Raw Bloggin

R A W B L O G G I N

Thanks for stopping by to check out my blogosphere.

*Disclaimer (smiley face) : )
I might express personal opinions that not everyone will agree with her. Mostly not though.

Just sitting down late in the day on a Tuesday. Brewed up some chai but I do not have my usual real maple syrup to sweeten it up with so I used honey. Not as good but it will kick me into action none the less. I napped today. It was my first day off in many days. And I still had to work a little at the B'nB this morning. Recently someone again accused me of living a casual life where I don't really work and that is just B.S. I clean a B'nB that sleeps 10-15 people. Three bathrooms, a full kitchen, seven beds to make, a driveway to spray off, a hot tub to clean and floors upstairs and down to vacuum and mop. Reviews matter big time with Air B'nB so you can't slouch. It has to really be clean. It is a big job and takes about 10-14 hours each time depending on how guests leave it. I do this a few times a week these days so one day off is a big deal. Two night minimum to rent the place. I napped today. It depleted me deeply. I have not ever been a good napper as it is super hard to wake up. It is already after 5 pm now and I am just sort of feeling like myself. ANYWAY continuing to focus on healing emotionally as changes keep on rolling through life. They say change is the only constant. That and laundry. Did I mention all the laundry I do when I clean the B'nB?? Blankets, sheets and towels. Oh my. Holy moly. Again-anyway... Posted a new video up on Youtube. Also waiting for a new hard drive to come so that I can upload the video footage I shot last weekend. Take care all of you sweet hearts! 070721

Arn't you just so grateful to be alive? Life is good. Started brushing up some original songs. The Queen song. I wrote it around the time that Princess Diana had died. She really seemed to be on the way to becoming Queen. If you ask me. So I was thinking about how loving a queen is of the highest order and I would hope that as a queen you are being loved in the most purest forms. possible. All the way to your resting place. In the docket for my next little release I want to record a song called Gallery Shadow and feature murals from Eugene in the video footage. Thanks for stopping by and checking out my website. Looking forward to this coming Sunday. I'll be in Brownsville to celebrate. Take good care everyone everywhere. 062921

'Wow. Life is truly amazing. I got the newest video up. I recorded New Path so that I could put together all the video clips that I shot on the coast in April. The weather is closing in on us here in the Willamette Valley with a high pressure system moving in and raising the temperature to above and beyond any degree that I have seen in my lifetime of being born and raised here in my hometown of Eugene. (108 degrees record high) Yesterday I was out and about getting ready for being subjected to the heat of summer. I am even afraid to go to the river side. But I still might. Lot's of different drinks, ice cream, a kiddie pool and two 'in window' air conditioners later... I am still dreading being stuck in the house. The wall of unrelenting heat is about to hit us. It's unnerving. Keep your minds open and take charge of your lives. You will have to dig deep to find truth amidst the chaos of the controls that are placed into our society and our culture (whatever that may be for you.) America is a big experiment in self-governance. Know your history. Don't go blindly by mainstream media. If it's too late for you then don't bother the rest of us who are striving for truth, justice and the right to happiness. The birth rights. The human rights. It is not your way or the highway. Everyone can have the freedom to be themselves. But don't ask me to change who I am so that you can be who you are. OR go ahead and ask me. I'll consider it. I really will. Just be. Stay out of your own way. Fear will not have its way with you if you kick it in the balls. 062521

Okay. I just have to come out and say it. I cleaned four toilets today. It started with my own here at home.
Unfortunately I didn't happen to go on tour with Tom Petty when he had Steve Winwood with him. I did meet Winwood and actually sing with him right there on the street. We spoke of how much we loved Roberta Flack. I can't recall why she came up in convo. Oh actually I think it was because he asked me to sing something and I was working on "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" so I began playing it and he started singing with me and I kept forgetting this one chord and anyway he walked away and Kaffe', who was Winwood's percussionist on that tour asked me if I knew who that was. I said no. And he said: that was Steve Winwood. Preface this as I had been playing music on the street outside the venue in Eugene. Busking and hoping to sing for Tom Petty, truth be known. I got pretty close. It was at Matthew Knight Arena. I got offered quite a few passes and ended up seeing the concert. Anyway. I cleaned four toilets today and if you ask me, that is four to many. ps. I actually kind of knew it was Winwood because of his distinct English accent. He also knew the author of the song we sang. It wasn't Roberta Flack like I had thought it was written by Scottish political singer/songwriter Ewan MacCall. I realize no one cares. No one cares if I clean a toilet or two or not. I betcha everybody cleans toilets. Am I right? 061821

Phew. I've been wanting to put that last little bloggish rant behind me! What's done IS DONE. The past is dead and gone. AND my harmonica solo just worked out after SO many takes. HOLY COW. I am genuinely relieved. I haven't been blowing the harp for very long. Just a few years and I am still mostly comfortable with playing straight harp as it's called. Greg Rundo, one of my all time favorite people and harmonica players gave me some important advice that I took to heart many years ago at a Brewfest here in town that we were both working at. He said something to the affect, (and I paraphrase here) but it went like: everyone plays harmonica in their own unique way. It made me feel like it was alright that I didn't play perfectly. I like to breathe into the melody and almost sing through the harmonica. Well, anyway. NOW I can get to work doing a bit of a rough mix on Garage Band and putting together some footage from all the video stuff that I have been shooting since my dad died two months ago. This next song release is called New Path and it really captures what's happening here in Lane County Oregon as we all embark on a new way into the future. Where ever you are in the world I've been thinking of you. I've been focusing on reaching out around the world with my thoughts. Join me as we lift our energies up and experience the universe together in harmony. Woo Woo. All the way!!!!! 0601121

Getting kinda honest here...I am shy these days. I used to be able to step onto any stage and just belt it out. Now I am feeling more selective. I don't want to just show off anymore. Not that I was ever an egotistical kind of singer. Maybe a diva in certain ways. It's not too much to ask that someone actually listens to me. I don't want to beg for attention by proving my talent for belting out a show tune or something like La Vie En Rose. It just feels like I am done trying to prove myself to anyone. I want to be in touch with my calm nature and my true intention of actually having something valid to share. Something pretty or beautiful to sing... by the time I'm in the "please listen to me! see? I have talent, I'm worth listening to" mode I kinda lose my connection to a deeper spirit. Maybe it was that my own mother wouldn't listen. Maybe it was that she shut me down on the piano and locked me in my bedroom when I was five. Who knows? But I am done proving or trying to prove that I am worth listening to. I am done trying to sing to a bar full of semi-drunk on alcohol and drugged out people. Why have I been up against all of this for so long??? So, thanks for listening to me. Did you know that you mean the world to me? It's true. I am so grateful for the real listeners. 060621

Brownsville, Oregon is the third oldest township in the state of Oregon. In fact Gap Road in the town is part of the original Oregon trial with all those folks coming over in covered wagons to BE the wild west. We got a bed & breakfast this Memorial Day 2021 weekend to celebrate the local Gemini of the house. It was an odd little stay as it was actually in an old building built originally in 1912 located in the historic downtown near our favorite place Randy's Cafe where there are the most delicious cinnamon rolls. Anyway, it was sweet to be in the old town. We rode our bikes around all afternoon and ended up down by the Calapooia River. I should mention that I have four generations buried in the Brownsville Pioneer Cemetery. We drove up there after visiting some horses and I had to go get antihistamine because I am allergic to horses. A very sad fate for me because I LOVE THEM. I recorded some live footage in the front window and I am going to edit and put together some more footage for the Patreon sit (which I have done now!) I also want to put some more music up on the Youtube channel soon (also done!) I had a good show at The Applegate Theatre yesterday in Veneta, Oregon when I shared the stage with Megan and Lee of Charming Tempest. 053021

After my morning mediation I notice the back door is open onto the small backyard where years ago I dug a fire pit. There are large river rocks surrounding the circle where the fire burns. The birds are singing sweetly and it echoes into the kitchen, through the dining room and into the living room where I sit typing this. I have an antique English cup with organic raspberry tea and I can look out beneath the green oriental maple to the garden and the street outside. My house sits on a slight incline on the bottom of what is known as College Hill here in my hometown of Eugene. I know it's on a slight incline because the ceiling is cracking a bit right above where I sit. After six plus years of renting here I finally climbed up on the table this past winter and used putty to fill in the crack. The house was built in 1923 or 1924. The song bird has moved on now and all I can hear is my dog's gentle breath as he sleeps on the couch and the murmur of my son's online college class from the back bed room. I am about to get my bike and ride downtown under the grey spring sky. I am going for a massage. Later I will edit and post a new video to Patreon. 051821

Top the mornin' to yuh. Strange daze are upon us...still. Venturing out yesterday I went to one of my favorite little cafe's. It's called Sanctum and it is in one of the oldest buildings in Eugene. It is housed in an old hotel that was built in 1909. Put on the historic landmarks list in 1978 then known as The Palace Hotel. I wish there was a book called: Stories from the Griggs and Palace but there is not. Hotels could tell such amazing stories if they could talk. I want to know who owns the building now and if they might let me explore under the auspices of writing a book. I wonder if they'd let me. Apparently once a building is historic it cannot be transformed so I imagine the rooms are still intact. The porch is amazing and next time I go I think I'll sit outside. Yesterday I had a pot of green tea and avocado on toast with balsamic vinegar. I did some journaling and read some non-fiction. The world is in full spring bloom and even though people seem in a daze and the streets are empty I am finding sublime joy. There are far more amazing and beautiful moments than there are hard and cutting moments of reality. For this I am grateful. 051121

So I am doing this new thing in my head. I am loving life. Every minute. Deciding that life, in fact, is SO amazing that even things that are 'bad or gross' are actually good because: LIFE. So like, I love dog poop. I love traffic. I love headaches. I love tulips. But I also love garbage trucks. I love everything. Because I am alive. I love the good, the bad and the ugly. I love the homeless. I love all races. All religions. I love life. I love love. I love it all. Even the hardships. Because life is amazing.

Just wrote an obituary for the first time. It is my father's. (See below)

It maybe that I am getting soft in my old age. What does that even mean? Anyway, under more old fashioned normal circumstances I am always a little annoyed watching Woody Allen movies. The least annoying one so far is from 2020. The choices made in the script, the story, the New York City back drops, the acting, the music, the directing, the editing, all of it comes together with humor and fabulous writing in such a way at to create a sense of a perfectly watched movie when all is (not) said and done... This flick is called A Rainy Day in New York and it harkens back to a Woody Allen of yester yore but with such a deep cleverness as to be heartbreakingly refreshing. I've been called obtuse in the last week so I am taking time to explain myself a little better. People are increasingly on the defense and I fear for common dialogue amongst associates near and far. It may all be a lost art now. You know, communication. It means not taking the easy roads. And by that I mean people are different and I can speak for myself when I say I want to know more and yet finding truth is difficult and requires a sense of good measure. The ability to know something of integrity, morality, honesty and good intent is in high order and I would hope that we all strive to express ourselves in ways that we feel we are listened to and as well, to listen with an inquisitive mind. I say this because I know that we all live one day at a time. But more importantly these days is the ability to be discerning when it comes to the information we are seeking and the understanding we are longing to feel. In the other words listen for truth. Feel truth in you heart and bones. Know truth. And the truth shall set you free. 042421

Spring always shocks me. It seems more beautiful than I ever remember it being. And we must seep ourselves in its glory everyday because soon the grass will be drier, the trees will be well on their way to fall and already the daffodils have gone. The lilacs just barreled through and if I blink that will be over also. The earth keeps rolling and I feel happier than I have felt in years even considering the absolute crazy state of the world. And considering the death of my father. Caretaking for two years almost made me forget who I am and how to live. It made me forget how to breathe. The anxiety of impending death of a loved one... it lasted two years. When death came I could hardly comprehend it even though I had been anticipating it and fearing it. And now I can breathe again. The ashes in a most peaceful place of rest for my dear father. Forgiveness all a flutter and life is going on. I worry about how hard it was for my friends and family to try to relate to me for those years. I honestly had not realized how absent I have been from my own being. May poems and songs return to my heart. May dances return to my feet. May flowers and soil again coat my hands with the hope of the greening of spring. May we all be alive. 042221

I've been walking to the meadow in the mornings. Yesterday it was pretty warm so today I went earlier to beat the heat. Moving slow and taking the alley is the way to go. There are a few different routes I can take from my house to get there. I saw a small bird at her nest feeding her babies. And I stood below a song bird and watched it trill its music huffing its little feathered chest and belting out such a pretty little tune. It is particularly difficult to navigate the way some people are these days. In a complete state of covid19 fear. They mask up and do a distant dose' dough to avoid humans. But it is what it is. I passed by the guy with the giant poodle who was on his phone and stepped out into the street to avoid me as an oncoming garbage truck came barreling by. Whatever. We can't take people's fear personally. Most folks are happy to stop and chat and let me pet their dog. I mean, he was on his phone after all. I meandered down the path through the meadow and then went off the beaten path down to the old apple tree where I hung a couple chimes the day after my dad passed. The tree is in bloom with the most beautiful small white pinkish blossoms. It's an old tree. One of the branches is held up with a big brace but that doesn't stop me. I climb right up and sit up on that old tree branch. I straddled that thing and read poems. Today I found a poetry text book in a little free library so I sat up there and read a few poems and cried. Here's one of them:

Those Winter Sundays
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call.
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices? by Robert Hayden (1913-1980)

When I was up in that tree I started thinking about how I would later write this very blog except then in my mind I started it with: Since you've been gone...

Phew! I am so excited. It really is the 'little' things in life. I ordered new frames for my glasses. As the big things in life are really giving me a run for my money. We cast my fathers ashes into Cape Creek this past Sunday. Twenty days after his passing. The whole process...for the past two years of caregiving and through his death and cremation...has been amazingly difficult. A rite of passage for sure. I had asked the mortuary to call me when they were going to cremate his body. So they called on a Friday evening at 5:30 (Good Friday) and said he'd be going in. I felt really weird. Like 'why the heck did I have them call me'? But I crawled in bed and tripped out on it for that half hour before his time and then at 6pm I went into the room where he died, lit candles, gathered all the flowers around, burned insense, and watched a Buddhist cremation ceremony on Youtube which talked me through with statements like: the soul cannot burn etc. I cried. I meditated. I sang and then after two hours at high heat they let the bones cool down and since it was a Friday he cooled all weekend. It is all really almost too much for me. My son and I picked up the ashes on the following Friday and I had this odd feeling that my dad was there in spirit waiting for us to pick him up. He rode in the back seat home. And I didn't sleep well at all having his ashes in the same room where he passed. So the next day I called my brother and we made the plan that dad wanted which was to go to the lighthouse park at Heceta Head and put him in the creek. Unity of the Valley had sent a lovely bouquet of flowers so I brought that with me and right before my brother poured the ashes into the water and we tossed flowers into the peaceful, slow moving creek I touched his ashes to my lips and cast out the first dusty handful.

They say that forgiveness is letting go of all hope for a better past.

Healing. Recovering. Accepting. All we can do is live this moment. When we make mistakes there are consequences. And if we can live through our losses, whatever they may be, then we are transformed. Our perspectives are changed through sorrow, through self forgiveness and through making amends. Life does not get easier. As is quite obvious these days in our world. When we hold onto things past expiration dates we will certainly feel queazy and uneasy. Longing for and creating grace can be a goal when trying to live more simply. Carrying baggage from the past challenges our grip on the present. Having a deep regret because we tried to hold onto the past carrying its stories into our future with us can create such a mess when we no longer can hold our parts of the story together that we are telling ourself. The thing is, the thing that is the worst about not letting go of expired relationships is that in the end we hurt people. Maybe there are ways to be graceful sooner so as to express real feelings and/or realize the momentum needed to move onward into further simplicity. So even if you cannot forgive someone for words they have said or deeds they have done we can truly hope to let go. No one is perfect. But the only person we owe is ourself. I owe myself the honor of seeking grace sooner. I owe myself forgiveness. The stories are changing. Some are coming to an end. May everyone's bitterness subside. 040821

That was then. This is now productions presente' the life and times of me, myself and I. The only true contender in any of this life stuff is myself. Second person would be you. The you of your life and times. And the ever impending death of the impermanent mind. As you take for granted yet live each glorious breath as it comes in and out of you, bringing life, make no mistake about it this all will end in peace and quiet AND the earth will roll on through the galaxy as you are cast into star dust.

Swallow those vitamins as you swallow your pride. Take down ALL of the mirrors and develop new habits of self actualization. The thrill is not gone. Self absorption leads to a certain lack of concept of soul. Watch that video about cremation and realize that suffering comes from attachment.

Put that chill vibe music on. Escape into the 21 rst century. The first century was zero to one hundred. The new year, as in the old pagan calendar has been marked by Springs arrival. Jesus hung on the cross yesterday which was good Friday and also the day my father was cremated. And I try not to faint as I type this. 04032021

photo by Steve Spoulos
Springfield, Oregon