The Marilyn Monroe of Horses, Akhal-Teke.
I’m sitting on the toilet (pants up), laptop on lap, writing this post in the Ramada Inn in Charleston, West Virginia. My husband is asleep and has a cold, so I’m trying to keep things quiet.
I was just at an event called the Festival of Inspiration. No internet access, no cell phone. I didn’t miss it a bit, just had a blast visiting with friends from all over the world that I hadn’t seen in a year or more, and getting by on minimal sleep due to late night kirtans and heart-to-heart talks. My contribution to the “inspiration” was to sing Hare Krishna parodies of “Staying Alive,” and June Carter and Johnny Cash’s “Jackson” with my husband. I’d share them with you, Dear Reader(s), but it’s truly an inside joke. The audience roared with laughter, which energized us after so much travel and some mediocre responses at other venues.
I also sang a song of my own composition, a tender and sad number that had some in the audience crying. Applause is sweet, and it’s been a while since I’ve heard it directed at me. And it wasn’t really for me. The song was about Krishna; I was just the instrument, nimitta-matram.
Then I came back to civilization, checked in at Betsy’s blog, only to read in the comments that I should “get off my high horse.”
Oh, dear.
Tell you what, O Bringer-Down-to-Earth, O Helper-Down-from-My-Pedestal: why not get on a high horse? Just this once, pretty please? Let everyone ride high who can stay in the saddle, and if we can give each other a leg up or a even horsey-ride with us, so much the better.
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{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m so dazzled by that horse, I hardly know what to say. Even his eyes are gold.
Stay on that high horse, it’s a mythical creature.
And since I just recently went blonde myself, I’m a bit mythical also. Thanks.
Averil and CJ, I can always count on you to be there with a wise and positive word, even when I write a somewhat petulant little post. ♥ I just wanted to get something up without thinking about it too much. Late-late night blogging is almost as bad as drunk-dialing.
That horse is a beaut, isn’t he? I’m a little high just looking at him. Imagine giving him a good brushing. You’d come staggering out of the stable afterwards, dazzled and blissed-out.
I wish you’d post a video. If you did, I’d promise to think like an insider.
I want a high horse for sure. Being short, I think I deserve a high horse to get me up there next to everyone else. I also want my own shiny horn to blow, as loud and long as possible, because if I don’t, who will?
Now I’ll have to go over to Betsy’s to nose around and figure out what I missed.
I didn’t shoot any video of that particular show, because I was in it, AND exhausted. I may post some lyrics in the future, with full explanations, just to give people an idea.