is this real? does it matter?

- well, crap, the picture i really wish to display here won't upload! -- so here's a link to similar images: undulus asperatus ... they ARE real! amazing! check these out: even more seemingly-fantastic! undulating beautiful seemingly-fantastic but completely real cloud images
- today i finally got over to the MOLAA (museum of latin american art) in long beach, which has free admission on sundays. wow! what a great museum! (here's the website) on the walls surrounding the artwork were many whimsical, thought-provoking quotes about reality vs imagination/fantasy. that combined w/quotes i read today from rabindranath tagore have got my brain plonking a bit... at the dollar store yesterday, i bought a calendar that had a quote from tagore on cover. it seemed somewhat slangy/maybe anachronistic, so, thought i, hmmm: more internet bs mis-attribution, perhaps? then i read up on tagore a bit (thank you, wikipedia!) & learned he became known for bringing the colloquial to bengali poetry, & on www.etymonline.com that "terrific," the word that called me to question the quote's veracity, came into its current meaning around 1888, dead in the middle of tagore's writing career. all very interesting! here is some spiritually pleasing & lovely mental food from RT: quotes
- i'm trying to upload the museum pix to my laptop, & if i succeed, i'll plop some here. meantime, hope you enjoy the cloud images & tagore quotes.
- in more mundane news, today's events included two meetings, two restaurant meals, no exercise... implict in all of this is much love, i hope is apparent. happy almost-new year!

"in a relationship"... mush alert ahead (you've been warned) (sing five royales' "i'm with you"):

it now is facebook-official. i would analyze that more, but just don't want to. brain was on fire last night, in despair yesterday, 'cause despite this beautiful, unprecedented, scary (what if something happens to him?) time in my life, i still have a mood disorder, but this time the storm was weathered pretty quickly, & he gave me important reassurance, ballasting my capsizing ship like he, my hero, does... oh, to be comforted by & connected w/an understanding human being: what a gift. i no longer need to manipulate, cajole, & turn wild hopeless helpless demon in futile attempts to be recognized as existing... it's time to jettison those old behaviors, no longer necessary. in fact, they hurt him, i'm realizing, because he loves me.
wow. what an amazing statement. someone truly loves me... & shows it! i must be better, more thoughtful, less selfish... i must not hurt him w/old behaviors, pay better attn to my actions. we are fervently, productively in love, growing & growing up & getting better together every single time we interact. i am just flummoxed. as he wrote me, "isn't it just the best feeling in the world?!?!" yes, it is. this is love, baby, not confusion. i must rise to a new standard, be worthy of this blessing, astounding & unexpected. i must protect it, & him; he protects me all the time, i'm realizing, just by being wise & kind & understanding (& willing to "beat the sh*t" out of anyone who hurts my feelings in the least...). people who love one another take care of each other, have each others' best interests in mind, want happiness & health & all things good for their beloved, don't try to control, don't behave in a scary manner... (sing love boat theme) ... again, wow.
has this been enough mush? what can i say? this is my blablablog, & nothing could be more important to blablabla about than this!
these poems are for him, but also for you:

Oh! Love Bird (Love Song) (Kim Robin Edwards)
Oh! Love bird, don't fly away.
Spread your wings, and come my way.
Fly high, don't ever cry.
You will see. You'll soon be mine.
Oh! Love bird, don't leave my side.
Stay with me through out the night.
Oh! Love bird, next to me.
Love bird that's where you'll be.
Whistling a melody.
With me along, a symphony.
Oh! Love bird, don't be shy.
With me along, you'll never cry.
Soaring through out the sky.
Oh! Love bird, I'm by your side.
Oh! Love bird, don't sail away.
There will be another day.
For you and me to live our lives.
We'll sail across, the deep blue skies.
Oh! Love bird, don't fly away.
Oh! Love bird, why don't you stay?

(Rumi)
A moment of happiness,
you and I sitting on the verandah,
apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.
We feel the flowing water of life here,
you and I, with the garden's beauty
and the birds singing.
The stars will be watching us,
and we will show them
what it is to be a thin crescent moon.
You and I unselfed, will be together,
indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.
The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar
as we laugh together, you and I.
In one form upon this earth,
and in another form in a timeless sweet land.

your blinded hand (tennessee williams)

Suppose that
everything that greens and grows
should blacken in one moment, flower and branch.
I think that I would find your blinded hand.
Suppose that your cry and mine were lost among numberless cries
in a city of fire when the earth is afire,
I must still believe that somehow I would find your blinded hand.
Through flames everywhere
consuming earth and air
I must believe that somehow, if only one moment were offered,
I would
find your hand.
I know as, of course, you know
the immeasurable wilderness that would exist
in the moment of fire.
But I would hear your cry and you’d hear mine and each of us
would find
the other’s hand.
We know
that it might not be so.
But for this quiet moment, if only for this
moment,
And against all reason,
let us believe, and believe in our hearts,
that somehow it would be so.
I’d hear your cry, you mine –

And each of us would find a blinded hand.

"corruptio optimi est pessima" & cry, cry, cry

the quote refers to the fall of lucifer, who, you might know, was the most beloved angel. warned 2 yrs ago by the above message given to me in an art-egg by a bright but emotionally damaged person to whom i was drawn, gypsy-moth-like, i ignored wise mind & plowed ahead selfishly. after my disrespectful visit before marie laveau's shrine in NOLA, the curse was on... yes, it sounds melodramatic, superstitious, etc, but must resort to magic, drama, fantasy to make it thru this latest blackness.
this, too, shall pass.
below is the way i almost always am when not wrapped up with "love": happy, joyful, connected, creative, grateful. wish i could erase my memory & stand here, free & new & clean... again, as it did when i went thru the hell of divorce from my kind ex, the poem looms: "the unknown god... is breaking me down to his own oblivion to send me forth on a new morning, a new [wo]man." (d.h. lawrence) ironic - the brilliant person mentioned above gave me the quote, to reassure me.

thank the good, good universe for the love & gift of music, which has the charms to soothe the "bestiam feram," the beast within that wants a soul dead. now i'm thinking of that throw rag song "the beast in me"... may you avoid the beast today & all days & be wiser than am i in matters of le cœur... theme for tonight: the stooges' "your pretty face is going to h*ll"...

"and my heart soars"

this is how i feel today.
no foolin. it's foreign, therefore slightly scary, tho calmly so... the top or at least heretofore most active layer of my mind, where the craziness, mania, jumpiness, hahaha, go go go, cry cry cry, fight fight fight, & – i fear – creativity resides, is gone for now. i am placid as a lake, a soft-boiled egg, a sleeping cat, my soft soft bed, the billowing, ever-drifting, sighing sea of clouds that fill the sky before me as i type at this amazing picture window, this green, expansive setting of trees & mountains & birds & nature & respite &, 5 miles away tho visible by way of a happy combination of elevation & view, trucks & cars traveling & twinkling along i-5... detached, not worrying, breathing deeply... is this serenity? how long will it last? for now, it's here – may you have it, too. a poem:
“the beauty of the trees, the softness of the air, the fragrance of the grass speaks to me.
"the summit of the mountain, the thunder of the sky, the rhythm of the sea, speaks to me.
"the faintness of the stars, the freshness of the morning, the dewdrop on the flower, speaks to me.
"the strength of the fire, the taste of salmon, the trail of the sun, and the life that never goes away, they speak to me
"and my heart soars.” (chief dan george)
if you were happy to read that, i highly recommend this: earth prayers from around the world ps - just realized this sense of peace might be due to having weed-eated (weed-ate?) the yard for 2 1/2 hrs (i have a big yard)... might just be too pooped right now to be a squirrel.
whatever the cause, i'll take it! :) feliz dia, queridos! :)

shadows, d.h. lawrence

r.i.p. to heather & peace to all of her loved ones.

and if tonight my soul may find her peace
in sleep, and sink in good oblivion,
and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower
then I have been dipped again in God, and new-created.

and if, as weeks go round, in the dark of the moon
my spirit darkens and goes out, and soft strange gloom
pervades my movements and my thoughts and words
then I shall know that I am walking still
with God, we are close together now the moon’s in shadow.

and if, as autumn deepens and darkens
I feel the pain of falling leaves, and stems that break in storms
and trouble and dissolution and distress
and then the softness of deep shadows folding,
folding around my soul and spirit, around my lips
so sweet, like a swoon, or more like the drowse of a low, sad song
singing darker than the nightingale, on, on to the solstice
and the silence of short days, the silence of the year, the shadow,
then I shall know that my life is moving still
with the dark earth, and drenched
with the deep oblivion of earth’s lapse and renewal.

and if, in the changing phases of man’s life
I fall in sickness and in misery
my wrists seem broken and my heart seems dead
and strength is gone, and my life
is only the leavings of a life:

and still, among it all, snatches of lovely oblivion, and snatches of renewal
odd, wintry flowers upon the withered stem, yet new, strange flowers
such as my life has not brought forth before, new blossoms of me

then I must know that still
I am in the hands of the unknown God,
he is breaking me down to his own oblivion
to send me forth on a new morning, a new man.