Monthly Archives: September 2007

Inner Journeys…

As is evident from my recent posts, I’m at a rather disillusioned juncture. I have not been feeling creative in the least, though I haven’t tried very hard to poke at the dying embers either, but rather feel like I’m in a “gathering” stage right now, wanting to read, absorb, and well, rest… gather energy for the next phase.

I’ve reached a point in my spiritual journey where traditional religion seems archaic and unreasonable, illogical, even, while the new age stuff seems all teddy bears and rainbows… all fluff and no substance… a backlash of the overuse of psychedelic drugs in the last several decades of the twentieth century. Everyone wants a panacea without the work (kind of like my wanting to lose a quarter of my body weight without changing my eating habits or exercising). I’ve been struggling with judgement lately… self-judgement… the judgement of others… letting others’ energy pollute my soul. I’ve been struggling with trying to free myself of the thickness of the “air” around me at the office while trying to keep from rationalizing others’ actions, or passing judgement. It’s a difficult task… perhaps once I’ve finally mastered this state, I’ll finally be free of it… free to move on to other things… hopefully closer to my soul’s journey.

I just finished reading The Alchemist by Paolo Coehlo today, which fits nicely with the past-life regression session that I attended yesterday at Awakenings in Laguna Hills. It’s been some time since I’ve attended any sort of “innerwork” session, and I’ve been feeling quite stale spiritually. Again, the word disillusioned comes to mind.

I stopped to chat with one of my co-workers on Friday afternoon before heading out and she asked me if I wanted to accompany her to this past-life regression session. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to go, and even less whether I really wanted to participate. The following morning we missed each other’s calls and I ended up at the bookstore without my co-worker, still not sure whether I was going to take part in this session. Participants were starting to filter in, but the facilitator hadn’t shown up yet. Then, Fabienne arrived, dressed in purple, toting a purple pillow and blanket, and I was just about convinced to stay. It was after I exchanged a few words with her (in French) that clinched it. It was an omen, and I decided to take the journey, whether I thought I was ready or not.

I’ve done quite of bit of soul work in the past, everything from “awakening the child-within” sessions to shamanic soul retrieval journeying, so this concept was not a new one to me. One can take it literally or symbolically, though what matters most is the end result: discovering what it is that is impeding the soul’s progress.

In any case, many years ago I’d also read Many Lives, Many Masters: The True Story of a Prominent Psychiatrist, His Young Patient, and the Past Life Therapy That Changed Both Their Lives by Brian Weiss, during a time when I was fully immersed in my new age research. Amongst many books on reincarnation, I’d also read Past Live, Future Loves by Dick Sutphen. At the time of my father’s passing, the book that helped me deal with my loss the most was Ecstasy Is a New Frequency by Chris Griscom. If you are familiar with Shirley Maclaine’s writings then you will recognize Chris as the acupuncturist who assisted Shirley with the solid reconnection to her higher self, and took her through many of her past lives via an acupuncture technique called “windows to the sky.”

And so… enter quantum physics and the “new” sciences. Several years ago I picked up a book by Lynne Mctaggart entitled “The Field: The Quest for the Secret Force of the Universe.” This was my “a-ha” moment… tangible “evidence” that what the mystics and sages have been saying for millenia has now become measurable… or close to it. Yesterday I also picked up Ervin Laszlo’s Science and the Akaskic Field: An Integral Theory of Everything, which goes along similar lines.

So, to get back to my story–I enjoyed my regression session and though I found that it was not quite as profound as it could have been, I was able to grant permission to my self to release some old patterns of behaviour that is keeping me from fulfilling what Paulo Coehlo calls in his book The Alchemist my Personal Legend. And so, to my soul I say: Godspeed!

Overwhelm

Well, you’d think that somewhere in my life there is respite, but there isn’t. I’m working like a mad person at the office and leaving daily feeling like a wet noodle, to arrive home to another job… make dinner… clean up… de-ant-ify the kitchen counter… fold and put away clean laundry… the list could be longer, but I can only do so much. By the time I finish with that, I don’t feel like doing anything except crashing, so my art projects lay unattended to.

I know… I sound like I’m feeling sorry for myself. Yup, I am, though I try not to indulge myself in that sort of thing because it doesn’t resolve anything and only makes me feel all the shittier.

On the up side, I purchased a couple of subscriptions to the Pacific Symphony Orchestra’s upcoming season at the O.C. Performing Arts Center. Gabriel and I will be attending the children’s programme on Saturday mornings, and I’ve purchased tickets for a half dozen performances off of the Classics roster. I’ve not heard them play in the new Center, so I’m looking forward to experiencing that. I never thought I’d say this but I’ve grown to love classical music. I love all types of music, depending upon what mood I’m in, but there’s nothing quite like hearing classical pieces performed live. It moves me to another place… within myself, perhaps without myself, replete with goosebumps, and soaring heart and has the power to move me to tears. But then… the Incubus concert I went to a few weeks ago did the same thing; how’s that for eclectic?

Diving within… or maybe I’m just PMSing…

Well… I’ve been working like a sonofabitch at the office these last few weeks, so I’m feeling rather burnt out, but I’ve been feeling bummed lately…

You know, most people have someone in their lives that they can open up to. Someone who will love them for who they are, regardless of their flaws. There is a sense of comfort in knowing that someone really gives a damn about you, and it’s tangible… in their touch, their tone of voice, or how they look at you.

Lately I’ve been hearing comments about my outward appearance–by strangers–at the mailboxes by some college students passing by, or a couple sitting the next booth over at a restaurant. Not nice stuff like “oh look how pretty she is in those khakis” or “love those curls” … more like “…looks like a man with long hair” or “…shamu…” Let’s face it, I’m about fifty pounds over weight, but have had absolutely no motivation to lose any of it… that would require more work, and I’m already f’n tired. Besides… I love cheese, wine, crusty white bread, cream and chocolate… and any other consumable food. Not in huge quantities, mind, but in variety.

I’ve spent so much time working and caring for my innerself that my outerself is in somewhat a shambles. When I look in the mirror sometimes I don’t like what I see so much, especially around my middle… my belly is bigger than I’d like, but mostly I think that I’ve weathered the storm fairly well, and believe me, there have been storms. Plenty of them.

I’m in a strange place in my life. More behind me that ahead of me, and not anywhere near where I would like to be, or thought I’d be. Other than from my 11-yr old son, I’ve not heard the words “I love you” by any other human since my mom has passed away, and yet I am married and have been for almost fifteen years. Same thing goes for “you’re beautiful”… and honestly, I think my son is biased, yes? Which leads me to my next train of thought… no matter how confident you are within yourself, positive reinforcement is always welcome, and when someone close to you doesn’t see your (inner or outer) beauty, or doesn’t share how they feel apart from commenting on your sexual prowess, then there is definitely a sense of uncertainty that starts creeping in.

But then again… what does it matter? What is the point of all of this, anyway? I often think that I’ve been blessed with these circumstances so that I can overcome fundamental flaws within myself… my humanity. Getting away from my god-source by being distracted with vanity… or the need for tenderness or to be acknowledged… or loved. So all of that is stripped away from me, and I am left with… me. And sometimes… it’s a lonely place to be.

Tattoo time


Pre-tattoo

I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a long time, but each time I’d make an appointment, when the time came I’d end up cancelling it. Mostly it had to do with not being sure about the artist who would be working on me. Well I finally made an appointment and kept it! I found OC Tattoo by doing a Google search, and when I saw that one of the artists was called “Gabe Csobi” I knew I’d found the right place. I emailed Gabe on his MySpace site and we set an appointment for last night. I had printed off a bunch of images for reference, and he freehanded the general shape of my wristband, and then set to work.

Well, everything anyone who has had a tattoo done ever told me about it hurting was true… but I knew that going in, so I was prepared to sit. There is a lot of shading, and there is no black outline, so it’s all tiny little pinpricks of pigment being built up. The top of my arm was certainly much less sensitive than the sides and bottom. I go back in about ten days for the second sitting. I love what he’s done so far!

Green & Copper postcards


Green & Copper Postcard
Polaroid transfer onto watercolor paper
Hand-tinted with pastels

I’ve been working on my color-themed postcards. I have finished the Polaroid transfers, but still have to hand-tint a little over half of them. I picked up these new pan pastels and love how they apply. I was going for suble coloring and they work famously. I shot this photograph at the cemetary on Mount Royal** in Montreal many years ago. They have fabulous old monuments that date back to the first French settlers.

** It seems I overstated the antiquity of the Mount Royal Cemetary but several centuries… shows how much attention I was paying during history class…

More birthday wishes


Karoly (a.k.a. “Charlie”) Csicsmann
9/6/1924 – 10/5/1991
POW camp, Siberia
circa 1945-1950

I was a daddy’s girl, through and through, no doubt about that. My dad was many things, perhaps, but he was always a good father to me. He was funny, bawdy, kind, generous, amazingly intelligent, irreverent, enigmatic, patient. It was funny how he could be so blatant about some things and yet much of his inner life remained much of a mystery. As the card to the left shows (click and you will read a note from his co-workers), he was quite something. He taught me to swear in six languages. Instead of getting angry at me for drinking, he’d revel in how I’d drink most of everyone under the table (especially taking pride in the fact that many of them were guys). Like MacGyver, he could fix anything. He would give you the shirt off of his back if he thought you needed it more than he did. Yup, he was something.

Had he lived much past his 67th birthday, he would be turning 83 tomorrow. I miss him… every day. Not a day goes by that I don’t still think of him, it just doesn’t smart as much. I wonder how much longer he would have been around had he not worked in a cigarette factory breathing in the chemicals and tobacco, or smoked Camel plains.

Star gazing…


25 Degrees Restaurant, Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel

On Friday afternoon, Gabriel and I headed to L.A. for the weekend. We stayed at the Roosevelt on Hollywood Blvd., one of the historic (read: oldest) remaining hotels in the area. It has recently undergone some renovation, but apparently our room was still in need of some, as when I had decided to take a shower and stepped in the tub, the faucet assembly was missing… just a tube stuck out from the ceramic tile. After about an hour and several visits from the maintenance crew, the faucet was in place and I was able to take my shower. I thought it strange that they would rent a room out without all of the plumbing intact. Even with the renovations, it had a somewhat grungy feel to it; perhaps the painting technique used on the tile in the bathroom, which made it look dirty, and the enamel chipping off the bottom of the tub or the haphazard spackle beneath the black paint on one of the walls of the room, or even the not so clean duvet cover (though the bed was very comfortable). My 11 year old son and I had a good chuckle about the shag bag in the mini-bar (he said something about the folks who stay here were more concerned about the shag bag than the missing tub faucet… ahhhh, such wit!).

The food, however, was excellent. We ordered room service twice and both times the food was excellent, though costly. The lemon curd pancakes were definitely memorable. On our final day’s stay we went to have breakfast in the restaurant downstairs, 25 Degrees. The food was tasty but again quite costly.


Click for enlarged view

Something must also be said of the sumptuous lobby area, which has retained its majestic presence. The bellhop and valet folks were very polite and on it. I’d made an appointment for a massage out by the pool area and got there a bit early. The scene by the pool was very uh… hip? It made me feel about 20 years older than I should have been to set foot in there, but I had to wait until my therapist, Brick, came to bring me back to the massage cabanas. The security person screening the folks at the entrance to the pool told me to go ahead and kick back on a lawn chair while I waited but there wasn’t any shade and I wasn’t in a bathing suit. The massage was fabulous and will have to become a semi-regular treat.


Photo of L.A. taken from the roof of the Griffith Observatory

The initial purpose of this little get-away was to attend a private viewing (for Friends Of The Observatory) organised by the Griffith Observatory from 3AM to 5AM on the morning of September 1st of the Alpha Aurigid Meteor Shower… though there was no guarantee that the meteors were going to cooperate. We awoke at 2:30am and headed over to the observatory and settled in on the lawn with our tea to watch the sky. We were rewarded with about a half dozen or so meteors (more I’m sure, but these are how many we witnessed ourselves). We were also able to view some of the exhibits inside to observatory, as well as have a peek through the Zeiss telescope. We’ll have to go back soon!

Dinner on Saturday night was enjoyed at our constitutional: Le Clafoutis on Sunset, and preceded by a visit to Meltdown Comics. As always, the food was excellent. Now if only this insane heat would finally break!