My brother John, a wig and a mask

For my Grandparents Memorial service

Life is strange,
and reality is weird,
but I know that every time I breathe
you are a part of me.

Every time the moon is shaped like a smile, I will see my Grandfather.
Every time the wind blows soft and almost sad, I will feel my Grandmother.

The smell of wood chips, tabaco, fresh baked cookies
and popsicle drips melting on the sidewalk,
set a backdrop in my memories of you.

Memories mostly faded
like the ones of you holding me as a baby.
Memories which write the story of how you loved me.

I want to thank you.
Thank you for the walks through the neighborhood gardens.
The old Irish farietales.
The love for literature you encouraged in me.
Thank you for White Fang.
The times in your kitchen when I would help you cook
and watch you doodle flowers on napkins.
The garage filled with magical wooden toys
and one very old glass doll just for Celeste.
The garage fridge which seemed to have a never ending supply of popcicles.

You are such a part of my life.
You gave me my Dad and Nancy.
Two of the most amazing and true individuals I know!
You are the reason my favorite people exist,
my brothers and sisters.
Three of whom I am so proud
and the other two of us who are a source of never ending amazement.
The five of us carry you in each of us
in such different ways.

I am only beginning to understand the strength needed
to just get through life,
much less live it well.
I am so proud to call you my Grandparents.

My Grandpa smiled, laughed, joked and created.
My Grandma had depth, dignity and a straight forward view of the world around her.

I have a deep love for you both,
which flows through my veins
and beats with my heart.
I think that you loved me my whole life
and I only wish I had grasped this sooner.

Every time I feel joy, hurt, amazement, pain,
laughter, anger or the light of a new experience
you will live through me.

Just like the chalkboard hanging in the playhouse
with the scribbles we drew when we were little
was never erased, and always treasured
so will you be.
Always.
I love you.
Always.
I miss you.
Always.
I am glad you are free.

Who says words with my mouth

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in tis aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear, who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes?
What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me back.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
--Rumi

"Last night a DJ saved my life"

Back when man was stumbling around the dusty savannas figuring out the best way to surprise a woolly mammoth, he found his experience divided sharply between night and day. In the light he was a naked animal, prey to those greater than him; but once darkness fell he joined the gods. Under the star-pierced sky, with flaming torches smearing his vision and armies of drummers hammering out a relentless beat, he ate some sacred roots and berries, abandoned the taboos of waking life, welcomed the spirits to his table, and joined his sisters and brothers in the dance.

More often than not, there was somebody at the center of all this. Someone who handed out the party plants, somebody who started the action, somebody who controlled the music. This figure -the witchdoctor, the shaman, the priest-was a little bit special, he had a certain power. The next day, as you nursed your hangover, he probably went back to being just your next door neighbor-that guy two huts down who wears a few too many feathers-but when the lights were off and you were heading out into a drum-and-peyote-fulled trance, he was the don.

Today (no offense to rabbis and priests, who try their best) it is the DJ who fills this role. it is the DJ who presides at our festivals of transcendence. Like the witchdoctor, we know he's just a normal guy really-I mean look at him- but when he wipes away our everyday lives with holy drums and sanctified basslines, we are quite prepared to think of him as a god, or at the very least a sacred intermediary, the man who can get the great one to return out calls.

In a good club, and even in most bad ones, the dancers are celebrating their youth, their energy, and their sexuality. They are worshiping life through dance and music. Some worship with the heightened levels of perception that drugs bring; but most are carried away merely by the music and the people around them. The DJ is the key to all this. By playing records in the right way the average DJ has tremendous power to affect peoples states of mind, A truly GREAT DJ, just for a moment, can make a whole room fall in love.

Because you see, DJing is not just about choosing a few tunes. It is about generating shared moods; its about understanding the feelings of a group of people and directing them to a better place. In the hands of a master, records become the tools for rituals of spiritual communion that for many people are the most powerful events in their lives.

round and round again

I want to do so much more then this.
I want to be so much more.
I don't know how.
There is no one who can help me find myself, much less save me.
When did I give up on myself? How did I let this happen?

I don't want a savior, I just need a mentor.
This was never who I was supposed to be.
I have had the strength to get through ridiculously painfull life situations before,
I must, I simply must find the strength to save the last person in the world I care to save..
myself.

Dream within a dream

Last night the aliens told me that I'm just fine, and to stop pretending to be lost.

They also told me that I will love you forever.
I'm letting you go.
Go. Away. Please.

Stop it!

Stop watching TV!
Just do it!
Never repeat a story you have heard in the news.
You are spreading propaganda AND being used.
Don't do it.

The truth is out there.

you just have to look harder.

Don't numb your mind just because you are scared.
Hack the planet if you must.

Here's something to read..."Everyday there is fresh evidence that government spending to stimulate demand was critically necessary to pull the country out of the economic tail spin caused by the reckless risk-taking of essentially unregulated private financial markets. Contrary to right wing theory, private consumer demand and new business investment are not leading the way out of the Great Recession -- in reality, government demand was an absolute necessity. "

There's more out there, just look harder.

peace out
-Heidi-