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In times of old, The Furies protected Mother Right. If a mother (or any woman) was harmed, The Furies swooped down and took their vengeance. They were one of the last vestiges of a world that existed before the patriarchy. When we feel righteous anger, it is The Furies who are calling out to us to make what is wrong right again.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Holy Faith
But before that...
Finally got out of the smoke. Started to relax as we drove toward Moab. Big country. Islands of huge rocks.

I don't really have the words right now to describe how beautiful it all was. I lay my body down on the rock. Saw the biggest rainbow I've ever seen in my life, coming up out of these rock spires. It got dark and began to pouring down pissing down rain. Barbara said I had chanted up a big storm. We were on these windy narrow roads and we could barely see. It was quite tense for about an hour. Barbara drove while I encouraged her. We finally arrived at our B&B in Moab around 8:00 p.m. In the morning, I stepped outside into the misty rain and watched the clouds rise, like a foggy curtain, to reveal gorgeous red cliffs.
Then we headed for Santa Fe. Dipped into Colorado. Listened to the Power of Now again. Gotta learn to be in the now, baby. One of these days. They're having some kind of celebration in Santa Fe this weekend. Police were everywhere. I'll tell you later (if I remember) about my discussion with the police about this massive presence. The plaza was filled with people, dancers, music, booths. Lots of fun. We ate at the India Palace off Don Gaspar, a restaurant Mario and I always eat at while we're here. It was great fun. We could hardly believe we're actually here.
We dipped into the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum. Just a peek. Tomorrow I shall go sit and watch. Yes, watch. The paintings. The museum closes Monday for a couple of weeks, so I need to get in there soon.
It's cloudy and rainy, did I say? New Mexico looks very different when it's not sunny. It's amazing, the difference. When the sun comes out, everything pops: a strange kind of metamorphosis, as if it was all asleep and now it's awake and wearing all the best colors.
We're staying at a kind of conference retreat center. Religious in nature. I didn't know that when I made the reservation. I just wanted a place that didn't use pesticides. But it's fine.
A picture of San Antonio is above the bed. (Is the light showing us the heart of the matter?) My room number is B10. That means something, but I'm not sure what. The portrait of San Antonio appears so calm and...monkish, doesn't it? You'd think our room was neat and tidy.

It's all a matter of perspective. By the way, can you guess which bed is mine and which is Barbara's?


Here's Barbara talking to her sweetie in the lobby.

Me taking a self-portrait while she talks to her sweetie.

Nothing profound tonight since I'm grubby and rather senseless.
My sweetheart sent me another poem today. I love his poems and miss them. And now every day he's writing one just for me. Nice.
More later.
Sweet dreams. 3 comments
3 Comments:
Kim, you sound happy to be in New Mexico, although you are missing Mario. Oh to have a personal bard who sends one poetry every day. The first bedroom (the one with the laptop) is yours? Love, hugs and BB, Cate
By kerrdelune, at 4:50 AM
Wow, beautiful Moab. Amazing. Hope to spend some time there one day - until then, thanks for the vicarious visit! A poem a day, how perfect of Mario, how perfect for a rain goddess.
By Theriomorph, at 8:06 AM
Seeing your exquisite photo of the red rock islands makes me hungry for that part of the world! It's been a long time since I've set foot in the Southwest rather than simply taking a train through it. I think you've planted a seed, dear Kim. BTW is your retreat center wheelchair-accessible?
You sound great. What a perfect journey to take right now. Just what the doctor ordered, I'd say.
Senidng lots of love
Patricia
