Category Archives: main course

Joy of Life!

Moxie Supper (Thylias) was in a bit of an accident recenly.  My natural waist-length multiracial hair caught fire when I was preparign to cook, and half the hair on my head burned off!

My scalp was not singed at all.  What luck, or maybe more.  I am so glad that I had  the love of my Thing through every-Thing.   You do not realize how grateful I am that life brought this rare opportunity to me at such an advanced age, my being 64, and my Thing being 70.  


In the photo, my Thing is  right by my side.  And I am right by his side.  Exactly where we both should be..  


And just the joy of knowing he exists  fills me with splendor the likes of which the mere world has yet to know.  For if he did not exist, I would not yet know the very meaning and possibility of love.  He tells me that he finds me “Breathtakingly Hot!”  


Just as it should be for going through the fire for him! I am now hotter than ever!

BITMOJI THYLIASAnd in honor of those survivals of me and the hotness, 



I’m not dead yet, y’all!

 and as Buster Poindexter sings, Feeling Hot, hot, Hot –a great dessert.







REMEMBERING I don’t want to remember, yet I do; I’d rather be asleep –as if I’ve eaten something incompatible with my system.  Something I can’t digest –though I’ve had many years to get used to it. I’m recalling –though I don’t want to– THE DAY when my deceased ex-father-in-law said I wasn’t a “real mother” because I’d adopted my children, one of whom was his niece –didn’t matter to him (he also didn’t come to my wedding, for which I made all dresses in the wedding party except my wedding gown) ….  Clearly the way he defined “what constituted “real” differed extremely from ways in which I defined “real” / “realities“….  So what was the equivalent of a “real” mother?   Evidently, a child had to grow in your own womb –not sure how he felt about implanted embryos or surrogates when a womb was insubstantial or unavailable, sill producing viable eggs despite a hysterectomy, for instance.  And I was “real” enough, standing right in front of him on his porch, beside his son –to whom I was married, his son who didn’t dance with me at the wedding –and even then we knew, although my then-spouse remained silent; we knew that it wasn’t “my” fault –not that childlessness must endure “blame” –how embarrassing for my spouse at the time, to have to admit that “HE” WAS THE REASON FOR THE CHILDLESSNESS of the marriage! –yet every doctor visited always ASSUMED THAT I WAS THE REASON! –but I wasn’t, having been raped when I was fifteen, and getting pregnant from that rape (I knew I could get pregnant) –didn’t have that baby –just as I shouldn’t have, despite those children of rape who managed to grow up without (visible) scars of their conception (and I shouldn’t have had that baby…. I was much too young, and would have changed my life significantly, I imagine –can’t say for sure since I didn’t take that route of being a teenager (would have been 16 when that child would have been born; was craving popcorn when my pregnancy could no longer be hidden at home… never talked about this! –never said a word!completely altered my behavior at schoolI started sitting in the backs of classrooms, and said nothing! –absolutely nothing! –was pushed through corridors by movements of crowds; grades plummeted  –didn’t matter to me how I performed! –I recalled how I’d done nothing to try to stop this older man, deacon at my mother’s church, from violating me! —he was 25, I was 15! But there I was, standing beside the man (age 23) who met me when I was still 16, right after a third-trimester abortion in New York State, where it was legal in 1970… Of course, he’s stated that he did nothing wrong, nothing for which he had no permission; I consented to everything, one way or another… developed a dependence on him, similar, perhaps, to those who begin to “love” their jailers, their captors…. Anyway, I was in another situation over which I had no control…. Even married him….   After a few years of marriage my ex-spouse was certainly aware that he was the one unable to procreate, despite what doctors seemed to think, as I was consistently the one “blamed” for the childless marriage –so we adopted children and became a family instead of a couple, first his niece (when she was seven, because her mother, [as did her mother’s identical twin sister [[reminds me a bit –though an entirely different case– of the Gibbons sisters of “Silent Twins“]] my ex-spouse’s sister (as did her identical twin),  lost custody of her five children for neglect), then in an attempt to appease me, a son, first baby I ever held and was allowed to bring home as my own!…. We had those two children with us when my ex-father-in-law told me that I wasn’t a “real” mother….. And my ex-spouse could have said something then, but didn’t to his father –who also didn’t come to the wedding…. Allowed me to be the one responsible…. But by then, we knew! –after visits to so many fertility clinics –he was told that he’d unlikely (not “impossible” as he continued to mention) father a biological child… We tried in vitro fertilization three times ($10,000.00 each attempt, to no avail; just a lot of injections I had to take to ripen eggs sooner, and in a quantity large enough for harvesting.  No success.  I, of course, was getting older, and by then we lived in Massachusetts…. But not, according to my ex-spouse, “too old” –I could have waited; “all it took  was one sperm!” he insisted, and he had at least one as I grew older and older by the minute….  But his few million sperm needed to be healthy, motile and not misshapen, needed to be active and able to penetrate the egg…   They couldn’t. Not even in a Pertri dish where the sperm didn’t have to swim very far to get to the egg…. But how could he know this until a partner failed to conceive, failed to become pregnant?   I hesitate to mention it, but that adoption of the niece was disastrous; she was seven when we adopted her —to keep her in the family; –we were asked if we would take a child, and I said the youngest, knowing the role of age of the child in which interventions are attempted; I thought that we might have a chance with only the youngest; she was seven, beyond the age when influence in our Massachusetts home, wealthy pocket some 23 miles north of Boston could exert significant changes in her and her life, after she accompanied me in my second year of graduate study to Durham New Hampshire, right after she came to live with us, and when she was eight, stole money from the teacher’s purse. January. It was winter, and NEW HAMPSHIRE SNOW fell prodigiously.  Here and there were animal tracks like forks, and hoarfrost patterns on windows that my cheeks tried to pilfer, pressed against these panes. Loved the spray when wind stirred up the powdery snow, twirled it and released it so that it fell again rather lacy.  I couldn’t wait to make bootprints. NEW HAMPSHIRE SNOW.   Durham was a wonderful small town, and our niece (so that she’d remain in the family when her mother –whose identical twin also lost custody of her children, for similar reasons of neglect– lost custody and the children were removed from the home) was there stealing money.  I read to her daily, and she performed okay in the Oyster River Schools (other than stealing the money)… What a change this way of life was for her; I’ll have to ask her how it felt to live in New Hampshire…. What did she think of the mountains? of Franconia Notch, and the Old Man of the Mountain?  I am no longer in touch with her and never will be again; I used to wonder if this environment had the effect on her life that I’d hoped it would? What was it like for her to live on a college campus? –to eat in the dining hall? –to watch me study and also teach? (I was a TA). She moved with us, of course to Andover Massachusetts where I worked at Phillips Academy right after grad school –that’s when problems really escalated…. she discovered boys –started staying out all night with them –but couldn’t take advantage of the tuition reduction! –we would only have had to pay 10% of tuition [10% of about $20,000.00] had she been able scholastically, intellectually, and emotionally to attend PA –however, having missed those first eight (including nine month of pregnancy, so roughly another year), meant that any influence of these new –and wealthy!– in the space of PA environments didn’t change her enough to allow her to take advantage of all that the northern Massachusetts setting had to offer…. She was twelve when she started running away…. and twelve when police brought her back.  She began running away every weekend, and I resorted to locking the door to her room to try to keep her there, but that proved ineffective as she climbed out the window in order to run away! –initially from Andover, Massachusetts to Lawrence, Massachusetts; this occurred for years! –until she was 17, when she ran away for the last time, back to the state in which she’d lived before the attempted rescue via adoption! –I grew weary of all this running away! –quite a paper trail evolved! –a each time the police became involved, a record was kept! –I’d never been involved with the police! –they became like members of the family! –when she ran away for what was the last time, she told authorities in that mid-western state that we’d put her out, but this wasn’t true, of course (she was also a pathological liar, and had been for years); by then; had to hire a lawyer in the state to which she ran, but we had extensive documentation, from the police, and this lawyer said that he’s never seen documentation as extensive as what I had, so when he presented this evidence in court, the judge was impressed, and rescinded the adoption!  I couldn’t travel because I was pregnant –after my ex-spouse announced that if he couldn’t have children, then neither could I! –I was almost  thirty-seven and nearing an age when it wouldn’t be optimal for my body to try to sustain a pregnancy; fertility would decline, and I also knew that I could get pregnant, so for a full year before executing my plan I prepared my body for a new life! –I was ready, no longer a teenager, and quite accomplished, having published several volumes of poetry and having won several awards, which PA didn’t require, but the private high school had only minors attending, including the son of Dick Gregory (Yohance Gregory), Patrick Kennedy, younger half-brother of SadeSoji Adu, and a Middle-eastern, I was told  Princess  who donated $20,000.00 in my name to the school whose parents sent her to PA to escape certain conditions, and the age of these minors, meant that they required 24/7 care, and the “best” housing –all provided by PA was in dormitories, so taking a dorm was advised! –if you wanted prime housing, huge houses –head “master” resided in a while mansion in the center of campus –and we slaves resided in lesser accommodations –while I was at PA, my final year there, I had six job offers to six different universities, including the University of New Hampshire where I’d been a graduate student… This seemed extraordinary to me! One job offer came from the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, an offer I accepted, after the contract was re-written to give my then spouse a job, as I refused to come unless he was also employed, so a job was “created” for him! –I spoke up, although he didn’t as we stood on that porch…. I had to delay my start at the University of Michigan because I was pregnant, and there was no problem with the delay… As I said earlier, I became concerned when my then-spouse announced that if he couldn’t have children, then neither could I! As I lived only about 23 miles north of Boston/Cambridge, and as I’d prepared my body for a pregnancy, I realized I was in an ideal location for a sperm donor.  To appease me, my then spouse agreed that adopting another child, a baby would be fine, and made us equal, as neither one of us would be related to that infant; so that’s what happened…. We adopted a baby, a healthy baby from Massachusetts, the other child that my ex-spouse’s father referred to when he announced that I wasn’t a “real” mother –If other players here tell this story, they can’t possibly offer MY point of view! –only their own! –which can’t be like mine. This healthy boy has grown into a man, and he’s innocent of all of this! –he was just a baby, and had no input into what was happening…. He didn’t know until he was an adult that he was adopted at all… But this was information he needed to have.  He was born to a teenage girl in Boston; she was the age I would have been had I actually had the baby from my first pregnancy from the rape.  Perhaps the way I told him he was adopted wasn’t the best way, but he did need to be told, since he hadn’t figured it out.  So much deception in this small family… I’m sorry for everything I did wrong… Except for getting pregnant a second time and actually having that baby! –something I had to do, and time was running out.  I hope that he understands my situation also… Point of view is about all we have, and this is mine; presented from my perspective –just as valid as any other.  I mean no hard feelings for anyone. But I was as real as anyone! And I did want to pass on some of the genetic bounty I’d received, in classes for the for the gifted since first grade, the enrichment program, initially, then major work for the “super-gifted” (4th grade – 12th grade; for which I had to be sent for testing by staff psychologists), –the only way to pass along these intellectual gifts was to have a biological child! –and my father was a mixed race man, mostly Cherokee , Caucasian and some East Indian (as I’ve been told [fairly recently]) –I wanted to pass on that heritage also! he died in 1980, the year before I graduated first in my class and Phi Beta Kappa from Oberlin! –graduated with a 4.11 GPA, lowest grade was in an English class, an “A-“, so I took English to be my relative weakness; only class in which I didn’t attain a ceiling; in every other class, I met expectations, so I focused in English in graduate school…. and filled the space that the “-” created with “limited fork theory”! –how I made “senses” of existences! and (ultimately) movie poams –including: Particle Popping and  Digging on the Muon Blues   And I was getting older; I didn’t have much time left! –I was 36, and my eggs were getting older by the minute, and I didn’t want to risk having a child that suffered because of advanced maternal age… I had to act quickly, despite the edict from my ex-spouse that: “IF I CAN’T HAVE A CHILD, THEN NEITHER CAN YOU!” –I had to act or pregnancy never would have happened; would have been an extinction (there will be anyway; humans won’t always be around –and the world keeps changing, pollution and so forth  –human aggression, and perhaps another mass extinction via comet?–unless we destroy ourselves)   Egg quality matters!     But first, I had to be raped, and I had to have a third-trimester abortion, and I had to get married, and I had to adopt children, and I had to become pregnant by choice, going to a fertility clinic in Cambridge, Massachusetts, after being told that if my then-spouse couldn’t have children, then neither could I, but I also had a need to pass on some of what I considered genetic bounty, and my father (source) was already dead! –I could only pass on some of what I’d received if I had a baby myself! –and I was ready! — my body was optimized for pregnancy! –and most sperm donors are college students, and being near –23 miles!– Harvard Square put me right by Harvard university and MIT! (most sperm donors are college students, so my location was ideal! –for this indiscretion, that gave me what I almost didn’t get to have)–how ideal! –I left the clinic in Cambridge pregnant! –one visit! –I was told that a “good” sample made an enormous difference! –I was there only about a half hour; in my mind, I think that conception happened as I drove home and began a routine of talking to my baby, singing to my baby, reading everything, in multiple languages to my baby! –English, Spanish, and French! –eating mostly fish and uncooked vegetables  from Bread and Circus! –playing a variety of music for my baby! first picture of Anstedhow different this was from when I was fifteen!     Image

I am exceedingly grateful for Donor #513 from Fairfax Cryobank

Everything was fine! –pregnancy was going smoothly! –I loved every minute!   Then I started having preterm labor! (for which I was given Brethine, form of Terbutaline –so successful that my baby was born two weeks late; two nights before his birth, I ate at Legal Seafoods, Arctic char, and plenty of vegetables, large salad –undressed–so was put on complete bed rest, and a bill form the fertility clinic came to our Andover, Massachusetts home, a bill? that my then spouse retrieved? and discovered that he wasn’t the biological father of my unborn child…. All he said to me was: “Didn’t I consider AIDS?” —I had more chance of contracting AIDS from him (just a bit of a philanderer) than I had from the fertility clinic, as donors are very well screened! –certified free of disease and genetic disorder! –well-scrutinized! –so my ex-spouse always knew that he wasn’t the biological father, and I had the baby I wanted to have…. A tasty meal indeed!  My son is a member of Mensa!


Of course I was in love (eventually; fluctuated 
between love of my captor 
guess I really don't know what "true love" is like. 
Maybe I'll find out now; 
first time that I'll really choose a man 
instead of a man choosing himself for me.... 
--I'd never been with a man --other than the rapist
(and now --then-- I was with a statutory rapist, 
from the fire into the frying pan). 
Everything was new to me, especially touching. 
I did like that, 
liked to touch my then husband and to be touched back...
--just the away he trained me, just for him... 

Took me a long time, to reach that point, 
but I did reach it. 
According to him, my ex-spouse was quite popular 
when he was in the military 
and had at least 50 girlfriends. 
When I was 17, still a baby, 
and a "victim" of statutory rape, 
I tore up all their pictures 
(I wouldn't do that now --it's just that 
he seemed so proud of them, 
but since he had me, 
I reasoned that he didn't need them, 
a childish thing to do 
--he was even engaged to one of them). 
He seemed to prefer lighter complexioned mixed women 
(like me),
and women seemed to like him also... 
quite a bit. 
That's what made it so puzzling 
when I found out two weeks 
after the wedding 
--we were already "legally" married, had been so 
for almost two months --so technically, this was adultery; 
but two weeks after the wedding, 
I discovered he'd been having an affair 
for nearly two years, 
with someone much more dark-complexioned than me, 
someone I didn't think he'd ever marry 
--of course not, he married me! 
--someone not his type, based on appearance, 
just someone to f**k, 
and not bring home, 
exclusively in the dark --I guess so they'd both 
blend in! 
(how cruel of me to say, as if this still 
bothers me, it doesn't)
--I discovered this affair quite innocently; 
I'd called him to invite him home for lunch, 
and he wasn't there....

He'd gone to see her, meeting her at the door, 
where she was dressed only in birth control 
--that she didn't know she didn't need-- lunch of sex! 
--that's also why I was inviting him home for lunch!
--I really had prepared some food, 
then I was going to feed him something else, 
even more substantial, lasting on all 
of his palettes...
(except the one for paramours...)

--but I was ready when he came home 
with his grandfather! 
--I confronted him with evidence, 
letters from this Island girl
--her promises of undying love! 
That Island Girl.. That Island Girl also... 
mistress from the West Indies, 
but quite Africanized)
--as typically used, even if incorrectly 
--I'm guilty of incorrect (popular) usage also.
And her signed photo, with messages of undying love 
written on the back, 
her promise that she'd always be available 
(not true; she's moved on with her life, and is 
no longer available to him 
--not that he's looking for her or for anyone
who would always love him 
[recently found her on Facebook, 
and didn't friend her, 
but told her--in a private message-- 
I had no hard feelings..]).

(guess I was just wondering how she looked now, 
and what a confirmation I received.... 
[ouch! --of my own looks] --she's even less his type now....
--well, he didn't frame her picture 
[I didn't tear up this one] 
or leave it sitting out in the open 
--I really had to dig to find it!)
She was more than willing to offer herself exclusively 
for sex... 
(not really trying to rationalize all this; just want 
some perspective
as I move on, and I am moving on... 
Post-menopausal, so no more biological babies for me.
I mean no harm to my adopted children, 
both now adults 
and as happy as they can be
Under these strained circumstances
(probably just as disappointed with some things, as I am, 
maybe even more so)
but I had to drop them in order to move on
into my new life... I cannot take this "baggage" with me.

Truth, from 
my perspective, 
isn't necessarily pretty, 
but it is some truth! 
--I owe all of us some truth!

More truth:
Pity that I couldn't give my biological son 
a sibling; 
no way could I repeat 
what I did in order to have him...
No idea how many siblings 
he might have from the donor.... 
Sure that all of this has wrecked 
his sense of family....

None of us are perfect! Well, 
all of us are are "perfectly" what we are...
--I'm sure that my biological and adopted children 
have things they'd change about themselves if they could....
when they can: we're all in progress, 
not finished as long as we live, and even then, 
disintegrate, decompose
becoming feasts for microbes that are making their living, 
doing what microbes do... (Yes; I enjoyed CSI, among other things, 
and various books about anatomical fodder --after all, 
humans are part of animal systems 
on this planet 
and are as edible as anything else that is or becomes edible 
--there's much that can be ingested 
whether or not it's nutritious, or even designated as food).

My point here is to talk only about what I'm remembering 
and connecting to --temporarily-- none of this is permanent 
via, quite fallible, systems of memory....
Mentioning others only as I must.
Just dressing some of my open wounds.... Just being myself, 
less restricted than I've ever been.... 
but still within (my) limits which keep shifting 
--especially with the MS.


Getting back to a remembering marriage track:
What a fantastic brouhaha! when I confronted my ex-spouse! 
How dare he do this! --two years of this! 
--two years (at least) with the Island Girl
--didn't matter how "pretty" 
I might have been at nineteen! --beautiful bride!

Bride Thylias

Bride Moxie Supper

--I had the ammunition of letters and photo; 
she even gave us a wedding present --don't remember what it was, 
sure my ex-spouse wanted to keep it, a special memento... 
Not to mention tastes of the paramour.... Well, this is what 
a real housewife (at the time) had to say!
--I was livid! How dare he do this! two years of this! 
Oh, I'm told of how they got together: she needed a study group; 
she required a tutor, 
and my then-spouse was so willing to volunteer, 
so needful of casting himself as an educator
--as he was for me: gave me a carnal education that my parents 
--I was in high school!-- knew nothing about!  
--Ostensibly, my ex-spouse and his paramour 
got together to help her in school; 

he could never be of help to me in school; 
I needed no assistance with my studies! 
(well beyond anything he was capable of! --then or now, 
even with my brain having changed as a result of two aneurysms, 
one of which ruptured and almost kiled me)
--think this bothered him just a bit.... Maybe more..
--he was sexual tutor many years ago, 
but never my intellectual tutor or suitor. Never!

--but would I accept this now? No; Hell no!

Then I asked him to leave, 
and he met me at the Rapid Transit station in Higbee's 
every day for two weeks with roses, roses! 
--What exceptional roses they had to be! 
--olfactory stimulation persuaded me to relent.... 
Well, he brought me a rose everyday at home

I want that perfume now!

and then I relented, welcomed him back home, 
was still a teenager,
hadn't learned to demand more for myself
and remained married for 40 years.

Win some, lose some, and keep on going!

I offer some truth, suppressed, some point of view
that still evolves. That will 
probably never be complete. Systems of 
evolution must continue
to allow any of us to travel anywhere, even
revisiting locations that can become
comfortable --especially if visited more
than once.

For the record, just want to state, that 
I've had only two pregnancies in my life! 
one the outcome of violation when I was 15 

--had a third trimester saline induced 
therapeutic abortion to terminate that.

And a successful pregnancy when I was thirty-six, 
a wonderful son, imperfect just like the rest of us, 
BUT MINE! --thanks to a generous, biologically sound, 
no known defects, semen sample was tested 
for any known disease
by Boston IVF, Waltham branch, 
because of where I lived

I do not know him, but I am grateful 
to this Bangladeshi stranger
who allowed my biological fulfillment...

Only these two pregnancies. 
Anything else you hear 
or may have heard is a lie!


Pale Blue Bot – Carl Sagan

My inspiration for today and any day, really, as I do further work on my emerging “Fairy Tale” is Carl Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot”

I go to this video for perspective and meaning; essence of limited forking! –no; this world isn’t ours, and a time will come when none of us will be able to claim anything… I know that for now there’s quality f life, but the time will come, perhaps to for millions, or billions and billions of years; but the time will come when one of the will matter –could be for cosmic reasons, or we may just finish off the planet ourselves, allowing human conflicts and corruptions to dominate better and compassionate judgments… ]

We may run out of the very things, substances that keep us straggling and struggling to be alive.

So many factors, most if which are already out f human control; things we’ve already set in motion must play out! –there’s no turning back! –and we exist in space like everything else; we’re all susceptible to cosmic d=forces, cosmic threats, cosmic demises –such possibilities are also real!

Keep in mind that the Sun is just an ordinary star, and like any other star, the sun will also burn out, if other forces don’t eliminate, devote the death until then –but when the sun burn out, when it loses its ability to sustain this planet, then lights out!  Final! 

Guess I shouldn’t be this dismal as a new year begins, but why not now? –guess I do have some “fairy tale” hope in ” once upon a time” and “they live happily ever after



A day to share with others, no matter what, and a day, like all days to be sure that all are forgiven!  That’s what today is for me! — as 2014 draws to a close, I want all who have ever crossed my path to know that they are forgiven!  –Anything that has ever been done to me, for whatever reason: all is forgiven! because language matters” –language of what we say, don’t say! –language of how we hurt, heal, soothe; language of how we touch, how we interact, how we believe, how we praise, how we denounce, how we live, blame,

–I don’t want this day, this moment this season to end without my spreading forgiveness to all! –including (and especially Charles Jones: a reason for my spiraling): I  forgive him for being the first man to get me pregnant; I forgive him for all of that; I forgive his brother Gregory, for introducing me to Charles, his older brother; I forgive them all.  I forgive Blondell; I forgive Everest Tucker, I forgive Michelle [who I hope will also forgive me]; I forgive Dennis, a son who I hope will also forgve me, no matter how or why he became my son], I forgive LT Randle, I forgive Dothlyn Smith, (for intruding into my  marriage), I forgive my ex-spouse [who remains special for many reasons, and permitted the intrusion of Ms. Smith into the marriage] –sorry if I didn’t mention you by name –but you are in fact forgiven!

–Without becoming a doormat, I still forgive so many, all –and I hold no grudge; All are absolved
–I carry into 2015 none of what has happened to me  during my 60 years…

What Can You Eat Without Guilt?

So much consuming going on, especially at this time of year.


We are indeed consumers, and staying alive means that we must consume –everything must eat something, just to exist…


How thankful I am to whatever allows itself to be consumed… I care that we understand the privilege to allow yourself to be a form for sacrifice to survival of something else… Humans are also animals; I rank us no higher…   Even viruses and bacteria are doing what they must to extend their populations…  This extends to just about every scale, eating, eating, easting –no permanent satiation seems possible… If we eat till we’re “full ” –soon  enough we find ourselves “empty” again, and this cycle of consuming –and making waste, since forms that take in  potential nutrients, don’t always find them to be nutritious, life-sustaining.


This won’t end; even galaxy will consume galaxy… But on a more personal level, many humans will be hungry –even on Thanksgiving, a celebration about food…


Please take time to remember all,

Rho Ophiuchus, Unmodified

Our neighborhood! –very tasty picture! –I eat it up while it eats me up

Werner Priller

This is the next shot of our Bavarian/Austrian collaboration, the famous Rho Ophiuchus region in the constellation of Scorpio, close to the center of our home galaxy, the Milky Way. My first stacked deep sky image done with an unmodified camera, the 5d III, processed by my friend Bernd Weinzierl from Eisenerz/Austria. Please take a lot at his great work here: and a high-res version here: . Some three years ago when I looked at such images, I was blown away by the sheer beauty of them. Today, I´m still blown away…only difference – I´m doing them by myself now – LOL. Here´s an interesting link if you want to go deeper into Rho Ophiuchus: Enjoy!



One of the original Raw-files…



Rho Ophiuchus: 34 images stacked, with a total exposure time of 30 min., East-Coast Australia, Aug. 2013, 5d III & 70-200 @…

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Moxie supper related websites

Please also visit (a primary limited fork website)

Please also visit a t-shirt website visit: (a flash-based site) A flash-based site is here.

For adventures in sonic experiences and many free sonic downloads, based on a presentation at
Vassar College, go here

Also visit here –another forkergirl typepad blog (a forkergirl typepad blog)

Please try these limited fork podcasts:

limited fork podcast

limited fork music

limited fork video anthology


And please check out my i-petition at:

–free to sign! the company hosting the petition may ask for donations, but YOU DON’T HAVE TO GIVE! Please help spread the word!The Penny W. Stamps School of Art & Design should also offer form of Creative Writing! –students should be able to choose traditional writing platforms: English! –or something more “. Please repost, reblog! Anything you can do will help move this machinery! –that often serves to stifle creativity espoused!


Interacting is risky because of exchange of information, some of which might change views held when entering the interaction.  if you want to safeguard your thinking, try not to expose that thinking to other ideas; if you have answers, and doubt that anything else might have answers necessary to your thinking or what you try to do, avoid interacting where you will leave behind bits and pieces of your ways of doing, while picking up from what become a partner in interaction, bits and pieces of information that you can –will– spread as you continue to bifurcate, each time temporarily connecting with something, giving and receiving information, perhaps changing what you think you know.

OUTLIVING CHILDREN (acknowledging that Earth is one of this Universe’s Children)

OUTLIVING CHILDREN (acknowledging that Earth is one of this Universe’s Children)

Very sad indeed for parents to outlive their children.; Something happens to the generations that should not. My paternal grandmother outlived most of her ten children, and for a while, it looked as if my mother might outlive her only child. Fortunately for her, i’m still here alive and ready to try to accomplish more than ever (ideally driving). If not, there are other ways to assert a meaningful presence. For me: limited fork ways.

With all the (rather frequent) tornadic events in the US in 2012, such outliving must be more common, if not more natural. Wars contribute to this dreadful phenomenon –our DNA supports conflict, or we’d have evolved without it. I feel like adding my tears to buckets and barrels of tears –not that my additional tears would help anything, but I still crave such addition –some form of math seems involved, so far, with everything, not that human forms of math are the best or only forms, but as part of humanity, I will continue to submit to them. I must rely, as I’ve always done, on human senses, the only senses I have –even humanity’s instruments improve what humanity can see, hear, touch, etc. I need an equation for tears, but when I add tears, I just get more tears. I do fear that there might not be enough fresh water (or food for populations of Earth, and I do not feel that humans are not more deserving of food just for being human –I doubt that, were other animals in charge, the Earth would be experiencing this decline this fast —some of my assumptions surely show here), and tears tend to be incredibly fresh when produced, so my tears —they aren’t too salty to be fresh— can add a minuscule amount. I can’t cry enough for everything. And looping bifurcating systems may not offer enough to constitute salvation –even if all possible loops are formed. Million of forks, for no reason but to make art that possibly no sentient one will see. Not that humanity’s seeing it makes it any more splendid (note the assumption of splendor –humanity’s Hubble space telescope did not make things easier for me; increased, actually, an accessible amount of splendor.

A time may come when dependence on tears could make a life/death difference –not a splendid difference.

I definitely do not wish to outlive my son. He must go on to live a full life, one that rewards him with joy (however he eventually defines joy). ;what ;successes, generations –if the world lasts long enough. I am optimistic that the Earth will/can endure. For my son, and sons of my sons. Surely, I hope long enough for his life to matter to more people than me. But then again, I am not promoting an afterlife such as what I was taught about so long ago. My mother still insists that her Christian beliefs are the correct beliefs. But I think that what is thought to be known (what I’ve been taught, and what I’ve observed at planetariums and through telescopes [I’ve been ruined, it seems, by Hubble]) about the universe and the solar system cause me to doubt her beliefs. She tells me that the prayer chains she initiated while I was hospitalized affected my outcome –I cannot say with certitude that all that praying did not help, but I wonder about what happens to the body; decomposition seems quite likely to me. Houdini did not return, and I believe that he would have had return been possible. Humanity’s atoms may become available for next forms of life, assuming Earth can continue to sustain life as we’ve known it –not because we have dominion over other lifeforms, but because

I hope we have a chance to improve the earth, to try to return it to some of what it was like during days before greed –that benefitted a few, not everyone– helped to deplete the planet of finite resources. I do not think that we have suffered through all that will have to be endured before planetary decline can be halted or, better, reversed. Maybe it’s too late for reversals. Maybe humanity does not deserve reversals. But I also don’t want belief systems of humanity to perish –all that believing must not have been for naught. Surely. I don’t want human generations to have an abrupt ending, but such an ending may be inevitable. There is interconnectedness among species. As insects and amphibians, for instance, meet demise, lifeforms dependent on those insects and amphibians may perish from those extinctions. Not to mention possibilities of asteroids and comets that may have deposited building blocks of life on Earth –comet Gods, I guess.

I’m not sure how my grandmother coped with being here after so many of her progeny (she had ten children, outlived all but three) were gone, returned to earth her husband tilled for so many years. A southern farmer. She outlived him too. I used to play with their geese, many of which were as tall as I was. He was dead already; never knew him except for what survived in my father and what was passed on to me through him. I’ve passed along some of what I received genetically to my son. Half. Lately, I’ve been impressed that everyone alive now has roots that extend to the first people on this planet. This seems to offer a truth no matter what is believed, creationism or evolution –of course, I thought that Darwin also offered a truth, seriously questioned by the Scopes Monkey Trial –in Tennessee, of course, where my father grew up and met my mother who now rejects everything I was taught in Cleveland, Ohio public schools, but not what I was taught in Sunday school. She is converting the garage into a church (it is not going to become the dolphin tank that my father promised, except in dreams and imagination that would not be mine had he not made the promise). My mother was always with me while my father stayed home, often on the second floor porch, watching, once, me by his side, a funnel cloud form above the church just a few yards away. True Vine. My son was not raised in church as I was; he was raised more to be a free thinker, encouraged to form his own ideas based on what made the most sense to him, and it is not organized religions. This exclusion from church has helped him rely more on logic –another human invention. How can humans not rely on human knowledge systems? Are we not surrounded by what humanity has made, whether for the detriment (according to someone’s assessment) or improvement (according to someone’s assessment) of human lives? Are we not primarily concerned with what may happen to people? Animals primarily as pets and food –for humans? I think of zoos, though I’ve visited many, as comparable to what happened in slavery, the captures that separated families –when animals are captured (I won’t even talk about what happens to animals raised to be human food –no other purpose, the most noble purpose, according to Babe, book by Dick King-Smith, screenplay by George Miller and Chris Noonan –I do eat meat, the sanitized [relatively] forms purchased in supermarkets, relying on others to do the killing and butchering and packaging for me. I do like tastes of meat, and I do experience misgivings about being the carnivore I am, criticizing no carnivore for their carnivore ways –that I share). There is hypocrisy here –how can there not be? I am human– I’ve admitted to eating meat, but I’ve rejected organized ;religions (many of which restrict the eating of meat to certain animals under certain conditions [of preparation] without outright prohibiting such consumption). I do not know all of what Buddhism teaches about the eating (or the not-eating) of meat, (go here for more info), but I reason that we should, even thinking of limited fork tenets, show more compassion toward other animals to whom this planet belongs just as much as to humans. I don’t accept biblical teachings of humanity’s dominion over other animals or over the world –planet. Exceedingly difficult for me to do that. Other animals may not have been as destructive as humans have been. I seem to take more outrage against those who are not free- thinkers than against carnivores; perhaps because I also think that meat-eating free- thinkers may have reasoned that eating meat is acceptable –I am from a family of carnivores, the human family as well as my personal family (my son was vegetarian until ninth grade and a field trip to Chicago where he ate a burger for the first time).

I don’t know whether or not the sacrifice of the cow entered his mind (he is a member of Mensa –not that that membership means he is more or less likely to eat meat; he’s also a member of the human family, and, as I’ve said, we haven’t performed particularly well, given our responsibility for the planet –we are the planet’s [self-appointed —made in God’s image, according to many, including my mother] caretakers). A willing or forced sacrifice? What do we know or understand about cowness? How many of use have really tried to listen to what cows or other animals (including humans) might have to say? Does this understanding or lack of understanding really matter? As humanity runs out of what humanity, in any of its forms, considers food, perhaps this (and similar questions) will be answered. It doesn’t really matter which questions are raised or attempted to be answered according to human ways of processing information –biblical or otherwise acquired– ways of determining which questions to ask in search of a truth accepted by all with liberty and justice– hmm; I’ve heard that before. Even had to recite that daily to get the “A” that I wanted (from the Declaration of Independence –not a declaration of free-thinking). ;

(more legacies of) Slavery

More Legacies of Slavery

Slavery was (is) so much like what has happened (is) happening with credit now –to credit and to citizens. Credit card companies own (most) of us. Every day, my inboxes fill with offers to provide me with credit scores, and/or additional cards. Switch! (I’m encouraged). To speed up shopping, link a card to your account, tap and go! Meanwhile, those at the top are getting richer and richer, and those at the bottom seem to get poorer and poorer, resulting in a vanishing middle class. The gap between the top and the bottom is widening –I hope you like what you’re born into, because moving out of one designation and entering another will be difficult (at best). As I write this, I’m recalling when (some, not all) women got the right to vote –not as impressive to me, perhaps because of (some of) slavery’s legacy: seemed just right for women, from that tradition as its women had always worked –after all, slavery was an (economic) path to getting labor done –an economic path with racial barometers and barriers. For enjoyment, I read When They Were Girls; the they included Clara Barton and, a personal favorite: Susan B. Anthony. Perhaps because of my father’s pale coloring, that book was magical to me, anything that applied to him, I figured (still do) also applied to me, but I was wrong (still wrong) about that. I failed to understand that Susan might not be working on my behalf. She (in pictures I’d seen) and my father were a similar color
–they looked the same.

I come from a household in which my mother and father always worked, so it was not strange to me to be left at home, alone, while adults worked –no matter the job, I was left to my own devices, usually reading and writing till my parents returned. I started writing at age six. The legal right for women to vote was granted in my mother’s country (also mine) in 1920, via the nineteenth amendment to the US constitution. But as a woman of color, she had to wait longer to exercise that right. Slavery, in essence, was extended (even to now). Post-reconstruction America, was not a hospitable place for the variety of citizens that lived here, then and that live here now. Please read more about the USA’s history of low tolerance for racial equality here: ( Read more about some of the history of black exclusion from home ownership via exclusion from bank loans here: (

–such reading can help to change a mind (such as mine) about affirmative action (which has probably) helped me, and is probably still helping me: as I think about policies based on (or rooted in) medical discrimination, especially against those with physical and/or mental abnormalities and/or anomalies. While not at the bottom, I don’t believe (except for perhaps in remembering –no more mental math team for me, I guess!) I am not at the bottom, either. I can still both teach and write, but with more compassion for those excluded from these ranks. I am a better person (seems better to me) because of what I’ve survived, and the ways in which this survival is manifesting itself. (–would be better, perhaps, if not for the banks.)

I do feel enslaved to banks –and to credit card companies (who really own me). My car is mine, however, paid for in its entirety (but, being a 2004 Nissan, the car does require maintenance, that I must pay for –often with a credit card, so until that amount is paid off, I suppose I don’t really own my car –and as balances get too low for the lien holders, I get offers to go into more debt, possibilities of reverse mortgages, etc. (now that the house is nearly paid for) and a general lack of empowerment for me who is not a corporate leader, who owns no valuable stock, and who is not invited to the meetings where decisions are made. I pass nothing on any sides of tables (but I do have to report injuries, –my prior medical conditions– when asked by companies about to make some decisions I’ll have to try to live with –oh my numbered days!)

There was a time after slavery ended when blacks still had no rights, still lived without any real ownership of their lives, couldn’t make legal decisions that would be upheld wherever they went –even within the country, south to north, east to west, etc. (Still a problem for the bi/multiracial and the gays & lesbians in various parts of the world.) Religions have made acceptance more difficult, not easier. It seems logical, for instance, to construct a brown Jesus. Would He not be the color that people from that part of the world tend to be? Our recent enemies from Iran and Iraq? Brown –a dominant skin tone (darker than my own father). The most violent forms of aggression against minorities seem to have ended or seem to be ending. There will, likely as long as there are people, be pockets of violence filled with people who take out their fears and animosities on others. An end of aggression is not upon us, despite turning the other cheek. It seems likely that lynching was an outcome of the end of a terrible system that persisted in the new world longer than anywhere else –and now enslaves us all. My maternal grandfather was murdered, perhaps lynched –this isn’t talked about much; hardly ever mentioned. His absence has been felt; however. He is enigmatic; a person of imagination, not memory. And he is one of my antecedents. Incredibly shadowy –as a lynched figure would have to be.

I am beholden to companies with lots of money, bank wads (–I know that Nene is rich, but I don’t know Nene–), the ones really responsible for my having the stuff I consider mine (could be stolen at anytime –hope not, however). Some of it, I’ve had so long I no longer fear a corporation taking repossession of it (again: could be stolen at any rime, but then wouldn’t be mine tom worry about theft might help get me off the grid where none of this would matter, including blogs and websites –where servers are maintained by others, including the corporation –what I consider my work depends on them).
The house (in need of repair), provided I can hold onto my job for (at least) another five years, will be ours (I’ve been married almost 40 years) –no more mortgage then! Some (all Jehovah’s Witnesses) of my friends –one of whom would have made a superb French teacher, were not supposed to go to college because the world was supposed to end before their graduation –in the eighties. But the world is still here for now –I don’t know for sure –who does; even those who claim to know have based this knowledge on human perception –which remains problematic. For how much longer, no one can say with certainty (–this planet is as vulnerable as any other cosmic object); and right on Earth, we’ve got climate change and its effects (poor polar bears), those wayward asteroids and possibly a return of a comet that took out the dinosaurs (the Earth does indeed have some craters. Click on this link for a list, each item of which is also clickable: It shows, what I believe from what I was taught and what I’ve been exposed to (what I haven’t been exposed to has not had an opportunity to influence me, but if LFT is correct, then such opportunities might have a chance to occur before what we believe is here –according to unreliable human perception– is gone).

Of course, we are capable of annihilating ourselves (hydraulic fracturing may assist with a process of annihilation –but may not– contribute to an ultimate demise that seems rather definite to me. I doubt that humanity will last forever (Limited Fork Theory is all about strategies of doubting; connections could be made in doubt as well as in affirmation). So far, lasting forever has not been a tendency of any terrestrial inhabitants –why would it/should it be different for humanity? For human beings? I don’t think that we are special, no more so than anything else alive. Aren’t we just parts of other species in a long chain of life? Chain is significant, I hope, calling to (some) minds those chain gangs –and a song by Sam Cooke, released on an album: Wonderful World –an album where the rights belong to (Cooke’s first single for RCA):

The Corporation.

Clicking on this link ( will take you to more info about the song. There are, of course, other songs about chains, but the focus is on the song named.

Click on this link ( to read more about how we are corporate slaves –slavery that is a part of, it seems, citizenry (in this democracy –built-in slavery, built-in like appliances also made by corporations. One of the flaws of democracy, that many of us think of a form of (political –to differentiate it, as much as possible, further from religious) salvation. Our money does say: in God we trust.


Quite an insidious system. You never own your little agricultural plot; takes an incredibly long time to buy off your family. You’re encouraged to plant, plow, harvest, but progress is difficult (at best) to measure. This link: takes you to more about sharecropping as Wikipedia reports it (I like how Wikipedia is an aggregate, relying on the knowledge and accountability of users –I see no reason not to trust this user-based system of info dissemination –I’ve been taught to trust the Bible and encyclopedias –Wikipedia is an encyclopedia, but one that constantly accepts info as info become available; it self-corrects, and expands, grows as humanity grows, –is as trustworthy as humanity is– Wikipedia bifurcates, is a bit of LFT in action). Cotton enters here (again): the touch and feel. The fabric of our lives. Please visit and watch the T-shirt skeletons movie, on the website: lex97 and on YouTube: the forkergirl channel.