music | bloodteethandflame

Sunshine Blogger Award

Thanks Amber who nominated me for this award!

Here are the questions from Amber:

What drew you to blogging?

I have been keeping a journal – in notebook form – since I was 8 years old. (As a matter of fact, I still do write in my notebook journal nearly every day.)

In 2002, I began blogging at LiveJournal and the now-defunct OpenDiary in an attempt to keep in touch with friends that I’d made in various online (and offline) Pagan and kink communities.

How did you meet Loki?

This is a difficult question to answer, as it depends on how one would define ‘meeting’ Loki.

I’ve known of Loki since I was a kid, mostly due to the combination of my interests in reading world mythology, cultural lore, fairy tales and comic books.

As well, as I’ve written before, I had an imaginary/invisible friend as a child who ‘left’ me around age 9 or so. Then I started writing – keeping a daily journal/diary, as well as writing short stories that featured several characters. Then, around age 12, I also started drawing in an attempt to illustrate some of these stories, and there was a particular man whose face I drew a lot.

It isn’t a far stretch for me to admit that that man had been my childhood ‘invisible friend.’

But I didn’t think of my invisible friend again, until the spring of 2008, when my younger son became severely ill, and was in and out of the hospital for several months. Though my son was hardly ever alone (besides that my husband and I took turns staying overnights with him throughout each hospital stay), my 5-year-old son told me in April 2008 that a tall, friendly man would come to visit him in the hospital, and that once, the man brought his wife and two sons. The first time that my son described this man – how he looked, what clothes he wore, even the way that he talked – I could not help but admit that this man seemed a lot like the ‘invisible friend’ that I’d had until age 9. But I didn’t think that it could be possible. (I am still not certain if these were dreams my son had had or if these visits were brief waking-visions, but after the third visitation, my son informed me that this man had told him to tell me that of course (he) knows me because (he) was my friend a long time ago. O.o)

And I still didn’t want to admit that that could have been Loki.

That is, until mid-2011, when Loki began to visit my dreams, and actually identified Himself as such.

~~~

So, take of the above ^ as you will.

You could say that I met Loki when I was a young child.

Or you could say that I didn’t really know it was Him until 2008.

Or you could say that I didn’t want to admit that it was Him until He insisted on (re) introducing Himself to me in 2011.

How long have you been with Loki?

(See above.)

Since I was a kid, but I wasn’t really pushed to put it all together until 2011.

And even then, I didn’t officially dedicate an altar to Him until April 2012.

So what is that 3 years -4 years – officially?

Or should I say what He would likely say: Forever, Heathir ❤

Do you interact with other gods than Loki? Who?

In 1997, I began to identify myself as a Celtic Pagan. I had been studying the Celtic pantheon for a long time before, and I decided to dedicate a lot of my practice/devotion to the Morrighan, believing Her to be my patron Goddess.

But for some reason, things began to change around 2010 or so. I had begun working on writing a book about the Morrighan, simply because I’d been studying Her in lore for years and there wasn’t a lot of discussion of Her at that time. And though I couldn’t figure out why, the more that I attempted to gather information on the Morrighan, the more disconnected from Her I felt.

So, in February 2012 I received a divination that pointed me in the direction of Freyja, rather than the Morrighan.

For this reason, I have always had a permanent altar for Freyja ever since. (Not surprisingly, both Loki and Freyja have interacted with me in an extension of that same sovereignty work that I’d attempted to do with the Morrighan years before.)

As well, before officially dedicating to Loki in 2014, I had had interactions with Dionysus, Baphomet, and Cernunnos. (Dionysus still shows up once in a while, but I’ve never maintained a permanent space for Him.)

I also offer to Freyr and Odin at times, and I maintain an altar for Hela.

Your favourite way to relax and unwind?

I have no set favorite way to unwind.

I like to walk in the woods.

I meditate.

I write.

I draw.

I like to crochet and do embroidery, as well.

Name one place you’ve never been but would love to visit.

Iceland.

What kind of music do you like?

I love all sorts of music. I can and do enjoy listening to all different genres of music. I don’t have a favorite genre, but in terms of radio stations, you’ll find me listening to alternative rock, such as what would be found on DC 101 when I’m in the car.

What kind of books do you like?

Like music, I don’t have a favorite kind of book. I’ve been reading a lot of mythology and cultural history lately, but I like a well-written suspenseful story no matter what the genre. I also love reading anthologies of short fiction and poetry.

What’s your favourite song, and why?

As I’ve said above re:music, I don’t favor any particular genre of music, so I could not ever hope to choose a definitive ‘favorite song.’

But I can tell you that I have had Chris Cornell’s ‘Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart’ as an earworm for over a week now. When I’m not humming that song, lately, it has been either Cold War Kids’ ‘First’ or Coleman Hell’s ‘Two Heads.’

Cats or dogs?

While I have no problem with cats – I suppose that I like them well enough as I have three of them living with me right now – I consider myself slightly more of a ‘dog’ person.

Tea or coffee?

Both. I used to drink tea exclusively, but when I started to suffer from kidney stones, my doctor suggested that I should switch to drinking coffee instead. So I drink 1 or 2 cups of coffee a day as a replacement for all that tea that I used to drink, but I still enjoy a good cup of hot spiced chai once in a while, or a tall glass of sweet iced tea.

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October 20, 2015

Yesterday

I hemmed and hawed about writing this post, as yesterday was a meaningful date in my personal history.

On the evening of Friday, 19 October 2007, my father died.

I would not find out about until the next day – Saturday – as my mother called me almost 8 hours later, leaving a four-word message on the home answering machine, to inform me that my father had passed.

My husband, my sons, and I had returned from a local skate tournament to see that little flashing light notifying us of an incoming call that we had received earlier that afternoon from an unfamiliar number.

I had been estranged from my parents for several years at that point. To put it bluntly, my mother had ‘disowned’ me in 2005 over something so incredibly petty that I am ashamed to admit now that I honored her wishes for nearly 2 years. And, unfortunately, my father did, too.

But I remember that last conversation that I’d had with my father in early October 2005.

Cancer had returned – malignant melanoma – but my father had insisted that it wasn’t such a big deal.

We danced around the subject of the impending surgery that would require the loss of his right eye, and, in typical form, my father joked about his options upon coming to terms with the reality that he’d probably have to wear an eyepatch.

He insisted that he couldn’t decide if he should tell people that he’d become a pirate, or if he should tell people that he’d given his eye to Odin, for knowledge.

I didn’t know what to say; I was just pleased to be speaking to my father, and I told him that I would be delighted to support him in either choice. In a roundabout way, I was trying to comfort him, but honestly, I would have agreed to support him in any way that I could, even if most of the time my support of him simply required that I cheerfully go along with his jokes.

That was my father. That’s the way that he coped best with adversity – through joking about it.

Though I didn’t want to discuss our own adversity — that elephant in the room — concerning how he missed me, and how he hoped that my mother and I ‘could somehow work things out’ so that he would be ‘allowed to talk to [me] again.’

I was inwardly furious that he felt like he had to sneak around – while my mother was not home – just to talk to me. (Of course, I was too stubborn to look the other way concerning my mother’s obviously toxic and controlling behavior. I was well aware of what a rare occurrence it was that my mother was not at home.)

Despite this, I truly thought that my father and I would speak again.

But we didn’t.

After my father died, my brother told me that the cancer had spread rather fast – but my father was overly proud man and it surprised no one that my father insisted on downplaying the debilitating effects on his quality of life – but as a result, my father refused to allow anyone to contact me concerning this reality.

I’ve no doubt that my father thought that he’d live forever, as long as he could joke about it, but he told my brother that he was even more ashamed to be seen as sickly or frail by anyone, let alone, his daughters.

Please let them remember me the way that I was was what I was told that he had said.

It turned out that my older sister -who was also estranged, also ‘disowned’ by my mother – didn’t even know that he’d died until two months after the funeral. While I am grateful that at least I had been informed in time to actually attend his funeral, I’m ashamed to admit that I was told that she knew but that she just didn’t show.

I regret that I didn’t question that further.

~~~

But, my dysfunctional family aside, I miss my father dearly, even now, even today, eight years later.

So what do I do to honor my father?

I will hold a ‘silent supper’ for him this week, wherein I provide him offerings of his favorite foods. Steak and potatoes. Blueberry pie. Sardines. Figs.

As well, it is likely that I will go to McDonald’s today. I will order – and mindfully consume – a Big Mac and a strawberry milkshake. It was the meal that my father loved, the ‘last meal’ that I was told that my father would often insist that he wanted – and then insist upon eating – even though I’d imagine that his body could scarcely have handled digesting such ‘junk food’ towards the end of his life. (Though that wouldn’t have deterred him, however.)

But I will enjoy it, as he would have wanted to enjoy it. (I mean, what the hell, I can imagine him arguing, I’m dying. I don’t worry about nutrition now. Fuck that. I want McDonald’s.)

As well, I have a playlist of his favorite songs that I will allow myself to listen to, and it is very likely that I will have a good cry over this one:

Perhaps I will read him Philip Levine’s poem, ‘Starlight’

(This is the poet, Philip Levine, reading ‘Starlight’)

~~~

This is a photo-booth photo of my father and I from 1974ish or so.

It is one of my favorite photos that I have of my father.

This is a photo of a self-portrait that my father painted in early 2007.

~~~

I miss you.

I love you, Dad.

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October 12, 2015

A small reminder.

I was walking my dog this morning, and I was thinking about Mr. L, and this little bit o’pandoramancy came up:

(Though, if I had to pinpoint it, I’d say that this is more what I would say to Him; not the other way ’round; but the point is taken <3)

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July 19, 2015

Month for Loki, Day 18: Another song.

Here is another song that I associate with Loki:

And, in case that it isn’t obvious, the rapped verses – performed by Del Tha Funkee Homosapien* – are the parts that certainly evoke Loki for me.

Here are the lyrics:

Yeah… Ha Ha!
Finally someone let me out of my cage
Now, time for me is nothing cause I’m counting no age
Now I couldn’t be there
Now you shouldn’t be scared
I’m good at repairs
And I’m under each snare
Intangible
Bet you didn’t think so I command you to
Panoramic view
Look I’ll make it all manageable
Pick and choose
Sit and lose
All you different crews
Chicks and dudes
Who you think is really kickin’ tunes?
Picture you gettin’ down in a picture tube
Like you lit the fuse
You think it’s fictional?
Mystical? Maybe.
Spiritual
Hero who appears in you to clear your view when you’re too crazy
Lifeless
To those the definition for what life is
Priceless
To you because I put you on the high shit
You like it?
Gun smokin’ righteous with one toke
You’re psychic among those
Possess you with one go

The essence the basics
Without did you make it
Allow me to make this
Child-like in nature
Rhythm
You have it or you don’t that’s a fallacy
I’m in them
Every sprouting tree
Every child of peace
Every cloud and sea
You see with your eyes
I see destruction and demise (that’s right)
Corruption in disguise
From this fuckin’ enterprise
Now I’m sucked into your lies
Through Russel, not his muscles but percussion he provides
For me as a guide
Y’all can see me now ’cause you don’t see with your eye
You perceive with your mind
That’s the inner
So I’mma stick around with Russ and be a mentor
Bust a few rhymes so motherfuckers remember where the thought is
I brought all this
So you can survive when law is lawless (right here)
Feelings, sensations that you thought was dead
No squealing, remember that it’s all in your head

I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I’m useless but not for long
The future is coming on
I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I’m useless but not for long
My future is coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
My future is coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
My future is coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
My future is coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
My future is coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
My future is coming on
It’s coming on
It’s coming on
My future

~~~

*No, no, no. Not that Del – though, he is a rather clever individual in his own right 😉

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July 12, 2015

Month for Loki, Day 12: Song

This song comes up a lot on my playlist.

Don’t ask me why; it just does.

I don’t know so much about the message, but I certainly love their accents.

*swoon*

Hail to Loki, my Heart and Soul ❤

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May 8, 2015

Tangled Up in Blue

Concerning Petrarch, poetry, and a question from a reader:

I read a lot of poetry, and I listen to a lot of music.

Often these two habits will intersect in my life in strange and delightful ways, especially where and when my Gods are involved.

One particular song that I have always loved is Bob Dylan’s Tangled Up in Blue.

And I came to love it even more when the Indigo Girls released their cover of that song on their live album, 1200 Curfews, in 1995.

As you may or may not know, it was not until 1997 or so that I started getting specific spiritual nudges again. And sufficed to say, this song came up a lot on the radio at that time, and as a result, I heard the Indigo Girls’ cover several times a day.

But as much as I knew the lyrics, there was one particular verse that always baffled me, however.

This one:

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
“I thought you’d never say hello” she said
“You look like the silent type”
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burning coal
Pouring off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you
Tangled up in blue.

All I could think of was…what sort of words were those? And even more so, who wrote them?

I mean, as a person who loves poetry, I could absolutely agree that poetry, in all its forms, is the highest form of word-alchemy.

As well, I would be the first to agree that good poetry certainly can and does transcend time.

But I had to, absolutely had to… find out who was that ‘Italian poet from the thirteenth century’?

And no, I don’t think that anybody really knows.

As far as I can tell, Bob Dylan has never identified any particular poet as being the poet that he references…so I began to wonder if Dylan was just simply trying to convey some universally profound fact about love and human relationships, as well as something similar to what I just wrote up there about poetry being word-alchemy.

~~~

Cut to three years ago, I was in a large retail bookstore chain, just browsing, as I often do.

If you must know, I wasn’t even in the poetry section. Because, as much as I love poetry, I hardly ever buy books of it.

So it was more than likely that I’d been skimming a Kingdom Hearts graphic novel with my kid, or trying to choose between two or three sci-fi/fantasy anthologies, or whatever, when ‘Tangled Up in Blue’ came up on the in-store music system.

I remember looking up from the book that I had been browsing, to see that someone had left a copy of Petrarchian love sonnets on the floor.

…and that exact verse – with line about an Italian poet from the thirteenth century – was the verse that was playing when I noticed that book on the floor.

And no, I didn’t buy the book. I brought it back to the poetry section and left it there.

If I bought anything, I probably purchased an anthology of short horror stories and a comic book for my kid.

But when I got home, I Googled ‘Petrarch.’ Having been an English major in college, I did know that Petrarch was an Italian poet… and just as any English major who studied poetry, I was familiar with the Petrarchian sonnet.

What detail that I didn’t know, or likewise remember, was that Petrarch wrote most of those sonnets about love and loss…in the 13th century.

In that next week or so, I hemmed and hawed about this whole thing being a ‘universal sign’…

But eventually I did purchase a book of Petrarchian love sonnets a few months later.

So.

Yes.

You may take it however you will, but that book of Petrarchian love sonnets is on my altar because of one particularly sneaky incidence of pandoramancy coinciding with a misplaced book.

🙂

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March 16, 2015

Amazed.

~~~

Thank You, my Beloved.

For everything

Today and Always

❤

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February 5, 2015

Come break me down.

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August 24, 2014

Water, fire, love… and madness.

We survived the first week of school pretty well, so I cannot say that things are going as badly as they were.

As a matter of fact, I’m almost afraid to admit that things might be slowly moving towards ‘going well’ these days.

So, with that said, we went out this weekend.

We went grocery shopping on Saturday morning, and got enough groceries to re-stock the pantry.

We even remembered to get the supplies to square away the pool so that we could actually enjoy our pool more often.

And swim in it we did.

We spent the bulk of early daytime Saturday skimming, cleaning, and chlorinating the pool…followed by assembling pool floats so that we could spend the rest of the daylight enjoying the heat of the day in the water.

By the time that we were ready to be done with the pool for the day, it was time to settle in to watch the much anticipated new episode of Doctor Who, followed by the pilot episode of that new BBC series, Intruders.

We ordered out for Chinese, so I wouldn’t have to worry about cooking.

But then, I realized that I had a produce drawer full of the best pie apples, so I ended up baking an apple pie after dinner, while we watched Intruders.

~~~~

Intruders gave me something weird to think about in the first ten minutes, as there was that (heavily promoted) scene with that mysterious night visitor holding one of those yellow 45 rpm adapters… and as it turns out, that scene eerily played out so very much fucking closer to a very strange childhood memory of mine than I had previously expected…. that I very nearly had a full-on panic attack upon watching that scene.

*shudder* GAH.

NOW, while I can’t possibly guess at who those mysterious strangers will turn out to be in the series, there is a part of my psyche that was and still is both intrigued and terrified by the possibilities.

What if they turn out to be….?

O.o

But I am telling myself that if they do…I’ll just take it as yet another instance of Sneaky Ton of Bricks, simply on par with an extreme What is My Life Even Moment.

Perhaps, if things get really intense, my experience may reach levels at the Ratio of Several WTFs Per Minute.

*breathes*

Anyway….there was…. that yesterday.

~~~~

Today, we went to the Farmer’s Market, and I got my opportunity to pick up some locally grown cucumbers, tomatoes, and green peppers.

As well, I picked up 3 lbs of organic honey.

Do you know what time it is?

Why it’s mead-making time, of course ❤

(Though I still need to get some powdered milk if I’m ever going to make that honey candy that I have been meaning to make, as well.)

And then…I was lucky to find a great deal on a new firepit, and I’m no idiot, so I brought home that business.

It’s more like a steel fire-bowl with legs, like this:

But I am going to build a stone encasement around it, making it a more permanent structure in my yard, like this:

Of course, this means that I will likely be recycling the broken clay chiminea:

(lovingly nicknamed ‘Dick’)

that I have been using for all my firepit ritual needs for the last several years.

Unfortunately, ‘Dick’ was gifted to me by my oldest kid five years ago, and as much as ‘Dick’ received a lot of use – when home, I wrote a letter to burn as an offering at least every other week or so — ‘Dick’ has always seemed to be a haven for spiders.

Yes, even despite the heat and you know, flames(!)… these fearless spiders…still live there, and I am more than content to let them continue to do so.

I mean, these spiders risk being barbecued on a fairly regular basis, so I figure that they must be some pretty bad-ass spiders.

Bad-ass fire spiders.

That is why it is that I think it best to leave the bad-ass fire spiders alone and create a nice fire-pit well away from them, to keep everyone safe and happy.

(And besides, Someone seems to love the idea of a new fire-pit.

*nudge* *nudge*

How about FIRE NAO? I would LOVE FIRE NAO.)

~~~

Speaking of which, my Much Beloved….

This:

(Lyrics here)

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August 20, 2014

It’s the house telling you to close your eyes.

While I was out walking today, this song – by a relatively new band, Of Monsters and Men – came up on my YouTube recommendations:

Those lovely, haunting female vocals belong to Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir, and the male vocals are from guitarist/singer, Ragnar þórhallsson.

And what I discovered is that Of Monsters and Men hail from Iceland…and they have just started touring the US.

They are quickly becoming known for having a penchant for writing story-songs (full of jaunty, complex rhythms) which are sometimes sung in duets between Nanna and Ragnar, as showcased here.

~~~

There is a lot in this song that I can relate to…or at least a lot in there that is similar to my own present experience that I found myself relating to this morning.

Especially in the ‘little talks’ that I’ve been having between my insecurities and my fears that have led my brain into many a sleepless night.

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bloodteethandflame

Tag: music

November 30, 2015

Sunshine Blogger Award

October 20, 2015

Yesterday

October 12, 2015

A small reminder.

July 19, 2015

Month for Loki, Day 18: Another song.

July 12, 2015

Month for Loki, Day 12: Song

May 8, 2015

Tangled Up in Blue

March 16, 2015

Amazed.

February 5, 2015

Come break me down.

August 24, 2014

Water, fire, love… and madness.

August 20, 2014

It’s the house telling you to close your eyes.