under the full moon.

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i am sitting under the full moon. bundled against the chill, relishing the quiet of night. the dogs have their bells on. so they jingle with their movement. but in their stillness i can hear apples dropping from their trees. a muffled thud as they hit the earth.

i hear owls in the woods.

i hear a motorcycle shifting in the distance.

the dogs go to the apple tree and then bring apples to the terrace to eat them. a dog eating an apple sounds a lot like a human eating an apple. a snap of skin, and the crunch of sweet flesh.

and then the coyote starts barking in the backyard. at first i thinks it’s mo. then i realize it’s not my dogs. i call them both to me. give them a treat and hold them close as the wild animal barks and cackles behind the house.

and then it’s quiet again. the dogs lay down at my feet. ears alert, heads resting. and the only sound is the apples falling through the branches, hitting the earth with a thud.

allowing love where you find it.

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when it’s hard to find the love we hold for our selves, let others show you the way.

earlier today shelley asked me why we love dogs so much.

i didn’t have an immediate answer.

but as i have mulled the question over, i think we love dogs because they love us! it’s an easy, comforting love. a love that asks simple things of us: shelter & food. it’s quite uncomplicated.

we humans like to complicate matters. so it’s refreshing to be reminded of simple pleasures and easy love.

if love feels far away or too complicated right now, i offer simplification. a simple nourishing meal, a tender nap, whatever easy action you can take for yourself.

in love.

new moon february 2024

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happy new moon!

the sky is dark, the stars are twinkling in the absence of their celestial companion, and the clouds have moved on so i can see the night sky when i let the dogs out for their last pee before bed.

i have a tattoo that reads: tethered to the unfolding. its inked so i can read it in the mirror. i always imagined it to be a reminder for me when i was in the midst of the plan, whatever that might be, to stay true to the not knowing, but here i am stuck in the not knowing and it feels almost like a smirk, you said you were down for this.

the other day after a storm of emotion i sat down at my desk determined to make sense of what was roiling. what came out was a question: how do i sit in the limbo? here i am tethered to the unfolding.

i’m still writing my way through this message. understanding the discomfort and allowing it to just be. it is what it is. not knowing is uncomfortable. sometimes its exciting and others, excruciating. so when one of my favorite artists sent their newsletter out for the new moon earlier this week and it was all about sitting in the unknown and pondering, i felt so seen.

mystic mamma makes stunning collage work and calendars. their work has inspired some of my own work and their cosmic downloads are honest and always poignant. so i was really stoked to get this message of listening for this new moon. dedicating ourselves to what it is we are made for and allowing that to come to us organically, rather than forcing it.

sit where i am and listen to what is inside. don’t overwork it, let it percolate from the soil my ancestors are buried in. let it bubble up from my dreams.

i know this. i have known this. and i will forget it and then the universe will gently nudge me again, or slap me across the face if i haven’t been paying attention.

so i made a list of tools that help me sit in this not knowing, that allow me to keep my wits about me as the world rages and i seem to be stuck in limbo.

it will eventually turn into a piece of art. but for now its a simple list, cause damn i love a list and when all else fails i make a list of shit i know i will get done so i can have the satisfaction of crossing shit off the list and feeling the sense of accomplishment after i do so.

all the best.

recognizing what is real and what is a lie.

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i’ve been tracking my menstruation for years. i started on a app, but felt weird sharing personal info with the tech world…i colored in the days i was bleeding on my moon phase calendar for a while, but i wanted more info. so about five years ago i started creating a yearly tracker, with a key for symbols that capture symptoms of pms, or what i ate, or how much alcohol i drank, or what my emotional landscape feels like. it has allowed me the insight to understand my cycle and the cause and effect my actions have on my lived experience in my body.

that being said; knowing how or why something is happening doesn’t necessarily change the felt reality.

for instance, the other morning i woke up in a terrible mood. i felt terrible about myself, that i was a failure, had not accomplished anything in my life, had nothing to show for any of my work, was unlikable and fat.

i knew this was a pms symptom. it felt like my period immediately. yet, it still felt awful. i was grumpy, sad, angry and miserable. i vocalized my terrible mood to shelley. she sympathized and asked if i wanted to go for a walk. i clearly stated that i would rather be miserable and alone, despite that i knew the walk would help alleviate the angst.

but i didn’t go for the walk. i wanted to revel in my own pity party. so i brewed a cup of tea, went upstairs to my office, turned on an audiobook, and dusted my altar. i cried it out in my comfy office chair. i ate some cookies. i pet the dogs and cats cause they all know when i need some loving. shelley came and sat on the floor and did a crossword. then i kicked everyone out of the office, closed the door, lit some incense and wrote for a while.

then i got dressed and we went and ran some errands.

knowing my misery was hormonal did not change the fact that the feelings were present. so i sat with them, let them run their course and continued with my day.

going for a walk may have been a better choice for my body, but sometimes you have to indulge your emotional self.

being kind to myself

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i think i’ve written elsewhere here that i had a sort of - i need to get my shit together - moment before i turned 45. in december i turned 46. i did some big things in my 45th year. and i also had to focus on reality in a way that has never been asked of me before. with a big helping of grace and understanding i felt pretty good going into 46. my birthday is a week before winter solstice, a time i love to begin turning inward and dreaming how i will show up and grow as the light grows with me. i love new years and i’ve developed a long and drawn out process of reflection and visioning that usually takes me two months to work my way through. this process is not set in stone but there are foundational elements and tools i turn to again and again. maybe someday i’ll write more in depth about this process. in the past few years there has been very little movement of the so called needle in regards to what i dream up and what actually happens by the end of the year. i write out lists and time management strategies and then life seems to take over and not really work towards finishing what i wanted to start.

this is part perfectionism as a way of keeping myself small, part being dishonest with myself about what it is I want versus what I should want, and also i really like everything done; chores, dishes, laundry, garden planted, veggies harvested, dogs walked, groceries shopped, meals prepped etc etc etc before i dive into the big stuff, which is why i find myself here, at 46 with little to show for myself professionally but a hell of life lived. but i want more big stuff lived. there are some big things i’ve wanted for a long time, i’m talking book publishing big, and haven’t moved the proverbial needle at all. so here i am.

last year i picked up a book called 50 hikes in vermont. when i picked up the book somewhere inside of my being told me, “here’s your thing…50 hikes before 50!

so in order to do this i need to get strong. not just lose some weight strong but mentally and emotionally stronger than i am now. funny how this years tarot card is strength, the tarot always has the last laugh. i want to be stronger at the end of the year than i am right now.

of course being able to lift heavier stuff when i turn 47(!) than i can right now isn’t the real goal. being stronger is being able to show up in vulnerable ways. being clear in my communication and specific in what i want is part of this goal, because strength is measured in weight lifted, along with all types of other fitness metrics, but also by resilience and mobility of body and spirit.

it feels scary to share the specifics of this process.

this is a hard metric to track.

but tracking it is not necessarily the point. the point is the process. becoming who i want to be, a strong active person who is not limited by my physical capability, or lack there of. a person not afraid to challenge myself and trust the process, not just crave the accomplishment of the desired end.

new moon january 2024

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i love how the cold seems to brighten the stars.

there is snow on the ground and i am so grateful for the snow.

i love how the dogs romp in the snow.

how the moon reflects on the snow.

and how now that the moon is hidden in the night, i can see the stars when i go to the bathroom with no lights on in the middle of the night.

the syncing of the new moon with the dawn of the year feels potent, the unfolding of the year ahead of us is rich with opportunity, fertilized by our intent and determination.

january as an experiment in creating my own rhythms

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hello hello from the cozy chair in the room we use as a dining room and a living room and call a library. living in this old farmhouse has us conserving heating resources and gathering hearth side. we are so grateful for our functioning fire places. our winter strategy is to relish the energy of a snow day; dogs snoring on our feet, books and empty tea cups stacking up on side tables. we go play outside then pour more tea and hang wet coats and hats to dry.

i am focusing on how the construct of my day reveals my priorities. setting myself up for some long term (i turn 50 in four years) goals. the rhythm of building slowly one day at a time till habit is formed feels appropriate and within my reach as the sun begins its slow ascent to the summer solstice.

i applied to grad school last year and i did not get in. i was pretty heartbroken. the bruise is still tender, and yet i know that when the universe closes one door it opens another and i am realizing as i am intentional in how i spend my time to support my future self, that i was not ready for grad school in that iteration, that i have more work to do here where i am in my life before i give my energy to creating for others.

i have more to accomplish closer to home, a body to tend and heal, and by focusing on and reorienting myself i will find what it is i am meant to create for others.

that being said, i am trying to do something relatively hard for me. i’ve committed to working out for 45 minutes 2x a day. one workout happens early in the morning in an unheated room: my goal to generate enough heat that i am sweating at the end and then i go for a 3 mile dog walk in the afternoon before i cook dinner. this practice is new. i committed to 75 days. then i will reassess and see how it feels. is it serving me? do i feel stronger? is the format functional in my life?

i hope to write more about this process here, as i am focused on the process of this commitment. the mundane aspect of doing the same thing every single day, of relying on myself to fulfill my promise to myself.

wish me luck.

october already?

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after reading foucault in college i walked around telling anyone who would listen that time is a construct. now, i am floored by the nebulous reality of time. fall has arrived, the leaves have fallen, the mornings are cold enough for hats and scarves, we even turned the heat on!

the color of the sky has changed from the crisp hues of summer to moody clouds and sheepish blues.

the garden is still producing brassicas, pumpkins are ripening on the vine. i cut down an alder and a beech to make shitake logs and the garlic will go in this week. bean pods are drying in the greenhouse, and green tomatoes ripening in a basket on the porch with a banana.

i am beginning to take stock of how my year went. how did i do in terms of goals and dreams i set for myself? what needs a bit of refocusing to finish the year off strong? where can i realign? what can i let go of?

this year has given us some pretty big punches to the gut, and we have navigated them one step at a time. giving ourselves plenty of room for all of the emotions that arise and the pain and joy inherent in being human.

focusing on what does bring us joy, rather than what else could possibly sucker punch us.

here with a photo dump of garden bounty, misty mornings, and dogs. some of our truest joys.

river of fog

october roses

smaller worlds

tomatoes…..

and then its september...

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here with a photo dump and hope to continue my practice of showing up with regularity.

it has been a while since i have posted here. historically my lack of consistency would paralyze me into not writing. hence the reason i call this a practice, hoping it would allow permission for me to fail my own expectations and show up in spite of myself.

july and august whirled by with visits from friends, snakes in cars, an imperfect garden tour, world class classical music, new friends, porch sitting, dog watching, inundation by family and rain, camping on the ocean, an unexpected surgery and now the commencing healing of going slower than i want to.

dog walk chic.

september rose, planted by my grandmother.

monarch friend on a sunflower i grew from seed, for my love.

veggie garden joy. blue september sky.

saturday morning

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cool and grey. i sat by the pond today and drank my tea watching the red winged black birds land on lupin stems only slightly bending under their perch.

the dogs roamed in the underbrush as i wondered if the blooming, thorned arms below me are multiflora rose or blackberry. i looked it up and i have to go back out to the pond to see what color the inside of the blooms are, i’m hoping for green; blackberry.

the fish were not as active as yesterday but they are there and i am enjoying their breakfast hour on the rocks, listening to the frogs and birds.

most all of the garden is in. a few stragglers left to put in, marigolds and a random millet i picked up somewhere, not sure how or why. none the less they want a hole dug and so i will dig. maybe in this light rain. although my garden clothes are in the wash.

its not quite 8am and i have been awake for hours. i picked four stems of the fragrant white peony so the petals would not all fall in the rain. i looked up camping sites for our anniversary camping trip in october. its so quiet and there is no one else in the house except dogs, and cats. mornings like this feel like secrets.

the blooming meadows have been stunning this spring. the lupine, chickweed, and buttercups become anonymous in the big picture; swaths of color accentuating the contours of the hillside and fields. the grasses are stupendous. each seed head alive and dancing with pollen gently suspended and vibrating. i have always dreamed of the prairies in the middle of the country before the white people arrived. in my imagination they are undulating waves of grass meeting the sky as far as i can see. here the meadows end at the fields edge, woods and forest beyond.

yesterday i had a conversation about awe. apparently it is good for you to experience awe, there is a group in a nearby town organizing walks to inspire awe.

i am in awe every day. my stroll through the yard with my cup of tea as the dogs welcome the day, is a meditation in awe. just yesterday i found a collection of butterfly wings on the side of the driveway. maybe 10 butterfly’s worth of wings, their little body’s food for the swallows.

earlier in the week i watched a bird catch and eat a butterfly, but i did not realize they eat only the juicy body.

pay attention, be astonished, tell about it. i wrote these words on an index card that has been taped to the wall in my office for years. i think they were from a podcast with adrienne maree brown talking about octavia butler. they echo one of my favorite mary oliver lines; attention is the beginning of devotion.

these two phrases, mantras, prayers, illuminate why i want to write, because i am in awe of this earth and subsequently how we humans are throwing it away. it is our home, it is who we are. we do not exist with out the earth. it is hard to imagine that me reconnecting with my home is somehow going to help sustain our existence but i have to. otherwise it’s too fucking terrifying and i feel obsolete. on my gas powered car i have a bumper sticker that says: plants heal. its true, they do. they create powerful medicine for our bodies and souls, but more so the relationships we cultivate with plants have immense potential to heal.

full moon in sagittarius

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happy full moon dear ones.

this saturday june moon is a celebration of everything we are. enjoy yourself dear ones. do the things that feed your deepest senses. stay hydrated and slather on that spf friends.

summer is just around the corner. solstice is winking at you from across the room, inviting you to come play outside and enjoy yourself. remember you are nature. we humans are an integral part of the network of life on earth: trees, insects, fruit, soil, salt water, storms, rainbows, sunsets, forests, rivers, deserts, we are one of many. may we recognize our connections and relationships, witnessing one another in ourselves. revel in what makes us human, our commonality, and celebrate our difference.

as i write this note there is thunder rolling down the valley towards me, the first drops of much needed rain are tapping on my window and the clouds…

love what you love.

june is pride month. pride started in a riot. queer lives in all of our normalcy and mundane existence, soften the edges of world, blurring the binary, redefining beauty, and acceptance and pushing to create space for all of us. make sure you love your queerdos and celebrate your queerness, we are all queer, we all have aspects of us that blur the binary, because the binary is not human folx. so celebrate yourself, your love and enjoy one another. be kind. {at some point i will have to write about the difference between be kind and fuck politeness, but i don’t have time right now.}


getting outta my own way.

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wanting to write on a weekly basis, but not believing in myself enough to do so.


holding myself back from writing because i have not been doing it since the beginning, a beginning which does not have a footing in any time space continuum of my life. where do i start? what do i say? who i am writing to? for?

all of these reasons and the dogs. those are my excuses. and any others i conjure while doing EVERY DAMN thing except sitting down to write. i am unravelling my resistance to writing regularly, consistently.

so i am collecting the pictures i take of my surroundings. as i walk around the yard, i dream in lines of poetry that never make it to the page. hoping something will catch my attention long enough to make it to the keyboard.

we got a frost this week. the apple blossoms turned brown and now the lilacs are falling from branches in the wind. i picked them up this morning and filled my empty tea cup. i sat on the porch and picked each individual flower off its stem and dropped it into a teal green bowl.

below are ways i am going to support my desire to write more consistently.

schedule time on calendar. no clients, no dogs, no errands. just writing time.

read more poetry. it inspires me.

listen to less stories. the audio file has been the death of my creativity lately.

stay hydrated. its helps lubricate the brain and body.

drink my herbs. they support my nervous system.

communicate with friends. they are endless sources of joy and love.

create projects that have accountability built in. daily practices etc.

being in relationship with space, noticing my surroundings. leaving room in silence, finding release in my creativity. trusting myself. these are the strategies, i hope to cultivate in this iteration of existence shelley and i are carving.

putting down roots to support what we want in the future. a home of our own, an art practice that i share with you and a career that excites my brain and returns thanks to earth. my practice is where this dream first took flight and i’d like to revive it, dedicate myself to its vessel. accepting where it has delivered me today and where it will take me in my future.

with love cathlinstar

my month in photos 5.30.2023

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a month can feel so infinite. where was i when it began? home, trusting that spring was on the way and now spring has played her hand, climate change is real; it freezes the apple blossoms, creating brown clouds of petals. it blows a strange stormless wind for days, keeping the black fly’s away. i pray for the tight pink buds of the falls apples and i haven’t read my book for book club. i poured 25 8” rainbow trout into the pond on tuesday afternoon. wednesday morning we sat on the rock at the side of the pond with dogs at our feet, bathing our faces in the mornings first warmth of sun hoping to see fish. yesterday i saw them jumping.

mother and i cleared the jungle of blackberrys and choke cherry where the mock orange and lilac are. we found quite a few roses and exposed the wall at the edge of the lawn. my back is sore and my hamstrings are tight.

i have been enjoying my mornings and trying to lean into their organic nature, allowing them to provide for me what i need for my day, and my relationship. the dogs often fill me with joy. they make me laugh and are sweet companions. they are muddy and goofy and bring me outside early in the am and for that i grateful.

afternoon storm, sunlit spring trees.

baby maple leaves

and a girl and her mulch pile.

climate change in a green bowl.

say hello to moon, outloud.

rhubarb tequila. batch 2023.

the not so glamorous side of gardening.

vase with lilacs

motto. keep it simple.

with love, cathlinstar

so it is.

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the land is waking. green is sprouting forth from soggy earth. the melt was loud and the frogs are louder. we adopted a 6 month old puppy. puppy energy is joyful. unapologetic. and i am trying to lean into her energy rather than become rigid in my desire to have a morning routine.

i have been building a morning routine this year to support my long term goals. its a rule of the universe that as soon as we impose a boundary the universe tests you to see how strong you feel about the boundary. this year has thrown quite a few obstacles at my morning routine. and now puppy. the quintessential routine destroyer, although not…

she needs a routine more than i do. i can see her nervous system relax when her needs are met on a routine basis. what can i learn about my need for routine from this long legged puppy who gallops to me when i call her name?

sleep, eat, water, bowel movements, investigate, exercise and tons and tons of play!

these are my lessons from mo, our 6 month old golden retriever rescue pup. she is dear and sweet and loves to snuggle and romp in the fields. i am grateful she takes us out into the world.