after the blazing dies

Christmas came and went in a blur. It was lovely, and we gave and received muchly, all with deep gratitude and joy, as is befitting this winter celebration of the dying year, and the world's rebirth...

Now this year is almost over, and I, for one, am glad. Everything has turned out well, but still...it's been hell, and I'll be glad when it's behind me.

I'm looking forward to January, that cold, grey month of thin light and long shadows and the low, low sun.

Burning the Old Year

BY NAOMI SHIHAB NYE

Letters swallow themselves in seconds.   

Notes friends tied to the doorknob,   

transparent scarlet paper,

sizzle like moth wings,

marry the air.

So much of any year is flammable,   

lists of vegetables, partial poems.   

Orange swirling flame of days,   

so little is a stone.

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,   

an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.   

I begin again with the smallest numbers.

Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,   

only the things I didn’t do   

crackle after the blazing dies.

I heard demands

Last night I attended a party at sweet Val's house, to celebrate Día de los Muertos, or "Day of the Dead." Valerie goes all out, with traditional foods, costumes, a bonfire, hooping hoopsters, music, dancing, an ofrenda (altar), and free-flowing drinks of all kinds.

Val and her sugar skull cake

Chris "Caliente" and Val

Me and Jill

Nikki and Friend

Val's ofrenda (altar)

I love the idea of celebrating lost loved ones, but there's more to it than that. We love them, but we fear them, too. The syrupy sweet coffee we put on the altar because it's Auntie's favorite is an offering of love, but it's also a gesture of appeasement. As kind as she may have been before death, after she's passed we don't really want Auntie gliding into the kitchen in search of a cup of joe in the middle of the night. 

We intentionally but "safely" explore our fears in order to overcome them...Rubber-necking at car crashes, watching horror movies, reading true crime novels, telling spooky stories at sleepovers, putting evil witches in fairy tales, and yes - even Halloween and Day of the Dead celebrations - all put us face-to-face with our fears . In these scenarios we always come out victorious, and maybe a little less afraid.  


I know I did...

These amazing installations by artist James Hopkins serve the same purpose, in a contemporary but unmistakable manner.

Fear 

by Hart Crane

The host, he says that all is well

And the fire-wood glow is bright;

The food has a warm and tempting smell,—

But on the window licks the night.

Pile on the logs... Give me your hands,

Friends! No,— it is not fright...

But hold me... somewhere I heard demands...

And on the window licks the night.

From wikipedia:

Each year in the beginning of November, millions around the world honor and remember their deceased loved ones. From Latin America to the Philippines, people visit family members' and friends' graves, eat customary food or follow particular traditions. Also known in some countries as All Souls' Day, the Day of the Dead originated as a Roman Catholic holiday.

In Mexico and large parts of Latin America, the Day of the Dead is a national holiday and widely celebrated. People build small altars and bring the deceased's favorite food to the cemetery. In the Philippines, entire families spend the night at the graveyard, while in many countries in Europe people visit relatives' graves and gather with family and friends.

See more super extra awesomesauce Day of the Dead stuff here: http://www.mexicansugarskull.com/support/dodhistory.html

What are you afraid of?

be all mine

I got the message that you were coming.

We're so excited! We've been watching for you all day!

How was your journey? I know the path can be long, and lonely. Even with companions, you're still all alone with your thoughts.

But where are my manners? Let's not stand out here talking; please, come inside!

You can freshen up, then we'll have dinner. Let me show you upstairs. 

Everything's all ready. We've been cooking for days!

I thought you might enjoy having dinner in the garden.

The others are already here. They're all so anxious to see you, they can hardly wait.

  I've arranged some fun for after dinner. I think you'll enjoy it.

But what's the matter? What do you mean you can't stay? You've only just arrived!

Well, if you must go, then take this with you. Hold onto it as long as you can, and it should see you safely to the far edge of the forest. From there you'll be on your own, so keep your wits about you, and don't dawdle. 

There's no time to linger. Night falls quickly when you've a long way to go through unfamiliar realms.

Be off!

Farewell and safe journey...

Witch-Wife

Edna St. Vincent Millay

She is neither pink nor pale,

And she never will be all mine; 

She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,

And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;

In the sun ‘tis a woe to me!

And her voice is a string of coloured beads,

Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can,

And her ways to my ways resign;

But she was not made for any man,

And she never will be all mine.