Veronica Varlow's Danger Dame

Fire. Ritual. Seduction.

Veronica Varlow — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 02:37:01 +0000

Tonight, under a waning crescent moon, in a Brooklyn warehouse, three friends made magick together in the name of art.

When I found myself beside them, I was covered in the mud of my land. The dirt from the mountain, the land that once held my home. The home that was taken by the fire, the home that left little clues of its existence in the dirt…a broken plate here, a piece of scattered yellow glass, a chip of its mint green paint.

The mud was still on me when I landed in Brooklyn, when Flambeaux and Abby pulled me into the warehouse. They are Phoenixes themselves….having lost everything in a fire two years ago. We are here together to create something magic…to create fantasy among the flames. The two of them lifted a huge crown on me, made by Flambeaux’s hands….three fire tails arch down the back, the metal twisted perfectly to fit my face.

I saw myself in the warehouse through a mirror… I saw myself with the crown on, fire arching to the sky. I blinked because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I saw my eyes in the mirror and the flames plumed around me. The fire and I perfect partners in a dance. We wear the flames always, whether they are visible to the human eye or not, they are part of our history.

This Friday on the Autumn Equinox, we perform this ritual for the very first time. We will also be performing it on Saturday. This is more than just a show, my Friends. This is a celebration of life itself.

This will be the weekend when the Phoenixes rise.

This Friday and Saturday.

Come be a part of a gorgeous Autumn spell with us on a day of equal sun light and moon light.

We will be waiting for you…

Fire. Ritual. Seduction.

The countdown begins…..

Tell the others.

La Luna and The Mysteries of Life

Veronica Varlow — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 00:52:30 +0000

The moon is a milky crescent cradle hanging over the sky tonight.
I was driving on my way back to our temporary home a few hours ago, but found myself hypnotized by a perfect moon. I was enchanted by her glow in the sky, and how she seemed to find her way in front of the road I was traveling no matter how many times the road would bend.
I was thinking about our human experience here. I was thinking about this weekend that started with the VKA Meetup and ended on Monday with my Faerie Family coming to the mountains. I was thinking about our experiences together and all the journeys that have led us to finding each other. I was thinking about connection.
And then, quite suddenly, I found myself steering the car up the mountain driveway of my home that burned down.
The roads were curved like the lines on my palm. The moon carved the way on the path back home.
I put the high beams on and stood in the field of grass where the Enchanted Cottage once stood. My feet followed the stone path that used to connect to the front porch with the rocking chairs on it that Burke and I painted by hand for our anniversary. The stones have been moved by the old front staircase, and I couldn’t find where my door would have been…..so I just stood there in the dark and stared.
I thought about how quiet it was. I thought about how a year ago, I might be all curled up sleeping in bed in my house, cozy and warm. I wish I could go to her, and whisper in her ear and tell her what would happen, warn her, so she could gather her precious things, her history- but then decide that it is best to let her sleep and enjoy the bliss of not knowing. Then I wonder about the future. I wonder what our new home will end up looking like, I wonder how long it will take to build, I wonder what will happen. I write these words and then I think….one day, years from now I will look back at this journal entry and the Future Me will know these answers. And then I wish she would whisper in my ear now…
But she isn’t going to. And it’s the present and the future is unwritten.
It’s July 5, 2011 and I’m alone with the moon. I’m standing under the stars, looking up at the trees that I have looked up at for six years of my life. I’m standing on an empty lot covered with burned pieces of my old belongings, covered with dirt, covered with grass, covered with sky.
I feel the mosquitoes on my body. I don’t move to kill them. I imagine the raised bumps of their bites on my skin will spell out the answer to all of this in braille.

NYC PRIDE!

Veronica Varlow — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 10:54:51 +0000

On June 24th, in NYC, an amendment was passed that allows all people to marry in NYC. We are celebrating equality.
Today, I’ve had five people say to me that they wish they could march in the NYC Pride Parade, but they aren’t gay.
People, do you think the US Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s had only African American people? No. It was all races that supported rights for ALL.
If you believe in equality and the right for all people to love who they want and if you believe people shouldn’t be bullied, shamed or belittled because of their sexual orientation – MARCH!
Meet you under the Arch in Washington Square Park in New York City at Noon today to support and march.
The Revolution of Love is NOW.
<3

True Love is Real.

Veronica Varlow — Fri, 24 Jun 2011 16:47:53 +0000

I married this man five years ago today. Best. Decision. Ever.

I Feel Happy Of Myself

Veronica Varlow — Sat, 18 Jun 2011 22:26:15 +0000

The sun was shining.
The birds were singing.
And I was there in the middle of the garden getting slammed in the face over and over by my practice sock poi while trying to learn an advanced move.
It was starting to get frustrating.
That’s the thing about learning something new….you just have to let go and let yourself be really really bad at it. And that’s hard to do. Especially when your face is taking a beating from a ball of rice stuffed in a sock.
An hour after this, something beautiful happened. The poi found their way on their own path and not in my face. The movement started to flow and I was doing it. I was spinning both poi in different directions with ONE HAND! I was on top of the world. I conquered!!!!!
And then I just saw this video my friend, Zina had posted of a kid just learning how to ride his bike. And I feel like I just had that same rush of learning something new after overcoming the challenge of it.
I feel happy of myself, too.
Today, I’m working on a whole new routine with lots of new moves that I will be performing at Coney Island on Thursday at Hotsy Totsy’s Burlesque on the Beach.
I know that before Thursday, I will probably have to listen to this kid’s words of wisdom on repeat:
“Everybody I know you can believe in yourself!
If you believe in yourself, you can ride a bike (or spin hard poi moves). IF you don’t, you just keep practicing. You will get the hang of it – I KNOW IT!”
Thumbs up everybody for ROCK AND ROLL!
Now back to my poi practice…..

Time Travel

Veronica Varlow — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 23:34:30 +0000

I took this photo on Sunday morning at 8:15am, inside the Church of the Traveling Gypsies, aka Grand Central, NYC.
The glow of the pure opal faces of the center clock beckoned to me. That pulpit of numbers and time and history lured me closer as morning light streaked through the windows. I thought of how many times I’ve seen this iconic image in films, in pictures, in magazines. Then I thought, “I am here. This is right now. This is real life. I am here.”
So I captured it to share with you.
I love the idea of train stations. I love the idea of their doors and gates, schedules and train tracks carving out destiny.
With every door, a destination.
One only needs to walk up to that counter, choose which way and buy a ticket.
“I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.” – William Ernest Henley
So, my fellow travelers….gypsies of this world, which way will you choose? What destinations are beckoning on this adventure called life?
Step up to the ticket booth and say….
yes.

Phoenix Rising

Veronica Varlow — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 13:57:26 +0000

This Memorial Day weekend…when I got my wings again. I am the phoenix.
My life for the past month has revolved around the fire. And though I try not to talk about it in conversation in my regular life, it is in the undercurrent of every single thing that I do.
I’ve been writing in my book journal much more than usual. My words fill page after page. There’s been much to think about, to churn over, to question.
I noticed that in the few journal pages that were saved from the fire, that some pen ink resisted the flames more than others.
I wondered about “flame resistant” ink…
I imagined my words in all of those journals from all of those years carefully falling from their burning pages and landing on the floor. I imagined the winding cursive of my hand decorating the ashes. I imagined walking around gathering up my words into pretty pails. I imagined written words rising up from all of the burned journals…finding their way back to me. I imagined weaving them back into the folds of a new page.
But there is no such thing as flame-resistant ink.
Most of those words are gone into the ether. They have ascended, if you will.
A friend was talking to me about all the of the wishes and dreams that Burke and I wrote that were hidden in the walls of our Enchanted Cottage. She said that she was taught to write her wishes and burn them so that the smoke would reach the heavens and the angels could hear. So all of those wishes and dreams written in my walls, all of those dreams and thoughts in most of my journals, have been released in the smoke drifting to the sky to be heard by the spirits who watch over us.
A neighbor who ran into us on the street, told us that the flames and smoke reached high into the sky. I tried not to cry when I heard this. I tried to shift my mind to those billows of smoke holding all of our wishes, our history and our dreams – transforming themselves from something physical to something you can no longer hold….but in this alchemy…they are now translated into the language of angels.
When it hurts, I try to imagine the curling smoke that rose to the sky transform into my curling cursive. Smoke twisting to form words. Wishes. Dreams. The tangible memories of my ancestors, of our childhoods, of our history.
I have to believe that they are wishes come true on the other side of all of this.
And then I was hit with another question in my mind… “Would I sacrifice the physical history of my past to have the dreams of my future come true?”
And in that case, no matter how deep the pain has been in this, I would have to say yes. I would say yes to the dreams of the future.
This was our sacrifice.
And those journals and things I held dear, although they are gone, I still lived those days. I still have those words inside of me. All of those beautiful experiences were swallowed by my soul. They are part of me. They are in the way I walk, they are in the way I hold myself, they are in the way I have exchanges with others. Nothing can take that away.
When I talked to Burke about all of these thoughts, he remembered a question from a game he used to play with his family. The question was, “If you could live in pure paradise for a year, having everything you ever wanted, but after the year was over, you would have no memory of it – would you still do it?”
Burke had answered, “Is all we are only of value if we can remember it?”
That struck me.
I would say yes to the year in paradise with no memory of it. I don’t think I would have said yes to that question before the fire. But the fire has been a teacher, it’s changing my view. I would say yes to that year in paradise with no memory now, because even if I couldn’t remember it – I feel like it would affect my spirit. That perhaps I’d walk more confidently after the experience. That somewhere I would know what true overall abundance was even if my brain didn’t remember having it. It would be carried in my body and my being.
There are things we just know that are unexplainable. There are things, these messages and memory in our bodies that venture beyond what our brains can retain.
The exact moment that I was writing this in my book journal, my email made a “bing” noise and there was an email from my Mom. She knows how connected I was to all of the family things that were lost in the fire. I was the record keeper for our family, I was the one who held most of the tangible history. She sent this quote from Thich Nhat Hanh to ease my heart, “If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people.”
I carry the imprints of my life on my soul and I carry my ancestors there.
The things I learned, the adventures I had, the love I shared, the awe I have felt, the friendships I have experienced CAN NEVER BE LOST.
And to a girl who has lost most of her physical history to the flames – that realization meant everything to me.
There is a new journey ahead.
There is a new path taking form.
And we are venturing onward to the dreams that await us.

Volunteer CONTEST

Veronica Varlow — Sun, 29 May 2011 13:18:32 +0000

I’d give my blood for you… (my Red Cross blood donation picture that kicked off the Vampy Volunteers contest last year).
Thank you for all the comments and emails that I received from you regarding my last entry, “Can a Simple Smile Change the Course of History?”. It’s so odd, sometimes I have feelings so strong that I think I can’t turn my emotions into the proper words to express myself. I had actually considered not posting that entry – because I felt like it didn’t do my feelings justice. I felt like no matter how much I wrote, I couldn’t thank all of you enough. I felt like I couldn’t express how deeply that you’ve affected my life. I hope you know what a superhero you are. Thank you for all of your positive comments regarding that entry. Thank you for all of your support and a huge thank you to the all of you that participated in the heart photo project (posted in the Simple Smile entry) that Nymphi started in South America and that reached the world. <3 <3 <3
I like sharing with you. And I like hearing from you all over the globe. I like seeing your pictures, hearing your stories and your dreams. Those wishes and dreams are safe with me. And I know mine are safe with you. That's why I post my heart on these pages.....
Regarding my "Smile" journal entry, my dear gypsy sister Ahnika Delirium wrote, "This love & support, person to person, on a deep level, that yer talking about, IS the new Revolution. A smile on the street is the new revolution."
A smile on the street is the new revolution.
I read that over twice. I know that to be true.
We all have the ability to transform and shape the course of history with kindness, with our art, and with our truth.
Last year, at my birthday, we did a Vampy Volunteers contest on Veronica’s Kissing Army Forum and many people volunteered and helped affect others lives. It was beautiful and I’m bringin’ it back. Everyone who volunteers, posts pictures of their experience and shares their story on the forum to inspire others – gets a limited edition “Who Wants to Kiss Me?” sticker mailed from me to you. Every single person. The top three most inspiring stories will be voted on and I will make you a special magic necklace! Here is the thread link to check it out! Clicky!
Let’s start the Revolution.
It’s time.

Can a simple smile change the course of history?

Veronica Varlow — Wed, 25 May 2011 10:00:31 +0000

I woke up feeling thankful this morning. I woke up feeling connected. Even if we have never spoken, even if we may never meet, I had this sense of friendship out there in the world. There are many people whose blogs I read, whose art I appreciate, whose songs I listen to, whose books I read, that I will never get a chance to speak to. But they still have affected me…changed some part of my human story with beauty that they had to share.
So whether we ever speak, or meet, or write…if you are reading this – if your eyes cross these words, this is dedicated to you.
I have always loved doing volunteer work. When I was in high school, my friend Cynthia and I volunteered after school at the United Way. I liked doing it because I knew that I was helping on some level, but I really just put envelopes together for their mail outs and stuff like that. It didn’t seem that spectacular. But we still went, every week and did a bunch of little tasks. I didn’t feel like I was changing the course of history or anything.
When I graduated, my brother Ryan and I put together an all-day concert to benefit Toys for Tots. We raised $1,700 which was a big deal I thought. I will never forget my brother and I having two empty shopping carts and racing up and down the aisles of Toys R Us and filling those baskets with toys from the wish lists of needy kids. That felt awesome. It is one of the things I’m most proud of doing…but still, I didn’t feel like I changed the course of history or anything. I’ve volunteered at animal shelters, I’ve donated blood a billion times, I’ve donated a ton of stuff to Goodwills all over, I’ve performed in a bunch of benefits – and all this is because I had fun and enjoyed it and it felt good. But never did I feel like I was really making a difference, or really changing that much.
Then, our home burned down to the ground. And for the first time in my life, I’m on the receiving end of charity. And it’s humbling and mind-blowing and awe-inspiring. People have written amazing letters of support from all over the world. People have shared their stories with me about their fires/their floods/their devastations and let me know I’m not alone. People have donated $1. People have donated $200. People have left messages on Twitter, Facebook and the forum. People have written wanting to help build the house. People have given me beloved things of theirs to make up for the beloved things I lost. People have left messages sobbing crying over the news on my phone. People have given me hugs and not asked me how I am because they already know. People have given me hugs and asked me how I am because they want to make sure I’m okay and have someone to talk to. People across the world put together pictures of themselves making a heart with their hands and then put those things all together to let me know there’s love out there and I’m not alone. People have given me handmade journals to replace the ones I’ve lost. People have reached out.
Can a simple smile to someone else change the course of history?
I have read stories where a person is about to kill themselves and someone random on the street smiles at them and it makes them feel like they are not alone anymore and it changes the course of history. I believe it.
You are all of my great teachers. And I hope you will understand the sheer capacity of what you reaching out to me has done. I hope you can understand the power you have had to radically affect my life for the better in a time when I needed it. These words are not enough. These words don’t express what I want to say to you. I wish you could just feel the emotions going through my body as I type these words. I wish you could tap into all that I’m feeling – the joy, the appreciation, the gratefulness, the lightness that takes over me in all of this. I am feeling this way because YOU affected me and changed my course of history. History has been molded by your careful, loving hands.
I had a two hour conversation with Emilie recently where we talked about all that you have done. “They are a true army,” she said. “An army of action.”
Yes.
Last year, for my birthday, we held a Vampy Volunteers contest on the Veronica’s Kissing Army Forum.. And this year – it means even more to me. Because I now know what being on the other side of the fence is. I will be announcing the details on the forum soon. I hope you can take part in this, too.
We are all in this together.
Thank you for being you. Thank you for being people of ACTION.
Sending a gypsy love beam straight for your heart….. SOAK IT UP! Then go out there and have an awesome day in this world, wherever you are….my beloved traveling companions.
I am honored to walk beside you.

Thank you

Veronica Varlow — Sat, 14 May 2011 17:51:31 +0000

She walked through the flames and survived…me as a little gypsy girl with a golden turban….

We have not had internet in a week – we have been digging through ashes, mourning physical losses of pieces of memory and trying to pick ourselves up to see the sunshine once again….
As I write this – in a very public coffeehouse, I find myself fighting back tears… I cannot even believe what I just read…..
The campaign that Catherine and Ashley of the VKA started, has almost, as of this writing, raised $5,000 to help rebuild our house. Read Catherine’s journal entry here.
I am speechless. I am overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude and love. In this difficult, roller coaster of a week, I truly feel like you are here with me. That we are not alone. I am just utterly stunned out the outpouring. I know that many of us don’t have that much money – and so many of you have chipped in to make this happen. I cannot even express how grateful Burke and I are to have you in our lives.
We are making a beautiful scroll with the name of every single person that has donated. This scroll will be built into the wall of our new home. Your names will be honored and live on as part of the love that will restore our beloved home from the ashes. When we have lost so much, we move forward with strength knowing our enchanted cottage will rise up once again on a foundation of love from all of you….
Thank you to those of you who have donated, thank you to those of you who have written words of support. Thank you for having my back. I will never be able to tell you in mere words how much your love has touched us and affected us. You have lifted both Burke and I up in our darkest days…we have all walked through the fire together. We are not alone. Thank you for caring for us and being there with us.
I wanted to share with all of you a miracle that was born from the ashes…
On April 28th, the day before my birthday, several of us spent hours in the rubble digging for anything we could find. There was nothing to find and exhausted, we were leaving. The sun came out as we were all walking the hill down to our driveway, when I felt like I had to be with the house alone.
I excused myself and went up alone. I stood with the house for the first time by myself. I wanted to do something…I wanted to write a letter of gratitude for all of those good times and bury it in the ash, I wanted to hold onto what remained of my bedroom wall and hug the fragile blackened beams of the structure. I saw a ladybug crawl on the floor of where our magic room used to be and felt better. And I closed my eyes and a song came out of my mouth.
I was shocked at the voice that came out of my body – a deep, rumbling, earth shaking voice to sing the last lullaby to my beloved home. My hands were on my heart as I sang, and I could feel my breath shake with emotion. I sang full out from my soul to my home. I sang with love. I sang for hope. I sang for some kind of peace in all of this chaos.
When I opened my eyes….the first thing I saw was a charred box that had been moved by all the digging. I recognized the paint on the side and identified it as one of the trunks that held my family photos! I ran over to it and reached in. The top of the wooden box was completely burned off and the tops of all the photos in sleeves had been burned. I grabbed the first envelope of photos and they were all stuck together and burned. Destroyed.
For a moment, I thought – Look….do you really want to deal with this 7 hours before your birthday? Do you really want to see all these charred memories?
But in all of this…. I have a hopeful heart. I always think the best can come out of situations, and I dove into the second envelope. I peeled one clump back and there was an almost perfect picture of a group of our friends from when I first met Burke. Zina Brown. James Vogel. Didge Dave. Burke and I – newly dating. All smiling at the camera. Intact.
I frantically pulled through the rest of the photos, separating them one by one carefully…picture after picture of my beloved dog friend Greta who passed away years ago, pictures of my parents when they were 20, pictures of Burke and I on our first road trip together and our first anniversary…. one picture after another, I laid out before me on the grass. They were wet from being outside for a full week with no shelter, wet from fire hoses, and burned by fire….but the majority of them in the box survived.
The sun was now shining down….nice and warm…on me and all my picture memories. Shining down on all those good times and good people and friends.
And for the first time since the fire took our home, happy tears ran down my face…. how could this be possible? This box was right next to the wall where they thought the electrical fire started. It was a wooden box filled with flammable photos. In a fire so hot it burned our entire house down to the ground…. how was it possible that this wooden box of photos survived mostly intact?
The sun beat down as I felt some cardboard at the back of the box… some old cards with the fronts almost melted off because of the heat. And the first one I opened, with words completely visible said: “Happy Birthday! We love you so much. Grandma and Grandpa”
A card for my birthday from my Grandparents who passed on when I was 12 years old.
Six hours before my birthday.
A birthday present from the spirits of my beloved Grandparents… a full box of memory photos saved miraculously from the fire as their gift to me.
And in that field…I remembered what I had almost forgotten in the sadness….
Magic is real.
I am looked after by the spirits of my ancestors.
I am looked after by the people who love me.
I am never alone.
We are all in this together.
….and this world is a beautiful place after all.
Thank you for being so kind to Burke and me. Please know what an extraordinary difference you have made in our lives.
May your lives be blessed with beauty and magic for the rest of your days….
Thank you for taking the time to read all of this.
Love,
Veronica
One of the photos we recovered, along with a letter I wrote to Burke on our wedding day…