hrtm hrtm

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Matthew James Hartman  ♊️ ☀️ / ♓️ 🌙 / ♏️ 🌄 / Nomad -> '84 VW Westfalia -> based in New Mexico / Musician / Mechanic / Spieler / Black Flag & Free Jazz / currently in NM

Decided it was high time to be able to play the drums again after a 2+ year absence...

panorama view

The sunset was magik enough, but, as I was taking this shot, four deer rounded the corner of a nearby house and slowly cruised up the arroyo, bathed in a wonderous orange glow provided by the sky above. Mom couldn't have been more present if she'd come back to life and snuck up on me from behind.

How I wish, how I wish you were here....

Tomorrow will mark the 6th week since my mother began her journey to the next world.  According to the Tibetan Book of the Dead it can take 49 days to make this journey.  I can’t say I have a strong sense of where mom is now but I hope that her journey has been peaceful and beautiful, and that she is finding her next place without hardship.  She is in my thoughts everyday, every hour, every moment.  I burn cedarwood to show my enduring love and to nurish her spirit.  I burn pine to bring grounding and to keep her from negative energies.  Last month I placed some of her ashes underneath a tree at the crest of the Sandia Mountains.  Now, every morning I can look up at the mountain and know that part of who she was in this world will always be there.  Journey safe mom.  Please let me know when you arrive. (artwork by @thundervoice_eagle)

BTW go to powwows.com and stream the Gathering live. It's more moving in person but when you can't physically bring or move your person.... #gatheringofnations

Today marks 5 weeks since mom began her journey to the next world. It's also day one of the annual Gathering of Nations pow-wow here in ABQ. I couldn't make it today. But I've been alternately tuning into the webcast all day, burning ceremonial incense, and playing music/attempting to write new stuff. I know all these things continue to help guide mom to the next. #loveisall #waterislife

What I wouldn’t do for just one more hug…. The lonely is deep

The struggle is real

The letting-go nearly impossible

Things Could Be Worse

Sour Cream - A short story about today, March Thirtieth, Two Thousand Seventeen.
I did laundry today. First thing. I also found a purple shawl that had been inside the dryer and, for some reason, I put it out on the back porch on a hanger to blow in the wind and catch some early springtime sun & warmth. After having some tea and some grapefruit juice I went out and gently raked and collected all of the winter’s leaves that had amassed on the East side of the house since late last year. I didn’t know it yet, but mom was cremated today. The funeral home called in the late afternoon. I collected Tophe and hopped in the van ASAP. I was eager to have her home again. And then, during the drive, I thought of it - El Patio. It had long been our favorite New Mexican restaurant in town. Indeed, almost every single one of our respective plane trips into and out of Albuquerque was preceded by or followed by a trip to El Patio. She always got the same thing. The “#10”: green chile chicken enchiladas, no sour cream, and a glass of merlot.
I brought mom & Tophe into the patio and found a shady spot. “Anything to drink”, the waiter asked.
“A nine ounce merlot please”, I replied.

Mom sat expectantly on the table.
Tophe poked and prodded the ground for any scraps that may have been left behind during the lunch hour.

The waiter returned with our wine:
“Do you need more time or….?”
“No, I’ll have the number ten, thank you”
“Number Ten….I’ll have that right out for you…." I was purposeful in NOT saying “hold the sour cream”. The number ten always came with sour cream. When dining together I would ask mom to say “sour cream on the side” so that at least I could have some sour cream with my order that didn’t normally come with sour cream. Sour cream was extra everywhere else except the number ten.

When the waiter brought the plate I could only smile.
There was no sour cream……

I awoke shortly after 1am. Unable to go back to sleep, I decided to get up & play Bach’s “Air on a G String” on nylon string guitar for her - a few times in fact, for I hadn’t attempted to play it in a very long time and was quite rusty.  I sang to her The Beatles’ “I Will” by Paul McCartney...“Who knows how long I’ve loved you / You know I love you still….”. After that I found a beautiful Indian sitar drone in the key of C, and played that for her - soon realizing it was also in the key of The Beatles' “Tomorrow Never Knows”. So I spontaneously started to softly sing the words to her…”Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream…It is not dying…It is not dying….Lay down all thought, surrender to the void…It is shining…It is shining…”….and she finally let go.

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