Search This Blog

8/26/2022

Field

 

So cool. I posted this on social media, and I asked people what they saw in this. I received these answers:  "the best roller coaster ever," "bird/duck looking left," "Pepe Le Pew," "symphonic music with lots of harmonies and violin melody," "lots of hearts," "hair," "or maybe a sink hole drawing everything to the center," "I see a pretty butterfly," "music cymbals," "a bunch of hearts and a person pulling a fishing net up," "chives," and, "wiry hair or hairy wiring." 

I saw hearts, music, a face with glasses, and the word, "soon," among other things. :) <3 It was so much fun for me to read the comments about one little photo. And it was so much fun to see all of the perspectives, which added to mine. Thanks!

C.A. MacConnell

8/24/2022

From the Hawk

A poem from the POV of the hawk. Hope you like it. Have a great day, C.A.

From the Hawk

Time. Some feathers fall out. It happens.
My eyes are rolling now. Got poked
by some twigs. Robin took
my branch, but he won't be there tomorrow,
which is three minutes away.
There. Mine. Now.
Neck.
Achy.
Twitchy.
Mad. All day, looking backwards,
I've been grooming out the bad,
making way for the new.
Belly's rough too.
Hope the boy one doesn't look up here.
He looked.
He cocked his head left, which means me.
Left is my secret smile from his away place.
He's got a voice to kill. Always in the pine.
Even when the sky is white, I know he's there.
Come evening, he'll leave the needles
and fly to the thick, tricky pole.
Lookout.
There, he's taller, but so skinny.
Gave him the chipmunk yesterday.
Together four years now—since the day my Mom got caught on the wire.
A fast flyer, she was.
Wasn't her mistake.
Storms rolled in, making scary sparks.
Old Crow told Mother not to glide so close, but she wanted the fat
mole, and everyone knows it was for me. They still screech about it.
Now most fliers want to help and bring me a frog or two.
My eyes still make me look mean about it all, but the boy one thinks the yellow is all right,
and I guess I love
building the nest. When I'm too tired to fly,
I use the wind, which is sometimes helpful.
Soon, he'll come at me in the air again, but I like him.
He always comes back.
We lost one baby last year. She fell, and before I could claw her up,
the dog was there.
After, I wouldn't stop picking at everything. I admit
that the reddest part of my tail
hasn't recovered.
We have three in the nest this year.
Next week, I'll let them go.
I showed them how to rise up and stay
in the cold,
high part, where it's safe.
I see something moving.
A quarter mile.
I'd tell the boy one, but he'll hear me coming, and he'll already
know.
Now, higher. I stop beating
and glide.
I stop
to thank the sky for the sky,
because even the blue birds know that God
spreads out across the air, and those wings cover all that we see,
even the vultures,
who will one day become
what they eat.
If she wants to, God can fly next to the sun without burning.
Enough of the boy one and being wise.
Planning the dive.
Mouse, you have it coming to you.

C.A. MacConnell

8/21/2022

Untitled

 


Kinda strange, but I dig it for some reason. Love, C.A. MacConnell

F'n Rad Free Dance.

Back in 1998-9, I worked at a health food store in Virginia. It was a privately owned, high maintenance, cultish, superbly organized place, and I have no idea how I got the job because I had no experience, and I was newly sober, and I wasn’t feeling well in the head at all, I might add, which made it a true adventure, since I suddenly morphed into a wild hippie – not shaving, all natural everything, and ironically, very high maintenance. Anyway, being the extremist that I was, I was soon so obsessed with ingredients that it took me all fucking day to shop.

Suddenly, when it came to food, cleaners, and detergent, I had to be 100% pure. And the "pure" criteria changed daily, because each day, I'd add to my "bad ingredients" list. Sure, I've always had trouble with the “happy medium” idea, but at that time, it was extreme. And then I created an entire recycling center inside my one-bedroom apartment. I had so much recycling that I had nothing else in the apartment except for an egg crate cushion, one chair, and a tiny, antique desk. That’s it. Anyway, I became so obsessed and spent so much time studying labels while shopping that even though I turned into an absolute expert, I got fired.

Actually, I probably got fired because one day at work I asked my coworker this:  “Hey, do you know of some kind of aromatherapy that helps out with racing thoughts? My mind is in fuckin’ overdrive!” That’s right, I really said that. In front of customers. So, my coworker simply looked at me weirdly, shook her head, and picked up the phone, and in case any readers were wondering...yes, the call was about me.

After my short adventure at the health food store, living solely by spiritual books, such as The Celestine Prophecy, as well as a gazillion nutrition-based texts, I became so excited and intrigued when I met this medicine woman who only had one name, like Madonna. She was rad, and she loved my “quirky” personality, so she introduced me to her secret society of “Free Dance.” On Friday nights, a secret group of strangers got together at some random, vacant house, and she turned some music on, and we “danced out” the way we felt. Like therapeutic movement, only there was no real therapist there. Just a bunch of strange hippies dancing out feelings. We were ultra-serious about it at the time, but thinking back, I’m sure it looked like a circus. Actually, it was fun as hell…for most of us…

See, there was this one girl who was kinda down I guess, because she spent the whole dance night curled up in a little ball on the floor. That was her dance – some kind of never-ending, weird, slow-mo somersault. Every single week, she curled up in this ball, so I’m not sure if the Free Dance was helping her. My dance was pretty intriguing. Kind of a mix between some stoned-out hippie crossed with a hip hop act crossed with a kangaroo crossed with a spider crossed with someone who just got electrocuted. Really, my Free Dance was no different than my regular dancing, to tell the truth.

Maybe I’ll start a Free Dance class around here -- get a boom box, some old used CDs, and find some warehouse. I might be the only one attending. Just me, some Dead Can Dance, a candle, a variety of incense, and…I’d write more, but I have to Free Dance to the kitchen and study ingredients. I may return, I may not.

C.A. MacConnell

8/16/2022

3 in 1

 



Ha, not the greatest shot of it, but it made my heart sing, so I shared it anyway. Love, C.A. MacConnell

Runoff

 



C.A. MacConnell

8/09/2022

Photos: Sides.

 

My Side


Your Side



Our Side

Here's a little collection I took yesterday. Hope you like it. XO. Have a good day.

C.A. MacConnell

8/07/2022

F'n Rad! Buttface and the Wolf Man

A while back, I was teaching yoga, and it was a good-sized class, like 20 people. It went so smooth. I really felt in the zone. Well, when it came time for deep relaxation, it was nice and quiet in there, so I turned the music off and went back to stretch out on my mat and relax with everyone. Well…

Right at that moment, when everyone had their eyes closed, this guy came barreling into the room with his headphones on, and he decided to lift some weights. Since he had those headphones on, he didn’t know he was breathing so loud that it sounded like he was having some rough sex for a long, long time. We could all hear it. I mean, it was so loud.

I kept thinking, I wish he would get off already. I smirked. Then I opened my eyes, and I looked up at one client who was giggling, and I just lost my shit. Then all 20 people started cracking up, and the guy was still breathing and breathing like a horse, absolutely oblivious to the class that was supposed to be going on.

THEN, when everyone was sitting up, I looked over, and the guy was leaving the room, and I saw that the back of his shirt, in big, tattoo-style letters, no lie, read this: “Buttface.” I started laughing again and told everyone what it said, and they started laughing again. Then I said “Namaste.” That’s how I ended the class.

If I would’ve thought quicker, during the relaxation, I would’ve gone up to the dude and said, “Hey, Buttface, can you keep it down? I have a class going on here.” But alas, I wasn’t quick enough. Next time, next time.

…then, later, I was on my way to meet and interview the band, Shiny and the Spoon, when I looked out my car window and saw a man wearing a wolf. I am not joking – it was a dead wolf, the whole damn thing. The wolf head was intact, sitting on top of the man’s head, and the body and legs hung down the man’s back, swinging while he walked. It was the most disgusting thing, and I was like, Dude, where the fuck are the animal rights activists on this one? Wolf man, for real. Is that even legal, ‘cause it was so unpolitically correct it was amusing. I have never seen anything like it, not in this century.

I told Shiny and the Spoon about the wolf man and the legs swinging all disgustingly, and they got a kick out of it, but we were all like, what the hell. Tomorrow, I’m expecting to see someone in a white tiger suit, blood and guts and all. Where is PETA when we need them? I was dumbfounded.

Anyway, heavily breathing buttfaces and wolf men from outta nowhere make for a bizarre week. I’m off to go breathe heavily on someone, then kill a deer with my bare hands and wear it as a parka, hooves and cute little nose and all.

C.A. MacConnell

8/06/2022

Net

 


C.A. MacConnell

F'n Rad Follower: Marvin

Some years back, on a day when the sun made street change shine, I was in a long car wash line, so I kicked back until I felt a slight nose itch. I reached up to scratch it and take care of the problem right then and there. I thought it would be a quick gesture, an easy fix. Well, when I scratched, I also discovered that there was a rather large piece of snot hanging out of one side of my nose. I looked in the rear-view mirror, checking out the damage. Oh yeah, that wormy goo was visible for the world to see. Yes, I made the reach for it, and I admit I had to dig a little. Finally, after several minutes, I became a success story. All good. So I thought...

Smiling, proud of my victory, when I came to and looked back around at the scenery, I realized two things:

1. The car wash line had moved quite a bit while I was busy doing my business, and I needed to rock and roll forward before someone rear-ended my ass.

AND

2. While I was digging in my nose, my car was sitting right next to a part of the building where there was a large window. The thing was there so that all of the customers could look out at the cars. Like mine.

When I looked at the window, squinting through the smudges and fingerprints, I saw a mysterious man waving at me. A huge hand. A sweeping wave. Then I studied the face. Glasses, big smile, tall, black hair, bright and handsome. At one time, he and his wife were my yoga students, and they were family friends. We'll call him Marvin. In class, he cracked everyone up, because he never really liked yoga; he just did it because his knee was bothering him, and he couldn't ride his bike.

Turning pink, I waved back, gripping my steering wheel. I thought, How long has he been standing there? Did he see me pick that shit out of my nose? I shuffled, no, I scooted to pay while my car went through the whole vacuum/wash deal. I hoped that Marvin wasn't still there when my car's turn came up.

But he was there all right. Good old Marvin stared me right down. He started waving at me again.

Cautiously, I approached the outside waiting area.

And there was Marvin, right next to me, smiling wide. Perhaps chuckling a little.

I decided to assume the best. But it was the "not knowing" that was killing me. I thought, Should I bring it up? I examined his every move.

He twitched his brows some. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He smiled a lot. But Marvin always smiled a lot.

I couldn't figure it out. Did he see? It was maddening. I was getting worn out.

Right before Marvin turned to leave, he looked back at me and gave me this flash of teeth. A big, sparkling flash, like one of those Orbit gum commercials.

I had my answer. I knew he saw. I knew it.

Without another word, he hopped in his car and drove away.

...sometime later
I was teaching at a new facility and right during the middle of class, I sneaked out to run to the bathroom. I'd had numerous Mountain Dews that day, so it was more of a painful dance-run. A ridiculous jog of sorts. You get the drift. Well, on my way out of that bathroom, I saw a mysterious man. The huge hand. The sweeping wave. Then I studied the face. Glasses, big smile, tall, black hair, bright and handsome. There he was again. Marvin. Fresh from knee surgery, he was still wearing a brace, doing some arm exercises. Or did he follow me? Was his goal in life to always be there when I was doing something sneaky or stupid? I really wasn't sure. Was he some kind of "catch you in the act" policeman?

How much did he see? I studied his every move. It was maddening. Right before I went back into the yoga room, I looked back at Marvin, my follower, who gave me this flash of teeth. A big, sparkling flash, like his mouth was full of firecrackers. He chuckled.

I knew he saw. I knew it.

...three years later
Just a few weeks ago, I was up north, on a bike trail, in the middle of a benefit walk. There were a few turnarounds, but I wasn't paying attention, and I kept going and going, because I was talking to my sister on the phone, and I got distracted. So, on the way back, I was like, Man, I'm tired. I thought I'd power-walked like four miles, but later I realized that I was about 8 miles in at that point, and I still wasn't back. Anyway, it was about 90 degrees out, 90% humidity, and I was sweating through my sweating and basically wearing sweat, so much so that it was even impossible to read the non-profit message on my t-shirt, which was the whole point of the walk. Of course I was alone, and I had no water, no food, but I was still trooping along, swinging my arms like a champ. Even if I were dying, I'd probably try to keep on walking, I am so stubborn. I'm sure I looked like a ridiculous Iron Woman gone wrong and when I looked up, I saw two bicycles coming at me from the other direction. (Keep in mind that I had never been to this bike path before).

And then I saw a mysterious man waving at me. The huge hand. A sweeping wave. Then I looked up at the face. Glasses, big smile, tall, black hair, bright and handsome. There he was. Catching me when I was down again, waving and waving, riding that bike down the path with an easy breeze, equipped with a buddy, a bunch of snacks, and a full set of water bottles on his belt, yep, there he was -- Marvin.

Shaking my sweaty head, I waved back.

And then, taking a swig of his little energy drink, knee all healed, doing what he loved to do, Marvin easily swooshed on by.

Moral of the story: When life puts up roadblocks, be a Marvin. Also, always bring snacks.

C.A. MacConnell

8/01/2022

Prayer Request

Last night, I got kidnapped.
I was trapped
inside a hot

sanctuary.
I was shifty
in the church pew –
a cramped place
I have never called home.

Last night, I got lucky.
I discovered
a blank stack

of prayer request paper.
Three by five,
I drew you wearing suns.
I’ve never seen you like this,
but that's the way I always

picture you.
I drew me next to you.
I was reaching

for your middle.
I drew a taller me –
wild-haired,
stick hands nearly touching
the place where your belt

should be.
My fingers got lost
between your loops.

I've never seen me like this,
but the pencil made me
a lead-grey, dipping,
V-necked dress.
Your mouth

was a line.
My mouth
was a circle.

C.A. MacConnell