Autumn is my enemy. She ever runs away from me.
But I am drawn like muddy bath to her neglectful side.
Perfumed of shameless freedom. Drops of oil behind her ear.
Reeks of the unattainable - scented torment, Stinking Dear.
No loyalty, Angel Whore. No cage (I've tried!) keeps her down.
No gift, no charm diverts her attention.
When all I want is just one glance. One wild kiss, her magick bless.
One sweet taste and I could become
your equal
and meet you soaring - I promise!
But hers is Medussa's gaze.
And I am stone, again.
I wish to forget what is missing. I wish to unlearn how empty I am.
I'd rather I'd never seen your dark face, yet I have
and now I know simplicity's end:
always Autumn leaves.
Happydale, MI
Stone, Again
Stone, Again
October 31, 2004
Chicago, IL
Autumn Leaves
Autumn Leaves
October 28, 2004
The autumn leaves drift by my window.
The autumn leaves of red and gold.
I see your lips, the summer kisses,
the sunburned hands I used to hold.
Since you went away, the days grow long.
And soon I'll hear old winter's song.
But I miss you most of all, my darling,
when autumn leaves start to fall.
The autumn leaves of red and gold.
I see your lips, the summer kisses,
the sunburned hands I used to hold.
Since you went away, the days grow long.
And soon I'll hear old winter's song.
But I miss you most of all, my darling,
when autumn leaves start to fall.
Chicago, IL
Mapping the Mind
Mapping the Mind
October 17, 2004
Cognitive reconditioning has transformed my life.
About a year ago, in the middle of crisis, I trained my brain - crisis always being the ideal time for such exploits. The confused, chaotic mind is a cinch to imprint - just ask psychotherapists, kidnappers and the government. In essence, I systematically brainwashed my own vulnerable mind.
Breaking down to break through.
So there I was one year ago, alone and confined to bed. Drifting in and out of that state yogis, magickians and infants know so well; where one's brain waves are a unique combination of REM Theta and Meditative Alpha; a place some call lucid dreaming, others hypnosis, but in my personal desperate state, the words comatose delirium seem a bit more apt. Whatever you call it, every time I found myself Lewis Clarking the wild frontiers of conscious hallucination, I repeated a short little phrase.
It literally was as simple as that.
And now a full year later, I am flabbergasted at how complete my self-brainwashing was. For every morning, when I glide through that same Alpha/Theta state naturally, like each and every one of us warm egg blurry eyed rousing from sleep do, there it is: my phrase - independent of conscious thought and so deeply imprinted that it has changed my reality at a subatomic level. I literally have become my phrase. It has changed the way my heart pumps blood, the way I hold my posture, and the way I perceive my surroundings by inserting itself unconsciously as the first thought each day; "I Love myself. I love my life".
Cognitive reconditioning; just another simple and effective technique for shaping one's reality according to one's Will.
The mind's entire purpose to make a map of your world, so you can navigate, communicate and function in life. If you don't make the imprints, society, authorities or television will. Whose phrases do you wake up to?
About a year ago, in the middle of crisis, I trained my brain - crisis always being the ideal time for such exploits. The confused, chaotic mind is a cinch to imprint - just ask psychotherapists, kidnappers and the government. In essence, I systematically brainwashed my own vulnerable mind.
Breaking down to break through.
So there I was one year ago, alone and confined to bed. Drifting in and out of that state yogis, magickians and infants know so well; where one's brain waves are a unique combination of REM Theta and Meditative Alpha; a place some call lucid dreaming, others hypnosis, but in my personal desperate state, the words comatose delirium seem a bit more apt. Whatever you call it, every time I found myself Lewis Clarking the wild frontiers of conscious hallucination, I repeated a short little phrase.
It literally was as simple as that.
And now a full year later, I am flabbergasted at how complete my self-brainwashing was. For every morning, when I glide through that same Alpha/Theta state naturally, like each and every one of us warm egg blurry eyed rousing from sleep do, there it is: my phrase - independent of conscious thought and so deeply imprinted that it has changed my reality at a subatomic level. I literally have become my phrase. It has changed the way my heart pumps blood, the way I hold my posture, and the way I perceive my surroundings by inserting itself unconsciously as the first thought each day; "I Love myself. I love my life".
Cognitive reconditioning; just another simple and effective technique for shaping one's reality according to one's Will.
The mind's entire purpose to make a map of your world, so you can navigate, communicate and function in life. If you don't make the imprints, society, authorities or television will. Whose phrases do you wake up to?
Happydale, MI
Queen Dirt
Queen Dirt
October 11, 2004
Purple as 3 am sky, the nite you just want to be alone. But there she is, in that velvet coat - a cross between royalty and heathen.
In from out of town - is she visiting or returning home? Autumn falls in love with cities, romancing the world. Could she ever feel that way about you?
She is fog, you must enter to understand. You must blur vision, must not look ahead. And when you reach the center, when you are surrounded by confusion, when you are utterly alone, then you are together.
Purple velvet 3 am.
In from out of town - is she visiting or returning home? Autumn falls in love with cities, romancing the world. Could she ever feel that way about you?
She is fog, you must enter to understand. You must blur vision, must not look ahead. And when you reach the center, when you are surrounded by confusion, when you are utterly alone, then you are together.
Purple velvet 3 am.
Raw Restaurant Review - Taste of the Goddess Cafe
Hollywood, CA
Pretty Good Religion
Hollywood, CA
Pretty Good Religion
October 05, 2004
This city is a movie set - an ice cream truck facade chiming down the street, drawing all the starry eyed children to its door, only to serve them rubber grapes. Clothing is costuming worn to create the image one thinks is in demand. Personalities are cheap accessories with lots of glitter, but exchanged three times a day. Even the housing is disposable, made to be exploited and discarded into the urban sprawl of extravagance. Los Angeles, CA: you gotta love it for what it is.
A very Hollywood friend of mine, Geoff, had an epiphany the last time we were together. He said, "The strangest thing, Tonya Kay: I notice when a raw foodist talks to you, they look you straight in the eye" (italics added to emphasize Geoff's emphasis). He is certainly correct in this observation. In fact, I can always tell a raw foodist from a cooked food eater by three things: the bright, hydrated, youthful glow to their skin, their passionate love affair with life, and the clarity and presence of their gaze. It is uncanny. And a trait the majority of glittery ice cream truck industry hopefuls populating southern California simply do not possess.
I always say that if you can judge a religion by the people it puts out, then Raw Veganism is one of the greatest; filled with optimistic, healthy, earth conscious people who are absolutely in love with life. For 6 weeks this summer, Brendan Brazier and I toured the United States and Canada's health conferences, raw festivals and vegetarian fairs and were surrounded by the support and love of the tight raw community. Returning to Los Angeles was quite a brick wall in contrast. I wanted to ask everyone I saw, the guy in the BMW convertible, the centerfold with the push up bra, "What's so wrong, guys?"
Face it; life is good! And now - finally - all my discombobulated rays of Los Angeles sunshine, we have a place of refuge right in Hollywood where you can look someone deeply in the eyes and feed your body all the colors of the rainbow: the Taste of the Goddess Cafe on Santa Monica Blvd.. The cafe was opened in July 2004 by two young women whose hands now personally prepare the fare, and is host to raw support groups, health education classes and quite possibly the perfect salad: arame, dulse, nori, cucumber, clover sprouts and avocado atop romaine lettuce with a sesame dressing.
I actually ordered next to a celebrity on my first visit to the Taste of the Goddess Cafe - a blond guy with a nasal voice who is famous enough that even this non-television-watcher is aware that he has his own show, though I couldn't tell you for the life of me what his name is and am not interested enough to figure it out. What I do know however, is that he, myself and an overwhelming number of people on the movie set are including more raw foods into their diets, discovering an elevated level of health, and are falling so in love with nature's religion that we simply can not be bothered with puffed up pasta or greasy skin potato chips ever again.
Raw Vegan Book of Genesis: Rubber grapes beget rubber grapes. Life begets life.
A very Hollywood friend of mine, Geoff, had an epiphany the last time we were together. He said, "The strangest thing, Tonya Kay: I notice when a raw foodist talks to you, they look you straight in the eye" (italics added to emphasize Geoff's emphasis). He is certainly correct in this observation. In fact, I can always tell a raw foodist from a cooked food eater by three things: the bright, hydrated, youthful glow to their skin, their passionate love affair with life, and the clarity and presence of their gaze. It is uncanny. And a trait the majority of glittery ice cream truck industry hopefuls populating southern California simply do not possess.
I always say that if you can judge a religion by the people it puts out, then Raw Veganism is one of the greatest; filled with optimistic, healthy, earth conscious people who are absolutely in love with life. For 6 weeks this summer, Brendan Brazier and I toured the United States and Canada's health conferences, raw festivals and vegetarian fairs and were surrounded by the support and love of the tight raw community. Returning to Los Angeles was quite a brick wall in contrast. I wanted to ask everyone I saw, the guy in the BMW convertible, the centerfold with the push up bra, "What's so wrong, guys?"
Face it; life is good! And now - finally - all my discombobulated rays of Los Angeles sunshine, we have a place of refuge right in Hollywood where you can look someone deeply in the eyes and feed your body all the colors of the rainbow: the Taste of the Goddess Cafe on Santa Monica Blvd.. The cafe was opened in July 2004 by two young women whose hands now personally prepare the fare, and is host to raw support groups, health education classes and quite possibly the perfect salad: arame, dulse, nori, cucumber, clover sprouts and avocado atop romaine lettuce with a sesame dressing.
I actually ordered next to a celebrity on my first visit to the Taste of the Goddess Cafe - a blond guy with a nasal voice who is famous enough that even this non-television-watcher is aware that he has his own show, though I couldn't tell you for the life of me what his name is and am not interested enough to figure it out. What I do know however, is that he, myself and an overwhelming number of people on the movie set are including more raw foods into their diets, discovering an elevated level of health, and are falling so in love with nature's religion that we simply can not be bothered with puffed up pasta or greasy skin potato chips ever again.
Raw Vegan Book of Genesis: Rubber grapes beget rubber grapes. Life begets life.
