on and on

Ya know what’s funny... I don’t believe we ever referred to zbook pages as ‘spreads’ before this here blog. It’s a delight to call them so, now, over and over again!



we (will) influence

On a journey I fly with this weeks spread,

across yellow headed meadows, along sparkling pumpkin fields,

 through dreams of sound, below hallowed ground.

GO GO GO GOG GO GOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGO
Says the sprawl across the top... and in true form, it reflects my inner questionings needs... My body near collapsed yesterday, in fever fit...the day before, my son did burn high. Today, with weakness’ will, I washed some laundry, played checkers with Hallie, cut cantaloupe with Jack, wrapped up 7th grade mid-term reports, and on and on.



the eyes are the windows to the soul,
and fire burns.

 Husband, Tony and I have been engaged in talks of GoD of late. There has definitely been reference, with immediate synchronicity, to the ‘eyes being windows to the soul (or GoD)’ reflectioning here in zspread of ‘we (will) influence’. (Speaking of this spread, I wish I had some close-ups, and perhaps I’m calling on a resurgence of this spread in another week, thus profound as it is in our estimation.).
Back to the fevers: Allowing the opportunity for let down, to permit a fever to burn hot, it’s such a rare gift...especially in adulthood.
As children, we can hope we were given this opportunity, to be nurtured in fever, to be permitted close-down. It is a gift to the body, and I daresay a necessity to the growing child. Fever burns and incinerates and hopefully does enough clearing to surrender new growth. It is incredibly stunning to see in a young child, this growth maturation after fever onslaught. Of course, fever in the head is a very serious thing, and when Jack’s fever was burning, we were lemon compress wrapping his feet and massaging his lower extremities to pull the fever into the body, out of the head a bit...it works!

For me, I slept and curled myself into covers and blankets. Finally after a full day, from mid-morn to post dinner eve, my fever broke, I was sweating. Headache and aches continued into midnight, then I chose to take 2 advil and slept till morn....
This kind of ill, when fever takes over to do it’s powerful work, always reminds me of the week I returned from 9 months abroad. Only once in my traveling mode during those months did I find a haven in which to engage in let-down, where my body expressed fever intensely to burn out some bugs. That week of returning, I dropped down into an all day fever, very hot, and allowed my body to heal itself with fire. It was the day I realized how valuable this fever reprieve is. And so, now, I value it with great gratitude, when it comes, and I offer it my thanks when it grooves with rhythms of life in my lane.

Peace to all in heart and soul, and Happy New Year loved ones near and far.

-J.G.

p.s.(l). did I ever mention that for some insane reason, this spread conjures feelings of bowling for me??! What is that!

 

One more note... this return I spoke of was in alignment with my Grandma Pearl's 80th Birthday Celebration.
Shout out and prayers to Grandma Pearl, now a stunning 92, as she regains strength following some heart-wrenching traumas! 
Cheers and life to you Grandma!

week thirty eight >> "we (will) influence"

Happy 2011!  Wow, just as I thought I was used to the 2000s this year of 2011 hits and it feels as surreal as ever. Most likely because I have never experienced a decade of teens; all these early century years are tripping me out. What do we even call this decade?  There were the 70's, the 60's, the 90's, the 20's and I guess we referred to the last decade as the 2000's, but this one, what? the 2010's? Seems weird.  I say teens, but 2010-2012's 10-12 are not actually teen numbers.  I guess we are in pre-teen years :)  ...I do know one person who has lived in teen numbered years... my grandma Tata, who was born in 1911! Although her birthday isn't for 9 more months, I am celebrating NOW.  It is 2011 after all, officially 100 years since 1911. But just because she has known years ending in teen numbers doesn't mean she is any less tripped out by the 2010's, in fact my mind-trip pales in comparison to Tata's!  Imagine not only reaching 100 years from when you were born, but also just look at how our world has changed and how fast over these past 100 years.  Exponentially so.... to the point that even I today, born only 36 years ago, am astounded by how fast everything is changing in the past 10 years and feel slightly dizzy most of the time.  I've got to give it up to Tata. She is alive in 2011. She is WELL, sO well and sound in health and mind, so present, and still so focused on life... all as she faces what might as well be an entirely new planet she lives on.

100 years... what a trip!  and the journey continues...... what are we going to do with it?                  We (will) Influence. 

we (will) influence          click to view

 

That is Z page for this week, and a reminder for me that our "resolutions," which I feel as my intentions, are activated by feeling it NOW, what is coming is already HERE, not out of my will, but out of my acknowledgment and meeting it with my action.  This year we meet the magic of what we've cultivated and discovered in the past 15 years via ZBOOK with actions that launch our work into arenas where we may influence others to discover the creative forces they are... and how vital that is to their lives and our world.  And we begin with young women, ages 11- 21.  Ahh, there's that number again: 11.  Pre-teens and teens and young adult women... we want to remind you that your very essence is unique and your expression of it is a thing of beauty... be yourself, it's okay, and not only that, it's extraordinary and important.  Allow yourself to play and BE so that you can continue to discover your authentic voice in this world and speak it into creations that (will) influence the world.  Life is indeed a trip! ...ENJOY the journey and discover your unique PART of it!

∞ ceci

6

week thirty seven >> "sanctioned madness" BLUE december

Indeed.  

I wish to offer some poetic and universal truth to enliven this weeks post... indeed.
Somewhere in the strength of my shoulders, those juices are swirling... indeed.

For now, I'm weakened, in the chaos of familial madness... indeed.
My sweet Grandma, bless her heart, laid out from last weeks masectomy... indeed.



encapsulated in madness' warm juices



And now, here, tonight, again in the clutches of hospital wing care... indeed.

A fall, broken hip, otherside, to add to her recovery list...indeed.

Angel keepers, white and blue, please look down, showering starlight through her window...indeed.

Keep her warm, rested in calm, imbued with the love of all our prayers...indeed.

Blessings and healing thoughts go forth, take care, -J.G.

week thirty six >> "solstice" BLUE december

"solstice" click to view

Tonight we ring in the solstice of winter, the short day, the long night, the vast darkness on the brink of the coming of LIGHT. In the darkest moment we celebrate the LIGHT. Our LIGHT. We invite it, exalt it, feel it even before we can see it.

This Solstice will be powerfully and super specially initiated by a TOTAL lunar eclipse... thanks to this eclipse falling on the night we go into winter solstice, meaning the sun is shedding it's light at our earth's most south point and the FULL moon riding high north, we are in for a Total eclipse... the likes of which our earth last experienced 372 years ago in 1638 and will not again for another 475 years on the winter solstice of 2485.

It's interesting that on this long dark night there is the abundant LIGHT of the FULL moon and incredible that the typically unyielding FULL moon will be shaded completely for over a whole hour, with also partial cover for an hour before and after that main event. It will be like witnessing an entire moon cycle in the span of approx 3 hours.

How will we use this experience, this window of nothingness, this window of abyss, this night of FULL LIGHT opening up into the dark, the void, the space to state our case, our dream, our high intention for our lives. Perhaps this is a doorway, if we so choose. How do we choose to walk through it, and with what, and for why. And what will we gratefully leave behind. As the FULL LIGHT will quickly swell back into the night, perhaps with it could come the activation of our visioning... and by beautiful extension, permeating even more intensely, by the increasing light of each next day as we head into the new year.

. . . . . . Bon Hiver. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

and sweet visioning to you and yours.

∞ ceci

6

week thirty five >> "know you're alive" BLUE december

Z BLUE pages continue in December with "Know You're Alive."

"know you're alive"    click to view

Connectivity, the ensuing nuances of life experience, and the thrill of it all speak to me as I revisit this page.  BLUE veins surging between words of chance and response, curiosity and release.  I remember drawing very early on, perhaps the first markings on this spread, the computers facing each other with their reaching screen protrusions.  It was while we were still at school in 1996/97 and the internet had just hit the scene.  Only on campus though, our computers at home were merely for word processing back then.  Each student was given an UCSB email address and account.  Jennifer and I enjoyed a dialogue on line through email, even though we saw each other on a daily basis.  It was another arena entirely for us to commune through and what we conversed about in there was kept exclusive to only that realm, something we seemed to naturally agree to do with out ever speaking about it.  Having different arenas to converge our minds and hearts in turned out to be a mainstay of our friendship and collaboration..... Hello ZBOOK!  And unequivocally, our ever alive postcard exchange.  And now we find ourselves in yet a new playground right here.... ZBOOK 4EVER!  Exploring Z pages together via this blog has been quite thrilling and super fun.  So very much an extension of our art and storytelling and musing, ZBOOK4EVER is our home away from home, like a special place you visit in your mind... Jennifer and I meet up here and explore these pages that bubbled up through our fluid expression over 14 years of friendship, kinship, and co-creative partnership... and discover, right along with you, all the peculating possible adventures that ZBOOK presents.  Creating this art and traveling through it make for one heck of a way to Know You're Alive.

∞ ceci

6

swoon

There is a heady drunkenness bubbling all around in this spread of “Aguatulnico”. As if we, the viewers, are the senor, just emerged, from the martini glass. I personally prefer to take the stance of the winged bubble rider, floating up and out of the blue hue. The words at top “Traveling with style” apply directly to that sprite of fancy, decked out with her sweet umbrella. This tiny apparition, reminds me of myself I must admit. For a span of time, I styled around with the hippest umbrella; a purchase from an original cirque du soleil sighting – sections of red, blue, yellow and black. I tried to open it for a piece de resistance photo opportunity screaming down the drop of Splash Mountain – unfortunately, it did not survive, and to my dismay, the photo was awash as well.



Aguatulnico

Cec and I were invested in a triple threat theme park extravaganza at that time – episodes full of story. For now, I leave this page, a favorite of mine, for its sparkle and lunacy, with these deciphered words:

Luna, every woman’s friend,

To me, thy goodness, condescend

Let me, this night in visions see,

Emblems of my destiny.

How do I get there?

Sensing the road

Where can I get this?

In my dreams.

Be well and Blessings –J.G.

week thirty four >> "aguatulnico" - december BLUE pages!

"transmute"     click

As we deepen into winter during this december month, we celebrate a Bon Iver with Z BLUE PAGES from ZBOOK.  We dipped into blue with last week's "transmute" as last week we transitioned from november to december... and now we arrive into Z BLUE month and begin with this week's "aguatulnico," a very watery page~spread with whispers of glitter and a dash of stickers.

"aguatelnico"       click to w view large

What doe s Aquatelnico mean?  Beats the heck out of me... there coud certainly be a story there, or it's story could be that which hundreds of words scribed into ZBOOK share; the word, recognizable or not, escaped from the mouth and its music could not be denied and thus was captured in ZBOOK to muse over- 4ever.  Hemphill, any internal leads on this one, or the memory of the initial utterance and thus birth of the word?  Or maybe it shall remain untold and it's story is now in this moment in its life of mystery... inviting us to make up our own stories for the word and for the spread, now and every time we revisit the page.  Like going for a swim in reflecting pool... these cool waters feel warm and bubbly to me.

∞ ceci

6

sharing silence

-J. Lennon

Tonight, I witnessed shared silence like no other beauty yet to ufold.

Tonight, I sat in shared silence beholding to others warmed glow.

Tonight, I drank in shared silence deep down to the bottom of my big toe. -J. Gould

This night, Saturday before the second Sunday of Advent, the fourth night of Hannukah, the season of lights on the roof... This night, my family drove quietly to school in Altadena, dressed in Sunday finery, to take in our daughter's last class Advent Spiral. Hallie, a third grader, twinkling in her sparkly black, and our son, donning elfin hat and new green vest, walked the laid out spiral adding light to the dark.

The Advent Spiral at our Waldorf school is most often set up by the Kindergarten teachers and parents after school on the Friday before the second Sunday of Advent. Starting Thursday, community members bring in fresh boughs of spruce and fir, evergreens of all kinds, and pinecones. A couple of parents from each class planning to participate in the spiral, core apples and prepare them with beeswaz candles. In our schools Eurythmy room, the festival enliveners cut and entwine and lay out a double spiral of greenery, creating a path to the center for the children to walk. Along the weave, a few stumps with low candled lanterns, give lighted markers for the darkened room. Knee-high at center, a taller stump - with upright candle, crystals, cones, and greens, - stands as a beacon burning bright.

Tonight, upon arrival to school, we walked Hallie to her class, settled her in with dressed-up classmates, and then settled into the darkened Eurythmy room with all parents and siblings. The recorder teacher played light and lovely piano in the quiet room, helping us all to be absorbed in the meditative atmosphere. Jack too was able to melt into the flame-watching and deep inhaling in the room while we waited for the third graders to enter. Footsteps on the porch at a perfect piano pause, and then a hushed singing from the outside approaching childrens’ voices; the tone hit home for me as my breath caught in my throat a few beats.

“A gentle candle flicker, becomes a flame of gold...’’

Tonight, the line of angel singers stepped through, from out of the cold, into a silent room, and with their song, they carved the silence deeper still. Teacher told a silvery, blue-maned story and then cued the piano once more to play into the silent form. One by one, each child approached the spiral opening on turn, received their apple stuck candle, and made their way along the curves.

Each gait, each stride, each swish, each glide, each step a witnessed touch.

Each face, in the glow of the warm center flame, a marvel to be seen.

Each dip, each catch, each wick, each fetch, each sip of flame taken by each child to light their fire from the source, a miracle in plain sight.

Once each individuals flame was lit up, a return, out of the spiral, took place in slower pace. Careful and reverent, each child carried their flame to be placed upon a star along the spiral. And so, with each child, the brightness of the light beamed fuller into the space. Hallie was beautiful, so tall and confident in her choice of rhythm; she told me she was the ninth candle star. Following the twenty-two in the class, the siblings were invited to walk the spiral with their brothers and sisters. Hallie took Jack by the hand, and at the end of a long line of sibling pairs, he carried his apple, guided by his sister into the spiral flame. She lit the candle, with his hand placed upon hers, and in their glow, I was struck by pure beauty and joy. He led her out, while she carried his flame, and together they placed the last flaming star in the spiral. The third graders were led to their dark classroom while the parents gathered the apples. Each child was returned to their parent, and most then ate their apples. We relit our candles for our bedtime stories at home.

My household has yet to manifest an advent wreath; soon, soon, I hope. And when we do, we’ll light two flames along with the center source, and gather around the greens, emblems from our Advent poem. Then, each night, for three weeks still to come, we’ll speak, and sing and light our candles. It’s a silent worthy tradition – Bon Iver!!!

The First Light of Advent, It is the Light of Stones.

Stones that live in crystals and seashells, and bones.

The Second Light of Advent, it is the Light of Plants.

Plants that reach up to the sun, and in the breezes dance.

The Third Light of Advent, it is the Light of Beasts.

The light of Hope that we may see, In greatest and in least.

The Fourth Light of Advent, it is the Light of Man.

The light of Love, the light of Thought, to give and to understand.

'sharing silence'

I am so grateful for this season of light. May we feel the refuel and warmth which turning in offers profuse! I am grateful to zbook for continuing to show exponentially how our tune in frequencies keep up the charge!

Blessings and Be well One and All, -Jennifer

week thirty three >> "transmute"

"the opening" of Indulge celebrated on right    click to view

Back in May, in a post called "trust," I told the story about the first "official" collaboration that Jennifer and I did, a show called Indulge at UCSB. The left side of Z page~spread this week "Transmute" is the other side to a page (we have yet to present here in ZBOOK4ever) with shiny colorful stickers of champagne and cheer in celebration of "the opening" of our show on december 10th, 1996... turn the page and find this muted and rather dark page which mutters "the cleanup," the burnt colors bleeding unto it's preceding page, revealing the other side of the proverbial coin of "the opening." The experience that our show had offered included the indulgence of food for the senses, a lot of food, including a floor covered in powdered sugar for the shoeless to sink their toes in.  Well, we flirted with indulgence and indulgence toyed with us in return taunting, you want to play, okay, I'll overindulge you then... and all the indulgent amounts of yum soon verged on yuck... as the powdered sugar floor turned into a sticky mess. A sticky mess that was not forgiving in the least.  Powdered sugar, it looks sweet, but it is not to be underestimated; it is horribly stubborn in fact... as dear Jennifer found out the next day after our show. I had not anticipated the need for such an elongated "de-stall" time and had made plans for which I honored, simultaneously dishonoring the reality of the closure of our show's cleanup and Jennifer who was left to deal with the unruly bully who wouldn't budge from the gallery floor.  

"transmute"           click to view

One day soon after I opened ZBOOK to this burnt page with muttered words "the cleanup" and at once held my breath... until I hurt in my chest, until finally all I could choose to do was breathe again and with that breath came deep gratitude... for the immense cleanup that Jennifer took for the team... and for the friendship that made it possible for trust to allow the experience to transmute itself into a philosopher's stone of experience of surrender, forgiveness and love.  The aqua-blue spheres came through Jennifer's hand as well, I believe, and when they appeared on the right page the next year, I felt that the burnt terrain was being renewed with cleansing waters for a fresh new face of one doosey of a first collaboration.  The word Transmute blossomed onto the spread... now a reverence to the space, of time, trust, love, and breath that restores life experiences into a renewed form, stronger and mature and free to transmute again.  Thank you Hemphill for your earnestness in seeing our show All the way through and for loving me All the way through too.

∞ ceci

6

grateful still

"still"    click to view

click to view large

During the thanksgiving of 1996, I traveled to Sedona Arizona with my mom and PSL brother Hutch.  ZBOOK was barely a month old.  This was two weeks before our first collaboration show Indulge, for which much of the first writing in ZBOOK was brainstormed with.  On thanksgiving day my mama, Hutch, and I packed up a thanksgiving feast and hiked up the river bed up to Cathedral Rock at sunset.  It was stunning.  The watercolor sky seeping into the richest, deepest electric blue of twilight.  We got up close to the base, created a space for feasting, made a fire, and beheld both vistas... of the Cathedral formations to the west, illuminated by the last lingering light, and the expanded valley of stony wilderness below to the east, with the diamond moon rising over the arrival of night's sky embedded with it's blanket of stars.  We were quiet and still.... breathing and grateful.  At fireside, feeling Jennifer very much, I began to speak to her in the wind... so I pulled out ZBOOK and let the words fall on Z page... this one that ultimately became "still."           [click image on right]

sketch of Cathedral Rock from where we sat

Happy thanksgiving Hemphill, my dear friend, my sister in soul and partner in muse.  It is a delight to be in correspondence with you, flowing and circulating Still, 4ever. 

 

∞ ceci

6

week thirty two >> "still"

Where did we meet? In stillness, at one another's feet? Or was it in sleep?
Wherever , Whenever , our tendrils whirl in beat to strings in golden sheath, from time wherein.
-J.G.
11/24/10 Bbk, CA

There are so many stories to share in ones lifetime, yours, mine, ours and others... let's hear and speak them, honor the existence of each voices tales. I am so thankful for the many moments in colorful places shared and alone; times when holy spirit has flown through pulsing veins, interweaving life and friendship and understanding.
The title of this weeks, spread, 'still' comes from center page at right... - underlined, a piece of sentence from Cec's sharing of a Thanksgiving trip to Sedona, AZ :,
" its power swallows me still"


Happy Thanksgiving near and far - Peace and Goodwill to all,
-Jennifer

the launch

Our speaking engagement yesterday at UC Santa Barbara was a threshold for us and our work beyond measure.  We shared stories about our friendship, our collaboration, ZBOOK, our other books, and our new postcard project that we launched right then and there with the students: Z.POSTCARDS.  Because our engagement was to speak to the Personal Narrative class, we had the opportuntiy to delve into the performance aspect of the presentation.  In between power point segments, Jennifer performed a personal storytelling with words, movement, and the cutting of oranges... which she then 'passed out' to the students as I continued on into my sharing of history.  Also, for the duration of our "talk," we painted and created Live with watercolors and collage... as a way of sharing an experience of our cultivated modality of art making, versus an explanation.

The surface of our live painting was a "canvas" made of tiled blank postcards.  At the close of our talk we invited students to gather 'round to view the whole postcard piece and then select a card.  This was the launch of Z.POSTCARDS... our new project in which we initiate a newly crafted postcard, mail to anyone who wants to play, and when you receive yours you are invited to add your own mark of art, design, words, and expression to the postcard and mail it on, inviting others to continue the collaboration.  An invitation to play, create freely, let go, and discover the joys and possibilities through collaboration.  Each card is numbered and who knows, maybe someday some of them reunite and share the story of their journey, much like a balloon that's flown around the world.  The students from yesterday have the first cards of the project, and with that the opportuntiy to collaborate with us, plus to (re)discover the joys of the post! (as in the mail, something that seems to be quite forgotten these days)

The feedback from the class was wonderful and we had several stimulating exchanges with students after wards.  Most were sure that we knew about a website called PostSecret.  We said, what is that? Please tell us! Turns out to be so popular that you out there probably know of it already!  The students pointed out that the site is almost entirely geared to the college student market, as the creator of this project tours with his speaking engagements to all college campuses.  They thought maybe this is why we didn't know about it yet.  But upon visiting the PostSecret Facebook page I found a handful of my friends who already "like" it and many are far beyond college age, so how have we not come across it already? Crazy!  But SUPER glad to know of it now... so rad to learn something new from the students :) ~thanks so much!

PostSecret is an art project that invites us to mail in our secrets anonymously on postcards.  The postcards, the secrets, are then posted on the site.  That's it. And it is awesome.  The power of releasing secrets and reading other's has proven to be tremendous, capturing the attention of millions.  And the postcards themselves, the pieces of art people make of them to express beyond the words, are hugely compelling.  In the past 5 years, creator Frank Warren has published four PostSecret books of crafted and mailed in postcards of secrets.  Frank Warren also tours college campuses throughout north america with his speaking events called PostSecrect Live where he shares his story, yet to be shared secrets from a fist full of postcards not yet posted or published, the stories behind the secrets, and an open mic for students in the audience to voice their secrets.

Through our expereince in speaking about our work and performing our stories at UCSB yesterday, it became crystal clear that the power of the work we do is best conveyed face to face, in a live experience where we can tell our stories, share our passion, and speak on the teachings that have revealed through our work: the power of play, innovation, trust, and collaboration.  This is the start of something great, something that feels like it's been waiting for us to wake up to it, and yesterday was the launching point.  Thanks to our former professor Kip Fulbeck for inviting us to speak at his class, presenting us with the match with which to light this fire.   

It's funny, all this year I have been paying attention to "talks" and speakers themselves with adamant interest.  Primarily via TED talks and thru noticing how all the great teachers and innovators that I am inspired by are all active speakers and their speaking engagements are a major part of their careers.  Artists, scientists, authors, visionaries, and innovators such as Seth Godin, Elizabeth Gilbert, Sir Ken Robinson, Eve Ensler, Jill Bolte, Howard Rheingold, Michael Bernard Beckwith, and Jonathan Harris to name a few.  PostSecrect's Frank Warren, as I mentioned above, is yet another example.  And yet another is our 'SB prof. Kip Fulbeck, artist and university professor, 4 times published, who is continually invited to speak about his work and perform his poetry at schools, museums, and other events year round. 

We feel the noble charge to step up into the role of speaker.  As we now distill (thanks for the great word Kip!) and fine tune our direction and prime audience, we are choosing to begin with young women ages 12-22.

"all and everything"      click to view

One of these girls is shown on Z page this week "All and Everything" as we see Alice jump into the vast unknown... or launch, if you will.  And whether you be girl or boy, we all can relate to these moments that arise throughout our lives... when you are presented with the opportuntiy to step through to a new you, grab the ring, go for it, and jump... this is the launch that takes our work deep and wide, directly to eyes and ears and hearts everywhere.  We accept this noble charge with great honor.


∞ ceci
6

Jump!

postcards a flurry click to view

Today is an exciting day for ZBOOK! Today we speak at UC Santa Barbara, accepting the invitation from our former Professor Kip Fulbeck to speak at his Personal Narrative class, which we took 14 years ago, the same year that both our friendship and ZBOOK was birthed. In preparation for our presentation/performance I have been going through our mass collection of postcards which we've sent each other since that year of 1996. All of our stories could be told just with these postcards alone, they are rich with history gleaned from the date, place of origin, destination address, particular stamps, adorning details such as stickers and drawings, image on card itself, and of course the words written therein.

alice postacard -C to J- 6 July 1999

I came across this Alice postcard and smiled, as Jennifer brought the Alice from Z page this week, "All and Everything," to light in her last post. It's fascinating to re-discover a postcard you've written... it's as if seeing it for the first time! For truly we write 'em and mail 'em and only the recipient gets to truly become familiar with 'em. This postcard was written on July 6, 1998 from Boulder, Colorado by me to Jennifer who was living her summer in Santa Cruz and received my postcards via our PSL buddies Hutch, Coach, and Millar's house in the Redwood Estates mountains of Los Gatos, CA. Vinh and I were on a road trip at the time which what brought us passing through Boulder. The words speak of how Vinh and I had slept in our "capsule" van parked at a public park which we hucked disc at by moonlight the night before and how we were now waking up to a crowd of people just outside our tinted windows going to the near by church on sunday morning. And to that I wrote, "Many a night, especially when we don't have an exact place to sleep, I think about you & your travels. I think about you sleeping in the sand," referring to stories from Jennifer's travels around the globe after her grad from UCSB the year before.

"All and Everything" click to view

Travel, the unknown splendor of it all. Travel is the never ending rabbit hole. As is life. So fun to be a couple of Alices together in our creative mayhem Hemphill. Today... we jump!

∞ ceci

6

week thirty-one >> "all and everything"

Blood is pumping through my soul, excitement pulsing in my fingers. We are shedding another layer of manifestation this week as we and zbook head to Santa Barbara to share our personal and collaborative narratives. Using the healing gift of story and the image exploding opportunity of power point, Cec and I are climbing up the rabbit hole to lay down some funky right brain / left brain tonic into the atmosphere of studio 1340 on the UCSB campus this Wednesday, 11/17/10 – power twin intention... activate!

The metaphor of the rabbit hole arises this week as Alice appears in pink; falling, tumbling, slipping down our red gelatinous drawing toward the web of childhood playground. I myself fell down a rabbit hole once in India. I was minding my own business, absorbing the spicey coast of Goa, India, when a young English woman named Jane showed up one afternoon saying she wasn’t sure why she had left where she had just come from. Being the incredibly helpful and insightful travelor that I am, and was, I responded, “why, you came to find me and take me back to that place from whence you came.” And so it was, that Jane and I boarded a crickety, stickity, old bus and bounced for thirteen hours across the country to Pune, India. After such a journey, we emerged into light once more, dropped at the doorstep, at the gate actually, of the OSHO Commune International. To gain entrance into this community, which I desired, I submitted to an AIDS test, negative, and soon after began a six week meditative exploration in a buddha field.

One of the guides who emerged in that time space for me, was a beautiful, round, bubbly Indian woman named Nirmala. Each night, to prepare for the evening gathering meditation, all attendees bathed and donned white robes, dresses, gowns, anything free flowing, just white. Nirmala invited herself into my shower and captured my attention with her stories. She was having an affair with a smitten Englishman and her Greek husband was aware and troubled. I believe she had been to the Ashram several times, in her youth, when the master, Bagwan Osho, was alive, and now she was back for a stay again, along with her husband, though they kept separate apartments in town. My own apartment finder had been linked to me through Jane, who had been conned into bed by the swindler on her first visit (before returning with me). He was always trying to seduce me it seemed, though I was quite guarded with my sexual energy at the time still. Nonetheless, I was very grateful to him for helping me find a little nook to call home in Puna during my stay. There was a communal hole for a toilet, and there were a few other temporary dwellers in a couple of surrounding rooms, but the main occupant of the apartment was a sweet woman who always had a smile for me and helped me feel safe and welcomed. I didn’t spend much time there, nights occasionally, it was mostly a place I could keep my belongings dry and secure.

Nirmala’s apartment, which I had the pleasure to overnight in a couple of times, was a glass-walled, wood-floored, book-laden, zen-haven. Her space overlooked the rushing river running along the town.

One morning, after a night of debauchery with some young Italian boys we had commandered, I awoke in the dawn hour, feeling very light and energized. I sat facing the river with my sketchbook and pens in hand and proceeded to engage my own deep meditation with a colored spiral drawing. After some time, Nirmala joined me by the window and our speaking commune was so entwined, that we both felt elevated into a different rhythm. Nirmala, who had a very active third eye, told me later that she could see me like a buddha. For me, it was my most enlightened moment thus far experienced in this life. Afterwards, as we joined the Italians for breakfast and then ventured to a lake retreat for the day, I felt so connected and clear headed, everything felt joyous and light, and I felt that I could see through any bullshit... it was a turning point in life for me.

During my stay at the commune, I participated in many aspects of community life, and engaged in most of the daily meditations and a couple of the special, intensified offerings. At lunch everyday, after eating, I could sit along one of the exterior corridors, and listen to a taped recording of Osho speaking. Some of the most memorable teachings came from those lunch hour sessions. Often, he would speak about people, those wise and otherwise as well. More than once, I recollect Osho referring to a man called Gurdjieff, and always he spoke with respect for his teachings. Thus, when I came across the writings of G.I Gurdjieff when I was back in LA, perousing the Bodhi tree bookstore, I took home the books and entered the worlds of “All and Everything”.

All and Everything is a three part series. The first massive part, Beelzebub’s Tales to His Grandson, is purportedly an avenue for dispelling the myths which the ego has enshrouded humanity in. I have not yet had the fortitude to withstand that full path. I have however, crossed the river into the second book of the series, Meetings with Remarkable Men. This series of autobiographical stories of people with whom Gurdjieff engaged in through his search of mystery knowledge across Asia, Africa and Europe is incredible and image rich. I’ve read through this part II of the series several times, and could learn from it for ever and ever no doubt. In fact, with this weeks zbook spread approaching, I picked it up from my bookshelves and entered it into my bathroom book keeper. Having re-read the introduction while enthroned, I knew I must move it into my backpack to have on my person through the coming weeks.

To end this post, I wanted to share a recent gleaning from All and Everything, 2nd series. It is said that a human must strive to keep intact both the lamb and the wolf, to be in truth with herself.

Gurdjieff shares this challenge: How can one get across the river and keep whole the wolf, the goat and the cabbage, if only one can be ferried across at a time?


The answer lies in making an extra trip!


This week, I look from the vantage of the Hawk for guidance- in awe of Earth and Sky. Please share your thoughts, experiences, flow... we’d love to hear from you!


Be well and Blessings, -Hemphill

11/11/10 - parallels

It seems only appropriate that we are running this 'Run in Parallel' spread as we cross the date of 11/11.  Ceci left a phone message for me earlier, suggesting that today held great potential as a gateway date.  I have been holding our recent conversations to my heart and actions; expressing my excitement with zbook to my colleagues and family. We are in final countdown/preparation mode for a presentation of our collaborative zbook work at our "origin" point of UCSB.  Before faculty and students, we will be sharing story and images and creating an experience of our personal and collaborative narratives, spreading the inspirational impulses of zbook.  It's a seed pod bursting opportunity we've been taking steps toward for some time now.  In many ways, it feels like a jumping board, like a springing platform into a pool of something still as yet unknown.  We both agree that the manifestation of this symposium opportunity in the fall is completely in line with our mutual electricity in this season of wind and shift from light outside to light inside.  Looking at the image of "parallel", this emerging internal light is reflected magically in the luminoscity of this spread...it is infused with some serious incandescence.  What's amazing to me is how this spread transformed from something quiet and flowing to something pulsing and rushing.  As we were entering zbook in the last couple of years to bring closure and breadth of crystallization, we most often played in watercolor to cohese each spread.  On this spread however, our brushes stroked into life with these shimmery acrylic paints we both have had on hand in our painting quests, and the outcome shocked this piece with dynamite.  We should search our archives to see if we have an image of this spread pre white and purple and bronze, to view it in its quiet, browner stage, when it was mostly running words.

As I look closer at this spread, I see homage paid to a few striking moments in time.  In the following image, there is a note of the PSL family in the LA House.   The picture which arises for me in relation to that note is an oscillating scene, like a sticker with two images which flash through movement of  hand or head... one is a golden glowing room with a long table and a bronze lighted chandelier around which a dozen feasters are holding hands as a gray haired uncle offers prayers of Thanksgiving for the communion of family and friends; the shifted image is a blue black hue with jacuzzi drifters and moonlight sifters, overlooking a twinkling valley of lights.

I simply love how words and color wrap around each other.  The quote enveloped in pearlescent copper at right here looks like my lettering, though I have no recollection of its utterance context... most likely, it came from the jacuzzi!... "GUARANTEED"

On another note, it sure is strange how children bring challenges to streams of working time; they are so invested in every moment of the present, they cannot often be deferred to a future time when all other work is complete...isn't that an amazing gift to all of humankind, continuously renewed in each birth ... little bundles of the here and now - see me - help me - love me - leave me to myself - a constant cycle of learning and letting go for a parent.

So, I take my advice, post script to "Run in Parallel'..."walk in tennis shoes"!  Good advice!

-Be well and take care, -J. G.