All mojo energy stems from strong teenage sexual experiences… And lotsa mine happened at the beach – granted not at the “SHORE”, but rather at the “BEACH”. New Yorkers call it the ‘”BEACH” – New Jerseans call it the “SHORE” I must still be a New Yorker even after my 20 years in New Jersey. And the Long Beach Boardwalk was the source, the well, the underbelly of teenage life in the summer on Long Island. Under it, over the rail, or walking along it.. there it was. The source of this ex-teenager’s subconscious mojo life.
In the summer, no kid in their right mind would pay $5.00 to sit on the beach for the day.. so jumping off the boardwalk was a must. And therein is the thrill.. the thrill of getting away with not having to pay for the beach for the day. No one should have to pay for the beach EVER! The problem with Long Island and most beach front towns, is that there is a sense that it is owned by someone. Such a problem. Not in Jamaica… (unless you are trying to walk a resort beach and encounter a huge fence blocking the beach off to non resort paying vacationers).. not on the river, either (where live now). Now that thrill, that thrill of getting away with bucking the system, THAT was the thrill. Then hanging out under the boardwalk and making out. Y’Know, ’cause no one knew we were there.. making out. 
. ha!
But today..
TODAY is DAY #3 of my MOJO QUEST. I am heading to Island Beach State Park with the man I love. Walking the beach in the afternoon. Gonna inhale the sea air and the feel the ocean breeze upon my face! Anticipating and already feeling some good, Mojo energy.
This should be a good Mojo Quest day.
Out to play more music, since music is the amazing mojo vehicle from the gut. And so off to one of the many wonderful open mike/social havens of our delaware valley community. My chicken farmer/flute playing cohort was there, with a coors light… and her flute. And who, but the MIGHT MOJO himself – with his hair that is longer than it has EVER been in his whole life – was present for the quest. Bill played his ukulele while singing some traditional gems with a sweet passion and resolve that is so refreshing. Brenda, of Jack & Brenda, sang with the strongest of deliveries EVER!!! loved it. Claudia was beautiful and heavenly to watch. And My MIGHTY MOJO sang “GOD BLESS THE CHILD” (accompanied by Tom and John) with gusto and good solid pitch. A wonderful open mike! A satisfying chapter in the MOJO QUEST. But, still, what IS Alex doing in the Ladies room?
I started my quest today to find my mojo. Now I don’t mean “MOJO” in that sexual way really, because THAT I really have not lost… ok, ok, so maybe it has waned a bit from the 40ish height it had reached. Yet, honestly, that part of my mojo is really quite in tact. It the other kind of Mojo. Of course there’s a lot of kinds of mojo – and you should really know about them. Like there’s the MIGHTY MOJO – that infamous local band – that is now minus Val. Also, there are some food items that are Mojo related. Also, some drinks .. stuff like this. So, to make a relatively long-winded circular type story a bit shorter.. it’s the “ARTIST MOJO” !!! The ”LIFE MOJO”!!! the humor, the fire, the STUFF that make the THINGS happen!!! I am looking for it. I think I just misplaced it and RE-placed it with some unsavory replacement-type items. Like merchandizing… and paying bills… and the stuff of adult life. Ok, I turned over a few rocks yesterday, and there!..THERE IT WAS- the FERTILE SOIL of my mojo.. waiting, WANTING in all it’s infinite Fer-tile soil-ness for me to plant those MOJO SEEDS!!! (nice conceptual metaphor, I think.)
So, I went to a drumming circle in a little gallery in gardenville today. It was so good.. Felt my Mojo coming up like nobody’s business. Surrounded by art all around, and some like-minded ladies, the session was quite satifying from a mojo-quest point of view. Afterward, I went to the location of the Future FLEMFEST.. and practiced for an upcoming concert event with a fabulous chicken farmer/flute player.
So, having planted some of those seeds today, I am so sure that they want to sprout.. (how’s THAT for mojo awareness!) Next… the accordian.
I always considered that driftwood chair as my throne. Being a Leo, there never seemed to be any reason why I should not have one. So, I put this chair, or rather throne, out on my loading dock -my precious loading dock that adorns my studio/shop. It seems that this throne has been the subject of far more “are you selling that” inquiries than any of my clothing has been. Not surprising, it is beautiful. It was made by a friend of my friend, Parran. I cannot remember his name, only that he made it out of driftwood and I traded it for handprinted clothing at a craft fair in Maryland.
ANYWAY…. Barry, my man, is sharing this studio with me, my studio with the loading dock. And he is displaying natural edged wood (http://www.homegrownhardwoods.com) in long planks. We are going to make chairs out of driftwood – similar of course, but could not be the same. I guess we are carrying on the tradition. We started collecting some wood this past weekend. Made me remember the joy I felt when I first moved out here. Someone nearby my home had been doing some of the same. I came upon a bunch of collected pieces of wood, balls, fish bones that were sitting on the river bank. The best thing was a skeletonized deer fetus. It sound really gross, but it was so groovy. I left it there. Yet, I don’t think anyone else really can do anything at all with it. But I am thinking they probably do not make prints from old carcasses like I do. So, by leaving the deer carcass there, I hope they realize what a great sacrifice I made. I think I am going back to get it. It a relief and a comfort to know that someone else has the “wow look at this really cool thing I found on the riverbank” disease just like I do.
Yeah.. I am going back to get it.
All mojo energy stems from strong teenage sexual experiences… And lotsa mine happened at the beach – granted not at the “SHORE”, but rather at the “BEACH”. New Yorkers call it the ‘”BEACH” – New Jerseans call it the “SHORE” I must still be a New Yorker even after my 20 years in New Jersey. And the Long Beach Boardwalk was the source, the well, the underbelly of teenage life in the summer on Long Island. Under it, over the rail, or walking along it.. there it was. The source of this ex-teenager’s subconscious mojo life.