Asshatin'

No knitting occurred at all this weekend. No A/C in my apartment. 80 degrees in January. I f*cking hate Florida. I'm ready to move to Canada now.

So I changed one or two things here. I like my papasan, but it doesn't really describe me. However, I've had a thing about lighthouses for some time now, so changing the whole title/URL to accommodate the design layout seemed like a neat idea.

Then there's my name. I'm a witch, and some witches choose to take pagan names. I chose one name when I initiated myself, but it didn't feel enough like me, didn't say enough about who I am. Truthfully, my first name (Brynja Beryl Akwesasne) was partly a link to my past; Akwesasne is Mohican for "land where the partridge drum." It was a reminder for me of a childhood home, Above All. We'd hear this basketball sound, and it wasn't Cyril; it was the partridge taking off in the woods. And while that place has been idealized in my head as a good memory, I wasn't comfortable having so much of my past in a name representing my present and future. So I changed it. Still love the name Brynja though...

I am Ember Grace Madrone. Ember because I love the idea of fire still strong enough to stay alive in ashes. Grace in honor of my Nanie; it's her maiden name. She's 94½. Madrone's reason is twofold. She's the heroine in one of my favorite books: Starhawk's The Fifth Sacred Thing. And I love the idea of a tree encompasses more than one type/species. The Pacific Madrone is what's known as a broad-leaf evergreen tree, and when I read up on it, I'd never heard of such a thing—that a tree can be deciduous and coniferous at the same time (well, sort of). I like the multifacetedness of it, like to think it describes me in a way, with my wackiness and my lithium deficiency, and my cravings for knowledge.

I'm a solitary, so the ole name thing doesn't mean much outside of my head. I'm still plain old Melanie J. to the Jax crowd. But blogging allows you to let people in without truly letting them in, if you know what I mean. It's as personal as a journal entry, but as anonymous as you want it to be too. So since there was no knitting this weekend, I give you a little piece of me.