The force, good it is.
Yodas ben-Jedi amidst things of this earth, sit they do
Jedi already being a plural word I believe ... Just thinking out loud here ...
And for something from a different mythology ...
"Thou shalt not worship idols"
I don't. However, I can say that each & every stone, shell, rock, Yoda has special memory for me. I love to hold each one separately. I love to feel their shape, texture. I close my eyes, eager to recapture the memory of a moment suspended in time.
Collectively, the smile that comes to my face is a small reflection of the easy, breezy sense of serenity that goes through me when I reconnect with this small cornucopia of collectibles.
One of the pieces is a particularly special gift. One from someone who knows me very well. Julita brought this from an area of her motherland in Puerto Rico well known for decades worth of, yes I am going to say it, UFO & paranormal activity.
I remember watching one of my woo woo shows years ago with Vic in which the Puerto Rican connection was discussed, footage aired, photos, locals interviewed. I told Julita about the show & asked if she had been to that area. I also rememberd the surname of the local journalist who covered the story. Martin.
As in Julita's cousin, who shares her maiden name.
And the woo goes on ...
My Puerto Rican stone always gets its full moon cleansing along with all the other rocks, crystals, feathers,, tsotches.
I like to have that one particular stone near me at night.
Armed the mandatory intergalactic hitchhiker's towel, night after night, I patiently wait, hoping to hitch a ride on an intergalactic VW bus, desperately hoping to avoid Vogon poety.
My mantra is not "Calgon, take me away".
Definitely more "Beam me up Scotty."
Douglas Adams: RIP
Yodas ben-Jedi amidst things of this earth, sit they do
Jedi already being a plural word I believe ... Just thinking out loud here ...
And for something from a different mythology ...
"Thou shalt not worship idols"
I don't. However, I can say that each & every stone, shell, rock, Yoda has special memory for me. I love to hold each one separately. I love to feel their shape, texture. I close my eyes, eager to recapture the memory of a moment suspended in time.
Collectively, the smile that comes to my face is a small reflection of the easy, breezy sense of serenity that goes through me when I reconnect with this small cornucopia of collectibles.
One of the pieces is a particularly special gift. One from someone who knows me very well. Julita brought this from an area of her motherland in Puerto Rico well known for decades worth of, yes I am going to say it, UFO & paranormal activity.
I remember watching one of my woo woo shows years ago with Vic in which the Puerto Rican connection was discussed, footage aired, photos, locals interviewed. I told Julita about the show & asked if she had been to that area. I also rememberd the surname of the local journalist who covered the story. Martin.
As in Julita's cousin, who shares her maiden name.
And the woo goes on ...
My Puerto Rican stone always gets its full moon cleansing along with all the other rocks, crystals, feathers,, tsotches.
I like to have that one particular stone near me at night.
Armed the mandatory intergalactic hitchhiker's towel, night after night, I patiently wait, hoping to hitch a ride on an intergalactic VW bus, desperately hoping to avoid Vogon poety.
My mantra is not "Calgon, take me away".
Definitely more "Beam me up Scotty."
Douglas Adams: RIP
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