Thursday, August 30, 2012



Colors of auras,
Are they something we can see?
Even if we do not know it,
Is it what gives us a gut feeling,
a hunch?
Can we learn to tune in so our concious mind
understands & sees the auras?
What are my favorite colors?
I looked at the colored pencils.
Blues, Greens, Reds, Dark Purple,
and I pushed to use them all at least a little.
Not lined up like a rainbow,
the spectrum scattered into the whole canvas,
including all colors
all auras.


Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Predictions & Readings

There can be no doubt if you want to hear about the ultimate psychic channeler,
there can be no more prolific than Edgar Cayce.

Mom talked about him a lot. He was fascinating and there is an entire complex for his works in Virginia Beach as well his readings that are on line.
My renewed interest in metaphysics as I recollect my Shaman Mom and her eyes when she referred to Edgar.
He in turn suffered several serious head traumas. One in his youth. Did some short circuit aid his being in touch with Auras and alternate realities.

Edgar Cayce, dedicated medium for predictions & life & health readings
and much much more...

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Healing Art

Healing Art

Searching for the
colors of the images
I was missing.

Searching for the images
from long ago,
just remembered.

To bathe them in fresh paint and color,
a new look,
a new day
a new understanding.

I am fussy about the images I made
on paper,
pencils, water, ink.
They are not quite right.

let it sit,
Oh, not so bad,
it came from inside of me.

I fuss some more
quit while I am ahead.

notes: Mom did this painting thing at my age and I sat and watched her heal
and had no idea where the scar was...


Friday, August 24, 2012

Summer reruns

A rerun of one of my favorites.

Summer memories are warm and sweet. I wanted to share a poem even while fearing once I let it out I will be unable to ever outdo it in feeling and depth of myself immersed therein.

Coyote Night by Mary Gerdt * 2008 all rights reserved

When we walk down a road in the dark,
And the Coyotes are crying their mournful cry,
The smells of summer drift and hang in the valley
And little night birds chirp goodnight.
The stars peek out from the clouds of August mist
The moon hangs over the hills by home.
My memories fade to days gone by
When we looked at the nights from inside.
Now we walk on the path outside
Not afraid anymore.
While the coyotes cry.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

About a year ago...

About a year ago...
We drove down to
Suicide Six @
Woodstock, Vermont
on a perfect summer day
We saw a great concert with Levon Helm, and much much more
including Bow Thayer & Perfect Trainwreck & 2 guys from NY
We took a lot of photos because I guess we could.
Here is one of the better ones.
The strange thing was, the next day tropical storm Irene,
nee Hurricane Irene hit.
The flooding started and
wreaked terrible havoc still
impacting life for some today.
The concert was followed by such sadness.
Our hearts go out to all who suffered
with the great floods of 2011

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Travelogue for the Universe: Brandi Carlile - That Wasn't Me

Travelogue for the Universe: Brandi Carlile - That Wasn't Me: Great video link...                                     

for some unknown reason this got posted out of sequence.
I had to re-post today
it was
such a good movie video on so many levels.
great music, action, acting, message
is the character Kris K playing "just" elderly or some developmental delay as well?
Either way, his plans were made by the system.
Isn't that something you were supposed to change?

Monday, August 20, 2012


MS's Bridge

My old roommate, named MS from 30 years ago stopped by and
we reminded her of the old bridge she told us about,
this bridge.
Fred and I laughed about that bridge
periodically and the
story MS told.
She went for a drive
so many years ago, she was lost and had some sort of
out of body experience related to this bridge.
Well even funnier, MS remembered none of it,
we had gone all those years with a story forgotten
by the original storyteller.
That is sometimes how stories go.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Absent Friends


Danny Shulman Self Portrait
Technorati Tags:

One Trauma leads to memory of other losses,

in boxes with artwork from short lived friendships.

Danny Shulman and I were friends for a time

we lost him in LA from Lymphoma in spite of his best efforts

He would have been famous, and what fanciful films he might have made had he had the chance to even grow up.

More artwork by Danny c. 1977

Danny Shulman #1


Dannny Shulman #3


What a guy.

While I am paying tribute to absent friends, I neglected a proper tribute to a friend, Joe, who, in my first grade class photo and sat two over on my right.

to absent friends…

By My Side

Ever since I can remember
and before
She was by my side.

She had my back,
Powerful little human.

She called me the sensible one,
and I never understood
What She meant.

As I remember,
I remember sitting
by Her side
as she drove us to
a concert
or an event.

She got great tickets
from her boss and
I was easy to ask,
I was right there,
By Her side.

We saw Segovia, The Bolshoi,
The Symphony,
and the historians at
Bishop Hill.

So as I write about
Glimpses I recall,
and feelings that come to me strongest,
some of the best memories were of riding in the car
Talking about nothing special,
Right by her side.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

So Long Ago

So Long Ago
Vera Newland, my teacher
and later my Junior High School guidance counselor.
I loved her and her smiles, her teaching,
her spankings.
First Grade
My first major immersion in structure, discipline & learning.
My picture is in the 3rd row, 5th from the left

Wednesday, August 15, 2012



Strands of Images
From the Past,
Future &
In my Mind.

Therein are images
where lies
all Pain & Joy,
Real to me  &
No where else.

Therein are images
As I see them.

Therein are images,
Some are Underneath
the surface
where you thought
You could hide them.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The Osprey

Osprey photo
 found in public domain
We heard her for about a minute before we actually saw her.
Short bursts high pitched, like ” Ee-eee”.
I thought it was the ring necked pheasant
the sound closer,
Then we saw her,
Slowly gliding over our heads, like this photo I found,
Her feathery fingers grabbing the wind bumps we cannot see.
She hovered over us
And we looked at each other.
“Hi Betsy,” was all we could say.
I had just told Fred the other day that Mom would be an osprey, not an eagle,
She wrote the letter
Protesting DDT,
All those years ago.
The osprey returned
Had a hand in that.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Friday, August 10, 2012



How to find the words I need to say
what I need to make


a photo,
a thousand words.

We went over to New York to shop for bargain & best food,
nomads for good sweet corn.
We stopped @ Drinkwine Produce stand on Rt 9N
 Fred got a dozen ears
and some beautiful big black plums.
I think Mom would have said that they should be
Italian Prune Plums
for perfect
Plum Dumplings

After we stopped, we got a call about Mom &
her deepening decline in status,
her inability to connect w/me,
The ton of bricks I can still feel
makes it hard to breathe,
 I knew now,
that each of us
felt it.

So I was happy when Fred bought the plums.
I made a half way attempt at making dumplings
It did not matter, it was the thought that mattered
and there were 7 plums.

Thursday, August 9, 2012


I heard the doors
shut again.

It was a dream
extending prior dreams
so familiar
yet I never saw it
with my eyes closed.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

For Mom, Genesis "Your Own Special Way / Afterglow" (TV 1977)

I am building my shrine to Mom,
both figuratively at home, on a table,
& here, on my travelogue of painful and hopeful messages
as I pause &
feel Her special way

Travelogue for the Universe: Mom's paintings Redux

Travelogue for the Universe: Mom's paintings: Mom's Art Mom painted these about the time I was in 10 to 12 or so. I love the cat. The Fish The Zinnias. I have a few more...

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Travelogue for the Universe: Aryanna Arrived on Mars 8.5.12 8.6.12 EST Ea...

They made it!

Travelogue for the Universe: Aryanna Arrival on Mars 8.5.12 8.6.12 EST Ea...: Curiosity: The Mars mission is due to land Today I became a part of this when I signed up to put my digital image in the spacecraf...

>>when i told dad about my name going to mars, he started scratching the phone, you're breaking i would try again and he would say you're breaking up on me and he signed off.
>>when i told mom (betz) my name was going to mars, she said in that sweet perfect song voice,
that's nice, mary, in a true and genuine style (you never were quite sure but just hearing the encouragement, in that perfect pitch of hers, made you believe you could...
and that she agreed it was worth it)

well mom, i wanted to, planned to and never got to tell you my name got to mars,
on earth i am mary, on mars i am called aryanna
on earth a MonSter pulls my legs, on Mars, there is no MS

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Aryanna Arrival on Mars 8.5.12 8.6.12 EST Earth time

Curiosity: The Mars mission is due to land Today

I became a part of this when I signed up to put my digital image in the spacecraft. 
My Martian name is Aryanna.
Hope for successful landing and discovery of new,
exciting and unexpected findings.
It would be no fun if it was just a big dry cold red dirt ball
if it was really inhabited by aliens, mean ones.
The camera would film the club coming down...then blank screen.

In my case, my curiosity spurred me to fill out the form
for citizenship on Mars.
Bon Voyage on Martian soil, Curiosity.

8.5.12 8/6/12 Aryanna
Now on Mars

Friday, August 3, 2012

THE BAND / SHAPE I'M IN (Live At The New Orleans Jazz Festival)

One more for Friday Night

The Band - Atlantic City - 1994

Travelogue for the Universe: Betz Plus photos...

I added some photos to explain what I saw and felt.
Harder, wait, it is impossible to photograph
how I felt, feel, will feel.

Travelogue for the Universe: Betz: Betz Some thoughts I was marvelling at the proteins strands in my brain processing all the memories, feelings, old smells, emotions, evo...

Captain Blakely Quebec

Captain Blakely Quebec


A few years ago

Last week

He took ill last night. Was 12 years old. Survived Thyroid disease with I-131.
He died this afternoon of heart failure.
He is a Best Cat. More special than most.
Dominant, demanding, affectionate, possessive.
He use to "talk" to Mom on my lap through the phone lines. He would purr loudly
when he heard her voice and I would ask her but she said she could not hear him.
Then he would "Meow" and she heard that.
The cats were shaken up at our grief about Mom,
compounded today,
the whole house grieves.


Wednesday, August 1, 2012


Some thoughts
I was marvelling at the proteins strands in my brain processing all the memories, feelings, old smells,
emotions, evoked by looking at old photos, letters, things Mom made: baskets, paintings, her sewing notions. Donna reminded me we are about the age Mom was when I moved out here.
That started a whole new string of memories, detoured by tears and smiles, and bewilderment, and
kind communications from friends and family.
So yesterday I jotted words down as they came, not wanting to forget stories, feelings, and how the day went when Mom left the material plane, I felt her presence, as if she could be with me in the cool clean mountain air she loved when she visited. A few times She saw this house, slept downstairs. We drove up onto the hill.
When I moved out here it was a month after Katie died. I was restless to live here, in mysterious wonderful never seen Vermont. I made plans and never saw Mom's face until the day my brother Sam and I left. She was sad. I did not know why and in my plans thought maybe we were doing her a favor.
"Don't worry I'll be back in a year once I get this out of my system." Like technicolor, that moment, I added, "We'll be closer." She smiled maybe not sure why herself. I never moved back home.
We all adjusted. I think we were closer. We talked on Sundays and as time passed, there was less to talk about. Sometimes I would ask her about old family or spiritual ideas, philosophy. I repeatedly failed to write down the history and remember only snippets.  She wrote a brief history which I re-read recently.

In about 1880 her parents were born. Her true life spanned 3 Centuries by my rules. My rules: Women are born with the eggs that could develop into a fetus. So your maternal grandmother gives birth to your mother with all the eggs your Mom will have. if I perseverate too much, just skip this part.

7th Heaven

Tomas led her by the hand once she was assured her husband and each of her 7 children was safe and settled. It was not about her husband and her 7 being happy about it. It was about being Settled.

I felt like the honey was gone from the honey comb, or was the comb gone? I could visualize the empty space, and it would never be the same again.


That afternoon, off to the East, over the Green Mountains, a mighty rumble of thunder came from a lone thunderhead. Uncommon to see that here, in Vermont. Cool, blue skies overhead. Really the perfect summer day. Except for Mom passing over, that is, passing on, dying, gone. I went to see the big billowy cloud. And a little rainbow struggle to be seen, a rainbow pillar, really, 7 colors, for the 7 chakras, 7 archangels, Seven again.

In the west another cloud rose up....

Eagle Mother

Chicken mother

Mom said there are chicken mothers and eagle mothers. Chicken mothers hold their babies close under their wings. Eagle mothers toss the babies out of the nest to fly on their own.
She told me many times," I am an eagle mother." And she would do this proud posture thing.
I was proud too, I love Eagles, independence. Once I told a friend/co-worker the story.
She replied, "I had a lizard mother, she layed eggs and walked away."
And I saw again, how Mom's stories were leading me to a greater understanding.


7th month. July. Born in July, Had 7 kids, Died in July, I Saw Sevens all day,
looked down at my shirt. Cardinals #7 Halladay. I bought it out there was it ? last visit?
Recently called Dad during the game (faux pas, no-no). Halladay got a home run while we were talking which I thought rare for the timing. I told Dad I was wearing his shirt and it bewildered him a bit...7 is my lucky number which is why I picked Halladay. Bro Paul said it was a good choice in shirts.

Played stupid app, it said to spin the wheel, thought of Mom the day I watched her play Slot machines with a fierce intention. Got a free app which was Slots with 7’s, all sevens, no money changing hands. Mom would have loved it. The sign I was looking for, they were all around me.

Jasper Sean
My service cat, was all over me all day. I kept thinking he had met her. I was trying to do the calendar math, I gave up.

Giant Coreopsis, Phlox, Jewelweed, Catnip, Queen Anne's Lace.

I remembered Mom saying Fanny could look at the ground and see a four leaf clover

Mom loved honey, and bees, and I noticed how many more bees are here and healthy thanks to neighbors, and nature's way.

Trees, a whip of a tree grew back on a stub of a red delicious tree that had broken off. Zone 5 we never should have tried, still we can hope. I gaze at the giant locust trees with a feathery living canopy and remember the Vietnamese painting David sent home that hung in my bedroom on 128 East High. The painting captured the locusts green clouds of leaves, switching up and down in the breeze. I see a spruce Fred’s Dad planted that he brought home in his pocket from the Northeast kingdom, my memory of his telling me about this tree and that tree, then pointing out Mad River. I hoped he did that so on days like that day I could look and say, at least we had that moment, and like a secret sign, my energy goes in a focused direction. Mom loved trees, and everything about trees. One year Paul dug the big hole and planted the blue spruce live Xmas tree we had. It was a great tree.

Locusts Canopy

Birds, swallows
She loved them, and we talked about birds all my life and as Donna said her laugh was like a bird call that we tried and could not replicate. Her laugh always incited a laugh in anyone nearby.



The memory of nature, she loved it here, in cool Vermont summer, like I love it here.
Cool perfect July breeze. Lush, green, clean clear air. I had her visit in the summer so she could sleep with the window open, no A/C. The next time she visited she wanted to see the changing colors. Fred drove us to all the great foliage drives. Up through the Islands, down the spine of the Green Mountains, all around, on the ferry on Lake Champlain.

The Sun
More powerful lately.
She and I are not sun tolerant.

Sky that afternoon,

Blue clear overheard,

Two thunderclouds one over the spine of the Green Mtns

One over the lake

That one like a mittened hand, later more like a
little maid, like the quilt her mother started and I finished.

ThunderCloud over Lake Champlain

Mary mary quite contrary

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells and

Pretty little maids all in a row

The rest a blur, then the day was done.
I miss Mom a great deal, and yet I have never felt her so strongly.
She is free.

Last night, a Large bright Moon


My confirmation

Mom’s commitment




Rosicrucian, Kundalini, Shaman, Chakra, Atrology

Cancer the sign, Moon, Water

Akashic Records


The signs of the Zodiac are Karmic Patterns;
the Planets are the Looms;
the Will is the Weaver
(Edgar Cayce Reading #3654-L-1).

leaving stories for later...


The corduroy, lazy woman’s thread




Betz & Dick Alaska

For Betz

For Betz, my Mom