anitalorrainemoore

Musician devoted to Justice, Creativity, and Courage


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Greet The Dawn, Foster The Wild

The dawn greeted our hermit

Cool it was

Wind swam through the thorny vines

Dewey shrubs

and tall tree shadow lines

I dreamed of the absentee’s return

The whisper of the path which led to me

The window held my vision

As my eyes drifted

No explanations

Sand crept into my shoes this morning

On my trek away from isolation

In the dark

The Star illuminated

My lessons

Though still dim, they tasted

Of potent potions, salt, fantasy oceans

The chapter I began today

Spoke of caution, beware

Of self-neglect – dear hermit –

Let that light be your guide

Sacred compass

I am the gift to which I bestow

To you my love

Feeding your inner glow

Only when you re-member

Stitch back

The missing pieces

Can affirmations be upheld

Rejoiced, embodied

Love increases and releases

Bless you my sprite,

Rebellious child

I’ll hold you in the dark

The light

And foster you

Wild.

The Hermit Tarot card, number IX – (9) ~Modern Witch Tarot Deck, by Lisa Sterle~




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TuesDay NewsDay Vol 3, Issue 7 – May 26, 2020

TuesDay NewsDay Vol 3, Issue 7 – May 26, 2020

Dedication: This week’s edition of TuesDayNewsDay is dedicated to Amy Alexander and her family.  Here is her obituary and HERE. We said goodbye to Amy on Saturday after she passed on last Tuesday.  Last Tuesday, in lieu of a newsletter, Bruce and I did a memorial livestream on the Facebooks which you can see HERE.  It is more and more difficult to speak of her in the past tense.  Ryan and I had a talk about that. I have so many unutterable feelings.  All I can express right now is my gratitude for her.  I could never be more grateful for her presence in my life as a substitute mom.  I love you Ma.

This is Amy, Loren and me:

This was us (the family of Alexanders and friends) at Thanksgiving last year:

last Thanksgiving

This is Amy and her oldest son, Josh. Everyone knows him as Skip. I called him Skippo. He called me Stinkie. They are together on the other side now and to quote my post about this earlier this week: “My thoughts also drift to our brother Skip during this time. Time slows down when I think of him. There is something strangely comforting and tragic knowing that they’re on the other side together now.”

The week before last, another friend passed over the rainbow bridge, Paul Vasquez (the double rainbow guy) and I made a memorial video for him live on the Instagrams.  You can see that HERE.

paul v rainbow

 

Quote: “WILD KINDNESS” by Jack Kerouac

“By practicing kindness all over with everyone you will soon come into the holy trance, definite distinctions of personalities will become what they really mysteriously are, our common and eternal blissstuff, the pureness of everything forever, the great bright essence of mind, even and one thing everywhere the holy eternal milky love, the white light everywhere everything, empty bliss, svaha, shining, ready, and awake, the compassion in the sound of silence, the swarming myriad trillionaire you are.”

 

Song: “Don’t Be Shy” , by Cat Stevens  »  “Love is better than a song… love is where all of us belong…”

 

Dear Humans,

Cat Stevens says, “Don’t be shy just let your feelings roll on by, don’t wear fear or nobody will know you’re there..” Today, as we lift our heads to the heavens all around us, it is with acceptance and grace that we move through grief and mourning those souls who have gone before.  To be real as can be, this last year has gifted many opportunities for pause and reflection, gratitude and silence, reception and art, Spirit messages and an outpouring of gifts we can only begin to imagine.  This may seem folly, overly light-hearted, or flippant – but please, know I say these things with extreme reverence in the midst and acknowledgment of the pain and suffering in our world right now too.

As I sit here on this magical rock, a direct connection to the heartbeat of this earth, I have no choice but to breathe and sigh, sit in awe of the moving spectacle of the water coursing through my toes,  the sunlight pouring in through juvenile leaves of Summer.  The Elm and Sycamore, the Box elder and Tulip Poplar are my Sacred canopy.  The bees gently buzz in puddles left from the latest flood.   I have been blissfully swimming in poetry and space, gifts of song and tears, all the while mourning and then once again, with dry and damp eyes, tapping into the divine through connections with others, these plants, the garden soil, growth, and my dearest buzzing, singing, trumpeting beautiful flying beings.

No, I cannot complain.  Yes, there has been much loss. Yet, I am making my own type of peace simply by surrendering to what is.  Supplication to blessings, even if they hurt.  Nodding my head and heading in the direction to which I am called, without an ounce of regret or hesitation.

I love you all.  Thank you for Being. Thank you for being there, being challenging, being real, being You.

 

ALM

 

Shows: Ha! I’ll do a live stream tonight on Facebook at 9pm! Here’s the link to my FB music page, that is where the live stream will be going on. Anita Lorraine Moore Music on Facebook

Visual aids and insights from Life:

Tulip poplar

Tamales with Bruce

 

Amy Eifell Tower

Amy and the Eiffel Tower!

 

 

Thanksgiving 2018

Thanksgiving 2018

 

 

amy and litte one

Last photo Scott took of Amy being a Grama, one of her favorite things in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wet Forest

 

Days of crying

 

Home studio mess with Bruce last week

 

 

 


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TuesDay NewsDay Vol 3, Issue 4 – March 17, 2020

Hey yall, It’s Tuesday.  The Earth turned into the Sun again today.  The clouds parted so that we may feel the warmth of that Sun too.  For those things and more, I am hella grateful.  Please see the passage below.  I am re-reading this little book called Practicing Peace and it speaks to every ounce of what is happening in the world right now and how we can all choose to evolve through these times.  Pema on Racial Injustice

Dedication: To everyone. All the people. All the animals. All the plants. All the Spirits.

Quote:  Practicing Peace by Pema Chödrön.  “War begins when we harden our hearts, and we harden them easily— in minor ways and then in quite serious, major ways, such as hatred and prejudice—whenever we feel uncomfortable. It’s so sad, really, because our motivation in hardening our hearts is to find some kind of ease, some kind of freedom from the distress that we’re feeling. Someone once gave me a poem with a line in it that offers a good definition of peace: “softening what is rigid in our hearts.” We can talk about ending war and we can march for ending war, we can do everything in our power, but war is never going to end as long as our hearts are hardened against each other.

What happens is a chain reaction, and I’d be surprised if you didn’t know what I’m talking about. Something occurs—it can be as small as a mosquito buzzing—and you tighten. If it’s more than a mosquito—or maybe a mosquito is enough for you—something starts to shut down in you, and the next thing you know, imperceptibly the chain reaction of misery begins: we begin to fan the grievance with our thoughts. These  thoughts become the fuel that ignites war. War could be that you smash that little teensy-weensy mosquito. But I’m also talking about war within the family, war at the office, war on the streets, and also war between nations, war in the world.

We often complain about other people’s fundamentalism. But whenever we harden our hearts, what is going on with us? There’s an uneasiness and then a tightening, a shutting down, and then the next thing we know, the chain reaction begins and we become very righteous about our right to kill the mosquito or yell at the person in the car or whatever it might be. We ourselves become fundamentalists, which is to say we become very self-righteous about our personal point of view.

…The next time you get angry, check out your righteous indignation, check out your fundamentalism that supports your hatred of this person, because this one really is bad—this politician, that leader, those heads of big companies. Or maybe it’s rage at an individual who has harmed you personally or harmed your loved ones. A fundamentalist mind is a mind that has become rigid. First the heart closes, then the mind becomes hardened into a view, then you can justify your hatred of another human being because of what they represent and what they say and do.

…If you look back at history or you look at any place in the world where  religious groups or ethnic groups or racial groups or political groups are killing each other, or families have been feuding for years and years, you can see—because you’re not particularly invested in that particular argument— that there will never be peace until somebody softens what is rigid in their heart. So it’s necessary to take a big perspective on your own righteousness and your own fundamentalism when it begins to kick in and you think your own aggression and prejudice are reasonable.

I try to practice what I preach; I’m not always that good at it but I really do try. The other night, I was getting hard-hearted, closed-minded, and fundamentalist about somebody else, and I remembered this expression that you can never hate somebody if you stand in their shoes. I was angry at him because he was holding such a rigid view. In that instant I was able to put myself in his shoes and I realized, “I’m just as riled up and self-righteous and closed minded about this as he is. We’re in exactly the same place!” And I saw that the more I held on to my view, the more polarized we would become, and the more we’d be just mirror images of one another—two people with closed minds and hard hearts who both think they’re right, screaming at each other. It changed for me when I saw it from his side, and I was able to see my own aggression and ridiculousness.

Image result for pema chodronIf you could have a bird’s-eye perspective on the Earth and could look down at all the conflicts that are happening, all you’d see are two sides of a story where both sides think they’re right. So the solutions have to come from a change of heart, from softening what is rigid in our hearts and minds.”

Practicing Peace Mini-Book PDF

 

Song: I Want To Be Here – by Neko Case, here’s the video Bruce and I played for today with this song, recorded by my awesome roommate, Andrea. InstaVideoSongPost

Dear Humans,

The excerpt from above means a lot to me.  I wish I could somehow transfer this sentiment of softening our hearts to every human on this planet.  Some people know this already, but some people don’t and would never agree… so we’d have to sneak it in while they were sleeping.  We could send a little whisper of Love into their ears via magic fairy dust or something they couldn’t successfully shake out or wash off in the morning.  I don’t have much to say that Pema didn’t already about all that’s happening out there in the world.  I wish everyone rest and a calm heartbeat.  I wish everyone food in their bellies and enough resources to provide for what they need.  I wish for marginalized people to have some peace of mind and heart.  I wish those in power would use it for the betterment of society instead of to its detriment.  I wish for people’s hearts to soften and to feel what it is that could truly save this world, Love.  (and 6 feet of temporary personal space…)  Goodnight y’all.

 

 


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Grit and Moss

 

    At this moment, all that exists in my sights are the darkness of the night sky through the window, the golden light of a candle glimmering in my periphery and the glow of this computer screen.  Of late, I have read many stories by writers about their influences and writers whom they adore. The most compelling stories depict how the main inspiration was the author’s own life, their own experiences and hardships were their teachers and the stories told themselves, their fingers were merely a medium.

    Songs seem to come to me this way.  Ideas for paintings, projects, special studies… they all jump into my mind and slam the “Go” button, yet, it wasn’t my choice to press it.  Once, I was asked to write my autobiography on one page. That was horribly prohibitive. It takes a half-hour just to get started when telling about my life.  Perhaps I am simply detail-oriented or lack conciseness. I see everything as bleeding into everything else, just like a watercolor painting which starts with too much water.  Except, in life, those bleeding tales need no judgment, at this point, of too much or too little liquid. Those tales exist only in the memories of my body and when I think back to them or something reminds me of them; I can only experience them in the moment or in a dream.  At times, I become overwhelmed with the sound of my heart beating and shortness of breath. Other times, the need to sleep or eat suddenly tips me over and makes me weak in the knees. In more extreme cases, fear fills every pore, unexplainable in the present moment as to why and I find myself floating above, as an outsider looking in, disassociating.  Somehow, I can become a shadow when the worst moments resurface. I get lost in the replay and the mountainous weight of knowing there is nothing I can do to change the stories. In those dark and tremendous moments, there are veins reaching into the future, into the people I love, into the choices I make, into the way I look in the mirror, into the way strangers look at me…  All this is happening under the guise of a smiling, confident, albeit sometimes distracted, woman.

    Imagine what it would be like if those moments disappeared.  What would happen if those shocking and depressing moments no longer plagued those of us who share them?  There could be a light, a blinding light, swirling out of my forehead. I see light emanating from my fingertips and from each strand of hair.  There is no memory in my body, from the earliest of early storage drawers of visions, that does not have a tinge of sadness. I cannot remember ever feeling completely light, free, and without judgment.  Fear permeates every facet of life. I could be beaten for not finishing my dinner or having an accident potty training. I could be abused or taunted by any man who walked by. I could be ridiculed for being imperfect by any movement, decision, performance or by simply existing.  Simultaneously, I was treasured and praised when I was approvable. In public, I was the gem of the show. I was “the rock”. The undeterminable atmosphere of our home, the lack of comfort, the affectation of normalcy, the quid-pro-quo nurturing, the unending sarcasm, perversion, and the predatorial context into which my sister and I were forced to exist has created, in me, a person who needs to come to terms with the impact such a life has had on my body.  The lives and bodies of millions of people in this world are all carrying scars on their beating hearts from childhood. They learned about their lack of importance, their prescribed stupidity and their lack of control so early, the notion that such things don’t HAVE to hold them down may never be realized in their lives. They may never individuate.

    I have the privilege of a new awareness of how my body, heart, and mind are all interconnected and I proclaim that the marks carved into my being are going to be brought to light.  Immunity to sickness and dedication to health are the core of my focus now. The amount of time it will take to begin to feel whole and happy again may be lengthy. Yet, I am here.  I am learning. My body is going to heal. I have magnets in my heart and the celestial bodies and our beautiful, magical planet are connected by those same forces.

I am filled with grit. I am the softest green moss of the forest floor.

In some corner of my mind, I have yet to unearth, there is the North star of hope.

I am seeking Spirit by this river’s shore and in my inner flame’s ashes and smoke.

long exposure of photography of brown tree

Photo by Harrison Haines on Pexels.com

 


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TuesDay NewsDay Vol. 3, Issue 1 – January 14th, 2020

The room is filled with restaurant sounds; the cutlery is clicking on plates and bowls. Autumn Leaves is coming from the trombone, piano, upright bass and drums. How lovely.

Dedication: Today is dedicated not to a person, but to the priceless concept of forgiveness. Without it, we remain cold and buried in our own asses. With it, we become softer and compassionate toward and acknowledging of others’ simultaneous struggles in this world. Thank you forgiveness. Thank you to those of us who forgive easily. Thank you to those of us who know we need to work on it. …and bless you to those of us who struggle with forgiveness.

Quote: “Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.” Mark Twain

Song: This song reminds me of riding in the backseat of my grandparents’ car on one of our thousands of Sunday drives, as we meandered in and around rural North Carolina, listening to classic country music, the “Country Gold” cassette tape set.

I Love by Tom T. Hall

Dear Humans:

It has been a few weeks since an official newsletter and if you watch my weekly video series, you can find out why. So much has happened since the end of 2019! It was a roller-coaster of a year! As I was answering a journal prompt about last year during my morning writing, it became clear that 2019 was packed with physical, emotional, intellectual challenges and feats. I had major ankle surgery and was laid up in bed for 12 weeks. My new job teaching started in January last year, the whole year of creating curriculum and learning how to teach adults in real life was demanding and in all honesty, I didn’t enjoy it. (Thankfully this year, I feel a bit different and am excited about the prospect of continuing. That surprised me.) Many things were left behind: some relationships, my lack of boundaries and fear of others’ judgments. Surely, the latter two of the three aforementioned castaways will crop up from time to time in cyclical lessons, yes. However, each time growth will emerge and lessons will help to create a better human up in here. We learned why my digestive system was torn apart for years (of course stress will hurt anyone’s stomach) – I’m allergic to beef and beef products, gluten and other hooved animals! We also learned that I have an insane amount of allergies! WTF?! Glad to know more about myself now, so I can take care. I plan to heal and end the allergies and grow back the cartilage which was damaged in my ankle surgery; I know these things can be done.

A part of my childhood was left behind as well. The child within who operated out of fear and scarcity has become known to me. I have a serious desire to feel security and my motivations in attempt to obtain that security were unmasked. I no longer feel the need to look to others (my grandparents specifically) to provide the shelter and protection, something I desperately once needed and am eternally grateful. Adios 2019! Enter stage left and right the new decade with a new abode, new music, new understandings, and new relationships (with others and with myself.).

The album is trudging along. It is a struggle to make time when I am working two jobs. Rest assured, it will be finished sometime soon! I was thinking by the end of January… but I truly don’t know right now. Still aiming for late June for the party. If it happens, wonderful. If it doesn’t, that’ll be fine too.

happy new year y’all, may you find peace and for those under fire, you are in my prayers

Upcoming Shows: Sunday, High Point 2pm-5pm https://facebook.com/events/s/eliqqn-ii-portraits-of-gavin-g/2306691406283389/?ti=icl

Next week, Friday, January 24th – I’ll be playing with Tim Smith at Special Treats on Weaver Dairy Rd in Carrboro! 6-10pm! Come out and get some candy! Ear candy too!

Lately in pictures:


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Candlelight on a Friday Night

Everyone’s trying to find themselves these days;

seems like the topic of the decade.

Lovers masked behind the text on a screen,

alcohol masking all emotions to be seen.

Our game of tug-of-war between our projections and our shadows,

we stand, stunned in silent stillness, wondering how deep the wound goes.

We’ve forgotten the non-electric world,

between fingers, between addictions, distractions….the absurd.

I’m always on the verge of falling in love… and a desire to be safely furled.

My fear of intimacy may actually be unknowing – can I learn?

Who can teach me?  How do attraction and true love work?

I sit here by candlelight on a cold and dreamy Friday,

wondering if my body’s wasting away.

All the while, imagine the line outside,

hanging my drying lingerie.