Sunday, December 28, 2008

heavy war weary heart

and i'm not even fucking there.

its almost impossible to read anything about war through the mainstream press.
so full of carefully crafted wording and dangerous war-is-okay-because-theres-a-really good-reason lies.

like how they can go on and on about how the military is bombing the crap out of gaza.
words like
"deadliest-ever air offensive"
"more than 290 people were killed over two days and more than 800 wounded."
" intense bombings — some 300 air strikes since midday Saturday — wreaked unprecedented destruction in Gaza, reducing entire buildings to rubble".

then say
"most of the dead were from the Hamas security forces"

its as though they think, perhaps correctly, that if they use the buzz word "hamas" in every sentence pertaining to the death and destruction it will eradicate any humanity...any human casuality, any suffering.

reason reasons someones always got a reason
"aircraft attacked a building in the Jebaliya refugee camp next to Gaza City, killing a 14-month-old baby, a man and two women"

bombs bombs someones always got a bomb.

and a reason.

for an ounce of the human side of "air campaigns" and "ground invasions" i refer you to laila el haddads blog diary of a palestinian mother. she is in daily, albeit sketchy, contact w/ her family in gaza.

also worth checking out is democracy now's interview yesterday with two Israelis opposed to the assault: Dov Khenin, a Knesset member with the Jewish-Arab party Hadash; and Jonathan Benartzi, an Israeli conscientious objector who spent more than a year in prison for refusing to serve.

hope you all are well and safe and loved.

Monday, December 22, 2008

oh my

its been a long time.

i don't really know where i've been. all over, back and forth...standing still staring into space. catching needed rest and pleasure in santa fe.

its cold. my house is cold. drafty. i wake up at 4 am-ish, its too cold to sleep and my head is like an ice block.i sleep w/ 2 dogs and a cat.

i'm tired much of the time. dizzy. coughing. aching. its really fun. just keeping the wood stove going and feeding all the animals is about all can i get accomplished. but what do expect with a thrift store immune system.

in my head i'm planning where to go and hoping. hoping for more. and singing. i sing a lot. the singing is the important part, the singing is about the change thats coming.

i try and smile at people and be as friendly as i can muster. this seems to help.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

rose blanket

ok, heres the latest. its 45"x64". weighs roughly 6 lbs. handspun, as usual. this one is entirely from my dearly missed churro/cotswold sheep. it will be whisked off to its new home tomorrow!
the problem i have w/ photographing weavings is...well, patience....but also that a photo doesn't do it justice. not my work anyway, because my blankets are less about fancy patterns and more about the rich texture of the yarns.the fuzzy nap and lumps and bumps, which implies a 3rd dimension...which isn't captured in the photo. whats also hard to get is the subtle and endless variations in color. and then theres the FEEL of it...being a textile and all that.
perhaps a pro photog could do it better. i'm just a queer with a cheap digital camera and like i said, not a lot of patience.

but all that aside, i'm really pleased with it. its going to be wickedly warm! i love functional art.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

i've gone all quiet...

even the incessant talking to myself has ceased. i've been hard at work on my loom to get this blanket done....and i'm almost there.i'll post a photo once its knotted off and ready to go.
also, i'm having lots of eyeball problems where the computer is concerned. blurry, aching...not liking the screen. a bummer since its a definite deterrent to indulging in some sort of blog post story...the other day in the car i had the idea that i'd tell you all about when i was a gothic art-fag lsd addicted malnourished stressed out teenager with a blood letting/sucking fetish...good times...
oh sigh.such a miracle i'm alive.
but hey, it'll make a good story. if my eyes will just let me write it.

and in other news, the recession/depression scares the crap out me.

AND i had to share this clip from democracy now...

Bush Buys Home in Former All-White Neighborhood

And President Bush has bought a new home in an exclusive section of Dallas. Up until 2000, the gated community had a neighborhood association covenant that allowed only whites to own property. The document said the area’s land “shall be used and occupied by white persons only except these covenants shall not prevent occupancy by domestic servants of a different race or nationality in the employ of a tenant.”

now, i know its no big surprise that bush is a unabashed racist ass but still....and can you just imagine what the people are like that live in that gated gleaming white haven???? blech....

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

who can it be now?

Eleanor really really wants to know what all goes on in the house...where it is we all disappear to. thing is,if she wasn't so bossy w/ the dogs and if there was a way to control her random gumball machine pooping action i'd probably let her in...sigh...its just the way i am. back in chacon i used to love how if i left the doors open the swallows would come in and fly in circles and sing(it was their house before it was mine). i've slept with dogs in the bed my whole life. i'm the one who would wander off to the barn in the night to sleep with the horses when i was 3....but thats a story for another time.

why i don't celebrate thanksgiving

so tomorrow is that day...the day when mythological happy pilgrims sat down w/ mythological happy native americans and had some mythological happy-meal of abundance and sharing.
a group called the united american indians of new england will hold their 39th day of mourning tomorrow at coles hill plymouth, MA (plymouth rock).you can read all about it right HERE.

and while getting together w/ family to eat a bunch of food might be harmless enough, the least we can do is not perpetuate the gigantic lie that europeans peacefully occupied this mostly empty continent with the full blessing of the few native folks that just happen to be here.
debunk the myth people.

Monday, November 24, 2008

a little coal love...y mas

once in a while coal likes to free himself from the horse pasture below and come up top to visit...and eat directy from the hay pile.
please note the obvious trust i must have in all of you that i would post a photo of my bed head.
ok...just take in the cuteness of these feet.

and since this is an animal appreciation post, i'm adding this photo of eva and pancake sound asleep.
AND in other news, check out this fantastic fucking house in the middle of the city of rochester for sale. the asking price might want to sit down...28k. we're about 10k short...anyone want to lend my mother and i 10k? pretty please???

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

its all part of a plan...

even tho i tend to disagree w/ just about every third thing out of her mouth, i had to share this bit by twisty faster since it made me chuckle. and who doesn't need a good chuckle.(its suddenly striking me that chuckle is a really odd word)this is one of her theories as to why the same population that would vote in the first black prez would also ban gay marriage...

"The New Obam-A-Merica is young, happy, hopey, changey. We’ll ban gay marriage, OK? but only to pave the way for the inevitable ban on straight marriage, whereupon we liberate millions from the stifling, dimensionless, heteronormative purgatory of the nuclear family..."

Monday, November 17, 2008

republic of lakotah state of emergency

for more info go HERE and to help out go HERE...

International Declaration of Emergency
Update 01- November 17, 2008


Republic of Lakotah
RE: Twelfth Day of Snow Emergency

* Many hundreds of American Indians still snowbound and without electrical power
or water on Pine Ridge Indian Reservation.
* Sofia Romero, age 98, snowed in, no power, no water, food situation unknown.
* Emme Zimiga, age 96, snowed in, no power, no water, food situation unknown.
* Amanda Milk, age 80's, no legs, dialysis patient, snowed in, presumed dead.
* Hisle SD - 38 households (average of 17 persons per household on Reservation)
still snowed in with out power or water.
* Lost Dog Community - 5 families snowed in, no power, no water, food situation
* Lacreek Electric Association reports that over 1,000 power distribution poles
broken by the storm have been replaced, but dozens more are still down, while repair
efforts have been diverted to the some of the main distribution lines still partially
* Red Cross Effort Vehemently Incompetent - As documented by Marion White Mouse
(605-462-6242), the American Red Cross sent a contingency of one volunteer, Monica
Turkleson who departed the Reservation prematurely on Saturday, November 15th.
Ms. Turkleson's "aide" consisted of nothing and her behavior was reported as impatient,
rude and racist. Russell Means suggests that this organization change its name
to the "White Cross."

Please forward this e-mail to friends, press contacts and bloggers to get the word
May the Great Mystery continue to guide and protect the paths of you and your loved
Russell Means
Chief Facilitator
Republic of Lakotah

Sunday, November 16, 2008

prop 8 fervor and then theres Duanna Johnson

so i left a comment earlier on crip-chicks blog in response to her righteous post (read it!) and then afterward realized i wanted to say more about this whole issue of the very mainstream agenda of gays getting married versus the base line issue of violence against people of color, poor folk, trans folk, queers and crips and all the people that embody the various intersections of those realities.

marriage vs. beaten to death. hmmmm, which one makes me want to stand in the street and yell til i'm hoarse in the throat?

its like a convo i remember having with a friend some 12 years ago about the community meetings on the land we lived on.i was concerned about the need for tackling class and oppressive behavior(big surprise) and he was stressing to me that all the other issues of oppression that we had to discuss couldn't even be discussed if we don't first address disability access.because you can't have the convo if you can't even be there.

in this case, how are "we" to address the issue of something like marriage if some of us,undoubtedly the more marginalized, aren't even fucking alive or on the outside or well fed enough to have the discussion.

its trite, but i'm gonna say ones free til we're all free.

honestly i'm not that concerned about the right to get married in particular. i am however concerned about human rights. our right to live w/out violence and hunger and homelessness and exploitation and incarceration and war. thats where my anger is. thats where the love is.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

birthday portrait 08'

ahhhh.... like sands in the hour are the days of our lives...(violins)

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

i decided to clean out my desk

i'm rifling through years and years of hoarded papers.
receipts, articles, zines, poetry, drawings, flyers
and letters.
stacks of know, hand written, sent in the mail...from before the internet came along.
in these letters i found her, again.
its been a while.

now, i've known plenty of heroin addicts. i've lost some. some made it back. why i didn't end up hooked myself i'll never know.
i've also known plenty of sex workers...some had to do it...some chose to do it. some of us lived in the grey space between had to and chose to.

and i've had a couple of lower class lovers.
but her and i had something special between us.
that potent combination of "trash, whore and revolution" she would say.
we were poets. we were survivors. we did whatever it took. we had an understanding.there was no judgement, no suspicion, no need to pass. it was ok to be exactly who we were....damaged, vulnerable, gorgeous and dangerous.
but she had it worse than me. honestly. and she held me to it, she wouldn't let me forget or fuck up.

having run in predominately white middle class downwardly mobile circles in my young-adult life, i got used to being the only poor person. like the real, live, -right now- poor person. not the -oh listen to my tale of childhood hardship before i went to college- person.or one of the many that adopted some sort of rough around the edges persona after college in order to embrace their idea of anarchism.
but she was a glaring exception. an abusive junkie dad,on her own turning tricks since she was 13...the constant struggle to stay clean and alive.

Although we ended up in san francisco, we met while living together in a crowded, chaotic house of queers in north portland. at the time i was a full time thief.seriously. i would get up in the morning, take the bus to the trendy shopping district and lift anything that had either resale value or was just useful in my life. i'd head home on the bus with my bag heavy with loot. she had come from the bay area and was always looking for work... whatever she could find in a town without much of a sex industry.

honestly, she scared me a bit. i felt that familiar cold draft of nothing swirling around her and it scared me. in the end this would be my fault line.

it took some work to dislodge myself from my back up against the wall stance i'd grown accustomed to.i was pretty good at pointing the finger at classism. not so familar with checking my own shit.
she helped me sharpen my class awareness to a cutting edge.

she had a theory that the middle class didn't know intimacy like we wasn't possible. that the pretense of economic privilege and comfort prevented it. so it was ours to covet. our secret weapon.
i believed her...i believe it now. i search for it still. the wordless knowing. no judgement . no need to pass.

in the end i fucked up. i hurt her. my fault line cracked wide open and i made choices to essentially utilize my ticket to ride, save my own ass and leave her behind. i was lured away by the warmth of proximity to the middle class. anything to escape the cold draft.and even then, she understood, heartbroken but forgiving...who wouldn't escape if they could?

so here i am today, at my desk which is covered with her letters. love letters, calling me on my shit letters, letters of desperation, fear and hope. i close my eyes and i can see her. her thin fidgety fingers. her bright red lipstick and greenest eyes.

cold draft swirls around me still. always will. as its mine.

dead chicken and another birthday

it always upsets me when a chicken dies.
i've only actually lost 2 chickens in the 2 or so years i've had them...which doesn't seem too bad...? both have died when i've been away visiting the city. i come home and just happen upon a chicken body. no sign of attack or injury. just dead. and i just stand there with my mouth hanging open.
all the other chickens just keep on keepin' on...i mean, what else are they gonna do?
i guess thats true w/ all species, including for the way we get caught up in grief.
not much grief goin on in chicken world.
apparently thats my job.
this one that just died was one of my wellsummers. gorgeous, huge, speckled eggs. i called her my crooked some point months ago she got in the way of a dog stampede, was unable to walk for about a week and recovered but since then her body bent at a sharp angle at the base of her tail. these past couple of months she'd been picked on pretty badly by the others. her comb would be a bloody mess. i'd find blood droplets all over....i wondered if she was picked on for being crooked? or ill? is that just me applying human ableism to chickens?sigh....

in other news, my goddam birthday is coming up this friday. i wish i could somehow make it not important...but at this point its become some sort of symbolic litmus test for my life, my level of isolation and my community...or lack thereof. fucking ableism and poverty...i swear. i mean, my friends/family that are scattered around the globe will call or email to say hello but whats sorely lacking is actual human contact. oh blah....self deprecating thoughts don't wear well, grief makes me look tired...and older....silly birthday. maybe i'll invite the chickens in for tea.
they could teach me a thing or 2 about how to keep on keepin' on.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

masochists love song

the want to be broken
broken open torn apart
used up and left for pieces of memory
a need to be taken down
taken for an insatiable burning ride
beaten like a drum skin stung warmed and singing
beaten to the brink
and brought back for a warm kiss
broken open to flood
slamming up against blood
the edge

its all about that elusive edge
finding it
straddling it
the lure of falling
the lure of letting go
the lure of not coming back

such a long way off from the point of should i return

i want you to break me
break me down split
into kindling
leave me burning in pieces
of memory.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

si se puede godammit

after the last 2 elections were stolen and after 8 fucking years of the most horrific administration EVER and esp. in a country that was literally built on fucking slavery i was thrilled as i watched state after state fall into a blue hue.a million people gathered in chicagos grant park.record breaking numbers of voters. and i ain't no stinkin' democrat....
but hello people.....our president is barack hussein obama.

i know its not the end all.i know he's not anti-war. i know that on the ground everything is still a fucking mess and he's not perfect....i just want to indulge in a moment of collective pride....and a little hope. that maybe this ripple effect of this on the ground will be a better collective energy...a more cohesive grassroots movement, a strengthening of the belief that what matters is ordinary people power not politicians or governments.

and i hope, with all my might, that the most terrifying sarah -end of days- palin has a good cry then slithers back to whatever apocalyptic pentecostal rock they found her under. yeesh.

Sunday, November 2, 2008


i've been commissioned to do a large blanket (thanks beth and chris!) and have finally finished spinning the 6 pounds of yarn needed for the job.yay!
then i took about 2 lbs and dyed it various shades of red. I'm haphazard w/ my dying process so i'm never sure exactly what will come of it. its exciting when the colors are then right there in front of me cuz then i have an idea of what the piece is going to look like.the colors are actually different than the photo, a little more earthtone, a little less grapetone...damn camera...damn blogger.
and here in new mexico our fall season is defined by cottonwoods and aspens pretty much.down here at 6000ft, we get cottonwoods...

Saturday, November 1, 2008

whittled down

sometimes life just pushes you towards something.
yesterday was a ridiculous day.

i woke up to an email saying that the vegas house had another interested buyer that was willing to outbid and pay full cash.

i can't compete with i had a bath and a freak out then made one, last, definitely pushing my economic ability offer on the place.

all w/ the owl hoo-hooing outside my window.

pretty convinced i was out of the running i got on with my day, which was out of the way....really strange....and later to my surprise was an email saying they accepted the then in the midst of freakin out about that...elated , scared, elated , scared....i got some news that i can't share since its not about me but it was the kind of news that tipped my shakey scales...towards new york.

suddenly, with the seller of the house out there somewhere thinking she had sold it, i felt this enourmous pressure to hurry the fuck up and make a gigantic decision...asap.
in that mind boggling period of a few hours it was funny how everything became ridiculously significant.
i called everyone i could think of for advice. i read my tarot cards. i flipped coins. you name it.

so at the end of the day yesterday i let the vegas house go. i turned them down.

and while i have fleeting moments of "what in hell are you thinking...who do you think you are turning down a house you could actually own in a town you actually like..."
i'm feeling okay about it....frazzled but okay.the house needed so much work. didn't even have plumbing or electric yet...or interior walls...or insulation...or heat. so it was a gigantic undertaking all on my ownsome.
and frankly, i've done the whole -fix up the old adobe as best i can and live in it basically unfinished because i ran out of money- thing.

at this point i'm going to get on with the gigantic task...made up of trazillion little tasks....of moving across the country.i've got about 5 or 6 months to figure it out.

of course, anything could happen between now and then. but i feel an eerie calm without the inner chatter that comes w/ indecision.

i've been trying to dig up any info i can on disability stuff in the rochester area. theres a center for disability rights, the deaf queer resource center, an adapt chapter and an independent living center.thats what i've found so far anyway, which is great and certainly more than whats around here, but is generally kind of standard stuff. i have yet to find the "hot queer crips for the revolution in rochester ny" website...dream on.

and hey, i have tons of stuff to sell....anyone interested in a small solar power system? or an 81 mercedes wagon w/ a single tank veggie oil conversion?....theres so much more...when i have a list, i'll post it.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

decision making...ugh

ok...i know i'm a broken record...but lets pretend for moment that i can get a house wherever i want....that the economics isn't so much the issue. just pretend ok? i feel i really relly need to decide if i'm going to go live in las vegas or pick up my life and go back to new york. they require very different things...things that i need to get going with soon. so .....


vegas is easier, i'm here already,i know the town pretty well. its an easy move for me and my animals, including the chickens which i could keep. i could also keep my old mercedes and not have to deal with getting a better car to drive across the country in. the sun shines all the time here. i don't have to sell everything i own to make a gigantic trip. theres hot springs up the road in the mountains . theres one funky little open mic at a cafe on the plaza every other week. the weaving co-op, tapetes de lana is there so i could make a little money. its 60 miles to santa fe.

all sounds rather logical , no?

ahhhh...but i worry that if i decide on las vegas i will be haunted by the desire to go home.

that sort of move requires a chunk of money. i can't imagine when i'll ever again have the resources to make a move like that.

but the flip side is what if i make this huge leap to new york and once the dust settles i'm reminded of all the reasons i left. the sun is rarely out. the winters are nasty cold. its industrial and crowded.

but my family is there, my history is there...and indian food...and mendon ponds...and water....real live queer people.

all of this internal debate is of course tainted by the recession...its hard not to feel like whatever choice i make that uses up this dwindling lump of cash will be kind of final. i don't feel i can tell myself " i'll just find an owner financed house in vegas, live there for spell and then sell the house and head home if i still feel the need."

the -sell the house- factor is highly questionable.

same goes for thinking i could head to new york, find a cheap owner financed house in the city and if i don't like it i'll SELL THE HOUSE and move.

everything feels so grim, like wherever i land is basically where i'll be riding out the fall of the empire and the changing of the suns so i better make a good head hurts.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

e.i. in the news...oh my

ahhhhh....once in a blue moon the media likes to drag out the circus tent for my favorite personal impairment, environmental illness. in this article, as usual, there has to be plenty of references to the probability that its a load of made up crap.
its also super typical for any mention of e.i. to be about some quirky, ineffectual, white, middle class woman. i firmly believe that chemical injury reaches everyone, but is especially endemic in lower class communities that are by and large exposed to the worst pollution we can offer up.

but anyway... i love how in this article the neighbors are more concerned with their property values than this womans quality of life....which is where the opinion that she's making it all up comes in very handy.

my god, its too sad that this is still where things are at. I've identified many of my impairments as being related to chemical exposure for over a decade now. that there is still such mainstream resistance to the idea, never mind the reality, that the overwhelming toxicity of our environment is making people sick is just mind-boggling. what a snow job the chemical giants and petroleum companies have done on everyone for the last 50 plus years.

and the real life, on the ground ramifications of the popular, denial-laden opinion that "its all in her head" are frightening. I should know. its related to why i go weeks, sometimes months w/out human touch. why i have such a tiny tiny social circle that hasn't expanded in years. why i'm always on the verge of living under a freakin' bridge somewhere and often wondering how it is i'm supposed to survive the rest of my life.

i don't get ssi checks for having environmental illness. even though that was the case i presented. i get those paltry checks for being crazy, for thinking that chemicals is why i'm such a wreck....its a loooooong string of crazy labels. which i wear with pride, mind you, but the irony is heavy...and a bit frightening.

Friday, October 17, 2008


we've just about the best visitor EVER here for a few days, her name is miel, she's just being weened from full height, head up, the tips of her ears come to my shoulder. her mom has fallen ill and has been taken to the vet so miel came here for a spell...she has fur like a chinchilla and she is super mellow. too fucking cute.

my mom sent me these from home in the finger lakes in new york where she lives...ohhhhh i miss the fall colors!
and heres a shot of a house i'm considering buying in las vegas.
the inside needs finishing. its an old adobe that burned down at some point leaving just the walls and some folks in santa fe have started the rebuild but can't finish so are trying to sell it. below is a shot of the attic which i think has the potential to be a totally dreamy space.Now, its not for sure that i can get it financed, and i'm also not sure that vegas is really where i want to end up since i'm still pretty enchanted by the thought of going home to rochester.....hmmmmm. certainly a move just 25 miles up the highway to a small town that i know pretty well is much easier than a 2000 miles move to a bigger city that i haven't lived in for 18 years....but when the dust settles what will i think? we will see.....i don't quite have the luxury of "choice " yet...i'll know in a few days.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

my new friend

is this million year old la mancha lady.she came here to retire and she's looking much better than when she arrived. she ain't no wooly wonder but she'll do for now. my old lady goat band-aid on the sheep wound. she doesn't have a name but i call her eleanor.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

the aftermath

is not pretty.
you'd think someone died! i'm doing a bit better each day...a little less sobbing, still some weeping...esp. in the morning when i first wake up.
its like a part of me is missing.
its esp. hard when i go out to feed the horses...theres no wooly bodies extending from mine. no little hooves clammering across the bridge, running up behind me out in in front of me, jumping and butting heads in play.

its so empty. quiet.

i can't reach down and casually touch their wool as they pass me, get that earthy greasy smell on my hands.

i'm avoiding the now empty pen as best i can...if i go in there i just start crying some more and honestly crying is hurting at this point....hurts my stomach and neck muscles. i'm so drained.

i had no idea it would be this hard. i underestimated how much of me was connected to them.

hard right now esp. since i don't have an exact destination yet. it would feel different if after their new owners drove off into te sunset with them i could have turned around and said "ok! time to pack and move into my new home and start my new life"...but i'm still here, right next to that damn empty pen, trying to figure out what the hell i should/can do given my means and abilities.

oh my sheep....i miss my sheep.

i'm scraping myself together. i'll get there, wherever that is. i get so attached to things...people, animals, houses, routines, rhythms...its my inner only child....transient, welfare-class , single parent only child.

i get attached...i can't help it.

Monday, October 6, 2008

the sheep leave tomorrow

i don't have the umph to say much about it. too many little voices saying its not necessary, i'm giving up to soon, i just haven't figured out the right strategy yet or found the right place. those little voices compete with the louder voices i don't want to hear yelling "you are too poor to keep them".

i love them. i'll miss them. i'm already a weepy mess.
tomorrow is going to suck.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

all you have to do is shoot yourself...

I love how Fannie-mae didn't see any ethical or moral problem w/ evicting a 90 year old woman from her home that she'd lived in for 30 years....not until she shot herself and some bad press got out about it....lovely.

and these the heartless greedy robots we just "bailed out" w/ 700 billion dollars of our money.....

Mortgage forgiven for woman, 90, who shot herself

AKRON, Ohio - Mortgage finance company Fannie Mae said it is forgiving the mortgage debt of a 90-year-old woman who shot herself in the chest as sheriff's deputies attempted to evict her.

Addie Polk's plight was cited by Rep. Dennis Kucinich, D-Ohio, on Friday before the House voted to approve the $700 billion financial rescue package. Kucinich voted against the plan.

Fannie Mae announced later Friday that it would dismiss its foreclosure action, forgive Polk's mortgage and allow her to return to the Akron home where she's lived since 1970.

"Just given the circumstances, we think it's appropriate," Fannie Mae spokesman Brian Faith said, citing Kucinich's statement and news reports. "It certainly made our radar screen."

Polk remained in Akron General Medical Center and was expected to recover from chest wounds suffered last week.

She became the home's sole owner in 1995 when her husband died, then took out a mortgage loan in 1997 and refinanced several times, court and property records show.

Countrywide Home Loans filed for foreclosure last year, and Polk's home was sold to Fannie Mae at a sheriff's auction in June. Deputies were to escort Polk from her home Wednesday when gunshots were heard inside.

Polk's longtime neighbor, Robert Dillon, climbed through her window and found her lying in bed bleeding with a gun next to her. He visited Polk in the hospital on Friday.

"She said it was a crazy thing to do, now that she's had time to think about it," Dillon said.



Friday, October 3, 2008

thoughts on being lower class

poor is never being able to make informed, consensual decisions about your life
but instead just reacting to things that happen to you.

poor is not knowing if you'll ever live in a decent house
without holes in the walls
leaking pipes
missing insulation
or old windows with drafts that sway curtains

poor has no bootstraps
no fridge full of food

poor waits for the month to end

poor is a single pane
cold draft at your back

whispering hurry

-for kathleen

Thursday, October 2, 2008

UFW calls weekend of action against WHOLE FOODS

ah yes...a chance to hassle snarky ol' anti-union take over the planet whole on....

Please join in the weekend of action to call on Whole Foods
to live up to its claim of social responsibility.

Members and supporters of the United Farm Workers, International Brotherhood of the Teamsters, National Farm Workers Ministry, Organic Consumers Association will leaflet at Whole Foods stores across the country on the weekend of Oct. 4.

The four organizations are standing in support of workers employed at the Beef Northwest feedlots where Country Natural Beef finishes its cows. Whole Foods is the largest retailer of Country Natural Beef.

Whole Foods prides itself in saying that social responsibility is a cornerstone of its belief system and it expects the same from its vendors. However, despite numerous appeals by Beef Northwest workers, Whole Foods dismisses the fact that Beef Northwest doesn’t treat its workers with dignity and respect which are central components in the ideology behind social responsibility.

“Whole Foods has the opportunity to act on the side of social responsibility, but it chooses not to,” said Arturo Rodriguez, UFW President. “It would appear that Whole Foods only cares about certain classes of society.”

Workers at Beef Northwest approached the UFW in the fall of 2006 seeking union representation. During that time, the UFW has supported the workers while the company has refused to come to the table to negotiate, and has threatened and intimidated workers. There are currently two lawsuits pending against Beef Northwest including one for failure to pay overtime.

Supporters will be leafleting in front of dozens of stores across the country.
If you do not live by one of these locations, you can still help by printing out the leaflet and bringing it to your local Whole Foods manager and urge them to tell corporate headquarters it's time to get involved.

to print out a flyer and get more info,go it!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

self portrait, latest blanket and a cool bug

made from my own sheep! its big, heavy, earthy, entirely handspun and handwoven and its for sale. drop a line for more info if you're interested.

i have never seen one of these before. like alittle dinosaur.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

who's afraid of an old mid-sized industrial city?

oh...i'm not even sure what the hell i'm gonna write about. i just know its been a while and i start to feel this need to post SOMETHING...ANYTHING....lest i lose my blog status and you will all wander off and forget me.

the eternal search for where to go next continues...balanced relatively well by lovely weather, a big yummy handspun blanket i'm weaving and lots of praying mantis, which are just about my favorite bugs ever. right up there with wolf spiders, inch worms and cicadas.

these past couple of days i've been toying with idea of returning not only back to new york, which is nothing new, but back to rochester....specifically the southwedge which is my old neighborhood from my sordid youth.If i were to get super specific i'd go back to swillburg, which is now being called part of the southwedge in some not so successful attempt to gentrify that tiny neighborhood.
i don't think i could return to swillburg. evenon the off chance it is all crack house free and queer friendly these days. i've too many bad memories there.
like getting chased by men with baseball bats. and that guy that blew his brains out in the street in front of our house.and being dropped off at the end of my street in the early morning after my first date rape experience. he was 26. i was 15.he picked me up in a bar.that morning it was cold out, i didn't have enough clothing on, i think it was a school day.
the smell of poverty and alcoholism that permeated our house.

so no, probably not heading back to swillburg. but the southwedge extends all the way over to mount hope cemetery and the river and up to highland park and all the way downtown.

i think i'm recycling around in my real estate search. after a spell of looking here in new mexico, its a giddy thrill to take a look back home where everything is so economically depressed that you can pick up a house for 30k....hell, i've seen them for 8k on the north side. ofcourse then your in an area thats really suffering, houses boarded up, not a grocery store or anything for that matter anywhere in sight. strange to think that my family hails from the northside. my great great grandparents from lithuania had a house there. my great grandparents had a general store on st. paul blvd.

but still, compared to here, where you can't get a house at all for less than 200k, and that won't be nothing special. 120k in rochester will get you a fucking palace.

so i dabble with dreams of home, in all its working class glory. i know that old city . i can wander the streets in my mind. i know them all. its where i first fell in love. where i came out. where i dreamed about the world beyond. where i slept in doorways and ran around on rooftops and burned up all that youthfull immortality.

my teenage years were all about escaping that place. now its some sort of full circle fantasy for me.

we can't escape who we are.

i bask in the thrilling idea of getting in my car and driving east.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

when you're in trouble, go into your dance

i've been horribly depressed....and stressed....and generally kinda flipped out.
it hasn't been pretty.

i'm feeling a bit better these last couple of days. scraping myself together.
managing to laugh at things. this is crucial.

its scary when i can't find the laughter.

ive managed to plaster over the chaos w/ a thin veneer of -its okay-. for now anyway.

i seriously can't take this isolation anymore. and while its not quite as extreme as it was in chacon,and at least i'm not hungry now and i have running water and plenty of electricity, i'm done with it.

at my wits end.

coping mechanisms are worn out and ragged.

like an old poem of mine, "...some old car with tics and dings and rusting parts beyond repair..."

i feel i should have made a bigger leap when i sold chacon. this here place is too similar. and w/ gas costs getting higher and higher its harder for me to go places and its just as hard for people to come here. and theres too many animals....blasphemous but true, and most of them aren't even mine. but at one point in the throws of my breakdown i was convinced i needed to not only get rid of the sheep and chickens but also the dogs and cats...all of them. no dependents...i suspect so that i could then truly spiral downward into certain disinegration or demise w/ out feeling like i'm abandoning anyone. but alas...a long as i'm still here there's still animals that need me...they aren't mine and its my job...dammit.

its easy to romanticize this life. the farmer, the shepherd, the spinster. i do it, when i can. altho i fear its now one of my newly defunct coping mechanisms. i'm going on 6 years of no tangible community. everyone i know is really really far away. no one stops by. ever. my last 4 birthdays have been just well as christmas, new years, all solstice and equinox get the idea.

this past week i've felt distinctly like i was slipping through the cracks.
you know...
if a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it...does it make any sound?

so....if its now -operation end isolation-...what do i do? i look almost religiously for a place to buy w/ my ever dwindling nest egg from selling the chacon cabin. but w/out any mortgage capacity its slim pickins'.usually something that would be at all attainable is just another middle of nowhere situation...and on the verge of needing to be torn down not lived in.

and even though renting can be a mine field for e.i's, i look for rentals in town but everything would require my entire ssi check...and then some.

santa fe civic housing is flat out NOT accepting section 8 applications right now..."maybe starting next year". with the economy tanking and the housing scene so fucked up its no surprise everyone and their mother is after section 8.homeless shelters are seeing record numbers as well.

lingering in the air is still this idea of building in my friends backyard...but oy veh...we're a long way from reaching consensus on like i lingers...and i'll tell ya, i'm not too fond of havin' all my eggs in a lingerin' basket.

but like i said, for now i've managed to paste over the fear and futility with this eerie calm. a hard earned skill.
I weave,i chat with animals like doctor fucking doolittle, i watch movies, i dance and stretch, sometimes i pace and talk to myself or stare out the window.
sometimes i start to weep...just a little
and i sing while i do the farm chores...
"what if your hinges all are rusting
what if in fact you're just disgusting
razzle dazzle em' and they'll never catch on....."

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

like butterscotch

and chocolates fingering
tongues in a caramel dream time meltdown

a resurrection from certain doom
there was a numb nothing

just a shell of me

then a cracking sound

then everything was chocolate milk toffee
coffee cake crumbling
all over the bed
all over my skin
dream it endless
dream it too good to be
and sweet.

Monday, September 1, 2008

many morning glories

the horse pasture down below is absolutely COVERED. its quite something.

Friday, August 29, 2008

swollen lamb

so heres some shots of little sirens state of rattler the untrained eye maybe not too much to look at. but her whole jaw/throat/nose is like a balloon!

she should look more like lupe here.

i have to bonus is that its nice and quiet since siren can't be yellin' her head off as per usual....ahhhh.
she seems able to breathe...its been about 16 hours since the main concern is wether or not she's drinking water. I'm not sure wha elset i can do for her. any suggestions?

Thursday, August 28, 2008

the owl and the rattlesnake

maybe you all are just plum tired of my owl stories. well, too bad for you then since i've another to tell.

last few nights theres been the orchard owl right outside my bedroom window just hoo-hoo-ing loud i can't sleep.i haven't heard one in months. last night it started up before it was completely dark so i snuck out onto the porch and caught a glimpse of it atop the telephone pole next to my house.

so as the usual protocol i've been extra careful, mindful of everything i'm doing.worrying and wondering about my friends keeping an extra watchful eye on all the many many animals. we've got these neighbor dogs...dogs known to have torn a goat to bits...that have been getting onto the farm through some damn hole in the fence and harassing our visitig goats so just to be safe i've penned the goats in the orchard down below.


i come out of the studio just before dark and the sheep and dogs are hanging out by the house when i hear that distinct sound of a pissed off rattlesnake. i haven't seen a rattler in years...we didn't have them in the high mountains. but there it was right in front of the house , hugging the edge of this grassy bush. so it rattled and hissed and lashed out at siren, one of my lambs. it was all so fast. she flinched and shook her head, so theres a chance she was bitten.

but right then i had to deal with this snake in my yard. i got the dogs and cats , put them in the house, shooed the sheep far away and had a panicky think. i went in the house and despite the sweltering heat, put on jeans, boots a denim jacket and thick gloves. i had the idea to spray it with water to try and at least get it away from my front door, which worked. watching it slide along the ground...not very hurried...was quite something. it was huge. and doubt well fed on all the big chunky frogs we've got all over the place.

i got it out to the driveway but realized it wasn't gonna go far. it just wasn't that impressed with me and my water and besides, my hose had reached its full length. so i dropped that and instead grabbed an old tin trash can, went over to the snake which was at this point coiled and pissed and waiting.

i covered it.
and had a another panicky think.
i thought about ways i could try to catch it up into the can and relocate it but it all seemed too risky. i'm alone here, ive no snake bite kit and beside me, theres too many animals that could get nailed. i realized i had to kill it.

i'm not a big fan of killing things. not at all. save for mosquitos, I'll stop and help drowning bees out of a water trough, i'll trap a spider in a jar and get it out of the house...once i relocated a black widow that had decided to nest in a high traffic area outside the house.

but this felt far more serious. so i grabbed my axe from the back of my truck, went over to the can, tipped the edge up slightly and waited. after a few minutes it peeked its head out and i made this gutteral determined sound and i smashed its head...then just kept bashing at it, the same -haaah- sound escaping my lungs with each blow.

then i dropped the axe and cried. i asked the snake to forgive me.

i'm relieved its dead. how horrible is that.

so the owl lets me know about death even when i'm the one that will make it happen.

tomorrow i'm goin to vegas to get a rattle snake bite kit...or 2.

the evolution of an idea

so theres this semi plan in motion to try and create a living space for me in my good friends sizeable back yard in santa fe. this is likely the only way i'd ever be able to live in a city like santa fe.

the family compound concept is a big deal for a buncha reasons.

i'd be investing money into someone else's property. and its a lot of effort and time and processing.
its also the fact that i'd be giving up the full time farmer thing...for now. I'd be mostly in the city, the noise and business and pollution and lack of space.

the obvious postives are that i'd be able to write more, perform more, ride my bike instead of drive, rest my body a while...and possibly have the chest surgery i'm pining for since i'd have a suitable recovery space and time.
and i wouldn't be so damn isolated.

but ofcourse theres also the harder stuff about co-habitation....esp. among crips, which we both are. and esp. among lovers, which we are as well.
steadfastly polyamorous and not primary...but still...its another level.

and the crip stuff, 2 crips sharing space, conflicts in know, damaged goods shackin' up together can be kinda high maintenence. but for me particularly around e.i and class....i'm aware of the fact that on some level i moved myself up to chacon, on a mountain side, all alone in order to find respite from the constant struggle to have community.the struggle to have any kind of close relationship w/ someone who doesn't have e.i. always theres the blatant disparity between us to navigate. the non-ei's ability to form all sorts of friendships,to go to school, work, events, parties... to just be in public vs. my moderately to predominately homebound life.

on the mountain this was my own business. and i could bury that reality beneath the romantic notion of the spinster/shepherd on the mountain top...or i could try anyway.


But really, before i get too wound up in all the emotional details and logistics...we have to try and ascertain how much the dwelling would cost to create. as usual its economic feasibility first....THEN life decisions.

but i'm finding myself w/ my fingers crossed since it sounds like a potentially challenging, healthy idea....terrifying and who knows if it'll crash n' burn....but right now, it feels worth the leap. its the -fool- card in all its glory.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Dogs and I

just returned from an event filled journey to santa fe...and we're all a little tired.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

goats and rainbows

we've some guests here at the farm for a spell while their home digs get renovated. goats are great in a lot of ways, fucking hysterical and really friendly. but man they are a pain in the ass. getting into everything...onto everything....through everything.
really makes me appreciate my sheep.

and this here is the buck. he stinks.he pees on his face. he makes these gurgling snorting sounds and kind of waddles around. he's like some sort of gnome/troll type creature out of a fairy tale......kinda creepy

lots of rainbow action lately w/ all the rain. heres a nice double...

my latest housing plan is to try and get a little place right in town...either vegas or santa fe and kinda float between the farm and of both worlds. hoping to get a place that would accomodate my mom as well....i think the sunshine out here would do her good. ahhh but this is just a plan/scheme in a long line of plan/schemes eh? but having one at least gives me a goal...even for a little while....i don't do well w/out a plan!

Saturday, August 16, 2008

peering inward, hands trembling

rain rain rain rain rain.

My visitor has gone, theres no baling of hay happening due to the rain factor and everything seems soooo vast and quiet, seductive and excruciatingly solitary.

visitors from big cities are always so odd to have around. their lives from their own mouths seem so unreal to me. So cerebral, indulgent, and steeped in human drama. And they observe the farm in passing, storing bits of memory in their travel bag, souvenirs of endless space, animals lives and high desert quiet.

i don't miss the big cities.

but...that said, the quiet now tells me i miss the pitter patter of human activity. i enjoyed the sound of someone doing dishes in the next room. The sight of someone passing by outside the window, knowing someone sleeps in the shop next to the house in the early morning while i write the my desk.

the rain lets up to a drizzle.

the quiet tells me i'm tired of doing this alone. tired of being the only human heart beat.
the only hands.

i want to hold hands while sunflowers bloom and track the days passing. someone to bring in greens and carrots from the garden smelling like earth, singing a low song and planning for winter.

theres a chill now in the morning, the sun rises so much later and theres nothing quite like the warmth of a human body to my frame. the bloods journey beneath smooth skin and that slight give of ones bones to accomodate the embrace.

the warmth.the hands.

ahhh. such a poet....always longing for something.

the rain has stopped.

Monday, August 11, 2008

tid bits....its all i have

hey there all of you.
i've a visitor right now. so seeing as i live in a hallway...things are tight and i don't have too much room left in the ol' brain for blogging.

its been raining like build an ark amounts of rain.

my little chickens are not so little anymore! and their voices are changing...they've dropped an octave or so.

somewhere deep inside my brain/heart is a storm brewing, i'm just too preoccupied and/or stubborn and/or scared to look at the enormity of it. the lightening searing through dark space. the pressure bearing down. the sky ready to flood.

and theres a tower ready to fall.

to be continued....

Sunday, August 3, 2008

where is erin?

i've been swallowed by the heat.
i wake up at 5am and have a window of about4 or 5 hours to get as much done as possible and then i slip into a heat induced stupor til around 8 pm then make some food and go to bed.

i think i handle the cold better than the heat. when its cold i just add another sweater and stay busy...or get into a bed with a hot water bottle beneath a pile of comforters and sleep.

with the heat...what can you do? i can only get so naked...can only lie so still for so long...can only get in a cold bath so many times...
i miss the mountains.

so heres some photos...this way it seems like i'm posting interesting stuff without my brain actually having to work. i swear that thinking too hard just makes me hotter.

check my chiapas corn...its a good 12 ft high or so!!!!! no ears yet though... its putting up a good fight against the grasshoppers but we'll see.theres a lizard on my window...some yarns i've managed to spin despite the fact that wool is the last goddam thing on the too hot planet i want to be touching.and then there is me...sweltering me.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

hot water makes it all better

i need to just take a moment here to savor the fact the right now...this very moment...i have plumbing complete with hot water.
a handy neighbor came and fixed it all good.
i've had 3 baths in the last 24 hours.

its a drug makes everything better....i just soak the pain/stress away.
suddenly being here aint so bad
suddenly i'm centered and calm enough to spin yarn, sit still and look around.
suddenly i don't know if the sheep should go.
and where i should go don't matter so much when i'm in the bathtub.

a drug . a first world luxury at my finger tips.

at least for now.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

ok...brace yourselves

I'm considering finding a home for my sheep.
blasphemous i know i know...but it seems an important step in figuring out what in hell i'm gonna do with my strange little life.
having them, as fantastic as they are, seriously reduces my options. in all reality i'm too poor to keep them. They are the main reason i came to live here on this farm, where their feed is paid for, since it was proving near impossible to find anything i could afford that could also accomodate them.
and lets not forget that the struggle to feed them through winter was a large part of why i had to sell chacon...while stubbornly holding on to my sheep.
and on a purely economic level its much more affordable and way less work to simply buy fleeces every spring than to actually raise the animals myself.
oh, but i loooooooooove them.

so, in a moment of clarity and self-determination, i posted some ads online thinking...ok i've got all the time in the world, esp. since i'm not actually moving anywhere yet...i'm gonna just start the search for THE perfect home for super picky...its hurry.

so ofcourse the very first reply i get, like the next day, is from a woman that has what sounds to be pretty damn near THE perfect situation.


First off, she titled the email to me "your incredible sheep".


Secondly, she grew up on a sheep farm in pennsylvania and now lives on a small farm near taos w/ her partner, 8 acres, chickens, a goat and a columbian ram named "puff"
she wants a small flock in order to learn her grandmothers craft of handspinning.

oh sigh.

so now everything in me is screaming no! no! no!...not yet! its waaaay too quick. what will i do w/ out them? without their greasy wooly yumminess to sink my fingers into. W/out the sense of purpose they give to my ridiculous level of isolation. w/out their knowing eyes and steady presence that i rely on when i'm weeping and lonley. w/ out their gorgeous fleeces that keep me blissfully busy at my spinning wheel all year?

but then i look around...remember that this is not my place, my struggle with that, my dependency on living here to even be able to keep them, my lack of options and dwindling resources, that i need to be able to move when the time comes.

oh but it hurts....i want them with me wherever i go.

Friday, July 25, 2008

another return

split into too many desperate desires
like a star exploding momentarily brilliant into blackest space
scattered pieces lost others might shine bright
always moving in and out of light

told a close friend that all i want is to belong somewhere
attached bound to unquestionable presence and purpose

radiate out from some gravitational center
pulling me back in perpetual revolve
round an axis
call it love

all i want is to belong somewhere
rise and set
in an unquestionable pattern
of light


having finally slept after god knows how long, i can finally say i'm back...but can't quite get myself to say i'm home.
my tongue goes stiff with the word
but i'm back where my animals reside. all the fur and wool and feathers.

the time in new york was mostly occupied with looking at properties with my mom and a lot of driving driving driving.but somewhere in all that we stopped at other locals as well. One place we went was the rochester folk art guild in italy, and for whatver reason i totally spaced on the taking of photos, which is too bad because its kind of an amazing place.Not only do they have facilities for every kind of craft you can think of, they also grow a ton of food. I wouldn't mind being in residence at a place like that.
here, as above, i'm standing in keuka lake with my sister echo.and this little store is one of many in the finger lakes, this is in watkins glen...i marvel at it only because we don't have these little stores here...whole foods has eaten them up. Luckily there is no whole foods in western new york.and this is the devils bathtub in mendon ponds where i grew up...just a series of ponds and swamps and forest...mmmmmmm.
and i also got a new tattoo from my life long friend sue. and when i say life long i'm not jokin' around, we've know eachother since we were 7 years old
our real estate search was fruitless for the most part, although it was super informative. I've all sorts of thought to sort out as far as what to do with my life...where to go with it....much motivated by being back here on the farm for less than a day only to have the questionable plumbing in my little oven of a hallway house blow a fantastic leak so now i have no water at all. what the fuck is it with me and running fucking water????