Slappin Mud on a Dream
Slappin Mud on a Dream
The music of this place
is the sound of a river
nearing the end of runoff
where we sift dirt like flour
add water and straw to make mud
for the walls of a house
past memories stirred
of sandboxes and getting muddy
now our hands in the slurry mix
until the batter is just right
on our hands.
ready to trowel, throw,
and slap the dark
smell of a cave
on the rough straw bail undercoat
that will hold the memory of hands
the beauty of a dream
a strawbale house
gratification
on a river where nimiipuu catch
salmon we eat for lunch
a house of earth, friendship, love
next to an eternal river flowing
in front of this house of mud
a dream no more
where salmon have returned
for thousands of years in a Box canyon
of imagination, light, and color
of memories that became
a story of the days
we slapped mud on a dream.
David Gallipoli
Plan for the day.
Intimacy with the Earth- Joey
Young and old played together in the mud, and we all enjoyed it.
-Laurie
"Loving Creativity" - Kay A.H
Soul to soul around the picnic table
elbows to elbows around the mud hut.
-Juli
In the midst of getting dirty, I find my soul cleansed.
-Virginia
Building community, nurturing friendships, and learning to let go. Thank you, Momma Kay and Mother Earth. "Trust the process."
-Corrine
I have truly lived the definition of sacred love and unity these
last two days-my heart is changed and broken open.
-Kay La Bella
Dedicated To Kay La Bella and Corrine
Thank you, Kay, for your dream
for taking part in slappin mud
and knowing you get to live in this
earth-crafted beauty resting
in a beautiful place.
Love, David Gallipoli
Finish.
Photo by Kay
David and Juli
Photo by Laurie