People who experience jealousy have been mispronouncing its name.

I, too, can focus so intently on one person that I see only the beauty that makes them specifically them: No one else tucks his chin in and smiles a smile that makes women simultaneously want to rip his shirt off or provide a teat for his suckling child mouth but him. No one else can do sit ups every third day and have sleek, falling stomach sloping subtlely into his belt line like that. No one else seems that blessed - like nothing jaded or dark or insecure could ever penetrate his existence. Like everything he touches melts towards his hands - hands that should hold a chisel and hammer so skilled they are at touch, or good god, be sculpted like the masterpiece they are themselves.

How is one supposed to feel next to that? Like I am trying too hard and getting too shy results. I see myself as forever youthful and limitlessly athletic and relaxed through a nite of deep, lucid sleep. Everything he already is.

Yes, I too, know this thing we mistakenly call envy, but I have always pronounced it 'love'. In fact, the way I see it, they feel exactly the same. When I see it like that.

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This is where raw food and magick augment. Magick being the conscious manifestation of your will. First you must Know Thy Will.

Know Thyself, raw foodist, and understand that calling upon the Air Gods to deliver you safely to Brooklyn is powerful magick. And so is buying a single ride Metro card at the automated kiosk. Both effective magick.

So in my search to understand my true will so I can manifest it at all, I have mostly discovered that what I truly desire, at the base of everything, is to experience elation, unfaltering health, and Love with a capitol letter. Eating raw food therefore is the ultimate act of reality manipulation - of conscious manifestation - of powerful magick I have ever embarked upon.


I choose to believe in health. I choose to believe I innately and effortlessly see a path to health. I begin walking the path to health. I become healthy; my skin becomes clear and actually radiates a visibly alive glow. My mind grows outward in conceptual, communal thought. Odd pains and consistent complaints finally resolve themselves. I feel good. I like how I look. I attract others experiencing the same reality. My life really is of higher quality. Raw food, as a magickal system, works. And let's face it; magick isn't a religion. It is a method of reality manipulation. If it serves it is valuable. If it doesn't create what you wish to experience, it is discarded for something that does. Magick has no room for dogma nor tradition.

So I see people becoming healthy. I see astute magickians creating themselves in a world of elated, unfaltering health and Love simply by eating fruits, vegetables, nuts and seeds that have not been tampered with my heat. Like every other species of life on this planet. We are the only that tamper with fire. Please ... what happens when you add fire to the house you live in? It burns down. It is not a house any more. It turns to something new: acidic ash. The same happens with fire and say, ... food. Perhaps we are impressing upon our children how our bodies really are the ingredients we give them. The cupcake is eggs, sugar, milk and artificial flavors. The carrot juice is organic. There is no wrong way to build a body. The body will build. But mine is going to be constructed with only the highest quality ingredients. This is not a discount body.

I see people becoming healthy, reaching their vitality goals, effectively manipulating their world to the world they wish it to be and then I see them retract. Just a bit. Not back to their previous incarnation as a coffee drinker or anything: with crusties in their eyes in the morning (people, this is detox and not "normal"), with dull skin and obsessive thoughts surrounding their diets. Let's face it; being open minded is what got us here - we could see so far outside the box, that we went against everything our world knows and shows, and started eating raw vegan food. So why do we become closed minded once we get here? The reason is because we have put faith in the magickal system that got us here. We created a dogma, a rule, out of eating raw food, "Raw food makes me healthy" specifically, then we get attached to that system, making it a dogma, and then we become rigid, unable to grow, and focused more on why we feel badly than why we feel great anymore.

Let me suggest at this point (and you do have to go there to get here, so no rush - just take your time) - let me suggest that you are healthy, noncontingent upon food. It is your pure, natural state. it is your birthright. It is easy to feel good all the time. That's what humans are made to do. Any diversion from that is not an expression of your purpose and natural state as a human being. So get out of the way with your habits and let yourself be as great as you are meant to be!

Don't eat raw food because it will make you healthy. Eat raw food because the flavors are stimulating, the colors are brilliant, the textures alive, the nutrients satisfying - eat raw food because it gives you joy. Elation is, I'm pretty sure, part of being healthy. Eating raw food is useful magick.

Know thy will.

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Seven tour busses pull up to United States customs at 3 a.m.. They are returning from Canada to their home country. Customs officers insist that each of the tour bus residents (Because let's face it; these tour buses are our homes - playing a new city nightly, we don't get hotels. We sleep in a coffin sized bunk - the best money can buy - while we travel to the next city. But a bunk with a #1-only on-board potty, while certainly romantic, is not in any way mistakable for a king sized bed in an actual home. Which is what I am looking forward to. Which is what is waiting for me in less than two weeks) - customs officers insist that each resident rise and actually go into the security building to have their passports scanned and their criminal histories checked. At 3 a.m.. It is far harder to get into your own country (when your country is the U.S.) than it is a foreign one.

I wish the Canadian/United States boarders would open up and we could freely move/work/trade with our neighbors to the North.

Sound designer, lighting rigger, company manager, bass player – all puffy eyed and in decorative p.j. bottoms, slip on shoes, a still-buzzed and grouchy face here and there, but mostly a motley crew of grungy touring rock-n-roll lifestylers who just loaded out a fantastic show in Vancouver BC and enjoyed a fine night partying together, swapping tour busses for a few hours until “we roll. There were silly fireworks brought from Iowa and there are always dancers (specifically 6 – yes, 6 professional dancers, of whom I am one, on this rock-n-roll tour). As long as someone is dancing, it's a party. Invite the dancers. Our lives are a party.

Problem is, my passport has a long, red haired Midwestern looking chick, similar to myself only in a cat-who-did-it kinda smile and well-positioned eyebrow piercings. And Vancouver is recording record snow. We all make it through customs and are shoed back to our beds. But the bus, nor the tour sponsor, Dave, make it across the ice. One moment he was up and just as quick as the sun rises over Manhattan, he was flat on his ass. It must have hurt. Maybe it hurt his pride more than anything.

And in another 2 hours, we will pull into Seattle, WA (my home town - at least that's what my driver's license says. And I will try to sleep, though lately it's been difficult. I have from 11pm to the following day 7pm to catch some zzzz's, but wouldn't you know I'm up. I'm a light sleeper/recovering insomniac. This whole tour thing again, is really my growth point for deeper sleep, you know. This is my chance to really get over it once and for all.


Of course, in San Jose, CA (after Seattle, WA) I will see a man who fits perfectly. I have been counting days since 8 days ago. He comes over to play like childhood best friend and crosses the world to care for me the way a grown man wants to take care of a woman. He wants to be the only one to take care of me. Even though we both know I don’t need taken care of. I'm pretty sure I won't sleep on the bus tonite.

So deliciously romantic is the touring artist's almost-full-moon, traveling winter nite.

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