for Misha

stubbornness is the trait i think
we share most in common.
more than mom’s big watery eyes or dad’s pretty smile,
more than their passion (not so far under the surface),
or even their Flare for the dramatic (!).

i am indignantly sad
as i was never allowed before
(that was mom’s job).
[for me: to pretend it didn’t hurt (to see her cry. to feel so helpless) until
maybe i might believe it.
my: Greatest Performance Yet]

i didn’t tell people about you when we were kids,
probably because it was
Easier [well, we never really lived together, so it was Almost Like]
probably because they never
Knew What to Say and
Didn’t Understand.
maybe because it was
Happier and
because then i could half-way believe it too. [Happy.]
Less Complicated (not really).
[did it reflect on Me? did it somehow make Me
Not Good?]

so today i will write you a poem.
the words will be there.
i will. write. you. a poem. and
the words will. be there.
we can laugh about it,
and i can not Give A Shit, just like you never did,
and they can not Understand,
but it won’t matter, just like it never really did.

today i will write you a poem that i can shout to Whoever Cares:
I had a sister. Her name was Misha. A year ago today she died.
I Had A Sister. Her Name Was Misha. A Year Ago Today She Died.
I HAD A SISTER. HER NAME WAS MISHA. A YEAR AGO TODAY SHE DIED.

that stubbornness, to hold out Just Because
you can, even though you know it would be Better to let go.
and just when that last audience member Finally folds their program and exits, you

collapse.





it wasn’t that bad, though, was it?
that Quiet that’s much fuller because of the incessant Noise that came before.

i held your hand, and stroked your face,
your smooth soft ivory skin.
in the Stillness i was there
and drank you in with my eyes.
the mischief in you--
after all the Noise (lightning that racked your insides for thirty-some years),
your lips held the Wink of a smile.

I had a Sister. Her name was Misha. A year ago Today she died.


(soundtrack: Ancestors, by Bjork)
(photo: Transparent)

noodoo

how bout it?
a light summery look,





ideal for air conditioning au natural.

photos: before, and After!
sealion with the instrument of trim, in the kitchen.
in the backyard, the executrix of trim, and the victim.
all new~~shining teeth, a better job, and attracting women who lower their sunglasses his way at intersections.

street faire

it felt like years since we'd had the excuse to play dress up!!























sunday sealion, mackindaddy and i partied in the city at the How Weird Street Faire. christian, who lives in san fran, met us there. it was an excuse for everybody to bring out last year's burning man duds, or to vend *this season's latest* burning man duds. beer in waxed paper cups, throbbing bass from . . five.. different stages, public wafting of the funny weed, and nekkid boobies. wheee! there was a dude wearing only tighty whities (or whitie tighties dependin' on your preference) 100% dripping in brown mud. he pulled it off~~the look, that is.
the boys' favorite was the girl with the beginning of faerie wings tattooed on her back. my favorite were the crepes that we ate at the end of the day, at some creperie in the mission that i don't remember its name b/c i was too busy drooling and then devouring in ecstacy. !!
yea! dress up!! i shore do like it.

photos: mackindaddy and christian amongst the crowd.
sealion sporting new accoutrements new hair, and waxed paper cup.
view at the creperie.
in-car shoe-change photo shoot.
well~ me again. later.

(speakeasy~~the beer. san francisco-brewed. hoppy.)

BYO reusable mug

"you

are

a rockstar.

You are confirmed as a barrista at 7am on Thursday and Saturday!!

Please remember to wear some kind of shoe, and make sure your entire 'panty region' is covered and contained! health codes...

see you in the desert!!

*kisskiss*
~ tisha2
center camp cafe*coffee shop*volunteer tendress"


partaking of that blessedly buzzin cuppa jo on the playa?
well it'll be dolloped with an extra spoonful o love this year, cuz yers trooly is a BurningMan Barrista!!! that's right, folks~~you read it here first!!

this is the only proof i have as of late that my life consists of more than knife cuts (not on my flesh ~~the flesh o the veggies!!), and nutritional info. i haven't been writing to you, Dear Reader, as i have been adjusting to this Full Time Occupation that landed (like a blimp smack-dab in the center-square of downtown! ;-D) in my life. i look at the bookmarks that line the header of my macinternet window. where once tribe, burning man home, WIDE WORLD OF TIF, google maps, and free will astrology covorted fruitily and care-free, "Tea - Health, macro nutrition, Sea Vegetables, NutritionData Calorie Counter, and Farmers Market" have quickly taken up residence. when you tally up my commuting/waiting time with the hours i spend in class, this natural chef course is taking up as much time as a full-time job (how did that ever happen to me?!? you full-time-jobbers chuckle sardonically, i'm sure), not to mention the reading and homework assignments. (there're lifetimes of reading material~ and extracurricular learning experiences!! ~ on the subject. AND I WANNA KNOW IT ALL!!)
loving it. and anticipating more and more each day that first poof of playa powder that rustles under my boot, the sweet sweet finish line!!!
CENTER CAMP CAFE HERE I COME!!!!

photo: waiting in the shade, right before class in berkeley.

illustrated

photos: match the caption with the picture.

me in my "chef duds" in preparation for our (we students') first day in the kitchen.
mr. sealion very handsomely vanna white-ing a meal.
"my first day at school" photo, (for ms. woo-lovely).
in class.
food. comin' outta the oven. this is a yummy concoction of my own imaginings: quinoa with roasted sweet potato, onions, garlic~~and! chopped dates! with a squirt of lime juice.

turning point

i wrote a letter to my lucent dossier family that pretty succinctly sums up this major Fork-in-the-Road that i feel i have successfully navigated. since it says it best, i thought i'd let you read it, and officially share my Big News.
take note: the closing bit, starting with the big-letter parts, hold true for you,~~my extend-a-family here at WIDE WORLD OF TIF, too!!

my loves~
it's time for me to share some good news with you from the Land of Tif:
i'm attending "natural chef" school at Bauman College in berkeley (look it up! www.baumancollege.com/ it's coo-ool!!).
this is a holistic nutrition school, and the program i am in is an intensive, five-month training program. very hands-on and roll-up-yer-sleeves.
over the winter i had been all-inward-looking, imploring of the universe to give me direction, and trying very hard to love myself and be patient. feeling very much at the end of my rope~~and losing my grip~~i pleaded for help: anything! something? pLeAse? and the universe gave me a word, "food." the last time i met with you wonderluvlies (at rehearsal) was later that same day. i let this sit and waited with open hands. within the weekend, opportunities were presented, connections were made, and i had found the website for bauman college. i received their info in the mail, and ~with uncanny-perfect timing~ was able to enroll for the spring course that began THE NEXT DAY(!), the 5-month course finishes the weekend before burning man. the timing could not have been more perfectly suited to my life at this exact moment.
troy is very supportive and excited, and i LOVE class so much i can barely sleep at night!! this feels so right, i can't even tell you. i feel as if i've truly finally fully returned to my self (after how many years?), and can finally dig in to my life's calling.
i feel so grounded, and deeply satisfied~~and invigorated in the way you feel as you're *nailing* that choreography onstage and everyone's loving it, only the feeling doesn't go away when i get offstage.
SO, i'm gonna be very much absorbed in this process for the next 5 months, attending classes 3 days a week and becoming a kick-ass natural chef. i'm going to be very envious of your magical process and adventures, but i feel so good about where i am at in my life that i will be all-smiles from the audience.
I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! YOU INSPIRE ME MOMENT-BY-MOMENT!! KEEP BE-ING IT! KEEP LIVING IT!!
i love sharing this life with you~~the beautiful family i created for myself from my own heart. what perfection!!
kisses, elf-luvins, and abundant magical light~
~tif


muchas muchas gracias(!!!) to: ms. woo-lovely and "milsey" for their open hearts, listening ears, dreaming and scheming!
my favorite gYrl for her professional recommendation, and eternal support,
brer, once again, for the safe landing-pad, the idea bouncer-of-back, and Everything,
and!! my sweetest sealion!! for his patience and love and support even in the not-understanding parts of this drippy rainy season process, for his unending encouragement and enthusiasm and "bouyant" spirit. i marvel that you have stuck around, but i sure am glad!!

the door, part TWO

yeah~~
remember when i let you in on my over-protective schpiel about that dirty storage room and the cats? that they always peeeer under the door and fantacize about getting to the other side, because they can sMeLL the mischief to be had there?

WELL. i was right.

this morning, just shy of 5am, i am yanked to consciousness by that back-o-the-neck, goosebump primeval noise: yowwwwwoOOWWW!!" "YOWWWWW!!! SSSSSSSS!!! SSSSSS!!!" and the sound of a fur-flying ruckous. great.
"guys, what's going on?" i call from bed, clap my hands (our disciplinary correction) and pull the covers back over my head wishing that the problem would go away of its own accord. no, not that lucky.
"YOWWWW!!!!! sssss! SSSSS!!" it's kitty, i can tell; i've heard this one before. i throw back the covers and make my way in the dark to see that kitty has scrambled in retreat under a fabric hanging that covers the wall behind troy's desk. rodolfo is batting antagonistically at the goofy lump she makes under the fabric. i clap my hands to get him to move, and flick on the light. as soon as he leaves the cowering, growling lump-o-kitty, rodolfo~~still bushy-tailed,~~slinks over to "the door" that leads to that drafty dark dirty storage room. he lowers his head so that the crack under the door is eye level, and sniff-sniff-sniffs.

oh. so that's what's going on; there's a visitor in the storage room. uck. i try NOT to imagine what it might be on the other side. . a rat.. a possum.. ~~a person wouldn't cause this kitty freak-out session (they'd just hide in the closet); this could mean only one animal as far as i can remember. . . i crouch down, in nuthin-but-my-socks, swallow, and do my version of The Rodolfo~~i squint one eye, and look through the crack under the door. there he is, sitting on his haunches right beside bri's suitcase: a tomcat. looking over at us. he seems young; he's petite and buzzing with energy even as he sits. black and white spotted, with long-ish fur. i haven't seen him around here during the day. he must indeed be "on the prowl."
knowing at least what i'm up against, i swat rodolfo out of the way (who, of course, is always happy to let someone else do the dirty work. about the only thing he's "good" for is mangling small crickets.. ) and open the door. the tom is gone in a flash. i hear him scrambling past some empty boxes, and~~i imagine~~out the hole through which he entered.

snoozing in the breezy windowsill, the cats have just now calmed down after being on-edge all morning. kitty acting stricken and "violated" all the while. rodolfo practicing his suavest old-west style slink-n-prowl.

SEE??!! i told you i didn't trust the dark drafty corners of that storage room!! we'll have to see what the Misters Handymen can do about fixing that hole..

here i am!

ok! here i am!
thank you for your patience, those who have inquired. i had to take a break. again. scratch into my burrow and hunker down and peer out everyonce inna while and just wait it out.
the rain is still coming, more intermittently now, but it's a warm rain. and when the sun shines~~things are growing!!
i sit here in the studio at "the" 510 and bathe in the sunshine like that black kitty-o-mine. where is she? she must be gettin' into mischief if she's not taking advantage of this sunlight. . i hear the rustling of that sweet sealion as he stirs from sleep and it's a gorgeous, glorious morning.
i have much to share, and a back-log of stories and pictures. and they just keep on comin! let's see how we do. . . first off~~i'd like to officially direct you to My Other Blog ("my other blog is a porsche" i like the one: "my other car is a broomstick"): food-a-file, as that will play a Newly Major Role in my continuing story. if i have my way, you'll be seeing a lot of me there. . .. i not so savvy with the workings of Blogger.. . i tend to mess-things-up when i try to do anything more than write blog and enter photo, so i guess you will just have to VIEW MY COMPLETE PROFILE (which, speaking of messing-things-up, is now at the BOTTOM of WIDE WORLD OF TIF~~ha!!) to find food-a-file. .. ;-P
glad to be back.

and more gratitude

here's to friends who nurture us, encourage us, and give us a platform to BE our highest and brightest selves.

AND here's to great fun with great friends. :)

blessings

today i would like to send an extra special thank-you out to the universe for this man. i am beside myself with awe at how our friendship is able to evolve and grow in such a beautiful way. brer, your friendship and steadfastness, nonjudgment and encouragement are cosmic life-support to this wayfaring seeker. in my adventurous ambitious scary psychospiritual galacti-pades, you are a planet where i always know it's safe to land.


how frickin lucky am i?
yeah; that lucky.

birthday boy

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!















~~to sealion, my beautiful love and journey companion.


soundtrack: that one bhangra song.

giving thanks

michael franti's words from Stay Human keep rolling through my head:






"i'm givin' thanks for bein' human every morning."


yeah. glad to be here.


photo: the NON-humans in my life charge their solar collectors on this glorious morning.

games.. and love?

"learn to recognize the SMELL of your OWN BULLSHIT."

i remember loud and clear. my several-time professor and long-time mentor, James Baker Hall (K-Y poet laureate~you can look him up. most of his stuff is really dark and sad.** photographer, too), pronounced this so many times in our round-table autobiography-writing classes. fluffy white brows furled, eyes bugging from glasses perched low on his nose, fingers dancing in space for extra emphasis. i will never forget the way he said that last word, "bool-she-it", rolling it around in his Kentucky-bred-and-raised mouth. maybe as if it were a gristly piece of country ham, tangy and potent and persistent. he got the point across. many times our lives are too painful, too ugly, too raw for us to bear to be present. we let go of the reins, and let autopilot take control. but we owe it to ourselves to tell our story. in the telling is the healing. and in the telling it is VITAL to get it straight~~to be responsible, and true. now, any good storyteller is going to weave her own spin. but may it be clear: that even though it's her side of the story, she is being honest to her own gut. to the way her heart knows the truth.
from the buddhist way of understanding, i am learning that lots of times our whole adult lives are spent in that autopilot non-awake zone. that the truth about living itself is too raw for us to bear: that things are constantly changing. that the objects and relationships and ways we identify ourselves that make us feel good one day, will not be that way the next. we try to hold onto something, to make it concrete, just as it melts and melds in its ever-changing liquidness. to be awake to this is risky, and the ultimate goal.

i feel like i've been catching myself at my own games recently.
have you been the recipient of this? i'm almost certain you have..

even though i come in a pleasant (for the most part. . ), well-intentioned package, i'm realizing again and again more and more that my motivations aren't what i thought they were. if i even thought to consider them before (not sure).
Thich Nhat Hanh's words keep coming to me over and over again lately, "what ARE you doing?" [my emphasis (thanks, Beth! :)] i feel like i should cloister myself (WITHOUT my cyber-pacifier) for a long while, or send myself out into the wilderness somewhere (no snow, please..) to be alone (with the trees and squirrels), and at least only manipulate myself.
it is a new venture for me: to see with compassion. i try to keep in mind the food for thought that Dar sent out~~that in essence, with every action, every one of us is desiring either to give, or to receive love. i look around~~at people, and their interactions, their games, their choices, and i try to see this dance of give and take. love love love.
i try to see this in myself. and i think, "awww, honey," as the little girl in me once again curtseys to win applause, as the adult in me tries to feed that hole, superficially, for the mean-time, pushing the same empty pleasure button. feeling like no more than a blinky spastic chemical ball that's just looking to get that next fix. only now as i reach ~ i'm stuttering~~"what ARE you doing?" i batter myself with this over and over throughout the day (sounds like a compassionate exchange, huh?) and am very tired by the end of the day. .. and then having dreams that are detailed and visceral. judgmental characters from my past come to scrutinize me as i apply makeup backstage. women who don't know me comment about how stinky my b.o. is.

i suppose that it's better that i'm seeing my own games, seeing the way i may be bullshitting myself (and, in turn many times~~you). that this is a step in the right direction, on the path i wish to travel. i'm showing up sometimes. sometimes in mid-movement, mid-sentence, mid-drama.
so if you notice this~~and feel a sudden lurch or swerve~~perhaps you might gently understand that it's just me, learning to drive without autopilot.

**i tend to disagree with him, in that: he left no room for humor. this was avoidance, in his eyes. to me, it seems to be a necessary survival skill. .

photo: me. today. here, but worn out.

thank you

"awww, maaaan, it's rainin'!"

rainy day!
rain all day..
ain't no use in gettin' uptight,
just let it
groove its own way
let it rain
your worries away.
lay back and DREAM!
on a rainy day!

had to do it. thanks, jimi. ..
ahhhhhh.

as soon as we got up this morning, sealion and i agreed pretty easily to doin' nothin'. gloomy rainy cold sunday. perfect for tall bloody marys with extra olives (what sunday isn't perfect for this, some may say! learned that from my blessed jiggley hipped sisters!! cheers to mz. goodvibes. and delicious melicious for adding the nutmeg. i remember a particularly beautiful sunny morning at mecca years ago when we had a large group rehoysal complete with the marys of blood that pretty melicious did makest for ussest. .. i digress and ramble still. ) and a movie (and cinnamon toast!! .. but they don't really taste good together. .. the butter gums up the dvd player, too.. ;-D ) (All the President's Men ~~ Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman ~~ a goody ) (let's see how many parentheses i can use.. ) (perhaps fill up this whole small paragraph with long parenthetical asides.. . ). (sealion was asleep before the burglars were even caught by the police.. oh no!! i gave away part of the plot!!! :-D ) (that is my favorite new typographic icon: the open-mouthed laughey-face. so friendly! :-D ) ("duuude, wake up and drink another bloody!!")
so the day dripped by cozy and relaxed into the night (although you could argue whether it was "daytime" at all, considering the sun never really came out.. ). and the time came: grocery run. el caballero negro took me splish-splash windshield-wipe on over to the co-op and i took my sweet rainy-day time luxuriating over the choices of whole wheat pasta and variety of nut-milks. .. (can you tell i've gotten to the "boredom" section of the evening?) and a sweet treat for the ride home. groceries bagged, treat in pocket, and out the automatic doors. i hunkered down against the dark rain and did the awkward-shopper-shuffle as i negotiated all the bags into one hand and dug in my purse for the keys with the other hand. walking walking, to el caballero who was parked on the street (just past the parking lot).
"scuse me! scuse me!" a woman's clear strong voice shouted from behind me. "mam, scuse me!" and i gotta admit to you, sadly enough~~there are so many folks asking for change around here (not just in LA or SF) that it is already easy for me to keep on walking. but, i reasoned, on this rainy night~~not too many are that eager. i turned around to see if she was shouting to me. a woman walked pointedly my way down the sidewalk, "do you need a ride??" she said. my figurative jaw dropped. "no, no," i replied, "i'm parked on the street. thanks so much for offering. you are so generous!!" under the street light i could see her smile, and we went our ways into the soaked darkness.

to that woman, i would like to extend a warm, dry, happy-bellied, "thank you."

music

the auditory landscape of WIDE WORLD OF TIF, as of late. ..
thanks to a fork in the road by Cheb i Sabbah (Krishna Lila), i've been on a world-music journey recently. lots of sampler albums, with a few specific artists.
Six Degrees 100, and Six Degrees Remixed (the latter is lots of times too electronic-y for me. i'm sure electronofiles probably know how to classify further, but i just know it's too much. )
this led me to Karsh Kale, and his album, Liberation. electronic and danceable.
after that, it has been all-world, not electronically mixed, with a duo of samplers from many countries that feature some really precious from-the-heart evocative vocals: An Introduction to Amiata's Secret World, volumes one and two. a few very dancey, lots just tastey to listen to..
from there, Meeting of Angels by Ensemble Gilles Binchois & Ustad Nishat Khan~~which is choral music and varying Indian stringed instruments and tabla. ethereal and meditative.
then: Kirwani ~ Essence of a Raag, by Krishna Bhatt and Zakir Hussain. sitar and tabla. mmmm. rich and luxurious.

fanatic

while i'm doing these commercial slots it seems i just can't help but do, i gotta rave about that lovely, frickin brilliant, Paul Newman. i've been in love with him for years, and who wouldn't be~~those twinkly mischief-filled eyes that could be taken so seriously if he weren't so damn hilarious. yup. i think he's the greatest. and then there's his food company: Newman's Own. . not only does he have those eyes and that grin~~he loves to COOK!!
well, he has been making these gourmet products (and now his daughter has an organic line) that are high-end, but high-quality. they taste good, and each product has its own silly story on the back in Mr. Newman's signature mischievous- ridiculous voice. and here's the thing~~he gives all the money from Newman's Own to charities. over 200 million by now!!
yup.
http://www.newmansown.com

It's Soy Delicious

i've discovered a frozen indulgence that i can live with. my problem with most non-dairy frozen treats (pretend ice cream) is that they replace the yummy creaminess and fat of the ice cream we all love with a bunch of sugar~~it might be organic, but it's still sugar. It's Soy Delicious has varieties (like the chocolate-peanut butter that i smile at right now) that are sweetened with fruit juice, brown rice syrup, and the like, which are much gentler sweeteners than good ol' sugar. the other ingredients are also natural foods you can pronounce. It's Soy Delicious has just enough fat in it not to feel empty, and doesn't have as much of that weird, "this just isn't ice cream~~what are you trying to get me to eat?" flavor of some non-dairy brands. (granted, if you eat the whole pint, it's still decadent, but not AS bad.)
hold on a second!! this sounds like i'm saying "if you HAVE to eat non-dairy, this stuff's not THAT bad.. " and i'm saying, there are lots of yummy veggie-vegan products that are still REALLY high in fat, and (especially) sugar. this is a yummy frozen dessert that isn't.

and. . if you turn the container around, you'll see that it says that the distributor, Turtle Mountain, Inc., donates funds to the Sea Turtle Restoration Project ( www.seaturtles.org and www.turtlemountain.com ).

sad shadow

today i invited Sad Shadow to go for a walk with me.



i knocked on her door and she answered. she was still in her pj's.
i said, "Hi, Sad Shadow! come outside and go for a walk with me!"
Sad Shadow said she might as well; she had nothing better to do.
it was a sunshine-pretty day. the sun felt warm on my back.
Sad Shadow said she hoped she didn't get a sunburn.
there were flowers blooming everywhere! and oranges hanging in the trees.
Sad Shadow noticed an orange on the ground that was rotten.
we stopped at a cafe and ate a cookie. it was yummy cinnamon flavor.
Sad Shadow said her half was dry and crumbly.
we walked by the park where there were lots of kids playing. doing cartwheels and shouting and laughing.
i said, "hey, Sad Shadow, that looks like fun! let's go play!!"
Sad Shadow said she wasn't very coordinated.
we picked some flowers on the way home. they were yellow and smelled like springtime.
i said, "these would look great on the table in a vase!"
Sad Shadow said she bet they would wither and attract flies.
when we got back, i walked Sad Shadow to her door.
i said, "maybe we'll go for a walk again sometime."
Sad Shadow said, maybe, because she didn't have any other friends.

the story of Sad Shadow is dedicated to Brer and Alyssum.

do-over!!

Ever wish for do-over days, tif? You know, hit the reset button and give 'er another shot?

Cool.

Will today work?

It's never too late,
The Universe
[this was my "note from the Universe" today. . ]

today
i'm sick of "process."
and if anyone tells me that "life is the journey, not the destination,"
i might just stomp on their foot.
today i want things to be simple~~for real.
no ambiguity
no hippie dippie mumbo-jumbo
no relativity.
black and white
this or that.
and i want to be on the "that" side.
i want there to be a Right Answer,
and for someone to share it with me.
i want "When everything's all said and done,"
to be said and done, and i want to be on the team that wins.
while i'm at it, i want everything
that tastes good be good for me.
everything that feels good be right.
i want the light at the end of the tunnel to be sunshine.
the moral at the end of the story to make sense.
i want to be the one who chuckles
~~huh huh huh!~~
convivially to her partner
and rides off into the sunset.

and, yes~~today~~
i do want fries with that.