Dia de los Muertos

Here is another installation of fiction. The assignment for the week was to fashion our homework after the Rick Moody short story, "Demonology". Our attempt was to write a piece on death and grief in the First Person as Third, Past Tense:

           

  After the snow flurries of fall on the northern border of America, it was hard to believe it was almost November there in Mexico. The weather was a balmy 80 something degrees, and the bath water of the Pacific sparkled under the meringue puff clouds like a polished piece of turquoise, or aquamarine, or some other glistening gemstone. It was the best time of year to be in this fishing town, and dad had just emerged from the waves like Poseidon, God of the Sea, with his limit of yellow fin and jack fish nearly as big as he.

            He wasn’t planning the dive, he didn’t even have his swim trunks, but the lapping of the waves, the glistening jewels, the Siren’s song called him forth, stripping down to his tiny cut off jean shorts like it was still the 70s though we were a couple decades advanced, and dove head long into the break before I had realized he wasn’t walking beside me, much less listening to the rambling of this land-locked Siren. When he resurfaced, he said this bounty was for me, but you can’t bullshit a bullshitter. That dive was all for him. All of his dives were always all for him. It was enough just that he said it. As a woman who loved him, and there were many, I could forgive him this tryst knowing how much his affair with the Other, Oceana, meant to him. He really believed that those gifts she gave him were for me. After all, that is what we were here for, wasn’t it? To eat the Fruits de la Mer and honor the dead? To have the experience of another culture in the protective custody of my uber-manly father?

            That man made friends with everyone—he also pissed everyone off. But who wouldn’t love him? With his charisma, looks of Adonis, eyes as blue as that Mexico sky, and a liver fortified enough to drink the local cantina out of tequila, you couldn’t fight the amigos off! The anger came from getting hooked. One would by the bull to the sinker, then come up spluttering from a realization that reality was slightly different from the goods they had been sold. But for the night, all that glittered was gold. Tell us that one about how you punched the shark in the face, and ripped out its teeth with your bare hands, Muchacho!

             We drank as the sun sank, and the Senioras prepared, all paint and pageantry. We gorged on ceviche, and even my cup flowed with Aztec gold, though I was still under age back in the States. Two of the day’s catch were sacrificed to Chalchiuhtlicue to honor his love for her, and to appease her thirst for fresh flesh. This was Dia de los Muertos, and honoring the customs of this land was the real reason we were here, despite evidence otherwise. He explained that the veils between the worlds were particularly thin on days like this, and that his mistress was a jealous one, with not much compassion for the living, dead, or otherwise. He respected her power, and she kept his soul fed. They had an understanding, and she was the only woman to whom he would ever fully keep his word.

            That night, when the dancing in the square was done, he slipped off to have one last waltz. Who was I to judge? For all I knew, this was another part of the pilgrimage, the cycle of life, living and dying, burying and conceiving. Was I jealous? Of course. But also, I was used to it. And after we were back at home, he would pick up his progression of seasonal beds to harvest and plow. But this time was ours. So, who was I, the seed of his free-floating spirit, to tether him to my side, when I should have been as dead under covers as those ghosts we tributed this night, just hours ago?

            As He and Her harmonized with the alley cats, howling like Banshees ‘til the moon had grown tired of their efforts, I walked out to see that ocean break. I wanted her to suffer like I did when he chose she over me—and, yet, she was always suffering. Her tears swam in the surf, her cries wafted on the waves, the flotsam and jetsam flowed to shore with each passing moon, on the relentless current of time.

            Yemoja lay softly illuminated by her Seven Sisters, and I prayed. I prayed to be graced by her beauty, that he would love only me. I prayed for her captivity, that he would love only me. I prayed for her apathy, that he would love only me. I prayed for her power and her freedom from attachment, that he would love only me. I prayed, and I waited for her response, but she had none. Not for me.

Dank

Here is another installment of fiction from my work with The Writers Studio in SF:

            

            “Hello?”

            “Hey, Baby. Get ready to hang. We’re coming off the Mountain now. I’ll be there in about two hours. I need you ready to work. Love you, Sweetie. See ya soon.”

            “Bye baby,” and I hit end call.

            1:30 am. At least I get a few more winks…

            I’m up! I’m up! How long has it been? (Sigh) Great. It’s 3:15, and I don’t hear the truck yet. Better get the coffee going.

            As I sit in the still silence of the void between days, the darkness before the dawn, I can feel my pulse starting to quicken. My adrenal glands are already pumping even before the smell of coffee stumbles over to knock me in the face.

            The last of the black medicine sputters out of the brewer as Aaron runs up the walkway in the dark, dressed all in black with his hoodie up, carrying bags and bags of Hippie Gold. This is the first week of October—harvest season—and we now have over 50 pounds of wet material to dry and process in the next two weeks; our year’s livelihood is riding on this trip.

            No sooner has he thrown the first Hefty bag down, than I’m tearing it open to release the moisture, running cords along the ceiling and under the lights so we can get the tree limbs of dank up and drying. The colas are so dense this year we run a big risk of rotting, even with our immediate action.

            I ask what happened. The Boys weren’t supposed to cut until Thursday—the trichomes have only just started turning amber, and premature product doesn’t get a premium price at The Club. He says the rains came. They had to make the call. Do they keep the plants up through the rains? If it lasts only the night, then it could be a great last push, and we could gain some valuable weight. But if the rain lasts longer, and if the days don’t get warm and dry out, these nuggs would rot for sure, not to mention those bastard budworms. With no cell or Internet reception in the trenches of the Emerald Triangle, it comes down to your gut—what does that asshole tell you?

            50 pounds is a great deal of weed—even wet—and this task alone will probably take me a good two hours. Then I need to set up the fans, and start trimming off the large sun leaves. Trimming will take a hell of a lot longer than the hanging, but if we don’t get the main stuff off, the house will just get too moist, even in the dredged desert of Folsom. I’m still not sure how we’re going to keep the neighbors (and cops) from getting suspicious as the house starts to stink like a dead skunk, but that’s a problem for another day. In the words of Scarlett O’Hara, “I will think about that tomorrow”. For now, though, I probably won’t see sleep again for another eight to twelve hours. Not that I would be able to sleep, anyway, given the state of things currently. Between the police, and thieves, I’ll be on guard for a while.

            “Hey Babe! Get the fuck in here!!! I think we’ve got a problem.”

            Well that’s no good! No lady likes to hear that from her man, especially not when so much is on the line. I’m in the middle of putting up the last bag, when he pulls me away to check out what’s happening to that first lot hung under the halogen track lighting of the back bedroom. The cannabis has started to crawl with almost microscopic critters leaving cottony trails in their wake.

            Fucking spider mites.

            No worries. We’ve handled this shit before. It’s just a drag to have to fuck with this right now.

            The room gets quarantined.

            The dope gets bagged back up.

            The product not showing signs of infestation gets checked (and rechecked) with the jeweler’s loop; and moved from a warm, dry location (the favored climate of the dreaded mites), to a dark and cold territory.

            This is no way to dry any herb, much less $150k of premium purple dank. We will have to be even more diligent now.

            Jaime decided to focus on pure indica strains this year, since it retains more weight after drying than its sativa counterpart due to the density of the bud structure. The clubs will pay top dollar for a quality strain, and it’s a black market fave (especially with the High School kids), but now that means there is a much greater chance that the last five months Aaron’s spent on the Mountain, working Jaime’s property, could be in vain—and our rent is coming up on three months over due. If we can’t get the money for this round, then there’s no apartment—and definitely no lights—and we can’t bring our indoor crop to fruition. I’ve almost graduated, ironically, from a paralegal program, but I need a few more months of stability, and I’m not going to let some creature no bigger than a pin head fuck up our six-figure investment, damn it!

            Aaron loves this adrenal rush of an adventure—he’s eating it up, as I choke on my own stomach. He’s been doing trips to the mountain off and on for the past twenty years since he dropped out of high school. When I met him four years ago, he had a whole wardrobe of tactical combat gear and an arsenal of very real guns to go with his fantasies of being a rouge operative. He’s also been studying Tom Brown Jr.’s tracker manuals since he was knee high to a grasshopper, and has actually picked up a few things about covert conduct, and what to look out for from the other side. The dude is crazier than a shithouse rat, but I love him. I think the costumes, props, livelihood all add to the glamour of this movie we’re in; he spins plenty of webs of his own with how he lives his life, and has even caught a tasty tidbit or two in that trap along the way.

            We are nearly done putting out this fire. I can feel the hysterical laughter starting to rise in me as the panic wears off and I start to relax. Everything’s going to be fine, and it looks like fucking Christmas! Only, instead of stockings, we have the sticky icky bomb diggety. I can’t believe the life I get to live!!! Maybe this is why Aaron and I have stayed together so long—we’re both drama addicts who love the seedier side of life. We see the beauty in grit, and love the thought of stickin’ it to The Man.

            I start to get turned-on, and then stop.

            What was that?

            I hold my breath as I listen.

            Shit, there it is again! It sounds like somebody running through the back yard!

            Fuck.

            It’s four o’clock in the fucking morning, who could that be?

            Are we busted? Have they seen the crop? Where are they now?

            Aaron is out the door before I can even register what the hell is happening. He’s barefooted and shirtless, but that doesn’t stop this crazy son of a bitch. He’s grabbed a kitchen knife, God only knows what he’s thinking of doing with that if he finds someone!

            Holy Shit!

            Something just exploded. It sounded big, and it sounded like it was on the side of this building.

            Now I’m in here all alone, I can’t see (or hear, for that matter) The Dude. I have no idea where the explosion came from, either, but you can rest assured, I will not be heading out of this house any time soon. If it’s the DEA, they will just have to come in here and drag me out.

            What I am looking for, though, is the fire. I hear the trucks now, so at least I know this attack wasn’t directed at us. But, what the hell happened?

            Aaron’s only been gone for about twenty minutes, but it feels like hours! When he comes in, he has the story for me: a house around the corner and up the street was car bombed—a lover’s quarrel. While the woman and her children were asleep in the house, the estranged boyfriend exploded her minivan. No one was hurt.

            Wow. Thank God for small favors.

            Folsom might have a world-class prison, and good ol’ boy cops with something to prove, but it’s still a small town. With this kind of ruckus, the whole force will be tied up for days with paperwork and the investigation, leaving us to our semi-legal project free and clear. I never thought I would be so happy to be present during a terrorist attack!

            When I see Aaron’s bare chest enter the house unscathed, I remember to breathe again. A couple tears escape down my cheeks, and I collapse in his arms, kissing his stubbly face. He kisses me back. At first I feel his distraction. But, as the realization sets in that we are out of the woods, his kisses become more passionate, more ravenous, and we start groping our remaining clothes off.

            Soon we’re fucking on the floor (we will pay for that when we are done) with the kind of fervor one can only feel after having life threatened—rabid, drooling, juices flying. We are alive and free, and this is how we are shouting it to the world, to each other. We are in love, not just with one another, but with life—and more specifically, with this life.

            He comes, and we collapse on the kitchen linoleum in a heap of sweat and trim. Maybe a few winks can be found here…

            After all, we deserve it.

            

Squirrel

I just stared a writer's workshop with The Writer's Studio here in S.F. This is one of our first projects, so I thought I would post it to see what y'all think. The assignment was to practice writing in the First Person from the perspective of a critter. Since I've been tormented by the fluffies in the backyard, I figured this might be catharsis to see things from their perspective. We only need to share the first page of what we write, so the story trails off a bit toward the end.

Another sunny October in San Francisco—Indian summer, I guess—and this, the last big push of harvest season before winter. We’ve got to squirrel away enough food and replant the crops before the rains come to keep up our stores up for next year.

On this lazy day, however, I was lounging around the nest, enjoying the quiet the kids left me when they headed off on their own this last spring. The man, also, has been away all summer foraging for his own prizes, leaving me to fend for my self. But really, we have a great spot in The City, so even in the throws of wet and rain, our supplies never dwindle too low—the conveniences of a metropolis…

Though I was up with the sun, I had taken my time this morning getting ready: stretching my limbs in my daily yoga routine, fluffing my tail, preening my silver fur, breaking fast on a few peanuts and sunflower seeds; and now was languidly day dreaming under the eucalyptus tree, half way to la la land when I heard her.

The weather stripping on the back door crackling ajar

Drawers full of silver tools jangling shut

The suction of the fridge

Swoosh of the pantry

Bags crackling

Whistling

With a leap and a bound, I was over the fence, through the fallen leaves, and up the flight of stairs to her door before she could pour her cereal. We have a rapport, this human and me. I look cute, and she feeds me.

I remember when I was pregnant. Hers was the only house that cared enough to leave us some nourishment (even the peanut basket had gone empty over the holidays). She, however, always found it in the kindness of her heart to leave the compost bin open and low to the ground on that back porch. I don’t think we would have made it through those dark months if it weren’t for her generosity!

Since then, we’ve developed our trust and communication. Sometimes she will leave gifts of walnuts or avocado. Other times, she just leaves the back door open so I might traipse in and scavenge for myself through the kitchen scraps.

Occasionally, I’ve had to get her attention and let her know that she’s been a little stingy. When this happens, tactics such as pulling up flowers or knocking over planters has sufficed to keep her on point. Thankfully, I hardly ever have to resort to such devices. The garden has been so full of delicious sunflowers, and succulent tubers, all I have to do is knock over the stems or pull up the roots and chomp away.

At first, I wasn’t so sure about this bumbling creature knocking about in the garden where I have sown my seeds for so long. She cut down the forest of nasturtium and clover, after all, and that canopy was my cover from the hawks as I scurried about vulnerably on the ground. Then, she started tilling up the ground and had me really worried when she cast out next year’s harvest!

In the end, though, I realized what a blessing this particular human was to the bounty of my life once all those flowers started to bloom. Now, I have fertile ground to plant all of my native seeds AND the abundance of juicy ornamentals to supplement the gems of her back porch offerings. Maybe some day, after she’s proven herself, and if she approaches very slowly with no sudden movements, I will allow her to brush my tail

Universal Law of Movement and Balance: Tawamnipa, Initiates Creative Energy for Manifesting

The Maka Wicahpi Wicohan was prepared by Standing Elk, Graphics by Standing Elk, Artwork by Sherwyn Zephier. Grandma Silver Star has also worked closely with this material, and has created a circular calendar based on the lunar cycles, which plots the specific symbols for the day, moon, and year. These calendars are available at: www.starelders.net. If you are interested in obtaining a copy of the Maka Wicahpi Wicohan, you may download the pdf file at: www.star-knowledge.net, or you may contact Standing Elk/Black Spotted Horse/Golden Light Eagle/Loren Zephyr directly to inquire about hard copies: https://www.facebook.com/loren.zephier?fref=ts.

The symbol is pictured within a circle. To work with the symbol, draw it in the air, on paper, in the dirt, on the water, in your mashed potatoes, or as you see fit, then circle the symbol to activate the medicine.

TAWAMNIPA OYATE

Initiates Creative Energy for Manifesting

Pleiades at your service.

We, the Seven Sisters, are responsible for the Manifestation of Spirit into form. For we are the Guardians of Portals which send to you that very creative imagination which spurs you to make, to unfold and to be.

In truth, we are in direct association with your Higher Nature and we are servants of the same Great Light. We, the Seven Sisters, do send forth those creative energies which awaken the Seven Gifts of Humanity.

If you wish to manifest, if you wish to co-create with Universe, first, you must go to the hill and pray. You must go within the Sacred Silence and use the Gift of Vision. For each has a Sacred Path and the Sacred Path of your pre-life decision is the road map for each of your creative tasks.

You have a job list, so to speak. These are activities, or ranges of activities which you yourself chose before you came in the physical form.

And therefore, you must go to the hill and pray. This is a great opportunity for you. Creator and Holy Ones will come to help you vision that which is your Sacred Path.

The Gift of Touch is the next step to manifesting Creative Energy into form. By touch we mean the feeling realm. Your heart must be in touch with the elements that transform to be your creation.

The Creator, through the Sacred Gift of Vision, will show you what these elements are. Their wisdom will enter you through the portals of DNA intelligence and within that Alchemy of Self, in the inner realms the unconscious you, as a Being of Light, will be forming something new to present to Universe. This is what is meant by feel. Be in touch with the elements of your creation.

To sing the vision is to create the reality. This is your next step to manifestation. Song may be through words of prayer. Song may be ancient ones of your memory. The Song may be the quest for these necessary elements.

For a song is the movement of energy. It is creating a wave of healing and transformation for those around you. So, turn your vision into a song of the elements that will evolve into your creation.

Oftentimes, this song is those images, thoughts and imaginations which evolve from elements working inside you. These songs are often Dreams.

Put your choice behind your creation. This is the next step along the way. Use your energy in harmony with Mother Earth and the Divine Plan. Vision through your Sacred Path is itself in harmony with this plan. Put energy, enthusiasm, and strength behind your creation. And this energy which emanates from that Solar plexus, from that Golden Ray of Light, will begin the manifesting cycle.

It is at this point along the journey of creation that you must go forth and experience and experiment. Try to bring it together and use the action of your imagination to bring forth life.

Everything that you create, be it a thought, or a feeling, or an object, is life.

Therefore, in this quest of manifesting, be in communion with Creator. Allow those holy wisdoms in your starry understanding to guide your ethics and actions, for what you create is bonded to you and sends forth a Wave Song to all of Universe.

The cap stone to manifesting your Sacred Path, manifesting any project of your desire, is the Giveaway, is the sacrifice of your life, is to grant your breath unto it.

For the Creator breathed the Breath of Life into you, giving you the power to create and to live. Therefore, once you have visioned, felt, sung, chosen, journeyed, and aligned with Creator, give your life, your breath, and manifestation will result.

To bring forth another, you must use all seven of your Sacred Gifts.

We Pleiades will support you in every step of this journey, should you call upon our assistance.

We suggest that when you go forth to seek your Vision, you invoke the Universal Law of Movement and Balance. Draw its Energy Signature before you. Call upon the Pleiades to release those creative energies necessary for this process.

Should the Councils of Light deem you worthy and capable, we will release to the knowledge and the Light information that will awaken this manifestation to you.

When you come to us in balance with Creator and your Sacred Path, know that we will gift you with energies and understandings which will make your life full. We are Guardians of Love and wish the Greatest Light for you. We will help you move through your journey in the graces of the Highest Light. We will open portals, bend time, and channel energies of transformation to assist you along the way.

And so, Call upon the Seven Sisters when you seek to create, when you seek to express your Sacred Path. We will build the geometries of its unfolding through the light of your own Sacred Gifts. For the Seven Generations, the Seven beyond, and the Seven beyond them, lead to the doorstep of Pleiades.

Spiritual Strength, Health, and Happiness: Unci, Opens Doorways for Unification of Self

The Maka Wicahpi Wicohan was prepared by Standing Elk, Graphics by Standing Elk, Artwork by Sherwyn Zephier. Grandma Silver Star has also worked closely with this material, and has created a circular calendar based on the lunar cycles, which plots the specific symbols for the day, moon, and year. These calendars are available at: www.starelders.net. If you are interested in obtaining a copy of the Maka Wicahpi Wicohan, you may download the pdf file at: www.star-knowledge.net, or you may contact Standing Elk/Black Spotted Horse/Golden Light Eagle/Loren Zephyr directly to inquire about hard copies: https://www.facebook.com/loren.zephier?fref=ts.

The symbol is pictured within a circle. To work with the symbol, draw it in the air, on paper, in the dirt, on the water, in your mashed potatoes, or as you see fit, then circle the symbol to activate the medicine.

UNCI

Opens Doorways for Unification of Self

  We are The Grandmothers and we pray for you this day. We watch over you from when you are very little to when you are very old. We watch for your Spirits; we watch on behalf of all you are. As always, we are here to remind you, to give you a little teaching that will help you to remember.

  Today we would have you remember Relationship. Remember your Relationship to The Tree of Life. We are here to remind you of your Relationship to that which is above, and that which is below. To remind you of that which is behind and that which is before. We are here to remind you of that which is to your left and that which is to your right.

  We will open your eyes and let you understand that these Six Directions are directions of your origin. Your Soul Star, the origin of your starry nature, the very light which sent you here, comes from above. The Great Spirit sent our All That Is, and here you are! You must remember this life line, the Life Line that is the Great Spirit  Portal, the doorway to the Spirit.

  This is that which is above. This Life Line which goes from your very Heart out through the crown, travels first to the Sun of this beloved Solar System, and then through our Father Sun unto that Sun  which is behind the Sun, then to the Heart of Universe. This is what we remind you of: Your very nature is from Creator, Creator's Life Line, Communication, is from your Heart to the Heart of the Great Central Sun.

  Through your prayer and through the use of this symbol, Spiritual Law of Strength, Health, and Happiness, you may open this doorway and all of these doorways.

  Your relationship the Great Spirit is your relationship to the reason that you are here. The gifts which you have to bring unto Mother Earth and to your relations come directly through this Heart connection to the Center of Universe.

  So, remember who you are: look up, remember Creator... Establish a relationship with the Holy Creator.

  That which is beneath is the Heart of the Mother, first known to you as Mother Earth. Within the very Heart of Mother Earth is the Heart of Cosmos, The Great Cosmic Mother known as Mystery. Remember the Holy Mother; for, she is that support upon which you stand, upon which you sit. Out of the Mystery comes all of the life which feeds you, which gives you a will to live.

 So, send the roots of your own Tree of Life deep down into the Mother. Establish this reciprocal relationship where your love feeds the Mother and the Mother's Love makes you grow.

  Loving your Mother allows you to remain in this earth plane. Loving the Mother, Mother Earth and Mother Cosmos is the reason you are here: to learn her lessons and to become one with her Universal Love. Open yourself to this portal, to this Great Mystery energy which is beneath your feet. Have relationship with Mother Earth, and through Mother Earth, the Sacred Mother Universe.

  We Grandmothers are those who are behind you. We support your every step. We guard your future. Like the Bear Medicine, we surround you with strength. We give you the strength of the Wisdom that you have learned.

  We Grandmothers protect your future by guarding your past. We are the keepers of the Wisdom Flame, of your life stream and all life streams. If you need to understand yourself, you must ask the Grandmothers. We will take you deep within the Silence of you own being. We will teach you the disciplines that you need to know. We will help you remember who you are from the very time that you came forth from the Heart of the Creator. We will help you to integrate the sacred skills and talents that you have.

  So turn to the Grandmothers if you wish to understand where you have been. We will take you into the Cave of Self and help you emerge from the other side of the mountain a new being.

  The Grandmothers guard this Portal of Remembrance.

  The Grandfathers are the Keepers of Time. They are those Masters of your Fourth Dimension. They are that which is before you. For the Path of Spirit guides you into what is called the future. This future is the teachings of the Grandfathers. The Grandfathers hold for you the Divine Nature which you are to be. The Grandfathers are the Keepers of the Veils of Time. They are ones who lift these veils to let you see.

  And so when you go forth to pray for a vision, to know the direction of your path, call upon the Grandfathers (they are strict, yet much more compassionate than the Grandmothers.) The Grandfathers will show you the course of easiest unfolding and will open that portal of Eternity. When you have cleansed yourself and are ready to step beyond that which is known as Karma.

  The Grandfathers are the keepers of your Future Gifts. Walking with them, you'll discover the Hoop of Connectedness of All Things. Walking with them, you will quickly become all that you already are in that place called Eternity. The Grandfathers are the Keepers of the Portals of Life.

  The Goddesses, the Holy Mothers, are those which walk by your side, to the left. This is your feminine nature. To understand the secrets of Mother Earth, you must honor the Holy Mothers. They are the teachers of Compassion, Love and Joy. You must dare to go within their Fiery Love to discover your gentle nature. The Holy Mothers are the Guardians of the Portal of Love.

  Those which you have called Gods are those which we call Holy Fathers. They stand to your right. They are perfected beings, Cosmic Presences, the Keepers of Powers and of Strength. they are also the Keepers of Law.

  If you wish to understand the true nature of strength, you must seek the gentle ways of these Fathers. You must realize that their every action and thought is surrendered to the flows of Divine Law. They are the Teachers of Law and all that which is power is the manifestation of Sacred Law. The Holy Fathers are the Keepers of the Portal of Strength through Law.

  We Grandmothers bring this knowledge to you because the facets of yourself come in to you from these Six Directions. Know that these directions are actually portals which exist within your aura. Thus, they are a part of you. They are your doorways to the realms of the Grandmothers and Grandfathers, that place which is beyond that which you understand as Universe.

  You must seek relationship with each of these Sacred Directions and know that through the image of this Sacred Symbol, through this Law of Strength, Health and Happiness, you may open these portals. You may discover who you are in relation to: the Spirit, Mystery, Grandmothers, Grandfathers, Holy Mothers, and Holy Fathers. You will discover those Essences of Life which have formed to be you. They all flow in through these Six Sacred directions.

  To become one with all that you are, you must understand who you really are. These pathways within your etheric nature are part of who you are. They are also the portals of your connection to Universe, multi-verse and beyond.

  These portals are your doorways for interstellar communication, for communication with all that which is without. Should you follow one of these directions unto its ultimate goal, you would pass through the Holy Mother and discover yourself emerging within that Sacred Tree of Life, that is your own body.

  You must have relationship with those beings that have nurtured you throughout eons of Time and even before Time was. For they are standing on the other side of these portals and they are facing you. They are loving you, and they are orchestrating the teaching of your life. And thus, to know these beings who have loved you from Time before Time, Will open these portals from the Place of Love, from the Place of Excitement of Discovering who you are. These teachers will come to you through meditation, vision, and dreams. Through practice and sincerity, they will come to you in physical form.

  First you will discover a guardian in each of these directions. Come to know these beings, for within them are the keys of yourself. For they are your creators. You are gestating within their hearts even as your heart is the emanation of their love.

  Discovering those who love you so much will open that heart which is your Sacred Heart. The Sacred Heart is you connection to the Spirit and the Mystery. It is the connection to Grandmothers and Grandfathers. It is the connection to Holy Mother and Holy Father.

  These beings of your life wish your acknowledgement! For your acknowledgement is the key to your unfolding! These beings which have created you and sent you forth from the very love of their hearts, wish to direct conscious communication with you! Open yourself to their Love! Walk with them each day!

  We Grandmothers will be with you through this Spiritual Law to help you understand these guardians of your True Nature. We will help you unfold the facets of your Self, the Self which is the reflection of the Divine from these Sacred Directions.

  Once you have dared to look into the Faces of Love, those facets of Self will dissolve away and the melting strength of the Sacred Fires within will consummate your Becoming One.

  The Veils of Time will part. That which is Past will become Future. That which is Mother will become Father. That which is Spirit will be known as Mystery.

  For, in truth, All is One.

  And you, O Beloved One of the Universe, are a Sacred Tree of Life. Know the beings which surround you in the Breath of Spirit. These Portals of Understanding are ready to open. The beaming Faces of Love are ready to greet you.

  We, the Grandmothers, will guide you and teach you.

  We pray for you, Our Relations. We guard your Spirits. We guard all that you are.

Remember, Remember, Remember your connections to All.

Spiritual Law of Future Sight: Thoth, The Prophet's Mark

The Maka Wicahpi Wicohan was prepared by Standing Elk, Graphics by Standing Elk, Artwork by Sherwyn Zephier. Grandma Silver Star has also worked closely with this material, and has created a circular calendar based on the lunar cycles, which plots the specific symbols for the day, moon, and year. These calendars are available at: www.starelders.net. If you are interested in obtaining a copy of the Maka Wicahpi Wicohan, you may download the pdf file at: www.star-knowledge.net, or you may contact Standing Elk/Black Spotted Horse/Golden Light Eagle/Loren Zephyr directly to inquire about hard copies: https://www.facebook.com/loren.zephier?fref=ts.

The symbol is pictured within a circle. To work with the symbol, draw it in the air, on paper, in the dirt, on the water, in your mashed potatoes, or as you see fit, then circle the symbol to activate the medicine.

THOTH

The Prophet's Mark

  I am Thoth, thy Elder Brother. And, indeed, I do see through that Right and Left Eye of Horus. Understand that there are many eyes upon you now. These are the Sacred Laws of Creator and of Future Sight which is the Power to Make Things Be. At the Center Pole, that dost honor, reverence, and respect Creator and Mother Earth, is the Signet of the Ages, is the Crystal of Pure Vision, is the Heart of Purity, is the Prophet's Mark.

  I Thoth, am sealing upon the Peoples the Sacred Signet within your Memory. I am cleaning out the inner recesses of the Temples of Mother Earth that—restored anew—the Prophet's Mark guides the Priest and Priestess, the Shaman and the Wisdom Keeper, does bless the Medicine Man—Medicine Woman, does bless the Holy Peoples.

  This Sacred Mark of True Sight—sight of the Grandfathers—is accessed through your bones. For indeed, the Resurrection Flame is the action of rhe Propet's words—the Words of the Future Sight that are the Ancestors speaking. Upon all the Peoples, within their Memories, which is dem bones,

Thoth does awaken Celestial Memory.

The Ressurection Flame

From the Great Fiery Censer of Pure Thoufht

of Thath dost bathe the Peoples throufh these inner marks.

  I, Thoth, will sponsor any Two-Legged that chooses to walk the Resurrection Path, that your bones—your roots to the Stones of Earth and Heartbeat of Mother's Memory—will awaken true flexibility and Sacred Fires of the Flame, the Voice of your Ancestors speaking.

  Each one here and each upon the planet have walked in the Temples before and know the Sacred Formulas and the Symbols and he Ways of Walking in Love.

It is time to awaken!

  Thus, the Spirit has granted this Mark upon your eyes that you may see the true cause and effect and consequences of all of your actions. And, for this to be a Sacred Water that doth protect you that you can see your future choices before, in the pesent, they be made. For Wisdom in one's choices is very important now, because Mother Earth has awakened and walking upon her soils is walking in a temple as well.

  Ponder deeper, O Peoples, the Sacredness of your Life.

  Every action that you draw upon the Airs as you move, as you speak, as you think, as you pray, all are actions written in the Words o the Akasha, the Sacred Book of Life. Therefore, if you wish to step beyond Karma, do as Krishna does and dance the Dharma Path.

I a Thoth, I am guardian of ceremonial actions

for each and every one of Mother Earth

and should there be dissonance

in your ceremonial actions,

Thoth's feather will straighten your tethers

—and perhaps, will set you free.

  Therefore, prepare, O Peoples, and call upon this Gift of Future Sight that your bones may awaken with the Fiery Waters of Thoth's thought. For indeed the Pure Wisdon and Knowledge within you shall awaken when you dost contemplate this Holy Symbol.

Should you carry the Mark of the Prophet,

then walk every moment as the Prophet.

Know that the Prophet is the least of these

that surrenders to be the Voice of the Whole.

The Ancestors are much greater than all

the massess of the People around the globe.

Thus, listen to the Voice of the Ancestors

if you walk with the Prophet's Mark;

It is the Ghost Shirt Way to walk in the Wisdom of the Ancestors.

  I am Thoth, awakening your Minds, even more a bit. For know: within you are the genes of Celestial Nature. You need but wake up from the illusion of being small and learn to dance a Cosmic Dance:

a Sun Dance,

a Moon Dance,

a Morning Star Dance,

that you may dance

the Dance of the Seven Stars.

This is the responsibility

that Thoth and the Central Sun

dost cast upon the Peoples

Dance the Sun Dane,

then the Moon Dance,

then the Morning Star Dance,

before you Dance the Seven Stars.

To all my Relations.

Hau. Mitakuye Oyasin.

Spiritual Law of Intuition: Mnisunka Winyan, Heals Emotional Body and Heart

In July I received my Reiki Mastery atunement. I went into the process thinking I would just be finishing a project I started four years prior, but during the three day process my Master, Nicole Duran, commented that I would be using this skill, and boy was she not just whistlin' Dixie! The Universe has been keeping these Hot Hands busy. For some of the clients who get on my table, I will pull out a very special deck of cards gifted me by Nicole for a very special reading. Lately, I've wanted to send these folks off with not only the symbol, but a print-out of the message they could return to in the days after a session. I will be photographing the card and writing out the message as written in the Maka Wicahpi Wicohan as they arise for my guests.

The Maka Wicahpi Wicohan was prepared by Standing Elk, Graphics by Standing Elk, Artwork by Sherwyn Zephier. Grandma Silver Star has also worked closely with this material, and has created a circular calendar based on the lunar cycles, which plots the specific symbols for the day, moon, and year. These calendars are available at: www.starelders.net. If you are interested in obtaining a copy of the Maka Wicahpi Wicohan, you may download the pdf file at: www.star-knowledge.net, or you may contact Standing Elk/Black Spotted Horse/Golden Light Eagle/Loren Zephyr directly to inquire about hard copies: https://www.facebook.com/loren.zephier?fref=ts.

The symbol is pictured within a circle. To work with the symbol, draw it in the air, on paper, in the dirt, on the water, or as you see fit, then circle the symbol to activate the medicine.

MNISUNKA WINYAN

Heals Emotional Body and Heart

Hau. My relations.

  This is Otter Woman speaking to you from the Waters of Life. For the Waters of Life are the very Wellspring of your Intuition. You must remember to immerse yourself by going to the Water.

  This Water is in your world the stream, the ocean, the lake; and, in the Spirit World it is the Ocean of Consciousness through which you swim in your True Self. Come and Play with the Spirit Otter People. For, they will guide you back into the remembrance of your heart. And through that heart, you will find the true spring of your life. For, know that within you dost the Otter Nations play.

  It is through that heart which is the green life of love that you do enter into the gated of that thymus which is indeed known as the Sacred Heart. Therefore, in order to heal the emotional body, in order to heal your heart and heart of hearts, focus that Green energy—that energy of love and of love of Mother Earth—through Giveaway to the Peoples.

      Do it with the enjoyment of Play.

      Do it with the excitement for Life.

      Do it with the sincerity of Giveaway.

  Thus when you enter into the Heart of Hearts and find the Sacred Fire which does burn of the Seven Stars, beneath them is your own Portal to the Cosmic Ocean. We do bid you enter and come and play. We do bid you enter into the Feeling Body; for once you dive through the Waters of Life within your heart, you dost go through a time tunnel, so to speak, entering into the Ocean of True Being.

  It is in this Ocean that you meet your True Relatives and the remembrance of who you are is complete. Therefore, we say to you, seek to act upon the love which rises from within. Seek to enact your love to help the people, to help the Animal Nations, to help the Stone Peoples, and to help the Tree and Plant Nations. When you give away dost your heart open another little bit.

  Once your heart is glowing with that green light of Spirit, with teachings of Mother Earth and love for your Relations, does the Gate of your Sacred Heart open, And, thus are you allowed to enter into your Innocent Mind, into your Original Mind, into your Childlike Mind, unto that garden of life that is Within.

  Centered in the garden, so shall you find, is the Tree if Life, where the Seven Stars burn of their Imperishable Fame. And, notice, amongst the Roots is the Well of Life.

  We the Otter People—along with the Fish People and those that swim in the waters—do invite you within.

  Now many of you may discover that your heart is covered by... (pause) ...wooden gates. Should this be the case, that means you've been a little stingy, have you not?

  Therefore, if you wish to seek the Eternal Waters within, give away for every blessing which comes your way. Feel the love of the extended hand helping another. In four moon times, this practice of giving when you are blessed will indeed open that portal. Those wooden doors will be removed forever.

  Standing behind those doors, you will find your own Reflection. For that smokey mirror of self will clear and show your true smiling face. Enter within and come into the waters; for Otter Woman and the Otter Clan are waiting. Once you drink from the Well of your Life, dost the Intuition, dost the Wisdom, dost the Remembrance of the Ages awaken within you.

  But do not think this is where the Otter People would have you stay; indeed, you take a deep draught of your own wisdom and then plunge within those waters and swim unto that place which is known as the Cosmic Ocean of Light.

  Entering therein you will experience that enlightenment they speak of in the East: Knowledge of Oneness-With-All within the individuality of the Breath of Spirit. For indeed your were born as a cell, as a self, as a being with many brothers and sisters. Through this portal of the Heart, indeed you can enter unto that plane known as Andromeda and swim in the Great Ocean of Light before the Creator's eyes and feed in the Love of Creator's Heart.

  For once you dost drink of the inner waters

of the Star Realm Andromeda this great Ocean of Light—

and dost dance with the Otter People

among your Relations,

indeed, every cell of your Body,

every atom of your Remembrance,

every particle of Light within you

will be awakened to a new understanding,

a new belief in Spirit

and a new strength of character.

Do come and swim in the inner waters of the Spirit with the Otter People. We shall give you the Sacred Leaf. This leaf known as Starry Kelp.

From this Ocean of Light which is your Twin Universe Andromeda shall we lead you full circle 'round and bring you back within your Tree of Life with many such Starry wonders that the Well and Ocean of Light within you will fill your Heart of Hearts, pour forth unto the heart of Green Light and will feed those Seven Stars within and those Six Directions that are your Aura of Being.

Indeed, to heal your emotional body, to heal your feeling body, to heal your heart is to awaken to your Divine Destiny as a human being, a two-legged.

This journey is the Journey of Heart.

It is the journey of playfulness.

It is the journey of the remembrance of Creator's Smile.

When your heart is open and the Waters of True Life

which Immanuel has spoke

do flow through your very fingertips,

through the hairs on your head,

will you experience that True Love,

that Aura of Protection

and that Energy of Healing

that is your Sacred Birthright.

  You will no longer feel your feet upon the Earth so heavy and will be able to walk gently upon Mother Earth. When you open that Sacred Heart and focus in the play of the Otter People that are within the Wellspring of your own life, do you remember your purpose, your mission and your Giveaway.

  

Age of the Woman and the Birthright of Extended Orgasm

Many spiritual elders—Chiefs, Grandmothers, Astrologers, and the like—have expressed time and again that we are now heading into the Age of Woman. But what does that mean? It's time for us to take back our power, yes! But, what is that power? Where does it come from? How do we make contact with it, and then harness it? Essentially, I believe, it boils down to sex. Humans, for as much as we might like to feel we are somehow outside of the biological makeup of the world, are animals, and mammals at that. In mammals, the female carries the heat for the species. Most mammals have heat cycles that flow with the moon and seasons. Humans are lucky enough to catch a ride with both of these tides, and to have an added bonus of situational, and most importantly, volitional heat. In this Time of the Woman we will come to realize human is neither above, nor below, any other part of creation. We are but one strand in the web of reality, and all threads are needed to create this tapestry of life, and that realization will come to us through sex.

I have had the privilege of practicing extended orgasm with my partner for almost two years now, and have experienced the myriad joys that come from such work. It might sound funny, but this is the mystery school I've been searching for my whole life. The psychological sabotage that one must surrender to in order to go higher is almost unfathomable until one takes on this delightful challenge. For a woman to experience an extended, full bodied orgasm, she must face all of her fears, anger, insecurities, mistrust, and expectations—then, feel those feelings and get right with them in order to experience the full ecstasy her clitoris is capable of providing her. For a man, I'm sure much is the same. He must find a way to drop his ego, and drive "to get his", to be able to put his full attention on, and be fully connected to, the woman in his care. He, too, can experience extended orgasm in his body without ejaculation, but only if he is capable of stimulating that in his lady. At the last Pleasure Course, Erwan mentioned that extended orgasm is not just a privilege for us select few humans, but it is a birth right for the entire species!

Can you imagine what this world might be like if we all knew, and practiced, extended orgasm? I have some ideas...

After I was raped in my early twenties, there was much to be processed. In fact, this practice is helping me to complete that process. But, often I would find myself wondering, amidst the pain and anger I felt for this man (and all men, really), what happened in his life that he felt this was the only way he could assert himself with women? How powerless he must feel to need to take some back in such a way. I am still angry (and hurt, and scared), but I also feel tremendous compassion for him. Can you imagine if he knew how to bring any, and every, woman to extended orgasm for as long as she wanted with just the touch of his finger? I doubt he would have a need for getting girls black-out drunk so he could shamefully have some fun. And what could the repercussions be globally? Would we still need giant nuclear warheads in the shape of dildos to show how big our national cocks were? In my mind, that is doubtful. I also feel that the terrible atrocities committed against women in every country, every day, would begin to ebb, and the split between the sexes might finally begin to heal.

But first, we must admit that we are animals. And in our slice of critter pie, Woman is the heat generator, and Man is the receptor. When a turned-on woman walks down the street and a group of men responds with looks, whistles, and cat-calls, they aren't being pigs, they are just being human. If a man is suffering from erectile dysfunction, he likely doesn't need a pill as much as he might need to turn his woman on. His pleasure is directly linked to her and how much she feels—the more pleasure she receives, the more he will feel, and the better his life will be. For us ladies, if we come home and the trash that hasn't been taken out invokes homicidal fantasies, maybe what we really need is a release of tumescence with some clitoral stimulation, and the use of a training cycle (praise, request, praise).

Next, we as women will need to get right with our appetite. The fantasy of Victorian ideals that still seems to cling (in this society, at least), is a misnomer. We are not a Madonna or a Whore, we are both, and we are hungry, and that is okay. In fact, that hunger is the driving force of this planet. As Tom Robbins so astutely points out in Skinny Legs and All, all of life on this green earth has been brought forth and sustained by sex. Sex is good. Sex is holy. Sex is spiritual and transformative. And for Human, sex is not just for procreation. The sooner we accept this, the better off everything will be. If we have been designed in the image of God, and if this body is the vehicle that deity saw fit to house the immaculate nature of our soul, then I highly doubt the clitoris is a design flaw. I believe the pleasure we are capable of experiencing through sex is the reflection of our Godly natures, as this is the ecstasy through which being brings being into existence.

That being written, Ladies, recognize that this acceptance will take time. We are angry, we are hurt, we are frightened, and we should be. We have been ignoring, and pushing away nearly every feeling that creeps up inside us because it's not how we should act, or how we should feel—it's not lady-like, or attractive. Well, guess what? Ignoring something does not make it go away. Take it from me, that shit sticks around growing and growing like a constipated turd, until it can no longer be ignored, and it craps right out of us. That's okay, too. But, it is not okay to shit on those around us just because we haven't been able to use a toilet in millennia. The men of the world have been losing in the current equation, too, and nobody wins until we can responsibly take care of our waste. Feel it. Pass it. Deal with it. Don't act out on it—that only maintains this cycle of painful abuse.

Men build bridges and fight wars because they want to get laid. We, as women, have the power in our pussies to have them lead us where we want to go. If we truly want a life of healing, peace, balance, and joy on this planet, we must first realize that within the microcosm of our own being. Once we get right with our appetite, we will start having more of the world we want, and far less of what we don't want.

Peeling Onions

My friend called the other day and left me a message that she was, once again, unemployed. She just had her second surgery on her rotator cuff in two or three years, is completely blown out emotionally from the stress of work, and showing signs of post traumatic stress disorder.

She is a front of the house manager at a prestigious Sacramento restaurant—and this is par for the course. The woman is staring down the barrel of 50, making 50-60k a year if she's lucky, has nominal health insurance, lives hand to mouth, and has to work at least 70 hours a week for all of these amazing benefits. Work is so demanding that it leaves no time, much less energy, for obtaining education or training in another field, or even to search for a new restaurant to work in—which, even if she switched venues, the expectations would be the same. Despite the intense physical pain of her injuries, the time off that they provide is an enormous blessing in her life. Unfortunately, the entire time spent on the dole is wrought with anxiety over how to make ends meet, and nightmares about the impending doom of returning to the soul-sucking establishment of her masters. Her trauma runs so deep she doesn't even know what she would do given all the time and money necessary to obtain those goals.

I can truly empathize. Not long ago, I was in the same position. Coming home from my stay in Pennsylvania with Unci Kiaya, and grieving so much for the loss of two loves—a man, and wheat—I knew some life changes needed to be made, but didn't have a clue where to begin. I had always held these beliefs that people are born with gifts, and those gifts are our passions. When one shares their particular gifts with the world, life unfolds its beauty in ways unimaginable. These were beliefs I had never actually lived, however. I was scared. As much as I truly believed that life was conspiring for my success (in the words of Rob Brezsny), I was too afraid to put those beliefs into action. For me, it took hitting rock bottom, and completely giving up hope, to fully surrender to the gifts of life. I had written down what I wanted, I had made prayer ties and burned sage, I had said mantras and performed ceremonies around desires, and when I finally gave up any attachments to outcomes, that's when things really started taking off.

I have about three major passions in this life: food, gardening, and writing. In my traumatized state, I felt that I would have to leave the world of food completely, and seek out a financial path altogether different from what I had been doing in order to find peace. I kept spinning my wheels thinking of ideas that could take me somewhere other than the poor house, and beyond mediocrity. I wanted to capitalize on my strengths, but I was so engulfed in fear and panic that I couldn't even see what those were. I tried on a myriad of hats in my desperation, before finally giving up. I had to make money, so I would do what I've always done. I would cook. Only now, it was, at least partially, on my own terms—as a catering chef. It wasn't what I was looking for, ultimately, but at least I could choose my own gigs, and somewhat make my own schedule, and if one Jefe treated me poorly, there were plenty of others to go work for.

It was around this time of hopelessness that I met my Love. This was one of the two things I prayed for—a real partnership. This was also something I had all sorts of ideas about: who it would be, what he would look like, act like, what age he would be, and how it would feel. Once my attachment to those "ideals" was gone is when he showed up—and, boy, is this relationship so much better, and sexier, than anything I could have dreamed of! He has also brought to my life amazing gifts of insight and healing. Foremost, he has allowed me to be a housewife (something I have always desired secretly, but never allowed myself to actually dream of. The idea of finding fulfillment as a homemaker goes against the feminist ideals I was raised with, but alas, this traditional role is what has allowed some of my greatest breakthroughs). He has also supported me through our relationship coaching. These two combined have been the recipe for the most profound healing I have experienced in this life.

My involvement in a weekly class targeting the psychology of relationship has brought to light so many of the unconscious thoughts and patterns I have been living by, and having the time and safety to explore those inner workings has helped me to unwind the traumas hitherto linked with my deepest passion. By relieving me of my obligations for rent, food, and other basic necessities, I have been allowed to—even forced to—face my inner demons, discover what brought me to those places, and heal, little by little, from a lifetime of conditioning. Funnily enough, it has also brought me back to where I started—rekindling my passion for all things food.

With the spring has come a new emergence. Adam provided me with a cocoon of down comforters encased in gold, and now I am feeling the urge to stretch out these newly spun wings, but I am afraid. I don't have to leave the safety of this nest. I could go on indefinitely, cooking him lovely meals for us to enjoy together and turning our backyard into an oasis in the city. But, I feel a deeper yearning for more. It is time. And, it will happen. But, oh the fear!

As everything in my life returns back to food, it really does strike me that the euphemism is akin to the reality. Actually peeling onions can be a painful and tedious process filled with many tears. But once the work is done, there is only the sweet, healing flesh to enjoy. It would seem that as each layer of this life is healed, and peeled back, another opportunity for growth reveals itself.  I was just reminded by two teachers of mine from many years ago that, "True healing can only come from a place of Love." "Either you're in love or you're in fear, and when love moves out, fear moves in."

Truly, I have Love to thank for the many blessings of this life—and for the many more to come!   

Food Porn: The Ruskie Twist

Another Satisfied Customer

This menu has been dreamed of for over a year.

Each course was brought forth in ecstasy, made from love for love. So much love went into the production. Each component was chosen for it's aphrodisiacal affects. There is no wonder the evening should devolve to debauchery as each course of the meal was spread to consume.

Since my lover is Russian, I wanted to use the influences of his Mother-Land. But, having been born in mid-March, he landed in the cross-hairs of late winter and early spring produce—it's actually a challenging time for menu production since apples, root veg, and citrus are typically on their way out, but peas, herbs and onions haven't quite come in yet. Typically. This year was a little different, I noticed (in fact, the past couple of years have been strange for produce production. With the variations in weather, some items have come in months early, and some haven't produced at all. Global Warming—what are ya gonna do?). Needless to say, beets and citrus were running themes throughout the courses, and surf n' turf reigned supreme with the protein.

Course 1: A Birthday Toast ~ Nazdarovya!

Image: Jenevie Willes

We started by toasting to the Birthday Boy with Point Reyes oysters—chosen in part for the impending doom about to strike that area's industry—and ice old vodka. The Oysters were topped with a granita of Thai basil infused yuzu juice, to compliment the fresh flavors of the sea. (Yes, that is an ice block filled with basil, peppercorns, and handmade hollows you see the oysters perched on.)

Course 2: A Mother and Child Reunion

Image: Seth Berman

This handsome coupling was inspired by the gastronomical adventures had over Thanksgiving when we ventured to Ohio to spend time with the potential in-laws.

As Mother, the first of the two bites (really, though, which comes first, the salmon or the egg?) was house smoked salmon from The Royal Market on Geary, atop a buckwheat blini, finished with a dollop of sheep's milk yogurt from Garden Variety Cheese. For the blini recipe I used Ina Garten's very easy instructions—with a tip from a babushka at the market—let the mix sit for about 5 hours before ladling out—it was a good tip! Also, for the yogurt (chosen since The Man doesn't fare well with Cow leche) I strained it for about 8 hours to create a thicker consistency.

Next on the plate, representing The Child, was the cucumber cup:

Image: Jenevie Willes

The bottom of the cup was created with a slice of Kosher Challah and a slab of Russian butter—thick, sweet, and cheesy. (If you haven't tried European butters, I implore you to bite the bullet, spend the six dollars on a half pound, and make some toast with this decadent treat—truly, not all butter is created equal!) Next, I shaved off slices of Armenian cucumber and tied them with strands of chive. Then, just before serving, I filled those chalices with glimmering garnets of salty salmon roe.

My good friend and San Francisco Sommelier, Amy, sent me her pairing selections for the dinner. I was shopping at Bi-Rite on Divis and had to make do with the choices wine dude, Adam Melendrez, made based on her recommendations. By the way, when I first talked to this guy about wine (it was not for this dinner), I thought, "There is no way this guy knows what he's talking about"—he's young and super approachable, totally without pretense. I took his advice then and was impressed. I opted for his recommendations again for this dinner, and was again pleasantly surprised by his palate and level of expertise.

This is what we came up with for the Champagne to companion our first two courses.

Amy's suggestion was Bereche et Fils Brut Champagne

Course 3: Salad of Seduction

Image: Alex Shoykhet

When I started creating this salad, I had just discovered lovage, and it's apparent aphrodisiacal affects. Unfortunately, this green, though known and available in the bustling metropolis of Sacramento, is not so well known in the Podunk town of San Francisco. So, instead I switched to a combination of water cress and mache. I wanted greens that would stand up to the hearty spiciness of the pickled beets and capers, yet pair well with the delicate flavors of local honey and Meyer lemon oil in the dressing.

I started with both Chioga and golden beets.

The Chiogas have a beautiful, mild white flesh striated with red throughout.

Then, I used a pickling recipe from Emeril Lagasse, and modified the spices to make it my own.

After pouring the hot liquid over the sliced beets and letting them steep for about three days, the results were soft pinks and yellows with a zesty kick just right for this Easter season.

Course 4: Le Entree!

Image: Alex Shoykeht

At this point we were starting to get a little inebriated, and we have the pictures to prove it. I sat down, the music came on, and we all tucked in.

Did I also mention Bi-rite became my best friend for this dinner? It all started with this fine cut of meat—five pounds of NY roast from Estancia Beef sold to me for a killer deal! I poked it with holes, then filled it with garlic cloves coated in Cara Cara orange zest. The next day I rolled that mother in a combination of sea salt and herbs de Provence I picked up from Spice Ace in Lower Pac Heights and let her soak it up over night. This beast was served along side a trio of roasted root vegetables (red beets [of course!], sweet potatoes, and creamy white potatoes) laid out atop a slather of Shasta Gold mandarin aioli.                                                      

Amy had suggested we try out a, "Spanish Red or Northern Rhone. 

Riojas 2001-6 (not 02 or 03) 

Northern Rhone = Crozes or St. Joseph, unless you can afford Cote Rotie 03-08 (good producers like Chave, his second label as well; Clusel-Roche Cote Rotie, Combier Crozes, Bernard Faurie...)"

Adam, the wine guy, pointed these two bottles out, and I couldn't decide. So I got both. 

~~~~~~~~~

Now, momma needed a little lube earlier in the day to get the juices of creation flowing for this event. This is what I had been sipping on from about noon. 100% Cabernet Franc. Brutishly dry. 11% alcohol. Fabulously priced.

So at this point in the evening, a break for some herbal refreshments, and a breath of fresh air,  was in order for some of us to re-stimulate our palates. And, I think everyone needed a little time to digest some of what was in their tummies before we could even think about shoving more in...

Course 5: The Grand Finale!

Image: Seth Berman

Angel food cake with citrus curd of Meyer lemons and Cara Cara oranges, topped with fresh raspberries 

Image: Jenevie Willes

  

garnished with rose water Chantilly cream, rose petals,

Image: Jenevie Willes

and candied orange peel.

For this selection Amy said she wasn't too hip to the dessert wines and suggested I try a sparkling Reisling. Well, we ended up going for a moscato d'asti, and at 5% alcohol, it was the perfect finish for this evening of decadent debauchery.

Hedonists

I can remember at one point, just before everyone went home to their respective bedrooms, standing back watching the guests. The women were writhing to erotic tunes, performing impromptu lap dances for the men, others were licking whipped cream straight from the piping bag, or eating cake out of each other's hands. All were swaying to the rhythm of seduction, and I was thinking, "Now this is alchemy!" I felt like the Maenad from True Blood, seducing people out of their minds with sustenance and spirit. It was so beautiful to be able to provide this as my gift to the man who has so often brought about these same responses in me.

Thank you Lover, for inspiring, and sharing, this love born of Love <3