anitalorraine.com

Musician and Activist devoted to Justice, Creativity, and Courage


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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


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Coming in from the cold

10423654_10101519858563348_4963391871808647311_nWatching a cat roll around in catnip is extremely enjoyable. There, now that that’s out I can start this post and get out what’s been trying to exit from me.  I enjoyed watching the late night showing of the Hobbit last night.  A dear friend from Saxapahaw, NC came to visit me up here in Beech Mountain for the first time and all because we’d vowed to one another that we would watch the Hobbit together before it left the theaters.  We made good on our promise.  The journey to Johnson City, Tennessee was about an hour-long and dear Peter joined us thankfully he was able to leave work before midnight.  The three of us trekked into the windy roads of Highway 19 in the dark and made it home safely with all of our precious cargo.

This morning, I had intended to sleep in, yet that was not accomplished.  I only slept until about 8:45 and have been awake from then on.  I made breakfast for my friend and we watched Saturday morning cartoons and drank a few mimosas before he had to head back down the mountain.  The quiet snow is falling outside and it made my friend feel some trepidation, yet he ended up getting out just fine and took me to the mercantile so that I might consume some vittles for lunch before heading out for a walk back home in the 25 degree, powdery weather.  Saying goodbye to my friend, I was sad to see him go.  His visit was short but hopefully next time around we’ll have more time to explore the mountain.

The point of this post is to say that I went for my hike today and came across two very beautiful, medium-sized dogs.  At first, I was startled, they were not on leashes, but I put out my hand and stopped my advancing toward them and let them come to me.  Proper dog manners.  They were at first sniffers and seemingly nervous, but in a moment’s time they were snarfing and leaning and wagging all over.  One was dark curly brown and the other had big spots and was gorgeous and sort of striped, but big stripes of grey and brown with white mainly.  I look up to see the owner and it was someone I know.  After talking to this person briefly and ending the conversation with, “There is always something to be grateful for, have a beautiful afternoon.”  I walked away and turned my thoughts inward.

I must say the rest of the walk calmed me.  I took several photos of the stunning winter scenery and was sure to take each step slowly and contemplatively. The pristine path had not been trodden since the snow had fallen, except for deer and bird tracks.  I even saw the remnants of a woodpeckers work on my favorite Boo Radley tree.  There were fresh wood chips all around the back side of that old, dead tree, and on the other side, the gaping hole I could fit in if desired.  I will put gifts in there, if to no one else then to the tree himself.

I just remembered that while I was eating lunch I was reading a magazine about survival in the Smokies during the winter.  “Will” was the word the editor used in her column.  The will to create things, to live, and to do what your “will be done”.  I am convinced right now that I have the will to get several things accomplished today that I neglected this week and WILL be prepared on Monday to be as badass as I can be, even with a few hours of guitar and Spanish practice to boot.  I just made a fresh batch of kombucha and will be enjoying my freshly bottled elderberry ginger kombucha tomorrow when it is fully carbonated and ready to consume.

All that said, this story has several points:

1. Walking can help to clear the head.  2. I’m emotional today and can feel the pull of the Moon coming back.  3. I started writing a new song for the first time in a very long time just a few days ago and I am now taking guitar lessons.  The badassery to follow has been a long time coming. and 4. It is as if today I have learned something new.  Let’s not forget it now Anita.  This may come in handy in the future.  “Be not half-assed.”


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Maine-ly Beautiful

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Maine was beautiful and playing music and learning music is a divine rejuvenator. I learned a jazz chord progression and many new songs. Sang and played at Moosehead Lake’s The Birches and Easy Street tavern in Hallowell, Maine, and for Ladies Night @ the famous Dancing Saxin’ Bobby Watson’s place.

The Loons sang us to sleep most nights on our Lake-a-daisical tour of Panther Pond, Moosehead and Maranacook Lakes. I looked for moose but to no avail, they remain an illusive fantasy…

Traveling back was tiring but now that Im back, it’s time to turn the page and full-steam ahead as per usual. Playing a private reunion gathering of friends tomorrow night and looking forward to singing more of the words that floated into my head on this wondrous trip to Maine.

Many thanks to Phil Cheney for being my loving traveling companion. Also thanks to our trip comrades Maxwell, Ami, and Krekel. Such a wonderful time with ya’ll. Shouts out to Emil, Maisy, Fabian and crew for your gracious hospitality and love of good things and fun times. Blessings to all.

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