love from vescent

Desert Wind

The Mojave has peaked at 100 degrees the past couple days. Around 7pm it starts to get cooler. Yesterday I spent hours on my front patio, listening, watching the desert, reading, writing. I'm practicing presence. Being in the moment. Enjoying now here. It was delicious, gorgeous. Satisfying. 

For hours, I listened. To the wind. To the sounds of the military base practicing their bombing. To the sounds of the desert. A quiet symphony.

Deep rumble reverberates through the mountains
Strong wind blows, a constant undulating middle tone
Wind through pinecones, fish eating coral under the ocean 
Metal jangles inconsistent intervals
Soft caresses on my face, the sound of cotton in my ears
The desert is not silent, but to hear, I must be.

Matched visually by the stunning setting sun, changing colors on the far away mountains and the rising moon from behind a nearby rockpile. That fat ivory sphere, peeking it's cool head over the warm mountains. The sky cooling to a deeper shade of blue in the evening hours.

I lay on the concrete for hours. Watch the sky change. I raise a glass of ruby wine to the moon. We talk, converse in the spotlighted night. I couldn't have planned this better, if I had planned anything. As it is, I have surrendered. To my self, to my life. 

The breeze over my skin. Delicious. Better than a hundred hands. Wind caressing my body, running through my hair, brushing it across my face, neck, arms, back. Anthropomorphic - the moon, this desert, this wind, my city I love. Solitude and yet, connected to all.

Madrid

There's something about this city. Echoes of familiarity. A conquering nation. I have finally met a European city I could come to love. But this love is because of my love for South America. Los Angeles. Everywhere I look, the architecture, the language of the city is familiar to me. And older. Refined. Safer. Civilized. I have found the place from which the seed blew across the ocean.

Saturday was a long conversation with the city. I fail to speak Spanish, so we speak something deeper. Something from my heart. Walks on stone pathways under a canopy of leaves. Cool breezes. Everywhere stone architecture. Fountains. I am calmly enchanted by it all. The language of the heart.

--

Friday night. A paella experience. To be honest, I'm not much of a paella person. The five different wines helped me change my mind. So does the conversation. Two days ago, I arrived in this city, not knowing a single person. Tonight, I am with friends. Some, I know are for life. I feel perfectly at home, comfortable. It's unusual. I'm not usually like this.

--

Afternoon. I  finally dragged myself out of the aftermath of paella and wine - medicated with fresh juice at a sidewalk cafe.

I'm meandering up the garden-park in the middle of the wide boulevard. I hear a shouting, whooping and I see the street filled with bicyclists. They're naked. At least a hundred of them - men and women - wearing only shoes. In that moment, Madrid evoked equally the Playa and Melrose. How could I not feel at home?

--

A familiar restaurant. From cities near and far. New York. Belgium. Los Angeles. And now, Madrid. I drink the cafe con leite from the bowl. Eat a familiar goat cheese salad. Sitting on a sidewalk patio. I watch people pass. I relax. Calm. A cool wind blows my hair. I read a silicon valley computer scientist meander thoughts on the future and money. I try to withhold judgement as I read, but I can feel the privileged meritocracy though my Kindle. I (and most people) live in a different reality. 

--

A ten year anniversary present. A pair of silver earrings materializes out of the stalls of artists. They are perfect.

--

Exhausted from walking and shopping, I return home for siesta. The plastered walls of my room, the double doors, the rugs, the tile. Reminds me of the simplicity of Brazilian homes. I lay on the bed, slipping in and out of hypnogogic meditative trance in the dark room. Where is this place I am in?

--

It's late afternoon. I'm talking with Sancho. Both of us are AirBnB hosts. We get it. We've immediately connected and start talking about new economies. I begin to see the cultural shift. The importance of embracing AirBnB economically. I wish the local governments could see how important it is to the future of humanity to embrace this paradigm and stop fighting it. They will lose, no matter how long it takes. 

--

I had the idea to celebrate with a classical concert. Magically a selection of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven were on the schedule at the Audatorio Nacional. I booked my ticket, put on my dress, donned my new earrings and jumped into a cab.

Entering the space, I hear notes of my favorite Chopin - Fantasie Impromptu. But there's no pianist. They keys move on their own. I know the universe is winking at me. I can't help but think of him. I feel a phantom emptiness. It's almost a tinge of sadness. Feeling parallel timelines, where the sand has run out.

--

Time stops. The music begins. I am delighted by the pieces. How could I have known I'd be into classical music? I guess it's not to be too surprising. I had a cultured upbringing. I am delighted to find something new to explore. Authentically delighted.

Watching first violin in the orchestra, I remember him - a first violinist from 20+ years ago. My grandfather played french horn and I used to accompany my grandmother to watch to the symphony. We must have met backstage - that particular violist. He used to crash in my apartment when he would come to town. 

That memory reminds me of others. I realized I had a number of musicians in my past. I do love music.

I lose myself. I really love the Bach. It's a piano/orchestra piece. Perfect. A whole lifetime of emotion in the piece.

They wheel the piano off the stage and set-up for Mozart. I'm rolling around the music in my mind. There's something I just can't get - or maybe I don't like it. I compare it to Brie. (I prefer a nice goat or extra sharp cheddar.) Delicate. That's what Mozart is - delicate. It's genius delicacy. The nuances. The repeating motifs, the flutters. So delicate. 

But, I am thankful for the Beethoven. And the piano. And the encore.

--

It's 1:30am. I return to the apartment. The door to the vegetarian restaurant is open, so I stop in. But the kitchen is already closed. In a flash, I think... they might have or know where to get Kombucha. I have gone a whole five days without the delish elixir. In my bad port0-spangelish I tell them about Kombucha. They have never heard of it. But now they know all about it! I may have just started the Madrid Kombucha fad.

--

I'm finishing writing these moments in the living room with new friends. We're laughing about the blow-up animals I brought. My LED changing cube is going on the table next to my jet-set painting. My bags are packed and I'll depart tomorrow morning. I've had a beautiful time in this city. And importantly, I found a personal completion. I am leaving whole. Complete. I am everything I need.

Dear Madrid, thank you for showing this Angelino a beautiful experience. I can't wait to have an excuse to return.

Sunset Return

It's been a gorgeous weekend. Perfect Los Angeles weather. Balmy. Breezy. I spent yesterday sitting in my front yard with Mr Dog, watching Sergio Leone Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns eating spaghetti. Toes in the grass. Cool breeze across my skin, inhaled deeply into my lungs. For hours.

--

Snaking through dark streets. Wilshire Boulevard always enchants me, construction be damned. Some kind of calmness as I navigate Highland. I keep wondering where/why/how my ambition has left me. Beyond the cocoon of my mom's protective embrace - her luxurious sedan. I've changed. 

--

Daytime. I'm in no hurry. I meander across the city mostly on Sunset. It's not the most direct route, but I'm feeling her Vanilla Sky. The journey is the destination... yet again. Calm in the moment. I know this feeling. It's been a long time since I've felt it this strong. Since I've felt this strong in it. It feels good. I know what it is. I know that I don't know what comes next.

I like this feeling. Because it means the jump is complete. I have landed. Anything is possible here.

 

The Surface is Misleading

Peugeot

I met him in high school Chemistry class. When I remembered this today, I laughed out loud. Top down, driving up Laurel Canyon in the evening commute traffic. My mind, my memories were elsewhere.

In the peugeot. His peugeot. 

Savoring our first kiss. He was driving. I believe I was sitting on his lap. Eyes closed, we "changed" at least 3 lanes. It's amazing we didn't crash. That first kiss. Such anticipation. Sweet fulfillment. 

I loved his car. It was a peugeot. Yeah, yeah, I know all the negative car comments about peugeots. I still loved it. I still love them.

I remember the fields out by the airport. Once his old riding team passed his car pulled over to the side. I don't know if he was embarrassed or proud. 

For a moment I wonder what he's like now, what he's doing. But really, I don't want to know. I want to remember him at 17. I want to remember that field at dusk. Our first kiss. The Cure in his basement. His haircut. The Jane's Addiction cassette tape.

He was fine. So so fine. What was my problem? I'm the one that fucked it up. What can you expect from a 16 year old girl?

Why this memory now? A few weeks ago, a red Peugeot was parked in the driveway of a house down the street. I didn't remember this then. But today. Tonight. As I drove into the valley, I savored the memories.

I'll never forget that field at dusk, with him, in his peugeot.

Poem

My Dad sent me this poem he wrote. I defintely got my love of philosophy from him.

Known

I was not at the beginning,
I will not be at the end.
There was a beginning,
There will be an end.
I know about the beginning
I know about the end.

I am aware of cosmic time.
Improbability is joy.
Understanding is happiness.
My life, part of infinity.
Meaningless . . . . ?
Not to me!

My favorite line in the poem is "Improbability is joy." 

Love and Shifting Awareness

 Most of last year was a practice of returning to the Path with Heart. This is a concept I learned while practicing the Art of Perception, which gives the freedom to consciously perceive the world. To identify, understand and break through societically structures, the beliefs forced on us. To consciously choose what beliefs and structures from which you perceive and live in this world. I've been practicing this since 1999 or 2000. My own history with this practice is the story for another day, for now, I have returned. 

And the return is so sweet. Beautiful. Full of love. An even deeper connection with the path with heart. I have no question I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Doing exactly what I am supposed to do/want to do/dream of doing.

I would like to invite you to join me to deepening your connection of/with love in order to shift your consciousness and change your life INSTANTLY!

Yes, you can change your life, your beliefs, any habit, in one moment. An eternal moment. 

Please join me in the practice below, by two of the most adept (and my personal favorite) teachers of Freedom, Aerin and Miles. Crossposted from their site, Being Energy.

 

How Do You Love?

Dear Being Energy Community: 

How do you Love? Where in your body do you find the feeling of Love?

We asked these questions and more in our first class of the new Path with Heart Series: “The Art of Moving the Assemblage Point: Jumping Grooves” as part of our exploration to assemble new perceptions and awareness.

Seers of ancient Mexico recognized that our ability to perceive the physical and the abstract occurs through a center of cohesion, which they called “the assemblage point.” They understood that we interpret the world through thought-feeling patterns that govern our behaviors and color our perceptions.

When the assemblage point shifts, we are able to transcend our usual states of consciousness to experience new levels of awareness. “Jumping grooves” is the shifting to new positions of the assemblage point. How we shift, by assembling our perception of ourselves and the world is an art that can be learned.

Don Juan told Carlos Castaneda one day, while hiking in the Sonoran desert that, “…we (human beings) are an awareness encased in our hearts”. LOVE or AFFECTION, as Carlos Castaneda preferred to call it, is a powerful unifying force that acts to bind our awareness, and it influences our physical, emotional and cognitive development. It is a guiding force that causes us to act intelligently, from confidence and it is one of the most powerful tools for moving the assemblage point.

The feeling of love, belonging, compassion, understanding, affection, fondness, warmth, care, friendship, tenderness, all of the above, can shift the assemblage point, can help us transcend fears, resentment, and pain.

Take action:
We continue in the upcoming classes to individually explore and to look in depth at the question, “HOW DO I LOVE?” It becomes a way that we can track how this force manifests in ourselves, in our day-to-day actions.

Specifically:

• Find three actions that you will do daily, this week that will become an expression, a manifestation of LOVE
• Notice how the consistent practice of these three actions will not only move your assemblage point, but also sustain that position of unconditional LOVE.

Join me in this practice of focused awareness of love.

Heather's Coconut Chocolate Chip Cookies

I adapted the traditional Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe for my brother Jody, who was visiting from Hawaii. It came out great!

• 1 cup Coconut Oil
• 1/2 cup Cane Sugar 
• 1/2 cup Turbino Sugar
• scant 3/4 cup unrefined brown sugar
• splash 1/2 and 1/2
• splash boiling water
• splash Vanilla (no Beaver taint) 
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 2 1/2+ cup flour
• Chocolate Chips
• Hand chopped chocolate bars (dark chocolate, milk chocolate - whatever you like)
• Chopped Walnuts
• Unsweetened Coconut Flakes
• Dried Cherries

Preheat oven to 350.

Measure out the coconut oil and mix in a mixer. Add the sugars and beat very well. After several minutes add the 1/2 and 1/2 (I use this for my coffee, so I just used a coffee splash, you could probably use coconut cream, coconut milk, soy, almond or regular milk) and blend. Then add the splash of boiling water and mix well. The boiling water should slightly dissolve the sugar crystals and coconut oil. Add the vanilla, salt and baking soda and beat very well. Then add the eggs and beat for 2-3-4 minutes. You really want to get everything mixed together here, because you don't want to mix as much when you add the flour. Then add the 2 1/2 cups flour - mixing as little/lightly as you can get away with. I usually hand mix in the final 1/2 cup.

Then add the chocolate chips, nuts and all the other goodies that you want.

Refrigerate the dough for 15-30 minutes (go do something). 

Then bake for 9 minutes - leave on the cookie sheet outside the oven for another 2 minutes for not so crispy cookies. Bake for 12 minutes - 2 min on cookie sheet outside the oven.

Let cool and then take them in your mouth!

 

The Depeche

I love Depeche Mode. And the Cure. And Morrisey... among lots of other alt 90s music. So this mix of Depeche and The Cure is sooooo beautiful. Thanks for my friend Marco Bevolo.

It's so good!

 

Part of Hollywood

It's a "normal" night out in Hollywood with the Cacophony Society. Me and my friends are dressed in Banana Costumes - in celebration of V-Day. The Cacophony Society is a random group of free spirits in search of and creation of unusual temporary experiences. 

We start at Hooters (a place I have only attended in some costume), then make our way down Hollywood Blvd. I tried to convince Batman to become Bat Banana and come along with us, but neither of them had the balls. Marilyn, however did sing along with us to Peanut Butter Jelly Time. 

Zombie Banana, Marilyn, Sparkle Banana and Cholo Banana. 

So we're walking down the Boulevard, stopping at my favorite Hollywood drinking holes. Boardners. We meander down Cahuenga to the Burgundy Room. I love this bar for it's Mask of the Red Death lighting. I step into the bar, and a woman with wings turns to me, stands up and gives me a big hug. She says to her friends, "These are the Santacon people." I try to brush this off, but Cupid looks me straight in the eye and says, "I know who you are Heather!" BUSTED!

So I walk into the darkest bar in Hollywood, wearing a banana suit and am immediately recognized by Cupid? Yes! 

This isn't the first time I have been "recognized." But I did not expect to be recognized in a Sparkle Banana costume! When I think about this, it amuses me to no end. I believe I've finally become part of the fabric of Hollywood. I hope my thread weaves sparkles wide and deep. 

Nights like this is why I love Los Angeles, and she shows her love back to me.