There, the Dance Is

Before I left Seattle for my pilgrimage (and subsequent journeys, which I’m suspecting comprise even more of the pilgrimage than I’ve quite suspected), the one card which would show up repeatedly in my Tarot readings was The World. There are all the usual meanings of the card–completion, fulfillment, travel, the end of a cycle, etc., […]

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Hi, Dionysos

Don’t write poetry when you’re drunk, I’ve said, and yet it all weaves and wends, like under the tree where I still don’t know what they re-wove. He’s there, smiling again, back, like the time He was on another’s face, and then another’s.  The time I sat there, writing about the clothes the gods wear, […]

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Gods and Radicals

I’m a part of what weaves my story, but there are sudden bursts of searing insight which remind me that I am not the only who weaves it, nor are my choices ever only my own. Shall I explain? How can I, really, except to impart fragments just as I view them–not shattered, but patch-work […]

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