Maggie Scratch in Barcelona Tonight with an Actor and an Agitator




Sometimes I feel like I could ride the subways all night and if it weren’t for the fact that I wanted to come home and post this blog I might still be riding. In fact, sometimes I feel like I could walk down all the little side streets in the city at Christmas and not come home and blog, but not tonight. Tonight is different. It started out here. I came to see Caspar do The Clock. As Robert said, “The clock has been in every time zone!” It’s a world famous act, it strikes a chord, rings a bell, especially at Christmas.

Plaza Catalunyaclock

And the actor,  Caspar.

casp and rob


Since blogs are sometimes like life and as life can be quite unpredictable and not turn out the way we imagine it will—this is what happened. I ended up in a bar called El Almiral in el Raval on a street called Joaquim Costa, with Robert Long, talking about things like “The Meaning of My Communication is the Response I Get.” Now, maybe this doesn’t mean much to you, at least you might think it doesn’t relate to your life, but it does. The flip side of that statement is, “What can I do in order to get the other person to understand me?” And Robert suggests: draw a picture. Why not? If words don’t work… “It’s your responsibility to get the other person to understand you.” I think he’s right! I mean, is he psychic—or what? Is he a fly on the wall in my life? How did he know? He knows because he works with this stuff, he calls them Communication Models. God, did we talk! How we ever got on the subject of the film The Graduate, I’ll never know, but that’s how I arrived at the word, Agitator. If you ever see The Graduate or if you’re vintage and you remember that film, you’ll recognize the word: AGITATOR. It’s a great word, it means someone who stirs things up. Robert is that someone. Do you want the Magic Carpet? Ritual with Meaning? A turning point? A life change? A new direction? Well being? Flexibility? Creativity? Psycho-Magic? Or… to sum it up in Robert’s words, how about this: “Don’t eat the menu! Eat the meal!”


Robert Long


Maggie Scratch in Barcelona Last Night with the Singer-Songwriter-Stuff




Here we were, most of us, hanging around the bar, trying to get close to where the music was, in this snug little jammin-crammin-hole-in-the-wall-of-a very cool place. Love is in the air here. It’s warm. It’s friendly. It’s family too. There’s something about this bar that makes me feel good, and I wasn’t the only one. I was leaning against a doorway post close up to the sound and next to me was a couple who were hoppin and boppin and smiling too. We couldn’t stand still, some people were sitting but they were shakin and movin in a happiness groove. Happy music, it made us all glad. We were all in it together listening to the songs, to the chords, to the guys, and loving it all. These dudes were sweating, they didn’t even take a break. They played their hearts out, they gave us what we needed, a little dancing, a little fun, sweet words to swallow down. Strings spanking the walls, tickling our ears, scratching our bodies, I hooted and cheered! Folksy, original, artsy and real. A bit of Irish-Celtish “Dirty old town”… I sang! Everyone sang! Those lines we all know!

Dirty old town, dirty old town…

 I couldn’t stand still, not for a minute, not last night.

The band

Nelson Poblete, Joe Lewis, Ricky Araiza

Joe and Nelson

Go For It

Happy Birthday Joe

Maggie Scratch in Barcelona Today with the Goldfish


There is so much sun and blue sky these days that it’s scary. Where’s the rain? Where’s the water? I hear the polar bears are drowning, can’t cross the ice, it’s melting, it’s watery, there is no ice! There are plenty of photos of Frank Gehry’s Goldfish and many of them are better than mine, but this is the point: I took this. I was there, at the port, under the blue sky, feeling the warmth, soaking up the sea, forgetting about the tourists, and trying not to get upset at the abundance of police. I mean you don’t really see them if you’re not me. But I see them everywhere when I’m down at the port. They hang around on corners, in their cars, at the metro mouth, near the casino. Invisible? Impossible! In their bright yellow vests! Like Goldfish! As yellow! As obvious! As real! I was born ready for the boom to be lowered. I’m here, at the Puerto Olimpico where the Twin Towers are. I’m a sister. A friend.

I’m good.

I’m baaaaaaaaaadddd!!!

I’m a  non-dickhead soulmate to whoever I meet.

The Author of Maggie Scratch on Christmas Day



I ask for protection.

For light.

For a light heart guided by divine movement.

To believe

that protection


a natural source

flowing in and around me.

To bask in the radiant peace


the deepest places

of myself


the people around me.

To let go of fear,

of mistrust,

of negative thoughts.

To focus on love.

On gifts of the soul.




For protection is here,

in the fearless state,

surrendering to faith.


The Author of Maggie Scratch From Ibiza with Love

with geri


There was never anyone sweeter than Geri (who I used to love to call Geraldine!) She always had that smile, that warmth, that sweet sisterly kindness and caring. Visiting her there by Es Vedra was always a special day. Her finca, the kids, the fig tree, the food, the vino! Guitars and the singing, the views and the hot baking earth. No wonder I had to include her in Maggie Scratch. She was part of me then and she lives on in New York, on the pages of my book, and in my mind and my heart. In this excerpt, Maggie has come to New York planning to get impregnated by her old boyfriend, H.G., but, as luck would have it, nature intervened and boomeranged her plan.

The day I left New York, I was riding on a Seventh Avenue bus with Kiki. Across the aisle from us sat a young woman with a baby strapped to her chest. Kiki already has two children, but that day on the bus she told me she was fantasizing about becoming pregnant again. We were as carefree as two teenage girls on our way home from school. Kiki’s kids were somewhere else. We were cracking our gum and riding along in the indigo magic hour with the Christmas lights blinking. We stared at the baby in front of us.

“Not this trip,” I whispered.

Kiki is a cross between a Hungarian gypsy, a Tibetan Buddhist and a California flower child. She sat there and held my hand. “Maggie,” she sighed. “It just wasn’t in the stars.” Blood had spoiled the plan! Nanny Scratch would have said, “It wasn’t meant to be.” Maybe Kiki was right, maybe the blood saved me. H.G. was lonely. Loneliness could be in his genes. It wasn’t meant to be for Kiki either. By the time we got off the bus, she said she decided to get an IUD.

Maggie Scratch

Libro Azul Ibiza

The Author of Maggie Scratch in Barcelona Tonight





I ask for the power to be myself.

To see myself.

In facing life,

to have the courage to be myself.

To believe in myself,

in every cell of myself.

In every breath.

In every word.

In every nerve.

In what I feel and what I do.

I ask to play my part in the divine blueprint.

To unfold grace with patience and depth.

To wake into the innards of my mind

and see

my spirit.

It is time to have the courage

to accept myself.

To walk my path with aplomb.

With beauty and honesty of soul.

With confidence. With assurance.

With backbone and strength of character.

With divine energy and divine will.

With love and hope and mystery and faith.

With truth.

With rhythm and time.

With vision.

With no association,

no identification,

no memory.

Radiant in every cell.

A new sun.

Shining for the good of others


the good of myself.

Maggie Scratch in Barcelona at Turo Park for Christmas


tio vivo

Turo Park

I used to take my daughter to Turo Park when she was a little girl. It’s a beautiful park, dark green and earthy, with a big lily pond. There are benches everywhere, there are ping pong tables (love to smash!) and jungle gyms and sandboxes and there used to be a place to rollerskate where my father once took my daughter when she was wearing a pink parka about the same color as the Pink Panther on this merry-go-round. A lot has happened since that day. But the park hasn’t changed much except that I don’t see any goldfish in the pond anymore. These days are supposed to be happy and bright with the ’tis the season to be jolly’ written on our faces, but for some people this isn’t the case. There are people suffering, some are homeless, some are jobless, some are alone and some are sick. If you can come sit in Turo Park (and I’m not going to say ‘smell the flowers’ because there aren’t any right now) but if you can get here, smell the trees, the damp earth and the fresh leaves. You can smell the sky and the perfume on the women walking by. You can smell fresh air! You can smell yourself! You can see children playing and getting dirty and not caring at all. You can see the grass where the dogs run free. You can see the cypress Christmas trees and the velvety-feathery evergreens, oleanders, bay laurels and apartment buildings built for kings. It’s a circus! It’s happiness!  A paradise garden! And it’s free! If you’re sad you can get glad, come to Turo Park, look up at the sky—it’s a gift, a Christmas present, an unwrapped wish, a merry-go-round dream!

Turo Pond


Turo sky


Maggie Scratch in Barcelona Today with OMG! The Chiropractor!

Maybe you’ll be looking up at the sails on the ceiling if you visit Tobias or maybe your jaw will be resting quietly face down so you can breathe and you won’t know what hit you when the chiropractor comes over to your table to give you a piece of his mind. This is a lucky thing. If you are fortunate  enough to be lying on one of Dr. Goncharoff’s tables, the rest is coming bit by bit so, besides getting rid of the problem or the pain— be ready to change your life. Tobi told me today, “Everything is timing.” He meant, timing. This is not a word I can translate into Spanish, this is not a word to be tampered with. Timing is timing, you either have it or you don’t. You’re either ready or you’re not. Believe me, I’m skeptical. I’m not a believer. I don’t want to join movements or groups and I’m not fashionable or chic or in. I’m OUT. I’m just groping along. But I’m looking for something. I’m looking for a lot of things. I’m looking so hard I’m trying to see things I’ve never seen before. I didn’t know what hit me. All I know is…I’m different. OMG! It’s the chiropractor!

This is what I saw on my first visit to the chiropractor.

sailing into port.jpg One boat sailing in.


boat sailing in

And one boat sailing out.

On the Road with Maggie Scratch in Philly

Julie and Brandon

Wedding Prayer for Julie and Brandon

Thinking of you with love and I’ll be there with you in spirit, whispering this verse…

May I be a protector for those who need protection,

A leader for those who journey,

A boat, a bridge, a passage

For those desiring the further shore.

May the pain of every living creature

Be completely cleared away.

May I be the doctor and the medicine

And may I be the nurse

For all sick beings in the world

Until everyone is healed.

Just like space

And the great elements such as earth,

May I always support the life

Of all the boundless creatures.

And until they pass away from pain

May I also be the source of life

For all the realms of varied beings

That reach unto the ends of space.

Buddhist Poet Shantideva