Basement Venue Emerges from the Dust

This week has been all about preparing the basement of the Holy Road House for the upcoming C3 show, as mentioned in earlier blogs. But tonight it really came together. The PA and monitors are in place and tested, though my monitor amp doesn't seem to work. But I can borrow one for the show, so no worry. The Holy Road Gardeners gathered tonight for some of Lizzie's great soup and Pam's rice casserole, then we all went downstairs and found ways to improve the space. The result is just amazing. In a couple of hours or so, we put up lights, installed dividers and curtains around unsightly fixtures like the furnace, and best of all, cleaned up and organized the outer pantry/laundry area.

Our new friend Tim came by to see about hanging some of his art work on the walls for this Saturday's show. Word is they are black-light friendly, which fits the mood of the basement as well as C3 performance style. More about that on Friday when he brings his art over and hangs it.

The news of the week for me is that we (Denise, her mom and brother and I) are booked to fly to Hawaii on July 18 for Joni's wedding and two weeks in paradise. It's one adventure after another around here these days.

Lizzie loaned me a book I had read probably thirty years ago and which arguably changed my life then: Illusions by Richard Bach, author of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. I can't put it down. It's the story of a reluctant messiah who barnstorms the Midwest US with a biplane, giving ten-minute rides to rural townspeople for $3.00 each. The book is once again making my brain glow a bright orange and may, as it has done before, leave me at least temporarily incapable of feeling negative about anything. It, like so much media I find today (but this book is thirty years old!) is affirming the C3 core concept: thoughts are things. We create our own reality. What amazing times to live in as the stew pot of transcendence grows to a boil.

Stormy Weather, Sort Of

Yesterday and today it rained off and on. Brief but intense showers followed by sunshine. It reminded me a lot of my days on the island of Guam in the south Pacific, where this happened often, almost every day. A sudden overcast, a brief furious blast of water from the sky, followed almost immediately by sun and clear sky.

Yesterday I ran errands on my scooter and got all wet. Drenched. Today I did the same thing. I rode a long way across town to get groceries under increasingly darkening skys. While in the store it apparently rained - briefly. When I came out, it had stopped and I was able to ride home again without getting anything more than an occassional spatter.

Saturday I received the DVD of "The Secret" I had ordered. Very cool. Funny and cool and oh so true in the ways that are important. So I should admit that, before I left today to get groceries, I put an image in my mind: I would ride to the store and back and would return dry. Did it work? You bet it did. Okay, I know how silly that sounds, and you could be right. If I had held in idea in my mind: "Today I will not be attacked by a werewolf!", and if I had made it through the day without getting attacked by a werewolf, could I claim that I created that reality?

But I know on so many levels that it's true: we create our own reality with our thoughts. It was the rather sudden realization that this is really true, that it really works whether we mean it to or not, that we must learn to take responsibility and learn to focus and control our thoughts and feelings in order to bring into existance the best reality we can for ourselves and the world -- that was the moment I was inspired to create the Convergence Conspiracy Collective - a union of artists and musicians who were willing to at least entertain that notion, and to celebrate it loudly.

Mike Clark and Lizzie and Baba and I finished mud daubing the kitchen walls tonight. Tomorrow we sand and prime, and paint them a lovely basil-pesto green the day after that. It's fun working together on a project to improve our space, make the Holy Road House, the Tumbleweed Hotel, an even more inviting and livable space.

Truth is I found myself spacing out while doing the work, and wondering why. Then I realized I was replaying old, old programs instilled in me when I was very young. I dislike doing wall work because it takes me back to when my dad pushed me hard to do it, though I felt clumsy and inadequate at it and really wanted to be off hiking the woods or writing stories or playing with my mates. Childish reactions to my dad's efforts to discipline me into productive work. So feelings of sluggishness and mild guilt kept creeping up on me. It's unusual for me to feel that way about anything. I take the experience as part of a healing process - part of discovering and acknowledging those old scripts and reactions and replacing them, healing them, forgiving myself and my dad for my childish irresponsibilities.

My my. The lessons keep on keeping on. Learning every day. I love this life!

Three Howlers In One Day

One of the signs of right livelihood is that progress seems to get easier. Successes come, when they come, with the ease of a perfect dumpling sliding down one's throat. Today validated that for me not once, but three times.

First, I finally managed to get up early - 6 a.m. - and get down to writing at Lakota (my favorite spot so far) well before 7. The short story I started a couple of days ago demanded to be continued. I wrote for maybe an hour, but something was wrong. I couldn't see what happened to my character past a certain point, and it was turning into yet another internal monologue, another pseudo-journal entry. So I stopped. Slightly hungry by now, I pondered buying a small breakfast at Lakota, but it just looked too much, too early. So I put on my jacket and went out the door.

It was raining. Lightly, off and on, but enough that partway down the street I had to haul out my cheap umbrella. The wind immediately caught it and whipped it inside out, exactly like a cartoon umbrella. This had never happened to me before. So, cool, wet, and windy, I made my way to the local library. My goal: find out where Columbia's social security office is located.

Along the way, I pondered the situation of my story's character. I kept getting distracted though. Finally, at the library, I had a bagel for breakfast and got the address and phone number of the Social Security Administration office.

It seemed like the morning was going to be a bust. The story wouldn't move, the SS office was in a part of town I was not about to go to, even on my scooter, especially in the rain, and I really wanted to get my application for social security retirement benefits going. So I started walking back to the Holy Road House, umbrella held in front of me like some protective shield. Along the way, I started talking out the story plot to myself, out loud. It was like a conversation - I'd explain one part, then reply to that with another perspective, and then yet another. All the while I'm thinking, "Okay, I'm now a geezer with wet pants walking the city with a broken umbrella shouting out loud to no one. I'm now the people I used to stare at from my car when driving back from the mall."

But the self-talk worked. I found the ideas I needed to reshape the story and to carry it to a conclusion. I was able to visualize the ending (as Asimov suggests writers do), and then to shape the story to get to that point. I had an outline in my mind. This was my first great Howl of the day.

I then did some role-playing with Lizzie in the kitchen as she fine tuned the script for the Tumbleweed Cabaret.

The second success was finally getting a clue and going to the social security web site, where I was able to submit my application online. I was done in less than an hour, when I had earlier been convinced that I would have to go to some stuffy office and sit around until called, etc. etc. Howl number two for the day!

Then FD came over and after crashing and banging on drums and percussion toys with Lizzie and Tony, we went to the basement of the House and proceeded to clear and clean and organize close to half the space. Major Howl number three!

Then dinner and fine conversation with FD, to celebrate and thank her for her great help, and it's home to this blog and to bed. A good day, my friends, and a fine glow. I feel more blessed than I can say.