Paul, Lorraine, Mike and LOJO!!!

The gig tonight was wonderful fun! After some initial confusion about whose gig it actually WAS, and who was playing, and when, we got down to the serious business of ROCK.

I love it when Lojo comes to town. Don't get to see enough of her. Adore her as a friend, and love doing shows with her. It was great tonight, as generally, she comes up to play with me when Paul has a conflict and he misses her. I had thought she was playing with someone else, and Paul and I were maybe sitting in a tune or two, but oh no, crafty little thing that she is , WE were her co-horts for the evening.

Suited me just fine. Later in the night Mike Metheney (I know I am spelling that wrong) joined in, which I loved, have heard him play a lot, but never had much of a chance to really do some tunes. Big Band!!!!!!!

The best bit about it, was we all know a lot of the same songs. Only in different styles and keys. In a show like this, you never know what you will be playing. Shooting from the hip. We did Ride On, a song I love, and we all had versions of, only something happened, and we played it like none of us had ever played it before, a complete creation, right there live. Brilliant it was, if I do say so...Total improv.

Makes one a better player. Place was packed, and saw a lot of old friends and made some new ones. Perfect.

Here's you next chapter of Haunted....Something to wake up and have with your coffee...

If you want to know more, it's working..

Haunted Jewels


"Where were you last night", you asked me.You asked me with fangs, and with claws. Fangs in my throat and claws across my chest. You are never subtle with your inquiries but you cannot fly just yet this evening and without your wings you are not strong enough to hold me.

You are not strong enough at all these nights, I am thinking and I worry.

Some, anyway.

Lie down , back in the bed, pull the covers, and the furs up close, drink this and listen. I will tell you where I have been....

Once long ago there was a girl , the good younger sister, ( as they always are, and yes, of course there was a bad older sister ) and this younger sister found an old women walking along the road and , was kind to the old women ( as they always are ) and was gifted by the old women, as the old women was a fairy ( as ever they are ) and the gift was for every word she spoke. another jewel would come from her mouth.

( the rude older sister, who was inevitably cruel to the old women, you ask? The stories say she was cursed, for every word she spoke a snake or a spider or a bat or a beetle would come from her mouth )

Now this good girl, for every word, a jewel, loose jewels, and rings, necklaces, a pin, things for her ears , ropes of jewels and anklets, came from her mouth, until there were too many, far to many and she died. For who could live for long decked so?

Such are fairy gifts to mortals. Even the well meaning ones never stop to think.

I know where this girl died, alone, and forgotten. Her bones , and jewels left in a cave far away from anywhere, away in the place all the stories come from. That's where I found her, late last night.

Her bones of course, sadly, were long gone but I have brought you the jewels to play with tonight. Rubies for you neck, red as blood and hot as fever. Emeralds, green like your eyes, the way they shine in the darkness. Purple stones for your fingers, fingers long and soft that tickle so when they run down my back and pearls as tender as moonlight.

I have brought you stones as black as every night that same moon is dark and diamonds , one for every star that shines in the sky, and in my eyes when I look at you. And sapphires, each with a tiny blue flame deep within, ever burning , ever reaching, ever hungry ever dying to be really truly free. The opals that shine a different colour every time the candles flicker and agates, which have a magic all of their own.

Deck yourself in my jewels and take them for your own, you are not mortal and they will not hurt you, watch in your mirror as they change and glow and shine and sparkle. Run your fingers over the pearls and drink the drops that run from your fingers. Turn ruby's to wine, rich and dark and red and take strength from all that they have to give.

And so, you will feel better. Soon. Very soon.

When you are well, I shall take you to where the older sister still lives, for she was not cursed now was she? She yet lives with her snakes, her spiders, her bats and the beetles.

We will go and visit them.

One Wild Kitty and Two Night Garden Poems

Weird...I just wrote to the In Charge of Everything Lady at my Bengal Rescue Group, and said if ever she needed a home for an F2 or F3, I would love a chance to experience one of these kitties...I spent a lot of last night researching F2 and F3's thinking about them

(Most pet Bengals are F4, four generations, at least, from the Asian Leopard Cat, a seriously wild animal. F3, three away, and F2 two away, meaning Grandma was wild. F1 means Mommy or Daddy was a Leopard.)

She wrote back to me in five minutes saying she had been on the phone with a women for two days who had an F1. It seems the Breeder did not socialize him, and dumped him at a vet. The vet gave the cat to the women, keeping mum about the whole F1 thing, she thought she was getting a regular Bengal.

Think about a Bengal three times wilder than mine. This would be one extreme Kitty!

Of course I offered to take him, if that would help.

THAT would be something to blog about....I have to say, I would love the challenge, and am kind of hoping that they take me up on it.

And back to art....

I got this this morning in my Inbox from Jane Yolen, saying that it was for our Night Garden search. (she doesn't waste any time!) So we have page one, and the bar has been set!

It's truly beautiful and I love it. In fact, I am turning it into the words for my song, that I am doing for my part....



In the Night Garden

Night lilies bloom,
Leaves red as blood.
Frogs without legs
Are astir in the mud.
Foxes with eyes that are
White as blind moons.
Katy-don’ts creaking out
Raw fiddle tunes.
Possums play dead
Till they really do rot.
And I am out searching
For what I know not.;
For what I know not,
And for what I most fear,
Afraid what’s behind me,
Afraid what is near.

By Jane Yolen

And, mostly to prevent you all from shaking your fingers at me tomorrow, after you told me to post the Garden piece I wrote a while back, here you go. (Tho I have to say, posting ones first bit of non-humour writing in public for the first time directly after a poem by Jane Yolen, is rather more of a test of bravery than I was looking for)

Haunted Garden

I can never find your hidden messages, you hide them so well. I know, you told me that I couldn't find them because I was too afraid of breaking things. What things? Precious things? Fragile things? Hearts? Bah, we eat them for breakfast some evenings.

Lets play hide and seek tonight, we will persuade the bats to act as messengers, and carry clues from me to you and you to I. The garden gnomes will not grumble if we stay out of the flower beds, besides where would the smallest of the neighbors dine if we were romping thru nightshade, the moon-flowers and the ghost roses.

(not mind you that the ghosts would be caught alive stopping to smell the roses, as if !)

I'll dress like Alice in Wonderland gone bad and you can wear a shift of spiderwebs and shimmer like you do in the bright moonlight. Stay by the house and count as high as you can, which my dear, I do know is more than FIVE , none of that again. I will go and hide, and a bat shall fly back to you with a note saying I lie in the place where the dead people live. I'll give you a spell and be home before ye.....

One is you
and the second is I
I shall run and
you shall fly

Come and find me,
if you can ,
alley alley in free,
with three dead men

Four little nightbirds
sitting in a tree and
five little spiders
all looking for me

Six dark vampires
and one make seven,
No good children will
go to heaven.......

A chest of gold,
pieces of eight,
will buy you time
it's getting late

I'll run home and
you'll be mine
that cat's done,
life number nine

as the churchbell tolls
number ten,

I'll wait for you, and we'll play again......

Love and Poems, Lorraine

Equal Time For Dogs, and Absent Friends

We've had a lot of great ideas, about our Project, which is seeming like it is going to be a sort of a "Book" , only online, a things like music and sculpture won't work in a book-book. All on a theme of Things that might appear in a Garden at night, real or un-real...

More ideas are very welcome, let's go for it. For those of you who missed out on what this Project is, we were talking one day about art, and how many different things could be done on a particular theme, and how one would interpret it, depending on what one did for art, and how different they would all be. Some people write, some do music, some do sculpture, some paint, some dance, some make things...Who can say..

For tonight tho, since I am knackered after Doggie Boot Camp (Agility Class) and since Hera has sent me some great photos, I think we will give the dogs a look in, and perhaps a shout out to people I am missing right now...



Yup. That's Loki. Here's a better look at his sweater. (which being hairless, he needs..)



Cabel did really great at agility class tonight, despite being very naughty beforehand and hopping up to the stove to snatch the cooling chicken that I use for treats. He only ate one, and I am hoping he will be ok, as dogs should not eat cooked chicken bones.

Here is a shot that Spacelaw took last winter...(She is REALLY going to have to catch up when she gets back!)



Since Hera's pets have been featured for three nights now, I think it only fair that we include a pic of her too. And it just so hapens that I have one not only of she and I , from a concert we did together last year, but one that includes our Miss Kitty (currently lost on the Jonas Bros tour, she is doing well, by the way, tho the road is hard, and has nothing but good to say for the people she is working with. Let's send her some love! Miss her I do!



Here's one of us on stage, the shadowy figure in the forground is none other than my Boss, (with Dr Score to the right) currently lost in China, tho by all accounts doing well, and having a wonderful time. He hasn't told me much as such calls are expensive and tend to focus on Things That Must Be Dealt With, I keep a list every day....Miss him too.



Love and Dogs and to Absent Friends,
Lorraine

Freaky Cats: A Photo Essay

And you thought yesterday's picture of Brjann was scary....Welcome to Seriously Freaky Cats....



These came from Hera today. She knits these little sweaters for him, when she is not making music.



Not sure what to say about this next one, it's just wrong on so many levels...



Thank you, Brjann and Hera! Venus and Mim, have no sweaters, seeing as how they have fur and it is nearly 90 here, but not to be outdone, they decided last night to scale my cupboards and hang out on top of them near the ceiling. Of course.



Cool, says Venus. And then discovers Monsters. (That's where I keep them, some of them anyway.)



And promptly and completely and totally falls inn love with the Five Headed Dragon...



AND the Sea Monster...



Singing "Anything Venus can do I can do better" thru clenched fangs, eyes beaming Death Rays, Mim ascends the cupboard....



See, says Mim? I am Evil, and I am up high.



I will leave you will a shot I call "Venus and Vampires (John Bolton, I know you're going to ask, scetches from A Short Film About John Bolton, and very cool they are!) If you have any photos of your own Freaky Pets, send them, and I will post them here for a while. Not sure anyone tho, even my Bengals, will out freak Brjann. The bar is pretty high. Remember tho, he is a Professional Freaky Pet, someone once said "All cats are extraordinary" so cats, dogs, Tasmanian Devils, whatever you have, send 'em.



Love and Freaky,
Lorraine

Good Evening, sweet Gnomes...

We were talking today about Dogs in strange outfits and I mentioned that I had one of Hera's dog in a strange coat, and as you can see I do have one, but I think it may be her cat, and not her dog....We'll have to ask her, and see if she has any more fun photos. I do know she has a new cd out and that it rocks!

I like the thread's that have been jumping around today, all the language bits, and moving on into poor discarded gnomes, lying about in abandoned garden's waiting for a ghost with haunted bagpipes to appear....

I had a funny thought today, I thought "Hey! I could use Garage Band, and record my bagpipe progress, post a bit every week for people to listen to!" and it made me happy.

Then it hit me, and all I could do was laugh. I'd LOSE friends like fleas off a dog! Why would I subject you to what is almost certainly going to be a horribly painful experience????

May do it anyway. A little trial by fire never hurt anyone.....

Off to watch Project Runway, a show I seem to have been drawn into lately, not sure why..

Love and Haunted Gnomes,
Lorraine

All the Plays a Stage, and We.....

I am now re-writing this entire post as Blogger ATE it when I was nearly done. I shall choose to think I am meant to work this day thru a little more...

Cabel had a great day. He was so happy. He got lots of attention, met lots of new dogs and I bought him this great new Doo-dah from an animal rescue group. He slept all the way home.

I didn't get many pictures today, but here is Joe Smith, from Bedlam, playing my new Ullieann pipes. It's not a great photo, but there you have it. He says they are mighty fine pipes, and need a little work, but that he can do it for me, and then teach me to play.



It seems to be a thing that is coming around to me. About ten years ago, I gave Joe a fiddle, all inlaid and lovely, but he loved it, and I didn't play it much. Now he is teaching me pipes. Joe says that Ullieann pipes are the instrument that pulls at his soul. Me too. It's such a fine bit of magic, pipes like those. He also says they are harder to play than anything else created on this earth.

My respect for Mark Sieve reached new heights today, watching him perform the show with his new partner John. The crowd was sad, as was to be expected, but it did my heart so good to see the support and the standing ovation at the end. They pulled it off like the professionals they are.

It hit me harder than I thought. I thought I had done my tears, but there they were at the end. I thank Todd Menton for being there and giving me the strength to go back and talk to Mark. Todd is opening for them this year, as Paul and I did before, Todd was the act who opened for them before Paul and I. It made me so happy him there, even tho the circumstances were sad.

(no weirdness, I was truly happy to see Todd, and am glad he is there, his leaving, and Paul and I's had nothing to do with each other, or Joe and Mark, and we are all true friends)

It is so hard as you want to be there for a friend who has lost so much, but at the same time, you don't want to intrude.

(Gayle, you didn't, and it meant a lot that you came up and spoke)

I thank my friend who went with me today, My Fire, who also knew Joe. I needed her, and her being there helped me so. We had a weep together, and kept it together. SO much love out there today, so many memories. SO much family.

Talking with Mark was a good thing. We had hugs, and some laughs, remembering Joe. We talked of George Carlin's take on death, and how you get a five minute warning and should use it to do something dramatic. Mark says actors get 15 minutes. I got to have hugs with Joe's daughter, our Ice Maiden. I got to meet John , Marks new partner and shake his hand and tell him he was good, and say "Tough gig, no pressure or anything..."

Tough day. Lovely day. Healing day. Long day.

Got to come home to Neighbours and Bengals.



I think I may have said more the first time I did this, before Blogger ate it, but perhaps I need to leave it at this. With one thought..

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

I have always thought that said pretty much everything....

Love, and sweet good nights,
Lorraine