Dog Medicine

(This was written a few years ago, repost by request...)

I just had the trippiest experience. Last night as I was coming home, I noticed a dog in the middle of the street. Big white dog, bit bigger than a lab, with a brown squishy face, and deep brown eyes. A group of teenagers were telling him to go home, but it just kept limping along. As I pulled into the driveway, he came over and was real friendly, wearing a busted collar, fixed with duct tape, and no tag. I told him to go home, but it just looked confused & whined at me. I thought hmm, dog medicine, what message are you bringing me today?

I went inside & called Animal Control, but just got the machine. I went for a walk, and coming back, the dog was in the middle of California street, about to get hit by a car! I hurried over, and took him back to my house. My neighbor said she had seen him wandering around the day before too.

I put the dog in the backyard, much to the cat's dismay. I gave him some water and cat food, which he ignored, much to my surprise. He put his nose in my lap and left the biggest puddle of drool imaginable. Yuck.

He had a sore on his leg, and kept shaking and then would collapse. I called Animal Control again, and this time got through, and they said they'd send someone right over. A few minutes later the dispatcher called back, and asked me if I would drive the dog over to the 24 hour vet/clinic in Soquel, since they were about to go off shift. Having nothing better to do, I said sure.

The dog hopped into the car pretty easy, but it was one BIG dog, and right away was spattering the car with drool. I mean, it was GROSS - I pulled a towel from the back to drape over the seat & hand brake, but literally, it was just streaming out of his mouth, in huge puddles along the dash, and my right arm.

Since it was around six, I didn't want to take the freeway, so I took Soquel all the way in to avoid traffic. Around Morrissey, I was just freaking on how much the dog was drooling, when I realized, it wasn't drooling - it was foaming. It was foaming at the mouth. Suddenly I remembered being told as a child never to approach friendly wild life, like a raccoon or squirrel, because it meant one thing. Rabies.

Yes, I was in a car, with a dog, with RABIES!

I had been talking to the dog all along, petting his head and reassuring it, and now I started singing. I knew if I went into fear, the dog would know and maybe bite me. Part of my mind was calculating how to pull over, stop the car, and get the hell out. Another part was so glad I just got my new health insurance card, and Dominican Hospital was on the way. I'd always heard that rabies shots hurt real bad because they do it your stomach.

So instead of going into fear, I went into love, and just kept singing to the dog, a little nonsense tune how if this dog was my dog, his name would be gazpacho. "Spacho dog, Spacho dog" I sang. He just kept drooling beyond belief, and looking at me with trusting eyes. He would sit up, and then collapse against me. I pet his head, thinking about how rabies eats the brain. Poor thing.

I got to the vet clinic, and Spacho tried to run across the street again. I took him in, and they said they would have to put him down in order to test for rabies. I went home and cried. Poor little Spacho dog. It was just a tangent in my day, but for some reason I was a part of his path, at the end of his journey.

Dog medicine: loyalty, friendship, trust. I'm glad I knew Spacho, because as a cat woman, I really wanted nothing to do with him at first, but now I am glad to have had a dog friend today, and to have been a friend in return.

Blessed Be.

(written in 2005)

Divine Order

Divine Order,

Take charge of my life
Today and everyday

All things work together
For good for me today

This is a new and beautiful day
There will never be another one like it

I am divinely guided all day long
And whatever I do will prosper

Divine love,
Enfold me, surround me, enrapt me
And I will go forth in peace

I am going to be a marvelous success
in all of my undertakings

And I am going to be happy
from now on…

Blessed Be!

Celebrating Pixie: The Pamela Coleman Smith Commemorative Tarot Set

US Games systems has just released the eagerly anticipated The Pamela Coleman Smith Commemorative Set in celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Rider-Waite Tarot deck. What a delicious set! Quite simply gorgeous, starting from the beautiful keepsake box it comes in, the cards printed on heavy card stock, and the details like the ribbon ties, all make this a scrumptious set, whether for the complete novice or the avid collector.

Upon opening the box, the left side has two books, post cards and prints, the right side containting the cards. The postcards and prints are delightful. Four large over sized postcards includes black and white portrait of Pamela. The six smaller postcards include a copy of The Empress. A card layout sheet is included, with a 5 Card Love Spread, 3 Card Relationship Spread, and the traditional Celtic cross layout called the Woven Spread.

The books include The Pictorial Key to the Tarot by Arthur Waite, a nice, sturdy edition with Temperance on the cover. The 78 card Smith-Waite Centennial Edition Tarot Deck is reproduced from the original 1909 deck, and includes a lovely draw string organza bag. The deck itself seemed dark to me at first, but after playing with it, it seems easy on the eyes, reminding me of the gentle coloring in Mary Hanson-Roberts deck. Thick, sturdy, the cards have an English Rose on a pale blue background for the backs.

But the real delight was The Artwork and Times of Pamela Colman Smith by Stuart R. Kaplan. This little book is rich with insights into Pamela's (known as Pixie to her friends) inspirations, friendships, and collaborations as well as an extensive collection of artwork.

Over a hundred examples of her non-tarot art are featured. Simple line drawings in a wood block style tug at my heart while the more richly embellished illustrations are more evocative, from the cover for the Cases of Sherlock Holmes to The Annacy Stories - Folk Stories from Jamaica. I learned that "a distinctive feature in Smith's work is the union of foreground and background; although perspective is used, the background is as important visually as the foreground" (pg. 19).

Smith's book The Annacy Stories was published in 1899, which has been described by Thomas Nelson Page (1853-1922) as "perhaps the most original contribution to Negro folklore since Uncle Remus" (pg 30). One of my favorite illustrations is from the full color frontispiece for the book In the Valley of Stars There is a Tower of Silence, a Persian Tragedy by Smara Khamara. Many of the reproductions are from Mr. Kaplan's private collection- I only hope it is reprinted as a coffee table book one table so the lavish illustrations can be seen even better.

William Butler Yeats is credited with influencing Smith's work and introducing her to the order of the Golden Dawn. "Although Smith's art was heavily influenced by Symbolist art, it cannot be defined in terms of a school or movement. It is the outpouring of a highly original and expressive imagination. The figures often evoke the magical aura of the legendary days of chivalry, but they don't belong to a specific time or place. There appearance is as elusive as the setting in which they are placed" (pg 38).



In 1909 Arthur Waite commissioned Pamela to create a tarot deck, as he thought that adding images to the forty pip cards would be more meaningful. The earliest known extant examples of illustrated pips are part of the Sola-Busca deck, which origniated in the 15th century in Ferrara or Venice. However, Waite still placed more emphasis on the major arcana, allowing Pamela more freedom in designing the minor arcana. "The designs in the Rider-Waite deck exemplify what Smith sought to express in all her paintings and drawings: mysticism, ritual, imagination, fantasy and a deep experience of the emotions felt, but not always understood, in everyday life" (pg 78).

Smith was activist, joining the Suffrage Atelier in London, an organization dedicated to promoting women's right to vote. Never married, instead Pixie lived with her companion Mrs. Nora Lake who moved in with her in 1926 and stayed until her death. The book ends with an appendix with an article by Smith on "Should the Art Student Think" for the Craftsman Illustrated Monthly magazine. She writes, "Learn from everything, see everything, and above all, feel everything! And make other people when they look at your drawing feel it too... (even) through ugliness is beauty sometimes found"(pg.99).

A beautiful gift for yourself or a loved one, this is a set to savor. I'll be teaching my six week Journey through the Tarot class this summer at Twin Lakes College and will definitely encourage my students to consider The Pamela Coleman Smith Commemorative Set. This deluxe set is going to be release on May 15, 2009. Available locally at Bookshop Santa Cruz or Gateways, you can also order direct from US Games Systems or your local independent bookstore.

Bras for a Cause

Here's my entry for:

Bras for a Cause -
Sponsored by the
Soroptimist International
Capitola-By-The-Sea

Saturday May 30, 2009!
1st Congregational Church Hall
900 High Street, Santa Cruz
4:00 pm

Don't miss your chance to be a part of this exciting event.

Decorate And Enter A One-of-a-Kind Bra

Make it Beautiful Make it Wild and Wacky Win Wonderful Prizes

Attend the “Bras For A Cause” Gala Reception On May 30, 2009

Enjoy a Gallery Showing of Bras Bid On Your Favorites In The Live And Silent Auctions Enjoy Fabulous Food And Drinks

All proceeds from “Bras for a Cause” will provide services
for women in Santa Cruz County through these organizations:

Gemma

WomenCARE

Soroptimist International
Capitola-By-The-Sea

---

My theme is The Universal Mother. Embellished with seashells, rose quartz, cowrie shells, crystal hearts, silver goddess pendents, faux pearls, pearl buttons, and a plethora of beads and glitter. What I like most is the contrast between the center Cameo and the enamel cloisonne Minoan Snake Goddess which seems to speak of the classic Madonna/Whore dichotomy. One side has The Goddess of Laussel, the pregant Great Mother. The other side has Australian huntresses, fierce maiden warriors. Spiralling out of the nipples are thin wires coiled and beaded, ending in moon & stars made from Austrian crystal, the universal milky way spilling from the breasts of the goddess.

Hope to see you at the auction!

Thoughts on Neighbors

After a windy, stormy week, I came home last Wednesday to discover one of the enormous branches of my Chinese Elm had ripped and broken. It had narrowly missed the roof, broken some of the birch branches, and was smashing the jasmine, ferns and Camila by the side of the house. I looked at in wonder, noticing that the whole tree had shifted - if I removed the branch, the other side might topple too.

Last night's rain let Nature do the pruning for me - another huge branch lay in the street. Thank goodness no one was parked - let alone walking - there. I walked out of the house this morning armed with my clippers, snoppers, and 16" Remington. Yes, I am a woman with a chainsaw, watch out.

Overwhelmed but undaunted, I thought of the Helen Keller quote "I am only one but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something..." I figured it would take 3 to 4 days to clear the debris, depending of course on the weather. As I began laboriously to alternate between chainsawing the larger branches into firewood and kindling, the smaller pieces into piles for the dump and piles for mulch, I began to attract the attention of the neighbors.

First came Drunky the Clown, my creepy neighbor who offered to fell the whole tree and chop it into firewood for a twelve pack. "No thanks" I said, thinking, I would have paid him a hundred bucks easy if he had asked for money, but it was so tawdry his request for beer. Not only was it not worth it to contribute to his alcoholism, the thought of spending an afternoon together gave me the serious heebie jeebies.

Next came Ben, a tattooed hulk of a man who lives up the street, coming home from his daily run. We bantered about fitness, biking, and Zumba. "You could ask Scott to help" he quipped, flexing his muscles.

"Yeah, he already offered, but I've already decided that I can chop wood, carry water, drink beer" I said. "Of course, I won't drink beer till after I'm done with the chainsaw."

Ben laughed and asked me to go out dancing sometime. "Sure," I said, "They have salsa at the wharf on Sundays." Meanwhile, thinking, okay Coyote, what is this about?

Next came Christine, who kindly offered her husband's help when he came back from taking the boys to a birthday party. I love a neighbor willing to volunteer her spouse, but I wondered how Marcus would feel about it. Anita, who feeds all the cats on the street, stopped to give her two cents, but I also knew that she would be watching me the rest of the day from her front window. Don't get me wrong - Anita is not really a nosy neighbor but a guardian angel, watching to make sure I was okay, weilding a power saw and all.

By now I had filled two green cycle cans as well as creating three more slash piles to eventually haul to the dump, and had created enough kindling to last at least a few winters. It was about 2pm when I stopped to make some fresh coffee, eat a banana and some rye crackers. I started thinking about Feng Shui and how this corner of the yard fell into the helpful people section of the Bagua. "What am I supposed to learn from this?" I wondered. "Let there be a clearing in all my helpful beings, visible and invisible. Let me be a helpful being to my friends and neighbors, clients and community. Let me be open to receiving help now" I prayed.

"Do you want to borrow my double blade saw?" a friendly voice broke my reverie. "Hi, I'm Bill. We have a brand new baby!" My new neighbor was beaming all over. I introduced myself, congratulating him on the family addition, and welcomed his assistance. For someone with a brand bew baby, he had a lot of energy. Maybe he figured it was karma - his wife had just labored, so should he.

My hands were sore from the vibrating chain saw, my shoulders cramped from the weight, my jaw tense as I kept reminding myself to let the saw do the work, let gravity do it's job, and keep that scary churning saw blade away from my body, away from my body. I continued to work when Marcus drove up, boys and helium balloons a plenty in the minivan. "What happened?" His kind face concerned. I explained for the umpteenth time the top heavy trees, the storm, the fact that I would have been gardening anyway today, just never imagined this huge of a project.

I thought about the fact that my ex and I planted trees each year on our anniversary, and that interestingly enough, all five had died in the last year. Another Chinese Elm had its roots eaten by gophers and fell into neighbors yard. I cut down three Liquid Ambers when I discovered their roots had grown into my plumbing, causing close to $8000 in repairs last year. And now this one, ripped to shreds by the proverbial winds of change.

I thought about being a gardener and the need to prune things back for fresh growth, a metaphor for my life, my career, my relationships. I remembered when my Dad was going through chemo for lymphatic cancer, now over ten years ago. I wrote a poem then:


My Dad’s 67th Birthday

I pruned the apple tree
Way back, I said
Bare bones

My father laughed
Slipped off his black wool fishers hat
His skull pale and waxy
Wisps of gray hair, survivors of this blasted land, or
fresh growth struggling to rejuvenate
replenish, refoliate

Me too, he whispered
Bare bones

March 1998

Bill showed up his big ass, gas powered double blade that put my puny Remington to shame. He showed me the clutch and how to fire it up, but I'm sure he saw how intimidated I really felt. "Where should we chop it?" he asked, and proceeded to rock my arbor world. I don't know if I've ever met a sweeter man. So sincere, so helpful. Marcus took over the snoppers while another neighbor appeared with a green cycle can, and in less than two hours the whole tree was gone. They literally saved me days of work, Bill even offering to do a dump run for me.

Unfortunately, Drunky the Clown would circle around every ten minutes on his bike and harass us. A stick got caught in his bike wheel, whacking his shin, and he began to threaten to sue me. He was so irate and bitter, ranting on how he had just talked to Ben about me, annoyed that I had agreed to a date when he had been bringing me chocolate covered macadamia nuts from Hawaii every Christmas for the last four years, and wasn't I gay, anyways? Whatever. His bitterness was such an interesting contrast to my other neighbors sweetness, their sheer kindness in helping me out today.

Now I'm exhausted, sitting on the couch contemplating the new view from the window, thinking about giving and receiving help, thinking about pruning things back for fresh growth, thinking about what to make for dinner. Mostly, I have a sense of this is how peace on earth can happen - one neighbor at a time.