Directions by moonlight

I'm amused by any word ending in ion. Comprehension. Relation. Communication. Expression. Direction. And it's only fitting that as a cat woman I'm a fan of cations though I'm aware anions are necessary. Universal balance and all that chemical jazz.

Direction. Upon seeing the postcard I referred to in my last post in full lighting rather than ambient, next to the hummingbird, imprinted were words detailing the energies of the 4 directions:

South - shed your past
West - learn to walk with your shadow
North - Savor the sweetness of living
East - fulfill your destiny

While aware of directional guardians per indigenous belief, (hawks, crows, eagles and owls), I don't think I ever came across the sacred directions defined in such a simple way.

Which led me to wonder...aside from being born with a plethora of energy that's naturally comfortable with the underworld, did I also grow up learning to walk with my shadow being raised out west? Or is west my 0 point and thus any travel in any direction from this point only then harnesses the energies associated with each? Either way, with these directional "definitions" in mind it's interesting to replay my various travels and moves.

Driving southwest from NY I most certainly was shedding and purging. Moving once again and driving north from LA to SF I for sure am savoring the sweetness of living. The interesting thing is that the entire time I was in NY it felt as though I was hardcore learning to walk with my shadow. Perhaps that was a major player in fulfilling my destiny?

I can't be sure at this point though since moving back to SF I've felt far more of a kinship with the sun, while in NY I couldn't help but be obsessed by the moon. On my day off earlier this week I had the urge to replace my moonstone ring. The stone came loose from the setting in LA and they've been separated ever since, sharing a drawer in my jewelry box. At the same store my initial ring came from, I searched the shelves for something similar. I didn't quite understand the moonstone obsession I was feeling (still don't) but it was just something I had to do. Among every single ring in the store, the only one I fell in love with was this.



Something about it just felt right and after all this musing on directions and shadows it seems to make sense. I've finally learned to own my moon; own my shadows.

Sonoluminescence

While sound is always relevant in any beings life, it's seemed to step to the forefront of my sensual experience in recent years and become oh so strong in recent months. Or perhaps it's just that I've learned to listen with my eyes too?

A few days ago I was fed some graphic image on Facebook detailing sonoluminescence which as synchronicity would have it, is characterized by an equation attributed to Lord Rayleigh who continuously pops up in my world. He's one of my favorite spirit animals. Anyhow, sonoluminescence is pretty much seeing sound. The burst of light seen only occurs because it's caused by sound.

A few weeks ago I attended a shamanic circle and in between journeys a postcard somehow ended up on the couch I was lying on. In the dim ambient lighting I was able to make out a hummingbird. They've been visiting me ever since landing in LA and actually, to be more precise I traveled across the country with one in human form. Now in SF, they've continued to visit periodically. After one of the journeys, we shared in groups of 3 and one of my trio recounted how his clan had dressed him like a samurai and showed him proper posturing, telling him he needs to begin presenting himself to the world in this manner. I shared how generally in my visions I only see faces and while I greet each animals I meet whether in waking life or the astral realm, I rarely recall actually conversing with them in a vocal manner. The man who shared his samurai vision suggested I ask "may I see all of you?" and that I vocally converse with them.

The next morning I had my coffee outside before getting ready for work and a hummingbird joined me. I greeted him, said good morning and asked if I could get closer and see all of him. With 2 feet between us he began to chirp and talk and danced around hovering in front of me beating his tiny wings revealing the brilliant red feathers hidden beneath the green. And then from somewhere in the corners of my memory I pulled the statement I had read about them being warrior birds and laughed to myself recalling the samurai vision shared with me. 5 mins later, out of the blue my hummingbird human friend texted me "The Aztecs believed that warriors came back as Hummingbirds after they died." A giant swirl of synchronicity and animal medicine. *swoon*

I've since taught myself to speak parts of their language, mimicking their sound. And though I have no clue what I may be saying, I think certain thoughts while I vocalize and they respond every time diving into my field of view and showing me all of themselves. Morning coffee outside has slowly become a ritual and other animals join me as well. Sonoluminescence. Talk to the animals. They'll respond so long as love and respect for their being are present in your vocalizations.

Astral Adventures/Dream Backlog

Night of 2/23 - Morning of 2/24
I've just moved into a new home and we've spent most of our day in the living room unpacking, dealing with stuff etc. Walking into the bedroom, it's night and there's neon lights coming through the window. I glance out to see some kind of animal experience happening. There's 3 guys in wetsuits and otters and dolphins playing with them in the harbor. I open the window and salty air floods my nostrils as I smile at the sight in front of me. We step out to explore the silent streets and wander along the waterfront. Aside from the boats, every single shop sells only one thing, neon signs.

Night of 2/27 - Morning of 2/28
A beautiful woman with beaming vibrant eyes is standing in front of me. Her smile is warm and she's holding a spoon filled with a glowing luminescent blue liquid up to my lips. I glance at the bottle in her left hand and it appears to be ancient as though it sat in a tomb for millions of moons; the kind of craftsmanship that doesn't exist today. It's made of glass and metal, embedded with stones. Before parting my lips I ask if the medicine may be expired as it seemed to be so old. She laughed and explained that there was no expiration date. It slid down my throat warming my body and made me feel like I was floating.

Night of 3/1 - Morning of 3/2
I was in a car with my first boyfriend though time wise it was present day. We were driving fast and passed a girl in her wedding dress and presumably her mother- both looking pissed as we drove by. "thanks for saving me from that." he said, dressed in a suit. I wasn't dressed up by any means and it became clear he felt I had somehow stopped his wedding? So we're driving up a windy road and the car no longer had a windshield. We come across a group of guys and their motorcycles drinking and they begin to throw eggs at us. I catch each one without them breaking. We stop the car and his friend Luke comes up. They start laughing and talking and drinking and being boys. I'm wandering around and come across people playing basketball and others on blankets having picnics. As I'm taking everything in, I look over and see the basketball just as it's hitting a small girls head decapitating her. No one moves and I'm filled with rage as I get closer screaming at them all the while. My screaming and words appear to make all the people picnicking notice what just happened and I see them stand slowly one by one, curious about the fuss being made. As I get closer myself, I realize the body is just that. A body. She was a doll. Not a little girl. No one had actually been harmed. My ex appears, drunk, and I tell Luke to go help his boy.

Astral Adventures: Calico Kali

Last night I had 2 very vivid dreams (that I recall) and I completely woke up in between them. Woke up meaning I got up, used the restroom, looked in the mirror etc. In the first I was walking out to my backyard and there were two raccoons and five calico cats. Raccoon energy has been around me a lot lately and the two in my dream have actually consistently been coming to my house in waking life as well so they didn't surprise me. I live with two Calico cats so that didn't surprise me either. What did get my blood pumping with awe was when I asked the cats if they were hungry, if they wanted to eat and all 5 lined up in a longitude line south to north and shifted their shapes into human beings. They smiled yet never spoke. I walked over and found my backyard had also shifted into a forest. One tree had become many and everything was natural, not gardened. It was night and everything was cast with a blue hue. The human cat closest to me held his left hand out and motioned for me to follow him. As I did, he swung his arm in front of him and it began to glow and give off sparks. But not firey sparks, more like fluorescence. I noticed a similar light coming from behind a tree and as we got closer I saw the other 4 human cats standing in a circle talking with a faerie who was glowing with that same blue fluorescence. The trees and all the plants around them were lit up as well. She looked at me and smiled...and then I woke up.

While I can and have already psychoanalyzed this over several times, I'm not gonna write about my findings. The words would dull how immensely beautiful everything was. What I will note is that my kittens were spayed 2 weeks ago. The night before their surgery I had a dream in which some being seemed to be consulting with me about them - like a pre surgical examination. But it wasn't about anything physically and what I was told was that Nixie was with me as one of my guardians. Which, looking back makes way too much sense but again, I'm not going down that road right now.

The second dream left me wide awake, walking to the store to buy coffee at 6:45am (on my day off) because I wanted to move in the silence of the empty streets to really dive deep into what had just been shown to me.

While the beginning may matter, this is the middle-end. I'm at what I thought was a giant pool party with four other girls. No clue who they were but apparently we were friends. One of them and myself went to the back of the house, though it was more of a mansion than a house. There's chaos everywhere as models are being tugged into clothes in various different rooms. The room we were in while chaotic, was still pleasant- that light hearted excited chaos that buzzes in the air. I'm gathering my stuff (apparently I had worked?) and the friend and I stop to take a photo. I look in the mirror and see myself wearing a long wrap skirt that opens a bit in the front with wind. Both my skirt and top are patterned with vibrant warm colors. The patterns don't match, but they don't clash either which I'm intrigued by as I've never dressed head to toe in (visible) pattern. As we're gathering my stuff to leave and return to the pool, Danielle appears to help me. She grabs my kit and starts to walk to the hallway. People are still talking and she gets pulled into the conversation. The three of us go to leave for good this time and my kit is nowhere to be found amongst the sea of people in the hallway. A bit of panic begins to creep into my brain and she starts apologizing and saying she'll replace it. I mumble about how she can't afford it but I'm not paying her much mind as I'm focused. Hunting. Eyes darting left and right, walking the hallway, glancing in rooms seeing several Zuca's but none are mine. I'm thinking someone must have confused mine with theirs and it'll pop up eventually but what if it doesn't? She's following me and I eventually stop in this area with 3 couches around a table that's covered with makeup. "please don't be mad at me" she says sitting on a couch to the left of the couch I plopped down on. "I'm not mad at you, I'm upset that it was taken because there's products that are irreplaceable and I need to figure out a solution" I say as I'm trying to recall what products I have at home and what PR contacts I have that I might possibly be able to utilize. I barely even noticed the man sitting across from me. He was so calm that I realized he must have just been killing time waiting for his next model. I only became aware he was even there because of her voice "Ohhh what's that?" I looked up to find she had been playing with the makeup on the table and had painted her face blue. He was handing her a pot of gold cream. As I watched her apply it beneath her eyes something clicked and I smiled and screamed "You're Kali!" and then I woke up.

A few months ago I replied to an email from a lost friend catching her up on where I was. In it I explained that while I told everyone including myself that doing makeup was why I moved to New York, I think the reasons were much deeper and...higher. Rather than thinking of it as makeup as in eyeshadow, foundation, eyeliner etc, thinking of it as make up, imagine, create. Make up your life. Learning how to create consciously. Kali is a creator and thus she's also a destroyer. I don't know what her relationship is to Ganesh but elephants have been creeping into my world as well lately and more specifically, Danielle and I have always jointly had a bond with Ganesh. If Kali is somewhat responsible for making my kit disappear, albeit in the astral realm, it's not something to take lightly. And so as I walked to get coffee I mused...

One of the things that I hate is small talk. And small talk on set is especially jarring because people intend to keep it light not knowing the question they ask always takes me to a deep place and they end up diving with me. Where I'm comfortable diving, the same can't always be said for those asking the question. "how did you start doing makeup?" I had leukemia and it was my therapy. As a friend told me a few months ago, "You created something beautiful out of such darkness. You should be proud. Not everyone is capable of that." He's absolutely right and I'm endlessly grateful for the hundreds if not thousands of people I've met because of it. The places I've been, the experiences I've shared, everything I've learned. Universe, from every cell in my soul, thank you.

Yet, I have to rewind and consider a few things. I fell in love with the craft for purely selfish reasons. It enabled me to visually express how I was feeling and who I felt like being in those few hours. Focusing on line placement and color gradation made the constant "Why did this happen to me? How long until I'm healed?" disappear from my mind. I did it purely for myself. Watching my face shift shapes and eyes change color was amazing! For me it was about becoming whatever character I wanted to be. Once I started working at MAC, I began to see that this seemed to be rarely the case among people who would come to the counter. For them, it was about fixing perceived flaws and painting them into this one character that they were comfortable in. I learned to hate, and still to some degree do, applying makeup on "normal women". *yawn* how boring! Play with all your facets! Try on different masks for Christ's sake.

Working in NY was half way satisfying. I had more say in what I applied as models are the canvas. They play the character everyone else applies to them through hair, makeup, clothing, lighting etc They are creatively directed and bring that vision to life. Yet I say half way because there's still industry standards for most things unless you're testing or working with a really open minded client.

All things considered, I don't want to stop doing makeup. I don't think that was the point of the dream. If I am to think of my kit as my essential potions for creation, my "magic hat" then it's time for some serious revamping. Removing some to make room for others. Upgrade across the board. New, new, new. I've done this bit by bit over the last few years with my actual kit but much like the dream, perhaps it's time to lay it all out on the table and redefine what belongs there. And then go find whatever is missing. It's time to create some new characters and shift the story. My new response will be "I liked playing with colors and creating characters."

"I knew myself before I knew anyone..."

I remember getting a t shirt as a birthday present from some classmate at my 10th birthday party. It was white and had a photo of a shopping bag with the words "I shop, therefore I am" across the chest.

Am...what? That shirt bothered me for years. I remember asking my parents what it meant and not receiving an answer. Long after the shirt met the end of its days in my world, it's ghost would still saunter through my memory banks teasing my brain about what those words meant and what an odd present it seemed to be for a 10 year old.

This happened from time to time for 17 years until I took a philosophy class and was introduced to Descartes. Only then did the phrase finally, kinda make sense. Though I know it was a play on his words, the choice of "shop" still left me pissed.

This past week was a nuclear week which doesn't happen too often. My sister came to visit and thus the core energy I grew up with, sans any additives, was present. Of course we've all shifted in one way or another over the years so while it may not be the exact interaction, it was still some form of it and quite revealing. I saw behaviors displayed that I had adopted at one point in my life.
"Ohhh so that's where that came from!"
And I'd think to a time when I had exhibited the same behavior and remembered hating myself in the process because it didn't feel right, but it didn't feel like it was something I could stop myself from expressing. And then I'd suddenly feel stronger, realizing that wasn't my innate, core behavior but rather something I'd learned, which meant I could drop it.

The "identity crisis" continues...In an appropriately Uranian kinda way I changed my profile on both twitter and Instagram to say a single word. I don't know who reads those things or if anyone even does but summing myself up with a list of terms to define myself just felt so wrong all of a sudden.

With mercury retrograde my sister visiting felt like a catalyst. Reminding me of what I am, who I am, ways in which I am and conversely reminding me what I am not, who I am not and ways in which I am not. All those "nots" are mostly my mother. Some are negative, others positive but none are truly my own organic unique energy. Watching old videos, viewing old photographs and laying in bed with my sister I'm reminded of who I was before I began to adopt personality traits that aren't actually mine.

I am feisty and playful and my silliness can border on nerdiness. I laugh a lot at tension in a room because it feels ridiculous and tickles me. I am strong and confident 95% of the time. My favorite past time is allowing myself to take flight and get lost in realms of possibility. I am air headed. Spirit lives through me. I am a dreamer. I am endlessly curious. I am stubborn. I know what I want and how I want it. I am flexible. I am strong willed. I believe in the mystical. I am the mystical. I am a caretaker. I am filled with love. I am a hopeless romantic. I enjoy challenging the world from time to time. I am a pot stirrer. I am extremely sensual. I am a creator. I understand more than I ever let on.

Do, be, do, be...

"The problem with our country is that we seem to be more concerned with what people do for a living than who they are." -Uncle Snooky

So I'm having a bit of an identity...crisis? I'm not sure that's the proper word or even term though as it reeks of dramatic overtones. The feeling I'm attempting to describe is more like a gentle gnawing akin to when you're trying to remember something, its on the tip of your tongue but your brain hasn't made that connection just yet. And it's fucking annoying.

While watching a tv show last night there was a scene in which the "master" says to the student something along the lines of "you're nearly at the completion of your mission. As you know, it is vital that you review where you began, why you began and what you've accomplished in the duration." This exchange (obviously) stood out to me.

When I made the decision to leave New York, I wasn't sure where that choice would leave me job wise and I now find myself shrouded in conflicting thoughts musing to myself about what it all means. I agree with my uncles statement above, and yet for the entire duration of my participation as a working being, I always took the utmost pride in my job. I wore whatever the title was as some sort of accolade to my existence. Yes, it's very much an ego thing but I felt proud with each proclamation: "I am a counselor/teacher/biologist/personaltrainer/makeup artist/bartender" I've had 1 job in 20 years that I did not immerse myself in wholly. 1 job that I didn't love in some capacity. 1 job that was, just a job. It lasted 2 months and I loathed every moment I spent there.

With no means of consistent income since late September, I've had numerous voices from various sources advise me that a job can just be a job and to just get one. And then there are the other voices from various sources proclaiming that when you love what you do, it's not work at all. #ilovemyjob #followyourheart Along with the fact that I suppose I've been spoiled to some degree. The amount of money I've earned per hour has risen successively with every single job I've held. Until now.

Venus goes direct today. She has been retrograde since December 21st and frankly I'm a bit surprised I was able to gain employment at all while she sat in her corner prompting everything she rules- love and money, or more aptly value, be reviewed. And as life would have it, just as she takes her first steps forward in every beings life once again, Mars has collided with my own natal Venus and Pluto. An orgasmic threesome that will play together until July. The fruits of which I will take great pleasure in birthing.

I want to devour my cake. What the fuck is the point of having something you cannot consume? Or rather be consumed by? I'm thinking it's all a matter of balance or temperance and that kinda feels like it'll be a theme this year.

I grew up in a household where my father owned (still does) his own business. He insisted on doing it all himself and has never hired employees. He loves what he does and perhaps that notion has been my strongest guide in shaping the way I navigate my life. Yet if one were to review our family life growing up, he was absent from many vacations and school functions as work nearly always took precedence. While I can't wait for the day that I hold a job I'm passionate about, that doesn't feel like work, I'm also becoming aware of the need for balance. My entire world doesn't need to revolve around my career.

Along with all of these feelings, I'm at a point where I'm trying to figure out how to reintegrate the facets of myself that have laid dormant while still maintaining what I've invested in for the past 10 years. I don't want to stop doing makeup. Yet solely doing makeup isn't fulfilling enough. For now, I suppose I'm off to a start of some kind. I'm working in an animal hospital 3 days a week leaving the other 4 open for freelance work. Tomorrow I'm shooting a lookbook with a photographer whose work I genuinely like and I'm hoping that this will possibly be the beginning of establishing myself in the SF commercial scene.

Career wise, this is all fantastic and lovely but it brings me back to my uncles statement and a scene from August 2010 floods my head. I am sitting on the futon in my living room and my two friends are sitting on the couch opposite me. "You're the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland. Who are you?", states my twin. And there it is. The best answer I can muster up is that I am love. A malleable energy that shifts and shapes itself into what it needs to be at the given moment. A healer. A kaleidoscope of possibilities to those with vision. A flood of darkness to those afraid of their shadow. Welcome back to orbit Venus.

Cricket

"Now you HAVE to be like a statue with a smile. You're a rock in the water. Okay?" She smiled with her tiny fingers cupping my face, eyes serious as could be for few moments before throwing her little arms around my neck.

She is Cricket. She is 3 years old and we share the same exact sun (birthday) along with the same Arian moon. 17 years ago, Crickets mom became my boss and mentor guiding me through my teenage years. I'm not sure why but I'm always surprised when people remain in my life in some capacity, and their presence always affects me in a very deep way.

The parallels of life intrigue me. Last weekend I watched both Cricket and her 5 and a half - the half is important ;) - year old brother, Spyder. They were seated, eating their dinner talking about their favorite animals when the lights flickered. I had only been there for maybe 30 mins at this point and though I adore kids, I can't even remember the last time I was responsible for little ones this young. Spyder asked me why the lights had flickered and as he did so, they went out completely for about 10 seconds before turning on again briefly. Both kids immediately moved closer to me freaked, asking what was happening. I held Cricket on my left hip and Spyder with my right hand and we searched for a flashlight and candles. Of course, they went out again.



Spyder successfully remembered where a flashlight was and I tried to alleviate their fear of the dark through shadow puppets and talking about why they were afraid. Intriguingly enough, my own most potent moment of discussing fear of the dark that has remained in my brain, happened with their mom 12 years ago. We were driving slowly through a forest in Yosemite at night when she slowed the car to a stop and turned off the headlights. Screams came from some of the other teens in the van with me but she had created a teaching moment and opened the door for discussion. We sat in that van in the pitch blackness of the forest for at least 10 minutes talking about senses and what made something immediately scary just because you couldn't see it. I found myself tailoring that conversation for her little ones that night. They slept in the dark, right? I reminded Spyder about the days before electricity existed and his affirming that fact helped to soothe his sister as well.

By the time the lights came on, their fear had diminished. We had found a headlamp that Cricket insisted on wearing while Spyder played with one of those light up circus toys. They both love kitties and each pretended they were one of my kittens, jumping on my shoulders. When it was time for bed, we all danced and sang to a barnyard song book. Spyder climbed into his top bunk and as I kneeled in front Cricket she spoke those words above to me before I laid her in bed. The potent wisdom of a sleepy 3 year old.