Moedog.

It's 10 AM Sunday Morning and my dad call me, but i missed the call. He left this voice mail:

"Roria, what are you doing? cant be in bed come on. Yeah, I wanna check in with ya..wnated to see if theres a remote...remote chance if i was going to see you over the Christmas break. Yes, i'd like to see you Roria, its the first time i put up a christmas tree in 17 years because I saw you for a moment...a moment. And i know you said you wanted to come up in the during daylight and i think the week i am off for christmas theres gonna be some daylight!...tag! love ya."

My dad always leaves good and playful voice mails.


+

Let your family take you back to your original mind-

With ten years of another part of my life missing and four years being the last time i've seen my father, One day was all it took.

I last saw my dad when i had to undergo a surgery - heavily sedated i made it a point to remember your denim jacket. Other than that day, it would have taken us back to double digits.

December 4th 2010 was a new day stepping back into my (g)olden days. I finally did what has been pent up for years. I went home. Home to a place where I know exactly who i am with a wiser verson of myself. I haven't seen it in over 10 years. Once started as a Log cabin of one bedroom, has now gained height and width. Built with a soul and dream, the site of it brought me to an instant trip of joy and overwhelm-ness.

I can't believe how beautiful the house has come along. I pictured what it would be like to celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas there. With the fireplace lit, snow covering the cabin. There was so much to look at, but all everything showed me a reminder of just how much time had really passed.

It was as if I was able to look back at certain places and see myself in a younger virison. I can remember grading papers with you, the more i helped, the faster you'd come and play. My farther is a Science teacher, with tons of red marked papers. I can remember swimming in the ponds to cool off on hot summer days and the phrase "while most girls put cat's in their bicycle baskets, there's Roria...catching her frogs and putting them in her cannone". I can remember to check for ticks. I can remember the leather hand stitched pillow I used to hate but learned to love. I can remember making you always be the Shoe in monopoly and giving myself the Dog. I remember finishing my plate because "We don't waste in the country" even if my tiny tummy was full. I can remember trips to the post office and breakfast at Blondie's and if i was really good...ice cream at Holy Cow. I can remember going to drive - inn movies and falling asleep each of the 3 times during Free Willie. I can remember being embarrassed every time we went to Grand Union because you would sing all funny in between the isles. I can remember sleeping on the wooden floor and watching the popping of the lit fire. I can remember learning to drive the Jimmy, Bronco and pick up truck. I can remember failing Uncle Richie's quad road test the first time. I can remember when i earned the title "Mountain Woman." I can remember going back home to moms house being filthy. I can remember when I had a tick stuck in my head. I can remember when you wanted "downtime" which ment it was time for a nap. I can remember shaving your head and drawing a smiley face on top....out of mustard. I can remember falling through the ice. I can remember pulling down trees for fire wood. I can remember after dinner it was always "The kitchen is closed" I can remember rolling down the hills in the construction tubes. I can remember going hiking and hunting. I can remember "Indian Jodie" braiding my hair in grass. Some of my favorite childhood memories have been made on the lands of my fathers. But things happen, and so did the years.

I've made and chosen to set aside what is it that happened. From here on out I am working to patch things up. I've missed that life, and oddly enough where i've been has strangely always matched up. There is still so much i need to discover about myself and understand. Through my father i am finding such. I have never been so in tune with myself than this year. And now i can finally get answerer's to all that i have been wondering about. I am happy with my moves made but I know things wont unfold in the matter of days. This is something that will have to basically be reborn, reintroduced....from both parties. I am up against a lot but am for it. As cliche as it sounds...."the time is now."

+

harvest moon-

and this too-

Send me on a whirlwind of emotion.

Everytime.

train of thought-

Yesterday I had this huge, out of body experience when I literally saw the world outside of it's self for a spilt second. Enough to latch on to ONE of the many things that flashed before my eyes. I can't really explain it- because it's a day later.  All I can say was the way i normally think, or would have thought was changed. And everything that was spoken about within the same day, week, moment and what not...all came together. Like a true mad woman, i ran to my room and got my red journal. A book of the most RANDOM of words, phrases and doodles. I get these moments a lot but this.....was profound. It began from the bowl of NOOR food. (middle eastern foods) I had gotten it the night before. A collection of meats: Spicy chicken and lamb covered in a white sauce, over rice and a salad. It was bomb. With too much to eat, i saved it and brought it home. The next day was lunch time and i figured i'd eat it. "We don't waste in the country" is a phrase FOREVER implanted in my brain from my dad. But back on track....so i go to eat this meal and it's just not going well as it did the other night. I start to panic because it's NOW that i am having this huge revelation in my kitchen. I just remember hating how this food tasted and how the texture of it, really bothered me. Which then brought me back to as of lately i've been having this hard time eating meats. And let me just first state, I LOVE a fat juicy stake, medium rare to rare. But as of 4 months ago, some meals have been giving me a panic attack. I've never had this before, stupid i'm aware. If i begin to feel the texture, and/or think about the meat itself...I bug out. To the point, i love lobster but 3 years back I remember clear as day my mom making lobster for Christmas dinner and when she placed it on my plate I began to...basically disetc it like a science project and it just bugged me out....full blown panic attack at the table. and since then, i haven't eaten it. Even a scene from a David Lynch movie called "Earserhead" popped into my head. In this fucked up of a movie, cooked baby chicken is being served for dinner, but it still moves and bleeds and gets eaten....BUT TO GET BACK TO THE MAIN FOCUS....so it's been really bothering me. Now, rewind back into this crazy revelation and further before that day.....Takes you well, me back to my vacation where i met this older lady and her daughter. Her daughter a vegetarian. The mother...well here's her story. I randomly found myself talking to this lady and her daughter... the mother asked me how i liked the food on the ship...spoke my piece, not even knowing what i really did think just rambled to end it. I somehow reversed the question and thats when it it home. She had began to tell me how it was hard. Hard for her daughter and hard for her to eat. Being it was in fact Thanksgiving and her daughter was a vegetarian, got it....hard. She, on the other hand shared a story that was wild. She was one day baking cookies with her daughter, when it was time to eat them, she had spit the cookie back into a napkin. She had thought her daughter went a little too crazy with the sugar/salt. Not the case. What had really happened is some freak thing. She had completely lost all the sense in her taste buds. Also gained the act of acid reflex. I felt really guilty, in the sense of how I was almost subconsciously selfish in what i ate. Which made me think of meats and animals. She shared that if she were too eat certain things, she would be sick for weeks. She pressed on how it's awful and now can't enjoy some of her most favorites of foods. It hit home for me, but only in the moment. Now, we channel back into my kitchen...with that story weighing down my mind, the unannounced meat attacks, and the idea of generally being more healthy which has too been a reoccurring thing...I realized maybe it's my time to give up meat. Sure, a little bit goes out for the 'animal sake' but i have got to be honest, i'm not one of those. Too many little moments that made me check myself finally added up. I do overall want to become more healthy. I ended up throwing away the food, and breaking dad's rules. (ha) I spent the rest of day meat free. I hope I can carry this out. By no means am i an overnight vegetarian, I think if I void out such...it will get me to the image i have in my head. Which is another train of thought but wayyyyyy to detailed to even visit again. But this is what happens, i carry this out until the next big the to have all my focus. Stay tuned.

What i'm working on:
+ Eating better
+ Daily Meditation
+ Use of candles
( by the way, claps for me. Lastnight i regained the use of being able to have an open flame in my room.
It was taken away when i lit the side of our house on fire, and also when my towel on my head went up in flames.)
+ Reading and FINISHING one book at a time.
+ Studying images daily so they reflect my life.

black medic.

I, only knew of the known secret.
the dirt under my fingernails would have given me in.
I have questions that I'm afraid your tongue can't answer.
he exhaled slow-
the second hand air, danced across the skin of my cheek.
i have your eyes and your smile,
but i don't have your back.
+

Gloria Roria.

"Hey you know what's really weird? Los Angles California has the best landscape and climate and all that but New York has the grooviest people!" - Jim Morrison

Roria: A nickname that i commonly go by when i'm upstate. My Dad gave me this name ever since I was a kid, in fact I don't even recall him ever using my real name. Deli men, family members, Teachers, Family friends all know me as Roria. The irony is that my dad being if not a bigger doors head than i am - but a song called "Gloria" is a minor staple of where it originated from. I can relive days truckin' in my dads Bronco, and him singing "ROOOORIA!" instead of "Gloria" There's a lot of significance as to why I am a fan, not only for the best music made and lyrical trip but it's a sense of home for me. It might not come off as anything to anyone but to me, it's just a place where my head can go and be immaculately in tune with all i know, my mind, body. Home. I definitely see it as a spiritual awakening, like i've said before no two feelings are alike but when i listen, but they match up and make perfect sense. Anyways, I ment to originally blog about the fact I accidentally drove more than 3 blocks with my foot on the break because I got so into the live version of Gloria. For those of you that don't know it....Jim does what he does and gets raunchy and yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh road that break! hahahaahaha i laughed at myself.

You were my queen and I was your fool,
Riding home after school.
You took me home
To your house.
Your father's at work,
Your mama's out shopping around.
Check me into your room.
Show me your thing.
Why'd you do it baby?

Getting softer--slow it down
Now you show me your thing.
Now why don't you wrap your lips around my cock baby!
Wrap your legs around my neck,
Wrap your arms around my feet,
Wrap your hair around my skin.

I'm gonna eat ya honey, im gonna  eat ya baby
i'm gonna huhhhhh--all right, ok, yeah.
It's getting harder--It's getting too darn fast
Come on, now, let's get it on.
it's gonna rip you in two
Too late, too late, too late, too late, too late,

Make me feel all right!

Keep the whole thing going, baby!

+ I just cant get enough!

Hey Dad-

you would be so proud of  the you in me now.





+ Roria.

lastnight, you should have heard what the big dipper said to me.

On the nights of August 11th and 12th I laid in the grass of my backyard, with a set of binoculars, glasses and a compass watching Perseids! The Perseid meteor shower was known as the "Tears of St. Lawrence." The Perseid meteor shower is an annual meteor shower - Every year, the earth passes through the debris cloud left by the comet when the earth's atmosphere is bombarded by what is popularly known as "falling stars" Thus, is what we watch for! It is not uncommon to see at least 60 meteors per hour streaking through the moonlit sky! Although on August 12th, the sky was rather cloudy, I didn't get to see much. I did however, school joe in Mac and Cheese lessons with bacon and ketchup! He say's I was the most prepared to see the stars! That's because i'm the daughter of the kooked out science teacher! If my dad taught me anything, it's how to find the stars. I love everything about space. I'm a sponge for knowledge dealing with the Stars. I enjoy star gazing so much - to the point I had at least 6 people informed about the shower and to watch. Jay Cinematic claims "I'm so full of life, it's awesome!" Weee! I previously blogged about my dads teachings - I really appreciate learning about this kind of stuff and am thankful and I can still teach myself just from knowing certain things from my dad. On the night of the 12th I saw at least 2 shooting stars, packed it in ealry though. Keep your eyes to sky tonight, for you too shall see nature at it's best! And you're never too old to make a wish :o).

+

Chief.

. Today's inspiration .

HOPPY EASTER.

"...I put an egg...under the bird bath. Tag."

- My dad.

He leaves me the same message every Easter.

+

Science v.s. Nature

I've always wanted to own a shitty, big ass Ford Bronco, covered in mud, manual roll down windows and I don't really know why. Well, maybe because that was my dads ride, he's a real country guy. And when I would see him I would fight for the front seat, because I was able to work the cassette player, AC/DC was always on. When I didn't hear them, the rattling of the POS was the main sound, but it was a good sound(?) Meaning, the sound of shit [about to fall off] brought a smile to my face, god only knows why. But, he always made smoking a cigarette in this car look...so bad ass. And the mud was just the right amount. And the amount of times I hit my head jumping up to get into tha car and hop in the back was endless, or how many times "ANG" would shove the seat back in place BEFORE I was done getting in. Therefore, the seat that he was pushing on, was litterally shoving me in the backseat, obviously I lost at "shotty." (Eileen can you hear my YOUR SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR BIKE ANG! voice?") I don't know where this blog is going, nor was it the topic of what i was intentually going to write about...oh well, I'm going to roll with it. But not just anyone could drive a crappy, run down Bronco. It takes character, followed with an image of someone with rough hands; working hands. See, my dad lives upstate...in the twigs. What I used to say, "Where the Blair Witch was filmed" so he was constantly working outdoors, no matter the season or weather. Always filthy. Always diggin' up something, building something, burning fires, cutting his 14 acres of property with a friggin' weedwacker. Always made me laugh, because it normally took him 2 days + to finish. I would lap him when I drove the quads, drive by and laugh, he was cutting in the same area. He fits the "Bronco image" to a T. Now that I touch base on this, I don't think I am ready for it. In my defense, he did ALWAYS put me to work. I probably took down and cut down more trees than the average girl. If I wasn't cutting trees down, I was hunting....of course not shooting animals! I was lugging all the equipment while daddy-o made me go on hour long hikes while I threw deer dumps at him. I loved the hikes though. He was/is a science teacher, so he knew all weirdo facts...fact: he is a weirdo. He always thought new lessons on hikes. Showed me what I could eat from growing plants. I remember this one plant, you split it and it smells like Winter fresh gum. I called it the "Winter fresh plant" because I was such an original thinker back then. Miles away from my dads Log cabin', because after all...."WE are in the country" that's all he ever said! OK, miles away...deep in these woods, there was always something new. No matter how many times we've trailed through the woods...I would always find crazy old antiques, old glass bottles, once bullets, an old shack and this dope iron gate. It was beautiful and stood high. The ONLY thing that wasn't new, were the rock walls. Evey so often, hiking through the woods, you'd see rock walls. I was once taught a lesson about the land, although I must have been a bad listener because I forgot..that or i was too busy trying to find a good hiking stick. Those are well needed. You need a stick for support and to dig into the ground when your going up hill or to trip your dad. But Rock walls and land... I think it had something to do with Indians and the time of war. The rock walls served as protection and their share of the land. That's all I remember. The best feeling in the world just might be, sitting in a tree and watching deers eat. It really is so peaceful and cute at the same time. How anyone can shoot them is beyond me. Although, they do make for some good ass meat. I'm sorry. It was a one time deal. Even when they would run off, putting their tails up, showing the white end on the tail ment they were scared and sensed something around them. God knows I wasn't able to be quite and sit in one spot longer than 5 mins in those trees. So off they would run, white tail up and all. Bye bye Bambi. Once we got closer to home, I was now leader of the hike. My dad use to make me navigate which is a joke itself. Everyone knows i am HORRIBLE with my sense of direction, go figure, I can find my way out of the woods like a boss. Oddly enough, I used landmarks...even though everything in the woods looks the same, dirt, trees, poop, animals and rocks. Once we got to our property, it was tradition like to go into what we called "coolie dipping pond." It was a stream that turned into a pond, that at first, you can only dip your butt into tha water, but then you travel up stream and you are able to swim! And trust me, you wanted to swim. I used to be called "Mall Girl" when I was younger, that was because I was a New Yorker. Pops really doubted I had what it takes to get down and dirty. When I got a little older, I earned my name as "Nature Woman." He used to call me that because I did in fact, like to get dirty. Catch fish and frogs with my hands. Swim in ponds. Squish my feet in the mud. Shower out doors. Sleep outside. He was so good at teaching me about the stars. I think he tought me to love Astrology honestly. A fire was built and beside it we sat on logs looking up at the stars, flash lights as pointers. Feeding me "quite food" which was Hersey chocolate bars. That always got me to shut up, still does. It's weird to think, outdoors and nature can shape you into a person. It totally has for me. Although my outer layer gives off the cupcake dress wearing type, the inner me is adventurous tomboy-like explorer. NY isn't much of a playground for me. Nor is my dad much of a teacher anymore. I miss those days, and I miss that dad. I'll keep the best; as the present image. Remember when I said I want a bronco? Add log cabin' to the list.

. It needs to be dirty and more hooptie to own my heart, but I still got love.

+ My dad lives in Rhinebeck and before the cold weather comes, I've been considering taking a drive up there. It's a little over 3 hours long of a ride. But the town is absolutely gorgeous and filled with history. A great place to capture amazing photos. Let me know it you are interested!