I walked away from years of mindlessly chemically processing my hair to letting it do what the Creator intended for it to do...go wild and be affectionate with itself.

This album is dedicated to the somewhat random things I do with my life. I expect to update it frequently. Stay tuned. Photos 1 - 17, 6-16-2007: Belly dancing segment of the Joy of Movement series I created then co-led with Collete for the Saturday Summer Enrichment for OFL. Photos 17 - 66, 8-2-2007: A birthday party Terra invited me to. Photos 67- 78, 8-18-2007: Victoria invited me to hoopdance on Hafla, her cable access show. Photos 79 - 94: Labor Day 2007; Photos 95 -121: Underworld at the Hollywood Bowl 09/09/07. Photos 122 - 172: Skate Park at the Bill Botts Field 10-09-2007; Photos 173 - 205 Shakori Hills Grassroots Festival, Silk Hope, NC 04-17-08;

series I created then co-led with Collete for the Saturday Summer Enrichment for OFL. Photos 17 - 66, 8-2-2007: A birthday party Terra invited me to. Photos 67- 78, 8-18-2007: Victoria invited me to hoopdance on Hafla, her cable access show. Photos 79 - 94: Labor Day 2007; Photos 95 -121: Underworld at the Hollywood Bowl 09/09/07. Photos 122 - 172: Skate Park at the Bill Botts Field 10-09-2007; Photos 173 - 205 Shakori Hills Grassroots Festival, Silk Hope, NC 04-17-08;

LA Decom 2004 -- what a BLAST!

Me and the little webcam that could. lol

The Greensector New Year's make-up party. Jan 7 and Jan 8 2006 at the ranch.

Okay...so once again I was lost in the desert. This time for six hours (which breaks my record of four hours) thanks in part to direx that were pretty unclear and a freekin' sign that told me that the way I wanted to go was 1000 feet to the right, when it was actually to the left...I've been here before, but my more complete direx are somewhere in storage...Sigh. So, three maps, a compass and an atlas later, I finally focused enough to apply my newest credo: "If you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you've always gotten." So I turned and went the opposite direction and then found it at noon or something. I left the 14 at the 138 at 6:15 am.

way I wanted to go was 1000 feet to the right, when it was actually to the left...I've been here before, but my more complete direx are somewhere in storage...Sigh. So, three maps, a compass and an atlas later, I finally focused enough to apply my newest credo: "If you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you've always gotten." So I turned and went the opposite direction and then found it at noon or something. I left the 14 at the 138 at 6:15 am.

I was honored to be in the presence of lovely Mary for her birthday. Her spirit, her love and her angelic glow will always inspire me to be stronger, better and more at peace with myself. xoxox

(the fuzzy ones are me being experimental with my new toy. you like?)

xoxox

(the fuzzy ones are me being experimental with my new toy. you like?)

This is a special place...I've been to this land at least 1/2 a dozen times...so it's not a magical place like the Reservation for the 10 and 11 year (I missed the 12th year).

Sometime between mid July and mid-August, I went to three parties. One was a tiny desert party, another was an outdoor party at a park in Van Nuys and the third was a Greensector party at the Ranch. Enjoy!

Enjoy!

Elizabeth's Birthday...rerouted to Highland Park cuz the mountains were on fire. :P

The Family Reunion of the Century

Summer 2006

So...there I was, driving along, not paying attention, not reading my directions and well...let's just say I spent the five hours trying to dig Raggy out of the Sand. Sand that was half way up my calf when I got out of the car. This of course breaks my record of six hours -- I got stuck at about 7:30 pm Saturday night. I got rescued at around 11 am the next day by Skip. Yeah. Everyone was really happy to see me. I felt really loved.

calf when I got out of the car. This of course breaks my record of six hours -- I got stuck at about 7:30 pm Saturday night. I got rescued at around 11 am the next day by Skip. Yeah. Everyone was really happy to see me. I felt really loved.

The Fantastic Los Angeles Decompression ;)

So what started out as a belated Scorpio birthday / Thanksgiving after-party morphed into the beginning of something beautiful. Beautiful friends, amazing sounds, nature's majesty, warm spiced wine...It was perfect

wine...It was perfect

This is 6lbs., 13 oz., and 20 inches of pure love.
Born: 12/07/2006 @ 10:33 am

Miscellaneous Nature Shots...

So...Yeah...I was supposed to be in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico at 1:00 pm on Wednesday. Tuesday night I went to the airport 2 hours ahead of time my 11:55 pm flight to check in. Little do I know that my driver's license is not going to be enough to leave the country. I need my birth certificate OR my voter registration card. Both are at home, which is about six miles from the airport. Not a problem, except my friend Cynthia has my car. With my cell phone in it...not that it would have mattered, because Cynthia's cell phone was out of order. I reschedule my flight for 10 am Wednesday morning. So I take a cab to my apartment thinking that the guards have a master key and should be able to let me in. They do not and cannot. They suggest I call a locksmith. Which I cannot do. I give the cabbie my credit card for a $31 charge which is declined. He is not happy. He very bitterly gives me a business card and I promise to pay him and his company the next week. I go back to the guard shack to plead and beg. After about 10 minutes, I realize...my bag is still in the cab driver's trunk. I use the guard shack's phone to make a frantic call to the cab company. Who cannot reach my driver. I give the operator his cell phone number. She is able to reach him a few minutes later, but then needs to hunt down a Korean Translator, because he speaks almost no English. I will be able to pick up my bag sometime the next day. I inform the operator that I have to be at the airport at 8 am for a 10 am flight. There's nothing she can really do. I hang out with the guards for a few hours til maybe half past midnight, then steal a chair from their shack and drift in and out of a conscious state next to the roof access door above my apartment. It's about 49 degrees outside. I am desperate for daylight. I ran down the stairs every two hours (luckily I sleep in two hour intervals) at five forty, I stand next to the gate hoping that one of my neighbors is going in the direction of Cynthia's house...the few people that I have the guts to ask are all going the opposite direction, of course. One of the guards (Milton) lends me a dollar and tells me which bus will get me closest to Inglewood. At 6:20 (because I narrowly missed the 6:08 am bus by standing on the wrong side of the street) I board the bus and with the help of another kind stranger who gives me a quarter for full fare. I ask the driver how to get to La Cienega and the 405 and she is not sure, since she's from Oakland and this is her first day driving route 212. A slightly surly teenager tells me to take route 108 at Overhill and Slauson. I board route 108 and am faced with another surly person--the "transfer" that I was given on route 212 is only valid on non-MTA buses. The driver is bitter, but lets me ride. All the way past my correct stop. I get to the Fox Hills Mall and ask her whether she's going to eventually get to La Cienega and the 405 and she says, "no, but the bus behind us is going right back where we just came from." Finally, I get back to La Cienega and Slauson and wait about 10 minutes but decide to walk the 1-1/2 miles to Cynthia's house off La Cienega and the 405--not that any of this mattered. I get to Cynthia's house at about ten after 8...the turn around trip from her place to mine in morning traffic, on a week day got me back to her house at around 9:15. We left her house at about 9:25. I get to the check-in counter at exactly 9:40 am for a 10 am flight. They absolutely, positively will NOT let me on the plane. Even though it's still there, even though the doors are not shut, even though they haven't sold my seat and even though people are still boarding. The only way that they will allow me on the plane is the next day (Thursday) at 10 am. So I sit with no luggage except for my hoops, con them out of some free calling cards and arrange for Cynthia's friend and my former co-worker Kevin to lend me $40, give it to Cynthia so that Cynthia can get my bag back from the cabbie. She is able to do so and brings it to me that night at around 9:30 pm. So I sit and I sit in the airport. At around midnight, I ask one of the guys whether or not they "have some peanuts squirreled away some place, because I am famished." He returns with a Turkey Croissant. Best ever. I am able to check in at 4 am. I get on the plane at probably 9:40 am. I get to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. With absolutely NO money and no cab waiting for me and no way of knowing whether or not my peeps got the frantic email that I sent from home regarding the fact that I was dealing with a serious SNAFU of mass proportions. The people at the Delta counter in Mexico, after hearing the above story, take up a small collection of 25 pesos (about 2.50 US) ensure me that they have reached a person at the hotel who can go find Alison and the rest of the girls and arrange to meet me on the beach with fare for the water taxi. Then they give me directions to take two buses, one through Puerto Vallarta to Old Town Puerto Vallarta and from there to Boca Tomatlan. It would take about an hour and 15 minutes, but I had to hurry, because Boca Tomatlan is the last place where I'd be able to catch the last Water Taxi of the day to Yelapa, which is 40 miles away and accessible only by boat.

So far of all the days I have lived, those four days were far and away the best days, so far, of my life. Enjoy. I did.

my driver's license is not going to be enough to leave the country. I need my birth certificate OR my voter registration card. Both are at home, which is about six miles from the airport. Not a problem, except my friend Cynthia has my car. With my cell phone in it...not that it would have mattered, because Cynthia's cell phone was out of order. I reschedule my flight for 10 am Wednesday morning. So I take a cab to my apartment thinking that the guards have a master key and should be able to let me in. They do not and cannot. They suggest I call a locksmith. Which I cannot do. I give the cabbie my credit card for a $31 charge which is declined. He is not happy. He very bitterly gives me a business card and I promise to pay him and his company the next week. I go back to the guard shack to plead and beg. After about 10 minutes, I realize...my bag is still in the cab driver's trunk. I use the guard shack's phone to make a frantic call to the cab company. Who cannot reach my driver. I give the operator his cell phone number. She is able to reach him a few minutes later, but then needs to hunt down a Korean Translator, because he speaks almost no English. I will be able to pick up my bag sometime the next day. I inform the operator that I have to be at the airport at 8 am for a 10 am flight. There's nothing she can really do. I hang out with the guards for a few hours til maybe half past midnight, then steal a chair from their shack and drift in and out of a conscious state next to the roof access door above my apartment. It's about 49 degrees outside. I am desperate for daylight. I ran down the stairs every two hours (luckily I sleep in two hour intervals) at five forty, I stand next to the gate hoping that one of my neighbors is going in the direction of Cynthia's house...the few people that I have the guts to ask are all going the opposite direction, of course. One of the guards (Milton) lends me a dollar and tells me which bus will get me closest to Inglewood. At 6:20 (because I narrowly missed the 6:08 am bus by standing on the wrong side of the street) I board the bus and with the help of another kind stranger who gives me a quarter for full fare. I ask the driver how to get to La Cienega and the 405 and she is not sure, since she's from Oakland and this is her first day driving route 212. A slightly surly teenager tells me to take route 108 at Overhill and Slauson. I board route 108 and am faced with another surly person--the "transfer" that I was given on route 212 is only valid on non-MTA buses. The driver is bitter, but lets me ride. All the way past my correct stop. I get to the Fox Hills Mall and ask her whether she's going to eventually get to La Cienega and the 405 and she says, "no, but the bus behind us is going right back where we just came from." Finally, I get back to La Cienega and Slauson and wait about 10 minutes but decide to walk the 1-1/2 miles to Cynthia's house off La Cienega and the 405--not that any of this mattered. I get to Cynthia's house at about ten after 8...the turn around trip from her place to mine in morning traffic, on a week day got me back to her house at around 9:15. We left her house at about 9:25. I get to the check-in counter at exactly 9:40 am for a 10 am flight. They absolutely, positively will NOT let me on the plane. Even though it's still there, even though the doors are not shut, even though they haven't sold my seat and even though people are still boarding. The only way that they will allow me on the plane is the next day (Thursday) at 10 am. So I sit with no luggage except for my hoops, con them out of some free calling cards and arrange for Cynthia's friend and my former co-worker Kevin to lend me $40, give it to Cynthia so that Cynthia can get my bag back from the cabbie. She is able to do so and brings it to me that night at around 9:30 pm. So I sit and I sit in the airport. At around midnight, I ask one of the guys whether or not they "have some peanuts squirreled away some place, because I am famished." He returns with a Turkey Croissant. Best ever. I am able to check in at 4 am. I get on the plane at probably 9:40 am. I get to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. With absolutely NO money and no cab waiting for me and no way of knowing whether or not my peeps got the frantic email that I sent from home regarding the fact that I was dealing with a serious SNAFU of mass proportions. The people at the Delta counter in Mexico, after hearing the above story, take up a small collection of 25 pesos (about 2.50 US) ensure me that they have reached a person at the hotel who can go find Alison and the rest of the girls and arrange to meet me on the beach with fare for the water taxi. Then they give me directions to take two buses, one through Puerto Vallarta to Old Town Puerto Vallarta and from there to Boca Tomatlan. It would take about an hour and 15 minutes, but I had to hurry, because Boca Tomatlan is the last place where I'd be able to catch the last Water Taxi of the day to Yelapa, which is 40 miles away and accessible only by boat.

So far of all the days I have lived, those four days were far and away the best days, so far, of my life. Enjoy. I did.

Wow...and to think that I would have missed this if not for a little help from a friend...all the music and beauty and amazing people. This was another of the best days of my life.

Dockweiler 2/24/2007 Beach Burn, Santa Monica Pier Hoop Play, FMG March 4, 2007

So you'll notice that I don't have as many shots as usual. Guess why. :D Enjoy!

For and about the best job ever. EVER!

Some Days in June, from the 2nd through the Greensector 4th of July party in Seacliff. :D

'Twas a lovely day. About a dozen lovely hoopers joined Lainie and I for hours of hOOplOve. Magnificent. :D Enjoy!

Okay. So I found out Mike Hiratzka was spinning in LA at the Standard Hotel Downtown. Of course, I had to go. But of course, I needed to get nice and faded in the 4 hours before Mike went on the decks thanks to a 400 pound jerk who picked up my hOOps, put them around his body and THEN said, "we don't allow these up here, you're going to have to check them downstairs." I swear to god, if hadn't been able to reign in my temper, I would have seriously considered kicking him in his useless bits for touching my hoops without first asking and secondly being such a condescending jerk in the exchange. Do you remember that scene in Pulp Fiction when Jules picked up the kid's burger and started eating it and talking about what a good burger it was? Condescending like that. He never would have done the same thing to a man. AAArrrrggghhhh.

Enjoy. Especially the shot of Mr. Hiratzka himself in the pool. lol

decks thanks to a 400 pound jerk who picked up my hOOps, put them around his body and THEN said, "we don't allow these up here, you're going to have to check them downstairs." I swear to god, if hadn't been able to reign in my temper, I would have seriously considered kicking him in his useless bits for touching my hoops without first asking and secondly being such a condescending jerk in the exchange. Do you remember that scene in Pulp Fiction when Jules picked up the kid's burger and started eating it and talking about what a good burger it was? Condescending like that. He never would have done the same thing to a man. AAArrrrggghhhh.

Enjoy. Especially the shot of Mr. Hiratzka himself in the pool. lol

Carrboro, Raleigh and Chapel Hill, North Carolina are magical and filled with magical people.

Green Moon FMG in the Mojave 7/29/07; Moon Drop in San Diego 8/4/07; Green Moon in Culver City 8/11/07

I love summer ;)

Second installment of something amazing.

New location...LOTS of AWs and spectators. My body revolted at about 2 am and I fell asleep on Lord Shaper's sofa. If that tells you ANYthing about how much "fun" I had. Thank god for friends. Probably prevented an angry tirade. Good lookin' out, y'all.

Probably prevented an angry tirade. Good lookin' out, y'all.

A three day event, starting friday at one location, but the ATV nation bared their teeth and it was moved to Skip's. I waited patiently until Saturday at 7:30 pm. THEN I drove out and arrived at about 10: 15 pm. I sure will miss the desert when I move to NC.

Everyone is beautiful.

about 10: 15 pm. I sure will miss the desert when I move to NC.

Everyone is beautiful.

at Cre8tivity in Culver City

This album is dedicated to family by blood and family by choice ... and all the little chirrens. :D

Where I hang my hats. :D

Brought to us by our friends at Terrakroma. Trespassing was never so much fun. lol

Jewels and her band of Magicians created and delivered the first EVER national Hoop Convergence gathering in North Carolina. Wow...

The Wedding of the Century.

A photographic journal of the love of my life.

The progression of my belly from non-pregnant to the present ;)

Our cross-country trip (driving The Bucket) from Los Angeles to North Carolina. It took four days--should have taken five, but we pushed it at the end. :P It was eleven degrees when we arrived in the dead of night. OMG!

the dead of night. OMG!

The Unintentional Baby Shower aka Celebration of New Life on March 21st the second day of spring and the highly anticipated April Shower given April 4th by Richard's Mom. His Aunt Sharon and Grandma Dixie drove four hours from Richmond, VA to Greensboro, North Carolina for this!

Dixie drove four hours from Richmond, VA to Greensboro, North Carolina for this!

Richard and I popped in on the HoopCon Fire Ceremony nite. It was awesome to be back in the place where a new chapter of my life was in the making.

Richard, (Rylie) and I visit HoopCon during the Fire Ceremony.

misc.

Bonnie, Tim, Wynter and River visit for Memorial Day 2009.

The first photojourney of the eagerly anticipated arrival of our little angelbaby. Born Monday June 1st; 6 lbs. 5 oz., 18.75 inches long.