1 * 4 * 2000

(I still haven't figured out what to do with the double zeros (does that have an additional E--"zeroes"? I'll have to look it up; I nevah learned the rule.) Anyway, 00 looks odd. Like two blank eyes. While some may like the sound of "double naught," it looks peculiar to me. As does any numeral preceded by only zero. Writing zero-point-zero-something used to drive me mad. (I can tell I've been hanging around T. too much. In my head, I heard the last fragment as "useta drive me mahd." Damn Anglophile.)

Whenever I look over a page I've just written, I think of old letters--not my own, but the sort preserved by museums on yellowed pages with beautiful cursive. What a poor age for letter-writing we're in--that's the story of my penmanship. This thought strikes me all the more so when writing to S., of course--which I haven't done this break and am feeling some guilt over. Maybe I'm too used to people's devotion and don't actually deserve the friends I have.

A. said recently how she kinda envies my horde of men. That devotion to her is often superficial and fleeting. It's an odd statement and one that's hard to react to. Initially, I want to say that she wouldn't value the men of my life as I have. That's certainly true about you. It's hard to say, though. She would have to take over so many of my experiences. I've been thinking about this more so since S. and I had a conversation about how being online pretty drastically changed my personality. A. would have been a lucky girl to have had those reassurances at such a young age. To this day those experiences motivate me: Just open your mouth, a wee voice seems to say, your words, your wit and intelligence have the power to make them overlook whatever physical flaw you're hung up over. In this way, it's easy for me to relate to the power attribute to Morgan le Fay by MZB . I know what it's like to look in the mirror and see myself more beautiful...more stunning, that's a more appropriate word.

I'm sitting outside, drinking a glass of zinfandel , my feet in the wet grass --the trees are making a whirring noise--and I'm thinking about magick . This may all end up just as ramblings, so skim over it if you wish. Also, don't let it be mistaken for preaching, please; this is more like dumping my head onto paper. :> Kinda deep down, in what Jan Ledman taught me to call the lizard brain, I feel the part of me that knows how to sway like these trees. It's this beautiful, loose feeling, not at all uncontrolled-- that's what roots do while the trees dance . And I'm thinking about this, the sensation of the wind and the occasional water droplet on my bare arms and neck--and I was having these same underdeveloped thoughts while reading the first few pages of The Witching Hour. It said something like--The hurt upon losing someone special and when that hurt begins to fade: that's magick . And how even though the jaded amongst us refer to religion as a crutch or opium, that the faith required by religion can also entail a sort of bravery. Sometimes it's bravery, not ignorance, to allow for the unknown or uncontrolled in our lives. Particularly with words as loaded as God or Goddess or witch or magick.

I think of this because R. and I had been talking religion, in a roundabout way. I was told him the story of your bee attack--and I fell just short of saying the Goddess blessed me with cramps that morning. Because with him, it would have stopped the conversation dead. I try not to shelter you like that because my religion is so intertwined with who I am--I know you know this one some level because of our walks into grassy areas--and, more tellingly, spring water in Wales. :) I hope that will always be so. Because my life is much more interesting for magick--not in that "I'm a creepy goth-chick-witch" sorta way, but it keeps me out of a certain adulthood box--to sit here with wet toes and a glowy feeling on my skin and feel like a magickal creature--not like a unicorn ("Not that one, Haggard!")--but an Awareness. It's a moment of sedateness, of clarity--there is a cycle--I'm in it--I have a role--I am in touch and the Goddess is with me. In all this chaos, finding peace and strength...that is magick. There are even crickets.

Okay, I don't think I've said anything too out there. :) I hope you're between sheets and under covers, all generating heat. I miss you.



L,

P.S. Firkin university kids. Cannae even read a damn picture
book without breakin' inta the metaphysics o' it all. :>