bloodteethandflame

A life in threes

Category: Uncategorized

Breakfast in America.

On my way to the supermarket, I noticed this sign:

dennyssign

It got me to wondering.  What if this sign meant what I’d initially thought that it had meant, and Denny’s had suddenly wanted to appeal to linguist nerds?

How long do you think that it’s going to be before Denny’s puts out a menu in Classical Greek?

Or how about ancient Hebrew?

Gaelic?

Or best yet, Proto-Indo-European?

That’s what I want to see:  a Denny’s menu in PIE.

Or, at the very least, a dessert menu.

 

Linguists don’t make much money, but linguists gotta eat.

The Impending Lesson.

So.

Here I am with things on my mind, and I’m feeling ashamed and ridiculous that I’ve allowed the situation in my life to come to this point.

I’ve no one but my self to blame, I know, and occurs to me that…maybe… what is about to happen to me is a lesson.   A lesson for me.  A lesson for my husband, V.   And, by association, my youngest kid.

And it is coming.

 

Runes.

This post has been knocking about my brain for a few weeks, perhaps more. 

I’ve been having difficulty writing in this blog lately, and I’m not exactly sure why. 

I have no shortage of topics, actually, it’s just that once I sit down and start typing, things seem to go awry from there.

But I’m determined to write about my adventures learning about (Futhark) runes lately, because, dammit, I’ve been trying to learn about runes for a long time.

So here it goes.

~~~

I’m ashamed to admit that I bought a set of runes about six months ago. 

I’d initially ordered a set from a Norse shaman/craftsman around April or so, but after a few months, I received word from him that things weren’t going well.  The tree branches that he’d been intending to cut the blanks from kept coming up cracked and/or damaged, and therefore, the wood supply wasn’t any good for cutting blanks for a rune set.

I should’ve taken that as a sign that maybe this wasn’t the right time for me to learn about runes, but I’m an impatient sort of person, and I thought, well, I’d like to get a set to hold me over.

So I did this past June.

And when I took them out from the bag, I was immediately…depressed, for reasons that I’m not going to get into right now.  But I did what I had been told/read/seen that I was supposed to do next upon receipt of runes.  And everything seemed OK. 

Three different sources gave me an overview of different ways that one can ‘get to know’ the runes once they are in ones’ hands. 

One source said to say their names aloud, study them, meditate on each one, and that was that. 

One source said that I should sleep on them — one at a time — and write out the resulting dreams.

And another source said that the other two ways were fine, but the best way would be to do a ritual with them – involving fluids – that I’m still trying to sort out, because there’s debate on which fluids are best.

I don’t want anyone to think that I don’t take this seriously, because I do…  

But I will say this, it strikes me as very true that runes are interesting, and I’ve been having some very interesting times with the runes.

First, Laguz gave me some very interesting dreams way back in August.  Some of the ink came off of my Laguz rune when it got wet during that week when I first focused on it.  Somehow I wonder if that was, in some way, appropriate.

And the Ingwaz rune made for some very tasty baked goods, and an interesting time concerning yard work, physical work, and growth during the week that I first focused on it.

And then, Othala.  I would like to say that Othala upright is my favorite rune.  I’ve felt drawn to it the minute that I first saw it — but what Othala ended up being was a rather forceful representation of a few things that I *really* need to work on.   No matter which way I see Othala interpreted, it always seems to come up to remind me of things that I should work on, especially when I’d rather not.   Othala, I love you, but you can be a lot to take.

Kenaz is another favorite.  Kenaz, like Othala, could generate its own post, with all my feels about it.

Dagaz and Mannaz were tricky…as were Sowilo and Eiwhaz.  Just when I thought I was certain that that was the rune that I was seeing, I’d realize that it was actually another rune entirely.  Or maybe those four like to shape-change when I’m not looking. 

Fehu.  Fehu, no pun intended, is what started it all.   Because, if I never mentioned this, there is a mark on my bedroom door, that looks basically like Fehu.  I think that it has been here since the day that we moved in, almost 3 years ago.

But then again, there’s another person that lives in this house that thinks that it looks more like Ansuz.

And no, I haven’t focused on Ansuz yet, so I don’t want to speculate.  

Month for Odin: Post missing.

The other day I wrote a post to open up the month of November as a month for Odin.

And now the post is missing.  It’s not even listed as a Draft in my Dashboard here…which is fucking strange, to say the least.

 

Did anyone see it before it disappeared?

Let me know.

Thanks!

A drawing of Loki

This is a drawing that I did several months ago that I have been meaning to post.

 

Today is as good a day as any, I suppose.

Crazy, but in an interesting and innovative way

cra·zy (krz)

adj. cra·zi·er, cra·zi·est

1. Affected with madness; insane.
2. Informal Departing from proportion or moderation, especially:

a. Possessed by enthusiasm or excitement
b. Immoderately fond; infatuated
c. Intensely involved or preoccupied
d. Foolish or impractical; senseless

 

Someone once said that to follow the path that others have laid before you is a very reasonable course of action, therefore all progress is made by unreasonable men.

— Adam Savage, American industrial/special effects designer, actor, educator, and host of Discovery Channel’s MythBusters

I wanted to be crazy, and I advise you to be crazy. To be weird. To be unreasonable. That’s my favorite one. People are always saying, “Oh, come on, be reasonable!” And I want to shout, “No! I don’t want to be reasonable!” I want to be completely unreasonable. I want to change the world. I want to change the world creatively. And I want other people to be unreasonable with me.

— Matt Goldman, American record producer, engineer, mixer, and songwriter

Earworm

This song is stuck in my head:

http://youtu.be/S9MYXr9gY5U

And no matter how many other songs that I listen to, it just won’t budge.

I don’t know if it’s stuck because it makes me think of my girlfriend, J, our upcoming weekend (Sept 14-17th), and my various small anxieties about that…or if it’s some other thing that the Universe could be nudging me to think about.

Either way…

I don’t want to look like some kind of fool

I don’t wanna break my heart over you…

I’m building a wall, every day it’s getting higher

This time, I won’t end up another

Victim of Love…

.

Wolf/mother

On Friday, I went to the mailbox, and found that V had ordered me a gift.

I wasn’t expecting it.

My newest piece of jewelry

V says that when he saw this anklet on display, he thought of me, and he thought that I should have it.  He also claims that it seemed to be the only one that they had that struck him this way.  (Which is odd, since I don’t wear a heckuva lot of jewelry, so neither of us are prone to buying jewelry very often.)

It’s sterling silver, and V tells me that the beads are amber.

Personally, that would be interesting, but that’s not what surprised me about his unexpected gift of jewelry to me: it’s the wolf that surprises me.

V said that other anklets had dolphin, flower, or bird charms, or, barring that — more beading — but that this one was the only one that had a wolf.

And it was the last, perhaps, only one.

So he bought it, and had it mailed to the house.

So, I put it on, and I find that I can’t stop thinking about wolves, and especially about exactly why he’d been drawn to pick the wolf.

I mean, if he’d chosen something with a bird charm (perhaps something raven or sparrow like), *that* would make a lot more sense to me, because I’m always thinking and talking about crows and ravens…or the fact that we’ve had a few interesting interactions with birds lately…

But a wolf?

I was puzzled and a bit surprised, because I don’t talk about wolves at all nearly as much as I’d talk about birds or horses…and yet, it’s not as if I don’t like wolves.  I do.

More so, and here’s the interesting part:  it’s not as if I hadn’t been thinking of wolves lately, it’s just that those thoughts weren’t something I was sharing with V.  (A few days before, I had shared a text with Heather S that described a strange dream that I had in 1997…but I’d never told V about the wolves in the dream; just that I shared a text of it with Heather.)

And yet, there it was.

He couldn’t explain it either.

So, first, I thought, as I had done this before, that the wolf might have attracted V because it was his attempt to find something ‘Morrighan-like’ or ‘Freyja-ish’  because we had been talking a few days before about how I’d thought of the Morrighan as my patron goddess for years, but it wasn’t because it was maybe, possibly Freyja…but even then, he would know that a bird would have been the more appropriate choice for either of those two with the options that he’d described as being in front of him.  (Though he also knows that Freyja likes cats, too.)

He did admit on the Freyja note, that he did like — and thought that I would  like –that it had amber.  But that was secondary to his attraction to it.

So, then I thought that he’d picked it because it was ‘different’ or ‘only’ or some such, but he did admit that the amber was the only thing that had any connection with his thoughts about my spirituality.

So, not the wolf, the amber.  But there were other ones with amber, he said.

But still, a wolf.

I then told him about Loki’s wife/consort, Angrboda – whom he admitted that he’d never heard of before — and I even showed him the simple (and I think I find somewhat oddly adorable) picture of Angrboda from K’s D’Aulaire’s Norse Myths, to help him out with a visualization of Her, but he shrugs.

Does she have something to do with wolves? he asked.

To which I replied, Well, They had a kid who was a wolf… and I pointed him to D’Aulaire’s toothy grey blobbish rendition of the Fenris-puppy.

He shrugged.

To which K helpfully added, See, Dad?  She’s a wolf-mother!

And now, so are you, K giggled at me.  You’re a mom…with a wolf!

Great band, V grins.

~~~

Do you like it?, V asks.

I nod.

So I hope that you’ll think of me when you look at it, V said.

And think of me too, blurted K, just wanting to be involved in the conversation.

~~~

But then, there’s today…

And things have been grumpy and difficult.

So, the only thing that I can think of when I look at the anklet today is that it is a reminder that when things get rough…

This mother gets thrown to the wolves.

Honestly, I am almost ashamed to admit that I didn’t know what ‘fracking’ was!
But this is important stuff, especially if you care about the environment and finding alternative energy resources for our future. Thanks!

A Strange Dream

(Actually written 22 June 2012 in my personal [read: paper notebook] journal)

Once we arrived at the campsite, we were tired, but we didn’t lay down until very late in the evening.

So I was laying there, thinking about how devoutly I wished that sleep would come.

Then, I began thinking about how out of touch I felt with spiritual things.

I found myself wishing again, that I could talk to the gods in my dreams.

I wanted an explanation of sorts; I wanted something to explain as to whether or not…I was being noticed(?)

Something tense, sad, and dark was bubbling up within me, within my thoughts.

And so began a seemingly mundane dream, interspersed with wildly shifting images, shapes and faces, concepts and colors.  These then became rapidly cycling mental impressions and imagery of my siblings and parents, and I looked around to find myself sitting by myself at a Formica table, in a mostly empty diner.  What I saw around me seemed something out of Hemingway’s short story, A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.

The atmosphere struck me as both peaceful and yet a little bit melancholy, as I was surrounded by muted voices from people with drawn, insomniac faces, lit under bright, flourescent lighting.

And then it came: Like a narrative voice-over in a movie scene, a young boy’s voice rang out clear in my head, loud and close to my ear, and he said:

Even though my Father doesn’t mind (doesn’t like?*) you talking to him, I think that you should know that…you have a spider on your face!

The boy’s voice sounded caught, breathless, as if the presence of the spider was a sudden and unexpected interruption, and he’d actually meant to tell me something else entirely; there was something meaningful that he’d come to explain…

But I suddenly awoke, my face tingling, to find myself swatting from my face an actual spider.

It was a little grey spider, with bright red points on its legs and back, and I’ve no doubt that it actually had been crawling on my face.

I watched as the spider skittered away over the rumpled sheets, disappear over the edge of the mattress, and unto the ground.

The spider was real.

And I am left wondering, now.

Who is the boy?  And more importantly, who is his father?

~~~

* The boy’s voice, though rather loud, seemed to swallow a word there, and I couldn’t tell if he said ‘mind’ or if he said ‘like.’

It bothers me, as that particular word in that sentence seems to be the most important word of all to have understood in order to understand the overall meaning of the sentence, in my opinion.

Part of me wants to believe that it was mind and not like, simply because, whomever it may be that the boy was referring to, it hurts my ego to think that “(his) Father” is bothered by my talking to him!

*sigh*