For years, I have had the same recurring dream. It starts out with me crawling through a tunnel of rock. It is long, convoluted and tight to the point of claustrophobia in places, but I am determined to keep going.  I don’t know what waits for me at the end, I only know I can’t go back – going forward is the only option now.

I wake from this dream feeling unsettled, as if I need to finish something. I never like the dream, but in an odd way, I often look forward to it because maybe the next time I’ll make it to the end of the tunnel, maybe I’ll find out what waits for me at the end.

I haven’t had the dream in a long time, until just recently, but I think I know why. I have ventured into the unknown. I have entered the world of publishing. For years, getting published has been my Holy Grail. That one thing I looked for above all else and now finally hold, at least virtually, in my hand. The experience has been almost surreal.

After years of doing nothing but writing and re-writing, offering my precious words up for sacrifice on workshops and to beta readers, and then more time spent writing query letters (a special hell all in itself); I almost became immune to rejection letters. It got to the point where I would scan to the first few words and then hit delete. We regret, I’m sorry, and the ever popular, I’m just not that enthusiastic about it, but maybe someone else will be, clogged my inbox on almost a daily basis. I once got a one word reply to a query- NO- short and to the point.

So, when I got the acceptance from my publisher, Lyrical Press, it almost didn’t register. It was that single E-mail that started me on my journey and much like my journey through the tunnel, I had no idea what waited for me on the other side, I  only knew that things were put into motion and I had to find out what waited for me at the end.

The first thing I encountered was familiar—waiting. After months, sometimes years of waiting for replies from would-be agents, waiting was something I was used to.  But this wait was not long. I was introduced to my editor. This is probably one of the most important relationships you will ever foster. Much like a marriage, it is vital that the author and editor are simpatico. Unlike any critter, or beta reader, your editor will look at your work under a microscope. Every word, every phrase, every mark better be perfect. Things you never thought of will be brought to your attention. Mistakes you thought you corrected will make you hit your forehead and say Doh!

If you are really lucky, like I was, you will get an editor that not only knows her job, but tempers her corrections with praise and compliments. One that will let your own voice shine through. One that will not let you get lost in the whole process. (Thanks, Pamela!)

Treat your editor, oh, I don’t know, like a god maybe? Respect them and what they can do for you. They can make the great story you have already written, fantastic! My published book is far better than the one I submitted to Lyrical.

It has been quite the ride and it isn’t through yet. I am still crawling through the tunnel, trying to find out what waits for me on the other side. I still wake feeling unsettled, but I have managed to gain more ground than I ever did before. There might even be a small light shining at the end of it. I’ll let you know when I get there.

~ Ann Simko

So I don't own any parfait glasses. So sue me.

Parfait. Parfait. That’s francais for Perfect.

Tonight I had a perfect parfait.  I used some amazing blueberries from Dan’s Farm Market on Oldfield Road. Sadly, ’tis not the season, so they were berries I had frozen earlier this year, not fresh.  But I’ll take that any day over the flavorless and pricy imported versions available in the produce section of the grocery store.  Besides, frozen fruit kinda goes with the whole Parfait theme anyhow.  I tossed in a few slices of banana and some giant red globe grapes.  I topped it with just enough french vanilla almond granola for texture.  And amidst all of this I layered the WORLD’S MOST AMAZINGLY DELICIOUS YOGOURT: Méditerranée Lemon from liberté.  If you have not been introduced to this unbelievably divine creamy fabulousness, you really must run, not walk, immediately to the nearest grocery store and purchase this, the Holy Grail of Dairy Products (I didn’t come up with that on my own – as much as I wish I had.  Go here and you will see I am not alone in my worship for this product).  When P had his first bite tonight he said, in a hushed and reverential tone, “Mmmmmm … I have never had yogurt like this before.”  Seriously.  When you eat this stuff, angels come out singing and stuff.

The Fixin's

I apologise.  Besides waxing poetic about the brilliance of fantastic yogurt from Quebec, there’s not really a whole lot exciting that I can write about a parfait.  It’s a dessert.  It’s a breakfast.  It involves sweet dairy products and fruit.  There’s lots of different versions of it.  About as many different versions as there are different kinds of fruit and sweet dairy products. If you google “parfait”, you will come across 5,660,000 hits.  Search “parfait recipes” and you at least narrow your search to 770,000.  It would take a long time to try them all out to find the parfait Parfait.

After consuming my own delicious parfait dessert tonight, I did some more research and discovered that there are also savoury parfaits – kind of like paté.  I found this recipe for a chicken liver parfait with apple and saffron from Gordon Ramsay that sounds like it might actually be pretty darn tasty … so far as chicken livers go.  So I imagine there’s a lot more to parfait than just some berries and yogourt (or ice cream or custard or creme fraiche).  But, in the end, it’s really just another version of a Sundae.

Speaking of which, remember how I said the Brandied Fruit was too nasty and I wasn’t even going to try it? Well, when I went to throw it out, I felt that I would be delinquent in my duty and besides, all that fruit and brandy had been pretty expensive so I figured I should at least taste it.  I mean, it looked atrocious (see picture – I know – I said I wouldn’t, but I had to suffer and therefore I felt the need to share), but it smelled okay … kinda.  In any event, as I had thought, epic failure.  I actually gagged.  Clearly I have something to learn about that stuff.  Considering myself suitably humbled by the experience, xoxo - B.

Yuck. Brown nastiness.

This is a great gift idea for anyone with stick straight lashes like myself.  This is the holy-grail of eyelash curlers.  It’s not heated, it’s not plated in gold and it doesn’t jump onto your face and curl your lashes by itself but what it does is this: It Works!  This gives you perfectly curled lashes without hassel and stress which is the one thing we don’t want in the mornings.

For people like myself who wear glasses, stick straight lashes coated with mascara can be an all day annoyance because they constantly sratch at the lens of your glasses and you can feel them brushing against your glasses all day.  Not cute.  This however creates a perfect curl and somehow helps the curl last most of the day.

The Shu Uemura Eyelash Curler retails for $20 and you can find it at Sephora.com and Sephora stores or anywhere Shu Uemura is sold.

True knighthood is the Holy Grail of manhood, a revelation attainable only by the pure.  The proud are ever barred from taking a draught from it.

Our very captivation with the Holy Grail consists in the fact that it has not been found and only few have even seen it.  And, of course, the reason that the mysterious cup remains ever out of reach for the ordinary man and is because its quest is fraught with danger:  fearful obstacles, inscrutable riddles, and deadly foes.

To those who possess true manliness, such obstacles are the reason why The Quest is so appealing.  By definition manliness is the penchant to overcome obstacles. The more hopeless the attainment, the bigger and better is the man who laughs in the face perils to be found there.  Those who are lesser men still aspire to the Grail, but fear leads them to experience the danger only vicariously by following along at a safe distance, through spectator sports, litrerature and movies.

And yet there is a temptation in that boldness to which those gallant men of the Round Table too easily succumb.  The bigger and better that a man thinks he is, the more likely he is to fail utterly in attaining the goal.  Gawain, for example, showed himself the fool for this very reason.  And Lancelot had to be taken down a few notches (many actually) before he was even granted a partial fulfillment of his desire.  Galahad attained the grail, not so much by his prowess, but more so, by his humility and purity.

There is a strange and wonderful coincidence of opposites in the embodiment of true chivalry:  courage, strength, boldness and skill, on the one hand; reverence, humility, meekness, and deference on the other.

In a sermon written during his Anglican Period, entitled, “The Weapons of the Saints,” Venerable John Henry Cardinal Newman couched the spiritual life in terms of a war in which the stratagem for victory demands an inversion of worldly values:

But in that kingdom which Christ has set up, all is contrariwise. “The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds.” What was before in honour, has been dishonoured; what before was in dishonour, has come to honour; what before was successful, fails; what before failed, succeeds.

It is this inversion that constitutes the real difficulty to the attainment of the Holy Grail of true knighthood.  It is the riddle of riddles.  The Black Knight, enemy of our souls, guards the bridge that leads to the hermit who is ensconced away from the manners of worldly men.  It is from him that we are to unlearn our pride and find the real weapons by which we are to succeed in our quest.

Cardinal Newman’s sermon is a commentary on Our Lord’s words: Many that are first shall be last, and the last shall be first (Mt 19:30).  And he supports his thesis from many other passages of the New Testament concerning, for example, strength made perfect in weakness (2 Cor 12:9), the of putting down the proud and the exalting of the humble (Lk 1:52), the blessedness of those who suffer and the woes of those who are satisfied (Mt 5:2-10; Lk 6:24-26), and God’s choice of the weak and despised to do his work (1 Cor 1:27).  It should be abundantly clear to anyone with a modicum of familiarity with scripture that God triumphs in and through those who have rejected worldly ambition and self-assuredness.

The invisible powers of the heavens, truth, meekness, and righteousness, are ever coming in upon the earth, ever pouring in, gathering, thronging, warring, triumphing, under the guidance of Him who “is alive and was dead, and is alive for evermore.”

Truth, meekness and righteousness, according to Venerable Newman, are the real weapons of the saints, the means by which they are victorious over Satan, sin and death.  The Holy Grail of Christian Knighthood is so hidden that in order to find it the knight must lose himself in the process.

This is that intangible, greater thing, after which young men aspire.  It is the stuff of true nobility.  It is strength without arrogance, command without self-interest.

Venerable Newman notes that “we like to hear marvellous tales, which throw us out of things as they are, and introduce us to things that are not.”  The paradox of the cross and of the victorious King who triumphs through His own death is the cosmic myth, the retelling of which is the incantation that opens the sealed doors of our hearts. He that openeth and no man shutteth, shutteth and no man openeth, is the only one with the key (Ap 3:7).

The beloved disciple saw Him mounted on a white horse, and going forth “conquering and to conquer.” “And the armies which were in heaven followed Him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean. And out of His mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it He should smite the nations, and He shall rule them with a rod of iron.” [Rev. xix. 14, 15.]

The Quest of the Holy Grail is a lesser myth, as are all other stories when compared to the gospel myth in which the most fantastic tale is merged with history, and where what Tolkien called eucatastrophe, a literary climax beyond our wildest hopes, is made the substance of all our hopes and the ground upon which we walk in the daylight of this world.

Indeed, the return of the king in Tolkien’s mythology is an ascendency by way of descent.  Aragorn and the Dúnedain are content to be despised if that will better equip them to protect and defend the peoples of Middle Earth.  Aragorn himself must choose the path leading downward, literally underground, through the Paths of the Dead under the White Mountains, like Christ in His harrowing of hell, if he is to triumph on behalf of those entrusted to his care.

After Gandalf  had “passed through fire and deep water,” and had completed his own christic transformation, he delivered a message to Aragorn from the Lady of Light, Galadriel:

Where now are the Dúnedain, Elessar, Elessar?
Why do thy kinsfolk wander afar?
Near is the hour when the Lost should come forth,
And the Grey Company ride from the North.
But dark is the path appointed for thee:
The Dead watch the road that leads to the Sea (Book III, Chapter V).

Aragorn chose the path of truth, meekness and righteousness.  He was prepared to face his fear, and he was not afraid to confront his own ego with the double-edged sword of God’s truth.  He chose to go down in order to go up, to be last in order to be first.  Yet the myth of Aragorn cannot be a vicarious substitute for our own humiliation.  We must really experience it.  Newman has it right:

We so love the idea of the invisible, that we even build fabrics in the air for ourselves, if heavenly truth be not vouchsafed us. We love to fancy ourselves involved in circumstances of danger or trial, and acquitting ourselves well under them. Or we imagine some perfection, such as earth has not, which we follow, and render it our homage and our heart. Such is the state more or less of young persons before the world alters them, before the world comes upon them, as it often does very soon, with its polluting, withering, debasing, deadening influence, before it breathes on them, and blights and parches, and strips off their green foliage, and leaves them, as dry and wintry trees without sap or sweetness.

We must not loose our idealism as we grow older, but “heavenly truth” should purify our tendency to experience knighthood vicariously through its trappings and shards.  Ours is to be the knighthood of the real Dúnedain, a hidden knighthood in search of the hidden, but very real Holy Grail.

As a Franciscan, I have had many opportunities to reflect upon the militant example of Saints Francis and Maximilian, and of the great tertiary St. Louis of France.  The Holy Patriarch of the Seraphic Order, Our Holy Father St. Francis, was well aware of the Arthurian legends and aspired to knighthood and the Holy Grail himself.  Later, after he too had chosen the path downward, he called the simple brothers who lived in seclusion and despised status and pomp, his “Knights of the Round Table.”

In this last week of ordinary time, during the “octave” of the Feast of Christ the King, we look for His return at the end of the world, when he will preside over the cosmic resolution to the perennial struggle of St. Michael and the dragon.  Then He will raise his wounded hands over the universe and all of us will be witnesses of the full revelation of His truth, a more powerful illumination than possession of the Grail itself.  Then we will all know what true chivalry is and whether we are worthy to drink from the cup filled by the hands of Him who carried the sword of truth and slayed the dragon by His humble acceptance of our condition and by His willing suffering and death.

The weapons of the true knight are those of the saints: truth, meekness and righteousness.  They are best fitted to help us along the way of our Quest, a path that leads up a narrow crag in a mountain.  But this path to the heights strangely leads us downward by many uneven steps, until we arrive in the sanctuary of the Holy Grail and find rest in the yoke of Christ on the Holy Mountain of His Passion, Death and Resurrection.

Should freedom of speech have self-imposed boundaries?  Especially when airing opinions cause distance and sometimes alienation in relationships? I’ve been thinking recently about the consequences of posting on a public forum and unabashedly sharing such opinions.  As Abe Lincoln knew, some of them popular to some, but not all; some of them repellent or offensive to some, but not all.  An opinion is nothing more than a personal belief.  As such, it vexes me why stating one’s opinion could ever offend another person.  I suppose opinions run the whole gamut of casual musings to utter vehemency and benign remarks about a group or person to truly malicious ones.  For practical purposes, let’s say one is just stating a belief which this person clearly believes in to the nth degree.  Perhaps an opinion stated with such surity  seems like an insult to anyone who would disagree and have similar depth of belief in their opinion.  This is where we start treading into a dangerous briar patch though.   The only reason I can imagine someone being offended over someone else’s opinion would be that a) either he felt the person was stating their opinion as fact or b) he felt that his opinions, after invested in and developed as a result of years of experience and research, were actually facts.  This is where we get into trouble, intolerance and separation.  Suddenly, we are holding our ‘opinions’ aloft as the Gospel and by choosing to be offended by others, we are in essence saying that there is no room for them.  We have already found the Holy Grail of truth and any others who disagree are clearly “misguided” or “confused.” 

Anger and defiance over someone’s opinion (usually equally as strong), when it does not match with our own is nothing short of intolerance and arrogance.  How can we get to a place where we agree to disagree?  Whatever happened to those days of true and gallant civility? Why does disagreeing with a person have to call into question their very validity and perspective as an individual human being?  Do we really believe that only 5%, 10% or even 80% have a monopoly on all of the ‘correct’ opinions or beliefs.  Opinions are not facts; to blur this line and begin to impose them on others with fervor or to take offense at a statement of opposing belief is ludicrous. 

Let’s look at the definition of freedom up close:

What strikes me the most: an exemption from external control, interference or regulation; also, an absence or release from ties or obligations the power to exercise choice and make decisions without constraint from within or without; autonomy; self-determination.  Let’s apply this definition to speech and airing of one’s opinions.  In order to have true freedom of speech, one needs to feel free to air one’s beliefs and opinions without punishment or constraints from the outside.  This could be in the form of a withdrawal of friendship or love if you’re stating opinions that are not inalignment with theirs religiously, politically or morally.  To an extreme, one might also face constraints of a grave nature like a censored  internet if opinions and beliefs shared are not in alignment with the agenda of the governemental powers that be, physical threats or death.  As human beings, we like to pay lip service to freedom of speech and encourage people to do so, but after they speak we punish them in myriad ways if their beliefs are in disagreement with ours.  How can we make another person’s beliefs moot?  It is impossible.  Each individual soul has just as much right as anyone else to be on this planet.  We all have our individual lessons to learn and at different rates.  I do not believe that there are a select few who after much refinement, study or soul-searching have finally found all of the answers that have plagued man or even none of the answers.  We do have our experiences, our hearts and our beliefs – and no one can ever question or disparage those.  Punishment for expressing the ‘wrong’ opinions is oppression, pure and simple.  So the next time someone’s opinion pushes your button and you find yourself getting  self-righteous and defiant, let’s take a step back and pause, and remember that there is enough room for all opinions and beliefs without one cancelling another out.  Who knows, through exercising tolerance, we may even find ourselves loosening our grip on our own beliefs long enough to open our minds and hearts to truly listen and make room for others at the table.

You’ll just know.
You’ll just…
know.

I finally know.

Intuition
like a lightning bolt,
like a realization
at the tip of my tongue
yet light-years away
and not composed of any words at all.

Reaching out to touch it,
my chest caves in
as I cross over dimensions
and break through magnetic fields.

Crushing. Imploding. Recoiling. Resounding.

The universe aligns
and I catch a glimpse
of a worm-hole
black-hole
holy grail of light.

If you open up the sun,
life as we know it
will end.

I catch my breath.

Yes.
This is it.

Grandma and Grandpa joined us for some Buckeye football. Well, it was more like Grandpa came for the football and Grandma came to spend time with Frick and Frack (I don’t blame her one bit!).

They brought chili in a crock-pot that Grandpa had made (spicy and good) and I willingly attempted to watch the game (I think I lasted a solid five minutes of actual game time) with Grandpa and Mad Dog.

Frick and Frack were invited to play with their cousin at a nearby park. Grandma jumped at the chance to escape football and enjoy the gorgeous day. This quickly evolved into an invite for Frick and Frack to spend the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s.

This is the Holy Grail of parenthood; willing Grandparents who offer to take your children OVERNIGHT and who seem to genuinely enjoy the company of your children. I suppose in small doses, Frick and Frack are quite charming and endearing. Of course with this charm and endearment comes equal parts impulsivity and hyperactivity (like Frick biting a little girl at Grandma and Grandpa’s church day care; in a church of all things, where were the boy’s scruples??!!!).

Mad Dog and I were in heaven. I drank wine; Mad Dog ran to Publix and got me some cake (it’s vanilla and is essentially a glorified Twinkie) and some Haagen Dazs ice cream. We had an ‘Entourage’ marathon upstairs in the loft and slept in really, really late the next morning. This was all followed by Mad Dog making breakfast (he does a pretty mean scrambled egg) complemented with mimosas. After the breakfast dishes were cleared and cleaned (by Mad Dog, he deserves the recognition), we took the remainder of our mimosas, sat out on the lanai and read in peaceful silence.

I had forgotten that such as thing as peaceful silence exists. I suppose you have to lose something to truly recognize its absence and appreciate its return. Welcome back peace and quiet, oh, how we’ve missed you!

I’ve tried a few times when I was younger to get into the Monty Python series of films, I never really “got” them and had never made it through an entire film without turning it off. After a break of about a decade I was quite happy to come back to them, knowing that my sense of humour has changed I was hoping to look at these films in a new light. I wasn’t wrong. The beginning of the film left me a little confused as I wasn’t sure I was watching the right thing, turns out it was a gag. The film itself feels like a series of sketches, which kept the film at a good pace and didn’t allow it to drag. The only downside was the ending, not really sure what’s going on with that! All in all a good film.

I’ve been recently working on a project for a non-profit Christian group. Basic logo with a Jesus fish, no big deal. But me, not being a fish person, does a little bit of research, checking out all the different variations of the symbol. 

Basically, it looks like this:

I am, however, very interested in symbology. I like the history of words and shapes and how they come to mean what they do. So, me, being all new to this whole Jesus fish thing … I search around on the internet checking out where the whole thing came from.

I ran into a couple of plausible explanations:

• It’s comes from the first letter of the Greek alphabet, Alpha. The Bible says something about, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.” Rev 22:13 
• It comes from how Jesus used fish in his ministry, and so was a direct representation of Him.
• It comes from how Christians were able to identify one another without being persecuted by the Romans, by drawing curved lines in the sand – one would draw half the arc, and the other person would finish it. Apparently like a secret, sandy handshake.

But then I came across this image:

And then I found this image:

And everything began to move in a whole other direction.

Just when I was trying to “Christian myself up” for this logo job, I find myself looking at female sex organs. Who would’ve known? I thought Christians wanted to deny their existence? Hmmm, must investigate further…

But unfortunately, I couldn’t – because of some reason or another and the job had to be put on the back burner for a higher paying gig. And my work day ended and I went home. And it got time to go to bed and I’m flipping around the tv channels. All 12 of them. Five of them are Christian, and 1 is Spanish speaking. So, I choose to drift off to a soft spoken man talking about the Search for the Holy Grail instead of the annoying blonde on HSN hawking handbags.

And I listened to his nice, even-toned voice half falling asleep. I heard him say how it was the bane of many a man, so jewel-encrusted, so holy, so rich, the cup at the last supper, blah, blah, blah. And I had this thought as I was drifting…

The cup. The vessel. The holy grail. Is a woman. After all, aren’t women holy vessels? Don’t we hold the very substance that is necessary to co-create life?

Duh. 

I’m positive I’m not the first one to realize this, and maybe I’m a little behind the times, but I had never thought of this before.I don’t study the Bible and I don’t follow Christianity or any of its tambourine playing sects. It was just odd how the two moments in time coagulated into this one cohesive brain fire. 

The following day, I’m back on the Jesus fish job and I’m having a hard time seriously getting into the whole logo idea. Now I see it as a giant vagina. Now I see what they want plastered all over their letterhead and business cards and envelopes is a pagan symbol for female fertility. But I do the job anyway and reluctantly try to push aside all my desires to school the well-intentioned Christian who hired me.

And now I’m stuck thinking about the Search for the Holy Grail and the symbology of the Jesus fish. I’m circling Christian beliefs around in my mind and trying to remember all my 6 years of Catholic school lessons. They never talked about this, that’s for sure.

I think I know this much:

• Women are the bane of man
• We look best jewel-encrusted and rich (I like this one the best)
• We are holy and receivers of life-giving fluids

Hmmm, I wonder if the delicate and sweet non-profit Christians think about their symbology? I wonder if they look at that fish and just see Jesus. Or do they see the holiness of women? Are they reminded of Jesus feeding many a man with but a few fish or of the females role in creation? 

Christians believe God is the great Creator. But He created women – who also create. And we do it together with men. 

One way or another, I’m just happy I’m a female. Part of me knows I am the Holy Grail.

I see my likeness on many a car bumper driving to work. I’m proud.  Jesus loves me.

Singing the John Prine classic, just because it’s such a great song.

Gear used for this video: Reverend Rocco, Dr Z Mini Z head, Avatar 2×12 cab & a Holy Grail reverb. Oh yeah, and a busted up straw hat, too, for good measure

Lentz HSL into Dr Z Mini Z head, Part III… this time w/ a backing track in the style of Gary Moore’s Still Got The Blues. The tones this guitar deliver never cease to amaze me.

Gear used:

Scott Lentz HSL, neck position.
Dr Z Mini Z amp: Volume at 1500hrs, and attenuator on 3.
EH Holy Grail verb, knob at 0900hrs.

Sorry about all the clams, I was just going for the fun tones

Unless you are living in a box, you’ve heard of mineral makeup by now. It is all over the infomercials and in department stores under every brand name. The problem with those store brand knock offs is that when you check the ingredients, they are filled with a whole bunch of crap that makes the value of using minerals completely disappear. Even the most beloved (and expensive) brands like Bare Minerals have this stuff called bismuth oxychloride listed as the main ingredient, and that is essentially just a filler – and one that is not good for your skin. Many bad reactions have been noted over the years.

Anyhow, when I stumbled upon Everyday Minerals a couple years ago I was curious, but still weary having tried some of the overpriced brands previously on the market just to find out it was essentially garbage. It received glowing reviews from everyone on a couple different forums I visited, and it was bottom dollar price compared to everything I had tried. Even better was the free samples they provided so you could find the perfect shade. I have never experienced this with a company besides them, and it served to make me a loyal customer – not just because of the great customer service, but because the product was truly minerals in their purist form. I also loved that it actually worked as a base instead of just a powder like some of the others had. That is because it comes in varying formula intensities – Matte, Semi Matte, Original Glo, and Intensive. Intensive formulas work as well as any foundation.

They seem to be doing quite well now as their word of mouth was so strong from the very beginning, so their prices are no longer as cheap as they once were. This was a bit of a disappointment at first, but when I consider how much I adore the product I realize it is worth it, not to mention it is still cheaper than the competition. They no longer allow you to receive a custom free sample color kit without purchase, but you can still get a selection of similar shades in the sample size for free with any purchase, which is still a pretty good deal. Most missed is the large custom kits they used to offer, in which you could get six large items for around thirty dollars, but I suspect this was holding them back from making much profit.

If you are looking for mineral makeup, I strongly suggest avoiding everything you find in the department stores and going straight to everydayminerals.com. I can’t imagine life without it now. Before I found them, I was trying everything and anything from Mac to Smashbox to Covergirl and back, and I could no longer stand the look or feel of liquid makeup. Mineral makeup doesn’t feel like you’re wearing makeup and it looks natural, which is the best part. I will never go back, and I will cry if they ever discontinue this wonderful line.

- Albert Einstein

Perseverance is a key asset in being successful in a business. But you need to make sure that what you’re trying to achieve is possible. If you keep trying a certain way again and again and it never seem to work out, maybe you need to do things differently.

The problem with holy grails
One of the riskiest play you can have is to wait for a holy grail to happen. “If we become the standard in X or Y, then everything will fall into place”, “Once we launch this new product, the market will recognize our brilliance”,  ”Now that we have this new customer, everybody else will buy”. To be honest, rarely these things pan out as expected and you are often left out with a broken business.

Making sure that you are not just trying to reach holy grail or that your plan is even remotely possible is fundamental. Otherwise, you will go insane trying to make it happen…

This is believed to be the cup that Jesus drank out of at the last supper.

If any of you follow MUA you will know of the phrase HG in relation to products that actually work well and are worth the money. I am slightly obsessed with finding such products, and I would like to share my HG finds with you.

First up is Bio Oil, the only moisturizer I will ever use. Living in Canada I have to suffer through six months of unbearable weather in which my skin is dry and awful – unless I use this stuff, in which case I end up looking relatively normal. I found this product early on through scouring the internet for a moisturizer that would actually work, after trying everything on the market and being left flakey and angry. Back then this had not been released in Canada, so I bought it through ebay for around 15$ with shipping, and hoped for the best. To my surprise it was everything everyone said it was, and everything it claimed to be. I use it religiously in the winter: on my face before bed – although it is a dry oil it is still an oil so you can’t use it right before you put on your makeup in the morning, it needs at least 15 mins to fully absorb – and all over after a shower, especially on the legs, knees, feet and elbows. They now sell it here in Canada at Shoppers, and compared to most high end moisturizers it is dirt cheap at around 9$. It is noncomedogenic and also works to fade scars, fight aging and prevent stretch marks. I have not tried it in that capacity but I have read tons of reviews claiming it helped, so if you are looking for something to try, this is definitely worth the money. I refuse to be without it in the winter months.

One can almost say that he, who has greeted the morning star, has forever lost the use of his sight and his reason, because he is fascinated by this false light and cast into the abyss…unless, as in your case, a great stroke of fate comes to pull him unexpectedly from the edge of the precipice.

4th density frees one from the illusion of “time” as you WILL to perceive it. Picture driving down a highway, suddenly you notice auras surrounding everything…. Being able to see around corners, going inside little cottages which become mansions, when viewed from inside… Going inside a building in Albuquerque and going out the back door into Las Vegas, going to sleep as a female, and waking up male… Flying in a plane for half an hour and landing at the same place 5 weeks later…

The strongest impression of my early childhood – I was seven years old – an impression of which I still retain a vivid memory, was the emotion aroused in my young heart by the sight of a gothic cathedral. I was immediately enraptured by it. I was in an ecstasy, struck with wonder, unable to tear myself away from the attraction of the marvellous, from the magic of such splendour, such immensity, such intoxication expressed by this more divine than human work

In terms of the myths and stories of the search for the Holy Grail, or, in our modern metaphor, the escape from the Matrix, we see that Perseus killed the sea serpent and married Andromeda. They set off together as a team: righting wrongs, freeing the oppressed, turning the bad guys into stone, and lived, as far as is known, happily ever after.

Thus, as a symbol of gaining Freedom from the Matrix, we find, first, that Perseus is the Hero of choice, and, second, that the dynamics of the only myth that is fully represented in the Sky over our very heads are those which suggest to us our path of “tracking” the clues that will enable each participant to not only cut off the head of their own Medusa, thus releasing the Truth in the form of the Winged Horse, Pegasus, but also, with the aid of this Truth, to participate in the Freeing of Andromeda. I believe that no more important task is before us in the Earth today.

I don’t know if I’ve dropped this bomb yet, but I’m two weeks in on a stage at the Grand Cafe, which is a bistro in south Minneapolis. What that means is that I’m working on a volunteer basis in order to learn how to work in a restaurant kitchen. It’s been a really positive experience so far, and I’m glad to have this opportunity. In exchange for my labor, John, the chef de cuisine, invited me to have dinner at the cafe for free!

What can I say? The meal I had last night blew me away. As each course came out, I immediately noticed little things that I had played a part in: the shredded duck, julienned pickled peppers, little leaves of frisée. It was a great feeling. I’ve never been so proud. The supreme icing on the cake was a last round of vodka shots in the Grand kitchen with the chefs. Bliss.

I didn’t take pictures, but here’s my recollection of what we had (I scribbled these down last night when I was drunk so NO GUARANTEES):

ocean trout tartare w/ truffle oil on a house-made cracker
seared scallops on a squash puree
spicy shrimp w/ pickled peppers and cheesy grits (paired with Pabst Blue Ribbon!!!)
blue cheese tart and duck confit salad
ahi tuna w/ leeks/escarole/bacon and potato puree
duck breast w/ potato gnocchi
pumpkin creme brulee