Pierdo la cabeza

Pierdo la cabeza.
Se me desliza el horizonte.
Las estrellas me cantan.
Me las quiero comer
como ciruelas amarillas.
Tiro mordidas al cielo,
pero como luciérnagas
se me escapan de la lengua--
Pero me dejan con una cosquilla
destrás de la cual
me encontrarás corriendo.

Soy el miedo...

Soy el miedo, el pavor,
y la celebración
de la vida--
¡Mírame!
Clava tu mirada
en la mía.
Siente el perfume
de la verdad
en el sabor
del leve gesto
de ironía
que titila en mi ceja
y tintinea
en mis labios.
Se escapan de mi boca
mil paradojas blancas,
palomas en vuelo
recién escapadas
de su palomar.
Bajo los rayos del sol
sus alas,
en busca de la unicidad,
brillan
como relumbrantes destellos
de luz que se fugan
de su origen
anónima e incógnita
de la unidad.
Es aquí
precisamente aquí,
en el aquí
que sugiere,
que requiere,
el allá,
donde dios se deja vislumbrar
en sus efectos:
árbol
río
viento
pez
mar
montaña
y cielo--
además del
calor o frío
rubor o blancor
sangre o calavera
o
la timidez desenfrenada,
el heroísmo sinestro,
la ignorancia brillante--
todos los nombres todos,
todos y lo que representan,
bajo el sol,
bajo la luna,
bajo el manto de estrellas,
todos como danzante
que se viste de alba
transparente y suelta
antes de esfumarse,
son motivos
de esta celebración
que es la fiesta
del Mundo.

Soy la tristeza

Soy la tristeza
que cargas los largos años
de la vida,
recordándote tus pasos
y tu recorrido
por ella. Mis raíces
impregnan la tierra
de tu alma,
buscan fondo,
imobilizan tu pies
dentro del río.
Mis aguas
humedecen tu mejilla
besada por una luna
de luto color-carmín.
La bruma
que sueltan mis manos
te envuelve
en una manta de seda
transparente--
en sus pliegos
te vestirás de reina
o los elevarás como estandarte.
Llevarás un collar de mis perlas
entre tus dedos
enlazado como rosario
Recordarás. Recordarás. Recordarás.
El timbre de mi voz coquetea
con las campanas del hado
que suenan
desde el fondo del mar.
Dentro de mi gemir
te amonesto,
¡recobra el tesoro
que enterré en el suelo,
pero no te quedes
en estas aguas!
¡te ahogarás!
Recobra los velos de luz
y llévalos volando
a la fiesta del sol.
Yo te recuerdo
el reino
que has perdido,
del cual te has extraviado.
Te brindo un sendero
de migajas centelleantes,
de estrellas fulgorosas,
que te marcan el camino
hacia tu trono verdadero.

Por las ramas del laurel

This is a spoken word piece I did sometime last year using Federico Garcia Lorca's poem, "Por las ramas del laurel":



And this piece uses his poem "Romance de la luna luna"--

Slideshow of Drawings

My drawings done in the Tamalpa training I entered in April of this year:

Red face of the moon

I am the crimson veil of grief.
I am the red face of the moon.
I pass between the sisters of the earth.
I cast my cardinal shadow
midst the waves, ‘tween the furrows
of the plowed fields--
I am the dark that deepens
the meaning of light
each moment we share
in this humble body. Ride
my currents deep
underground
before the tenebrious gods.
The gleaming mist of
my keen will cleanse you,
my embrace like a shroud
will keep you safe
till your return.

Now let me go. Give me over.
Open your eyes.
In your dream
body, your most
exquisite self,
remember
this crimson one
your life
redeemed.

copyright (c)2008 Lauren Wolfman
(5.31.08 From a dance at Sweat your Prayers at Bellas Artes, SMA.)

Mother and Daughter Poem

Breathe, breathe.
My breath spirals
like a double helix
reaching into the universe--
My mother. My mother,
the one who gave me form is
within. In and out
endless serpentine curve
as silent
as reptiles taking the sun
rhythmic flux
rise and fall
breathe
heart beat
a single lifetime
this, my womanly form,
interlocked at the elbow
with many lifetimes
and the formless
mystery just outside
the gait of imagination
within this mind,
my mind, my form, my being
created by the mother who created
my mother who is
the universe
as am I.

Flower-petaled Flames

We spoke and shared secrets about the inner workings of things in the universe. This made us laugh and ponder and wonder how it might all work from the smallest level and we thought about the miraculous activity that occurred at the very, very, very tiniest level. And we fed these secrets and surmisings with our own breath, blowing, sometimes gently, sometimes forcefully, until they grew and grew into soft flower-petaled flames that rose and rose until they filled the sky with their breathtaking beauty as luscious and more moving than the deepest deep— And then, they all fell back to earth, to our sadness and tears, which though painfully, we most certainly shed happily-- "happily", because of all we had shared. And we said good-bye, for now, as each went her merry way, dancing.

-- Lauren 6/6/08
(Story from a trio improv with Julia and Ue.)

Mother and Daughter

--Lauren 5-26-08
(Mother & Daughter, drawn in Casa Guadalupe, San Miguel de Allende.)

Crow and Iguana Dialogue

Iguana: I am an iguana. I move slowly near to dear
earth. I look for her warmth midst the sun warmed rocks. Moving
forward with slow deep intention, I stretch and push my legs...
With a deliberate pace I observe, silently watching,
flicking my tongue to catch a hint on the air of what is to come.
Crow, my sister, you and I have many things in common.

Crow: I too love the silence. Yet, as much as I
love the silence, I adore punctuating it with my raucous voice as
old and cracked as the earth's boulders. Just as you I too
love to cross the face of the earth, but from a higher vantage point,
My friend. I stretch my wings out on the wind. I soar, I am lifted
higher and higher. Joyously I shatter the silence of the day with
my “caaawwww.” For you the air hints at what is to come, for me it
howls and sings news of far away places. But, your eyes and mine, my
brother, that we have in common: the round arc, the manner of our
looking.

Iguana: Yes, yes, it is in the manner of our looking that
we penetrate the veils of the here. Slowly, deliberately, without
interfering, we look. Coming to a great stillness we see by allowing
the light to come to us, and reveal her secrets.

copyright (c) 2008 Lauren Wolfman

Images from San Miguel

While I was in San Miguel de Allende, May 23-28, I took a lot of photographs. My themes were doors, faces, intersections/borders and, secondarily, windows and lamps. The doors are an old theme and one that is always holds a metaphoric fascination. They are at once portals, thresholds, barriers, openings... As far as faces, my awareness was heightened by the "head" work we had been preparing for this month in my Tamalpa Training where each month we have been taking a part of the body to explore in its physical, emotional and imaginal metaphoric resonances. Intersections/borders is another rich topic as it suggests so many things, borders between people, countries, points of contact and delineations of difference or boundaries. Attached are some of the images.