Earth is black with secret red
Flowing with dark molten iron
A pulsing of the heartbeat's blood;

Heaven, black with shining gems
Flower-strewn and rainbow-prismed,
Velvet depths in endless flood;

The silver-twining open road
From ferrous heart to shadow's sun -
The partner to the kiss of worlds,
A lover's breath, a dance begun.
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Today, I am a kitten with a ball of sky-blue yarn who wants to pounce on [livejournal.com profile] loveandpower's toes.

I may need to watch 2001 again; I suddenly wonder if it might make sense this time.

Also, hearing Rumi can give me tremendous chills.
kiya: (dragonfly)
( Jun. 30th, 2008 06:20 pm)
There's a lot of stuff in my head, so I'm just going to natter on a bit, honestly.

Pointilistic overview of the weekend. )
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A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I was a physics/astronomy major.

And therein lies a tail. )
I saw the boy who lives in the mirror last night.

I had just gotten out of the shower -- I had been rinsing the dye out of my hair -- and my hair was pulled back and slicked, and the towel was wrapped tightly around my chest, and we spent a little bit staring at each other.

He looks more like my brother than I do. A little darker, a little more angular in the jaw, the sideburns a little thinner and fluffier, but I can see the facial structure around his eyes and recognise those cheekbones, the thick, bushy eyebrows, the underlying bone structure there.

He looked a little spooked to have been seen, as if I had exposed him unexpectedly, caught him with his pants down. Eventually we got used to each other, familiarised ourselves with our respective twin on the other side of the mirror.

I wonder if I go in there, if he'll be there, or if I'll just see me.


[ Please be advised that I did not select the music for this. It is, in fact, what started playing just as I started writing. ]

I was going to write dream notes, but I've lost them, alas. All I remember clearly is [livejournal.com profile] shaddragon pointing out that there was a supernova event visible to the naked eye on/in the world we were in at the time ... Well, that and a lot of near-identically named ninjas.
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kiya: (feri)
( Mar. 30th, 2007 01:06 am)
Trying to assemble my stuff for the last training weekend with [livejournal.com profile] yezida. I am sort of in a mental tangle; I'm not sure where I want to pursue the Feri work beyond this point, aside from 'take another while to assimilate because it appears to take me about a year to process through each quarter and I'm running behind' and 'chase lore'. Been reading bits of Thorns of the Blood Rose and contemplating; need to get more focused.

I have made one hell of a lot of pizza. Looking forward to trying the walnut-feta one.

Just ... too much stuff in my head. This has been an awfully weird, rough quarter, and good, and ... complicated. I kind of want to ruminate philosophically about it, but I don't really have anything articulate enough to do so. It's all in the Tomb of Birth, keeping silent.

I faced some demons this quarter that I've been running from all my life, and when I wrestled them at the ford, they turned out to be an angel, and gave me a blessing. I've wrestled with depression one whole hell of a lot, and the mud at that particular ford is slippery, but I know I've still got fight in me. I've poked and prodded at bits of inner strength (and had some fascinating Pentacle-related thoughts).

I joked, two years ago, that some people hit their Saturn return and go to grad school, or go on a six-month vacation, or have a nervous breakdown, or something, and I went into Feri training. I look at where I am now compared to where I was then, and ... I don't know if I achieved what I set out to do, really. I don't know if I'm any more together. I know I'm happier and stronger, at least, which is better, but I don't have much clearer sense of direction.

But perhaps I've got plenty of sense of direction already.

There are images in my head that I can't figure out how to write down. Not just the poem I've been wrestling with about fire and desire, but ...

... there's that place in the outer dark, not the lonely void, but my-god-it's-full-of-stars. That's where my head's at a lot these days, and why I've been so damn quiet. My god, my god, She's full of stars.
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... where I suddenly connect up BDSM theory and witchcraft theory:

"My commitment to align my will can only be worth as much as my will."



Meanwhile, I spilled about a third of a allon of milk in the kitchen, which makes me cranky.


... man, I missed having this song ...

"Check it in, check it out, making love I like watching all your fireworks ... I like it when I light those stars in your eyes ..."
Today I'm thinking that it takes guts to go out and be beautiful in public.

It's much safer to keep the beauty tucked away in the private nooks, only bringing it out to show a few trusted people, if anyone is allowed to see it at all. It's easy to lose it, forget it, misplace it in the corners of the mind.

When I dare to be beautiful, I am exposed: my reality is presented where others might see it, and those others might dismiss it, ignore it, miss it entirely. If I never show it, it can never be rejected.

But there is abundance, there is bounty; this is not a universe of scarcity. I cannot afford to be a miser and hoard away precious things in solitude; I learn to show beauty in private places, to safe people who will not treat it with contempt. I grow, I step forward, I allow myself to be beautiful in moments, in little instants, fleeting eyeblinks. Perhaps someday I will have the guts to be beautiful all the time.

And then I will shake my tail and fill the seven heavens with my thunder.
In various levels of sketchy detail, really.

Progressing from hot to wet .... )
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kiya: (feri)
( Jan. 2nd, 2006 02:05 am)
Whoa whoa whoa.

Thingy.

I need to read Musashi now.

And make a Djehwty shrine.
    Well, I see the ones who crawl like moles
    Who for a front would trade their souls,
    A broken mirror's the only hole for them;
    And for you who'd exchange yourselves,
    Just to be somebody else,
    Pretending things you never felt or meant;
    Hey, you don't live what you defend,
    You can't give so you just bend.


(This entry may contain sex, pride, self, power, passion, love, law, knowledge, liberty, and/or wisdom. It may also make no damn sense. Caveat lector. Purchase not refundable without receipt. Offer not valid in some states of mind.)
Pondering the Black Heart of Innocence just a little )

Yeah, so that's a chunk of what's on my mind these days.
This is exceedingly free-associational and I'm not including half the context.

Iron Pentacle: Contains Sex, Rock and Roll, no Drugs )

Meanwhile, in random accidental divination moments, I was cleaning up and picked up my book of Rumi poetry and opened it to a page that said:

    In your light I learn how to love.
    In your beauty, how to make poems.

    You dance inside my chest,
    where no one sees you,

    but sometimes I do,
    and that sight becomes this art.


Hello, Black Heart.
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[livejournal.com profile] laurelinde: since we didn't manage to hook up when I was down in Maryland, I hope this will give you some fill-in on what we did. Please ask me to expand on things if you need it.

Prelude: There is no Hell, for God extinguished its flames with His tears )

The weekend itself )
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