Hula Circus

Want to play?

Bring your box of toys and join us

where the shore meets the sky

and kisses the lake.

Everything turns gold at sunset

and the beauty the desert generates

is panoramic in its color

and a silent pleading

that says "look at me!"

This is our Dancing in the Desert night.

We started this a couple years ago

after our noon paddles

it was close and the fire was inviting

in the winter after being wet and cold.

Its become a magical setting and

time to let go and be ten,

tho the faces have changed,

some missed,

many new fun seekers have

found their way

to our playground.

And its always different

and guaranteed memorable!

It begins with the positioning of the RV,

the kitchen set up of tables and lanterns.

This time we decide

to rake the multiplying

rocks in our path

and ultimately for our dance floor

(The desert is best for growing rocks)

Its fairly hot mid afternoon

but Ron and I can't stop...

"just a few more,

how about that patch over there...

oh we don't want anyone

to trip over that one."

Our efforts are well received

and if they hadn't been?

That particular commenter

would have been

immediately handed

...the rake!

Then the toy box is unloaded

of bubble wands,

drums, hoops and pinwheels

and of course the bobble bands.

(Which I just can't seem

to hold on to these days!)

And Ron surprises me

with a bubble machine

and it rains glorious little bubbles

across every ones smiling faces.

Everyone arrives

with the usual "bring what you want,

but no tuna casserole" request,

and the food choices randomly works.

Tonight there is

more food than table space!

There are new faces

and some returned from

an absence of time,

and a best friend finally visits.

Everyone glad to be included

and the anticipation hangs in the air!

Music on, glasses, filled, hoops out

bubbles, head gear on, the fun begins

and tonight?

There is entertainment.

Our own little version

of Burning Man.

My hoop instructor Peri

and her husband Ben

bring out the fire toys!

Now these are TOYS!

Poi, a Polynesian tradition

of two burning balls of fire on chains

spun in a dance

and a trail of whirling streaks

follows every move.

Ben is a master at this

and Peri's five wicked hoop

is a tornado of flames and fiery colors!

Pretty soon she is engulfed

in a circle of light!

Its beautiful and intriguing

and there's wild applause!

And something I never even

knew I wanted to do...

I am wondering hhhmmmm?

What if?

By nights end everyone is hooping

even the ones, initially uninterested ,

the LED hoops are a hit,

which although not fire

are brilliant and multi haloed against the

blackness of the sky!

In between we watch Venus chase

the moon into the horizon,

celebrate a birthday with a

poem that is more of a roasting

than thought provoking

(and how I enjoyed that!)

new hoops moves are tried

and people who needed to connect,

finally did!

To anyone driving by

it probably looked like the circus

had come to town?

...Nah... its just us!

So next time your in town?

And if ever wanted to join the circus?

Here's your chance

just show up with your toy box...and rake!

(but remember, no tuna casseroles

...or elephants...

high heels are a bad idea too...

sorry!)

Pam Piper Rain

www.Havahoop.com

Next week: all about hooping and why?

and the building of a Labyrinth

Never been invited to my house?

And wondered why?

I used to LOVE my house

and then I didn't!

For a really long long time.

Relationships, depression,

socializing too much, playing on the lake...

(paddling?)

seemed I was always running

away from home!

Just didn't want to be here!

Day after day looking around

I couldn't see its beauty

only what I had let GO

...for far too long,

only what needed trimming, repair,

paint, patching, replacing

So overwhelmed

all I could do was stare emptily

at my surroundings

and wonder where to start?

Would have still been wondering

if it hadn't been for some

delightful interventions,

(so to speak.)

A paddling friend drops me off

after trying out our boards

insists to see inside...hmmm?

Since she is rather shy, this is big...

she had seen a pic of my renovated studio

and doesn't appear as if she

was going to take no as an answer

(like those before her had.)

So, I acquiesced and

she is charmed...beyond charmed?

And I am beyond surprised.

When she leaves after long witty insightful

dialogue

I am invigorated all at once,

realizing it has been a year and a half

since anyone has sat with me here,

(actually since Jennifer's

last visit!)

I begin to see my surroundings differently

and began to embrace

or shall we say re-embrace my space.

Metaphorically,

I put the claim flag in the ground

and say "okay, this is mine."

My home is old, shabby in ways,

not modern, more "track home-ish"

and certainly not formal

more like an adult play house,

like the ones I built in the woods at ten

only difference?...

This ones not free,

or built with bent nails

my grandfather gave me,

no big gaps of lght in the walls

and there is a street rather

than a path and of course the bills and...

but other than that?

It may be a step up from "a fort!"

When someone commented it

was like Pee Wee's Hermans house

I really, wasn't SURE it

was a compliment.

But what if it is...what if IT

is a extension of who I am?

(not Pee Wee but unconventional creative,

playful?

more silly then serious?)

Shouldn't it be?

Isn't that the best part of growing up?

We get to do whatever we want

and we get to watch how our childselves

find our

adult selves and stand back

and watch them play together

sometimes just for the fun of it all?

Another new friend,

who had read and bought everything

I'd written before being friends,

said she wanted to see my backyard cause I

had formally stated

(years ago) it was

"my greatest masterpiece"

I cringed...well not so much anymore.

Intended to be a place for poets,

woman gathering to write and be wild

get naked (well, not really, I have neighbors...)

but in manner of speaking...

but the only wild things happening here now

is all the stuff I over planted going wild

like an animated jungle out of control.

My idea of "woods" in the desert!

And then came the Facebook request for

a client/friend to bring by an out of town friend

...REALLY?

Are you kidding me?

I allowed it and then actually

encouraged it.

We had a lovely visit and they left with

ideas of their own for her

smaller "new beginnings" space.

We were all inspired!

I was over the hump and

looking around at the possibilities.

So with renewed " attitude for

my humble abode"

I plan to explore how this may be

a better, happier

reflection of me!

And see where a little love

and attention and a lot of work

goes!

And a week of nothing necessary

on my schedule

it was "operation embrace the space"

and instead of Pee Wee Herman playhouse

I decided to think

Alice in Wonderland...instead.

Well, Alice meets Dr Seuss and Van Gogh

on the way to the Safari Circus,

it seems!

With money kind of tight and

the equity line tapped...

going to have to be very very creative...

fix what I might have thrown away before,

and see what I can find for free!

Always thought Havasu should

have a home tour of artist studios,

and maybe this is how it begins?

Gotta run, have lots to do

look for your invite in the mail...!

Cause everyones coming for a swing,

poetry readings or a walk thru

the Labryinth!

Stay tuned for the new developments!

Pam Piper Rain

Dear Day

Dear Day,

I promise to laugh more

than I did yesterday,

to be beauty's most devoted witness,

to compliment and appreciate

the mundane and missing,

to stretch towards

the sun even if it

looks like its about to rain,

and to follow a friend

where ever she may lead,

and all things flying on the 'wild air,'

I promise not to expect anything

that I can't give first.

but to believe in the flow and movement

of all rivers even the unseen ones.

I promise to practice what I love

and say less about it...

play as hard as possible

seeking adventures

in the unexpected occurrences,

to believe with such immediate

and unchallenged faith,

to know nothing

but wonder is coming my way.

and

Dear Day,

consider this my prayer

of 'thank you' before...

you even begin!

Pam Piper Rain

The Magic of Making Poems

Poetry scares some of us

intimidates, conjures up

memories of grade school and the poems

we had to memorize,

the ones that

were impossibly hard to understand

and made no sense

wondering why we had to know this at all

it seems many have had a bad poem

moment that still holds

cringe factor and has created

a wide suspicious circle

around this (to me) very magical language.

This is worth some research I decide

and will address and

ask about it at the next workshop.

Conducting poetry workshops

is a long time dream, goal and passion

for me having had the various opportunities

over the years to

invite a collection of (usually) women

to discover their own powerful voice

thru poem making!

It usually comes as a surprise to them

and I am often and always humbled by

the opportunity to be a witness

to that moment.

Because Poetry comes easy to me,

being my more natural language

than the verbal one

I see it as a way to access wonder and wisdom

my job is to have the net (notebook and pen)

ready to catch the words as they float by

trusting they have landed on the page perfectly

and then, pass them along.

No one is probably more surprised than I

that I have inadvertently made

a living from this

(and my illustrations for more

than 21 years)

What? Really!

My workshop/class/event...

(never sure what to call it...

is mostly just fun exercises)

cause I can't and don't teach anyone

to write poetry

and I could not begin to believe I do

or can...

rather it is to create a space of support,

to encourage and coax the poetry

to happen!

Cause it is my belief

Everyone can write poetry,

everyone!!!

And everyone should!

Before yesterday I had primarily presented

this philosphy to a collection of women

called Mourning to Joy,

the most courageous women I have ever

been in the awe and company of.

It is support group for women

who have lost children

started by my friend, Joyce Floyd.

What has happened there...

is beyond my ability to record,

so I will simply say that thru poetry

these women

found a voice to speak

about their unspeakable grief

and for some it was the first time they could!

Such healing magic came forth.

But would that happen every time?

I wasn't sure ...

would 'would be poets.'

curious ponderers

of wondering "what if?"

be able to capture the floating words

and surprise themselves also?

Oh dear, lets hope so, cause this time

I am a bit terrified

admittedly, as I prepare

and sit with women

who are my friends and people I respect,

value and admire greatly!

Yikes!

I am reminded when presenting anything

speaking with sincere passion

for the subject matter

is key.

So I begin...

I won't give my presentation here...

I would rather you join me in the

physical non cyber realm

for that...so much more fun!

But I start with reading a Mary Oliver

poem about writing

and then hold up my list of rules

for writing poetry...

it is a blank sheet of paper!

It is clear right away this is

the perfect collection

of women for these two hours

whew...!

I know their will be surprises and tears

I know who those will be

but what I didn't expect

was that all of them would be

on the same side of the table

which worked well

because the box of kleenix

didn't have far to travel between them.

This is the part I love

the part that which raises

the hair on the back of my neck

and gives me goosebumps...

Part of the presentation requests

(not requires)

them to read their words out loud,

here is where the magic

and power begins!

At first there is reluctance,

excuses, resistance

some won't even give me eye contact,

and not everyone jumps at the opportunity

to share...

so sure that which has been written

will be judged and is NOT as good

as every one else's creations,

but instead...

what happens is there are

wows, applause, yaay's

and tears...

seems something about

the written language

pulled up,

from the roots of our soul

on our tongues

becomes the taste and sound

of a hymn, a feast

a sigh, a whisper, a prayer

and we know something grand

has occurred!

Don't get me wrong there is also

a lot of laughter

as well...

poems about annoying boys

buried up to their necks in the sand,

(and left there)

weeds being like 711's ,

artichokes

as military vegetables and

prickly pickles in jars of apple cider vinegar

with restless canines.

I am beside myself with joy for it all

and end it with a favorite way

to create poetry called

Telephone poems or Musical poetry.

Everyone starts with a line

for their own page

passing it to our left,

who adds to that line

and on it goes until it comes back to

the originator..

and they wonder

could it possible make sense and how?

You decide...

mine is below and although

I would have loved to have kept them all

to record them here,

no one was parting with theirs,

I noticed,

as they walked out the door

grinning in poetic wonder!

Thank you ladies, you amazed me!

Today, when a message from a friend

said she was sorry she missed

the "Poetry Party"

I thought

yes, that's what I will call it

a party for poem making,

cause its that simple...

that fun!

Pam Piper Rain

Please get on my mailing list

for future parties!

The poem below is written in different colors

to indicate that

each line was written by someone else.

I love this poem!

She Climbed

When she climbed the orange ladder...

the purple crescent moon reached out to greet her

standing on the edge, her heart was alone

foot first, single steps, treading tirelessly,

across the turbulent tapioca turf

a sparkling diamond fell out of the black blanket

into her outstretched hands

It was home, it felt right, the place, to be safe

sitting in the starry night on top of the orange ladder

she no longer felt...alone!