Noche, Bigfoot, and Pizza on the floor.

It's been a while since my last blog.
I finished up my two weeks at the gypsy cafe with an open invitation to return, and a sad farewell. I was leaving women that I had known less than a month, but we spoke and breathed as if we'd known eachother distantly for years.... a familiarity in the atmosphere that I will always remember.
Maggie and I said our goodbyes to Noche. We knew he had been sick the last few days that we were there. He was 14, and had lived a very full and free existence, his eyes were full of life, but the kind of life that is ready to leave this place. It was hard to say goodbye to him, but I knew it wasn't permanent. He passed about a week later, and my heart goes out to Tina, he was her companion and soul mate, and I know she is heart sick. Her and Barb placed Noche near the garden we built, just outside her door. I love you Tina, Noch will look and watch over you now, as your gaurdian, as you did him during his time here.

I left the cafe, and took off for california. Stopped by a farm in the middle of nowhere, and bought a peach from the most beautiful 80 year old woman I've ever seen.... I'm telling you, farming keeps you young, either that or she is hiding the fountain of youth on their property somewheres.
I also stopped by a place where they sell burlwood, as well as a large collection of individually unique pieces of burl furniture, clocks, decorations, etc... .the most beautiful functional art pieces I've ever seen. They also had ginormous tree houses that looked like they belonged in Alice in Wonderland and Swiss Family Robinson... I'd live in that shit, that's for damn sure.

Mags and I got in to the redwoods a little later than we would have liked, and it was starting to get dark... So being that niether of us had any clue where we were, we went to where we felt the safest, and camped at a pretty standard and accessible, somewhat populated campground/state park. We still had a large spot all our own, and a private view in the morning, but close enough to others to feel a bit more grounded.

We went in to stout grove and the back road to crescent city in the morning. It was nice because we headed out so early that the fog and mist were there the whole time we were in the woods. AMAZING.

We drove up the coast and stopped at a few different spots... I was planning on heading to Nevada from the redwoods, but smarty pants here left her bike and the Gypsy Cafe, so the girls agreed to bring it to Coquille on tuesday, which is near the coast, and I would meet them there, at the Cob Cottage to pick up the hooptie.

This way, I got to visit cob cottage, and see the ladies again, so it was a double whammy. The pictures of the property in Coquille don't even touch on, whisper at, or breeze past the intense beauty and sanctity of this place. I continue to be fascinated by what people create with their minds, and what their minds instruct their hands to do... That subtle transition, that faint intimacy of communication between your imagination and your phsyical actions, what your minds eye can emit to your senses and from there, sculpt on to paper, in to words, or in to three dimensional structures, just by the relationship between the body and mind..... unbelieveable, I feel like that is a pretty safe and fairly attainable yet challenging goal, to keep up that level of intimate language between my mind and body, and not cut off that love affair. And also, not to question or talk my mind out of things because my body is too tired to listen....
HA HA HA.... what a wonderful imagery that is in my head right now....
What's in yours? You should draw a picture of it!!!! Right now!!! Use colors! Only if you want to!

I'll write more later. I want to go draw a picture too.... and snuggle with my snoop doggy doggggggg.....

RACCOONS IN MY TENT.

FENDER GUITARS AND SIA’S INNER VOICE

I took a day off and went to Crater Lake yesterday.
I drove through a town called White City… as you’re driving in to town there is a large maple sign that reads in large, white letters… “WHITE CITY… THE BEST PLACE TO LIVE.”
Uh huh…. Interesting slogan. White City is a hop skip and a jump from the sprawling town of WEED… I had to stop and take a picture with the exit sign for that one, just for my brother.
Once I got in to Crater Lake park, there is a seven mile drive almost all uphill, windy and on a day like that, would not be much fun of a walk. I drove past a PCT hiker, did a loop back and stopped to give him a ride to the top. Being the bit of a chicken that I am, I circled back three times to get a good look at his face and gear before I finally offered him a ride. I figured I had to continue on the circle of love, since I had so many people give me rides on my way back from our hike earlier this year.
His name was Matt, and he was a very nice guy, he was hiking the trail alone, which is so out of my range of strength, I can’t begin to describe how much I look up to people who can do it like that.

I also ran in to a girl that I played softball with years ago. I recognized her parents at first… They were constant fixtures in the bleachers at all the games, and I remember her Momma keeping score for us quite frequently. None of them were very pleasant with me when I approached them to say hi and do a quick catch up on how life was going for her and so on and so forth… but maybe I just walked in at a bad time.
Either way, I enjoyed my visit to the lake, and the surprising comfort in a familiar face.
But I’ve always been kind a sucker for nostalgia… so there it is.

I then headed down highway 62 for about an hour and met up with my grandparents in Klamath Falls, Oregon. They are so cute, they have been married for 56 years, and look like a million dollars. After dinner I walked Mags to the nearby safeway and got some foor for the feast I’m making for everyone on Sunday, (my last day ☹ )

The safeway was very entertaining, and I liked the eclectic mix of townies… My favorite was an older, very attractive gentlemen darning Winnie the pooh sweatpants, a tazmanian devil t shirt, and a very large black leather fanny pack… I must say, if you’re gonna go for it, you might as well go all the way… And he nailed that outfit like he’d been planning it for weeks.
Bravo my friend…. Bravo.

We went to dinner at John and Dana’s tonight. John (Page) is an amazing custom furniture and guitar artist. He worked for fender for over 20 years, and now is building his own guitars and functional art out of his home and shop here in wolf creek. He is the one that makes the famous “Devil’s Tears” salsa.. I wanted to take some home so bad that they invited us for dinner tonight so we could watch and help him make it, and take some back with us.
Myshkin jammed on some of his amazingly detailed and brilliant electric guitars, and we all danced and caroused away the night.

We came home and Tina and I put on my favorite CD, and she helped me with a tarot reading… Inner Voice…… Inner Voice…. Inner Silence…

Sia’s song “Broken Biscuit”
Listen to that song… the lyrics are… well, they just are.

LOVE YOU ALL!!!! ☺
LOVE AND HUGS AND BIG FAT SLOBBER KISSES*.
*from Maggie.


TODAY August 6, 2008

Yesterday we weeded the neighbor lady’s garden… She’s pushin 90 and her garden looks like it’s on its way out too… However, we tore through that stuff, and she has herself some ripe harvest. We took all the fresh compost back to the café property because we needed some greens in our pile…

We went down ot Jeanie’s in grants pass again last night….
At the 55 and over trailor park…
Four of us girls completely cleaned up an 80 year old oak tree that had been cut down… but left in such a giant pile, and in such a mess, that we had to cut up the rest and de-terd all the branches… While being sexually harassed by jeanie’s estranged perverted of an old man husband…. Bleh… Can you tell he got to me? Anyway, after that we came home, drank some wine and jammed… Myshkin sang a song about trailor parks, the slimy and creepy men that live there, all of the under three pound dogs, and the vast excess of tarps… Long story, but very funny.

This morning we covered up all the straw bales and the exposed cob because there was call for a thunder/rain storm this afternoon.

A FEW GOOD WOMEN

The last few days have been exceptional. Every day is, but these last few were so foreign to me, as the last week has been entirely. The experiences I've been sharing here on this land, and on the surround earth have bloomed a piece of me that has been submersed till now. Yesterday started with a low dose of energy. There were a new batch of people here from the concert, who had stayed overnight and wanted to help on Myshkin's house. We had a new dog introduced to the pack of three, and many small fights emerged from his presence. He's a sweet dog, but violent by nature, and each dog had their own quarrel with him. Things calmed down by the second day, and we learned to keep an eye on things. The cob house is coming up so quick, it's really amazing to see the progress daily.

Every meal has been shared with a new community of people, food from the garden, and spirits from local sources. Pappy and I drove Margie home to grants pass last night, and I stopped to sit outside a coffee shop where there were a sleu of teenagers playing music and showing off their arm band tattoos to one another. I felt completly out of place, but absolutely comfortable and entertained at the same time.

Tina and I went to Ashland today to deliver the newspapers to the post office (Barb and Tina run a local/inernational women's ecological radical newspaper). We had lunch and brews at a local eatery, and walked around town and did some second hand shopping. I found, or I should say, it found me.... an old pendleton wool riding hat... It's perfect fit, perfect color, and I know I'll have it forever. We then took the long road back to the valley...

such a magnificent drive. Through Jacksonville, the Applegate Valley, and along the Rogue River. The skies were cloudy and smokey from the California fires, but it put a soft dampness in the air that was suprisingly calming. We drove through the big marijuana growing town of Williams, and in to Graci ... a small stop for the rafters of the Rogue River.

We took the one lane road back to the land, but not before we stopped in below the suspension bridge and dipped in to the river. the sun was just going down, and the bats were dancing aroung us and in the river, it was a moment I will remember for a very long time. I wont' try to describe it, but I felt as if I was invited there personally by the river and the surrounding mountains.... the bats and I together were celebrating and thanking mother earth for it's bounty of elements, and it's strength in the struggle to survive our bearance on her body.

We came home to a fresh cooked dinner by Myshkin and Brenin... Put on the kings of convenience, smoked some num nums.... and laughed and shared until just about half an hour ago, when Mags and I hit the hay.

LIFE IS GOOD.
LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU WERE TOO BUSY MAKING PLANS.
LIFE....
LIFE..
IS NOW.
AND NOW.
AND I'M GLAD YOU ARE HERE.

REMEMBER THE ABRAHAMS.
VIRGINIA.

GYPSY CAFE

GYPSY CAFÉ

Where do I start? Right now it’s a little after ten on Thursday night, and my typing is shadowed by the deep baying of a six year old beagle named buddy. Buddy likes to venture in to the woods in the late hours of the night and the wee hours of the morning and howl at whatever he deems howlable. He is has a constant blank look on his face, but the kind that makes you want to snuggle with him and shower him with kisses.

He isn’t the only critter on these 48 acres. Noche, a 14 year old pedigree and shit zu mix, claims the Gypsy Café as his home as well—no matter where you scratch him, he automatically plays the banjo until you stop. There’s also the two ginormous white cats, Little Bird, and Hapoo. And don’t forget the neighborhood peacock, Barbosa, who keeps up his exotic figure by sticking to a strict diet out of the organic garden that I’ve been working so hard to keep up.

Have you ever seen a peacock fly? It’s quite a sight. Almost like a phoenix… And Barbosa flies to the tops of some very tall trees.

There is so much life here.

It’s amazing how a four hour drive south from Northern Oregon transforms the landscape, and the climate, and the wildlife, and so on.

It’s ninety daily, it never rains, there are lizards everwhere. The soil is a highly compacted deep orange clay. Just picture a giant Burnt Sienna Crayola Crayon melted down and covered in forest. It’s perfect for building cob houses, which we have been doing a lot of.

The land is owned and wonderfully preserved by three women. Tina, Barb, and Myshkin.

Each have such amazing gifts and energy it is hard to really give light to their souls here.

We are working on Myshkin’s house right now. It has a rock foundation, and when finished will be a cob/strawbale home. It is a celebration to build a cob house. To mix it you have to stomp it with your bare feet, and we have had work crews here all week from the neighboring “Fairy Sanctuary”, so every day there are new people to dance in the mud with. From there you layer it on in giant clumps and sew it in to the cob layer below.

You can build a house out of the earth. It’s cheap, it’s beautiful, and you develop a relationship with your home. Plus, the surrounding wilderness is quite inviting, and more than willing to lend a few resources in the building process.

Myshkin is also a phenomenal musician. We have the treat of listening to her sing and play through the day, but especially in the evenings she’ll sit on the porch beneath the stars and privately jam. Her voice is so calming, and absolutely sparkling and pure… Yet deep and timeless. It’s like having my own personal Bille Holiday.

Barb and Tina run the WeMoon date book and calendars. They work constantly, but still find time for cooking and sharing with others. Tina is the gardening goddess. She and the other women started a permaculture garden here a few years ago, and it is thriving. I am learning so much, and loving every minute of it. I get to start my day by walking around an eccentric, happy garden, with three vibrant dogs running around, and then go get covered in mud and dirt and sing with new faces, and then usually stop by the swimming hole for a skinny dip, or just get naked in my own personal outdoor shower.
Tomorrow we are having a concert on the stage the women just built. All the exotic woods were donated by neighbors of the Gypsy Café. John and Dana respectively. John is an artist of functional art. He has been making custom guitars and furniture for years, he worked at fendor for over a decade and decided to start making a life out of what he loved. They came for dinner the first night, and we had a fiesta of food from the garden, sangria from Dana’s garden, and Salsa from John’s, called the “devils tears”…. Aptly named for the intensity…. I need to get a jar before I go home!!!

Yesterday, in the afternoon, we unloaded over 150 bales of straw for the houses, and then drove down to grants pass to pick up gravel from Jeanie, a friend of the gypsies. Jeanie lives in a very upscale trailor park and is probably the cutest old lady I’ve ever met in my life, and one of the smartest. We filled up the pick-ups with gravel after eleven oclock at night. I’m sure that made Jeanie’s neighbors happy—as if the sound wasn’t enough, the four of us were singing “I’ve been working on the railroad”… Well, more like yelling it, because the sound of shovels, pavement, and rocks flying was drowning out our voices. ☺

Today, Tina and I went down to the Fairy Sanctuary to visit everyone at the gathering. They are putting on different workshops everyday for people interested in earth and land preservation, or anything in that nature. Sustainability which includes subjects from proper removal and compost of human waste to brain-tanning hides.
Tina was doing a bio-brew ceremony, and about four others showed up in the garden for the brewing creation. It was all very sacred, and I felt privileged to be there. We asked the elements of the North, South, East, and West, to help create and preserve out brew, and to help the land and the crops receive it’s healing powers. We also sang, danced, and got to play with pond scum!

Tonight Renee came over and visited. She is an amazing 71 year old brilliant writer and gypsy. I’ve started her book, and her story amazes me. After some spaghetti covered in a garden fresh stew, Barb showed me how to make yarn out of dog and cat hair with drop spindles.

We are braiding garlic and clearing out a “tent city” valley for the concert guests tonight.
We hung a large bag of water above the sliding door to keep the flies out. Who knew that flies won’t fly under water? Not me, there’s something else I’ll be registering for future use.
JUST WOKE UP FROM A NAP IN THE GARDEN.. MAGGIE SLEPT ON MY SHOULDER, AND I JAMMED TO TRACY CHAPMAN AND JOSH TURNER ON MY IPOD... WOKE UP IN TEARS... I HAVE A FEELING I'LL BE EMOTIONALLY VOMITING FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS :) IT'S OK, I'M DUE FOR HAVING SOME FEMALE MOMENTS :)
LOVE YOU ALL, MISS YOU ALL.
MISS SOME EVEN MORE, AND I HOPE YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE :)

LOVE AND HUGS AND BLESSINGS AND SMILES,
VIRG.