http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com word alchemy. Sun, 08 Jul 2012 05:02:11 +0000 http://backend.userland.com/rss092 en Dusting off the corners around here to FINALLY announce::: www.marybethbonfiglio.com it’s gonna be the same but different. different but the same. i’m offering a few services and will definitely be blogging more regularly. feeling grace for my new home. not sure if anybody is even here anymore. but if you ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2012/07/08/finally/ I have reasons for the silence, but not good ones. My writing here should be in synergy with everything else I’m doing. Regardless, I’ve been: 1. Writing a television show. And what comes with that is convincing sweet yet very big bad heavy guns in the city of ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2012/05/23/my-holy-trinity/ Dear Grandma Mary and Grandma Salvatrice, I never met you. Your hands never held mine, my head never laid against your bountiful chests. Your spicy slow cooked pasta sauce with hog hoof and egg or your rustic pork and kraut with Austrian herbs never touched my tongue. We ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2012/02/21/475/ I didn’t mean to call in Kali for her birth. But it happened. Four years ago she came through and it was atomic, Earth folding inside out, it was oceans turning to flame. Everything I thought I was or had or knew was gone, alchemized into rising ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2012/02/06/four-2/ My soul sister Leigh encouraged me to read my previous post (The Apocalypse), record it and share it here. I haven’t read any writing out loud since I was 23 and would put down my waitress tray on spoken word night at Cafe Luna in Hollywood and break out ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2012/01/20/the-apocalypse-live-and-direct/ He drives, his hat on crooked, his right hand rubs my upper thigh. I weave my fingers into his and squeeze, help him rub deeper into my flesh. I crack the window a couple inches. Like a vacuum my face sucks the air in. I open my mouth and catch ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2012/01/19/472/ As a kid it was the smell of new leather shoes that we certainly couldn’t afford but bought anyway, and piles of leaves burning up the way on Kidder Farm where we got our milk until the late 70’s. It was my mother creating countertops covered in apple breads ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2011/10/18/free-falling/ I believe in everything. Mama, don’t you? How can you not believe in everything? The stars and the moon. God and zombies. Flowers and placentas, too. Everything. It’s so beautiful. Why don’t people just believe in everything? I had a moment of clarity last week. My ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2011/09/10/everything-or-birthblood/ Music is revolutionary, always, in and of itself. Now I am more of a heavy bass and hard drum kind of girl. I like electronic goo mixed with organic messes of sound. But I am always conscious of the lyrical quality of songwriting. When someone is pouring ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2011/08/28/musical-revolution/ Summertime here is less about committing to anything, unless absolutely necessary, and more about not knowing and seeing where it all ends up. I have been existing and thriving in the in-between space, that place where we know we are changing, just about ready reveal the changed woman, ... http://misplacedmama.blogsome.com/2011/08/09/in-the-space/