insert obscure reference here

Photography: Kim Upton 2014 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Photography: Kim Upton 2014
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Last night I read Tarot cards at the Filson Historical Society’s event, Fright Night.  Due to all kinds of things, it was mandatory to take some time off from public performances, teaching classes, and having clients.

Over the past few months there have been allusions to the series of chaos-soul-changing events that brought my life to a dead-stop standstill.  And oh have I longed to tell the story.  To set people right in their imaginations and conversation.  But that proves nothing.  In fact the more you have to prove yourself, the less energy you dedicate to your true path; your soul’s calling.

So today, on Halloween, I lay to rest all the stories that do not need to be told.  The Kansas Lawyer, the lights in the backyard, angry locals with their water-borne fears, and trolls who don’t seem to understand that it is hard work that gets you where you need to be.

Along with that, I make ritual space to clear out all that I’ve allowed to hold me back.

“That crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,

Her soul in division from itself
Climbing, falling She knew not where,
Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship,
Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare
A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing
Heroically lost, heroically found.

No matter what disaster occurred
She stood in desperate music wound,
Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph
Where the bales and the baskets lay
No common intelligible sound
But sang, ‘O sea-starved, hungry sea”
― W.B. Yeats

(image by Mark Dierker)

(image by Mark Dierker)

And really, that is all I gotta say about all ‘dat! :)

If you would like to see me in person, check out the new tabs above – specifically the ones that say: appearances, classes, tarot.

All the love in the world from my heart to yours,
-ku

the secret keeper’s daughter

littlekimmandala

Kim Upton, 2014 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

“Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned.”
― James Joyce

“All families have their secrets, most people would never know them, but they know there are spaces, gaps where the answers should be, where someone should have sat, where someone used to be. A name that is never uttered, or uttered just once and never again. We all have our secrets.”
― Cecelia Ahern

The morning sun has just started to peep over the treetops.  Outside the grass looks like one million tiny stars dancing in unison.

Many years ago, during a powerful healing ritual, I connected to a phrase: “listening woman.”  Google-Land only offered me a book title by Tony Hillerman.  Years and years of research, and still nothing came up.

However, as I come to study my lineage, and meet Kin from other lands, there is a history of my women-folk doing work much like Hillerman’s character.  In fact, modern scholars refer to them as Völva. Not only did they keep secrets, they lived outside the culture doing work (and getting paid pretty well, I might add), and usually had several young understudies that went along.

Now I’m not going to glamorize that path.  Nor do I want to co-opt and ancient culture during this modern life.  My hopes are to understand this tradition and how it works in my life.  How many ancestors of mine walked in the world without worry or fear of what their life calling was?  Near as I can tell, from first-person stories written down, and “channeled” information from family members, the heritage creeping through my bones is pretty intense.

And that is important for me to know, and for me to understand. Also, it is helpful to my children and their future.

It will also help them learn about the proper use of secrets.  In my life “secrets” is not a friendly word.  Too many times the phrase, “this will be our secret” turned out to be extremely painful for me.  Along with that, it was mandatory that I keep secrets.  “We mustn’t tell anyone about this, right?”

While some of you may disagree, for me there are no good secrets.  Not even those that involve surprise birthday parties, or delicious bakery treats.  Anyone that knows me well can tell you that if you whisper to me, and then say, “it’s a secret,” everything after that is a deal breaker.

However, I will keep a confidence.  That is what I do as a Listening Woman.  People who have much heavier secrets will tell them to me in confidence, and I will find the proper resting place for the words.

For some reason this week has been “childhood flashback” week.  It could be the solar flares, the ending of Mercury Retrograde, or the upcoming All Hallows.  It is not a pleasant experience to go through old emotions, fears and thoughts.  Nor does it help me move forward when old tapes are playing in the back of my brain.

This weekend will mark the 16th birthday of my oldest children.  When they were born, I SWORE on all things holy and important to me that by the time they were 16 that I’d no longer carry any of my past into their future.

So today I release my “role” of being the secret keeper’s daughter, and step into my birthright – everyone’s birthright, really – and walk away from long gone entanglements.

And I’m very serious about that.  No more carrying.  Along with that, I won’t need to constantly remind myself that I am okay, or that things in my life have “changed for good.”

laid my burden down
into the sea of healing
fish took it away
– ku 10-30-2014

And that, my friends, is all she wrote for today. <3

All love,
– ku

Kick ‘em when they’re up, when they’re down, when they’re stiff, and all around

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Kim Upton, 2014 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

TO SOME I HAVE TALKED WITH BY THE FIRE
by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,
My heart would brim with dreams about the times
When we bent down above the fading coals
And talked of the dark folk who live in souls
Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;
And of the wayward twilight companies
Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content,
Because their blossoming dreams have never bent
Under the fruit of evil and of good:
And of the embattled flaming multitude
Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,
And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name,
And with the clashing of their sword-blades make
A rapturous music, till the morning break
And the white hush end all but the loud beat
Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.

Come with me into the world, oh Faery child…

Not much today, for it is Wordless Wednesday. :)

a most successful book release event

Katherine Upton, 2014 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Katherine Upton, 2014
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The book release event went well.  I wasn’t nearly as nervous as imagined (in my noggin) during the days proceeding.  It helped that my youngest daughter, who also had her book release that day, was reading as well.

Katherine Upton, 2014 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Many thanks to my daughter Katherine for getting photos during the event.  It is really hard to read and photograph oneself at the same time. :)

There is more to write about the event, and news that is most awesome to share.

For now, however, it is just enough to take a deep breath and roll with a job well done.

:)

-ku

 

my friendship resume – a poem torn apart

Photography: Kim Upton, 2014  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Photography: Kim Upton, 2014
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”
― Rumi

It is my nature to tell folks about my difficulty with something I call “peopling.”  It is where I use Human as a verb, instead of its more proper life as a noun.

Or, to make more sense, it is a way for me to describe how often I miss social cues of the mass culture.  Like sitting in the empty chairs that reside outside the perimeters of the bell curve.

Long ago it was a joke among my family members that I should make a “friendship resume.”  That way any weirdness that came along would be handled in the beginning.  Through lots of laughter, we came up with something that worked.  It also fit on a small business card.  The gist of it was this: “It’s okay with me if you think I’m weird.”

Last night I dreamed about my teeth.  Somehow they factored into returning to school.  There was also great loads of art all around me, with Nature Herself dancing in rhythm to my heartbeat.  Just like that, one of my teeth fell out.  instead of freaking out about it, I was glad.  “More room in my mouth,” I said.  In fact, it was me that wiggled the tooth out.  As I looked down, you could tell that the root had lost its hold, and it was time for the tooth to go.

And, as weird as that may seem to all y’all reading this, the dream was a much needed sign.  A portent of movement that I’ve been waiting for over the past year.

~ The Friendship Resume ~

it is not important to me
for others to know who I am

holy fool in a hair tie
jeans that hang down
feathers and dust mites
flowing down the river

gaggle of kiddos wandering
around all of my soul’s skirts
reckon they know
how to ride the winds

child all alone
can’t seem to sit still
posing en pointe
with pennies in her shoes

l’enfant de mere
sounds better as a song
that birds sing in the fall
as coldness courts their wings

can’t see that far anyway
through old windows
made from greased paper
and larkspur

come away o’ faery childe
indeed
mama’s little baby
love’s shortnin’, shortnin’

hidden for days in shrouds
of forgotten memories
but the magic remains
as the soul prevails

so here is my friendship resume
should you want to come play
the world is an uncertain place
for those who stand alone

my garden is open
the heart is unlocked
mind is full of stories
soul is talking a walk

look over my vitae
and try not to stare
don’t try to fix me
from your broken places

hire me if you wish
my world is loyal and true
but don’t put me in a box
or you will be blue

my wings are unbroken
a song I do sing
about things unspoken
out on a wing

so come with me
and sense my delight
we can be friends
that grow as vines do

my is okay and so is yours
let’s hold hands together and explore the world
– ku 10-24-2014

This is the first draft – of which I’m sure will change.

I love all y’all – truly I do!
~ ku

the masking of a holy fool

Photography: Kim Upton, 2014  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Photography: Kim Upton, 2014
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

“Beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm depend on simplicity – I mean the true simplicity of a rightly and nobly ordered mind and character, not that other simplicity which is only a euphemism for folly.”
― Plato

“What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”
― J.D. Salinger

P1010210b

Digital Art: Kim Upton, 2014 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

On Tuesday mornings my work gets the staccato treatment.  Monday is the only day that does not get writus interruptus-ized. Three to five times a week I am in some kind of health/wellness office with one of my kiddos.  If you think Western Medicine is not a machine that feeds itself, then you are highly delusional.  Or something.

The prescription of “rest” is always given, because it is one of the greatest healers.  But first, see this other specialist, attend this therapy, and take this pill.  One will make you smaller, but the other will make you feel like small bugs are crawling in your hair.  But it is okay, right?  Don’t you want to Feel Better?

In my role as Mother and Wife, I will happily walk through forests of tigers, over miles of cracked rock, with little water in my flask, just to help those I love.

But when the system that helps the sick and weary causes more stress, it is hard to heal the body and mind.

“The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom.”
― Isaac Asimov

Today I’m seeking body independence.  Freedom from the tyranny and injustice of well meaning industrio-complexes.  Life is for living, ‘eh?

masking the holy
in a shroud of bandages
will not bring healing
– ku 10-21-2014