imagination experiments of a stardust yogini
Meanwhile, I was moseying along on my bicycle in this little mountain town – I found myself transported back to the east village – the food, the smells, the people, the clothes, the bookstores, the creative collaboration. Ah. The best of both worlds.
Read MoreDharma wants to know Greg’s fantasy girl. Greg tells his mother that he doesn’t want to go on the cruise with her. Dharma tracks down Greg’s fantasy girl and she makes a video. Dharma can’t understand why Greg is not thrilled. Dharma talks to her mother about Greg’s fantasy. Dharma’s mother says by shining a […]
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. . . Fire was one of my greatest fears when I lived in the city. There is nothing like the sinking feeling of walking home and seeing firetrucks on your block, or a friend’s block. How quickly fire can spread on those tenement buildings pressed up against one another . . .
Read MoreAfter all the haze and horror of the 80s, the 90s was a time of hope, even among the rubble. Music, art, creativity, yoga and spirituality merged and emerged from the grayness and dust of the city, of the darkest places. It was like swimming, like falling, in a deep pool of inspiration, so many ageless children diving down and willingly sharing, exchanging, the pearls we’d found at the murky bottom.
Read MoreWhile going through my things, I found this poem. I wrote it in 2005 while living in New York City. I made a couple of edits. It’s a play off of a poem by John Ashbury.
Read MoreWhat’s the best thing to do when you can barely think and the weather is crappy and you’re visiting your mom who is a smoker and you are not? Look through boxes of stuff to see what you can find. I’ve been looking for two things mainly — old vocal exercise tapes with my coach Don Lawrence and videos of my performances. I found neither of those things. I did find one box with artwork and journals that have moldered and mice have made nests of, LPs that Chewie the pet rabbit has been snacking on, and, (redemption!) photos that are in pristine condition of my band The Halfbreeds!
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Born on a Thursday Number Thirteen
Is it a risk for me to go to New York? I don’t think it’s any more risky than me staying here where I have not been able to break out of isolation for over two years. I think sticking around much longer where I barely have any connection is a bigger risk.
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holly troy ~ sacred folly 