Sunday, January 13, 2013

Behind the scenes: the sound of clapping for Peter Pans


What better medicine then the fabrication of a cozy place, 
and company worth keeping.
- The Joy Weed Journal from my medicine story "The Safety Pin Cafe"

Not so long ago (2008), I walked the shore along the Salish Sea with an illness, a companion that would not give me its purpose nor offer lasting solutions. Oh how filled with pity I was, offended at the affects, and bitter. Oh my how embittered.

Bit or bite at a time, the gods, angels, 'aumakua and heavenly alignments conspired medicine that could homeo-practically change things for the better. Maybe at all started on a Sunday. Sunday, the day of turmeric, as The Mistress of Spice has said, "Each spice has a special day to it. For turmeric it is Sunday, when light drips fat and butter-colored into the bins to be soaked up glowing, when you pray to the nine planets for love and luck."

The conspiracy of the Gods gave us opportunities:
Pictured above ...
The basement apartment where we lived in the kitchen, slept in the kitchen and learned to blog on the floor of the kitchenette. 
A wandering kitty native to the woods close by found us and made it clear she 'was sent' and not at all inclined to go away. That's JOTS in a cardboard box filled with blankets and Christmas tree lights.
Resources of imagination, a lifetime of skill, a place to rebuild our lives and build a tiny home on wheels led to the creation of The VardoForTwo, our first cozy home where the medicine renews itself one day, one night at a time. 


Today ...

All around me the evidence of Jack Frost remains firm. Crisp and crunchy walking paths between the vardo and the Quonset, the rain barrel filled with water frozen to the brim in geometric patterns and flows awesome in their beauty. Pete is in the 'Au Hale, the washing house doing laundry as he listens to a Sunday football game on the radio. My stockinged feet and bare shins toast next to the Radiant Heater as I blog. Some things have changed. Some things stay the same.

We have a home here in the woods of South Whidbey Island where even more than the evidence of seasonal realities like Jack Frost, Pete and I live with the evidence of imagination grounded in the skills of our life-times. Peter Pan so often is associated with the malignant character of 'not growing up.' From my vantage point it matters that I keep the spark of Peter Pan genes alive because oh my godness, harsh reality is ever where.

To close off this Sunday morning post, while the magic of turmeric fuels me, warming those Peter Pan genes here's something that keeps me inspired as I dare to be foolish about my "The Safety Pin Cafe" project. Inventing the Safety Pin

 The safety pin was invention and an improvement of a pin. Both improved and invented by a man named Walter Hunt in New York the year eighteen forty nine. The safety pin is made out of a small piece of metal. This metal in which the safety pin was made was a combination of copper, iron, aluminum, gold, silver, and platinum. These metal were heated and formed into a small piece of combined metals. It all started one afternoon.. Walter Hunt had to think of a way on how to pay back a fifteen dollar debt. He was sitting at his desk just twisting a piece of wire while trying to think of how to pay back his debt. He sat twisting wire for three full hours and realized what he had created. He called it the safety pin. He although did not invent the safety pin he just improved it.
All it took was a piece of wire, imagination, a little time and motivation ...

Here that clapping?  Thanks, J.M. Barrie 








2 comments:

  1. Hello! It's Em, following you over here.

    I'm happy to meet you and look very forward to spending some fun time reading your blog. So far, my interests seem to be similar to yours: astrology, small houses (or vardos!), writing ... so I cannot wait to delve deeper in to your online world.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Aloha and welcome here, Em. Those with common interests and a dose of imagination are very welcome for sure. Make yourself to home, and let me know how it feels...this cyberplace.

    ReplyDelete

Speak from the heart