Island animals

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know that place for the first time.

-- TS Eliot

We're back!  And with some fresh wind in our sails!  Every Being should go on a journey like this once in a while-- sharpens the mind, lightens the soul, reminds us of our rooted flow.  Full moons and ocean tides and language without words: all animals need a little wilderness.  And it's almost Spring!  So you know my fox-coyote self is starting to feel frisky anyway, as per usual-- nose up, fresh dirt, smelling that chicken breeze.

True to form we got a few little animals out there that seemed just right-- cause they go where they go... 

So in Little Corn Island, Nicaragua, a fish went to a fighting, hugging, flip-flopping Russian.  This was a woman who would hug you one minute and threaten to kick you in the head with some kind of Thai martial arts the next.  She liked me, thankfully, because I would not have wanted to be on the wrong end of that foot!  But she got the fish because it was so clear that her emotions were swimming very close to the surface.  A lover AND a fighter.  So the fish jumped in her pocket to remind her that there are times to swim with the current, and times to swim against it-- and there are times to just swim away.  Fear and anger don't have to be the motivation: fight or flee, float or swim-- do it with intention, little Russian fish. 

And we placed a little rat, I think, in a banana shack being built by a gringo.  Mostly because this guy had a big toothy smile, a good line of bullshit, and absolutely no qualms about making out with drunk bar patrons-- he seemed to be a natural rat, and to be honest, I liked him.  He owned his asshole agenda.  He had a quick wit.  And he smiled a lot.  Some folks tend to be offended by the rat-- this guy knew better.  He embraced his smart rat self.  Also, I think he left me a cool heart shaped seed in return-- first time I have been tandem gifted.:)

I also gave away a little hedgehog with a heart on his chest.  This one landed right where it was supposed to go.  The woman who got the hedgehog told me it was having to do with her young son, that he had experiences with hedgehogs and collected hearts-- that it suited him perfectly.  And I believe that.  But there is something of a hedgehog in this woman, too.  Hedgehogs teach us that we can be gentle and vulnerable but still protect ourselves.  They teach us how and when to use our defenses.  They teach us how to discourage negativity without internalizing it.  I have never pretended to read people, but something... something...  protect that heart, Hedgehog-- and keep rolling on.

And there is still a little red fox somewhere in the jungles of Nicaragua, with some enthusiastic and awesome animal spirit people from Canada-- can't wait to see where that one ends up!

Back in the studio this week.  And back on the town.  With renewed love and light and appreciation for all my animal spirit friends!

Ready up, Spirit People!  Eyes and hearts (and pockets) open! 

A steady forward motion

March.  In name, it's one of my favorite months.  I mean, moving into spring, like it or not.  A steady forward motion.  Marching orders.  March march march.

I was marching a few animals around town last night.  It's maybe my last night out for a while.  So, a rodent.  Maybe a chipmunk.  People don't give rodents much credit.  But the truth is, they're smart.  And chatty.  They're external processors, liking to figure things out by talking things through.  And they're stealthy, too.  You don't notice them picking your pockets, whispering in your ear, running up your pant leg-- they do it anyway.  If you got this little non-descript rodent you're likely operating under the radar.  And this could be to your advantage.  But look around, there is a whole community of rodents doing the same thing you are.  Power in numbers, friend.  Don't isolate yourself.

And the seahorse.  Or maybe it's a seadog.  This is an animal who operates in both worlds:  the weird wet emotional dreamy realm, and also the hard firm and grounded realm of straight up reality.  Tricky.  Not just tricky for the seahorse spirit, but tricky for the rest of us, too.  People who live in the ecotone, the space where water and land meet, are special.  Like weeble-wobbles, they are innately balanced and it takes a lot to knock them down.  But it is maybe not always comfortable for them.  They struggle a little with where they belong, feeling a little out of place even when things seem to be exactly right.  And this one has something about perspective happening, too-- because when I mentioned that I was looking for a seahorse, I don't think this literal interpretation is what folks expected.  There is something unexpected about this spirit person.  More than meets the eye.

A few little buggers have made their wild way to the great North-- sailing around frozen Norway.  Possibly the furthest we've been from home (although one did wind up in Russia, somehow.  And certainly California has attracted a few.)
And this week a little bundle of spirit animals are headed to South America.  Wildbeings world tour.  Keep your eyes peeled and your pockets unzipped spirit people!   Happy MARCH!

Goal diggin goats

It's been quite a little while since I've updated this thing.  But don't worry, animals are making their way into the world all the same.  I distributed a long-nosed vole and screaming weasel just this week.  The fact of the matter: this experiment takes constant claywork and I am not always so great about sticking to a single art form.  And suncatchers made out of junk and cardboard box city sculptures don't slip easily into people's pockets.  But alas, a batch has been miraculously bisque fired-- and today it will be glazed! 

So keep your eyes peeled for a whole new batch of wild spirit-- a lot of land mammals in this one.  Coincidentally (ha! sure.), it's the year of the goat!

Goats.  They climb and climb no matter how steep or cumbersome their path. They keep inching forward and up, forward and up. With stubborn determination they stomp and push and eat anything standing in their way: tin cans, broken glass, paperwork-- heck we call that breakfast.  This will be a year of self-discovery and vision, spirit people.  Plant your seeds and set your goals.  We are goal diggers!  So alright, folks, horns down.  Here and now.  Start the climb.  Go slow, go easy, but go!       

Happy Zoo Year

Here we are.  It's January, 2015.  Can you believe it? 

I have always been a person that cannot pass up a fresh start, a new day, a clean slate, an opportunity.  But I don't really do the new years thing.  My birthday is on the 6th-- and it has always seemed more true to the idea of reinvention-- doing it on my own personal new year rather than the homogenized calendar day that The Man and the hallmark people shove down my throat, our throats, everybody. 

I never loved having my birthday right after the holidays.  For one thing, people are always saying things like, "Whew, the holidays are OVER!" when it's, like, two days before my birthday.  Also, I've always suspected that people buy me loads of Christmas presents and then when they remember it's so close to my birthday, they split up the loot.  Folks are sick of it.  And they aren't shy about saying so-- celebrating a birthday in early January is overkill, it's annoying, we'll celebrate later.  Sure we will.  Sure.

People always ask me about my own spirit animal.  Truth is, I don't know.  I got a 'professional' reading once-- the woman told me I was a coyote with hawk medicine.  Both beasts have had a  formidable presence in my life.  One thing I know about hawks: they see things that other folks don't.  They fly ahead, above.  They see the big picture-- and sometimes pretty clearly.  What I've learned about this part of me: not everyone is ready to hear what the hawk has to report.  Especially true when the report comes out of the mouth of the tricky laughing coyote.  But that's what years are for, growing and learning.  One of these days I will be a very powerful coyote-hawk who knows just how to temper all my magic-- but for now, hang in there friends, bear with me.  It's a wild world out there and the best thing we can do is keep learning, keep smiling, keep loving, and keep trying to understand one another. 

So the full moon starts tonight.  Full Wolf Moon.  And it will stay full for three days.  During these next three days leading up to my birthday I will be around our local beer joints distributing the final batch of last year's animals.  Rabbits, hippos, narwhals: the first menagerie of 2015.  They are going out on the town tonight with SERIOUS good vibes-- because these are last year's animals.  But they are going to find purchase, dig in, and make this year work for them.

You'd be smart to hitch up your wagons, light your lanterns, and get on down this road, folks.  Welcome to 2015! 

  
 

Beasts and beauties and a new year around the bend

The recent dark moon has people acting screwy.  Folks who I know to be solid land mammals are suddenly flailing around the seashores and lakes, looking like they want to swim.  Bird people are digging dirt-- and not just for worms-- digging cause they've lost focus, cause they've forgotten to look up: those wings aren't just for show, folks. 

Time for a little wintertime introspection.  Remember our faculties.  Remember we are spirit people.

I've recently given a little sea lion to the son of a beaver.  These are both animals that can do well in those ecotone environments.  Survivors.  Playful hardworkers.  Beavers are builders.  They remind us to build up our dreams, not lose focus.  If a beaver has shown up in your life, chances are, you need to spend a little time repairing your balance.  Maybe your creative energy has been diffused-- you've forgotten that your work and your personal legend are intrinsically tied together.  Beavers tell us to act on our dreams, make them reality.

In the same vein, sea lions are creative, sensitive, souls.  These folks tend to swim around in their own heads a lot-- and the trick for them is to figure when and how to bring their gifts to the surface.  Folks with sea lion totems should pay particular attention to their ears and what they're hearing or what they're listening to.  Music and words can unlock doors for these folks.

I also tried to get a three-legged unicorn to a three-legged unicorn.  Not sure if it made it.  Unicorns are special, of course.  And over here at Wildbeings they're even more so because they always break.  Mostly the horns break off.  In this case, it was a leg.  So I was looking for somebody who still had their magic intact, but maybe had forgotten about it because they're concentrating too much on their limp.  The three legged unicorn is a reminder that you're very special-- but it's up to you to figure if you're a magician or a cripple-- depends on where your energy goes and flows.

This is a time to go within, reevaluate, refocus.  Time to remind ourselves that we have special talents and we need to remember to use them-- or they'll atrophy.  So wherever you are in this last week of the year-- land or sea or air-- be there.  And start from there.
 
We will see you in the new year, beasts!
   

automatic for the animal-people

We've been depositing spirit animals all over the downtown area in the past few weeks.  Wolves, bears, mountain lions, catfish, even a drunken turkey.  It's been a bit of a blur.   This happens on occasion: the giving away becomes a whirlwind and overshadows the documentation.  That's because finding homes for the animals is fun and games, but writing about it is work. 

Don't worry, some of us are worker bees.  And the fact is, we've been working on some other ceramic side projects: light pulls that look like hands, hanging baskets for succulents, ornaments, wind chimes, little keychain houses... but the animals are returning in full force soon enough. 


Because solstice is coming.  The idea that we are reaching a point where the light and darkness are perfectly balanced is a big deal.  We could use a little balance over here.  As the darkness grows, we are considering hibernation.  Or migration?  Something. Bottom line: If you found a spirit animal in the past few weeks, you're on your own.  Is it yours?  Does it belong to someone else?  Your call.  This is a community art project.  And you, good folks, are the community.

Back to it, Spirit People!

Beaver moon!

Okay spirit people.  We're back.  We didn't really go anywhere, just haven't been posting.  We've been distributing animals: beavers and foxes and bears and a snake at the midterm elections (turns out, plenty of snakes there already.)  Tonight, John Butler Trio, my kind of weather, and a bag of fall animals looking to find the right people.  Stay tuned!

daylight nightdark sunlight moonlight

Happy Autumn Equinox! Welcome back darkness!  So long, hot summer!  Cave-dwellers and freckular people rejoice!

It's been a great week over here at Wildbeings.  So glad to see summer on the way out.  We got the big fox to what I'm going to say was the stage manager at Trombone Shorty.  I got a small coyote to John Fullbright-- who opened for Shovels and Rope.  And I got a luna moth-girl on the stage during Shovels and Rope.  Well, not me, but somebody did.

I'm not here to do music reviews.  I'm not qualified.  I don't even play an instrument (5 chords on the ukulele...).  But Shovels and Rope... woah.  One of the best shows I've seen in a while.  I was so impressed by the musical love language that these two performers seemed to share and speak.  And it's not like either of them have super beautiful voices.  But they sound so... moving.  Amazing, really.

Moths are amazing, too.  Much like the butterfly, but from the flip side, the dark side.  Butterflies are beautiful, sunny and light, colorful, fluttery.  We all love butterflies.  And there is no doubt that moths are beautiful, too.  But entities that thrive in darkness always make people nervous.  It's our weird Christian/ Puritan sensibilities.  The forests are dangerous, dark, deep and filled with lurking creatures, danger, witches and whatnot.  But here's what I think: It's a perfect animal for the equinox.  They are a reminder that darkness is on it's way.  Moth people use shadow and darkness to confuse enemies, to dazzle and distract.  They know how and when to disappear.  They have the ability to use illusion.  But most importantly:  moths can always find their way to the light.  They remind us that there is hope.  Always.  Sometimes we have to look beyond our preconceptions.

Foxes and coyotes are playful trickster types.  I write about them a lot.  Or I mean to.  Clever.  Smart.  I mean, this whole project is kind of coyote-fox spirited.  These animals, both, tell us to look for balance between work and play.  And to love and make good use of the inbetween times: the foggy mornings and dusk times.  The waiting periods.  Foxes and coyotes teach us to follow our hearts, but to take our brains with us-- be playful, but stay on the light side.  Because mostly, these spirits are clever to a point of magically manipulative, which can go dark, man.

Happy Equinox, Mabon, Day of Balance!  Love to all the Spirit People!
 

   

Fox to be continued

Trombone Shorty was a really good time.  Tailgating out front I met somebody whose cousin was in the band.  We talked about who might be a fox-- I happened to have a pretty big fox with me.  I don't remember who she suggested might be the fox.  But getting it up on stage was pretty easy, as I remember it.  Which I really don't.  I'm pretty sure somebody else did it.  It's all so overwhelming right there by the speaker and all the excitement and beer.  But this is what happened: go to Wildbeings on facebook.  You'll see.  Shovels and Rope tonight.  And I'll get to the fox stuff later.

flamingo, flamingone

I spent at least a week carrying around the flamingo. It was kind of big and too heavy in my purse.  It had pointy legs.  It was cumbersome.  Everybody thinks they're a bear or a wolf or a hawk-- but flamingo spirits are harder to come by.

With a little detective work and maybe one too many beers, I think I found my flamingo spirit.  Luckily, this guy is a regular and predictable bar patron who had vocalized his flamingo-ness to other bar patrons-- so I was pointed in the right direction and it only took me two visits to find him.

Flamingos know how to stand out in a crowd.  Obviously.  Which is why, even though they're rare, they're not hard to find.  They are preening and emotional-- and they know the importance of color.  They get color from diet, so if the pink stuff isn't available they will fade to white.  The flamingo spirit should take in those things that nourish their heart and soul-- the stuff that intensifies their bright color-- and stay away from the things that make them fade.

Don't fade away, Flamingo guy!