"What do We Want"

When do we want it?
What a day yesterday-it was absolutely beautiful as I arrived with my new friend Kyle up at Volunteer Park long before the masses starting getting there. I wanted to see how this would take shape. As I walk around watching a handful of dedicated people helping set up I couldn't help drifting back to the first time I went to San Fransisco-god I hadn't even come out yet-I was barely 20. I want to
say it was January 1984-for some reason I always thought it had something to do with Dan While- now for those of you don't know who Dan White was here is the link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dan_White
ah this guy was truly a nut case so to speak...
Anyway here I was going to San Fransisco for the first time and there were pissed off queers everywhere...it was amazing...nothing like the riots that had happened a couple of years before that-but none the less still amazing to be around...now granted it took another 6 months for me to truly come out but I am forever grateful for that experience. And until yesterday I had forgotten what it was like to want to be a part of such an important part of history. So many young people out yesterday how incredible. In 1981 when I graduated from high school I didn't even know what the word queer, dyke or fag meant. Times have changed. It would have never even occurred to me that I too could maybe get married to my partner one of these days. First I have to get one but that's not really the point. As I tried to tell my friend today,who really doesn't understand the whole marriage thing- if I married a guy here in Washington then moved to Florida the marriage would be recognized, but if I married my girlfriend here in Washington (not that you can-yet) that it would not would be recognized in the state of Florida or for that most of the rest of the country. I don't think it is so much about the word "marriage", as it is to just be able to have the same cival rights. And really isn't that what we all want.

How right can this be?

I don't know-
Most mornings I wake up and forget to be grateful for all the things I take for granted. Yet I found myself at the hub of all Seattle destinations yesterday morning sitting drinking my Starbucks coffee and a cigarette trying to blissfully ignore that which was all around me. I sometimes think my life sucks because I feel like I am wandering with no direction right now, wanting GOD to give me some burning bush sign that I am indeed headed in the right direction, to give me the answers to the questions I so desperately seek-yet not really ever satisfied with anything put in my path...instead of being grateful for the opportunities I am given today I sit and bitch about all that I do not have. How dare I when this being sat with her life in a backpack the size of what I take for granted everyday. How can you enjoy your life when life sits and looks you right back in the face daring you to complain yet a little more. Then I met Rob- perhaps not seeing the message but more the messenger on this beautiful morning. At first I was afraid to approach him- not knowing what to expect- but this gentle being just wanted what we all wanted. Just some acknowledgment of his existence. Was it any different then what I ask for everyday. I ask him if I could buy him a cup of coffee and share with him a cigarette in exchange for a few pictures- yes he said. I asked him how he like his coffee just black was all he replied. So we sat and smoked silently as I look upon his beat up body- when I finally spoke it was to ask him where he spent the night last night. In a very quiet voice he shared with me that there was a place over by the market that had electrical outlets where he could recharge his battery operated wheelchair and sleep relitavely safe. I ask him how did he get there and as he spoke I felt this immense sadness overwhelm both of us. He shared a story that could have easily been mine. He had a troubled past, spending sometime incarcerated for petty crimes, he hadn't finished high school but worked to get his GED inside. Upon release he found it extremely difficult to find work or go to school- he simpliy said "no one wants to hire a convicted felon". Feeling as if he had nowhere to go and nothing productive to offer society he felt his only way out was to take his own life- but his attempt landed him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I asked him how he got by and he said some money from the government but he ask me if I could live on $300 , I could not was all I could reply. The loop holes he said where unbearable-fighting for his social security was an all consuming effort in his life right now. That and where he was going to sleep-but he said to me he wasn't worried about that yet, it was still early in the day. I sat with him as I watch some people approach us and drop money into his dirty Starbucks cup, he said usually people were not so generous this early in the morning. Maybe he said it had something to do with the warm sun-
As I got up to leave I drop some money into his cup and gave him another cigarette, he said to me thank you for taking the time to talk with me-you let me feel human today as if I had something to offer. No I said to him-thank you for saving my life today.

"Why Do Mannequins Have Hard Nipples"

I love Friday mornings. Contrary to my own misconceptions that I should be fully charged up on Monday mornings-the opposite is true. I find myself arriving on Friday mornings on the corner of 4th & Pike-charged up on not enough sleep all week,copious amounts of caffeine and nicotine & something indescribable- the bliss of yet another weekend filled with homework, a empty bed and a tank full of fish staring at me all hours of the night waiting to be fed. Not that I sleep any less because of the fish. At first I was lulled to sleep by the never ending sound of the bubbles, but when I added the second tank-now its bubbles in stereo.Surround sound by Dolby bubbles. Most nights truth be told it really does aid in falling asleep, but lately between the surround sound, sam the satanic cat kneading bread on black dogs furry chest-kneading her to sleep-all serves to remind me of "EBS" or better known as empty bed syndrome. (By the way-this was a phrase I heard from a friend).Anyway I know what you are thinking-what does any of this have to do with "why do mannequins have hard nipples"? Hold the presses I am getting there.
So there I sat in front of "Starbucks" on 4th & Pike wondering why with my empty thoughts on "EBS"-why is the same roast of coffee I brew at home just a mere hour ago at my house is 10x stronger then mine and my ex said I made it to strong. I always have to ask them to add hot water then I have to add more cream to it-turning it almost white (white coffee) and now it's to cold to drink (because I like my coffee at least 185 degrees)- damn it there I go getting sidetracked by Starbucks. Where was I?
Oh yes-corner of 4th & Pike-black dawn rising, street people wandering(where do they pee anyway?) cigarette smoking and my very luke warm yet strong cup of Pike Place Roast when in the middle of my "EBS" train of thought- I started thinking back to the nipple hardened mannequin I thought I may have seen in those pre-dawn unconscious moments on Monday morning. So I gathered my rolling backpack,and cup of luke warm Starbucks coffee and wandered over to the Macy's window display usually occupied by a sleeping resident. Sure enough there she was standing tall in her purple cashmere sweater pulled taut over her very visible hardened nipples.
Sure she was attractive enough as far as mannequins go-but my question was why? Why were her nipples hard? She was in what I could only assume was a very nice warm window display with a cashmere sweater. How could she be cold? Was it perhaps the hot male mannequin in the window display next to her? So close yet in another window display world away. Did they know each other yet destined to be so close apart-coming close only when it was time to change their dirty clothes? What was the answer-I had to know. Maybe in today's economical crisis where I find it hard to part with my .45 cents in change from Starbucks which use to be my excuse for a lame tip- that perhaps Macy's now more then ever is using nipple hardened beautiful mannequins to sell purple cashmere sweaters. Personally I think perhaps she suffers from "EWS" or better known as "Empty Window Syndrome". Either way I should probably cut back on the coffee...

"Every Kid"

Every kid dreams of being something great. What were you're dreams ask the small girl sitting in my arms. I don't know what I dreamed I replied to her.
Most mornings I awoke,emerging deep from within in my blankets stirring from an unrestful slumber-trying hard to not remember the nightmares from the night before. What did you dream asked the small voice?
I dreamt I hid from the monsters in the night-lumbering through the darkness stealing my youthful ideas of growing up. I dreamt of beautiful gardens and yellow fields sunburnt from the sun setting in the west. I remember once seeing the evening sky lit as if it were on fire, a burning ball of reds, oranges & yellows and wished I had a camera-to capture what I had never seen. I think I said to her colors always fascinated me...colors & textures. People and animals. Water, sun and air. Everything that reminds us the life is alive. And beautiful.
We sat still for a moment as she turned and put her arms around me and said; whatever you dream you can become. Dare to dream she whispered, dare to believe...

"Mom"

Don't ask me why I decided to write about my mom-probably the only valid reason I could give you would be that yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of her passing and with that comes yet another wave of grieving for what was never to be. It is always hard for me because I am not sure how I am suppose to feel- Funny how life comes back around to sometimes bite you on the ass and not leave a physical mark. See my mother and I saw things so very different and yet both sick enough to believe that each of us was right in her own moral convictions. And in the end although I was able to be with her in her last days of human suffering though my suffering continued.
Although I had not spoken to her in almost the 2 years previous to her passing there wasn't much time in which I did not think of her or wonder how her life was. We were so much alike in certain ways. In my drinking days I was living waiting to die, she did not need alcohol to dull her pain of living, she merely passed her time with her god, her bible, baseball and copious amounts of sugar. We all have our ways of escaping. I could not or would not see pass her imperfections or her lack of motherly love as I perceived it. Instead I came to her as a broken adult, expecting her to fix my battle wounds with motherly hugs and kisses and when my fantasy did not bore it fruition's, I resented her even further until my glass castle came shattering down around me. It was then I turned my back on her and her dysfunctional thinking, never stopping long enough to remember that she too may have suffered as the little girl pictured above, becoming what I too had. Funny we were more alike then I had ever imagined.
The day I received the phone call from my sister informing me of of the seriousness of her illness, my friend and confident spoke to me as I sat in waves of guilt and obligation-saying that the only possible way for me to return to her was to let go of those feeling of guilt and obligation and to have no expectations of what was to come or to be. I had done this picture a year and a half before this, I had wanted to honor her,for somewhere in that time of unbearable pain and suffering on my part I found a path for healing. Through art and the ability to see just how beautiful she and I both were. Both just wounded children wanting to be loved. And now I was going to bring it to her while she laid on her deathbed. I would love to say that when I got there that we had those amazing mother-daughter re connections, that I was able to present to her this work of love that we had created, but by the time I got to the hospital she was already starting to slip away and though she was not able to see what I had created for the both of us, I believe she knew in those 72 hours that I sat holding her hand that I had come to acceptance for what had been and what we were sharing. And really in the end we both did the best that we could.

"Two"
Two beautiful flowers soaking in the sun
Though different in appearance,
Wanted the same.
The pink Dalia with her tight spiral cones and pink white tips and yellow center
touching the yellow Dahlia with her open petals tinged with reds and pinks and her red center
Looking they saw how there centers mirrored each other
Seeing the beauty of just how different they were and yet the same
Not one more beautiful then the other
Just different
Yet both so very beautiful alone and together

"Looking through God's Veil"

Good Morning Seattle;
Grab you're sunscreen and sunglasses and head for the city, beaches, the parks or the mountains, wherever you go there you are in all of Washington's beauty. I forget until one of two things happens- either I get behind the lens and accidentally capture the essence of life and love or I fall in love with whatever. In this case however it was was falling in love behind the camera. You know the day was absolutely as beautiful as a day can get in Seattle. As I meander through downtown Seattle taking in all the sights,taking in the colors and the sounds of a busy city day, breathing in the salty air coming off the Puget Sound, it was hard to not just capture random shots. From the homeless trying to blend in with the buildings to the tourist taking in the same sights and sounds that I so often take for granted. At the heart of it all was I- trying to absorb the city's vibration. It felt so alive beneath my feet- with every step I took I absorbed it's life pulse through the souls of my feet and would feel it leave out of my breath, leaving me changed in small unaware ways. I got to Volunteer Park where it was hard to bypass the Asian Art Museum-after all it was absolutely beautiful outside-museums are for rainy days and I made my way to the Dahlia Gardens. I laid against my camera bag under a beautiful oak tree in the shade and gazed at the rampant colors of the flowers before me. To sit and cultivate patience is one of the many gifts I have received in my life today- to be able to sit and appreciate the beauty of these wonderful flowers as I had done so earlier with the many varieties of beautiful dahlia arrangements at Pike Place Market was another. As I closed my eyes I laid in silent contemplation hoping when I was 90 I could still come to this beautiful place, lay under the same beautiful oak tree and appreciate life in all it's splendor. As always when I am trying to capture the beauty and grace that I believe god has created I ask always for the gift to see the world or whatever it is that I am trying to see as if I were looking through god's eyes and to see it as the creative source always sees it. I believe in this instance I captured the very essence of what maybe perhaps god sees. if not then perhaps I got as close as I could to god's perfection on that beautiful September day in the park.

"Flash"

My fish had babies woo-hoo. I know what you're thinking Ziggy really needs to get a life- and yes it's true but on the other hand it is so cool to see little tiny babies just swimming on the bottom of their condo while dory (pictured on the left-mom) and nemo (dad) watch out carefully for their brood. If one of the little babies starts to flounder away mom or dad will gently scoop them up in their mouths and re-deposit them with their siblings. I wish my parents had been that good with me. Lately it feels like I am working on a lot of familiy of origin crap-like dosen't this shit ever go away- Being in recovery I suppose I am given plenty of opportunities to work on unwrapping the person typing before you're eyes. I sat and watched these precious little babies last night for a long time-seeing just how fragile their worlds are. Then looking at my life seeing the same thing-not so much as that my world is fragile but that my recovery is such a gift in navigating in this world. That at times yes my recovery is balanced precariously but as long as I continue to do the work stay connected to my creative source and continue to be the parents to myself that I never knew- then I too can continue to grow into a beautiful spirtual being having a human experience.

So August is coming to an end and I sit and wonder where the hell summer went. Golden as it has been summers go so fast here in the Pacific Northwest. So short they are, hell they are shorter then me. So whats a girl to do with the approaching fall. I love the fall in reality. Pumpkin patches, brilliant color shows with the leaves changing, there is a smell that gets in the air. I have been on the lookout for changing colors on the trees but yet to notice. I love this picture- foxglove in the field of gold. It was a beautiful afternoon when I took this picture-just out walking. I sat down watching the wheat move gently in the afternoon breeze. It is where I have learn to cultivate patience- behind the lense of my camera. It is my get away time-away from the rest of the world, where I can hide and no one see or hears the endless banter going on in my head. I heard someone say a couple of weeks ago there is not much space between our minds and our mouths and so many times during the day it is so apperant how true that is. Much less room then between these two foxgloves-but on that day there was no one to share that beauty with. I wonder how many people walked past those two same flowers and saw what I did.
Live daringly today I will and look to see the beauty that surrounds me in words unspoken.

Day at the Lake

It was suppose to be 90 degrees today.Hot for Seattle. What's a girl and her dog to do-gather up the lounge chair,the beach sheet bottle of water and a book to not read and make my way to Lake Washington. It's been a tough week I must tell you. I haven't been working for the last couple of weeks and I have been going crazy. I don't understand how people can sit in their apathetic states and consciously not work. It is making me crazy. Anyway I don't want to make this about the lazy state of our nation- but I decided to if I were going to be depressed I would not do it in the sauna of my little house. So off we went. It was nice down at the lake and no I will not disclose where it is because it is still relatively unknown. But I got down there and there was no one there...an auspicious start to my stress free day. So Rebos of course went right for the water which I was right behind her. Immediately she spotted the log buried in the water with it's stick fetching branches sticking out. Now I know my dog child after nine years and the part I admire about her is her tenacity- when this dog sets her mind to something and in this case it was wanting that stick fetching branch she was not going to let it go. So I watched her time and time again go after this branch, sometimes biting small parts of it but not getting the whole thing, yet she didn't give up. Eventually I had to pull her off and leash her up but she would keep watching it, I know waiting until she could get back in the water to give it another try.
One of the things in my sober life today is that I get to observe these character traits whether in people or in this case my dog and think "self-you to can do that". I left thinking yesterday that if my dog can go after what she wants time and time again until she succeeds then why can't I? And here is the cosmic ha-ha she never got the stick out of the water, but I haven't seen her so happy, nor sleep any better and if I know my dog should I go back to the lake today, tomorrow or somewhere down the road- if that branch is still sticking out of the water she will try again.

Just a beautiful day in the neighborhood

Just a beautiful day in the neighborhood...won't you be my neighbor. I love my neighborhood, especially this time of the year. Once again I am acutely aware of summer's slow exit fading into what will soon be autumn. But I am getting ahead of myself. Stay in the moment, be the moment, enjoy the moment. I love walking my neighborhood in all its beautiful diversity. I live out by the airport so as I walk it is not uncommon for large planes to make their way over me as they prepare to land. Close enough are they that I can almost see the people staring down, wondering what that tiny speck on the ground is doing. If they were to ask I would tell them "I am taking a picture of these beautiful lilies". The fragrance of these beautiful flowers greet me as I approach them with the wonder of a 5 year old. Searching the water drops as they rivet down slowly on their deep green leaves and deep purple and luscious pink petals. The fragrance only serves to remind me how beautiful life is even on a busy street. That one only has to open their eyes to appreciate that which we pass by- day after day without ever noticing in this blur called life. And for how long will I retain this lily's beautiful smell as a car blasts by me, spewing exhaust into my inner circle reminding me that I to sometimes choose to drive, therefore missing the small water drops that fell with the early mornings rain.
Alright enough with the flower dribble...by the way this photo of the lily although taken with the cellphone was taken into photoshop and given some depth. I may walk back up later and ask the owner of this beautiful garden if I may take pictures of their beautiful flowers.
So onto the Olympics...did anybody else catch the opening ceremony last night. Spectacular! Go China go...I just finish watching or rather listened to the fencing bout...I never realized that someone could be so excited by winning their fencing match. I mean how does happen? One day many years ago a little girl sitting there,whomping on her baby brother with a willow switch when it occurs to her that some day when she grows up she too could be a famous fencer. I don't know-I guess some things still baffle my very small brain.
One other thing I am going to be a happy granma... my Blue Hondurans laid eggs...more to follow

Sunset in West Seattle

So here I sit around a fire built,but not yet lit, except for the fiery glow cast from the setting sun off in the distance. Alone in my thoughts while being present in the moment-conscious of others sitting around me and people passing by alone in their thoughts. Except for the young couple behind me making out passionately lost in their own sunset.
It is beautiful tonight, the kind of summer night one experiences living in Seattle. As the sun goes down for the night and a refreshing chill settles in, one is reminded that these summer meetings are coming to a close soon and the fellowship I seek in these meetings will soon have to be found elsewhere- other rooms, other cities and suburbs. What an amazing gift this life provides today to sit and be one with the artist who created this beautiful sunset. To see the colors, the light and shadows that fall on the Olympic Range, to watch the passing ships between the islands and the city ferrying people back and forth between their destinations. I wonder if they see the same thing I do?Does it matter what they see? I suppose not- perhaps the fact for a brief moment we all see what we want to see. As I sit and talk to my companion I wonder what he sees, but I don't bother to ask. He is seemingly lost in his own thoughts. And I return to my own thoughts...