Not quite ‘meeting the Buddha on the road,’ but this was quite the trip.  I’d been working to awaken the spirits of the land, particularly the spirits of forest I’ve lived near for the last 8 months.  And just before I leave, I find this guy, placed atop one of the mounds built over the gasoline pipeline running through Seattle (and just over the fault line).

He’s not The Dagda, of course, nor any of the gods I worship, but someone else in the neighborhood (many Asian folks who were moved here after the internment camps closed) (remember America had internment camps?) (remember we still do?), responding to some beckoning of the sacred, placed this here.

And at the foot of the mound I found a gift from the crows.

More on that here: The Burning Heart of the Forest (A Sense of Place)

Also, more forest stuff!

John Beckett reviewed Your Face is a Forest!  I’m enchanted by the idea that my writing should be read like one reads scripture–not as sacred certainty, but with the mystic’s mind.

And speaking of the mystic’s mind, I’ve been reading Lorna Smither’s Enchanting the Shadowlands.  I’ll be reviewing it soon, but I don’t think you should wait for my review to buy it.  Each section’s like a Miyazaki film, bits that make your heart soar so high you cry in exuberance, bits so sorrowful you don’t think you’ll ever survive to read the next line.

And another review of Your Face is A Forest–actually, a poem!  No one’s ever written me poetry before.

And oh!  Speaking of forests and ferocity and beauty and mystics and also amazing people, a new site’s coming oh-so-soon.  It’s called Gods and Radicals, a collection of Pagan anti-capitalist writing from some of the most fascinating (and enchanting) people around.  More information soon.

Be fucking amazingly damn well, all of you!