A Doorway

A doorway. That's how my grandmother Amy used to call death. It was the Tlingit way of thinking. Strange though, my mom who is a christian thinks of it the same way, as a doorway where our true selves pass through in our true form, a being of light and spirit. The stuff of presence alone. What got me thinking about such a morbid thought? Yesterday was the anniversary of the fire which destroyed my family and claimed the lives of my two beautiful daughters Crystal and Amanda. They will be forever 15 and 16. I still remember that night like now. I remember them (the firemen) taking too long. They had lost that sense of urgency you see when something can still be done. I think if I didn't truly believe that we are not our bodies but in our bodies I would go insane. The kind of insanity only a parent could understand. I will never again take for granted a simple breath of cool air . How many breaths would it have taken? You see the insanity thinking like that would lead? All that can be done is not to waste or dishonor the time left that they were denied. And remember that they are no longer limited by the senses of their bodies, but were released from them and can see and feel so much more than I yet. We are caterpillars on a leaf, and one day we will all get our wings. But first you must pass through a door.

Just a note....

I know I havn't been too consistant with this blog, but I'll try to do better in the future. First to acknowledge this tragic day, 9/11. What more can I say? All americans know how to feel in their own way, I'll leave your thoughts to yourself as I know how I feel.
On a lighter note..... Kudos to my friend and assoc. Playboy Buddy Rose for being featured in this months WWE Raw Magazine, in the "Where are they now?" article. It covered his early days as a WWF superstar up to his present day running of a wrestling school in Portland Ore. Very cool Buddy I'm happy for you.
I'm hanging out at my Mom's doing laundry picking her brain on growing up a Tlinget in Alaska, some early Alaskan Native rights activism on my militant grandmother's side, and a few interesting stories from those days of early Alaska. All will be useful when I finally write that darn book!
On the artistic side, my oil painting is starting to flow, maybe I can pick up the pace to produce more than one canvas every other month or so....(packing on the glazes and layers takes a hell of a lot of time with oils) and my daughter

Bonnie is starting her tattoo apprenticeship at Smitty's Place Tattoo, very cool, maybe the shop will stay in the family after all! We will see....and so it goes!

Mea Culpa Rex?

Why Mea Culpa Rex? The name I settled upon for this blog...Mea Culpa, which is Latin and means "My Fault". I thought that appropriate, as everything that will be posted,text ,graphics the whole thing will be.....well my fault. As it should be. As for the "Rex". It too is latin, meaning "King" or "Royal". So it is Royally my fault!
In all the reading about blogs I have done , one of the pieces of advice I've gleaned was to keep on topic...whatever the topic of your blog might be. Problem....what if your topic was no topic, sort of like Seinfeld's "show about nothing". Hmm. Which leads me back to Mea Culpa. This blog is basically about all topics I am exposed to, through my eyes and brain as I experience them. Kind of an editorial, or propaganda from my grey matter...so be it "My Fault".