When things get wonky

Life is fast, it seems to me. Once upon a time. . .I clicked something. Consequences for an action not fully understood is what I am trying to focus my mind upon to relate to those who know what I mean, already, but to write about it clarifies what I know, so this is this.
Bouncing back and forth in time and space what used to be called juggling now is called multi-tasking is making me tired. When I get tired I make mistakes. I apologize for sharing something without asking. I thought I was sharing the link to that something, but no.
So, how does one undo damage? My honey always tells about nailing holes in a board, when you pull a nail out, the hole is still there. I seem to spend a lot buying putty.
My intentions are good. Really, I mean it. And I am sorry, really I mean it. Nobody told me to do this or anything it is just that I stayed up a lot during the night thinking about the internet and what it all means and why do I do a blog? It is technically difficult at times to keep up with changes that these facilities make in their programs and sometimes I get in a hurry and just want to tell a story or something, else. I was off the blog stuff for a long time and lots changed.
I found out that some gismos on here do not work and I spent hours trying to fix them. Still not finished yet. Besides Microsoft loaded stuff on here and that always causes me problems for a day or so. It is just me. . .I know.
Now that I am on Google PLUS it is here  where I am having problems. I just have not figured out the conflicts between plus and plain blogger. OK

Now, the pic above is a photo I took of my own art piece done many years ago. It is a mono print pulled from finger painted clay and then drawn upon. I have a thing about the four corners area. I am sure you all know that, now. It lives inside my head. I can see as plain as you can see inside my mind every single place I have ever been. I love this landscape and it affects everything I do, one way or another.
Where I live now is the opposite. It is a verdant jungle. I love this, too.

I love the virtual world because it is fascinating. I think it is amusing that I am writing this blog where I bounce around in space and time and my thoughts bounce around the world. I wonder what it all means????? What would Leonardo do? I tell myself that he would use anything available to do what ever he could imagine. I already know that I am connected to every single dot of matter in the universe so I do not need anything to connect. But, I do it anyhow. This is how I know the power of a prayer. My prayers are my way of thanking. The experience of living is so good, even when bad stuff happens.

xoxo Bobbing Bird

 

It is just iron between me n' u

 

 



July  1905

 

 

 

Dear Sweet Honey Bun,

 

Next to a pile of dung smoking fire reaching higher to the Sky Mesa I camp waiting for the dawn to come once more. The trail to Santa Fe crosses this point not too far from this place. Yesterday where we crossed is the volcanic fields that flow farther than I can see. Some tell tales of tubes down there. I will not try my luck just to hide from this unrelenting sun and heat. I know there is water close to the mesa for I saw a native with a jar atop her head. I know not if it is more full of danger to try for water or not.

I learned some new tricks from one Hopi the other day. He showed me his garden in the midst of nowhere. The corn was almost ripe and he had beans and squash ready to pick. It seems he digs a small hole and puts in a fish, then on top of that he puts in one seed of corn one seed of bean and one squash seed. When it grows the corn is the pole for the beans and the squash shades the ground a bit to conserve the water that must be brought on the back of a mule from the rio.

 

I heard tell of them unraveling cloth in order to get some red thread. I bought some cochineal bugs from this trader to bring home to you that way you can dye some wool red. If it be not soon I will send them with old Niels when he passes through on his way back north on the Burr trail. Sometimes the wind blows the red as blood sand so high it is like I imagine a curtain of iron between me and you.

 

Love with all of my heart,

Elmer

 

(from the old trunk in a scap book) same below.

 

 

 xoxo a bird told me