Calgary Recovery

…I needed that. The vacay and the recovery time.

I’ll say one thing, Nicole and I didn’t let too many blades of grass grow under our feet. We had meals at Blink (where Nicole works), Petite, crepes at The Calgary Farmer’s Market, tapas at Jaroblue, lunch at Sky 360 in The Calgary Tower, oysters and Champagne at Raw Bar, drinks at Earl’s (not our first choice, but it was cold out), Local 510 (We were freezing. There was a line. I told a filthy joke to the doormen- they let us right in), and went dancing at The Mercury Lounge with Nicole’s friends Jonathan, Razor, Gas, Brent, Luke and TJ (we lost Brent and Luke somewhere).

All in the space of three days. Oh, and there was a house party in there somewhere- and shopping.

So much fun- so this is a mini recommendation- all of these places worked for us, check them out if you’re ever there….

At Raw Bar, Calgary, self-portrait

Who’s Your Princess?

Feb19 by D Gregory Smith

All right, I caved.

I’m writing from the Calgary kitchen of Nicole Pomeroy, Princess Extraordinaire and Friend of my Heart.
She’s still sleeping.

I had to write, because we were up till well after 3 catching up and I feel so excellent this morning (okay, I have a headache, but how could I NOT have a couple of Tangueray and Tonics- I’m on vacation). I feel excellent, because I spent last night talking to someone who gets me- and vice-versa- in a way nobody else does. We laughed and cried and talked and smiled and just basked in each other’s presence. No way I’m letting another year and a half pass before we see each other again.

I’m writing, because Nicole is important on a number of levels, but I think the most significant for me is this: despite all the shit I’ve been through and put people through, she never wavered. She always believed in me- when other friends didn’t, even when I couldn’t or wouldn’t believe in my self. She showed me that it was not only possible to do so- even in the midst of excruciating emotional and physical pain , it was vitally important. She was the rock I tied my lifeline to- and last night I was reminded why.

Because I would do exactly the same thing for her.
And we both know that.

Invading Canadia

Feb17 by D Gregory Smith

Tomorrow, I’m off to Calgary to paint it red with the lovely Nicole. I’m REALLY going to try and not obsess about home, clients, writing or the internets, so maybe no posts until Tuesday. (I always end up caving for some reason) But I’ll put up some pics (maybe…).

Leaving you with a thoughtfortheday:

“There is the Music of Heaven in all things
and we have forgotten how to hear it
until we sing.”
~Hildegard of Bingen

Go, sing….

REACH OUT!

Feb15 by D Gregory Smith

THE big fundraiser of the year for AIDS Outreach is a Mardi Gras Party Tuesday, February 16th with jazz, desserts and silent auction at The Nova Cafe, 312 E Main St, Bozeman. Delicious desserts donated by pastry artisans throughout Bozeman will be well worth the suggested $3.00 admission donation. The swag includes original art (paintings, pottery, jewelry), merchandise donated by area businesses including Erotique, The Daily, 2 VIP Tickets to The Rail Jam, Spa Treatments, and many other items too numerous to mention….

I want to strongly encourage all my friends to come down, or, if you can’t attend, donate here.

We’re just starting out, and we could really use any help we can get in providing services for persons with HIV, community education, HIV testing and an HIV+ support group (which I facilitate).

Thanks in advance,

Who IS Demetrius Anderson? And Why Should I Give A Shit?

Feb14 by D Gregory Smith

_____________

Ask yourself that question, then go to my article here….

I Dreamed A Dead Dream

Feb12 by D Gregory Smith

I dreamed a dead dream.
They’re all dead, aren’t they?

Isn’t a dream a not-live thing
that seeks our attention,
that begs for our breath?
It needs these to spring,
as Athena did,
from the head of Zeus
(she arrived dressed for battle),
breathing, awake
and ready.
Or, even to come as Aphrodite,
floating gently on the foam of the sea.

My dead dream, devoid of color-
like the world in The Flood
became the gray and angry, hysterical sky.
Does it remember life
like a shade  of the Underworld,
restless,  unsure of itself ?
Or does it see the world,
perfect, and simply waits
with the pain,
waiting for whatever it needs
to make its own fascinating entrance?

Is my dead dream closer
every time it is dreamed-
closer, closer
no matter who dreams it?
Less lifeless, somehow
in being seen by me,
by you,
especially by you.
Do you remember that your
dream is dead-
that it needs you to live?

Or do you forget,
rubbing your sleepy eyes?

~D Gregory Smith

Much more to come

Feb9 by D Gregory Smith

…on that Hate Crime posting I had on Bilerico last week. Been talking to the attorneys, and it’s pretty reprehensible.

I’m going through some of the court documents and have calls in to the Blue Island PD and the Blue Island Mayor’s office, as well as the defense attorneys. So far, none returned.

I’ll write the story with or without ’em.

What is it you plan to do…?

Feb8 by D Gregory Smith

This is one of the most poignant and beautiful poems I know.

The Summer Day

Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

from New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA

Cardinal vs. The Gays

Feb7 by D Gregory Smith

My Bilerico article on Cardinal George and New Ways Ministries is here.

If you haven’t already, please register at Bilerico and join the conversation!

Abandonment

Feb6 by D Gregory Smith

I watched a film biography of Thomas Merton last night while I was folding laundry. I like to watch slow, thoughtful things while I do menial tasks, and I will sometimes save up all my laundry to fold when there’s a short movie or something on TV I want to catch- something that I can listen to and fold at the same time.

I’ve always been attracted to Merton because of his earthy, practical and deep sense of life. His spirituality transcended his Trappist Monastic situation and embraced all forms of life and prayer: Hindu, Buddhist, Islam/Sufi, Native American to mention a few. Plus, he was a poet, a really excellent poet- and much of my inspiration poetically comes from him, Auden and William Stafford.

His Prayer of Abandonment has always been a favorite of mine, and after hearing a monk read it again last night, I was moved to post it here because it works on so many levels. It still speaks to me, maybe it will speak to you.

Wishing you a peace-filled weekend,
Greg

Thomas Merton’s Prayer of Abandonment

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following you
does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you
does, in fact, please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this
you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore I will trust you always
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear,
for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

~Thomas Merton, Thoughts In Solitude