Last day of class and Patric decides to doodle on my arm in turquoise Sharpie. And because he's so sweet, I let him.
Do! Make it!
I stole this from Osbasso, who stole it from the lovely Ago-go, who stole.....
Directions:
Go to Google and click on the images link. Type in the following and post the first (or your favorite) picture the search engine finds.
- The name of the town where you grew up
- The name of the town where you live now
- Your name
- Your Grandmother’s name (pick one)
- Your favorite food
- Your favorite drink
- Your favorite song
- Your favorite smell
The name of the town where you grew up:
Newark, CA
It's up in the Bay Area, "The Capital of Fremont"
The name of the town where you live now:
Burbank, CA
This photo probably has to do with the Burbank airport (now known as "Bob Hope Airport")
Your name:
Madley
There's a little town in England called Madley that hosts a big satellite linkup... I have to visit someday!
Your Grandmother’s name (pick one):
Nieves (Mom's mom, which means "snow")
I looked up Dad's mom too, Purissima -- I didn't know there was a tulip with that name, so beautiful.
Your favorite food:
Steak -- no big surprise!
(Apparently other carnivores have used this photo too...where's dinner?)
Your Favorite Drink:
Cranraspberry drink (one of many)
Ended up getting this cute photo of cranraspberry taffy... doesn't that look delicious?
Your Favorite Song:
"A House is Not A Home"
This was the very first image -- I even bypassed pictures of Ilia skating to the song.
Your Favorite Smell:
Gardenia
I want to inhale it into my very pores. (Nightblooming jasmine will do in a pinch. :)
Heidi read this to us in her Alchemy of Love class -- I want to say it was the first class "Invoke the Heart" but I'm not sure.
There is a tribe in East Africa in which
the art of intimacy is fostered even before birth.
In this tribe, the birth date of a child is not counted
from the day of its physical birth
nor even the day of its conception, as in other cultures.
For this tribe the birth date is marked
the first time the child is a thought in the mother’s mind.
Intending to conceive a child from a particular father,
the mother then goes off to sit alone under a tree.
There she listens until she can hear the song
of the child she hopes to conceive.
When she has heard it, she returns to her village
and teaches it to the father
so that they can sing it together as they make love,
inviting the child to join them.
After the child is conceived, she sings it to the baby in her womb.
Then she teaches it to the old women and midwives of her village,
so that throughout the labor,
and at the miraculous moment of birth itself,
the child is greeted with its song.
After the birth, all the villagers learn the song of their new member
and sing it to the child when it falls or hurts itself.
It is sung in times of triumph or in rituals and initiations.
This song becomes a part of the wedding ceremony
when the child is grown-–
And at the end of life, his or her loved ones
gather around the deathbed
And sing this song for the last time.
Two weeks ago Heidi gave us this assignment:
Song of Self - Extending the Heart
Create a performance, no longer than 3-4 minutes that is a Song of Yourself. You can use words, dance, music, song, objects or some or none of the above. Think about your audience too. Where are we in the space in relationship to your performance?
There is no right way to do this.
She also said to "push ourselves" and face our fears...
So I wrote this piece. My Song of Spirit, called Lily, an organic, off-the-top-of-my-head title -- until I was reminded that my mother's childhood nickname in was Lily (for Soledad).
I handed out music (voice part only) and rehearsed the class twice on the Yamaha piano I brought with me. Then they sang it to me. Heaven.
This week, I had the CD and we played it on Gonz's laptop so they could hear the accompaniment. Then they hummed it to me...and I went numb.
Maybe Mom didn't sit under a tree waiting for a song to reveal itself -- but now the "missing link" of nondeservingness is gone. I've celebrated myself.
Here it is: Lily
(:57 seconds).
And please -- hum it to me on my special days.
An open thanks to all who left me comments re: my HNT photo yesterday -- so wonderful to be seen and responded to like that. Thanks, Osbasso, for making HNT happen.
And to those who wrote about my eyes and lips... I am equal parts self-conscious and moved. Thank you.
I started with the "half" part, trying to be all arty-farty and such -- then I remembered 5th grade science class and the fact that I had photoshop...
And it's true, it's true -- neither side matches the other. Now I know what side is my "good" side! hahahah (no sarcastic comments from the peanut gallery, please).
Happy HNT!
So much to say about this wedding in Sacramento last weekend -- will complete soon. Suffice it to say, Andrea was shocked and moved when her mom and Rick surprised her by singing this Martina McBride song to her at the reception.
What a beautiful moment!
Ah, blogging is so fun -- thanks for turning me on to this, YankeeBob!
Okay, I'm not that creative for today, my first Thursday -- but it's also not often I get to show off a nekkid Pacific-Islander-and-ready-to-climb-coconut-trees foot that's freshly manicured in a Pimp My Ride kind of color (that I love so be nice). And did you notice the background -- it's the HNT guideline page! But next week I'll be a bit more...inventive. :)
Wanna play? Just click on the button and read the guidelines -- and share away!
