And On Day Two.... Art and Healing Were Separated... So we must dance them back together

Rather than spend such a balmy, perfect Finally Summer Sunday rubbing the newly spanked downy butts of boys in chaps at the Folsom Street Fair, I instead had the dubious pleasure of spending from 8-6 in that thing called CLASS. Following yesterday's description, several of you wrote questioning my sanity or chiding what you took to be a clear tendency towards exaggeration. So I brought a camera to class. Let all questioning of the realism of my posts cease and desist.


And since a picture is worth a thousand traumatized words, let me say that....

Yeeeeeeeees.

First Journey of the Day:

This morning's Virtual Sweat Lodge Experience has been brought to you (more than 31 times counted) by the words PATRIARCHY, MANIFEST, and the phrase DIVINE FEMININE, with major underwriting provided by the makers of all drugs I will begin to self-medicate with following this course. Note: Sighting of Saturday's Screaming Low Blood Sugar Lady.... Lower Left.

Second Journey, Still Not Lunch: My Virtual Vision Quest. Thank god for colored charcoal. My happy place is the highlight of my day.

Check out sweet new hair look. Our professor forgot to pick up gold and silver thread at Walgreens this morning for impending ritual (read: doom). Professor: "Does anyone have any gold and silver thread?" Student: "No, but oh wait I have purple-blue wool yarn?" Professor: "This is known as Manifesting. I Manifest all the time since I found my spirit animals. See how it works? It is an act of the divine spirit." Professor has a profound ability to manifest his spirit animals. He sees and hears them everywhere he goes. It helps that he only wears clothing with bears on it. It helps that his ring tone is an owl. But that is just Manifesting A La Modern World style, for you non-believers. I have manifested a number of things myself -- ukuleles, couches, particular people, and almost a pencil tip where my eye once was. I am fucking spiritual, too. So ha.






Drummer going into trance. Several hours later, comes out of it to say: "That was so magical. I looked up, and though lots of people were taking on their animals, you, you, YOU were magical. I was drumming and looked at you and you DISAPPEARED. I mean, you were not just embodying the bear. You became the bear. You WERE the bear." Our eyes both fill with tears, possibly for different reasons.






Owl lady looks into the eyes (souls) of all participants to purify us.... I look back. Since owls reportedly can see into our real selves ("thus allowing us to see ourselves".... See? I learned something else in this class), one might guess from my expression that she and I were learning that while wearing a bear pelt, I can tolerate a phenomenal amount of crap.


Shortly thereafter, community play dance-a-thon drum circle commences with the story of Art and Healing being spiritually and sexually connected and all the
directions were one.



And then along comes Western Medicine. And breaks them up. It is a little porny.... a little West Side Story...





Art and Healing bump 'n' grind while Sar-Bear subtly tries to get away from the scene while bear huffing and grumping. Of course, I have an entire bear on my back, so.... this is right before I get caught. Professor (hand lightly on my receding back): You have to stay in the circle. Me: Grumph. Snort. Shuffle.



People Clap. I clap on the inside, grateful to have somehow gone to my happy place and survived this.

Second thing I learned today? SCARED and SACRED: same letters, different arrangement. Yeeeeeeeeees.