Another blog post about moons and love ...

 For Christmas, my sweetie lassoed the moon. Just like George Bailey.

But because Ben did it, it's even more magical and sweet and I was so overwhelmed to come to bed on Christmas evening to a moon in my room!  It's one of those remote-controlled ones that you hang on the wall and you hit the remote and the moon goes into its phases, or you can set it to a particular phase and it glows a friendly light for 30 minutes before shutting down.  So it's part night light, part learning tool (we're in waxing gibbous phase right now), and all wonderful. 



What's especially sweet about Ben gifting me with a moon is because, well, we still have neighbors next door who insist on leaving their garage lights on all night, so I have to close the blinds or else get blinded every time I getup to use the bathroom.  So, I don't have the luxury (yes, it's a luxury these days to actually be able to have our window blinds OPEN) to look outside my window and see the moon.  At least now, I have a glowing moon-like orb right on my wall, above the closet.  It makes things a bit easier that way and I don't go to sleep hating the folks next door.  Hate is not something I want to take with me into the new year (as you can tell by reading some recent posts).

And that is a natural transition to the Full Moon that comes tomorrow.  It's a Cancer-Capricorn moon and it's been given the nickname "The Love Moon"; Cancer is all about emotion and love and nurturing and Capricorn is about balance, so we're asked to balance emotion about relationships with a sense of stability.  Tomorrow is the perfect time to take stock of the loving, familial feelings we have when we spend time with like-minded people.  To take a close look at our love relationships and see how we deeply connect, not just on a physical level, but emotionally and spiritually.  We're urged  to go quietly within when we meditate on the strands of love that weave together our lives with others, to lend them a deep sense of value and give thanks for them.

What's very interesting is that 2012 began with a Cancer-Capricorn moon and it's ending with one as well.  It's as if the cosmos had it all worked out from the get-go: 2012 was a time to learn and grow from all the seismic shifting, learning how to balance all those disparate energies and, ultimately, owing our emergence from the roller coasters of the year to the one true, pure thing we can always count on: love.




 

Choose Love.

I was driving in the north suburbs on Thursday after a rather satisfying voice-over session, en route to the Chicago Botanical Garden for a long walk through the trees, when suddenly I remembered something rather vexing.  I hadn't thought of it in years, but suddenly, the flood of memories sparked a tidal wave of emotion, causing me to enter into prayerful contemplation once I did reach my walking destination.  You see, while driving through Highland Park, IL, I recalled (seemingly out of nowhere) that nearby, many years ago, a disturbed woman (whose name I've decided to not repeat, lest give dark energies more of a toehold) opened fire on elementary school children, killing several innocents.


Yesterday morning, while getting ready for a busy day of working out, visiting Dad, and beginning a steady stream of Christmas-making activities, I was met with the news of the killings in Newtown, CT.  A disturbed man opened fire on elementry school children, killing several innocents.  The similarities between the two events were chilling.  Did I somehow have a precognitive hit while driving through the northern Chicago suburbs?  Was I tapping into a rivlet of mass consciousness already rippling with sadness from the Oregon shooting of the day before?

After careful reflection, this is what I believe:

2012 is the end of the world.  Truly.  But we have the choice to choose what world is ending.  Is it a world of safety and love and security and people helping people that must end?  Or, can we put an end to suffering, to senseless murder, to a society who's growing in carelessness and a lack of caring for life?

2012 is a tipping point.  Anyone with eyes in their head or a functioning brain in their cranium can see it.  When I saw President Obama during his press conference yesterday about the shootings, when he became overwhelmed with grief, unable to continue speaking for several moments, something in me shifted.  We have a leader who may, just may, be able to begin turning more of us toward compassion and care, rather than conflict and a sense of entitlement.  Our country - and, indeed, the world -- is at a crisis point where we simply cannot afford the luxury of complacency anymore.

If we view the shootings in Newtown as just another symptom of unsafe, ineffective gun laws, lack of sufficient mental health care, or just another cog in the wheel of hate and fear that's running rampant through the world -- and leave it at that --  we are allowing darkness to preside.

If we look at this tragedy for even a moment and become desensitized by what we see, darkness has won.

Allow the waxing of light to win.  Pray for peace.  Call your congresspeople and demand stricter gun laws, better mental health care.  Write to our Presdeint and tell him that, in that moment of humaness, of frailty and realness that he displayed, you saw him in his full capacity as a leader and you wish for him to continue to be transparent about his feelings on this matter, affecting real change on gun policy in this country.

Pray for the Love to prevail, for God and goodness to win.  For the end of the dark world and the triumph of the light.  Because that is the only answer.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPdbkkWx--0

 

Monday is Tarot Day once again! Looking forward to SO much!!

I was just playing today with my new Victorian Romantic deck from Baba Studio (the second edition with even more breathtaking imagery!) and thought about the three of wands card, and Advent, and looking forward to something miraculous.

I'll write about the tumultuous year of 2012 later this month; right now,let's focus upon Advent, the time of preparation for moving forward, of looking ahead, of all miracles that are possible.  

The three of wands usually depicts a man with three staffs and he's looking toward the horizon, ready to go forth and tackle, travel, and trust that the road ahead is true.  In the new version of the Victorian Romantic tarot, this card depicts a man with some sort of horn with a dragon head where the sound comes out.  It's almost as if he's signalling whoever's in his way, "Hey!  Coming through!  Big plans ahead!!!"

And that brought to mind Advent time, one of my most favorite times in the typical Christian calendar year, when we look forward to the birth of the Baby Jesus.  But it's more than that: it's the time we renew those feelings of anticipation of wonder and miracles.  We anxiously await hearing the retelling of the Christmas story (sometimes the one that Linus recites is the best, if you ask me), about the miracles therein.  And I always think, "Hey - if that miracle happened, what kinds of miracles are in store for me?"

They ARE there, just beyond the horizon ... 

December 5, 2012: Disney and Dave

 

While driving between a voice-over and writing and Zazzle time (as in, posting items to my Zazzle store: check 'em out at http://www.zazzle.com/amusementparkfun), I learned that the masterful, enigmatic Dave Brubeck passed away today.  He would've been 92 tomorrow. 

Uncle Walt Disney would've been 111 today.

Both men are alpha and omegas, constants in this world of variables. They've always been a part of the fabric of my world, from my earliest recollections. They'll never leave, they're always here, and they carry on, transmuting somehow, with every absorption of their work.

In honor of them both, here's a Disney/Dave mash-up I have a particular fondness for:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnOYtUUX6kU

A curious day needs a bit of magical reflection, I believe.

Mercury's direct, so let's shake off the goo and get something cooking! And shaking!!

For some reason, this last Mercury retrograde, which just ended yesterday, really affected me, getting me stuck like something sticky, stuck in something stickier than molasses that was set outside in the frosty air, which would cause it to harden, so it's not only stuck but frozen in place, with a hold stronger than Crazy Glue used on something set adrift on an ice floe, only to find itself stranded in the middle of the Antarctic, with nowhere to go.

THAT kind of stuck.

It began on Election Day, where things ended up going very much in (I feel) not only my favor but the world's favor, but still scared us so witless that a bunch of us got together at our place and ate copious amount of junk food, including but not limited to red velvet cupcakes, until our President was re-elected and we sighed a huge, palpable sigh (but I didn't "trust" the outcome until about a day later, because it was, in fact, Mercury "if anything wacky can happen with technology it WILL happen" time) and has lasted just about three weeks and now it's finally gone and I say "good riddance" and "don't let the door hit you in the bum on the way out, you bum!"  Because I had the darnedest time concentrating, getting simple things like emails and invoices done.  No time for blogging, heavens no!  Because I was really only able to focus on stupid TV shows, or Angry Birds and Scrabble on my Android.  And even then, I sorta aimlessly sat there on the sofa, pecking away at my smarty phone, while the world whirred around me, and along with it, many of the things (other than theatre; did three shows in about 7 months and I need a break) that fed my soul (my book, books I'm reading, meditation, tarot, life coaching, planning trips, planning parties, planning sweet surprises for my sweetie, etc.). 

But now, as the pesky mercury retrograde in Scorpio/Sagittarius ends, I'm swept up in the directness of the zippy Messenger planet, and it appears as though I've gained a whopping amount of mental clarity, as if the stuckedness was almost a gestation period, and now I'm ready to plow ahead like a plucky Engine Who Could - and CAN.  In the last 36 hours or so, I've contacted a social media guru to help me with my book, wrote out countless emails and invoices, sent thank you notes and cards for various occasions/reasons, wrapped gifts, bought gifts, settled some money issues (some not to my liking, but at least I have clarity on some things and, really, it's all for the best), put stuff up for sale on Ebay, sent out emails and posted things on Facebook regarding my book and accompanying 2013 calendar (A nifty gift idea!  Contact me to learn more!!), and had enough mental clarity to buy the ingredients for a simply smashing cocktail to surprise Ben with last night.  Here's what you do:

1 oz. tropical white rum
1 oz. lemon juice (preferred Meyer lemons, but any old FRESH lemon will do.  Don't sully this experience with bottled lemon juice, please.)
1 oz Lillet blanc
1 tbsp. honey syrup (to make, take 1/4 cup honey and two tbsps. of water and cook it for a little bit on the stove and that's that)

Shake it with ice, drain it into a glass, drink it and exclaim, "My GAWD, this is an amazing cocktail!  Where has it been all my life?  My life has been a sad shadow of what it could've been if this cocktail was part of it sooner."  (BTW: can't find the recipe for it that I originally found in a Chicago magazine at the chiropractor's office, but here's at least a different article about the many benefits of living with Lillet in your fridge, from an earlier Chicago magazine article: http://www.chicagomag.com/Chicago-Magazine/July-2012/Its-Cocktail-Hour-for-Lillet/.  You're welcome.)

So.  Today is my baby Ben's birthday, and I'm surprising him with, well, he's probably going to read this before the event, so I won't say, but it'll be a fun, relaxing, festive and food-filled evening.  And, besides the material gifts he'll receive, he's got the uber bonus of a fully-realized wife again.  And that, my friends, is the sweetest thing of all.

Even better than a Lillet cocktail ...

Election Special. Super Tarot Tuesday. Summoning the 6 of Wands

This has been, without a doubt, the most derisive, hard-fraught, nasty, and mercurial election season that I've witnessed in this lifetime.  Powers on both sides are unwavering in what they believe is true.

And they both hope and pray that their guy will be riding the horse of victory later this evening.

Okay.  Enough of being party neutral.  I'm an Obama girl, through and through.  I'l be wearing all blue today, and tonight I'll be watching the results of the election with friends.  We're serving blue cheese and crackers, blue chips, and the drinks on the roster include blueberry juice and blue curacao.  So there.

But let me extrapolate that a bit further.  What I'm creating today, throughout the day, is a surge of positivity for my President, for the Democratic party in general, and I'm doing this not only with my vote, but with my attitude and energy.  And, very importantly, I'm focusing on all of them winning.  I'm seeing them in the most positive terms and not giving any energy to the Other Side.  Because what we feed grows.  And, right now, the only thing I want to grow and manifest is a huge Democratic victory this evening, with the Blue Team riding with the heads held high, Forward, onto victory.

I'll be lighting a blue candle and saying prayers and summoning angels.  I'll do some tarot work (focusing on the victorious figure in the 6 of Wands card) and take a walking meditation.  I'll have a picture of President Obama and his family happily taking the stage at McCormick Place this evening to thank everyone for voting President Barack Obama into a victorious second term.  This, besides my vote (and some monetary gifts) is the very best thing I can do for the furthering of democracy, acceptance, and equality in this country.

Please join me.  The blue, tranquil waters are lovely...


PS: If you're interested in what some other metaphysicians are saying, please take a look at this article and follow through with the links.  Fascinating:  http://astrology.about.com/b/2012/11/02/mercury-retrograde-and-american-political-witchcraft.htm?nl=1

Happy Halloween! Blessed Samhain!

Whether you're handing out tricks and treats, or celebrating the New Year, here's a little pastiche of fun for the season:

How about a "very Brady Halloween"?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=h2cGxsjeUiw

Or perhaps you'd like to listen to the Disney Hautned Mansion record from your childhood?  Well, here ya go:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=DMS_3Vro6Ls

Or maybe you just have the same guilty pleasure movie that I do?  Midnight margaritas, anyone?:


https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=1Ihb6FLSh64

But really, what's the day without a little "Bewitched". specifically Serena?:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=4_Mxe25aJvI

The enchantingly beautiful (inside and out) Elizabeth Montgomery.

Elizabeth Montgomery has been a long-time hero of mine.  Not only for her work on "Bewitched" but her other endeavors, as well as her support for the gay community.

Please take some time to view this great little tribute to this wonderful actress:

 http://www.afterelton.com/2012/10/29/bewitching-elizabeth-montgomery

Calgon! Take me away! It's almost the Taurus moon...

Do you remember this classic commercial?:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVLzkTuVmrw

It's 11:33 AM on a Tuesday.  But I have the strongest desire to run a bubble bath, slip into it, and sip on some Limoncello, while listening to bossa nova.

Just read that the upcoming Full Moon on October 29th will be in Taurus.  And that pertains to earthly, sensual pleasures.  Its effects are starting to have their way with me. 

This is no surprise; my Moon is IN Taurus.  I'm quite the fan of comfy, sensual, tactile, aromatic things and places.  I've also had a lot of Taurus men as friends, and sometimes as more.  I'm hardwired for this.

So please pardon me right now, while I prepare that candlelit bath, pop on Herb Alpert's "Whipped Cream and Other Delights", and bliss out,  not moving for a delicious 15 minutes or so.  I have lots to do after that, lots of clearing and cleaning and organizing, but for that quarter-hour, nada.

Oh, let's not forget the limoncello.  Just a soupcon...

Lose yourself in luxury.  I'll be cleaning the house while wearing velvet.  And some Chanel No. 5.

 

Monday is Tarot Day: Celebrate good times, come on!

See these happy folks?  Well, although they're wearing togas and not early 20th-century attire, they resemble our cast and crew of "A Little Night Music."  You see, alhtough we had a rather disjointed rehearsal process, and the space is tiny (so much so that we're essentially a human Jenga game backstage, moving deftly out of each other's way to necessitate correct and timely entrances - and so we don't inadvertently kill each other), and we have one-third the musicians we thought we'd have, we have a GOOD show.  A solid show.  one that I'm proud to have folks pay money to attend.

We went into opening night not really expecting much in the way of enthusiasm or kudos.  We weren't really sure how the piece would land.  But we had a standing "O" on opening night, and solid, enthusiastic responses since then.

Thursday will mark the start of our second weekend.  I'm looking forward to donning my crimson Desiree wig again and stepping valiantly into another "weekend in the country".

Monday is Tarot Day: Desiree Armfeldt and the Queen of Wands. And me.

I rarely use significators IN a reading.  I always keep them in the deck so that they might be pulled for any card position in a spread.  But I do have a significator, who I meditate upon from time to time.  She is the Queen of Wands and She.  Is.  Awesome.

And I'm basically portraying her in a musical at this moment.

I've written about her before.  But I'm going to take the liberty of doing so again, under the rosy-sensual lens of the character I'm playing in "A Little Night Music."  Because, although my character and I don't have THAT much in common, we're still alike in some ways.  Only in some.  I'm certainly not as flighty as she, and I have but one love, but when I'm playing full-out, I know we share the same Queen of Wands attributes of independence and sense of play.

I'm Desiree Armfeldt: actress, mother, daughter.  Lover to many, but love to only one.  Sometimes not someone you can trust your husband to. Doing character work for Desiree, I've decided she's a glass of champagne.  She's flighty, like the wind.  She's a whisper, a child, rambunctious and fanciful.  And she's happiest when bubbling, even when she works that bubble into a slow simmer.  She likes to indulge herself, likes to touch, to sip, to sniff.  She's fire, buoyed on by all that airiness, energetic and creative: much like the Queen of Wands.

But remember what I said about not trusting her around your husband?  Yes, that's there, but she's extricating herself out of that world - and thanks heavens for that!  She's wielding her magic Wand, creating a new life for herself.  Okay, so she's manipulating things to her advantage, but that's what she's learned in order to survive.  But she's realizing she's grown beyond that and she wishes to create a "coherent existence" for herself and her daughter - and for the man she loves.

Thanks for letting me share a little about Desiree and her twin soul, the Queen of Hearts.  If you're interested in seeing the production I'm in, it runs Oct. 19 through Nov. 10, 2012 at the small-but-mighty Village Theatre Guild in Glen Ellyn, IL.  http://www.villagetheatreguild.org/

Monday is tarot Day! Even though it's been a while and you might have forgotten..

 

But I haven't forgotten.  Even though life got me sidetracked and distracted; I got cast in a lead role in a musical, work's been either non-existent or heavyburdencrowdedbusy.  Yo-yo world.

But when I finally sat down and realized I hadn't blogged here since September 4th, wooEE!  That's just shabby.

And that's one word that simply does not describe me.

So, back on the horse again, riding into an October that proves to be a full and varied one.  Lots of things to choose, some distractions - gee, there's that word again.

I think I'm aiming to ponder what distractions are entering my universe.  I get the feeling that it would be a really great lesson to take some time, perhaps in meditation or my nature hikes, and contemplate what the distractions are and why they have such a hold on me.

Like this shadowy figure in the Seven of Cups, I've had a lot of "pretty-shiny" recently and have had to take the string that I hold onto that's attached to my head and pull it back down to earth so my head doesn't simply float away.

Pretty-shiny.  So many directions to go in, what to choose?  Decisions, decisions, and even more decisions.  An octopus-shaped array of choices.

Girl needs a long bath in a soaky, warm tub.  Or does she really?  Or is it jut another bauble?

Monday is Tarot Day. Busyness. And bravery in the face of busyness.

I'm busy.  I mean, really, really busy.  Just got cast in "A Little Night Music", so there's that: the blocking, the memorizing, the hoping I don't have to wear a corset that restricts my breathing and/or digestion.

One of my heroes, Angela Lansbury, with Catherine Zeta-Jones in the recent Broadway revival of "A Little Night Music".  I'm playing Desiree, the Zeta-Jones role on the right.  In period dress.

Then there's getting ready for our upcoming trip to Colorado.  We'll be visiting the greater Denver/Boulder area and doing all sorts of things (including a visit to the Denver coaching chapter where Ben will present a lecture), but we're primarily there for my mother-in-law's 70th birthday and her 30th anniversary/recommitment ceremony.  She asked me to sing "Simple" by k.d. lang, so I'm reconnecting with that beautiful song. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yps8XYldq7U

  And so there's the packing.  And lining up things before we're away.  Things like letting agents and clients know I'll be away.  Getting things set up so my Dad's taken care of completely (although he has his caregivers, we just want to make sure all his supplies are up-to-date, meds are filled, etc.).

We are planning to recreate the Sleeping Beauty Castle using bricks made out of angel food cake.  Well, okay, no we're not, but what we ARE planning is pretty detailed and crazy.

 Then there's the party.  The day after we get back from the Rockies, we're mounting our Summer Soiree, and the theme this year is Disney (more specifically Disneyland) and we're geeking out like we've never geeked out before.  So many things need to be planned, written up, copied, constructed, decorated, bought, mixed and transformed RIGHT NOW.  Our annual summer party is not unlike a theatrical production.  This one ups the ante times twenty.

And everything that's on my plate at the moment requires fine-tuned, highly-competent planning, a brave frame of mind that doesn't waiver or question for one moment that things won't be absolutely perfect and turn out swimmingly.

So, when I pack my tarot deck for the party, I'll be slipping out the Chariot card and allowing myself a few moments to mediate on his determination, focus and strength.

He's a great ally for an actor/singer/traveler/party planner/worried daughter/loving wife to have on her side.

Monday is Tarot Day: I auditioned for "A Little Night Music" - and can't figure out which character I like best ...

... or which one I can delve most deeply into. Or which one I'd most want to commiserate with, gossip with, have tea and butter cookies with, get tipsy with. Or who's the moodiest.  Or which one I'm moodier than.

The play is all about romance and unrequited (and requited) love.  It's a waltz in twilight.  It's sensual and emotional.  And I often play funny ladies who pull funny faces.

So on the audition form, I wrote I'd like to be the funny lady most (dry, droll, kinda bitchy - but most of that comes from covering up and coping with emotional pain).  And I'd never done that before - actually specified a role preference like that on an audition form.  It felt presumptuous, but it also felt presumptuous to put the larger role first as I have some schedule conflicts.  Thing is, I like them both - they're spectacular and complicated and wear frilly dresses, or maybe even floor-length velvet (which is a big thing for me).

Anyway - then I read for the less-than-funny lady, the larger role  Actually, I sang her main song.  The big song.  And I cried.  And I can't remember ever crying during an audition before (I can remember crying sometimes after), but cry I did.

I'm not entirely sure where this post is going, other than I entered the worlds of two women this evening who have very different agendas, needs, and wants.  And I ended up liking them both equally.  And I felt their pain.  And excitement.  And desires.  And souls.

And that rarely happens during an audition for a show.  And what I'm realizing right now is that not only am I embodying the emotional, watery nature of The Queen of Cups, but the characters I read for show the full gamut of aspects (both upright and reversed) of this marvelous Queen: sensual, nurturing, caring, sensitive, a little crazy-in-love, a little too nervous, jealous, a little manic even.  Entirely desperate and incalculably strong.

And I've never had that happen to me before; to see so clearly how a tarot card can act as the significator for not only myself, but two fictional characters.  All in the course of one twilit night.

Strange 1968 Westinghouse video for designer appliance panels.

http://retrorenovation.com/2012/08/27/strange-1968-westinghouse-film-for-refrigerator-with-decorator-panels/

• Supreme Walnut!
• Rattan!
• Catawba Cherry!
• Astro-Glo Bronze!
• Surftex Black!

Thanks to Pam over at Retro Renovation (a site I visit often and follow on Facebook), my Monday has been made.  Feast your eyes on this sumptuously strange video from Westinghouse circa 1968.  Please watch the whole thing; you'll be glad you did.  I fell like I just took a dive into a groovy bathtub full of late-Sixties design.

And, yes, for those who know me and know the parties I throw with Ben, the idea of "Match Your Parties" is so VERY appealing to me!!

Yard sale: vintage clothing and kitchenware "honey hole". Let the slobbering begin!

The dudes on "American Pickers" call it the "honey hole": a place where  time has seemingly stood still and someone searching for vintage treasures finds a veritable gold mine of items in fantastic shape, of good quality, and in the styles that please their aesthetics. Well, I deem today "Honey Hole Day".  In the quiet suburb of Villa Park, Ben and I, with our adorable Ivy beagle in tow, happened upon a yard sale that blew me away like few ever have.  My first clue that I'd tumbled into something spectacular was when I found a small table holding vintage eyewear.  The women's cat eyeglasses were too small for me, but a pair of men's glasses fit Ben to a "T" - and at fifty cents for the pair, Ben leapt at the chance to look a little more like Harry Crane from "Mad Men".

I knew I'd struck vintage gold when I wandered over to a rack of clothing - and found it to be crammed full of dresses, separates, and children's clothing from the 40s and 50s, mostly in good to excellent condition.  Sadly, the dresses were anywhere from a modern size 0 to a 4, so as they basically would only cover one thigh, I moved along.


A nearby table held piles of vintage boys' clothing and men's shirts, and an open, old suitcase showed off a collection of hankies and scarves - all vintage.  I snapped up two longer, floral scarves, one with Pucciesque flowers, and added them to my pile at the seller's table.

It was at that moment that Ben said, "Um, Honey??? --" in the way that tells me I'm going to be in delicious trouble.  "Honey -- you might want to check out the dishes and kitchen stuff..."

And that's when I learned that the woman who used to live in the house the items were from was a caterer in days gone by.  Tables and shelves and racks held a virtual Woolworth's worth of items: vintage dishes and serving ware and cutlery and anything you can imagine.  If you thought I was breathless and near to wheezing while looking at the clothing (I was; especially when I found the dress in a "fox goes a jumpin'" pattern), it was nothing like my escapades in the homegoods section.  Armload after armload was carefully carried over to my pile, which was beginning to resemble the Matterhorn.

I found the deep desire to speak with the women holding the sale about the vintage clothing.  I learned they found these treasures while searching the house's attic -and encountered hidden closets filled with them (this made me recall actual dreams I'd had about my childhood home, about venturing up into the attic and opening a door I'd never seen before, only to encounter a room full-to-bursting with ladies' tall-sized vintage clothing; but those were dreams and this was real).

After hearing that they were going to take some mouse-bitten items to a clothing recycler, I jumped into action and told them about my friend Alana at Nest Vintage Modern in Brookfield; I truly hope they contact her, because I'm sure she'll be able to recycle/reuse the fabric in a stylish, clever way.  I also referred them to some vintage sellers in the city who will probably give them a fair price for the sartorial gems they were selling at rock-bottom prices.  I really wanted to make sure these pieces were handled with care and that the ladies were given a fair deal.  These weren't yard sale items: they were essentially exhibits in a  museum.


So?  Wondering what I purchased?  Please allow me to give you the Laundry List of Wonder (and I tracked down some photos online to help illustrate):

 - The aforementioned "Harry Crane" men's eyeglasses
 - Two long, vintage floral scarves
  - A dozen barnyard animal "cooky cutters", mint-in-box
 - A white and gold plastic ice bucket
 - A matching white and gold plastic insulated hot&cold pitcher, mint-in-box and never used
 - Two vintage syrup pitchers, with pink and aqua lids
 - A box containing over fifty melamine and melmac dishes, cups, and serving items, in white and aqua.
 - Three vintage Betty Crocker and Better Homes' cookbooks, all in excellent condition
 - A hand-made quilt in pastel floral squares (some containing lavender flowers: very hard-to-find; it's in the dryer right now)
  - One clothing item that actually fit me: a vintage boys' shirt in a "lil' cowpoke roping a lil' steer" pattern.  Label: "Hi Fella" sportswear.  Age 16.  Sanfordized).


My total bill?  $32.50.

Watch that slobbering, will ya?  It's a bit uncouth.

I'll miss Phyllis Diller.

 

It wasn't like she meant the world to me, like a Carol Burnett or Diane Keaton.  I never saw her perform live, and I don't recall every moment she was on a classic 60s TV show.  But I'm gonna miss this woman.  Truly, she was like no other.

Except she was like Madame.  Remember Madame?  I'm speaking of Waylon Flowers' little papier mache grande dame.

As a child, for some reason I couldn't get it around my head that the amazing Phyllis Diller, one of brash laughs and day-glo sequined mini dresses was not the same entity as Madame, Waylon Flowers' better half.  Yes, now I know that one was solid human while the other was solid paper pulp, glue, fabric and feather.  But I was convinced they were one and the same as a child.

Of course, I don't mean to disparage either, but at this said time of Ms. Diller's passing, I just had to share about my childhood foibles.  And also remind you about the brilliance of Waylon Flowers and his Madame.

Here are a few videos of both outrageous women to enjoy.  First, a little Madame:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEojmF-qGYU

Next, some moments with Phyllis, wearing my favorite Phyllis outfit of all time:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mH66_tFP8VA

Monday is Tarot Day! That beautiful, priceless feeling of accomplishment

While in the throes of toiling last week on our Broadway Ballot benefit cabaret, one of my fellow castmates, Barb, said these words:  "This is the kind of project that, when you're done, you really feel you accomplished something."

I couldn't agree more.  Like the craftsman pictured in the 8 of Pentacles card, I feel like our combined skill came through - and today we can breathe that sigh of satisfaction in a job well done. 

In the span of eleven days (well, thirteen eventually if you count the two days of performance leading up to the final day, yesterday Sunday) around twenty of us accomplished the Herculean feat of mounting a show with over two dozen numbers, some of which were very complicated (like Sondheim.  Or Cole Porter with eleventy-seventy verses).  And we did it.

The sense of celebration over this task was so very palpable every single night, but the energy shifted as the days wore on.  After Friday's performance, we were so pumped with adrenaline that we danced and goofed and ate like hopped-up five-year-olds at the after-party the theatre threw for us (some of us actually were more hopped-up than the energetic 5-year-old who was a part of the cast!  And what a true trooper he was.)  It was all about letting go of the anxiety which had built up for almost two weeks' time.

Saturday was a lower energy: still grateful that we were, indeed, getting through everything, but more subdued and, frankly, tired.  Something finally had to give and, well, Saturday was quieter somehow.  And there was much yawning.

Then Sunday kicked in and suddenly we became seasoned auteurs who'd been in rehresals for this for months!  There was a strong sense of solidity, in spirit and in skill, that beamed like the sun through each and every performer.  Shoulders were held high.  And when we all met up in the dressing room afterward, many hugs were shared, a few tears were shed.  We left a bit battle-worn, with a  number of heads shaking in disbelief, and a true sense of pride in the gift we gave our audiences every night: our talents, our heart and soul, and our desire to create a benefit we all could feel grateful we were a part of.

I take off my pointed, mystical hat to all my Broadway Ballot Buddies!!  Oh - and we raked in scads of money for the theatre, selling over 97% of all available seats!

August 15 - big things ...

Back in 2003, a ragtag group of us, decked out in "Mad Max"-ish gear, did a post-apocalyptic version of "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" from "Cabaret" - because Mr. Crowe so requested it (he had ties with a company member of Circle Theatre; that's how we got the "gig").  He loved it; he even gave us a pep talk backstage before curtain.  And, after the show, we got to hang for a bit with the band.  And the ladies all got flowers and a bottle of wine.

THE Russell Crowe.  He's very sweet.

I was just pondering today.  Quite often, during the middle of August, I have big things happening.  Last year, I was finishing up my tours for my book, "The Cotton Candy Road Trip" (with the exception of a visit to Santa's Village Azoosment Park).  Back in 2003, I was part of a group of folks from Circle who were essentially "hired" by THE Russell Crowe to open his show at the House of Blues.  Yes, you read that right.  I got to "work" with Russell Crowe.  

No, really.  This really happened.

I really should check my astrological chart to see what's going on in mid-August, because every year brings with a flight of fancy, something exciting.  Like today: an interview I did for the Chicago Tribune was published about the aforementioned Santa's Village and a portion of it talks about my book!

http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/chi-santas-village-amusement-park-20120814,0,6360507.column

And I'm in a musical review over at Wheaton Drama wherein 22 of us do the equivalent, separately, of a lead role in am musical (read my 8/13 blog post).

Egads, I enjoy the Ides of August.

Monday is Tarot Day: Energy in reserve.

You may notice, if you take a look back, that I posted nothing since last Monday.  Nothing, nada, nie mam nic (that's Polish for "nothing").  And it's not like I had nothing to say; no , that wasn't the reason at all.  The cause for my little vacay?  I've been bone-tired, spent, and double-dog done.

My hubby and I are helping out a good friend by taking part in a benefit for a local theatre.  We and about twenty other folks are all pulling together a musical review in just over a week.  A musical review wherein each and every person has the material that would translate easily into a lead role in just about any regular book musical.  Now, I've done summer stock, I've done all-day, 9-5 rehearsals.  But this one, because of the amount of songs and the small amount of time to really perfect them, is kicking our collective ass.

This evening's rehearsal includes my big solo (oh, I do dream of playing this role for reals!): Ella Peterson's show-stopper, "I'm Going Back" from "Bells Are Ringing".  I've also recently been added to "Moonshine Lullaby" from "Annie Get Your Gun" (Annie was my first lead role back in high school, so it's so sweet to return to her world, even for a little bit), and then the hippie-dippie "Good Morning Starshine" from "Hair".

Now, I love all these songs, all the women I get to portray, all the folks I share the stage with.  But this translates to a lot.  A lot.  A LOT of "A LOTness".  And so I'm storing up my energies tonight, and tomorrow night, and probably even on Wednesday, so that I'll be spunky for Thursday's dress rehearsal and the weekend of shows all this rehearsal is leading up to.

The Nine of Wands guy might just as well have been hobbling through our rehearsals,.  He's a bit battle-worn, but at the same time, he knows there's still more ahead of him to tackle.  He's wise enough to store his energies for the coming battle.

Or maybe it's not a battle.  Maybe it's chorus for "Blow, Gabriel, Blow", ensemble for "The Time Warp", a big song from "Bells are Ringing", another big song from "Annie Get Your Gun", a number from "Hair" where he gets to play stoned, one of four folks singing tight Sondheim harmonies in "The Gun Song" and, later, a part of a true Sondheim vocal monster, "A Weekend in the Country", finished up by a rousing version of "Run, Freedom, Run".

Take a look at his face.  Yeah, maybe that's what's on his schedule for the week ...

Monday is Tarot Day - The Empress

I rarely pull The Empress card when doing readings for myself.  Oh, I have folks pull it quite often when I'm reading for them, especially (no surprise) women.  And, quite often, what comes to the fore after speaking with them is something on the order of needing to reconnect with the feminine or seeing what "maternal energy" means to them.

Yep - those sort of things.  The things that, well, I sometimes have a hard time fully embracing in myself.  Not that I'm boyish, but I've never completely thought of myself as ultra-feminine or frilly.  And I'm not a mom, so ...

So when I was out walking in the arboretum this morning, I really couldn't quite figure out why image of The Empress hit me square in the Third Eye.  Then I decided to meditate upon the image this afternoon.

She's beautiful,isn't she?  She's the ultimate in Girl Power.  A strong femininity.  Fecundity.  And she's completely at ease in the natural world.

"Hmmm... go on," I feel myself saying to myself.

Inner feminine wisdom is receptive and nurturing.  It's strong, it can take a stand, but it doesn't act aggressively.  It holds others in a warm embrace.  It gives.

Interestingly, I'm part of a musical review in the next week or so, and all us actors are putting it together very quickly.  And I know there's some fear regarding how speedy the rehearsal process is.

What's been coming up for me?  I'm actually pretty calm about it all - and I have this deep desire to make sure everyone else is calm, too.  A few things about certain numbers are a little scary, but certainly not outside our scope of ability.  I'm looking forward to fashioning this show, to helping it as best I can, to giving birth to a swell piece of theatre.

Hm.  I think I can relate to this Empress better than I ever thought possible.

That wacky Leo-Aquarius Full Moon, "The Planets", the "Bewitched" house and other things.

Okay, so then.  I had no idea there was a house in Santa Monica which was the inspiration for the house set used for "Bewitched".  Nope, although I'm this uber fan of the show, I don't have it all memorized, nor do I know every scintilla of trivia.  I just know that it's been an inspiration to me since I was a pre-schooler and that my spirit guide's name is Samantha.

So when a friend of mine posted the photos of the actual house and the "set" house on my Facebook wall, I did a flip over imaginary uneven parallel bars like an Olympic gymnast.

Holy Bisquick in a pan!!

And my friend just assumed I'd already made the pilgrimage out to see it.  Sha - NO!  But I'll most definitely add it to our itinerary when next in Southern Cal.

Aquarius, the Water Bearer, all cosmic-like.

So, alright, there's that.  Then I opened the inbox today to receive a newsletter from Molly Hall of About.com Astrology.  Come the early hours of August 2, this Thursday, there will be a Leo-Aquarius Full moon.  Let me fill you in about the ramifications of said moon.


And now, I'll let you in on something a little more personal.  I'm an Aquarius, and guess what my rising sign is.  Yeppers, that would be Leo.  So I'm essentially taking a bubble bath in some of the most cosmically aligned potion you could ever imagine finding at Sephora.  And it must smell like violets and citrus and vetiver, and the water never changes from the perfect soaking temperature, and while I'm soaking, I'm being met by Samantha my spirit guide who takes me to a starry, glittering castle and opens a door to the upper most parapet and therein lies all the answers to all Universal queries ...

Alrighty then.  I'll flit back down to Earth and tell you that, in fact, as the Leo-Aquarius moon approaches, I'm going to attend the Ravinia festival tonight with my sweet hubby; this is an event we've been giddy about for months.  The piece which we'll be enveloped by this evening?  Gustav Holst's "The Planets", an orchestral suite inspired by the seven planets then known by Holst back in the mid 1910s.  The suite has seven movements, each named after a planet and its corresponding astrological character (Mars, the Bringer of War; Venus, the Bringer of Peace; Mercury, the Winged Messenger; Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity; Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age; Uranus, the Magician; and Neptune, the Mystic).

(This Mid-Century Mystic is filled with avarice over the costumes the folks are wearing in that vintage LP cover, let me tell you.)

As my airy Aquarian mind grasps to find a way to tie this blog rant all together, it finally decides to leave that up to you, dear reader.  I'll probably report back in a few days, after the cosmic cymbals crash in the sky and Leo roars and Aquarius blinks her eyes and thinks, "Wow.  Groovy." And the lion follows the path the water bearer's celestial river spills toward, in an ever-expanding search for full moon power and magic.
 

Monday is Tarot Day: Meditation on The Hermit.

So it's been a few weeks now since I took part in a life-changing experience, the Chopra Center's "Seduction of Spirit" retreat.  I've been a very good meditation student, having only missed one meditation session.  That was yesterday.  And I haven't exploded anything like that.  Not that I thought I would, but when you're really committing to a meditation practice, you feel pretty guilty if you miss a day.

Which is pretty much what meditation is NOT about.  It's about entering the silence, connecting with Universal or God energy, and about cultivating a healing place in your soul from which you can bring about positive change in the world.

Going within.  Not escaping, but retreating for 20-30 minutes, twice daily.  And, like the Hermit portrayed in this beautiful image from seewithin.wordpress.com, holding a gentle light up to your heart, to notice its connection with All  That Is, and to express it outward in our lives.

I love this card because it also brings to mind another type of meditation I enjoy: walking in nature.  It's quite easy, healthful, and healing.

No matter which form of meditation you choose, DO choose.  I believe we all need it - and all of us need all of us to practice it.

Namaste.

A little unexpected miracle at the book signing.

Last night, I was honored to give a lecture on my book, "The Cotton Candy Road Trip" at the Oak Park Arms, the wonderful retirement home my dad has lived at for the past 11 years.  I've seen him change, wane, grow, wane again, and blossom into the wisest, most charming soul while he's been living there.  Not that he wasn't always charming, but by virtue of the fact that he comes in contact with so many people there, and obviously affects them so powerfully and beautifully, his magnificent power is multiplied times infinity.

Anyway, the lecture and book signing.  After the audience had some wine and cheese, I took the stage, talked about how the book took shape, read a chapter from it (on Lakeside, one of my Top Five parks).

Vintage neon ride sign at Denver's Lakeside Park

 Then I opened up the room to questions, and the folks had some great ones:

"Are their parks like Riverview still around?"
"Do parks still install vintage merry-go-rounds?"
"What sort of admission fees do vintage parks have?"

One lady wanted to ask question after question; she decided to buy the book in the end because it excited her so much.  In fact, a lot of folks generously purchased copies, but that wasn't the unexpected miracle that occurred.

Back to Dad.  When his caregiver wheeled him into the Terrace Room (once THE fancy bar at the Arms, when it was a grand hotel), Dad really seemed out of it.  His eyes seemed dim and had little of their usual sparkle.  Wine and cheese were brought and when he eyed the red wine in the small plastic glass, he asked what it was.  This is not Dad; this is some other guy, I thought.  Red wine is his lifeblood, one of his passions.

If I said that my Dad's condition worried me a little last night, it would be a gross understatement.  My attention was really drawn more to him than my task at hand, the reason I was brought in that evening.  But I breathed, knew the caregiver would keep a close eye, as would Ben.  All would be well, right?

I lectured and read, and occasionally (okay, a LOT) glanced over at Dad, who either seemed like he was sleeping or just slipped away into the spaces where his dementia leads him.

After my talk and question session were over, I immediately sat down by Dad.

"Hey, Daddy.  Did you like that?  Did you enjoy my talk?"

Daddy glanced into my eyes, and he was no longer sleepy or fuzzy; he was present.

"Every single thing about it was spectacular.  You really know this and I am so proud of you."  

 And he smiled.

At that moment, my attention was drawn down to our little dog Ivy, who was being petted by one of the residents.  My eyes were drawn like magnets directly to the woman's hand.  Because it wasn't her hand, it was, without a doubt, my deceased Mom's frail, tissuey-yet-elegant hand that was petting our beagle (Mom loved dogs).  And then, all at once, it was the woman's hand and she continued stroking and scratching our pet.

Angels love to bring families together, even those who haven't been in the same space together for awhile.

It doesn't matter to me how many copies are sold of the book, nor how many people are touched, enlightened or inspired.  God will provide exactly what is needed in those avenues, of that I am completely sure.  I got all I needed last night, from both my parents, who were present and proud and loving every single spectacular thing.

Monday is Tarot Day. Wheel of Fortune and Law of Karma

I had a hard time figuring out what to write about today, after the horrible events of last week in Aurora, Colorado.  It pains me to no end when I think of the lives that have been shattered, of the pain and suffering one prison caused that shot out shock waves all over the world and will cause a ripple effect through the lives of so many people.  Frankly, it almost feels like attempting to connect a tarot card with the experience isn't fitting, or may come across as insensitive or lame or both.

The tragedy has so many layers of pain, of fear, that it's impossible to find a card that will, in any way, shed light on it.  I don't think there are enough cards in the deck to sum up how I'm feeling, how catastrophic this all is, how depressing it has become.

The Wheel of Fortune wasn't my first choice to write about in connection with Aurora.  But it doe fit in many aspects.  If you look at the Wheel as "luck", then, yes, one could say that some people had the horrible "luck" of being in the wrong place at the very wrong time.  And that millions of people, of course, weren't in that theatre, so their "luck" was "good".  You could say that.  But that's not what's hitting me.

I'd rather look at the card from the prospective of karma, or the Law of Cause and Effect. And I choose to not look at what occurred, but what can happen from this point on.  How this can be a springboard to a safer, more peaceful future.

The suspect armed himself with "civilian semi-automatic weapons".  Why any civilian needs an semi-automatic attack weapon is beyond me.  Do hunters take out guns like this, that can shoot off 50 to 60 rounds in one minute, to hunt deer or geese?  I'm guessing not.  No, ammo like this is used for one thing and one thing only, to kill and main, out of fear and anger.

So this is my prayer: this tragedy will cause our government to change gun laws and outlaw weapons such as these for civilians.  That this senseless, mind-numbing slaughter will cause an effective change in how we look at life and its preciousness and fragility.

What we all do NOW can cause a positive outcome in the future.  Cause and effect.

Amen.

There's no need for this.

There's no need for citizens to carry weapons.  No need.  Firearms should be legal only for police and the armed forces - that's it.

No one knows when someone who's absolutely in their right mind will snap.  No one knows when someone who is mentally ill will snap.  No one knows, so why have a right to put others at risk by something that is so tenuous?

Please, please.  This is the time for everyone, all walks of life, all political leanings, to come together for peace.  If not now, then when?  How many murders, how much more cataclysm?

Energetically, we're at a place where we can start making strides in the direction of love.  Or we can slip back in the other direction, but it's getting harder and harder for our world to spring back toward Light.

Now is the time.

Monday is Tarot day! Yesterday was the Law of Pure Potential

And yesterday was the last day of my Seduction of Spirit retreat through the Chopra Center.  I promise to give a better summary in the next few days, but I've been so booked up today with a visit to one of my book's parks, Santa's Village Azoosment Park, an interview with a Chicago Tribune staff writer while there, and a 1 1/2 hour-long voice-over job right.  Not to mention I'm still getting back into "real life" after being away from it for a week.  

Then tomorrow I start another audio book, plus I'll be interviewed by a writer for a local paper, the Elmhurst Independent.  And I have to figure out what I'll be talking about at a book signing this weekend.

Looking back on yesterday - and the Law of Pure Potential - I realized that I just yawned a deep, full-boy yawan and let go of any tension at all regarding my upcoming week.  I looked at the week from the standpoint of it brimming with potential, with "all good"ness.  Essentially, I packed my tote bag this morning with a few copies of my book to give away (as today is the Law of Giving and Receiving), threw in a Kashi bar for energy, filled up my water bottle, and boldly marched forth, like the gent at the left, who is the tarot embodiment of pure potential.  The Fool begins his journey and absolutely anything is possible.  He's not even numbered; the Fool is "zero".  It's Anything Can Happen Day everyday.

No, I wasn't wearing tights, nor was I considering jumping off an actual cliff, but I had the whole Fool card thing down to a "t".

Oh, except for the fact that Ivy wouldn't be able to accompany me.

Ivy, who is not too fond of cliffs.