Art of Seeking

developments across the board

If my life gets any more interesting, I’ll be a great case study soon. But until then, I’m rather enjoying the oddness.

First, I’ve found out that my intermediate belly dance class will be performing in the first two weeks of March. The choreography is awesome, and the music is everything I’d hoped for. It starts out sounding really tribal, then this heavy bass kicks in… hell yeah. My teacher Natalie is a sweetheart AND a good teacher. Very patient.

Then, there’s the explanation for this picture:

(That’s me in my funny hat on the djembe and Matt on didgeridoo, Angela on violin, Glen on djembe/ banjo, and that one guy I just met on doumbek and effects pedals. No, the drum set wasn’t played and I have no idea what the skillet is for.)  Matt and I were asked if we wanted to perform with our friend’s band, Delphi Quorum, on Feb. 5. Sure, why not, an excuse to play music is an excuse to play music. This is an…. interesting musical experiment- some guy is using effects pedals (including a loop) on some odd sounding vocals and Matt’s didgeridoo. Then there’s a few djembes (including mine) and my Remo klong yaw that Matt is pretty good at using as a “talking drum” because it’s so out of tune.. I guess you have to hear it and know a little about tuning drums to understand why. But anyway, there’s a banjo and a violin as well. Yeah. Experimental. It’s fun, but I’m sure plenty of folks might see it is strange or just plain creepy.

So, I was at my acupuncture appointment getting jabbed when for some reason, in a conversation between me and Brent and Allie, it was mentioned that Brent knows an Incan Shaman. I’m about to start writing a research paper on medicines and hallucinogens in the ancient Andes, so it seemed quite serendipitous. He hasn’t seen her for a bit but says he’ll look her up for me. Meanwhile, I’m also doing a research paper on NAGPRA, and Ana just revealed to me that her best friend’s father is a Lakota Shaman. Perfect. And weird. But cool… I’ll be attempting to set up some interviews soon.

Meanwhile…

I’ll be doing a photo shoot this Sunday with a few models. It will hopefully involve a collection of antique tools, really colorful clothing, railroad tracks, possibly a raccoon skin coat, and a crumbling silo. Sounds like fun to me.

If you’re not calling your favorite legal drug dealer (i.e. psychiatrist) for some Prozac on my behalf yet, it’s only because you know me well enough. I guess. Thanks.

I’m making some Pozole and hoping the damn hominy is done before the cornbread is. I need to get to sleep soon… long day tomorrow…

Oh, yeah. The top picture is my friend and tattoo artist Randal, playing a variation of chess invented by our friend Kurray and some other guys. Possibly including Randal. Matt helped make the board a couple years ago. The board they’re playing on has elevated squares in a roughly pyramid shape, and the corners are decorated each with tropical island, Antarctic, desert, and jungle scenes. No idea how it’s played. I always lose chess. And Hearts. And Gin. And… well, everything but scrabble and connect four.

Back to the “grind…”

old dreams new

It’s late at night on a far- away shore. The moonlight is so strong that flashlights aren’t necessary. I’m not alone- I’m talking to others around me, but I don’t know who they are.
Talking about the stones we’re walking on.

They are black- volcanic, I think. But they aren’t just stones, they are ruins. There is something important here, I can feel it.

The tide is coming in, the waves are crashing. Then, I see it. Something that looks like carving in the stone.

I call the others over. We all begin to examine the stones. Then, for some reason I don’t know, I look up.

A huge, flat, rectangle stone is on the ground. It looks to me like a door. I walk toward it, I walk on it. The waves are crashing louder.

Someone is standing in front of me, a man. An authority. He’s saying we need to go, but we’ll return.

But I don’t want to go. I feel there’s something here I need to know…

I woke from this dream many years ago.
Then today, in class, it all came flooding back to me when Dr. Haagen Klaus showed us pictures of Peru.

And there it was- the rocks, the beach, the flat stone, everything. Ruins soon to be excavated. The only difference was, the picture had been taken during the day.

I talked to him after class about going to Peru, but the next two excavations are full. However, he said he can help me study those ruins for my Master’s.

Literally, a dream come true. I can’t wait.

(*NOTE: I did my best to find stones in my picture archives that look like the ones in my dream, but this was as close as I got. The stones in my dream were all black.)

Education vs. Religion, assumption

I’m getting a bit irritated with the public education system here in Utah.
Arielle told me yesterday, “The teacher said ‘we’re going to learn about facts, so we’re not going to go over contraception.’ “
OK, I could understand if he’d just said that it wasn’t in the school’s policy to tech about contraception, but to straight up say that contraception is fiction?! What the hell!!
He then proceeded to teach that smoking marijuana can cause cancer and pneumonia. Now THAT’s fiction. I’m sure smoking weed couldn’t possibly make pneumonia (or any lung ailment) better, but I’ve never heard of weed causing any disease. There were some studies on weed possibly causing cancer, but they were inconclusive. I can dig through all my psychology textbooks again right now and guarantee there won’t be a damn thing in there about weed and pneumonia.
Ana asked me a few weeks ago, “Mom, is it true that in the Civil War, they weren’t allowed to shoot the flag bearer? ‘Cause my teacher said whoever’s side won was the side whose flag was still up, and they couldn’t shoot the flag bearer.”
WRONG. The side with the most people still standing and not either splattered all over the ground or running the hell out of there was the winner, and the flag bearer always died first. Keeping the flag intact was a bonus, but it wasn’t usually possible. On a battlefield choked with the smoke of black powder, the other team’s flag was pretty much all that was visible, so being the flag bearer pretty much meant you were going to die. In one particular battle (Chatanooga, I think? Correct me if I’m wrong), the Union side went through 12 flag bearers in the space of about 20 minutes. I can understand a teacher being a bit confused, but hell, when you’re confused, don’t you usually say “I’m not sure, let me get back to you on that?” Don’t you NOT make up something that just sounds good?
How much do we really know about what they’re teaching in schools these days? I remember being taught in grade school that men have one less rib than women. This based on the assumption that God removed Adam’s rib to create woman. Bullshit, of course. We all have the same amount of ribs. If you want to tell if a skeleton is male or female, you’re going to have to look at the pelvic bone.
My kids would get a better education if they weren’t forced to go to public schools. Kudos to my sister for home schooling her kids- I just wish I had the patience to do it myself. I’m very easily flustered. I’m also in school full time, myself. So we just have these discussions at home, and I end up feeling like storming into the school and demanding to talk to the folks who think that teaching kids what they THINK they should believe instead of what the actual truth is, is somehow acceptable.