Haus der Luege : Noli Evocare Quod Reprimere Non Potes

I’d just finished setting up when an excited fellow in his 60s approached my table. “Are you the artist?!”

“Yup.”

“I had to come & thank you for what you did for me!”

“Excuse me? Did I meet you at the gallery?”

“No, I met you here last year. We talked about Katrina and your husband’s volunteer efforts, and about how it was frustrating that church groups were fixing up Section 8 housing & rentals for people who were just making money off it, rather than living in the homes themselves.

I’ve volunteered and come back to New Orleans four times, and I do my research. I make sure I’m helping homeowners who work on the house with us, who will then live in that house themselves. Thank you for talking to me, for inspiring me to do this. It’s an amazing experience, and it’s made me realize how the world really doesn’t understand what happened here, and how wonderful this city is.”

And he shook my hand and disappeared back into the crowd, and I finally managed to close my mouth, and spent the next hour grinning like a lunatic as tears threatened to burn my eyes.

THIS is why I try to talk to people, to connect, to be positive, even if I’m going through a tough time. The words and attitude we put into the world are sacred, and the smallest gesture from us can cause the most cataclysmic ripple. Perhaps we have some control over the outcome of that ripple if we greet the world with joy and openness rather than fear and suspicion.

I may be so swamped that I might forget on the actual day, so I wanted to wish a happy birthday to ladypoetess -- it's been an honor and a privilege to know you these last years, DotBot.

Almost two weeks ago, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

There were symptoms last spring; I went in for way too many tests and nothing was conclusive until my last MRI in December. That, alas, was.

I'm actually doing pretty well. The toughest part has been telling people; (more)

(Dear NonScheduled Reader--a good deal of the content of this entry is not my writing. It is the so-called "training materials" for a work at home scam. Should you wish to skip their dull prose, my writing is actually in normal font or italics. The "training materials" are in bold.)


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I've just been watching movie after movie, lately, and came to a realization; it's all about the sidekick, baby.

One of my current favorites is Sahara, a lovely romp with ecological and blowy-uppy plot points--not to mention the best windsurfing scene ever. And I am madly in love wi (more)

I just finished watching "The Adventures of Zorro" for the second time in two days. It's a great movie--Antonio Banderas, explosions, Catherine Zeta-Jones, explosions, funny one-liners....explosions....

I have a huge fondness for action adventure movies in which things blow up--it's (more)

So yesterday, I took my jewelry, my tent, and 500 lbs of stuff and drove down to below Boston to attend the St. Jude Highland Games. This was the first time I had actually attended a highland games; it was a small, inexpensive show to do and I had a free weekend, so I figured what the heck, how bad (more)

My dear nonscheduled readers, I have a perfect example at 4:24 am to offer up to you--of hospitality and grace.

Please excuse if mine slips, but if I have to be awake at fucking ohdarkhundred, I might as well make use of the time.

I have a friend. She's not a lawyer but she's (more)

I have an admission to make, dear NonScheduled Reader. I am awfully arrogant.

I like to think of myself as a nonpartisan, so-liberal-I-practically-don't-have-a-pulse, damnYankee practical person.

But. In point of fact, since I started following a pagan path, (actually, since I (more)

When I was 21, I went to see Arlo Guthrie for the first time.

That was a while ago. Kethrai at 21 was a very uptight young woman. She had reason to be; working hard at college, taking care of a boyfriend who preferred sympathy and money from others instead of medication for his clinical depr (more)

Sixteen years ago, I was working a crappy little job in a crappy little store and living in a crappy little apartment and was rapidly approaching the point where I needed a reason to get up in the morning.

So when a friend at the crappy little job had terrible news; family getting foreclosed (more)

I just got attacked by a case of the holiday hate.

I always loved Christmas. I love getting and giving gifts, I like cheerful decorations, I could even stand the Christmas carols. Even post the conversion to paganism, I still loved the holidays; it was a fun time of year.

But.

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