Author: Denise

(Saturday, May 17, 2014)  Lola likes to go outside very early, before sunrise, to hunt for mice. I let her out the front door this morning and crawled back in bed. I was lying on my left side, facing the wall and the window. After awhile I felt the bed shake gently and heard the rapid, light scratching she does when she wants attention: she retracts her claws and leans forward on her haunches, making almost a swimming motion with her front paws.

I thought maybe Chris had let her in, but when I turned to look over the edge of the bed she wasn’t there. I went to the door and she was waiting for me.

The hypnagogic state between waking and dream sometimes holds sounds and physical sensations for me. I think of the hall at Rolduc (marching feet) and at the Virginia Beach hotel (African party).

(Saturday, May 17, 2014)  Wednesday was the Wesak Full Moon, a day sacred to Buddhism marking the birth, enlightenment and death of the the Buddha. The full moon in Taurus falls in Scorpio.

At the end of my morning meditation I had the sensation of all the animals on earth coming up from behind me, flowing through me, moving in love and reverence toward the light of the Buddha. Paying their deepest respects.

Earlier in the meditation an odd and potent little earth deva appeared to me. The spirit looked very much like some of my weird clay creations.

(Sunday, April 27, 2014) My birthday. Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom HaShoah) 2014 begins in the evening of Sunday, April 27 and ends in the evening of Monday, April 28. Solar eclipse is April 29.

I am Michelle Obama. My companion and I plan to board the Queen Mary but my father, a kind and protective soul, doesn’t want us to go, so we have to sneak onto the ship. I am Michelle and I am my companion, Denise.

The ship with her distinctive black hull is anchored about half a mile out from a busy English beach, not in a sheltered bay. There is a precarious, narrow pier made of sail, strips of yellow and red fabric (yellow for the right foot, red for the left), that zig zags out to the ship. When we first approach, the waves are roiling. It’s not safe to board. We need to evade my father, who is searching for us, so we duck into a large pavilion at the edge of the beach.

This historic, grey stone building is full of small rooms with wide iron gates for doors. The gates are medieval and ornate. I think they are prison doors from the Tower of London. But the doors are not locked, they are open and welcoming. We slip into one of the rooms to wait for the sea to calm. My father doesn’t find us, in spite of the open chambers.

We head back out to the beach. The waves have stilled and people are making their way to the cruise ship. Denise and I follow them. I am holding a small, lidded ceramic vessel. It is extremely precious. I hold it protectively, near my heart, one hand on top, one hand on the bottom.