atrocities of this world? (I made 74.50 Friday night performing to send to the Border relief organizations sending lawyers and food/water/proper care to those families.). It seems like so little… I curiously don’t feel shame. That I am proud of, however there is guilt – the healthy spark to do something to rectify wrong-doings comes from guilt. I didn’t create the system in which we live, yet as I live and breath, I benefit and continue to perpetuate its eventuality.

Are we all going through trauma right now, on a cellular and spiritual level right now, if not physical (since it’s all connected)? The world feels to me to be chaotic and mean, and while I sit here with my coffee, it’s hard not to think of all those who are unsafe and literally grasping for their lives.

From therapy, I learned that many truths can be simultaneously existent – the ever-present paradox – the both/and – not simply the limiting either/or. Literally, I believe this is the only mindset which can release me from my own rambling, concerned yet paralyzed state. Also, it’s the only perspective which can shed light on numerous co-existing perspectives of abundance which are hard to see while thinking about the suffering of this world. I never just think about the suffering, I FEEL it. Everyone can. It is impossible not to (even if you are unconscious of it, it impacts you. “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” (Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)) – it is all recognizable and at times, insidiously invisible. So why is it that the joys and the love and the light is so hard to absorb and hold? Again, that shift in lens is the antidote for the tunnel vision. A trusting that somehow, those positivities are truly out there in and amongst the negativities. …and if you venture out to the furthest reaches, perhaps those challenges (in hindsight) give us the tools we need to survive.

In an attempt at gross summation and perhaps even over-simplification – maybe we can cradle in our palms these painful knowings and trust that they are providing insights about how to better live, how much more aware I can be to not only see and recognize, but to act upon those recognitions to create a more just world in one fluid, unnoticeable and perpetual movement with the intention of good?

“On Good and Evil” – Kahlil Gibran (I find deep feeling insights every time I open The Prophet.)

“And one of the elders of the city said, Speak to us of Good and Evil. And he answered:

Of the good in you I can speak, but not of the evil.

For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst?

Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts it drinks even of dead waters.

You are good when you are one with yourself.

Yet when you are not one with yourself, you are not evil.

For a divided house is not a den of thieves; it is only a divided house.

And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles yet sing not to the bottom.

You are good when you strive to give of yourself.

Yet you are not evil when you seek to gain for yourself.

For when you strive to gain you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast.

Surely the fruit cannot say to the root, “Be like me, ripe and full and ever giving of your abundance.”

For to the fruit giving is a need, as receiving is a need to the root.

You are good when you are fully awake in your speech,

Yet you are not evil when you sleep while your tongue staggers without purpose.

And even in the stumbling speech may strengthen a weak tongue.

You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.

Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.

Even those who limp go not backward.

But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness.

You are good in countless ways, and yo are not evil when you are not good,

You are only loitering and sluggard.

Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles.

In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you. [I am brought to tears at this moment reading this line again.]

But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest.

And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore.

But let not him who longs much say to him who longs little, “Wherefore are you slow and halting?”

For the truly good ask not the naked, “Where is your garment.” Nor the house less, “Where has befallen your house?”

Another memory I heard singing in my ears while typing this, “I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch, he said to me, “You must not ask for so much.” I saw a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door, she cried to me, “Hey, why not ask for more? Like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir …I have tried, in my way, to be free.”

– Bird on a Wire, by Leonard Cohen.

Nothing is left unresolved, only momentary feigns of understanding…


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TuesDayNewsDay (‘cept it’s Wednesday!) Vol 2. Issue 9, May 29, 2019

Daaaaaaaaaaaaang it’s been awhile!

Quote: Turns out… I’m not set up for traditional meditation, even the STARS say so. After YEARS of learning about it, researching it, and feeling bad I wouldn’t make time for it, stick to it, and thinking I was failing hard, in therapy this week, we explored why. Turns out… childhood sexual abuse survivors have an especially hard time doing traditional meditation. Oh good, I’m off the hook for quieting the mind… At first I was pissed but another lesson this week: acceptance and celebration of who and where I am in life right now is called for! I can take baby steps toward other types of focusing activities – WALKING once this ankle heals, drawing, song-writing, poetry, arts of all kinds. Good thing I like doing all those things. 🙂 Even the stars are validating of late.
“Thank you Universe, more please.” – http://www.ChristineClifton.com

Song: Eddie Vedder (aka *melt* incarnate) – Better Days https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUYzQ_6xhU4 Lyrics included because they’re perfect.

Dedication: This week is dedicated to all the people in my life who have helped me after this surgery. It was a blow for which I did not plan adequately. Had no idea how painful, tiring and aggravating getting around without the use of one of my feet. Dang. So to you my grandparents, Christine, Bruce, Maggie May… Crystal, Els, Deborah, Michelle for all that food, and all you out there who’ve been so helpful and rad, I send you my greatest thanks and humble gratitude. Asking for what you need is hard af. Allowing yourself to be taken care of.. that’s hard. Learning this lesson is an ongoing process and I’m grateful for that too.

Dear Humans,
Weeeeeellllllll the past several weeks have been nutso! As per my dedication for this year, ankle surgery happened two weeks ago, tomorrow. The summer semester of Critical Thinking has begun and I’m teaching online only. A blessing in disguise since I’m laid up and can’t bear weight on my ankle for several weeks. Last week, singing at the Kraken was a huge honor and has sparked some lovely ideas about how the lead-up to the album release. My Democracy Matters organizing is over for the school year as of the 15th of May. We start back in the Fall when the students return. Saxy Tarot is now up and running! I’ve been reading Tarot for a long time privately, however I’ve been called to make a business out of it to help fund my music career! Feels totally in alignment with this new self-acceptance and my obsession with the occult (astrology, Tarot, Numerology, candles, witchery in general…) I hope that it takes off! Readings will also now be available online. Schedule yours now to support the upcoming album! https://www.schedulicity.com/scheduling/STRFQ6

#LivingQueryoftheWeek – How is your work or career in alignment with your innermost values and desires? I’m beginning to feel the connection by incorporating things I would have been shameful about growing up. Southern Baptists frown upon such things… Thank goodness that’s not the church I go to. Ha.Ha.Ha….

Y’all have a lovely week. I’ll be in bed doing bed yoga so my ass doesn’t stay numb for 23 hours straight… Looking forward to singing and playing out again soon!

Upcoming Shows:

May 28 – 9pm Weekly online song debut series

June 4 – 9pm Weekly online song debut series

June 15 – 7-10 One-Hit Wonders All-Star Show @ The Kraken

June 18 – 9pm Weekly online song debut series

June 25 – 9pm Weekly online song debut series

June 28 – 7-9pm Show at the Eddy Pub w/Bruce Horvath 

June 29 – 8-10 Show at Hyperion Bar/Lounge, Mebane, NC w/Bruce Horvath 

Last few weeks in pictures:

Moooooooon and Twilight
Lessons.
Kitty company and coffee reading in the morning.
A DAMN FINE quote.
Live videos….
Joyridin….
The bed-art-medicine cave
Post-op


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AnitaLorraine’s TuesDayNewsDay, Vol. 1, Issue 1 ~ October 2, 2018

TuesDayNewsDay

AnitaLorraineMoore

“Learn to handle the valleys Quincy, the hills will take care of themselves.” -Count Basie to Quincy Jones

Dear Humans,

Here comes the new Anita Moore newsletter every Tuesday describing what’s going on with me musically, emotionally/intellectually, creatively, and about life in general and things that move, touch or inspire me. We’ll start with a #freshquote and dedication – the #LivingQueryoftheWeek (respond in the comment section) and #UpcomingShows !!

Dedication: Auspiciously, my late brother Skip used to start a new journal on October 1 every year. This issue is dedicated to him. I miss him so much.

Over the last few weeks, there’ve been a lot of life events that have given me great pause. My 96 year old great aunt Helen passed and I sang a few songs for her funeral, I dealt with a staph infection, and my grandfather had pretty serious surgery to unblock his carotid artery (with him being in the hospital it inevitably means that my grandmother’s going to be on edge as well – they are attached at the hip quite literally. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.) Lastly, the Supreme Court fiasco has triggered many feelings of anger, helplessness, and memories of not being believed, invalidation, and being ridiculed by my mother starting at the age of 7. Call your Senators people. Vote them out if they don’t act upon your testimonies. We cannot allow the perpetuation of this behavior with silence.

I’m working part time with Democracy Matters and have 10 wonderful chapters of students who are doing amazing awareness raising work from Florida to New York. Syracuse University, Gettysburg, University of Maryland, North Carolina Central University, a new chapter at UNC, Guilford college, the University of Miami, the University of Georgia in Athens, University of Florida in Gainesville, and the New College of Florida.

Music has given me quite a bit of inspiration. I am so honored and grateful to have been able to open that door when I did. Many, many other doors have opened subsequently from that divine choice.  This past weekend, I got to perform three shows w/Pete Pawsey. Sunday at the Carrboro music festival, I was a complete rockstar and dressed the part too! With the Radar Clowns – On that day an amazing five piece horn section, smooth piano, energetic drums, and rockin’ Pete on the guitar, I sang my heart out on several songs and we had so much wonderful reception. I felt very tuned in at that moment and realized how happy I am to have started this journey when I did. Thank you all for supporting me. I could not do it without you.

In my personal, therapeutic journey, I have learned a lot about myself and about my motivations for work, life decisions, and habitual responses that honestly I would like to alter for the betterment of my sanity and for the world in general around me. I found that I was doing political service work in such a way that I was avoiding my own process of healing and/or avoiding my own historical traumatic struggle. I was unknowingly convinced that the world was easier to fix than my pain. Well… I am not doing that anymore. I have begun to prioritize my own mental health and establishing boundaries. Going to an Al-Anon meeting weekly, I just began working with my first sponsor. I’ve been doing cognitive behavioral therapy weekly, implementing EMDR sessions throughout. There is a book I’ve decided to write, for which I have begun gathering sources. The album concept is complete and I have all but two songs completely recorded in a demo. Right now I am compiling a list of accompaniment and considering different production styles and offers. I have applied for a potential teaching position at Alamance Community College – critical thinking. *fingers crossed* PS: I love lists.

My struggles have been with food lately and maintaining some semblance of exercise. I’ve been paying more attention to patterns, realizing that hormonally there are some disturbances at certain times of the month when I become desperate, hopeless, depressed, irritated and lethargic. To start, going on morning walks has been really helpful. Waking up early to watch the sunrise is a blessing; I had forgotten how beautiful the sunrise is. This morning it was an amalgamation of all sorts of pinks, purples, and yellows and blue-grey clouds. The moon has also been especially haunting in a good way lately, happy October! *groovy happy dance*  

At this very moment I am sitting on what Bruce calls “the magic rock”, where the creek bends and the water forms soothing sounds. Birds are chirping all around and the crickets are playing their endless tiny violin songs.

With Love, because it saves the world,

ALM

#LivingQueryoftheWeek : What is your most effective tool for self-love/self-care?

 

 

Upcoming Shows:

  • Sat, October 20th – w/Radar Clowns, Rain Dogs by Tom Waits Theme
  • Fri, November 2nd – w/Radar Clowns – Day of the Dead Show
    • 8:00pm, Hillsborough @ #MysteryBrewingCompany
  • Sat, November 3rd – Me-n-Pete Duo
    • 7:15pm, Star, NC @ #StarworksCafeTaproom
  • Sun, November 4th – w/Radar Clowns, Rain Dogs by Tom Waits Theme
    • 3:00-5:00pm, Pittsboro @ #CITYTAPPITTSBORO
  • Fri, November 30th – Anita Lorraine with Bruce Horvath

 


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Fundraiser Starts Today!! Help me to make my first album!! 🎶💜💓💜🙏💜💓💜🎶

www.gofundme.com/anitalorrainemusic

Poem about the process and #SurrenderingtotheSacred continued from the last episode to catch yall up:

The Mystery Still

They used to call that old white lightning “moonshine” in these hills

How many lips of other those words or family ties it breaks and kills

Strawberry apple pie or dark cherry kinds

But I found a new flavor my fingers and heart longed to find

Paid heed to the unanswered questions I spent too much time tryin to answer

Somewhere down the line I met a spirit and she bade me to release her

She gave me the keys to an old wooden shed

Her hair was long and dark, she was only 3 and her granddad’s hair was red

She came from the deep, A dark despair trail of loneliness

She rows up from the ashes and held me through the hunger and distress

In that shed, she showed me the silver, the copper and the gold

She showed me the jewels inside me, once I thought I couldn’t hold

She said the way it worked was this,

“you fill it up here and it makes a little hiss,

What you put in it is who you’ve been

What comes out that mystery still is your destiny, my friend”

The mystery still, a belly full of unknown

Stands in that shed just waiting to be blown

Open side, all the ingredients are there

You

“You just gotta believe” she said, “in yourself, if you dare”

I’ll show you the way cause you couldn’t even see

No matter how hard you tried, that spirit… What will be will be

“and that’s the magic” she said to me

Of sacred mysteries that come from pain and grief

Do you know her name, down this path you must go

Of surrender and sorrow of joy you can know

This still don’t make moonshine, but the Moonglows here still

Upon deep waters, wet and a tear stained two dollar bill

The birds are all calling and cannot be boxed in

Your dreams are free and aloof just like the wind

Ask for them to come and to you they will find

Their way through the core, the ground, from the mines

The caves you dug a long time ago

We’re dug by the same shovel that now makes you grow

This girl she smiled, as I sat down in awe

Bowed my head in silence, in reverence; I had no flaws

Suddenly I was sacred when I drink from that still

I’d learn the hard way, then she screamed, her voice hard and shrill

“your mantle, your fireside, your magic, I live inside.

You must off and stoke the fire and feed me” she cried

You never are done, don’t think you’ve made it

Each day, remember to keep the right flame lit

Don’t let it go out, else you’ll have to start over

And axe to this still, and your spirit sinks lower

Out of reach, out of time, out of luck, out of rhymes

Just put back on your skates and roll outside all the lines

You’re still is your own,

Every seed you have soon

Weights and yearns for your return

Build another fire to burn

If you still don’t know what this still is about

Think of a soul, longing to get out

As in distill, intoxicate your beautiful self

With the mystery of what is, take it down off the shelf

You open a portal and let spirit in

You release your control over who it is you’ve been

That little girl who showed me the way

She’s a firestarter, pyromaniac it play

She can blow up some shit because she knows no better

But refined… She is genius and shakes her tail feather

The horizon cannot hold her, this child of God and Moore

She put in the time and said Grace for her store

This mystery still she’s found out how to use

Is a vertical prayer, open to gnosis and truth

I’m learning to use it, growing day by day

Excepting my feelings, no judgment, and a loving and kind away

As she hand me the keys and I return to make my shine

She lies back, relaxes and daydreams all the time

I long to filter out what I’ve been told versus what I know

My innermost yearnings, the balance, the flow

The gut, the tingles, the pangs and the blood is still warm

I’ll tell me the truth, like a pouring down storm

It’s like talking to God, From a sacred, me – shaped telephone booth

The mystery still takes me, shapes me, and provides me with the truth