Angi in Wonderland

I really didn't like third grade, but sometimes, for just a brief moment, I wish I was back there. For no other reason than to hear someone ask me around a crowded dinner table, "So, Angi, what did you do today?" If someone asked me that right now, the answer would sound something like this: "I played with sequined octopi, high-heeled teapots and drag queen poodles. I pushed around boxes of umbrella-wielding frogs and courted royal mice, resplendent in crowns and scepters. I danced with faeries, cavorted with jesters then had tea with Alice." No one would believe me, but indeed, that's exactly what happened in the Duirwaigh storage facility today. In fact, for the past several days I've been sorting through the madness as we prepare our business, our home and our lives for a cross-country move. Now I have no idea when in the next year that move will come, but we're preparing the way. I'll tell you right now I'm a fiendish collector of all things Wonderland. Well, not just Wonderland. I'm a collector of all things wondrous--anything that transports me Otherwhere. My collecting got so wild I had to share it with others. So not only did I grow my own collection,  but adopted a rather huge menagerie of enchanted objects and wonderments for sale through the Duirwaigh circus. Soon my passion outmaneuvered my space and so...it would take nothing short of an "I think I can" train to move all the paraphenalia.  I've decided some of these goodies would rather have new homes than to be closed up in dark boxes and transported across the country to, perhaps, yet another storage facility where they won't see the light of day.

And so. A sale. Stay tuned. Meanwhile I have cello-playing grasshoppers to attend to.

The Photograph

I belong to Sunday Scribblings, a writer's group online that gathers once a week to free-write on a suggested topic. This week, the topic is The Photograph. I've already contributed this piece on the topic, but could not stop there, as I am a photographer and simply have too many significant ones to choose from. I can hardly believe I narrowed it down to two pieces. So here's my second entry:

I've been posing for the camera most of my life. And I do mean posing. As a student of All Things Beautiful, I studied my best sides, my most favored angles and learned to avoid having my photo taken when I could not offer one or the other. But one day last summer, a sudden storm blew through Taos, bringing an unexpected wind. Silas grabbed the camera, pulled me outside and started snapping the shutter click click click as I moved around the sagebrush. His fingers were working too quick and the wind was dancing to wildly for any kind of posing. So I just turned this way and that, letting the wind become my partner in some strange rain dance.

There was a moment the wind kicked my skirt up, I mean WAY up, Moulin-Rouge-knicker-twist-show-the-boys-a-good-time-over- the-head UP and somewhere between the sudden surprise and the instant reflex to cover myself the shutter went click click click. And it captured something...rare.

Not a pose. Not even a moment. More like an essence.

Let me explain.

I've been a student of Self Love since 1999. Recovering from a botched surgery and paralysis, I began studying the realms of Soul, dipping my palms into the river of books and tapes that cite love as a means of healing. Deep love, wellspring love, the kind drawn only from an internal well.  Of course I tried the exercises: journaling, affirmations, mirror-talk. While journaling and affirmations came somewhat easily (although sporadically) to me, I didn't fare so well with the mirror. I tried looking in the glass saying "I love you" and though I truly meant it, something in me would cringe and shrink from the image in the mirror, resisting.

The years have passed. I have learned and loved. But not until this day, as Silas and I downloaded the Canon's digital film onto the Mac, was I able to see the result of so many years of effort materialized. Gazing at that photo, it was if I was looking in a mirror and there was no cringing, no shrinking. I'd been captured, the essence of me digitized for the viewing eye. Unposed, unpolished, raw. And I knew right then and there: all the healing work I'd done, all the attempts at self-love, struggling to unfetter the past and unhinge the future, was over. For there she was, in total abandon, unchecked, unmonitored, free.  And she was fierce. Alive. Colorful. Big. Unabashed. Mouth wide open in raucous laughter, goofy expression turning eyes to slits and nostrils to pig snout. Unflattered but unafraid.

And she is joy. And she is loved.

I kissed the Prince

I just had to post this girl. Ain't she cute? Mernie gave her to me as an anniversary present. LOVE HER! (Mernie and the Kissing Queen). Silas and I have been together five years this April. Ahhh, April. The month of fools. How appropriate. I kissed the foolish prince five years ago and he turned into a wise frog. Which only seems right, as I'm a huge fan of Kermit (as well as the color green) and have never been afraid of warts.

Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jig

So here we are in beautiful downtown Kennesaw (that's not a Blow-Pop in my mouth, but a tongue in my cheek). We arrived on Sunday, chihuahuas, flowers and potted plants in tow. You see, two days before we left I found the most glorious daffodils, tulips and tiger lilies while we were at the grocery store buying goodies for our trip. Of course I had to have them then and there. "I'll just practice Letting Go when we need to leave, and let them wither while I'm away," I foolishly thought. But while we scurried around the house packing up for the trip, I couldn't bear to leave them behind. So. Indeed. I prepared a few cardboard boxes and packed the bouquets up, vases and all. They made the trip and are now sitting in our Duirwaigh home, lighting up the living room.

Happy flowers at home:

Flowers delighted to be making the journey:

Ecstatic flowers bursting with glee in their new home:

Oh yeah, and my potted plants. Well, you couldn't exactly expect me to leave them by themselves could you? OK, I'm not THAT far gone, but...Hannah. It's all Hannah's fault. She's my Taos neighbor and my indulgent plant-sitter while I'm away from Casa Elegre, but she's currently out of town herself. So was I going to leave all my plants in my house for two weeks with no water? After seeing all of them through the harsh, dim-lit weeks of winter? In a word, HELLNO.

So here we are. Together for two weeks. We started the reunion off the typical way: champagne, dancing, balloons and a trip to the nail salon. What party is complete without Big Top polka dots?

Riddleville

A recap for those of you interested in our riddle-game:

Clue #1 - That's me getting in my 4runner, Cheshire Cat floorboards dusted with snow. So yes, we already have something happening that is at least car (or cat?) related.

Clue #2 - Pups in the backseat. Another sign of a road trip. (Not that they don't accompany me every day to every place I go, but who would know that besides me?) Dude, and don't you just melt at those faces? I am a danger on the road, always tempted to look in my rear view mirror at them rather than the road! Who wouldn't?

Clue #3 - This I thought was a particular stroke of genius. (If I do say so myself!) Texas is the first state we cross into after leaving Taos. Didn't plan on seeing Czech girls or eating bratwurst, but there was no getting around Texas!

Clue #4 - Another famous road trip. I could have used Thelma and Louise, but thought better than to load images in my mind (or on this blog) of road trips ending in catastrophe at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. No matter how much I like road trips with redheads in convertibles, I refuse to end up as desperate housewife roadkill.

Clue #5 - Though I'm apt to order Starbuck's anytime, they don't exist in Taos. (They're still holding out against corporate giants, though they caved in for Walmart...) So a Starbucks sign certainly signifies a road trip. Especially a drive thru.

Clue #6 - When driving from Taos to Atlanta, the state directly after Texas is Oklahoma! A long stretch of highway, so best to bring your musical soundtracks along to pass the time.

Clue #7 - This image signifies a celebration is on the way. Not only do champagne bottles typically signify a happy event, but in the Duirwaigh family, EVERY happy event is celebrated with champagne. And happy events most certainly include things like breathing, blinking, toe-wiggling, and being together.

Clue #8 - What's a road trip without a little HUMOR? Pah-lease. But all in all, it's still a fairly decent clue, being a road sign and all...

Clue #9 - Third state to cross when driving Interstate 40 from Taos to Atlanta is Arkansas, home to little rocks and ex-presidents. Though Clinton spends more time in Harlem than in his home state. What is THAT about?

Clue #10 - Another clue indicative of a road trip headed south. They don't have waffle house out west. Not only that, but if you happen to be driving through the deep south late at night and don't want McDonald's, Waffle House is likely to be your only option.

Clue #11 - A wall of Tennessee license plates. Yup, it's the fourth state on our cross country excursion and a looong one at that. By now we're itching to get out of the car, to get to our destination or at least to get somewhere to take a decent shower and sleep on a bed that's not a rock!

Clue #12 - A giveaway, really. This is a Doorway. A Duirwaigh. DUH! Heading to Atlanta/Kennesaw means we're heading to the Duirwaigh offices to play with the Duirwaigh team and to play in the magical realms that exist beyond the Duir!

Clue #13 - Me celebrating with balloons. A photo taken in our home office in Kennesaw.  Another dead giveaway that a celebration is on its way!

Clue #14 - Last state line to cross over! And you know by now we're feeling a lot like this plump, fuzzy fruit! Happy, snappy and a little peachy keen to finally be in our destination state! Or have we entered a state of destiny-ation? Whatever, we're happy and by now it's obvious we're in a car, headed for our beloved Duirwaigh crew!

So Kimmie figured out the riddle by clue six and called Mernie who promptly told her that I'd have to be roped and hog-tied to drive all the way back to Kennesaw. However, they figured it out along the way, for when we pulled in the driveway and walked up the front steps, this masterpiece was taped to the door (you have to click on it to see it in its full splendor):

Since arriving, I've witnessed the birth of four baby sparrows, the budding of fresh, pink blossoms on Mernie's cherry trees outside, the arrival of a huge buzzard in the front yard (attracted by the possum who tried to cross the road but...nevermind) and a circus that's come to town to take up residency on my toes. But that's for another post!