Here i gOooo…

Creating things? I.t.s healing to me. It’s white and blackbird of me. It’s artistic, autistic, and BEautifully uniquely “me”. This is Card#One of Birdanity Deck#One titled “Take My Hand 🤚 & RUN 🏃‍♀️ 🏃 ♪( ´θ`)”

Secret? I made it when I was trying to figure out my heart conditioning. It’s when I was healing from the last heart break. It’s ARTfully weird?


“Take my hand 🤚 and run 🏃 🏃‍♀️”

<Ka!Ka!🦅 >

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The Beginning

This is it, my first book about my life. Right now, it fits into the palm of my hand and it reflect’s my image. There is only one version of that reflection, the original. “Me”.

Presently, I am the only one that feels this Birdanity book is worth it’s weight in gold. My weight, which is about 13? pounds of all that I am worth = nothing really (and priceless).

What i want to write about from every beginning is who I have been and how I got here. I seek to understand. I seek love, hate, education about love and compassion to feel.

What I don’t know about is the future for you. But, I still want to believe that I am the creator of my future. In this vein, I have decided to write a little differently than I ever have before.

This book continues then with the end in mind. I want to write about who I will meet (again), the relationship(s) I will have, and even the way I want to die. I want to imagine a different life than I have ever known before, believing a faith that I feel for the images in my head. I want to believe in big ways, larger than a tiny mustard seed.

With that, let’s just flip to the back of this Birdanity book and write the last few chapters. Perhaps even the last entry of this book because who knows if I will have time for more chapters or even whether I will wake up tomorrow.

Before I tell you that story though, I am going to sit in quiet for a time and dream about a future where I’m pretty certain you will be there and we will (all) be love(d) in The End.


The End

After I saw _______, I felt healed. All that came before him in that legacy book was lost in my memory banks. Only drawing from those stories when I need to tap into my savings account, withdrawals are rare though and encouraged.

Before we met, I was afraid that he didn’t really exist and because for 37 years I searched for someone just like him. State to state, name after name, I tried a lot of stories to find the right size of human for me.

He was the one who fit my constellation and we loved each other as the sun contrasts the moon. The moment we locked eyes, he took the dominant role in our vibrant connection and I played the supporting one. He came over, he hugged me, he asked for my new # and he even wanted to act like children. Children like Us.

He was beautiful on the inside and out, so gorgeous that I worry I dreamed him up and I will wake up to find he is missing again. But after all our years together and creating lovely weirdos just like us, he still wakes up next to me as happy as he ever was. I feel that happy too, loving this hu/man who loves me as he does.

I knew I was making the right decision when I said “yes” after he asked me that pop question. There was no question in my mind that our lives would last a lifetime of commitments. We worked hard to lovingly die together as two happy “soulmates” should. *Blech*

He still laughs at how emotional and dramatic I can become, and he makes me laugh too. He seems to know the right thing to say to calm me down and help me find the “right” way of letting go of that old drama we share.

It’s incredible to think of who I have become with him. Committed to exercise of all the senses, I am clean and balanced. Puffing my peace pipe and pouring my time each day into the love I feel for family and “work” in this universal life.

“A small lucky package is on it’s way to see you soon,” says our fortune, and why not agree? Let the luck keep on coming, spreading through our bodies and oozing into the people we love. Namely partners, family and friends.

It’s almost the end of this love life as we know it, when and where we often forget our own number, or even how to write down memories of all those days when I held judgment for who I was from The Beginning.

from Beginning_to_End


~Stephan/ie Bird

~Steph/an Bird

Carlos?…calling all Carlos!


There’s always a Carol…

Or is it Carlos? I’m not truly sure that it matters, these names, handles and labels, but there is always a Carlos coming for me. There has to be…

I manifested Carlos. Meeting him yesterday in “my” park, walking up to his table and his guitar, that was no accident. We were destined to meet, Carlos and I.

But let’s not get ahead of Carlos, throwing myself into “a future” story with anyone is silly. He is “Jesus” and so am I. Two Jesus’ lifestyles is probably too many for that surfer’s paradise that he lives in by the park.

Carlos? or Carol? or whatever his name was? Eh, I don’t even know, and that’s all I know for sure today. Today being the day after I met Carlos and he played his guitar with me in the park, I sang a bit in the background, we talked about life and music, then we parted ways like two humans could.

We partied with vibrations, we parted with feet, and then we flew. I may never see that Bird again and that’s OK……..

These joyS of a gypsy life…

with Carlos?


~”Steph Bird”




This writing thing, this dreaming of being a writer thing, it all started in Big Sur (several years ago). I need to be back there again. Today, I feel like I need to be in a beautiful place again. There is something special to me there and I need something special.

About me? I don’t want to write this art anymore either, these stories about me and these stories about my life’s work. I don’t even want to express my personal life. I want to let go of writing for a little while and just go away to write somewhere about wandering around in nature. That’s what I need – nature – feeling natural around a community of natural people.

There is something wrong with you…

Can You hear me?

Do you read me?

Do You copy?

My friend “E” tells me that she things there is a major energy shift and because she was sick all last night too. After being so ill for such a long time… I told her it was a dream to leave too. To run, I need an adventure for a while, and to disconnect from the lights and the sounds and the…to be with new friends or maybe just one old one that i haven’t seen for a while.

Maybe I need to be like Jesus for a while with Forty days of “my life on the road” or “out in the wilderness” would be nice too. Being a young writer, trying to take off. Where do I go?

When Birdanity is where I took off already.

Do you see “me” here?

Birdanity is my Book of Life. It’s also a complete and accurate historical record of this life as One wo/man they named,

~Stephanie Bird~

p.s. my head hurts will all these words, brain synapses and connections that never existed before. It’s a nightmare of wires up there, but it’s me (steph bird, your friend?


and… why?

is that?)