My dreams of late seem to speak directly to my Equinox ritual andthe work I've been doing with my Animal Sacred Circle (Chimpanzee, Within Power Animal, Love/Expression: Chinchilla, Knowledge/Security: Falcon and my Teacher of Compassion: Wolf. So two dreams that are one, BEcoming: So a dream from Easter: It was rather dismal, storm grey weather (much like the real weather here today)

I was at one point in the dream at what seemed to be one of those really kitschy, sorta sad roadside attractions (Chloride AZ (where my Father is buried)

that was like Wild Bill's Medicine Show meets a bizarre flea market. There were people dressed like Wild West "cowboys n Indians" as costumed by Goodwill and there were strange painted murals and signage.

I was with a friend, wandering around checking out the sights and we found ourselves in a flea market tent that had rabbits, ducks, lambs, birds...all in small cages. There were two cages side by side, incubators that had small chicks just hatched still in their shells...with the feathers moist and matted all cheeping loudly.

I told my friend "they look so hungry" she said, "well you could feed them....there's some food over there" I looked down and saw this bowl of masticated food and a strange looking eyedropper that was difficult to use. Eventually, I picked up a ball of the food with my fingers and began hand-feeding bits to the wide opened cheeping mouths. They were happy.

Much of the environments in this dream were of this dismal chaotic energy. But those newly hatched little ones trusted me to feed them. I know that my Falcon mother was telling me that those Equinox Eggs of Intent are indeed being "hatched" and despite their seemingly unsavory environment needed nourishment and if nurtured properly without expectations of perfection they will indeed fly. and another from this morning...

Evening: see ML (my costume design mentor)wearing a corally-pink shirt behind a fenced area like a playground behind a building, an urban school or library. I say hello and asked what she's doing. She says something about needing to do research? or look for files ( isn't clear) we go to an old-school payphone and she says, " Here, hold onto this" and hands me what looks like some tiny fantasy toy animal that is velvety-looking and a deep azure blue like the Mariposa butterfly

or the deep turquoise blue of the eygptian faience fetishes and kind of looked like the hippo Goddess Taweret and it fits perfectly in the palm of my hand, the size of a new-born kitten

(or chinchilla!)

I take it, thinking it inanimate, but I realize it's a living creature. It moves, slightly startled. Out of the fur on it's back these small black whiskery hairs come out in a pair of arc-shapes and then like golden petals of a Spring Crocus unfurls these wings, deep yellow and black like a Swallowtail butterfly.

I'm amazed, giddy with surprise and delight, " Wow! how adorable!" ML hanging up the phone and then turns to leave me says,"You'll need to take care of it." I take it home not knowing what it is, but it has quite an endearing personality and is very trusting. Next I'm in an environment that seems both a home and a warehouse....I put the little creature down and look for something for it to sleep in...I look at it's face and realize it has only one incredibly large golden eye, an immeasurably deep immense pupil

and then it slowly blinks at me, very trusting, lovely limpid eye, sweet, sweet energy. It now fits completely in the palm of my hand. I place it on an upholstered chair a bit worried it is going to get lost, or stepped on or fly away. I find a number of different size bird cages on top of a refrigerator in what looked like a kitchenette different shapes sizes. Some are large and I think too open, others too small and cramped. I choose one that looks a bit dirty,but is shaped like an oversized snow globe. I like it's shape, looks a bit exotic, a glass mosque. I take it to the sink to clean it, the seed is sprouting in the feeding tray and has meal worms. I begin to clean the cage........I woke up

(‘Dunhuang flying apsarasa’ by Jack Qiang, China;) This Brave New World of creatures, fantastic, beautiful and courageous about to take flight... I AM still simply, lulu

From toni trip

Happy Dawn o' Equilibrium! Did my first "real" ritual in dozens of years this Equinox, setting 3 intentions for the coming year.
Spent the prior evening with Brad, a brother of my soul....earlier I had purchased a pair of jonquils that were on sale because they looked sad....but they were FULL of buds and only 2! dollars each....such a fru...gal, I AM. They're happy in a beautiful Spring green tureen...I dyed eggs to have for breakfast and "seal the deal" on each intent. ( I brought Brad one that was like an ovate Lapis Lazuli in a red lacquer egg cup with a rooster in gold (well it was really a saki goblet, but hey, I'm a sustainable designer so I re-purposed :) )

This is what I decided to "intend" :
regarding current housing crisis-mine and the world's:
I will find my "true" sense of Home, and the security that being "home" is and will respect that where I AM is where I am supposed to be until further notice...

on "true" abundance: I will find the proper job/place to focus my abundant creative energy that allows me to gift others with that energy and in return will abundantly fulfill my needs.

on true path: (been thinking a lot of my NCF of arrogance lately, how it came to play in life events) I will find my true path, I will lose my fear of vulnerability to rejection that comes out in arrogance and one-upmanship and as I lose that sense of competition I will help bring our current world of duality into one of unity and equilibrium.

 I shared this with a friend who wrote:
Once again you have inspired me into action. Through my cancer vacation I have discovered my current most important lesson. I believe it is the Nike theme:Do It Now. Although my interpretation and application is of a more zen variety. I knew that abandonment was my issue. I've known that for many years. However, I never really knew what to do about that except keep it from ruling my life and my decision making process. An issue is far from a lesson and I feel that they both need their time with you and your powers of debate and reconciliation. I so appreciate your new intention setting. Nice job! They aren't full of all the ME stuff. I see forgiveness and generosity. Thanks for letting me in on that. Home is in the heart. Have a great weekend! J

I wrote back:
It's such an odd time....I find that there are currently "threads" from past unrelated life events that are entangled and I'm feeling close to the way to unravel these events that I believe are related to this idea of arrogance, which also I think has it's inception in....abandonment ...What did you mean " An issue is far from a lesson and I feel that they both need their time with you and your powers of debate and reconciliation." How are you finding that reconciliation?

and he wrote:
I think that lessons (or experiences or spirit quests, etc) arise from issues. Issues are usually ego based and lessons, if learned, are heart based, but both are necessary for our respective paths as long as we are leaving some footprints along the way in discovery of something...self. The debate and recon are both inner tools. My inner discovery over the last few years(4-5) has produced my paying closer attention to issues and the lessons they present. It's all so subtle, though. I find I miss so many of them but I believe we get unlimited second chances. I try and not let any of this become an issue in and of itself. My reconciling is bathed in forgiveness. Issues and lessons are as far apart or as contingent as perfection and excellence. It's in the knowing when to stop and move on that the lesson is learned. It doesn't need to be.....perfect. So, it's a gorgeous day in Boulder. Mid 70's today. I think I need a few more boxes to start packing for the sojourn back to MD. Have a great day! J

 I thought on these words all day. I have found that in this past year's Intentions truly manifested in ways both strange and wondrous. Two intertwined threads had distinguished themselves from my life's tapestry. One of my search for my Inner Partner, my Animus and the role of the Father in that search. I believe this is what the Michaels alluded to with: "The "seeds" of the negative chief feature can be located in the birth experience, that is to say. We would suggest looking closely into the birth experience itself as a means to access this "seed" experience that has become the fertile soil upon which the NCF influences feed. Once rooted out, the remaining internal monadal sequences will become MUCH easier to complete from the positive pole orientation of the experiences."
The "Animus Affair" began with an intention to truly connect with this inner partner who I would see, converse with in my dreams. Less than one cycle of the moon, a friendship with one who is still Beloved began. The seeds of that intention grew. My awareness of this inner partner had had time to blossom. I learned more of my connection to my inner self and I kept moving....in Radical Trust.
Simultaneously, May of 2008, my son's father who had wreaked havoc 16 years earlier, that event allowing my first inklings of Essence Contact to emerge, contacted me for the first time, to "compliment me on the fine job I'd done with our son and to find a "compromise deal" to his child support debt. I did not respond as I realized that I was sorely tempted (and encouraged by others) to fall back into a battle stance.
On Feb 1st, 2009, I reconnected with my never-known Father and 20 days later received another letter of "compromise deal" from SQ's dad. I reveled in one event and wrangled with my response to the other. And then my friend's words helped me find light. I found the way to untangle the threads.
Over the course of this life I have met many who have moved me yet another step on my journey; I have loved and learned from them, not just lovers in the conventional sense, but many, many other loves,too.... my enemy, my lover, so to speak and as I write now, I realize the depth of my gratitude to all these Others that are my soul's family, especially those that on surface may have seemed not to be those that loved me, but who nevertheless had the courage to teach me such amazing lessons..... and gratitude toward those who also, through their grace, allowed me to see the true beauty of this soul's life.

So to P, I finally wrote:
Hello Patrick,
I received your letter. Decided that I'd give the "entire event" a good going over in my soul's eye before I responded. Yes, this "debt" has been hanging like a karmic albatross for quite a while, hasn't it? While I can certainly appreciate how difficult it must be to have the government's hands on your paycheck, and the restrictions that it must place on you, including your ability to travel, your request to discuss this idea of a "compromise deal", to put paid to all this, tells me that you've changed little in the last 17 years.

Last year's letter brought to the surface for both SQ and myself the utter disregard you had for your son and his well-being. Thank you for at least acknowledging the fact he's a pretty phenomenal (and resourceful) guy! But....that does not excuse the anguish that your disappearance caused him. I found it interesting that you would refer to it all as "stuff happens". It was not just "stuff", it was events that marked your son's childhood, his relationship to those "who cared about him" and the world at large. He, as any child would have, believed your declarations of unconditional love implicitly. And he dealt with his own karma of abandonment. Your dispassionate recounting of the past is rather distasteful and frankly, too little, too late.

My original feelings were that the "debt" had little to do with money, however, in the last few weeks of introspection, I realized that all this has ever boiled down to is money. It was ultimately your decision to place our son's life in the hands of the court, your decision too, at your loss in battle, to retreat to parts unknown, never to contact him. It was your decision to erase his existence from his brother's memory until that ol' karmic wheel turned and, to your surprise, their (and your) reconnection. It was the government (not I) that found you; it is their enforcement of the law that has created your current economic pickle. Based on their accounting, you are still in arrears $25,029 and change. So my question to you is this: What do you really feel, based on these statements of "fact", is an appropriate "compromise deal"? I have no desire at this stage in my life, to continue being adverserial, but nor will I allow myself to be victimized ever again. Like so many in this country now, yes, times are tough, but not much tougher than they were when SQ was growing up. So Patrick, what is the true value of this "stuff"?

 In the spirit of dialogue, I believe it is now, your turn. T

and in gratitude, to my never-met friend I wrote:
Hey,
It's the usual time, eyes and brain tire just enough to tease me into "lights out"... then the filmstrip behind my lids begins it's Last Picture Show and I realize it's no use trying to stop the projector. I wanted to thank you. Your thoughtful response to my question allowed me to finally write a reply to, now, two letters, in as many years that I have avoided, one of the tangled threads into the Minotaur's cavern....but I made it to the heart and back just in time for Dawn and it was beautiful.

 I AM,
simply,
lulu

' />

this time no fireflies or fairies, but angels fallen...it was Barry's b-day yesterday, so a tiny glimpse of HereNow - then...no Cure, but there was Bukowski.... love, lulu

 from fall equinox @ Barry's house in Pine Lake The Equinox, time of balance,perfect proportion of light to dark. Last evening was spent walking a perfect balance of elements....Pine Lake, a tiny bijou of a community from the 30's still carries an almost idyllic peace even though it's barely outside the Perimeter. As I find myself being drawn away from Atlanta, I also find that those I love who will remain here are now in places that I can come rest when I need the energy of the South. Barry and I walked and talked in a circle of moonlight, telling of our day trying to find proper balance of positive to negative.
The lake gave us all the elements;
Fire:the torches along the shore,
Air: stars in sky, the early fall breeze,
Earth: crisp and rich beneath our feet, and of course,
Water: the lake.
Later, at a restaurant, eating a perfect mix of unadulterated beans and rice with beautiful red tomatoes on top I continued to ponder balance and read. A young woman sat down next to me and in one breath said,"my damn TOE, It's going to fall off" and "Bukowski, ever read South to the North? Best book I ever read". We chatted a bit, she left I wrote:
Toe
Bukowski's angel
balances on head o' pin, tapdances
"sparkle,sparkle, slap,ball,change"
on quicksand.
Stillness to movement,
blink of eye,
seeks equilibrium.
Equilibrium sought,
her surfaces shift,
light refracts.
Toes fracture,
treading unfamiliar territory.

Expectations: a stubbed toe
Toe: a beacon homing
Near misses = course correction
Correction = balance.
Balancing act on head o'pin.
Angel.

This is the poem I had looked for, written 5 years ago. I found it in
my hardcopy reading notebook. Even though the snapshot is gone and the
painting which Tony had given my  grandmother, Grace was stolen from my
Aunt's house, they live in the land of floods, too....the Natchez in
Southeast Texas, their house vandalized. I broke my heart as it was the
only tangible connection I had to my father.....

but in reading in the blog Tony's lessons on  impermanence, I realized that I had
always neglected to document work, most of it I gave away spontaneous
gifts or in my sculpture (my BFA) I'd dismantle things and reuse as
soon as I understood what I was trying to say/see, drove my professors
nuts. My belief was that creativity/art was revealed in the process,
the uncovering of these incredible mysteries.

After I moved to NYC, The Universe gave me occasion to put my money
where my mouth was, so to speak... I was in Australia,traveling for work
in 1990, my belongings , which included a hundred or so black books, my
portfolio, drawings etc in storage. While I hiked the Milford trek and
climbed Uluru for my 34th birthday, the storage company was sold and as
I wasn't there to pay the rent to new owners, everything was sold at
auction. Once home, at first, traumatized, I sat on the subway, trying
to figure out how to "find" my art. I began visualizing every sheet of
paper, reliving every stroke. I could see each piece whether manifested
or only an idea, my brainchildren. I could see them all and I knew
then, on that F train home nothing was ever lost. 
                                            Snapshot

Once upon a time, curious eyes and
questions asked bred fantastic
feats of derring-do,
sea monsters fought and
lost at sea you were.
No hope for survivors,
no hope for safe return,
The Hero's welcome, welcoming arms,
no knee for my needing.
It was the sea, the sea,
that oily ocean's roil; impasto
waves that dashed their court
and sparks flew.
Spontaneously combusted
beacons occurred, flashing
for all souls lost in
that sea of sand and neon.
Neon flashed in twilight hours,
flashes of brilliance
illuminating the darkness.
Frantic brush fires burning
hot to Burnt Umber.
Fires cooled with Ultramarine, sea deep,
the crash of Titanium White
on Van Dyke Brown.
Flick, flick of salt and sweat
brushed Payne's Grey
framed in black.
Black cat's eye, encircling arm
life preserving, skimming
the deep with a wink, twinkle eye.
Sunlight after storm.
2003

what was misplaced is found....the poem, not the snapshot. The painting gone, art as proof of life, stolen with malice aforethought.But like all visions, "it was just my imagination"and there is where you will find the seat of my soul.

This has been an integrating epiphany for me and I do not believe in
coincidence. I don't need "things" that represent this father, this
Tony, too, I never knew, but strangely knew. I do, however, have
a need to fill in my own blanks. We are so much more than these lumps
of flesh and the web that connects us with those who are our soul's
family may appear fragile, but it's tensile strength is without
parallel. 


My mom used to tell people I popped out of the womb a storyteller...Yeah, us Monkey's love a good story.

I AM
simply,
lulu
         

{to see my Father you must search him as he is a chimera to most..... Tony Mafia, the painter}
(my new-found sister Rikke sent me this page from Tony's albums...my parents, lower center and I wear my favorite cherries dress)

From luluaussi

 I have been swirling, tossed at sea since yesterday. It was a synchronistic fluke( or maybe not a fluke) yesterday that sent me to that blog....I was looking for some film info on IMDB for my resume and in the back of my brain, I remembered my mother calling me a couple of years ago,to say she'd seen an old Perry Mason episode with my father, so I searched....I have never been driven to search for my father; I think I understood, better than most who and why he was....not in my life. And truly until, yesterday evening I had never seen his face....well, I did have one picture given to me, ironically not long before his death in 1999 when I moved to Atlanta, my maternal grandmother, Grace had taken at the wedding, an incandescent blur...I could only see that my cheeks, chin and set of eyes were like...

I have spent the morning looking at old work...it is really strange how I am so connected to someone, like reports of twins long separated, but uncannily similar.

Although, my family truly loves me, they have never "gotten" me, so I stood outside, first person, third person, feeling very (a)lone. I have always worked in dreamspace. And it is in dreamspace that I believe now ,he(Tony) has spoken to me often...I just did not recognize him.

And I am alone in that IAM the only connection to these two souls(my mother and father), it's weird that I now know that I am surrounded by "halves". I only knew that I had an older half sister. I have two younger half brothers in the Sunseri universe. Interesting, our "family" constellations....

I have a son, Ariel aka SQ(as in askew of the world....named himself @ 11)now 23. History certainly repeats...his father, a composer, dropped out of his life from 6-21...SQ, my beautiful rebel appeared on his doorstep at 21.

At present I'm working on establishing a chapter of a campaign to use money in the "Stimulus" bill to hire artists in the schools, not unlike the WPA projects....as to the desert where my father spent half his time...periwinkle and the twilite sky of the desert has always drawn me. I'm the only non"Southerner" in my family. I've been looking to move back west since last year. One year ago today I returned from San Francisco on my second reconnaissense trip, only to lose my job and become ......ta-dah....a "Starving Artist" again. I am eternally grateful. some of my father's work...

{Sunday, December 16, 2007

Circus
It was time for another circus drawing: look at the strange perspective from high up, although the high wire, the tight rope is even higher. Also notice the signature double face in the front. He would always return to the subject as a metaphor of life. }

these are the comments I wrote: on "seascape" and "A Story"...
Hello,
I don't even know how to begin except with "Thank you". I'm Toni, too. and until this day- so glad Mercury turned direct- I had never seen my father's face. I tried to find a piece I wrote called Snapshot. I called it my family portrait...It was a wild roiling seascape painted at laguna beach when my mom was pregnant. The photo is of her holding me, wiggly, motormouth, mischievous 3yrold in front of the painting. I'll look for it...instead I give you this in thanks for giving me this "picture" too of my father and his life...I cannot begin to express what I am feeling....so this is from my blog beyond the Planck Barrier
Luminoso

Tonight I danced.
Under a constellation
in copper,
reflected off needles of pine,
here and now
is my home.
North Star,
my mother,
navigates me back,
back, back to the edge
were my past and future
find they are the
same destination .
A language known
only to my heart
speaks the legend
of this strange map.

It takes three points to
triangulate your path:
your soul,
the direction of fair winds,
and the soft seas of destiny.
I find these points reflected
in your eyes
and the moon.
My eyes diffuse
in this balmy night
where my soul
floats, cries and
dances,
in this strange world of
possibility.


I have come to a place now where Here and Now truly is my home and I have joy AND peace of mind with this world and all it's changes. Those that pass through my life, or those who've agreed to be my teachers on this strange journey Home
have blessed me with every event, joyous and not so....


feel free to drop by, you have given me a very precious gift.

(born Toni Lianne Alderson on the Ides of May, 1956)but I prefer to call my self lulu aussi

(the next morning)

After sleep, images kept infusing my brain, kaliedescopic memories of my own work of the last 30 years...it is an amazing,even wonderous gift, how someone (un)known is imprinted on your soul. Looking at of his work, the writing on the drawings, etc., seeing "through" his eyes, my soul's path has not been dissimilar. Many images I have used, language and themes...I have used the Pierrot, the Jester, circuses, which eventually became pinball in painting, performances, costumes, poetry to describe myself(as a child,when angry with me, my mother would exclaim in utter exasperation "you're JUST like your father!" to her, it was perjorative...and now, at 52, I find myself these days following breadcrumbs...home in Radical Trust.
Only 10 days ago, I wrote to a friend, we'd been discussing pre-birth agreements..You queried the pre-birth comment...my birth father and my (step) Dad are born 1 week apart....birth dad and I agreed that he'd be my starseed and give me access to my True Self and my Dad (who's been my father many remembered lifetimes) needed to complete somethings....mostly him, I think, allowing perceptual changes in what is Truth vs Dogma...

I believe now,that Tony has been with me, a teacher, my whole life, (in)tangibly, of course. Perhaps, he has finally stepped out of the shadows, to show me his face.
1982-Antwerp the year I moved to NYC "to be an Artist"

and I 'll give you "A Story" he wrote in 1981
{Sunday, August 26, 2007



Tony wrote A story in Antwerp in 1981. The next post will be my Dutch version. The small watercolor drawing The Poet is from December 1981, courtesy of Arnold DP.

I can but cry, for once upon a time is,
or so I feel, only space grown empty, but did you
know through this space traveled a name songer,
name songer may be a strange type of work to do or name
to be called by, even if they do exist!
but first I must tell you what a name songer is.

they stand in their time and dream about
the wind, and call out names of children they
have known, and even names of ones that are
still to come to us on a tomorrow. “ tomorrow is for
them, a darks eleven forty nine, not a second
more or less, can be a perfect tomorrow “ as it
becomes a perfect tomorrow and children are the reason a name songer
can breathe.

one day a name songer in his space, in his time, sang
a time used name, one often used for the now being
born, or the still unknown of, and passed, called love.
love he sang and the sky danced, the earth grew.
all called by this name, or any who had ever
been near or used this name looked to the future
and smiled, remembered and smiled or those now

feeling, felt and said ‘smile for love’. well as
you can see, or as I see it, this is the greatest
name ever created by a name songer.

love even soft said is still grant, if
screamed out, caring, or even thought of is a
special time of magic thinking. but one day
this singing one felt change must be, so he
added to this beauty Love, a I, and felt this
change as good, so all of them named love from
then on were called ‘ I love ‘ . This seemed fine
and all accepted this, and did not think until
one tomorrow at exactly eleven forty nine, which
they also felt fine about, (eleven forty nine’s tomorrow’s
name I mean) but a tear did not. ‘Tear’ (another
songer’s name) felt it should not have to exist without
its I. so told all and everything to call it
only if they said I first - ‘I tear’ not knowing
a simple I would bring to all a tear. the dancing
sky learned “I tear” and teared, the growing earth
teared as it added I. and none felt a smile and
began to feel the weight of the I. and some begin to think
is a I better, or has the name songer not sang a
space for lone in adding I. just I does it not
leave out others, if not almost everything such
as: we children to be born, they, or those
now born, they how sad tomorrow not a
together, but a one single alone and unable
to be part of another because of course this
I is not them, they or any of these belongers,
one of many.

and of this I feel sad and now
once upon a time I can but cry and fill this
alone space for he named me I Tony, though
so many times I so need a we which shall
never be until all and everything forgets this
name songers I space, and returns love without I
first and make I not come before tear, or any
of the many things that seem to have taken
this first name ‘I’. then maybe on a one eleven
forty nine on the point the wind will once again
dance, be a dance in the sky and the earth
shall grow and I shall once upon a time again
happy}


I wrote:

An afternoon, 1981... a phone call from my mother, "your father wants to speak with you..." "so why didn't he just call me?!"..."no, she said, "your real father, I gave him our number...." "ok, let me know when he calls..." as it sank in, I slid stunned to the floor in a squat to ponder...my parents had been going through an annullment process....erasing her marriage"in the eyes of the catholic church" erasing my tangibility, I thought at that time...mission accomplished. I was merely a footnote. He never called.
That sadness, I carried, an albatross,for most of my life....
but I understand through this piece, whether intentional or not....we are never Lost,
lulu


such is the story of my life.
I AM ...still
simply
lulu