Horse

There has been a few times of connection with the horses. I think it was my breathing and resolve to motion; very deliberate and relaxed. I would say this, its a difficult role, to be a 'keeper' of a living thing. I can feel a guilt at assigning roles to these horses, whom I can say from even just four days observing and interacting them, they have very distinguished character and a very impressive common sense available to them; it is almost a reverence I feel due to their incarceration and beauty. I also guess the young ones must be born with a rather high level of intelligence in order to survive. Though it may not be expressed as openly as the adults I've seen very keen observations on the part of the phillies and very clear communication, such as "hey, look at this, you forgot to lock the gate" as she makes a clatter with the loose chain. Its not often you can say your are deliberately taught by another species, what you need to do. IF birds only understood air pollution.

I don't mean to say anything against a horse farm just as I don't to a rock climber or nascar driver; we all have a passion of equal value, it is in our perspectives that there is a varying level of objectivity, or, observation. A horse farm is a good thing but I can;t imagine the expense of operating a large one with all the provisions to provide a great life to the animals. I can see myself, if I could reason with the dilemma of slavery/companion, with one, or even three horses. I think caring for more would require me to have a ranch and earn money off of them somehow which would offend the slavery issue. But one horse on the fringe would be a reasonable thing.

I am told of BLM horse auctions, Wild Mustangs. These horses are taken out of the 'wild'. OF course due to sprawl development there is not adequate land for a natural sized population to roam, hence the auctions are used to maintain numbers based on remaining land. The thought of adopting a wild horse to keep wild sounds like the best option for the slave conscious.

Would you want a Mare

It is also clear that to maintain a "good relationship" both the horse and the human must respect each other's space and needs. A horse must feel secure around you and be willing to coexist. You must provide an appropriate level of predictability for the horse, and the horse must not run away when you come close. I find every new encounter with the same horse requires an 'initiation' of sorts. I have only been working around horses for a handful of days so that alone is an issue; how well to they know me? How else could I 'introduce' myself and communicate to them I mean no harm then to establish the protocol and see to it we both follow.

In my case, I need to audibly communicate more with them to keep them aware of my presents. I do this around the mares when they're out or their pens. They are walking free all around you, running by and quietly coming up behind you to observe. What happens if you mistakenly sneak up behind one? I don't have any experience doing so and I can't imagine one could amass much. When I'm with the Stallions and they're in their pens, I sometimes fall into a routine of walking by the pens not introducing my walking by and mistakenly startle one of the guys. It's only the young one and the rescued one. The others seem to be very confident, and patient, almost knowing sooner or later I'll "behave".

Where is the line between "breaking an animal" and teaching them how to work together? I felt too guilty owning a car, how could I own a live creature such as a horse, a very smart creature capable of living without my help, a long and productive life? I should learn more about earth cultures such as the native americans to see how they regarded and treated these animals of utility or means.

poem

Oh, a sunset
keep falling
oh, the love i feel
the rain and wind
keep falling
A leaf in the rain can mimic
Leaves can talk
trees in the rain
keep falling, again and again
Now mountains too
Still, for you and your need for television
Keep falling for reason why its better to
or, there is no better so don't even try
Keep falling
the air and the height
The fear and the resolution
Keep falling, as water there's nothing else

And as for the ground, take root
Grow again

West: up, Up, down

though the sun shine clearly, there are times when cloud obscure the light. to the moment, I finally have let go of an old aversion, that towards weakness.

This manifests in sharing and that is something I've not been very good at for some time. As expected though, when you "undo something" there is a sort of temporary unbalance created as everything up to the point of change was based on the previous condition. If you build a house out of wood, and then realize you wana build it out of adobe, well, the house must come down.

I feel there is a lesson learned, again and again: build from the ground; let yourself fall from such contrived heights, let go of the falsehood of the self. We are neither perfect or all-knowing, but we are indeed the only one who knows, sees and does as we, each one, does. My feel was of mediocrity, how silly. From my finger print to my footprints across the desert, I , we each are unique in our existence, and bound to one source. we are many expressions of the same energy. I celebrate this.

I let the cleaved off parts of my personality nurture the roots of my being.

On the state of things worldly

Its me who does nothing to solve problems. Its me who merely talks and has yet to walk. It is me who needs to listen to the words of wisdom. I go to work on myself, inspired by the phoenix song bird that I witnessed rise from the mud despite my infectious weakness. Her song is now her life, requiring all senses to hear and feel. I will look from afar for the light she casts is bright indeed.

With my life; my misery; my love and joy, onward to beauty beyond and the next breath.

Awake to the dawn

Amid the world, there is but one place that each of us holds. Among the masses we are but one, individually wrapped soul bouncing off the others. What of this wrapping? I look through the wasteful packaging walking down the isles of the local grocery store, is the body such to the Divine as they shop the cosmic shop for a planet to create? Silly thought. But I do revel in this packaging, and I do see it as such for a time like today clearly shows the contents within are not the same as the image of the container.

To the wearer of make-up: Wake Up, shine the inner beauty and find the complementary container your seek with your contents. The put on make-up if you so desire to express the soul. And to myself and those like me: Let the confidence catch up, stick with something; any of the beautiful things/ideas you've been ahead of for so long.

(concludes the fortune cookie portion of this post)

I"ve put my boat, the Nita Jacqueline, on "the hard" as they say. She sits floating in the air, sturdy still resting upon her keel and stands. So concludes my inaugural year of being a sailor, and to my credit (toot-toot), I didn't sink or suffer any serious damage due to negligence.

I did more than just jump off the deep end, a practice I've been working on for a few years now, but I pioneered, or, cleared the over-growth from an old path rather.

The arts of the sailor are many, and the skills I've collected as a carpenter, mechanic, climber, rigger and even artist have all helped to provide me with a good head start. I chose to get rid of my motor in favor of continuing a morally sound baseline lifestyle. There is no way around it, purchasing and burning gas for "fun" is bullshit (whom ever find offence, talk to your conscience, I speak the truth the truth). This presents a few challenges, especially to the novice seaman, namely docking/navigating in tight spots in calms -or- high winds.

At the dock, rarely will you see a sailboat softly sailing into or out of her slip, or being boat-hooked to a point where sails can be hoisted. There is no reason to motor a sailboat except that all-American condition of "Aversion to Discomfort". I am proof that, it is not a difficult thing to dock and shuv-off under sail, or skull with the rudder for I am a novice and have been doing motor less sailing for 6 months.

I was a little (a lot) nervous at first, well, for a while actually. But each time I mad good decisions in the beginning and despite my perception I always ended up with a nice smooth approach and docking. There were times I was frantic, bystanders must of been confused; to see a sailboat gracefully and without a sound drift up to the dock, with her captain running about with dock lines and fenders falling about. I still remember the motor, how on two occasions: I one fell in the water trying to stop her at the slip, and two, stalled the motor before I could put it in revers to slow the boat at the dock, having no choice but to jump ashore and cleat her, slamming her bow into the dock.

Under way, she was kind to me, and sailed as the wind itself. She is a fine boat and a finer home still. I spend this winter on projects to return her to a fully worthy bluewater boat. And I look to the southern waters of a new experience and the continuation of my living adventure.

There goes the last moment in a string of moments past, and yet still more to come; chances for change come and go. I, among the thoughtless crowds of the Fells Point Festival, one of many displaced by the type of materialistic riff raff the congregate at such events. I was threatened by someone claiming to be part of the Living Classrooms Foundation to move my boat. In my place was 60 foot catamaran named "Executive". True poetry: Small, humble boat ousted by "big business". My love prevailed; I left the aged crew to their bubble.

I haul out the famous nameless blue Bristol 27, which will have a name come april. I set out to spend the winter working towards a few things: returning my boat into a fully seaworthy condition, record a album, travel to the mountains and play in the snow and to grow closer and to support my mother in her living while she deals with cancer.

I will be living once again in the home that I grew up in. I've been away from my family for some time, even having been back in Maryland for six months of so. I will live under the same roof as my mother and step father. It will be difficult but due to my nature, may be the last time I will have to spend with my mother. At least, it will be a chance to know her as she has become, as we all grow until we die. she has been growing too, and I have either forgotten or need to she her in her present light to grow the relationship between a mother and her son.

I will like to once and for all, celebrate all the gifts I have; all the people who are present in my life who do let me drift away to the sea of dispare. I'm a needy person, this is no secret. I walk these days with the words from a friend: "You deserve love". I continue the opening of my heart