Marfa Manifestation

27 04 2021

So my first night spent in Lil’ Pinky was so serene! I sat at my little diner table with some wine and felt completely happy and at peace. I started to wish I could stay another day, but what would that entail? I’ve made a ferry reservation to get the car to Nantucket, I may have shave time elsewhere. What about Austin would I skip it? I started to obsess over the whole thing. This wasn’t a responsible decision to suddenly add a day. I kept googling different options, but then I stopped.

Jasmine’s words echoed in my head. Pause, listen to your gut, don’t over analyze. So I decided I’d see if Pinky was available and if so I’d stay and figure the details out later. And I began again to be present and enjoy my night there rather than obsessing over next steps.

I had a very restful sleep despite the mournful trains that roll by. They didn’t really bother me at all. I woke to the bright dawn and a cacaphony of birds and mourning doves. I eased into my day with my usual routine, three rounds of Wim Hof breathing, then writing my three The Artists Waymorning pages and then shower followed by a cold shower although for some reason I couldn’t get the hot water to work and rather than fuss around just took an exhilarating cold shower. I lounged around in my room in the gorgeous green serape fabric robe and enjoyed writing my blog. I eventually got a coffee and was trying to upload the blog photos and the videos weren’t working, so I decided to go to town. I thought maybe I’d mail some of the spices home so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by them on the next few legs.

Marfa is literally so tiny that I passed the USPS a few times finding myself at the town building and getting all turned around, then Google tells you to go around the block rather than just U-turn. Seems like I needed to get off my phone and just look around instead of trying to be guided. Got a shipping box and some stamps and went to the grocery where I was thrilled to find my favorite Mexican mineral water, Topo Chico, and picked up some Zapp’s crawtater chips, my favorite New Orleans chips!

Tried to go to a thrift store but it seemed closed. Googled consignment stores and found only one open. Started to look for lunch and nothing was open, yelped, googled etc. and found myself at a loss. Looks like I could go to the Waterstop again or Marfa burritos. I liked Waterstop and the atmosphere, but I had all sorts of excuses not to go.

Too windy, it’s probably the same menu as dinner which was good but pricey, I hate going to the same place twice while traveling, etc. the brain was processing overtime and I literally felt my car being nudged over as I was passing a d found myself parked in the same space as the night prior. I said at loud to myself, “OK I guess we’re going here!”

I went into the restaurant to grab a menu and was delighted to find it was pink and a totally different menu than dinner. I figured I’d try to do some writing later so out of character while on “vacation” I didn’t have beer or wine but I got a green lemonade. Had cucumber and herbs in it, pretty tasty. I opted fir the 1/4 roasted chicken and some fries because I wanted to see how they were with the tahini sauce they mentioned, and the chicken and fries came out fast. This $9 plate was huge and beautifully adorned with watermelon radishes. All in pink and green hues.

Meanwhile a gentleman had sauntered in and sat at a four top behind me. It was still pretty empty, before noon. There was something immediately familiar about his voice to me, as if I knew it really well. It kind of sounded melodious like Cee Lo Green, but it was also the banter that intrigued me. He was talking about the pink Supermoon, grounding and manifestation. At one point I couldn’t help but turn and look over my shoulder. The waitress asked if I needed anything and I said I was good. Not exactly sure when but at a certain point we started talking across the patio and the gentleman invited me to join him at his table. I moved all my food and stuff over and sat across from him.

Sometimes you just know you’re exactly where you need to be at the right time. Here I was staying in Marfa for no apparent reason, but have a “chance” meeting with a perfect stranger. There was something resonating with his energy and mine. It was magnetic and seamless how we interacted. It was like he was a shiny glinting energy that could not be ignored. He spoke about everything I’d written about in the blog I had just finished that morning. He reiterated everything Jasmine had laid out for me! It was an incredible message from the universe. He said to call him Crow. And he said crows are tricksters.

The familiarity I had with his voice, demeanor and mannerisms had me immediately at ease and the conversation was flowing. It seemed to be on another plane, we spoke about manifesting what we need, being deserving and mist if all being thankful and showing gratitude for these gifts. That had been my affirmation that morning as well, the words “Thank you” are the most important in the universe.

We spoke of communing with our ancestors and how important that was and I told him I’d my vision that I’d had that my ancestors were surrounding me and holding me. Telling me that it was ok. Acknowledging my past traumas and telling me, “We are sorry you had to go through that but we’ve got you now.” Holding me tiny childlike hand in theirs and comforting me as I broke free of these shadows and pain only to become childlike in awe of the universe again. A complete paradigm shift of which I’m in the midst of experiencing.

Crow is a Virgo, I’m a Sagittarius. We spoke about past lives and the idea that people in your tribe come and go and you’re forever reconvening. Death is as beautiful as life. We talked about how I let my father’s death shadow me instead of embracing its beauty. How I’m finally allowing myself to lift that weight off my shoulders.

At one point he left the table and said he was getting something for me. He came back to the table and placed a nice sized oval shaped piece of pyrite on the table. Also called Fool’s Gold it’s a good stone for grounding, protection and abundance. So funny because I’d been looking for a crystals in Sedona but had been overwhelmed and found it so confusing! He also had a square box he set in the table and began to look through it.

“Ah here it is!” He said as I moved from across the table to a seat adjacent to him to be closer. He placed a gorgeous carved Zuni fetish bear in my hand. I immediately started to cry. “You’re going to give this to me?” I couldn’t believe it. The day before I had seen some great carved bear necklaces in El Paso and asked the guy at El Paso Connection if they’d had any of just the carvings. I collect these bears and even wear a silver bear around my neck at all times. And here was the perfect bear being delivered to me from the universe and this incredible soul I’d met. This bear was a gorgeous reddish color reminiscent of the rocks in Sedona but with blue eyes.

I popped up from the table and zipped out to my car to trade him a Virgen de Guadalupe sand dollar I’d painted and one of my Day of the Dead sand dollars. He gave that one to our server. We talked about lost things and he went back to his car to grab a St. Anthony pendant his friend Eugene in Oregon had given him. It was a keychain and included in it was a piece of the relic. Eugene called him a few minutes later.

I couldn’t help but laugh thinking that I’d almost ruined this encounter by leaving Marfa too soon. We paid our bills and decided to continue our conversation back on the porch by Lil’ Pinky. We were just so I tuned with each other on a spiritual level. He brought out a special copper cup and I took the Tequila horn out for the first time in the trip. I had some El Tesoro Anejo and took some from his cup and he drank some from the horn, more as a ritual or an offering than to get drunk.

We talked for awhile more and then he asked if I’d do him the honor of being on his new Spoon podcast that his agent has him doing. I was thrilled, here was my chance to get my messages out to the world. I suggested we do the taping inside the trailer because the wind was whipping around so much.

He was an adept interviewer and it turned out mire like an interview than anything. He went in on me being a songwriter and I found myself not only answering his questions with depth, but I found myself suddenly in the position of BELIEVING myself. It was almost a magical dream state I was in during this whole meeting with him. I could really believe that I’m a songwriter. I AM. I could really allow myself to believe what I’ve been touting for a week since it came to me, “The universe is my hammock”. I’m utterly supported and honestly I deserve to do whatever I feel compelled to do. This is my job. I’ve been a writer forever, since I was a child, for lifetimes. I truly believed that Crow was sent to me in that moment in Marfa to remind me of this. I cannot deny it any longer!

So when he asked me if I would indulge him and the audience with a song I did. I played and sang Carpe Diem for the world. I was playing a song I wrote in a trailer in Marfa, Texas, my dream come true. “Well I can’t tell you where I’m going, I don’t remember where I’ve been, storm clouds seem to be blowing, I’m walking straight into the wind. I feel just like an apparition, a pilgrim in purgatory, on the way to the next Mission, seeds to sow and crops to reap.”

The wind was blowing and we said goodbye maybe I’ll see ya later and the incredible confluence stayed lingering in the air for a while, a magical few hours where time stood still and two connected souls reconnected and reminded each other of their purpose. This all sounds weird afterwards right? Like there’s this passionate connection but in a very different level. Some may read this with the lens of a romantic encounter but it was nothing of the sort. A logical mind might find this dangerous and my monkey mind obsessed for a few minutes chiming in loudly with all sorts of accusations! You let him in the trailer! He could have poisoned your drink! He knows where you are staying! He could have taken your computer! He knows you have a guitar! You’re traveling alone. That bear isn’t stone! All sorts of nonsense. I put the monkey back in it’s little box and shut the lid.

Trust. You have to trust the universe is doing things in your best interest. Jasmine too had said it, trust your intuition! So I didn’t let the magic go, I didn’t let logic tarnish my incredible experience and the beauty of confluence! I had absolutely manifested this entire experience, I intended to have a magical Marfa day and it had played out like a movie I had scripted. More lyrics from that song, the bridge actually states it so clearly!

“I won’t let logic keep me shackled, lines on my face can’t bind me down, a mortal resurrection to tackle, crazy as that may sound.”

Thinking back on the experience I can’t totally explain it. I feel like there was a trick that the universe had played on me, pulling my guard down completely so that I could experience this magic. The feeling of exhilaration and knowing that someone was on the same level as you and finding out that you’re in exactly the right place at the tight time. It has happened before… the time I met someone from Malta in a bar in Bordeaux and I knew I was following my path, the time I spoke with Tomas on the Camino (2018) and he foresaw and told me of what I think was a prophecy of the events of 2020, the moment in New Orleans when I was gifted a Mardi Gras coconut from the owner of the Candle Light lounge, shortly after Tomas Bermejo passed and a day after I’d heard of the passing of Brendan,

Later in the afternoon Crow came by with a huge piece of amethyst with quartz inlaid in it to give me to protect me on my ride. He was dressed up ready to attend the pink super moon installation that he said may or may not be happening due to Covid and the overcast skies. We said goodbye a second time, I’m pretty sure he will pop up again sometime with another shiny object to bring me, as crows do. I felt like the magic in both of us had receded a bit on this second meeting. It just seemed more normal.

I communed with a hummingbird who was showing off, probably doing a mating ritual for me. But before his display he sat on a desert shrub motionless for a long time. It struck me that hummingbirds are almost always moving. I’ve been seeing a lot of them lately… this one allowed me to get super close and observe it sitting there. I wondered what its message for me was. Looking back, I now see. The pause. I was taking a pause in Marfa, listening to Jasmine’s recommendation. There is beauty in the pause!

The next day on the way through Texas i hit one mini spurt of rain, not even enough to wash the Marfa dust off the car. It just dappled the hood. It happened just shy of the town of Ozona, and then stopped abruptly before the exit. I took this as a sign. As I was walking to a thrift shop I opened Instagram a d I found out that a friend, Tomas Estes, passed away. Another Tomas, not Thomas.

Tomas left us Sunday, the night when I allowed myself to say yes. Yes I am going to pause here in Marfa. Yes I deserve this. Yes I can do anything I set my sights on. I am meant to take a pause. Listen, trust.

I came to find out later that evening that Tomas, who founded Tequila Ocho, had participated in an agave experience in a Marfa in 2019. Also a Virgo like Crow. And there we were toasting him unknowingly. I feel like Tomas was there nudging me. Experience the magic. Allow yourself time. I’d scribbled a note while driving just at Ozona… it says “rain dappled the windshield at Ozona, is that why it’s called that? Not enough to rinse the Marfa dust off the car. Spirit guides, Spirits guide.”





I left my heart in San Francisco

24 04 2021

Well leaving SF has become hard for me. That said, I will be back before I know it. The summer on Nantucket is a whirlwind and before I know it it will be over and then I’ll be sad to leave Nantucket, BUT I already procured two gigs out west at the Outer Sunset Mercantile Market on September 26 and October 10, both days from 12-2! I’m so excited!

Bison Golden Gate Park

So I got a lot of errands done, thankfully a package that was delayed arrived a day early yet still I couldn’t get out of the house before 5pm which meant I had to miss having dinner at the epic Trelio in Clovis, CA. I’ve always wanted to go, it’s epic, but it wasn’t in the cards this trip. And luckily on my last trip to sell back books at Green Apple Bookstore on Clement I was able to get to Wing Lee one last time! This time I got salt and pepper fried prawns! A half duck was too much to deal with yet very tempting… but wowsers this is a half pound of prawns!!

This is what $5.40 will buy you in prawns!!!!

So I got relatively organized but trying to organize a car for a long haul road trip is hard. Then add a fancy Gibson guitar and the basic needs like the traveling Riedel stemware kit and you can see how it escalated. I’d wanted to dine at Trelio in Clovis but I headed out too late. Bummed to miss my friend owner Chris Shackelford, but at least I got on the road. Instead it was me dining Chez Hampton Inn late night with roadside avocado and all my excess food and whatnot. I was able to regroup though and get a whole lot mire organized. Luckily the first leg was a shorter one and I was able to get one of the last rooms at the Tulare Hampton Inn. I like the chain, good Covid protocol which I discovered when I was in Arizona in late October helping the United Farm Workers Union with their canvassing campaign for Biden. I stayed for a week and found it to be super clean, safe and comfy.

So the morning got to a slow start and I did not get the Day One blog post done, but instead had to deal with the now new and very real urgency of trying to pack the car. I have some towels I bought at Costco and garbage bins and books… silly stuff really that is in the back seat, hopefully it obviously not important stuff, but I wanted the valuable stuff like the guitar to be covered when I stop for lunch or a restroom. I also brought a ton of CDs to join me, CDs I might add that are totally annoying because literally every time I took a load to the room they fell all over the place. Leg one music by the way was Dr. John Going Back to New Orleans (chosen at random, but seemed appropriate), Faith No More, and The Singles soundtrack.

So I pulled the car to the back of the hotel to load the three piles of crap back in, yep even after consolidating still so much stuff. While I was puzzling over how to fit it all, a homeless man approached asking for my room key so he could use my room to shower. I felt bad but I couldn’t chance it, seemed too sketchy. He apologized for asking me without my husband there, so I told him, “Oh yeah so he’s at the market getting us food.” He loomed around so I took the car round to the front portico of the hotel and resumed my puzzle. Let’s just say it was a total disaster. Everything in and out so many times, at least right. I love my Subaru but damn the truck is a weird shape on this Forester, I liked the old boxy one! And the curvy Gibson just did not want to fit. I know, I’m sorry first world problems. So everything in, then out, I tried not to make eye contact with the UPS delivery guy who was clearly amused. I took photos to remember the configuration but then some little thing would be off and I’d try again. Total nightmare. After about 35 minutes I got the thing done. And even got the truck closed, well after having to stop again. And then I had to stop at a rest stop about 10 minutes away because my anxiety had me convinced it could never have fit and I must’ve left a bag on the ground at the hotel. Ugh! So I left later than I’d wanted. I tried to remind myself that it’s all about the journey but I did make a ferry reservation for May 2, so I still need to make progress.

Hot mess

So the area around Tulare is the home to my favorite standard butter, Land O Lakes despite me not seeing any water anywhere. Lots of dairyland, big tanks, farm equipment suppliers etc. it was pretty dull scenery wise so I spent a good deal of the time on the phone with a friend chatting about my recent mindset. I’ve had a sort of catharsis understanding that my role in this life is to communicate and do so through writing, songwriting, teaching, healing and cooking. My message is going to take various routes to people and the universe has set things up so that I can live with ease to accomplish thus. Sounds a little wacky and new age but it’s what I feel compelled to do. This journey itself is part of it. I explained that I feel that my ancestors are closely around me guiding me at every turn. They’ve got me in their embrace and I’m being held by them. They’re holding my hand and allowing me to release past traumas so I can move forward. The other day I determined that “The Universe is my hammock”. Not a parachute that may or may not open, but rather a constant support system. If I believe something I’m doing is for the better good, the Universe will make it so. Very similar to the concept that The Camino will provide.

So I’m zipping along and starting to enter the Tehachapi mountains. I explain to Glen that this is where my dad Roman would have picked crops as a young migrant farm worker who came to the US in the bracero program. Roman passed away in 1995, and I’ve been recently understanding that although he’s gone it’s just for now. I didn’t handle the trauma of his death well… I’ve let it shadow me, and I’m learning to release that too, believing that our souls will reunite, but also believing his energy is still here with me. I explained also that this is the area where Cesar Chavez had his commune, La Paz, where I lived in Cesar’s home on an internship in 1988 while I was in high school in 1988. In fact just yesterday I came across the essay I’d written about agribusiness and its detrimental affect of the health of people in the town of McFarland that happened to appear somehow almost demanding to come on this journey with me. So suddenly the call dropped so I brought my attention to the mountains I was entering.

I had not done much research on what lay between my destinations, and I had thought I’d be staying in Clovis and heading to Sedona, but now the route was Tulare to Flagstaff. And I was literally just in the care of Google maps. I was on 58 E, I had no idea where in these mountains I’d visited so long ago. Suddenly I saw one of those blue signs that list food options with “Keene Café” on it. My mind perked up. Keene? Wasn’t that the name of the town where La Paz was? Yes, I remember now, that’s where I’d address the letters to Cesar and Helen. The whole reason I got the internship with Cesar was because he was a close friend of my father. My father would host UFW events at his Pancho Villa’s restaurants. Cesar was even my brother’s godfather. I met Emilio Estevez at a UFW grocery boycott… fast forward to me going to see a pre-screening of The Way where he and Martin Sheen spoke… and me then going on The Camino de Santiago years later… all interconnected.

But wait I’m driving here, and today I’ve got Buddha Bar playing and it’s all trance like and Zen like you just checked into a W Hotel or something, and there’s huge trucks all around me and these super rocky mountains are growing taller, and the drums. I’m in the right hand lane, should I stop fir lunch? It’s like 1:30. I can’t just pop in and say hey UFW. And it’s Covid. And is this even where it’s at? Then I see a sign, Cesar Chavez National Monument. What? This is a thing? (Thanks to Barack Obama it is) and just a few minutes later and I feel the wheel pull me to the exit.

The cute kitschy Keene Cafe signs had me pull over to take a photo. Still numbly floundering somehow I wonder should I bother with the monument? Is this really a thing? I see a sign that says 1/2 mile with an arrow… so I go. At the entrance is a new looking sign that confirms I’m here. This is La Paz. I start the windy road down. I even stop once, is this private? Am I allowed to be here? Why am I scared or think I’m imposing? I Google “Cesar Chavez National Monument” confirming it’s real and there’s a gift shop. So I go.

I pull in and get out to read a sign and a docent is there with a private tour. I hear him say they’re closed due to Covid. “Sorry are you closed? “ I ask timidly, he wonders if I’m looking for a bathroom. Not really I say and then he tells me I can go through the gardens, see the monument and if I want to go on a short jaunt I can go and see Cesar and Helen’s humble home. It’s behind the fence.

I tell him I lived there once for a week and he’s impressed lol, starts rattling off names of people I probably should remember, but he doesn’t know the current team, he’s a park services guy. I feel guilty for not reaching out to then but I’m just breezing through.

Suddenly they’re off, not a big place, but they disappear to allow me to be alone. The fountain which I discovered is the monument isn’t grand, just like Cesar wasn’t grand, but it exudes a sense of peace and calm that Cesar would have loved. There’s wisteria and a rose garden, but I step up into another area, didn’t seem like much save some quotes on the wall but one more step reveals a statue of the Virgen de Guadalupe. She’s an icon for me and I said before I headed out that she’d be with me on my journey. I am struck by the fact that if I hadn’t taken that extra step I would have missed her. I burst into tears, overcome by the emotion of it all suddenly allowing myself that feeling I’ve had so many times, that I’m EXACTLY where I’m supposed to be. The repacking the car, the little stop to check the trunk all the confluences are set out by the Universe to put me in the right place at the right time so that I’ll get confirmation that the messages I’m receiving are oh so real. I turned to the left and my eye caught the centerpiece of the garden and my heart caught further in my throat. Sobbing now I gazed at the final resting place of Cesar and Helen Chavez. Roman had given me that nudge so I could go and pay my respects. I had no idea they’d be buried there. Just incredible.

So I took the walk through plants that represented Cesar’s persona, simultaneously sturdy and tender, some from Cesar’s home state of Arizona. I found the humble home where I lived with them the week I worked on my research. I was embraced by the community and Cesar’s nieces. I remember the house had a small guest room with a high si gel bed where I stayed. It smelled of clean laundry with lots of Downy fabric softener. Cesar was macrobiotic and ate very simply and I’d sometimes see he’d taken a nibble right off the block of Muenster cheese. Wow. I’m so honored to be the keeper of these memories. I’m so grateful for this experience. I felt very connected yesterday.

The rest of the drive, about 7 hours, was pretty uneventful, beautiful Mojave desert and not much but deep thoughts.





Traveling again…

21 04 2021

2020 began innocently enough. I had a trip to San Francisco planned for some R&R. Just prior to that a friend suffered a dire accident and had to be medi-vacced to Boston from Nantucket. I happened to be going to the Boston University hockey game with a few of my college roommates from 301 Bryant. I was lucky enough to have some time to go and visit him in the hospital. I picked up some towels at Macy’s for his girlfriend who’d been stalwartly at his side for most of the week while he lay in a medically induced coma to get through his intense injuries. I also grabbed some dim sum in Chinatown and got some egg custard bites for her. Friends sent some cash for her to use and I got it and bought two cards with mushrooms on them at a shop near Mass General to wrap it in. When I arrived she warned me of his condition. Nothing like the cardiac ICU to bring up memories of past hospital bedside visits and departures, but I steadied myself and went in, bravely I might add.

She told me I could touch his hand and I did, thinking briefly of Covid, but it wasn’t even a thought to most back then. I came back the Monday after, and honestly can’t remember which visit it was, but I was there when he was waking up. He is a normally ornery guy but he was combative upon reassuming his body. No blame but he was fighting and confused as to his predicament. His girlfriend was frustrated and left me alone in the room with him. I said, “Hey man, you gotta be calm, because these nurses have got you so you gotta be nice to them… you’ve been out sedated for a while so it’s gonna take a bit to come back.” “Sedated?! SEDATED!” He growled. “Sedated for how long?” He probed incredulously. Not knowing whether I should tell him and with no one else in the room I told him, “10 days.” He seemed confused but also diffused. I was happy to see him alive and With the same brain function as ever.

But I headed out to SF on a frivolous journey, dim sum and wine and honey mead abounded, but just as I was scheduled to go home we got word that my husband’s father was dying. He hopped a plane to Phoenix and I drove down visiting Megan and Phoebe in Santa Barbara, and Greg in Palm Springs. I got the news that he passed as I was stopping at a crystal shop in Quartzsite.

So we spent some days cleaning his room from the nursing home, staying with family and regrouping and eventually made the trip back north to SF where we could then fly back to Nantucket. The generosity of our friends was great. Trupiano and his family welcomed us for happy hour and Treg and Shannon let us stay in Santa Barbara and get to know their amazing kids. We saw Raj and Nina on our way out of town. We hopped on the plane for Nantucket not realizing this would be our last journey for a while.

So the lockdown happened very soon after our return and a new normal began, masks, sanitizer, distancing all of it. I ran my business The Hungry Minnow the best I could in this different paradigm. And in the fall my traveling ache just could not be squelched and I headed to SF again and zipped down to Arizona to help the United Farm Workers Union turn Arizona blue. A week down there and then back to SF and back to Nantucket for the winter. Spring found me longing for sun and the other ocean and so I spent a lot of time out in SF regrouping mentally for the coming summer season. I got the vaccine (2 doses of Pfizer) and now I’m really to hit the road again. I’m heading back east but this time by car. My friend Ali today spoke of the magnetically charged road the cord that drove us during our magical walk in 2018 on the Camino de Santiago in Spain. She reminds me as much as our feet and bodies ached how driving the pull was. That’s what this journey is as well. I’m feeling the pull to step out of my comfort zone yet again and hit the road. My course is plotted but the coordinates are not firm, there’s always forks in the road. I’m guided by intuition and feel that I’ve discovered my purpose at least for the short term. I’m a writer. I’m a songwriter. I’m an artist. I’m a healer. I have been denying these truths but know I now must embrace them. It’s an unconventional lifestyle but I’m going to come to terms with the fact that I’m bicoastal. I have two anchors that are across the country from each other. It may seem crazy, but I’ve spent 7 or so years trying to come “choos” and I can’t. So the truth that I’m finding is that the coasts are my anchors or moorings and the country is my ocean. It’s my job to navigate and by taking on the task I am weaving a web of interconnection between the two.

I always said that my songs really speak about what I’m meant to do if I’d just listen to my own lyrics… almost every song I write riffs off this theme.

“Like driftwood I long to be weathered, but please keep me firmly tethered to your moors, like sea glass I need to be tumbled, to strengthen sometimes you must stumble, but oh, when I’m ready, moonlight on the jetty will guide me back safely, cuz to grow, you gotta go to sea.

So I set sail via car tomorrow. Would you join me?