Author Archives: perlib22

Y – Log Week 8!

February 25th

1 hour – Read Annie Sprinkle articles on ‘sex and breath’ and ‘orgasms’

1 hour – Read Bachelard

1 hour – Read Cunt by Inga Muscio

2 hours – Writing 7steps to delicate empiricism paper

.5 – Begin to outline presentation

1 hour – interview with Annie Sprinkle! and post interview notes

1.5 hours – Dance! 5rhythms practice, Deep embodiment under the full moon!

February 26th

1 hour – Working on Bibliography

1 hour – Reading Bachelard

2 hours – Reading about traditional indigenous birth ceremonies in Red Medicine.

2 hours – Writing 7 Steps of Delicate Empiricism

February 27th

2 hours – reading bachelard /writing reverie

4 hours – Good in bed/Good in birth: oxytocin, intimacy and the animal brain workshop

1 hour – herbal homework

February 28th

4 hours – writing 7 steps to delicate empiricism

3 hours – research and writing on anemia for herbal apprenticeship

March 1st

4 hours – Herbal Apprenticeship

1 hour – reading poems and stories on Yoni.com

1 hour – writing poetry

2 hours – editing seven steps to empiricism

1 hour – reading Phenomenology of Perception

March 2nd – Taking care of the body

3 hours – rendering fats for herbal salves! (herbal apprenticeship)

1 hour – Reading about Yarrow

March 3rd

4 hours – Writing paper

1 hour – Infusing fat with Yarrow for herbal apprenticeship homework

1 hour – filming and posting poetry observed piece

Hours This Week: 47

Total Hours: 167

Reading List:

  • The Secret Teachings of Plants
  • Phenomonology of Perception
  • The Laugh of the Medusa
  • Herbal Healing for Women
  • Cunt
  • The Poetics of Reverie

Y – Bachelard Reverie #4

“”all the fruits of the apple tree are rising suns,” […] “celebrate” the apple. ” -156

 

Claim your woman

Claim

flame, mane, fame, name, pain, frame, train, brain, drain, vein, rain, sane, crane,

Claim your sane insanity

and watch your wings grow

Flying flying in the whole, in the name of your reveries

Claim your wings, spread them along the winds of your reclaimed body

My woman body

My woman

builds log cabins that stretch along the seas of hills, like the depths of her insides,

Stretching like the depths of her roots, stretching like the body of her yoni.

My woman

listens to the trees surrounding her cabin,

Listening, surrendering to their wisdom

My woman

Expands and extends her will to the cottonwood stands,

As they give breath to the dissinigration of her knowing.

 

Craving the whole

Labyrinth of

Arousing her

Inner beaming

Moon body

 

Do not censor the body, do not sensor the speech

And do not sensor the breath

For when you censor, you take away your authenticity, your you, your whole.

Claim your whole,

claim your woman.

Claim

Y – Log Week 7!

February 18th

2 hours – This evening I was weaving, weaving the motions of my body towards acceptance of self. (dance) embodying my learning!

7 hours – Doula Training

1 hour – Reading Bachelard

February 19th

3 hours – Writing “holdredge paper” (research on etymology of Yoni)

2 hours – reading Bachelard

February 20th

2 hours  – reading buhner/bachelard

2 hours – writing

2 hours – Art piece, conversion/conversation between Buhner and Cixous

February 21st

3 hours – reading (Cixous/Womens Ways of Knowing)

1 hour – Plant Profile art (Cottonwood!)

1 hour – writing

February 22nd

4 hours – Herbal Apprenticeship (Cottonwood, cardiovascular herbs, medicine making)

2 hours – Reading (Buhner) and Writing Poetry

(Got an Interview sent back!)

February 23rd

1 hour – reading

1 hour – writing (poems)

1 hour – nature walk/photos (what it must feel like to be on a dandelion in the summer breeze)

3 hours – Working on paper

February 24th

1 hour – Reading short stories from The Sweet Breathing of Plants

Total Hours:

This Week : 39 hours

Accumulative: 120

Readings:

  •  The poetics of reverie
  •  The secret teachings of plants
  •  Womens Anatomy of Arousal
  •  Womens Ways of Knowing
  • The Laugh of the Medusa

Y – poem (our secret language)


Layers

are opening

as my mouth is circled around your nipple

and you gaze into me.

 

We have only just finished a long endeavor, as

together we surrender to the exhaustion,

as our bones turn to liquid our brains come in sync with the knowing that this moment,

This moment marks the very beginning of a new journey.

 

As the layers that make you up

open and allow me to move through,

the layers in around my eyes,

slowly prepare,

allowing me to open to the light:

Through your speaking layers.

 

First I remember the sounds you made,

Those primal ones that still shake my veins awake

still open my hearts gate

flooding me with adoration for your strength.

 

we were both swollen and exhausted

with joy,

our bones, cleaned of the experience

as our minds embraced and curled in around each others bodies.

 

That language

only we have ever spoken

together.

 

 

Y – Bachelard Reverie #3

“These memories of odors from the past are recovered by closing our eyes.” (136)

I had sensitive eyes.

I closed them when she cooked.

There were always lots of deep smells coming from our tiny kitchens,

smells like cheese, grilllled

smells of peas, soup I never enjoyed

smells of tomatoes, roasted by the sun, roasted by her pans

smells that got in my eyes and would push me out the door, begging for crisp air

air that soothed my eyes, relief from the oil that thickly smoked, filling our rooms, our clothes.

The payoff was always sweet, sopapillas drizzled in warm honey, mmm

bringing home the taste of trips to new mexico for time with grandpa.

Once they caused a fire,

the kitchen lit up like the orange summer sky

my heart jumped out of my throat,

my eyes lit up with fear

grabbed the baby and raced my young feet out the back door.

we laughed afterward for hours, on the warm concrete, swimming in the story.

Our sweet home sopapilla fire, catching the eye of our hearts.

 

I am re-introduced to the memories of my ethnicity when i close my eyes to the thought of the smokey oil wafting into my bedroom, belly warmed by the thought of mom in the kitchen, preparing our favorite foods.

This universe of warmth is forgotton, fogged by time, by distance. Becoming weaker and weaker is my voice, is my connection to this warmth.  But forever am I awoken by the smells of southwestern food when I close my eyes.  Finding a world of intensity melding into warmth, melding into happy bellies, melding into fire, melding into laughter with loved ones.

Home

y – poem (universes)

my mind is like the galaxy.

deep and dark, mysterious. thoughts floating around for eons, lost astroids.

the ah-ha! moments hit me like a meteor hits the earth – suddenly, with expansion of wonder and exploration of unknown methods

forever leaving an indent in my being, in my earth.

 

I repeated it aloud over and over again in the warm bath water

Yoni, yOni, yoNi, yonI….

each time required a new expansion of breath.

Outward.

creativity,                  meeting the slowly wafting waves, originated by My lungs.

by My hand, the book is raised to meet my Eye, reading the meaning: yoni, ‘Entrance to the Universe’

pondering this.

 

Exploration

the creative touch brings breaths, brings moans, brings warm wet places to the surface of our union, from the depths of my internal universe. then,

the granted entry into my universe, my yoni.  private, unique, my pear, picked to perfection, to consume, to renew, to build, to drip the juice of life.  this is one entrance to the universe, my universe.

and when this universe is entered, my yoni likes to speak, to be loud, to laugh, to moan, to scream, to expand and expel the tension that grew and grew all fucking day.

hello, creative expression.

 

Expansion

your growth, nourishment, brings expansion of my belly.  into a globular, hanging universe made just for you. tripping over my breath to keep up with you, staying focused, feeding you, feeding me. then,

descending. waves of intensity wash me to shore, swallow me and lay me back down on the sand again, repeat. repeat. repeat. trying to replenish my lungs enough to keep up with your

grand ascending.  this is one entrance to the universe, our universe.

and when this universe is entered, my yoni likes to be heard, to listen, to teach, to moan, to cry, to contract and to expel the tension that grew and grew all fucking 41 weeks.

hello, creative expression.

 

Breathing, breathing, inward, outward.

my body is a portal, a sacred portal of universes rich with coming and going.

mysterious and deep,

my yoni is like the galaxy,

ripe with the unknown,

with wonder.

 

 

 

 

 

Y – Week 6 Log!

February 11th

1 hour – Writing up Questions for interviews

2 hours – Free write (Holdridge paper)

1 hour – Reading (Sacred Sexuality)

1 hour – poetry!

2 hours – Yoga Nidra/writing workshop with Sophia

February 12th

2 hours – Reading

February 13th

2 hours – Kallari Cacao presentation/tasting!

1 hour – White Pine Research

3 hours – Bachelard / Reverie

2 hours – Workshop on Consent/Safe Kink

February 14th

4 hours – reading (Merleau-Ponty and Weed)

3 1/2 hours – Art piece on Herbs for Pregnancy – research as well

February 15th

5 hours – Herbal apprenticeship (herbs for women’s health and harvesting cottonwood buds!)

1 hour – Cedar weaving workshop in longhouse

February 16th

1 1/2 hours – Vagina Monologues!

2 hours – reading (Yoni)

2 hours – Writing (sky, venus, passing of winter)

February 17th

7 hours – Doula Training with The Prison Doula Project

Totals

This week:  43 hours

Cumulative total:  80 hours

Readings for Week 6:

  • The Encyclopedia of Sacred Sexuality
  • The Poetics of Reverie
  • The Phenomenology of Perception
  • Wise Woman Herbal for the Childbearing Years
  • The Yoni: Sacred Symbol of Feminine Creative Power

Y – Bachelard Reverie #2

(Here I am trying to convey the difference between being awake with my passion ie. reverie, vs being asleep with my passion ie. dream. They – the animus and anima – mingle and mesh and become woven in my mind and body.)

“In the background, down in the depths, way down in the depths, the novelist was well aware that human nature was weaving possibilities of union – ” (87)

 

DEPTHS.

I am dipping my heart into the hardness that the rocks of my dreams pull up, they are snapping the quiet surface with the cracking sounds of bones.

Wake up.

There are rocking orgasms present

and this drives my delicate thoughts of the sacred

Venus body.

Here, I am safe. I can Be from a place of knowing. stroking the softness of her skin, asking her questions and recalling memories of days birthed.

Here, I am awake. I can experience the velvet breaths and breasts of holy nourishment.

I am Sustained widely.

Sleep.

Deep deep deep, I fall into a spinning wave of lava

I must engage the fiery depths of your lips sweet one, I must enfold the embrace.

tails, tales, and dreams of the future: the courageous hope that drives and directs my waking

Venus body.

Rocks emerge forth, with sharp edges and prominent lines, that fold gracefully into the crevices, yet leave marks of eternity.

I am Sustained with depth.

 

I am driven, lulled, by the depth, by the power in edges, and in curves. I am dripping in a whole world of dreams and of reveries for the yoni. The Venus body continues to sail within the waves of eternity, silently ringing deep in my womb. She wholly rings in me and screams yes!

 

Y – poem (volcano)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Debris

Lately, I am a volcano. I listen, I stand, patiently. Yet I am bubbling and boiling deep inside, waiting to be heard.

volcano

vagina

 

volcanic eruption

vaginal expulsion

 

explosion-

of darkness?

of debris?

but what is debris but bits of substance left over, scattered?-

evidence that something has broken free, fragments of wreckage?

but today I value broken.

I find solace in letting loose something that no longer has a place,

I find acceptance of needing to break, to become anew.

 

I toil, holding onto the thread

the thread that weaves newness every time I have the chance – to swim in the earthliness of the dark.

I am careful to always pick it back up if within the darkness I lose hold.

 

I spew ravage, I spew chaos and fire and out of control feelings so I

can

build beauty back

up each time.

 

it is so refreshing to think of the volcano.  One must go deeper, past the depression, compression, to that lowest point where only the truest form of joy can be found, found among the firey depths of the volcano.

You must get to the deepest point of heat and darkness to know, to gain the momentum needed to explode out with full force

grab your thread on the way!

Once you have reached the highest point possible, the only way to go is out – so you expand, far more vast then you thought, and you make a mess of things, but this is good.

This reminds more then yourself – it reminds the other- of the trueness that comes from hitting the deepest point, of the “destruction” that comes after the most rumbling, rocking, deep point we’ve all, ever known.

You hit the bottom and flow back up, the mess is not the debris, the debris is the result of realness oozing out despite the aftermath, despite the “consequences”,  this is truth.  but only you know this.

Together we pick up the debris,

blooming beauty

and this is where community starts, in the cleaning of the spewed wreckage, handling the debris, weaving the destruction.  This is joy.

Y – Week 5 Log!

February 4th

3 hours – reading

1 1/2 hours – research on plants for women’s health

2 hours – Wrote Mid-Quarter Eval

February 5th

4 hours – reading (not knowing notebook)
2 hour – journaling – on how I care for myself during “moon time” and Women’s health herbs

2 hours – Bachelard Reverie #1

30 minutes – Met with Sarah for Mid-quarter eval

February 6th

1 hour – Online research, Annie Sprinkle, Orgasms.

1 hour – Emailed Midwives and Sex educators about online interviews

1 hour – Moon Cycle Care Paper for Herbal Apprenticeship

February 7th

3 hours – reading

2 hours – writing an elixir recipe for liver support during moon cycle. Making herbal iron syrup.

1 hour – poetry in response to Helene cixous’ Laugh of the Medusa

February 8th

5 hours – herbal apprenticeship, focus on women’s herbs for health!

3 hours – Michael Meade lecture / Writing about the importance of Poetic expression. (Amazing!)

February 9th

2 hours- reading – Fertility Awareness / 5Rhythms

February 10th

2 hours – Grand Illusions Theater to see Birth Story: a documentary about midwives.

2 hours – reading – prose on volcanoes

Totals

This week:  37 hours

Cumulative total:  37 hours

Reading List:

  • Women’s Anatomy of Arousal
  • The Secret Teachings of Plants
  • The Poetics of Reverie
  • The Female Brain
  • Ina May Gaskins Guide to Childbirth
  • The Laugh of Medusa
  • Maps to Ecstasy
  • Honoring Our Cycles