To distill ... ho'opuhi ... to extract the essence

"..Madeline's bare wrist stretched from the long wool sleeves revealing a subtle yet definite pattern of ink -- tatau. The design began a thumb's length from the narrowest measure at the wrist. Four lines of peaked black ink circled and met in a pattern that was without doubt the vana ... sea urchin. Puff collected the details of her journey much the same way she assembled and remembered the flavors of a recipe she wanted to repeat. The look and taste of this moment. She sipped the bitter-sweet tea then asked, "Can I help with the pies? " Kai was back at the long kitchen table rolling the crust for the third pie. "I'm not particularly good at crusts, but I'm great with a paring knife." The bowl of Pippins were washed and ready for slicing. "We leave the skins in tact. I think it's the best part of an apple, the skin. 'cept we do skin a few of the beauties and dangle them over the stove for fun and treats for later days." Puff hadn't noticed before, but did now as her eyes looked at the open beams. Bunches of herbs and flowers dangled by their roots from every beam and rafter. Camomile, sage, a feathery sort of grass Puff could not identify, tiny roses and others as well. "Elder berry blossoms, their the lacy ones and the feathery grass is barley. We make wreaths for the holidays and sell them in the markets in town." "You are a veritable artisan's workshop," Puff was impressed.

The evening passed in comfortable enterprise and easy conversation, the exceptional circumstances for Puff's arrival melded as did the cinnamon with sugar over the sliced Pippins. There would be time for storytellers soon enough. The unspoken mana of non-intrusiveness, not being maha'oe warmed the cottage as much as the heat from the hearth and good stove. Culture is visceral, the women felt it and respected what was..."

This is an excerpt from the mytic fiction and journey of time travel that is fascinating me as I weave the many tendrils and knotted cords of life as I see it.  The link to that entire post is here.  My husband and I were having a conversation early this morning, "I read your stuff," he said.  I was still waking up but it's always fun to hear what he has to say about my writing.  His insight inspires me to write, and what he feels once the writing is on the page incites more.  This morning's conversation stretched in many directions during the minutes we shared in the vardo and as is common there are other stories tickling at me because of this exchange.  But in the main Pete's sense of the story with this segment was the desire to know more about these characters who make pie together though they are virtual strangers.  The hospitality to strangers, a universal theme stirred memories of visits to the Wisconson farm where he easily remembered the excitement of company coming.  Whipped into a frenzy with excitement, the innocence of that time came to be with him as he read. 

I said, "You've got the added advantage of knowing the background for (most) everything I write."  That's the part of writing this fiction that is exciting for me.  To a lesser extent the writing on MoonTattoos the blog, gives all readers access to the motivations and research I do to distill the story.  What a gift, is the sidebars and hyperlinks.  My curiosity and imagination is broad, my digging stick is at the ready and I poke holes as I research and water a potential link with my imagination.  Like writers and artists have done and continue to do with words, paints and music I weave a world into which new endings and versions of 'truth' offer me a place of comfort and understanding.  Naming the characters is essential to my stories.  Puff asks the young boy if she has heard his name correctly.  'Kai.  K A I.'  "Where I come from "Kai" means ocean."   The responses Puff receives moves the story forward. 

From the comfort and distance of the woods that both separate and allow my soul and my memories to distill the journey, being elder in training takes on more meaning.  The nine tools of Makua O'o are base ingredients and necessary practices.  Frequency of use, and the combination or pairing of the tools move the story along or pause the venture like compost.  I wish for my family to read this mythic fiction and feel at home with the story.  In the reading there may be a homeopathic-like remedy that rises from meeting one character or event.  I have infused so much of my history into the fiction, storyteller do that.   For other readers the story is there for entertaining and passing of timeless culture.  Healing happens over time and in circles with peaks and points along the way like the tatau vana a reminder that not all can eat (or wear) the vana.  It may not be yours, but then again, maybe it is your story.

Vana design on Hawaiian Kapa

I hope you find your way to MoonTattoos and get to know the Maxwell 'ohana and their mo'olelo.

Sitting with "The Pono Sisters"

Pete and I spent the day in the city.  Island living in the Pacific Northwest means you must canoe or catch a ferry from the moku to get to the city.  Some folk have their canoes, and a few own a plane and fly above the trees to make their way into Seattle.  For us nest dwellers without feathers and wings of our own, a $25 roundtrip ticket aboard The Washington State Ferries gets us from ke'ia to kela.  Like most island folks who aren't commuting to and from work, our city day was a planned event ... conscious and purposely scheduled.  It takes a lot to get me off the island!  Generosity and friendship has gifted us with many things and this city excursion was inspired by a gift:  two tickets to Yes!Magazine's 2nd Annual Celebration in Seattle's Town Hall.  A very generous and active friend asked if the event interested me.  To be honest, I had never read Yes!Magazine before we talked about the event.  My friend changed that when she handed me a manila envelope with four issues of Yes!   Okay, I was hooked on the mission and content and yes, I thought the event would be great.  Our names were put on a waiting list for the evening event with Alice Walker, Frances Moore Lappe and moderator Puanani Burgess, from Hawaii. 

The theme of the celebration was "People Power" and thanks to our generous friend (who is in the woods of Wisconsin with her family experiencing a Paleolithic summer, as elder-in-residence at 75 years old) Pete and I were part of an evening with "The Pono Sisters" (a named coined by Pua Burgess that night).  It was an evening to top a day of great satisfaction, and medium effort on our part.  We have resources to pay for a roundtrip ferry ticket; energy and health to make my way into social settings; and a consistently passionate will to connect with pono, stay close to the essence of aloha.  Here's the link to the video created of that event.  You judge for yourself the quality of the conversation and the mana of the message.

Mahalo Margaret.

http://www.yesmagazine.org/about/town-hall-2012

Jupiter planted seeds and we are gett'n down and dirty

We're thinking about creating something we put on the back burner eight years ago.  Life brought change, we attended to it, made many moves, learned some things, forgot more things and now we are 'retired' and busier than we've ever been living a life that seems to fit us more comfortably than ever before.  Work, hard work is part of this comfortable life:  illusions and delusions can be very hard especially when you don't recognize them; other times an innocent or temporary delusion is just the way around something you know is there ... procrastination?  Probably.  But, to be honest and gentle with myself, I see that really sometimes the way through the evolutionary process of becoming, a gal has got to wiggle around things until the time is 'right.'  Being makua o'o is hard work, and with a blueprint like mine with no major assists in the area of fun and creativity (the 5th House) I can get far too serious about the way to learn things.  Rigid.  Don't misunderstand me, I know I have lessons to learn about getting down to earth and grounded in the things that I 'think about'.  Astrology is my greatest school and over and over time and again being human (life as a being on earth) makes more sense when I plaster the huli of the heavens to my life.  In other words, when I get to work with values that are mine and not those I have adopted I am living comfortably in my skin and grounded in what feeds my internal hunger. Evolutionary astrologists and ancient ancestors would say I am 'feeding the dragon' .  I get this wisdom in a way that fits my sense of value.  The makua o'o could easily be a shortened version of makua mo'o.  Mo'o the goddess lizard-drazon.  The mo'o also another word for follower.  I connect the ancient way of looking at the head (or mouth) of the dragon when describing the North Node of the Moon in astrology; and the tail of the dragon when describing the South Node of the Moon.  In this story the Nodes are the digestive track of the dragon, or the mo'o.  Evolutionary astrologer Anita Doyle put it this way:

...Imagine, as the ancients did, that the line connecting the North Node with the South Node is the alimentary tract of the mythical dragon, and that what is taken in as nourishment at the mouth, or North Node, travels down this tract, being digested and absorbed along the way, until everything of value to the individual has been extracted. What remains as waste is released at the South Node, or what we euphemistically refer to as the dragon’s “tail.”

Getting down and dirty appeals to my North Node in earthy Taurus that just wants to be at home in the earthy dirt.  That back burner creation we set aside is building a cob home.  Seems that desire and our willingness to allow for it are aligning themselves.  I'm working on the research and re-reading of the wonderful book by the Oregon Cob Company folks The Handsculpted House and am delighted to see the drawings of cosmic connections and decisions about building our cob home.  In so many ways the process of building the nests we now call 'home' drew on our connection with earth-sky-sun-moon. Respect for 'aina, malama 'aina and asking permission are at the heart of how we live and build our lives. The vardo and quonset homes were built with the additional knowing that at least for a time, there are materials that were no-goes for us.  We have learned to respect the body's wisdom; and with more time the body experience changes as we change.  Building a home, any home takes energy.  Energy is time, skill, money and persistence.  Rather than 'retire' Pete and I seem to be re-energized with the experiences we have stored up during the past twelve years.  Looking at time as we do astrology (ElsaElsa.com) offered me this yesterday about Jupiter's return to the sign of Gemini:

Elsa wrote "... Seeds are planted during Jupiter transits. Twelve years later you can see how those seeds developed, if they developed. Jupiter rules journeys and this is another way to look at this. What journey did you begin in the latter part of 2000 through mid 2001?"


I left the following comment on that blog post
" Interested perspective: Jupiter plants seeds. I was training to be yoga teacher and began teaching. I injured my lower back (root chakra) and spent the next 5 yrs recovering. Was gifted with a free trip to Hiroshima to deliver 1,000 paper cranes folded by many hands over the year (2000-2001). I traveled with the injury, thanks to my benefactor friend I met wonderful and kind people in Japan, experienced the Sadako Sasaki Peace Celebration. I saw the effects of the atomic bomb. Life includes pain. Others can help. Not every path is mine. Peace is collective. Pass it on. ...

Twelve years ago these seeds were planted:
Life include pain.  Pain is part of a natural birth.  It's what happens when the baby becomes Earth-centered.
Others can help.  If you tell the you need help.
Not every path is mine.  That's the trick. 
Peace is collective.
Pass it on.  Sharing the journey might help someone.


Where were you 12 years ago and what journey did you begin in mid 2000 - 2001?

Na pua

Last night we christened our new garden-side bathtub filling it with hot water the tiny boat shaped tub swirled with the completed promise of progress:  we had made the leap from two cups of water in a pan to a tub enough to soak neck to toe.  Progress is sometimes slow to be seen by the eye, but when one ages the measurements for progress change and the wait is more just part of the process and we have come to love the incremental.  Last night the cool night air and dark sky just prior to the Full Moon and Lunar Eclipse was a perfect culmination.  Pete has worked in true Virgo and Cancerian fashion attending to details and setbacks with the ultimate pulse of nurturance a backbeat to his projects.  The pipes have been sweat, the joints checked, the innovations and solutions are working and for at least an hour the joy of a tub full of hot water, and access to the nozzle a craftsman soaked it in. The promise kept:  A soaking tub for two water people, the Scorp and the Crab.

Like mothering, nurturing is a process of completing a promise that requires patience; to be part of watering a seed.  This morning the photo above arrived in my email.  Na pua ... the flowers.  The kaona ... the precious.  My son and girlfriend in France wearing gifts (around their necks) from beach walks along the Salish Sea here in Washington. 

Something(s) good happened with the Eclipse.

And for you?

where is the emphasis?

When I write fiction and hear the voice of a character it doesn't matter as I pull the voice through my finger tips where the emphasis or gluttal stop pauses the word.  I am too busy enjoying the art of translation to stop for the details.  Sloppy grammar or an inaccuracy doesn't stop me.  I pour the story through and am lost and love it.

While I translate experiences fishing for a connection between my world as a healing mortal the proper emphasis matters if it is my mind that wishes for clarity.  Is it o'o or o'o or o'o; even this the software doesn't accurately mark the vowels but you get the drift a Makua (adult) o'o is a matured adult or a maturing adult; a Makua o'o could mean an adult crowing as a chicken might be crowing; a Makua o'o with a digging stick.  The story and the meaning of words changes and I wonder how important it is in the end.


Link here to see a magnificent Pokot Tribe elder woman with a stick ... a Makua o'o and a Makua o'o

And here a crowing hen ...