"The Prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel dined with me, and I asked them how they dared so roundly to assert, that God spake to them; and whether they did not think it at the time, that they would be misunderstood, & so be the cause of imposition. Isaiah answer'd, I saw no God, nor heard any, in a finite organical perception; but my senses discover'd the infinite in every thing, and as I was then perswaded, & remain confirm'd, that the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God, I cared not for consequences but wrote." --William Blake
"The nourishment of revelation must sometimes be mixed with overblown fanfare, sarcasm, and pointless jokes." -Jelaluddin Rumi
Some might argue the point about revelation, but never mind...
I'm, well....Imagine Dorothy Parker and Frida Kahlo's underachieving love child, born in the heart of Dixie. Southern Gothic ain't just on the library shelf, baby. Except these days I'm a lot more settled down, at least on the surface, than those antecedents would imply. I prefer it that way.
I don't have an inner child so much as an inner, outer, and removable fleece liner child. And I'm fond of saying that you have to befriend your demons. If that doesn't scare you off, well, you ought to have a real good time...
The stuff I write in my LiveJournal is sort of like the front porch of my mind....you know, there's some African violets, some hanging baskets with ferns and red geraniums in them, honeysuckle or wistaria growing on a trellis, a porch swing with cushions, some beer and lemonade, some books I like to read, maybe a radio, and a pair of muddy shoes by the door....I'm a storyteller from a long line of storytellers, and of soft-spoken Southern women with Celtic tempers. Pull up a chair. Mind the cat, he's lazy and thinks the world and all soft cushions belong to him alone...
Given that God is infinite, and the universe is also infinite, would you like some toast?
Yes, please. With butter. We can then strap the toast butter side up to Schrodinger's Cat, drop the cat-and-butter into the gravity well of a singularity, and form a truly Infinite Improbability Field, which might just turn out to be the very Universe we are living in right this moment.
Who are the God and Goddess?
Well, see, there's this toast...and there's this cat....Um. You. Me. Them. Us. All polarities, all unities. The creator and that which is created, the dancer and the dance, the song and the singer...which are equal, and one with each other. Consciousness and manifest reality. The on-off pulse that drives the universal engine. Life and Death.
Toast. Butter. Cat.
"I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is; I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat." ~Rebecca West
And so here we all are, then...a woman, a story, a secret, a magical boy, a journey, a cast of unlikely characters; a dream, a bargain with fey powers, a transformation or two, a few fairies, some trickster gods (and goddesses). Some wishes are granted, some dragons slain or sweet talked into submission, and we find true love, more or less, and high adventure, in a manner of speaking...
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