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Radio Tierra KZAS 95.1 receives $18,400 grant
Radio Tierra, a local Hood River community radio station, recently was awarded an $18,400 grant from the Oregon Community Foundation. Anne Key, a Radio Tierra DJ and fundraiser, said the grant will be used to update broadcasting equipment that the station needs to increase broadcast quality. KZAS Radio Tierra broadcasts on 95.1 in Hood River, 95.9 in Stevenson, and 107.7 in The Dalles. The grant will be used to purchase servers, computers, microphones, and other broadcasting equipment.
“This grant will allow us to buy equipment that will not only update the sound quality of the station but will also make it possible to expand our community based broadcasts to include more guest DJ’s” says Key.“Though we have great community support to cover the basic costs like electricity and licensing, we needed capital investment to upgrade our equipment. We are grateful that Oregon Community Foundation believes in Radio Tierra, helping us to serve the Gorge area, delivering a high quality broadcast.”
The mission of the Oregon Community Foundation is to improve life in Oregon and promote effective philanthropy. OCF works with individuals, families, businesses and organizations to create charitable funds to support the community causes they care about. Through these funds OCF awards more than $60 million annually in grants and scholarships. The Foundation makes grants through an application process that involves local citizens in the review and evaluation of requests for funds. Application materials are available through the foundation’s Portland office. Individuals or businesses interested in establishing a fun may contact the Portland office at 1221 SW Yamhill, Suite 100, Portland OR 97205, 503.227.6846.
Tonight on Sacred Earth Radio we are going to talk about Tarot. Joanie Sather will be our special guest, and we will do an actual tarot reading on the air! So come join us tonight at 6:30 on Radio Tierra, KZAS 95.1 in Hood River.
The Mary statue in the yard is a very local Goddess. I received her as a house-warming gift from Siri when we lived in Beaver, and I have trucked her concrete self with me around Oregon a few times. I put her in our yard, just outside our fence on 20th street, hoping that she can become a public altar where people feel free to leave offerings if they would like. Sharon helped me plant roses on either side of her. One of my neighbors calls her “The Praying Lady”, and another had the urge to put flowers at her altar, but didn’t.
Mary is one of my many attempts to establish a public personal ritual space. I used to have my concrete statue of Aphrodite down in front of Tom’s bookstore. I would lay flowers around her and leave offerings, but no one seemed to notice, and the corner where she sat was a catch-all for organic detritus. It just didn’t work. I considered buying a house near downtown, living upstairs and turning the bottom floor into public ritual space, but that road remains untraveled. Living at the Temple in Nevada was my first experience being in a public ritual space. And it made me realize how needed these spaces are — spaces dedicated to contemplation, divine connection, personal ritual — whatever is needed.
So my hope is as always that Mary may be able to fill a role for someone, be a little space for a private prayer that is held by others. And that seems to me to be the power of these spaces, that our individual prayers are held, held and heard.
As I was getting ready for bed, I realized that I had prepared an offering of my moon blood, but had forgotten to offer it! So, a quick jet outside for a late night ritual was in order. I slipped on my shoes and a robe, and went to the statue of Mary in our yard. In my mind and my heart I held the faces of our friends here in Hood River, the trials and joys personal and public, the circle we weave. I poured my libation, offering my gifts to the gifts of the earth, locating myself in the grand cycle of birth, fertility, and death, and holding us in the arms of this sacred land at the feet of Mary.
This is the story of a Priestess that awoke one day in the desert in the arms of her beloved. The glow of morning nudged her consciousness, but she turned her face to the pillow, clamped her eyes shut, and hit the etheric snooze. The sun, sliding on her daily path, ignored the snooze request and peeked over the mountain, her warm breath kissing the back of the Priestess’ neck. Unable to resist or escape the warmth and light, the Priestes and her beloved arose for the day.
This is the story of a Priestess that awoke one day in the arms of her beloved in the cool wetness of the Northwest rainforest. The morning sun stayed veiled behind the clouds, light remaining dim. But the birds and the trees and herbs and the flowers started singing at the first moment of light. The Priestess turned her head toward the chest of her beloved, burying her face and trying to drift back to the darkness of sleep, but the tendrils of light pushing at the veils and the chorus of plants called loudly. Unable to resist or escape the soft morning glow and the green robed choir, the Priestess arose for the day and made coffee for her beloved.
This is the story of a Priestess that awoke one day in a lush and deserted land, long ago and out of time. The morning sun filtered through the slats of her hut, and she turned to bury her head in her straw pallet, pulling a tattered blanket around her shoulders. Warm breath and a distinctive smell broke the spell, and she peered through the slit of one eye. A squared pupil stared back. A sigh arose from her lips, and she smiled at the sweet white goat. Unable to resist or escape the pleading stare, the Priestess arose for the day and began her chores.
These are my stories, the present, the past, the beyond.
We began in the green lush of Portland, then headed east and south. Every mile, it got a little drier. Every hundred miles, it got a little warmer. We went through Doug Fir, past the Lodge Pole Pines of central Oregon, to the scrub south of Burns. I opened to the ever enlarging skies. Everytime we would pass a little grove of trees, Siri would get a bit wistful. But, pedal to the metal, I pushed us on all the way to the desert of the Temple of Goddess Spirituality Dedicated to Sekhmet. North of lovely Las Vegas, south of the Nevada Test Site — a curious bookend of sin and self-destruction. But we are betwixt and between, in the arms of Sekhmet.
Yesterday when we arrived we went up to the Temple straightaway. Walking along the path, I picked up dried twigs for a small fire. It didn’t take much to move me firmly back to this place. I began to sing to the twigs and dried roots, grateful that they would make a quick and lovely fire.
I brought Frankinsence candles as an offering. But I had forgotten the lavender I set out to bring. Well, that just got added to the list of the many things I forgot. But, I remembered the candles. I set the little fire, and it lit so easily while the wind picked up. The chants poured from my mouth, winding with the wind whirling around the temple. The flames lept and crouched, and I sang.
Sitting looking into Her eyes, I melted into the stone floor. Melding, becoming one with this sacred place. Feeling Her presence, Her fire, Her light, Her dark gleaming. The wind spiraled around me, the flames reached towards me, and suddenly drops of rain pelted in, carried by the wind. I was cleansed, blessed, and filled to the brim.
I was born and raised in the economic hub of Central America, San Miguel, El Salvador. Since and early age, I showed interest in music, media and politics. My first experience in Radio was in an old Radio Station called La Pantera. The station was very popular with the Migueleños youth because, in the sixties and seventies this was the place where San Miguel heard The Beatles, Los Iracundos, Palito Ortega and all that old rock’n’roll. We used to bring LP’s—do you remember those—and play them for the listeners who would call us and ask us to play some of their favorite stuff.
I went to La Univesidad de El Salvador to study Languistics and Teaching. Although I am a really bad acto, I was part of the University’s traveling Theater. There I helped found the first Circuito Cerrado radio “Alternativa”. The name Alternativa was not only the name of the radio but also an internal political movement of which, of course, I was part.
I came to the Hood River in 1996 when one of the most memorable snow storms happened. I am married to Karen Murphy, who is the de facto official voice for Radio Tierra’s jingo. I currently work for a preschool organization and I have a community and music show every Saturday, “Musica, entrevistas y comentarios, en Resumen Semanal”
Keep on listening!
thursdays 6:30-7:00 pm
jueves 6:30-7:30 pm
|Each week on Sacred Earth we look at the spiritual aspects of the cycles of the Earth. The half-hour program features information about celestial events and the rituals that accompany them. And, of course, music from around the globe with a spiritual sense. Come join us as we explore the dance of the sun, moon, and the earth weekly at 6:30pm on Thursdays.
||Cada semana en La Tierra Sagrada consideramos los aspectos spirituales de los ciclos de nuestra planeta. Este programa de media hora presenta informacion sobre los eventos celestiales y los ritos que los acompanan. Y, por supuesto, hay musica de todos partes co un sentido spiritual. Escuchenos para explorar la danza del sol, la luna, y la tierra cada semana, los jueves a 6:30 pm.|
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|Aaron Glasgow was one of the founders of Radio Tierra. As the main technician for the station, Aaron donated hundreds of hours of his time to make Radio Tierra a reality. His dedication to the station — and bravery — was unforgettably demonstrated on that windy and snowy day on January 24th of 2004 when he climbed the tower of the Hood River hospital to initiate the first broadcast for Radio Tierra.
Aaron is the owner of Edprogress, founded in 2000 to create custom software for the educational markets.