misplaced mama

Rewind Selectah! Don’t stop till the very last drop!

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And yes, she is learning to scratch. Her father cringes every time she puts her finger down on a limited edition vinyl and takes it for a little push and pull. 

One of the two turntables is missing a slipmat (the one she is placing a Dancehall compilations called Punany.  Um, yeah, she says that’s her  ‘very best’ record.  Anyway, I told her she couldn’t use the turntable without the slipmat.  She climbs down from her DJ booth after thinking for a moment.  She heads over to the sacred paper towel cupboard, pulls and rips two towels off the roll.  Climbs back to her booth and figures out how to get the papertowels on to the turntables in place of a slipmat.  "is this good?" she asks.  "yeah it’s good" i smile at her.  "perfect".  The dance party begins.

B and I debated whether or not to put his gear out in the open at this house.  We had a designated studio space in AZ.  My feeling has always been, a child learns by watching (which she has done since she was 2 weeks old). And then a child learns by doing.  "easy for you to say" he says to me.  "it’s all my gear not yours."  "Many a time I have let her write love stories to Cody Maverick (Surf’s Up) on my laptop, " I remind him.  "Yeah, and she’s busted two computers," he reminds me. 

But in the end he decided put it all out, whether it be for Mia to learn the trade, or because his cold ass is sick of making music out in the garage, it seems to be working out. 

Mia’s Old Skool Mixed Tapes available upon request.

Nope.  No babe yet.  But I’d like to take the time to welcome Talia Grace into the world.  Her bas-ass beautiful mama birthed her into the world two days ago.  C and I have have been pregnant together from close to day one.  I take such joy in seeing a photo of her and her newborn girl, surrounded by bright blessings and all things magic.  My turn soon, just not yet….

While waiting to birth some life into being,  I thought I’d take the opportunity to link you to a website I’ve started writing for.  It’s something I’ve been meaning to do, but keep forgetting to tell ya’ll about. While driving in the ghettomobile up the coast and sleeping by the sea, I read the book 2012: The Return of  Quetzalcoatl by Daniel Pinchbeck. It’s the journey of a man seeking shamanism in all forms, from Rudolf Steiner to the sacred tea from the Auyausca leaf, from Mayan timekeepers to crop circles.  While the book questions new age theory, it explores our shifting consciousness as a collective, weaving the individual and the universal consciousness into one story.  I loved Pinchbeck’s mixture of voices, from questioning critical thinker to soul-driven, third-eye opened seeker.  He never once tried to give answers, yet as he seeks shamanic guidance on his own exploratory journey, he became a bit of muse to me, while I conjured up a whole new level of my own personal questions.  Not once did I feel l was being sold a dogma, I was just invited on one person’s wild ride. The core of the book is about opening up to the idea of a shifting consciousness on fast speed, leaving power-centered and material rooted world behind and melting into spiritual awareness and inevitable evolution. I read some more Pinchbeck (articles and such) and the more I read, the more I became intrigued.  Then I found out he created an on-line magazine, Reality Sandwich.  And then somehow I weaseled some words into his domain (stalked them).  It’s truly filled with interesting contributors including DJ Spooky that Subliminal Kid (he’s one of my heroes, post-modern theorist, DJ and dub provider? If I wasn’t in love, I’d be in love.) Reality Sandwich’s theme is Evolving Consciousness, Bite by Bite. 

I think my first and short news piece is up, but i’m not sure though.  It’s called "Grow High" and it’s about the need for vertical sustainable farming in large urban centers (food farming. don’t let the title fool ya.)

Regardless, the site is good if you are into weaving stuff like consciousness shifting culture, shamanism, psyche and art.  Check it out. 

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Now back to sitting on my cozy nest,  keeping this little egg warm.  Some cramping.  Some serious spaced out moments where my husband may actually think I suffer from dementia.  As my spiritual midwife would have observed if she walked into my living room: Your baby has landed.  Oh, baby, I feel you.  And you feel so good, I fly a bit high from moment to moment.

Yes, baby has landed.  Now we just wait for sacred doorways to open, when baby says, Okay, enough of this super funky, juicy, internal plane of bliss and spirit, light matter and perfect flow, I now choose The Flesh. I’m supported and loved, and this world calls me to it’s other side.  I’m coming home, Mama.  Open up…and breath. 

This book arrived in the mail for me today.

My friend Jamye (Waxman) wrote it and it’s quite a read. I think she was the first person I honored in my Shameless Sistah Promotions over a year ago (where I may have even linked to her masturbation survey?  Did any of you take it?) Jamye’s voice is born from empowerment and a desire to support, educate and stimulate through her work as a sexplorer.  Her service is offered through literature, feminist porn, How-To DVD’s as well as workshops and classes (she can teach one mean blow-job workshop, I’m told).  I feel a great connection with her; as she works to break the walls of control and judgment around sex, I hope to do the same in the birth industry.  When we give women power and a voice in both areas, we bloom and grow; transform. We become validated and true to ourselves.  We bring power and choice back to our bodies.  Just as we want freedom to fuck who want and how we want (consensual, obviously) and find pleasure within and without our bodies, we should also desire a culture where birthing women have the power and freedom to feel and experience their own bodies while they bring their babies down; without a fear-dominated industry’s hand in our yoni.  Like sex, in birth we want no laws, no protocol, and no needless intervention. We want choice. We want pleasure (hey, I’m aiming for an orgasmic birth this time around).  And sometimes a little pain.

Back to her book.  A Women’s Guide To Masturbation: Getting Off.  Jamye is a wealth of information about orgasms, masturbation history, cultural taboos, good sex toys, and technique; she writes in a witty, down-to-earth fashion and she writes like she talks; easy and light, from the heart, meaning what she says.  She knows her stuff.   She’s endearing and articulate.  Intelligent.  And sexy.   She uses the voices of an array of women, as well, which draws you into the stories.  Not only is the book fun to read, it’s important.  Nobody  talks much about masturbation, especially female masturbation.  Self-love is much nicer than self- loathing.  We aren’t encouraged to enjoy or touch our bodies, to get to know ourselves, our sensual likes and dislikes, our pleasures and our fantasies.  Instead we are conditioned to think our bodies are inadequate and ugly; they aren’t skinny enough, or smooth enough, or curvy…even that our vaginas aren’t tight enough… so we need enhancements and validation from outside ourselves. Or we are taught that loving ourselves is dirty and wrong.  But our bodies are temples.  Shouldn’t we worship them?   Feel each dip and curve, each imperfection until it becomes perfection? (physically and emotionally speaking)?  Maybe if we did, the world would follow suite.

So, even though sex is the last thing on my mind now, at 38 weeks pregnant I spend my nights more in a pass the chocolate, gimme the remote, and rub my back sort of scenario, there was a point where I spoke candidly with Jamye regarding research for her book.  Somewhere in that little white book with the lotus shaped vibrator image on the front are extensive quotes by me about my fantasies as well as  how I plan on communicating with my daughters about masturbation and self-love in general.  I won’t say another word, except that if you get the book and read it, I bet you can figure out what words are mine.  Although that’s not why you should get it.  Get it and enjoy it for yourself, help spread the word.  Touch yourself!  It’s okay! Go to Amazon or wherever and buy it.  It should be a fixture in our book shelves.

Some heavy writings for the near future of this blog; I am so close to unraveling these heart stings and passing out a key to a peepshow of my emotions.  I need to use these words as a vehicle to navigate through life’s richest and deepest experiences, the ones that ain’t too pretty; the ones that question my ability to love, guide and be a better parent. 

But for now, let’s just have some fun and celebrate Rebecca.

Rebecca Love has been my friend since I was 19 years old.  Both upstate New York Gals (you know what they say about upstate gals, and it’s true). We both share the same best friend, and as time rolled on our friendship status expanded and mutated from both being Leigh’s best friend, to owning this incredible bond in our own right that I utterly cherish. We both shared the same bootlicious desire to shake it all night long and have done so often together.  We both are utter fire.  We both have been blessed with extreme wanderlust and when we can’t go by foot we do so in our minds. We both of have impeccable taste in shoes, bags and jeans. We posses an uncanny resemblance to one another, (except her breasts are fabulous and full and her legs go on forever). People often assume we are sisters (the kind who share the same mama) when we link arms and take on the night together.

Rebecca can be considered Diva Of My Day for a basket full of reasons; her vitality, her zen-like strut as she maneuvers through life, her refined psychic and intuitive abilities, her knowledge of the planets and the stars, her soft, smushy, kind heart mixed with her fearless howl when she sees fit to vocalize herself.  Her love for her friends is selfless. The way she mothers and loves my children is effortless and natural; even though she is not yet a mother, I am just in awe of how perfectly patient she is with my kids and how she communicates with them; with respect and love always allowing her wise innermama to emerge. I look forward to borrowing more from her when I get to watch her become a mother herself someday.  She is also on her way to becoming heavily involved in philanthropy, so if you have money to give away, ask her where to give it away to.

But none of these reasons qualified her as my diva.  All my friends are utterly fabulous.  But not all of my friends keep a little pocket rocket in their glove box so that when the traffic on the 10 Freeway going across L.A. gets thick and pretty much stops, pleasure can be found.

"You what?  You get-off with a vibrator when your stuck in traffic?" 

"Hell yeah.  I just realized one day that if I rolled up my tinted windows, stuck it down my pants,  I could scream as LOUD as I wanted and nobody would give a damn. Beats sitting in traffic."

"Wow.  You are my hero."

It’s that simple.  My diva’s use their time very, very wisely. 

I have been trying to write this for a week. This daily writing thing has it’s good and bad points. I am just not clever enough to attempt to entertain on a daily basis. Some days I want absolutely no outside communication. At all. So to come and un-peel myself in this format is a real challenge. And the time I would have liked to spend thinking about writing a great Diva of the Day, (a subsidiary of Shameless Sistah Promotions:-) I had to spend figuring out a way to burp something, anything out on paper. Anyway, I hope I can do justice when I speak of this marvelous, talented Diva.

Since my first Diva was a sex activist, my second obviously should be a birth activist.

Her name is Jeanette and she is amazing.

When I first moved to the Phoenix area, specifically Scottsdale, I knew only my much older brother and his wife and their kids. That’s it. I had no idea how as new mom whose birthing and parenting and lifestyle choices seemed practically illegal in this relatively conservative and uptight little community I had landed in would meet others I could vibe with. Where was I to start? Anytime I pulled my boob out to feed my year old in public it felt like I had a scarlet letter across my forehead. It all seemed overwhelming and being the kind of person who feels perfectly fine alone, figuring I only planned on being here a very short time, who really cared? I’d just consider it an experiment in hibernation and not worry about making friends. I had loads of good ones other places. No need to struggle looking here. How was I going to find anyone special?

One day, while doing research for a book I was writing on homebirth, I came across an announcement for a Birth Circle. It was opened to women all over the phoenix area and it offered support, community, advocacy and education for women and their birthing choices. It was put on by The Arizona Birth Network, a non-profit organization which was a fresh voice for mother-centered birth, i.e. safe birth. Being a happy homebirther, trying to write a book on the exact subject, and being disbelief that something like this could exist here, I ran to the Circle.

The first time I saw Jeanette LeBlanc at that birth circle, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that a women that young was the resposible for this gathering. I immediately saw her wisdom twinkling in her eyes. She was beyond her years in knowledge and skill. Yet, when I saw her dipping a chocolate- chocolate chip cookie in a plateful of ambrosia salad (there was even food there for all of us) I knew she was a kid at heart and I knew I was meant to just adore her forever. I had little Mia in a sling and found a slew of other mamas slinging surrounding me, breastfeeding! Talking about their births! We shared joy and pain and healing experiences and the blood and guts. We told stories of homebirth heaven and hospital rapes. There was crying and laughing. People spoke of homebirth like it was normal and non-abusive! Wow! Everyone looked relaxed and at home. It was indeed a true Circle. A fellowship. A tribe of healers who were really just women-mothers but by joining together in such intimate ways, grand things were occurring. Mystical. Important. It was a sign to be that birth rites were about to change and that these women were going to have everything to do with it. And this young women, this brown haired, blue-eyes, long legged beauty who was excited and well spoken started it all. She was my hero.

Jeanette likes to un-deservingly criticize herself for not “having it together”, or not doing all she “needs to”. But how many women do you know who come here from another country, under the age of 30, with a husband and a child, living in somewhat secluded suburbia, start a city wide non-profit that educates through workshops, birth circles, and a free-exceptionally high quality newsletter (she even made me the features editor because she loves me so much and does not mind I don’t know how to spell)? Sounds so me like a bit of an achiever, right? Every bit of an activist, political and personal, because peace and justice starts for women when they can connect their yoni, their hearts and their minds and gather for others and just begin to change the way things are. She is a goddess. Not only is she type-A (in a good way, her work is perfect pretty much all the time) she she’s creative and can visualize change and she actually has the energy to do something about it. She doesn’t just talk about how awesome it would be to start and connect powerful systems of women who care about birthing and babies and families…SHE DID IT. She draws in world-renown birth professionals and best-selling authors to come to Birth Circles. She refers to the great Henci Goer and Sarah Buckley as her friends…and they are! One of the coolest things I was thinking about when pondering Jeanette and what she has done for my life and undoubtedly for so many others is that 90% of the women/mothers I am lucky to know now, I met because of Jeanette. And even cooler, 98% of those 90% either had a homebirth/planned one/are planning on birthed un-medicated and/or the way the wanted/are birth savvy all around. These facts apply to approx. 1.5% of the entire US population, and for me the stats falls in the 90th percentile. Where else on earth can you easily find so many people who believe power and healing in birth, whether you are looking for a friend or a care-provider? Jeanette has had a hand in creating this fact. She is a connector, like a magnetic orb she spins a silvery and strong web of people that are good to know.

I am in awe.

And not only is she a birth worker, a doula and a non-profit organization founder, she is also a child and birth photographer. And she is not just any photographer. She captures the inner light and love of the lucky people who get in the way of her shutter. I’ve seen her explode in less than a year from a really good picture-taker to someone who is a breathtakingly artistic and precise photographer, developing style and composition at the speed of light. Literally.

Jeanette can support you through your pregnancy, take photos of your blooming belly, be utterly with you at your birth; placing her hands of peace on that lower back spot where the baby’s skull is pressing and relieve with magical counter pressure, and all the while snapping photos capturing the essence of your deepest birthing warrior. And when she is done with all that she can take some heartwarming photos of your new life. Phew. I’m tired just writing about all her talents. Her lack of sleep has nothing to do with her 1 year old daughter. No, it has to do with the fact she is helping to heal the world.

So the last person in the world who should think they are not doing enough work or not getting to what’s ’suppose’ to be done, is Jeanette. She is a diva. And I bet she could do all that she does in smooth black stilettos holding a girly drink of her choice.

Jeanette is helping change the world for all women, babies and families. That is no small feat. I am honored to be her friend.

I speak in pictures….

This weekend was has been a blast. Our dear friend Jason came in representing Ojai, CA on Thursday to visit with the family and took some outrageously fun and gorgeous photos. Mostly promo stuff for Great Stone (Bill’s musical venture*). The drove out to rural desert, landed at some abandoned dog track in west Phoenix and did some industrial stuff downtown for over 5 hours. They took over 600 photos, mostly film, lots of monochomatic, but some digital. Can’t wait to see what comes out of his darkroom.

Here is some silliness that got downloaded today.

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When I get the ok from Jason, I will post more. There are vibrant shots with saturated sky and fatigue hues of the desert. They posses a strange sci-fi essence to them; alien and cosmic in nature. They do say that dub music comes from another planet, though.

Really, my beat making man is just a dadda of 2 little girls, and helpful husband…and when he isn’t capturing the ancient soundscapes in endless wire from the roots up to the needles of nothingness, he enjoys vacuuming in his dress-up clothes.

*If you have any interest in reggae, specifically dub music, check out their music myspace I would suggest checking out in a week or so when they upload the newest music from their lab. It’s some really gooey sounds.