Freespirit unleashed....

Yes, it's that time of the year to unleash my freespirit on the road to Sturgis. This year is going to be some real fun. I'm filming for TWO projects. More on this later.

It'll be great to see my "family" out there. The freespirit unleashed is able to make deep friendships with folks that share a common bond: an insatiable love for the open road and all things two or three wheeled. Yes, this deep bond makes for everlasting family-style friendships.

I will be blogging about my experience along the way, and making my own little Flip video film footage for your entertainment.

Tomorrow Jasmine Cain, Jeffro, and me are caravaning up to South Dakota. Jasmine hails from cattle ranch land up there. She and I are going to ride horses on her family property, too. I don't think I'll get much time for music fun because filming is going to be fairly demanding on my time, but no matter...it'll be great.

I'm going to bring along my CD with the latest single Ridelicious which is being mixed and mastered over the next two weeks. Finally! It will then be debuted to the world after the book is released which is now on August 18th, not the 15th. Maybe Jasmine will play Ridelicious as her call to stage song....wink!

The last month has been tough. I've been grieving my daddy Poppi so hard core...it's been really a deeply moving experience. I don't care how spiritual one is, how quiet and centered you can make your soul, when a parent who you adore departs in physical form and then you finally realize it, holy cow. Tsunami of emotions and tears. Poppi departed in April...and all this time I had been stoic, not wanting to experience that huge wave that lay waiting behind my eyeballs. A nice pastor said that as soon as I felt it was time, to let it go. My Godmother also encouraged me to feel everything, go through it and don't fear.

So it took all this time. I wasn't ready. Couldn't face it and wanted to deal with it by not dealing with it. And then finally, last week, BANG! In the middle of the book store, the freespirit was unleashed and I began sobbing my soul to the point of turning inside out. I fled the store came home and collapsed into a heap. This lasted a long long long time. Then I fueled the flames more by looking at photos, reading Poppi's writing, all those kinds of soulful things...dang! Then these feelings led to me missing my family on supersonic levels. I pine to go back home to New York to be with every family member, be with my everlasting NYC friends who always have a comforting word accompanied by good food and dessert. You see, to reach out to the family meant to deal with the deep-seated grief that lay waiting to be released. Too much!

Until now.

I feel more peaceful than before, indeed. But there's always another wave to wash over me hanging in the background. Especially whilst trying to plan some sort of wedding. No Poppi in physical form to walk me across the patio in my backyard. No Poppi to physically waltz me around the patio to some sort of daddy's girl country ballad. Yes, he'll be there in spirit.... sigh, okay. There's no date set as of this time. Maybe soon.

This ride to Sturgis will be good. Contemplative and fun. Wall Drug hilarity. Badlands intensity. Black Hills spirituality. The freespirit unleashed to BE.

Having finally faced the initial tsunami of grief that had slowly risen over the last few months was a measure of letting go so Poppi's freespirit can equally be unleashed.

Making Peace....a lesson in crocheting love.

Now, I am making peace with this odd moment in my life. This bazaar month of April.

Making way for some deep soul work and healing now while I grieve my daddy.

I have written a long, personal journal about this month of April. It is now a short story that I will publish maybe next year.

Last night I had a deep conversation with my beautiful Godmother, Yeshoda, who owns a spiritual growth school in Florida. It was a breakthrough. You see, she and I really do not know one another that well. But we do on a soulful level as it turns out.

Last night, I just freakin' sobbed my eyes out over the enormous emotions I was feeling at the loss of my daddy; I had to forgive myself for being so blind with desire, at the stupid loss of income and money and time spent trying to do something awesome for my beloved motorcycle life through a contest that just wasn't worth it; I just have to be and feel all the emotions that are all tangled up right now instead of being stoic and holding back.

Yes, so last night I screamed on the river bank here in Nashville into my hands I let flow all the loss, the craving for my daddi Poppi, the anger I feel at myself, all of it...but there is more...there is more to this grieving process than I could ever imagine.

Grieving is the art of everything you feel in your little painbody rushing at you at once, all tangled up in the spirit of the loved one who is watching from the otherside encouraging you to be a better person, sit tall in the saddle of your life, abandon all the things that tear you from your center, your truth. They become your guardians to encourage you to evolve, bust through the membrane of fear, falsehood, and away from those dark characters and situations that do nothing but tear you down and keep you from your evolution and betterment.

I'm on a mission now. Today, I'm working on my book edits which are just so overwhelming, but I'm approaching it slowly and purposefully, like an artist may correct a canvas. This book is so important to me even though it may be just a git-er-done product to the publisher. It's my works, a legacy that I leave behind for all the world to enjoy...through which to be inspired.

Today, I'm working on my music...because it's the place where I can be wild and free like on my motorcycle...jam out and be a rock star and dream.

Today, I'm back on my cleanse program, cleansing all the toxins out of my body and fasting. Releasing the toxins from bitter foods and bitter experience -- freeing my body to experience deep JOY once again through good vibrations.

Yes, my friends, I take you with me on the healing journey -- but you be on your journey too. I will be your example that you too can barrel through the adversity to evolve as a higher spirit and wilder human.

Love,
Sasha

Fast Little Girl Loves Two Wheels.

Fast. Big. Two Wheels. - See even as a youngster that's what I wanted. I had a need for a big, beefy bike...a bike that was even way bigger than me. Note the Richard Petty sticker on the bike...it was all about speed and big. Big Speed, Two Wheels.

That bicycle -- I loved it. A Yard Sale treasure. My mother said, it's too big. NO! It was perfect. You see how tiny I am on that bike! But I had my own way of steading it and hopping up on the pedals and taking off. I loved how that bike would just sail me along the road. That love for two wheels grew ever stronger.... it became an obsession.

Before the motorcycle love affair began...it was bicycles. Oh I would go on Centurian Rides...that's how insane I was. Big bicycle quests every weekend. I'd easily do a 25 mile a day jaunt...sometimes as much as 60 miles. But the big 100 miles that was really challenging...hills, the whole nine. A real challenge. I mean it was awesome. My legs would be shaking and the next day, I could barely lift my legs to walk I would have trashed them from going the distance and doing those hills.

The only bicycle I have now is little Lollipop - the vintage Schwinn that I got at a yard sale last year. $8.00 find. That wonderful freedom machine you see in the photo above is some where I don't know...my parents got rid of all that stuff I had stored at their house. Yeah, I wish I still had that bike. But I had no where to put my stuff because I lived in a super tiny apartment in NYC. The Shimano bike that I had (that's when Shimano actually had their own brand of bikes) -- the one that I did all my amazing treks on -- was stolen from my NYC apartment building -- the locks were sawed completely off. Can you imagine? I was devastated, in such shock I didn't know what to do...I was pretty much lost without that bike. I couldn't believe it. Someday I'll get another one...but that has been quite a long wait for my someday.

Two wheels and a fast bike...that's my ticket to ride. xoSasha

My Poppi. John F. Mullins HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

John F. Mullins is my father. He is the most AMAZING man in the world to me. I love him more than any MAN in the world. Just like I love my mother more than any WOMAN in the world. These two, no matter what the heck kind of B.S. growing up arguments and spats, and junk that got in the way of a decent parental relationship with their kid, who, by the way, is the most outrageous of the bunch, IT'S all good in the hood with us.

Look at how FREAKIN' cool my father is! I just think this dude is the bomb. I mean he was restoring cars as a greaser guy way back when...he's a brilliant artist, too. When I think of how my father sacrificed to put food on the table day after day and dealing with unemployment issues from labor strikes and layoffs, this man is a hero. I remember as a little girl seeing my dad's hands totally scarred and cut-up from day after day working with metal, fabricating and so on for his job. They were permanently stained with oil and grease from working on cars and at his regular job as a "tin-knocker" sheet metal worker.

It wasn't until he retired that his hands actually looked normal.

My father has been dealing with health issues and its hard to for me to be so far away, here in Nashville, slavin' at the due payin gigs, workin hard to make the career a reality so that I can eventually earn a decent living. Oh, he doesn't want me to give up on it...he wants me to be happy.

Then it becomes the question of, when you can't afford to go home to be with you family because you're just working hard to make ends meet and opportunities happen for a better future for yourself, you ask yourself, okay...where's the quality of life anymore? It's a struggle. See, bratty celebrity people like that Paris girl, well, she doesn't EVER have to worry about this sort of stuff. Maybe she'll be blessed with truth and be able to open up her heart to see the reality that folks struggle with.

I remember watching the first series of the Simple Life, and how the two stars were spilling the milk all over the place giggling, whilst they were trying to learn to work a farm. I cringed at the site....thinking of all the hungry mouths around the world. Including ours growing up....see, we didn't have a whole lot of money so milk consumption was carefully monitored...and with a brood of kids and a gallon of milk to last quite awhile, milk was really a luxury...a precious commodity in the Mullins household. Seeing those girls wasting it for television fodder, well, I actually teared up thinking of how hard my father worked and how very challenging it was for he and my mother to keep within a very impossible living budget...for the groceries.

But times have changed. This man is retired and enjoying life rather beautifully with lots of grandkids and amazing children of his own who are all strong, healthy and balanced people. We are blessed with a very loving and awesome BIG family. The best!

I spoke with him yesterday morning and he told me ALL about his wood carving club. How cool is that? I mean, what fun. He carves animals and paints them. The talent this guy has astounds me. He's always getting into something and doesn't only just do it, just to do it, no he takes it to the cosmos and wants to go to the wall, learn everything. He doesn't even buy all the fancy dancy tools....he just uses the most minimal resources and creates masterpieces. That's what I love so much about him too, is his resourcefulness. He's really great at that and was sure to teach his younguns how to be resourceful in this world and to NOT rely on others for things.

My father gets pissed off at the characters that come in to my life and say how they're going to bring my creativity to the light of day, and then don't. They sort of lead me on. I hate that too. I try not to tell them what's going on because it's not fair to get their hopes up like mine get all jacked up by the folks cruising into my life saying that they want to help me with my music, and art stuff, and then don't. I don't even know why they try to help me, quiet honestly, it's all just talk and hype...for what reason? Who knows. But my Poppi loves me no matter what and always trys to offer great words of encouragement.

He's a hard core New Yorker. Born and raised in Queens, New York. We've got other family hailing from Brooklyn...so we're Queensters and Brooklynites. Tough bunch....with some Long Island thrown in there. Borough background. He don't take anybody's sh*t. Smart as a whip but doesn't flaunt it. Sort of surprises people with his intellect. He lets people talk and talk and talk...he's more the quiet observer. Every word he speaks means something. He's got quite a word pool to choose from...but he's a King at taming the tongue. A quiet contemplative with a loaded gun of intellect. It's fun to watch a know it all just drain their vocal cords filling the air with all kinds of nonsense...my father just pops the moment with a paragraph of hard truth, and it just stuns the other person. They don't know what to say but fumble for words because, most often, my father has completely discounted their shallow opinion and blowhard surety with a mere string of words that are pearls of wisdom.

Oh how I MISS being with this man.... He's so much fun to hang around. A good soul. Now, I'm not a daddy's girl. He's not that type of Poppi. He digs everyone of his kids....but everyone's gotta cut their own path. There has NEVER been any handouts. No sir. No ma'ma. No handouts. Earn your keep in life. Take responsibility at day one out of the womb. Hell we didn't even get a college education. There was no money for that. It was earn a trade, save your money, then go to school.

I was out of the house at 17, fumbling through life like a baby chick wandering around the Adirondecks all alone. But, I've always been a hard core survivor type of chick. The folks taught that, or forced that upon us. Sink or swim. But don't call us to send you a life preserver. Preserve your own life, kid. And, you know what, we all turned out pretty cool. I love you madly, Poppi, for this upbringing because I am a strong and powerful, resourceful and rather fearless female as a result. And Emma, you had alot to do with this, too...so thank you.

Poppi, I LOVE YOU MORE THAN WORDS CAN EVEN SAY. Thank you for the gift of Life. You're the coolest Dude!! Thanks for never telling me to act like a lady, when I was always just this girlie, hippie biker chick with Rapunzel-length hair.

I just think you're incredible and I want you to know that I wish I was there with you so much! I pray to GOD that all this hard work results in a wonderful career so that I can afford to come home again and anytime I want to, so that I can be with everybody!!!

Peace Poppi!!!! Much love, your wild child.

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