two days of rain in the desert is enough of a shift in a elemental states to flip your synthysis overnight. Two days of rain, let it be nine, a revolution will happen if I give it time, if it gives me rain, I can discover my old self over again.

Who she was and who she is yet to be

Distance from the old formula and associations are sufficient now. Dwelling in the space in between. Who she was, and who she is yet to be. Two poles on the horizon and the space in between the woman who is no longer the wife has a world at her fingertips to unfold in. Unravelled from the restless space of restriction. Tattered and frayed on the edges, the warp and the weft still bold and reaching from the heart. This magic carpet of life still has some enchanted journeys left.

Re evaluation

I have been approached by a couple of friends who want to sell their paintings. Close friend, can no longer loose themselves in the landscapes. The power of a painting is to hold your imagination. A story in a capsule of oil & canvas. The painting should be an escape. A doorway into a field of a world remove from the unpainted reality. When looking at the painting one shouldn't consider the artist, just an appreciation for the pallet and conjouring. Not what he did before of after he picked up his paintbrush.
Now my friends have a hard time with the constant visual with a lingering lurking thought. I have tried to be discrete, a necessity in a small town, also too with collectors who so often become friends. When I have encountered anyone I masterfully cap the subject with a brief positive statement. There is no reason to repeat the cycle of dissolving. But the unfolding of our relationship altered a lot. Anyone who knew us over the years, would know of the shift. Those that knew the nitty gritty, the apparent madness of the painter could never look at a painting without the taint of discomfort in their bodies. The story of the painters life could never follow the paintings if the paintings were ever to be seen in their true beauty again. Indeed just as I wish that to happen, I hope too that the beauty & value of the painters wife can also be restored & seen by all.

Every step of the day.

I should feel something quite considerable. But I am cautious & all felt out. At first all I was wanting to achieve was my divorce. I didn't imagine the year journey of dissolving our relationship would fracture off & splinter so much of what we thought was certain. The two of us should have escaped all this drama, all these casualties all this loss. This town & its people have been excused the staggering drama . Hero's in love, now all that remains of the epic alliance dismantled & linger like scaffolds of previous grand existences.

Its as if a storm has moved through my existence & left a hollow shell. I walk around the empty room inside. Taking in the contents. He has left for the last time. The papers have been signed. Whats left is the karmic clause & consequences. Thus we are spun out . Both of us unable in some sense. Both of us un cabled to our stream to the dream that we dreamed. Both un tethered from the structure of what we had cultured together. All ripped and torn away.

Washed up on separate shores on the day this day of the new year. I am grateful to get on my feet & see my shelter still standing. I have a place I can walk to. I can walk. He cannot, His broken hip unfixed for careless reasons leaves him limp and humbled every step of the day.

Fair weather friends

I am surrounded by fair weather friends. The slightest storm in a teacup and they flee like fleas on a wetback. Fleaing from adversity as if there were'nt an empathetic bone in their flexible body. 12 years of cocktail raising stands for nothing.

The occasional thorn

They didn't let it happen, Venus is in the dark side... retrograde and removed from reasoning. So I have to accept that the interplay in this stark clinical world of courts and 'objections your honor' have to pick this up and play with it to know the details.

I had been waiting for today, because I was to be divorced. But they didn't let it happen. A plea for a dismissal of the default yada yada fuck up... was somehow accepted. My lawyer was stunned. So it would have nothing to do with my prior tussles with the judge. I had expressed my concerns last week. When this lawyer became mayor of the little historic town at the bottom of the hill, he zoned it off and sold it up the ying yangs. Not content with the available land he brought in a rancher and they worked out a land trade deal with useless checkerboard land 100 miles from her, and carved out prime real estate in this lush little valley. So he & us tussled over his affiliations, and now the monstrosities.

That is one thing. But then 3 years later the barman that works for his wife assaulted and seriously beat up my very best friend. This shook me up considerably. I felt propelled to say something, and as fate would have it I turned up at the recycling lot in the village at the same time. I had seen her face only once in a news paper clip. But i knew who it was as soon as I saw her so I knew fate had place here there for me to give her a piece of my mind. From her point of view, my friend was a stalker, it was evident that her bar man was a premeditating freak. In a small valley of big families you don't want to prong the wrong horn. But that is my nature. A throne in the side of status quo.

I am but a simple happy milk maiden, until you cross my path, then I become the Princess Zena Cowgirl on the Western Frontier. All instinctive and purposeful I barely can harness the reigns. But blazing trails of opinions has its long terms scars.

First blossom on Apricot Tree

Was up on the mountain early this morning, long before sunrise. Good long walk up hill helps get the mind quiet. All the time I was looking for a token of the day.

I am a champion on finding a treasure when I want one. A token from the earth that gestures an offering, a symbol. But today no scat or bones, the birds busy. I sat in a new meditation spot. One of the rare nooks on the hill that is other worldly.

My eye have been playing tricks on me recently. When I meditate the field of focus opens up. I am trying to see the space inbetween everything we see. Maybe I am getting short sighted. But when I am around trees and sky its like I see everything as I have never seen it before.

While sitting and contemplating, on the earth beside me I find a old piece of glass. A broken shard from an old thick bottle. Picking it up I consider it my token for the day. At first I think it too simple to be a symbol. Then I hold it up and look through it, I consider it my lense.

What is changing today is my lense, the way I have been looking at life. No more will I be restricted by the limited field of vision. Looking beyond the lense it opens up a whole world.

As I walk down the mountain the blue birds appear and comment on the day. Entering my little yard the first blossom on the Apricot Tree. Its beaming and bright prospects on the stark grey branches a reminder of the emergence from winter.