Aspen Mirabal – Special Guest This Week/ LOVE/ LIFE.

My Aspen is in South America, as most of you know; She is my hero, a hero of my making, forged from raw earth, trails pounded by deer, prayers wrapped in corn husk, out of fear that is thrown away with every inch of soil removed to bury the dead, hammered out with yards of disappointment into a golden Goddess, and her beauty makes longed-hair-cloud-maker-Kachinas jealous that she is not one of them.

Don’t mess with a woman that hummingbirds follow and get their hearts broken wondering, wishing why, why, why, she isn’t a flower,
I have seen fellows spend their last dime to hold on to her for one more moment as she walks away into the corners of another heart.

Per our last conversation, I can feel and hear her transformations, massive bounds and leaps.

Grande metamorphosis that can easily escape you like water trying to grasp on to them.

Much like me at that age, I was in love with love and in love with my simple life; I still am pretty hopeless when the wild is in full-bloom in the spring time after a long winter. Everything is a potential moment of heart interaction, from the sunset-landscape in the sea of sage, to the morning dew, that is how life should be.

Aspen has traveled seen things that I probably will never touch and for sure what 95% of the pueblo people will never ever get to see…

There is one life and one love. If you don’t kick it first in the ass and tame it down, it is obliged to kick you in your pathetic ass.

Love only loves what it loves – itself. You must show up to the disappointments and the bad taste you get when the acids of failure fall upon us. In time, as years go by with shiny scars, you realize that love has always carried you through all the unforgiving miles of a fiery  hell road without shoes.

I don’t believe in Karma. I don’t believe in forgiveness of the soul. We are human. We will hurt and will get hurt and suffer on our knees. Only then can we learn what life and love is about, and those entities don’t give a shit who you are as long as you show up with baggage to let go. That is how the heart finds emancipation.

You can never ask enough. When it comes to love and life, it will lift you to the heavens and it will ask you to crawl scarring your arms with hot-cigarette lighters and needles, dying.

I am in love now with life and life is a brutal partner although with love, life seems like a breeze into eternity. MIRABAL

Photo on 3-18-14 at 4.24 PM #2
Deer Basket Flower


The sun is beautiful and fierce. My heart and mind are beautiful and fierce. I find comfort in the moon; I sing to the moon. I see my sisters’ twinkling eyes in the stars, I hear their giggles and sighs coming from the mountains. Walking on the small trail, next to tall stalks of ripened corn and wilted tassels, I feel safe and comforted. Their long, green arms reach out to my heart; do not worry they tell me, just keep walking.

I still hear the buzzing of insects, which I always mistake for a group of noisy pueblo women, laughing and gossiping. I miss them, I miss my family, and I miss New Mexican food. I miss the smell of the Pueblo during spring; including the gross-smelling-tiny purple flowers that cover the dry, dormant fields. I am thankful that most houses are made with adobe, because when it rains, I can close my eyes, and pretend that I am home, smelling the damp adobe structures becoming, darkend by rain.

In her eyes, with her eyes.

I tie up my hair in a paw-stee, put my turquoise earrings on, and notice how the beautiful, brown shades of my skin match ever so perfectly. I attract attention, people know I am of an indigenous culture, but have no clue where I am from. The majority of people think I am Peruvian, some think I look Argentinean. I never brag, but if I do, I reveal my true identity as I sing a Taos Pueblo round dance sung under the full moon, or as I get down low, hands in the chocolate soil, and work like a Pueblo woman. ASPEN MIRABAL

13 thoughts on “Aspen Mirabal – Special Guest This Week/ LOVE/ LIFE.”

  1. Robert and Aspen..
    I am in love with life and life is a brutal partner
    although with love life seems like a breeze into eternity.
    The sun is beautiful and fierce.
    My heart and mind are beautiful and fierce.

    This morning as I read both of your writings ..I was so tears fell from my eyes and a smile came to my face.I am left with out words..So much Love and Beauty you both have with in your Spirits for each other….Mind and Hearts entwined …

  2. What a beautiful relationship the two of you have, if more people honored their children and children honored their parents like you do, the world would be a better place!
    Many blessings going out your way Aspen Dawn, such a beautiful name, for an equally beautiful young lady! You are truly your fathers daughter!
    Songs and dance to you both!

  3. Robert and Aspen,
    What a beautiful father/daughter relationship you share. Loveliness to behold and cherish.
    Robert and Aspen,

    Two hearts far apart, but so close in spirit!

    Love in its many forms, my favorite the ones that lead me to my best self, to honoring my true spirit and the spirit of others. Often you wouldn’t think of it as love, but it is love in its true form. A cool rain on my favorite hiking trail, the smell of earth and the golden red leaves crunching under my bare feet. Hours spent swimming in the stream until my skin wrinkles and resembles that of a new born babies. Lost on twisting turning roads, until the smell of fresh molten chocolate intoxicates my senses. Being where I am, simply…loving life as it is.
    I love the way you both share who you are with all of us!
    Thank you!
    May your adventures lead you to your most beautiful you!

  4. Aspen,
    SKILLS! Napoleon Dynamite said it nicely. Girls love skills. In an article about Miss Navajo Nation I read, the fact that the Beauty contestants had to have practical skills – like butchering, skinning, and tanning floored me. What a different contest Miss USA would be.
    Imagine that!
    That the Peoples of the Corn have always remembered how to live with the Earth.
    That you know the strong Pueblo Ways.
    (Sigh of relief).
    How many have forgotten.
    How many have forgotten.
    Here’s to the scent of Rain on adobe walls,
    Ancestral ways, Mother ways, Goddess ways, All Ways, Always.

  5. Robert, and Aspen thank you for the breathtaking expression of place,

    time, and self, that you have shared with us.

    You each have a special gift of presence in your writing, as if there is

    no separation between your current sense of aliveness and the words

    you write leap to the readers mind and heart.

    “Here’s to the scent of Rain on adobe walls….”

    Aspen, thank you for being the guest writer on your fathers blog.

    You have strong poetry in your soul!


  6. Well this is just beautiful. How proud you must be. This once little girl who I watched dance with her father. Her writing flows from her soul. You have taught her well.

  7. You certainly have a right to be proud. She was blessed to grow up with you as a father and mentor. She’s still very young though. Keep a close eye. Spoken as the mother of an equally beautiful and smart daughter. 😉 I look forward to seeing you again at NRF

  8. Robert an Aspen , such beautiful love between a father an child . I wish my father an I had been as close as you r never ever lose it !! Your both r so very lucky !! Love, hugs and many blessings to you both !!

  9. Just this last Sunday I was going through some papers and I ran across a quick note my father wrote to me when I was 18 years old. It was written on a piece of scrap paper and it began “Small Princess” … even now, 40 years later I held it close to my heart and whispered “I love you”.

  10. Dear Robert and Aspen,
    You both left me speechless.
    Thank you for breathtaking love.
    Blessings from Croatia <3 <3

  11. Beautiful thoughts from both of you, beautiful words woven by you two.
    An ode to life and love… Someone mentions skills in their comment, and apart from the earth wisdom skills, one special daughter has definitely inherited her father’s skill of the quill, the power of storytelling, and the beauty of poetry.
    Somehow, what appears in this video: the dream-like images, the song of destiny and a walk into adulthood, seem to fit in this blog about a young woman who makes hummingbirds’ hearts melt!
    Aspen’s soul once chose to fully embrace her destiny, popping into her father’s life as the first of many other beautiful gifts! What a blessing, what a beautiful journey so far, a promise of other beautiful days on your adventures.
    The daughter of an artist you are, Aspen, and an artist you are too.
    Wishing you a wonderful life journey!

  12. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful blog with us about your beautiful Aspen! She is growing up to be a remarkable person.

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