New moon In Gemini.

Holly and Sony 1973…

Mercury, Venus Neptune 

And the new moon.

Bernie Taupin

Picture 

Art show June 2020.

Ed Kuepper 

Jock Blyth 

Favorite guitar players. 

I sent a message to Bernie today

Telling him about my book

That I dedicated to him

And Elton,

“To ride a Painted Pony Wild. 

Instagram dreaming. 

Musically I made contact with some of my favorite musicians, 

lyricist and two electric guitar players. 

Who knows where this will lead 

Who will respond…

It was a most special day for me.

I felt the love. 

new moon In Gemini. 

Raven Man


I have worked with the Medicine Wheel since I turned 13. I study from a depth psychological perspective based on Carl Jung. Sometimes it takes years to understand a symbol. Sometimes it takes time to learn a lesson.


Raven has come to visit. This has not been the first time. Last year on a trip to Arizona to check out colleges for our son we noticed a raven following us. His image  popped up at the funniest places. Then at  a strange little restaurant coffee shop on our way home close to dusk I saw a sparse tree. We were in the desert, yet this tree was tall and on top was Raven calling loudly. I went to take a picture, yet Raven was gone.
I also earlier found Raven in a tree on campus where my son was considering going to college. He disappeared as soon as I went to take his picture again. I am not imagining this for if you ask both my husband and son, they will tell you the same story.

Now again two Ravens are here at my home this mid spring. Seems they may be nesting. They talk a lot and like to dive bomb. They seem to want to be noticed.

This afternoon I had a dream of a Raven Man. He has long braided pig tails in front and long black hair behind him. He has a black mask that covers his eyes. He has leather moccasin boots and leather cloth pants that have laced leather up the sides.

He asked me to bring forward some of my stories where Raven had visited. He said maybe it is time to finally make that Hiawatha Wampum belt, or said I could buy one and support a local Native American tribe. Do your research and show Raven you hear his call?

Awake, I decided to follow through with my dream. I put some cat food and whole peanuts out for the two Ravens.

Years ago, I had a dream where two large black birds were flying at night and merged to make a powerful star in the sky. From that star light shone down as I looked up and saw a crescent moon and heard singing. I made a medicine stick inspired from that dream when I was in my twenties. Now turning 62 I still have the medicine stick near my hearth. It was nice to reflect upon it again in deep respect and longing for meaning. Maybe these two Ravens have something to share?


Stories with Raven

Mindfulness

https://hudleyflipside.com/2019/04/14/mindfulness/

Yes- someone keeps leaving flowers on my front doorsteps

https://hudleyflipside.com/2012/08/14/yes-someone-keeps-leaving-flowers-on-my-front-doorsteps/


Chief Little Raven: Peacemaker

 

 


Bust my chops no more.

Buz Murdock: [Buz is driving the Corvette alongside of Arline who is walking on the side of a road] Look, I want you to know that no matter what it looks like, it’s not a pick up. The good people need to dig each other right now or forget it. Two half-truths never made an integrated single, but two truths together, man, that’s a crazy square root. ~Route 66 (TV series)

I have had a productive day with Wikipedia. I love to edit by adding facts to pages found. Most of it pertained to Flipside Fanzine.  It is a bit of a bummer when I must come across semi Flipside people who are so critical of what I do or am doing.Three guys that always seem to have to insult me and bring me down. I hardly know them and did not spend much time with them if not at all. One says I am full of shit. And told me things about my life that are false and lies. Who is this person?

The last criticism from one is that I am a “commie.” He also said something about my tattoos as if to humiliate me. I do not know where all his resentments come from, but it must be some sort of macho thing. All three like to bust my chops.

Got me thinking about Tattoos though. So out of all their bull it got a little story to boot up. I like to turn bullshit into something beautiful.

The first tattoo that made an impression on me was a little one. It was in the 1960s when my oldest brother served in the navy reserve. He came home with a pair of dice on his left ankle. The whole house was in an uproar about it. I kept wanting to take them off and throw them.

Next when English bands started to tour in the early 1980s I noticed many of the band members with a few tattoos here and there. Big Frank from Whittier started to get a lot of them. He worked for the promoter Goldenvoice. I liked his tattoos as well. It was not until mid-1980s I got my first one.

“The members of the band ASF were nice women. We did not get the pleasure of seeing them play live when they came to visit us that summer, yet I was thrilled in their travels that they decided to give us a visit. I got my first tattoo with Leslie and Tracy.  It was of an image I drew a lot in Flipside of a dancing stick person with wild hair. I got it on my right upper arm. Tracy got a parrot on her right forearm. Leslie got a tribal tattoo on her head. At the time, she had a long Mohawk that she wore down on the side.  The tattoo parlor was a good dive located in Anaheim a block down from Disneyland. It really was a blast. The tattoo artist was a young guy I knew from the scene. As I was getting my tattoo, one of the more seasoned artists walked by and said to us, “Hey kid, you are doing your first tattoo?” Then he looked at me and said in a roguish voice, “Ya, you are getting his first!”  I have forgotten the bleached blond artist’s name.  I do remember his pierced tongue which made a constant clicking sound as he pierced my skin. The last part of inking he did, to the two dancing stick figures with wild hair tattoos, were their eyes. He softly told me, “The eyes contain the soul of each figure!”

~ Excerpt from My Punkalullaby, The Seminary of Praying Mantis.

Around 2009 to 2015 life started to change. Going through menopause and having both parents die was a lot to go through. My husband and I started to go out at night. The kids were old enough to stay home. We went to Mr. T’s Bowl and a local Pub named the Scotland Yard a lot. Fun times. We made a lot of friends and listened to some great music/ Bands and DJs helped me.

A couple of the bartenders, we called them toxicologists, had some nice-looking tattoos. I met up with a local artist and went to a local parlor to start getting tattoos. It was a ritual for me.   It was like the tattoos appeared on me before having them inked in. It was wild. Along with drinking, smoking and driving too fast I felt much better. My tattoos tell a story of becoming a crone. My last two tattoos are a rendering of Dionysus Hollyhocks in my garden. In fact, they are back again growing right now outside my window.

“I want to decorate my body with images that make me feel good when I look into the mirror at myself. A favorite uncle of mine who disagrees with my tattoos likes to say that the body is the temple. I reply that my tattoos are the stained glass of my temple.” – Pg. 36 This is Who I am our beauty in all shapes and sizes. Rosanne Olson.


Quote

A Gift from Saturn and a Poem for Him

via A Gift from Saturn and a Poem for Him

Tennessee Williams The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone

spanish_steps__trinita_dei_monti_from_piazza_di_spagna_rome-1.jpg


Rome is full of the sound of running water, near or distant, loud or barely distinguishable; running water and stone steps are almost as much the signature of the city as the cream-colored domes against the blue sky: and it was not a thing easy to believe, that the man standing at the other end of the window would be urinating against it.

~ Tennessee Williams  The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone


Within the story is a journey of the feminine. A journey that is not often revealed in our current culture. I have watched this film many times. The characters have depth and are interesting. I got a copy of an eBook to read a year or two back. Today I read it and I am glad that I did. The film is an exceptionally good rendering but lacks the full depth of the novel.



Two characters in this short novel are the opposite from each other. One is a shy beautiful young man who rests on an Egyptian obelisk and the other is an aged woman who has lost her beauty and rests on an experience she calls drifting. “American tourist who had stopped a little space away from him, under the Egyptian obelisk whose cryptic pagan engravings the man was appearing to study.”

His clothes are worn and there are holes in his shoes while her clothes become more and more of the highest fashion. This beautiful Apollo has no name and the aged woman is a famous actress, and both find they are in Rome. One was born there the other is a rich tourist. The young man is fixed on her, “for when a man has an appointment with grandeur, he dares not stoop to comfort…”

She is aware of him yet ignores him. He tries to get her attention and she is frightened by his common ways and poverty. His archetype is her Dionysus, that is reaching for that part of herself that is empty. He wants to fill that emptiness with passion and happiness. A stillness that speaks of illumination. He taps, appears in reflections from windows and gestures an ancient salute to try and get her attention.

“His beauty was notable even in a province where the lack of it is more exceptional in a young man. It was the sort of beauty that is celebrated by the heroic male sculptures in the fountains of Rome. Two things disguised it a little, the dreadful poverty of his clothes and his stealth of manner. The only decent garment he wore was a black overcoat which was too small for his body. Its collar exposed a triangle of bare ivory flesh, no evidence of a shirt. The trouser-cuffs were coming to pieces. Naked feet showed through enormous gaps in his shoe leather. He seemed to want to escape the attention which his beauty invited, for whenever he caught a glance he turned aside from it. He kept his head lowered and his body hunched slightly forward. And yet he had an air of alertness. The tension of his figure suggested that he was continually upon the verge of raising his voice or an arm in some kind of urgent call or salutation.”

The film does not touch in on many of the especially important elements that hint upon the magic of female initiation contained in Williams’s novel. The film is much darker than the path of the story.  “…by the balustrade of the terrace. She looked down from it, absently, into the well of the little piazza below. The last remnant of sunlight was touching the pagan inscriptions upon the dull rose granite of the obelisk.”



Karen Stone is waking up to a place within herself. A place that is not moving. She lost her husband to death and has given up her acting career. Karen lost her beauty and the pretense of years of heartless ambition. Her drifting is now partly filled with another young man. He has a name, a position, and has many of the ambitious qualities that she herself once had.

“Paolo is by way of being a little—what was the word she had used? Oh, yes, marcbetta! Something a little superior to a whore but still something on the market superior mostly in being more expensive, an article of greater luxury and refinement, what the French called poule de luxe…”

One difference is he awakens a passion in her she has never experienced before. Even after menopause she is now finding a new place in her life. “The past was, of course, the time when her body was still a channel for those red tides that bear organic life forward. Those rhythmic tides had now withdrawn from her body, leaving it like a tideless estuary on which desire rested like the moon’s image on a calm sheet of water.”

Maybe only moments open to her where she does not experience that feeling of drifting. ” She feels as if time has stopped. in her heart, what would she find as she moved? Was it simply a void, or did it contain some immaterial force that still might save as well as it might destroy her?”

A shining happiness is approaching Karen Stone that may be something ancient and good.  “Her head was remarkably quiet as if a savage bird had been locked in it which had now flown out through some invisible opening.”

I love the film but it is only a shy companion next to Tennessee Williams’s novel.



notes


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_obelisks_in_Rome

Trinità dei Monti

41°54′22.1″N 12°28′59.6″E       Above the Spanish Steps. An Aurelian copy, although smaller, of the Flaminio obelisk of Ramses II in the Piazza del Popolo, for the Gardens of Sallust. Found by the Ludovisi and moved to the Piazza di San Giovanni in Laterano in 1734, but kept horizontal. Erected in 1789 by Pope Pius VI.

https://pharaoh.se/pharaoh/Ramesses-II

 

http://www.obelisks.org/en/flaminio.htm

https://archive.org/stream/twelveegyptiano00parkgoog/twelveegyptiano00parkgoog_djvu.txt

 

 

 

 

Death : Sumer parade

The Lady Who Ascends into the Heavens


My Lady looks in sweet wonder from heaven,
The people of Sumer parade,
before the holy Inanna.
Inanna, the Lady Who Ascends into the Heavens, 
is radiant.
I sing your praises, holy Inanna.
The Lady Who Ascends into the Heavens, 
is radiant on the horizon.

images

Maypole Mayhem is a painting by Patty Donoghue which was uploaded on May 22nd, 2018.


“It’s funny how pride and ego are the very last human vanities to go.” ~ D. Brinkley

Today is the last day of April. Tomorrow is May Day the ancient festival for the beginning of summer. The death of April and the birth of May.

Death is heavy on my mind these days. So many have died due to this virus all over the world. Putting politics aside I want to look at the fear we hold in us about death.

I have many books on my bookshelves that speak of life, death and rebirth. One does not have to have a religiosity to participate in this rite of passage. It is pretty much out of our control. I do not have the direct quote here, but I remember reading about how William Blake felt about death in one of his many quotes. That he would rather see the afterlife as filled with lovely angels. His heaven was a blissful imagined place.

“The sensations verged on orgasmic, yet my thoughts were spinning a mile a minute.” ~ D. Brinkley

I took two books to look at today. To read and reflect upon once again. One is Dannion Brinkley’s book Secrets of the Light and the other is The Tibetan Book of The Dead.

Both books compliment each other in that they talk about death. Dannion was struck by lightning, died and was brought back to life. He has written three books about his near-death experiences. The Tibetan Book of The Dead is a creative and ritualistic book about death in a helpful way. It speaks of the Bardo.

“Bardo means gap; it is not only the interval of suspension after we die but also suspension in the living situation; death happens in the living situation as well. The bardo experience is part of our psychological make-up.” ~ Commentary

I think this is where the world finds itself right now. A gap between the dead and the living, between the staying home and going out and between the past and future. Each moment is the place of bardo, and we are, in a profound sense, all being struck by lightning. We are responsible for this, what is happening in our world. How can we make it better? Well that is up to you.

So, I took it upon myself to get ready to have my mind and heart prepared. I also think on all those who have died and are dying. A prayer is in order.

Even Albert Einstein as a master mind scientist had a way to see this psychological make-up of humanity,

“There are two ways to live your life. One is as through nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

I live my life upon that miracle. I want to be ready for death if it finds me.



 

Wicked Men


Alexis Zorba: God has a very big heart but there is one sin he will not forgive. [slaps table] If a woman calls a man to her bed and he will not go.


I viewed two films last night. The films are Wicked Woman and Zorba the Greek. They are in general both particularly excellent films. One is a 1950s film noir and the other is a cultural film from the 1960s.

Each film captures a time in history. A snapshot of how things may have been. Characters in both films are believable, realistic while also having a diabolical and magical edge.

As a woman a motif came forward that bumped up against my conscious feminine. Both films are from a winning male psychology. The men can fuck up, screw up, cheat, lie and even kill. They get away with it and so a happy ending for them. The women on the other hand always get the short end of the stick. They get let down, lied to, abandoned, used, and killed.



In the film Wicked Woman Beverly Michaels as Billie Nash is an independent woman who is on the move to find a place to put her roots. Roots within a man and a place in the sun. Billie keeps playing One Night in Acapulco by Buddy Baker, on the jute box. She is tall, smart, and has a graceful walk. Men are after her the whole time. The one time she focuses in on a man he takes her, and they plan a sinister plot that falls through. Richard Egan as Matt Bannister gets off the cheating hook and Billie is blackmailed, seduced and must split on a bus. She must beat it.

She is the Wicked Woman that gets the blame. Billie is smart and helpful, yet the man traps are all around her. As a bar server she is wise with her words as every man tried to get her. She even helps her victim drink all the booze she wants even though her husband says no. This bar did not have mixed drinks only shots and beer. I like Billie’s character and understand her. As a woman I cannot tell you how many times I had to take the short end of the stick and leave on a train or bus for something I did not do. Even if she is guilty so is Matt and his drunk ass wife. Even Matt’s alcoholic wife sides with her husband over her friendship with Billie. I think that the two dames in this film should have been wise by telling Matt to go screw. They could have sold the joint and headed for Mexico. To lie in the sun a little bit, drink and have fun. As Billie said. “They like women with Blonde hair and light skin” in Mexico.



Anthony Quinn as Alexis Zorba is our male Zorba the Greek. The film is a cultural phenomenon. It is what it is in an absurd way with a very excellent soundtrack. The hard edge Greek patriarchy is saturated with tradition. A village that is self-sufficient with a thread of history and honor. Every man in this film is an asshole except the fool. Zorba is a creative natural genius that has a compassion that is appropriate at times. He teaches Sirtaki to Alan Bates as Basil. A wonderful Greek dance which shows how Zorba relieves his pain of living life while confronting death. Charming in a way.

Lola, Madame Hortense, and the Widow are parts of this film if only indirectly put among the friendship between Basil and Zorba. It is correct when Zorba tells Basil that the whole town of men are jealous, and all want the widow. A lovely young thing.  Kind of like all the men wanting Billie in the Film Wicked Woman. In this case the lovely young woman is trapped, stoned and then has her throat cut. Premeditated murder by a whole community of men and their old crone women. They are jealous of her youth and beauty. Madame Hortense dies in this film thinking she is married to Zorba to cover up for his earthy affair with a younger woman named Lola. Regardless of this unbelievable cruelty the men dance away their pain.



These two films are part of the winner male psychology. As a young girl growing up, I had this crap dumped into my sensitive unconscious psyche. This kind of male world. I am glad I am wise to it now. I can enjoy these films for their place in history. Yet, I wanted to affirm they are playing against the feminine rules.

Man, at bar, “How about having a drink with me?”

Billie, “I can’t it’s against the rules.”


Humor and hate… and a little sex on the side.


As we grow older, we tend to remember the funniest times of our life, if the most productive. This popped into my head today and got a round belly laugh going. It was mentioned on the Flipside Memorial Facebook page and with an interview I had with Razorcake fanzine. One of their first online podcasts. I want to share the story again. The privilege of getting older is you can recite stories again and again…

This image is from Flipside Fanzine. An SST advertisement. A lot of people ask me why I did this? Defile a Raymond Pettibon image. A mustache on nun face of an album cover …? Slip It In …. sorry guys kind of deserve what you got! At the time waiting to publish an issue sometimes out of boredom I had moments of inspiration!! I was feeling humorous … who knows what was on my mind at the time. I never heard one complaint from Raymond at all. Henry Lawrence was offended. SST put out a flyer stating all the people and organizations that they were against. The last on the list being LAPD and HUD! (does anyone have that in their nostalgia flyer stash?) I could never figure it out, was it me they were hating, or the character played by Paul Newman in the film Hud?

I do remember a Santa Monica show with Charged GBH. I had pee yellow hair that ran all over my shirt from going crazy before the bands. Anyway, Henry was looking for me to kick my ass. I weighed about 125 lbs. back then and stood about 5’ 4”. Luckily, I was in GBH’s backstage room and they blocked Henry’s defense movement. So, a little punk chick could bug a few people. I did not get it! I was just moving forward with the long-standing Flipside juice … Flipside staff people “causing considerable trouble?” I learned that from X-8.

We must explore!

The Naked Grace…


These times are asking us to go within. Over the generations we have taken this journey within. By choice, by accident and spiritually. Through drugs, side effects from prescribed medication or by magic.

A song can amplify this reality. A writer can share the experience. Songs filled with lyrics are poetry put to music. The images come forth and touch us. These three songs came to mind today when I was out in the garden pulling tall grass from the rich soil. It all came together. The dark earth holds things. Pulling on the grass and releasing the soil is a forward effort of movement. The dark moist earth has a relationship with our psyches.

I believe that unless we willfully take this inward journey as an individual it will be forced upon us. On a personal level or a generational level is how it goes. Anytime we suppress our shadow, blame others, or spread hate it is bound to a generation. Are we not observing this right now? Songs can help us. I need them like I need flowers in my garden or kitty cats to hug.

Here are three songs that explain this journey variable. From the 1960s Catch the Wind by Donovan is a peaceful song.  Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo is an amazing song that shares some interesting historical mysteries.  The Forbidden Zone by Charged GBH, one dose and you take their hand into a strange journey of a musician’s psyche.

♦Donovan is an unusual songwriter and folk singer that touches upon the light side of our psyche. He reminds us to remember the beauty in life. It is around us and in us if we go looking for it. Our psyches do often look back at us. We can reflect on this soft beauty from time to time.

“When sundown pales the sky

I want to hide a while

Behind your smile

And everywhere I would look, your eyes I’d find.”

♦Oingo Boingo’s song is remarkably interesting and worth listening to intensely. As a young punk back in the late 1970s I had an Oingo Boingo badge on my jacket. I was approached by a couple of punk chicks who mocked me and belittled me for wearing it. A time when the first signs of punk cultism started to show its ugly face.

“I was struck by lighting, walkin’ down the street

I was hit by something last night in my sleep

It’s a dead man’s party who could ask for more

Everybody’s comin’, leave your body at the door

Leave your body and soul at the door.”

“For Crowley, who was a painter himself, the artist ranked above the magician on the totem pole of illumination, and he considered poetry and art as precious tools for transforming one’s innermost psychic visions.” Chapter Spencer Kansa, Pg. 92 Wormwood Star, The Magickal Life of Marjorie Cameron.

♥A wild journey inward to the shadowy psyche is found in the book City Baby from Highgate to Hawaii… Life, and GBH by Ross Lomas.

“This went on for hours. More and more of the same. It was incredibly intense. God and Jimi and Anne Carpenter and the devil and the fucking taxi driver, fighting over my soul right up to the point I passed out in exhaustion.” ~ Chapter neil sedaka, Pg. 120.

“Take my hand and we’ll explore,

The forbidden zone.

When you’re in your own tree,

But don’t know if anybodys home.”

Jimi Hendrix was playing guitar while Anne was a nun of salvation may show us that his journey was amplified by many elements as a fight for his soul. When the shadow opens to us it is always a powerful trip. I find that Ross most likely is stronger for his experience. A bite like this prepares us for real outward tragedies as we are facing today.




It turns me on. Enough said

I love this picture that my son took of me. It is that time when I united the male and female within me.


I was reading that Indian Gurus’ overall goal is to unite all religions of the world. They also talk about a united male female god. This is very simplistic I know. Also, the religions of the world have tended to be very male oriented. As most cultures or all cultures for the last two thousand years. As a religious studies major in college, BA and Masters, I always had a thorn in my side. With in-depth Jungian Psychology I have found the answers to many of my concerns. For me it was uniting the masculine and feminine within myself, or in Jungian terms the anima and animus.

I have a “hard-on” for life. Even within the diversity of life right now. I can’t help getting one when I see flowers in bloom and the whole of nature in a type of rapture. Welcome Spring. It is not the male kind of hard-on but it something inside. Not sexual but very blissful-orgasmic at times

Now I try to feel it as often as I can. When I get the hard-on for life. Flowers blooming, a song, my friends all help to amplify this experience.

It is ironical for me to have these feelings while also having to balance it out with my compassion for what we are all going through now. I know it is a dark time, a real challenge for all of us in different ways.

I am mindful of those suffering. They are not alone when we think upon them. I have love in my home that comforts me.

Also, the human Ego is my friend. I think that males and females have a different relationship with their Egos. I feel males need to let their Egos float downstream a little. I think females should ride their Egos. It is good to be admired as it is to admire another. I like the feeling of appreciation as well as when I feel the feelings of appreciation for another.


As a female riding her Ego it is like riding in a canoe. Sometimes the river is smooth and glossy. Other times it is a prissy fucking nightmare. Yet we need to express our realities to the world as I am doing here.