Tuesday, August 9, 2016
When the hearts of the givers are filled with hate, their gifts are small.
Chief Plenty Coups, Crow, 1848
Ginger Kathrens named a blue roan stallion Plenty Coups in honor of the last Crow Indian chief.
I felt the sacredness in the crags and nooks of the ancient rocks. I sensed their secrets. I smelled mustangs.
Here is the mud, and there is the lotus that grows out of the mud.
We need the mud in order to make the lotus. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
For over two months now I've taken a liking to Janis Joplin.
(Chad would say I am absorbed).
We just happened to watch an American Masters premiere showing of the documentary Little Girl Blue.
I was hooked.
I'm consumed with her life story. Every biography that was written on her is stacked on my bed stand. I'm enthralled by who she was, her path and what she became. I'm also kind of tormented by it all.
The funny thing is, the more I know about her, the more I can relate to what kind of person she was, what she was like as a teenager, what she did, why she did it, what she thought about, how she felt about things and I feel for her.
(I, too, am made fun of by the way I cackle when I laugh).
I could have been her friend. I would have been her friend.
The book I'm getting the most out of is "Love, Janis", written by her sister, Laura Joplin. It's precisely and lovingly written with all the details one would beg for. Her story is bittersweet. When I look at pictures of that young woman, dressed in her beatnik clothes and layers of beads, her wild hair, cackling with laughter, she was always smiling. I've grown so fond of Janis that now, her music is constantly playing in the car and on my stereo.
When I pull on my bell bottoms and throw strings of beads around my neck, silver bracelets up my arm; when I never brush my hair and talk a little bit too loud, I am not copying her.
I am being myself.
This is the way I've always been.
When I was a teenager I never listened to her music. She had this raspy, shrieking voice that I wasn't attracted to. Janis wailed the psychedelic blues. I did however listen to Jimi Hendrix.
I was into playing Joni Mitchell and James Taylor records. Folk music.
But, after watching that documentary and learning about what that girl went through,
I would say she had every right and reason to yell and scream her songs.
She was shouting out to the world "Listen to THIS!"
And she had soul. A whole lotta soul.
Saturday, July 2, 2016
Saying goodbye to another summer evening on Green Mountain.
Holding on tightly to the memory. To one more treasured day spent with the wildest horses I know.
Because after this summer, most of them will be taken away. Bands will be split apart. Foals will be separated from their mothers. Stallions will be jammed in a pen together. And it's unessesary.
In an instant they will lose their families and their freedom.
All because of cows. For the profit of ranchers.
And because the BLM won't make an effort to manage them like they're suppose to,
Some herds have been successfully managed by the use of a birth control vaccine called PZP. With a darting gun, pellets are shot into the haunches of wild mares.
Dart guns instead of helicopters.
"PZP, long used on large zoo animals and wildlife species, has proven a success in controlling horse numbers with BLM-managed herds in the Pryor Mountains of Montana and Little Book Cliffs of Colorado, according to Jay Kirkpatrick, the veterinarian who developed the vaccine in the 1970s."
If you're interested in reading more about this, here is a link:
It's very interesting, a better solution and extremely important, especially right now.
We must get involved. We've got to be vocal!
I'm so happy to tell you that I will be going to Montana to take part in a three day class to become certified to dart wild horses. I will do whatever I can for the good of America's mustangs. A friend told me it's my destiny.
I believe she's right.