The Call Of the Holy Baubo Protagonist!

The call of holy Baubo is strong now.

The evil shadow of history comes forward again…

The highest court of our land is making it impossible for women to care for their own bodies. When women are deflowered or devalued it is time to look at the other sex… the male, especially all conservative moronic males, and their bitches…. Time to address their sperm and ask the big question,

“If a man gets a woman pregnant without the holy affirming blessing of the great Baubo herself, then off with his balls, or head … whichever. What do you think about that justice?”

Baubo’s theme song…. always and forever.

Inanna’s Trinity


Inanna arose

It is great to look back at this post. The watercolors are on 8 1/2 by 11-inch watercolor paper. Praying Mantis is an anthropomorphism often found in all my art.

At the time creating this, I was going through a very dark time and so this is my mythological and mysterious visit “to the great below.” A documentation creatively. Extremely hard to do. Thanks to Inanna. Her service in sharing with me ‘Kurgarra, the food of life, and Galatur the water of life.” I came back up into a life. A good life indeed

“But when women succeed in maintaining themselves against the animus, instead of allowing themselves to be devoured by it, then it ceases to be only a danger and becomes a creative power. We women need this  power, for, strange as it seems, only when this masculine entity becomes an integrated part of the soul and carried on its proper  function, and, at the same time, also being herself, to fulfill her individual human destiny.”

Pg. 42 Animus and Anima; Two Essays by Emma Jung.

From Winter to Spring (Summer) real change happens. The death of Winter and the rebirth of Spring. We now symbolically descend to the underworld as we approach winter.

Yet anytime where the dark bulls you down….

Symbolically and esoterically the resurrection of Christ Jesus after three days in the underworld, the release of Prometheus by Chiron, and the release of Persephone from the underworld are the promises of Spring to come. As change and growth are availed.

But now Persephone spends 6 months with Pluto away from her mother Demeter.

Another ancient or popular story is the one of Inanna the Goddess of love, Queen of Heaven and Earth.

The story holds the feminine trinity. It is a cuneiform Sumer texts about 3000 years old.

The characters of this story are Inanna Goddess of love, Queen of Heaven and Earth, Ereshkigal~ Queen of the Underworld, and Lilith ~ the dark rebel adolescent of Inanna. The feminine trinity.

In the Inanna story we also find a similar part as with Persephone’s story where Inanna’s king Dumuzi as the shepherd king of Uruk spends 6 months in the underground.

“His heart was filled with tears, the shepherd’s heart was filled with tears, Dumuzi’s heart was filled with tears.”

The wisdom god Enki helps Inanna from the underground.

“He creates from the dirt of his fingernails the kurgarra and galatur- instinctual, asexual creatures who will not disturb the necessary infertility rules of the kur. He endows the creatures with the artistic and empathetic taken of being professional mourners, capable of mirroring the lonely queen’s emotions.” Pg. 160.

Also interesting in this ancient trinity is the place of Lilith. Here a different perspective of her is offered.

“The powerful Lilith of Inanna’s adolescent days had to be sent away so Inanna’s life exploring talents could be developed. But now that Inanna has become queen of her city, wife to her beloved, mother of her children, she is more able to face what she has neglected and feared: the instinctual wounded, frightened parts of herself. She now hears, and capable of responding to, the labor call of Ereshkigal ~The Great Below.” ~Pg. 160 Inanna by Diane Wolkstein.

A rendering of Inanna’s Trinity

God of Wisdom and Shepard King
“He creates from the dirt of his fingernails the Kurgarra, the food of life, and Galatur the water of life.

Inanna’s Trinity

Goddess of Love, Queen of Heaven and Earth

Queen of the Underworld

Dark Rebel and Adolescent of Inanna

Based on the ancient story of Inanna from the book Inanna by Diane Wolkstein

Pluto Love


“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies was made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff.” – Carl Sagan

I am often confronted by Astrologers and critiqued. As I am not one, I am an esoteric student that has built a relationships with our planets in an extramundane way. As with Venus and Pluto that pulls at us aware or at us very unaware. Through logarithms, math, and aspects or otherwise.

For me it is my creative imagination, dreams, and myths. This is my formula or elixir.

I am forewarned to a dream that helped me understand this dynamic relationship. It is ancient, old as the light and the darkness, the male and the feminine or Gods and Goddesses. Life and death, peace and war, power and truth all play in this drama in our souls, in the world and out in the cosmos.

It is a mystery that we all face… and must pass.

“To improve the external situation in the world, we must begin by accepting that world as a mother accepts her child; to improve our intimacies, we much extend the same benevolence to ourselves. The acceptance we must cultivate is the same: the emphasis remains on the inner world. As Jung pointed out, “The upheaval in our world and the upheaval in consciousness is one and the same.” We must come home to ourselves with a mothering acceptance, and so give birth to ourselves with a mothering acceptance, and so give birth to true emotion, the basis of all true intimacy. ” Pg. 129 Astrology Beyond Ego – Tim Lyons

th (22) while back I had a scary dream. I was with a group of people. We were all running from evil monster zombies. The feeling was dread. We found a train and traveled to the country. It was horrid. The thought of death approaching was a sickness in us all. We found a cabin in the countryside. I had my white cat Mr. Po Po with me. He ran from the cabin out into the darkness of the night. The zombies were there. The monsters were close. I had to run after my cat. Terrified I ran out into these monsters of chaos and fear beyond enduring. As I found my cat. I hugged him. I was confronted by the evil that pursued us. Everything stopped. I looked into death and he said this to me,

“I cannot hurt you with that cat.

You all run in fear and hate

Yet there in your hands is your love

I cannot touch you or harm you with love.”

th (23) was overwhelmed with dread, then fear, and then I felt only my cat’s love. I walked slowly back into the cabin and told the others what happened to Mr. Po Po and me.  We all sat in a circle and held hands. We now knew what to do.

w e sang a new song.

Pluto and the underworld.
Pluto and death.
Pluto and nuclear weapons.
Pluto and power of the underground.
Pluto and transmutation.

Pluto loves Persephone!


Orfeo ed Euridice, Wq. 30: Act II, Scene 2: “Torna, o bella” (Chorus)

Translated… I hope this is correct!

“Come to the realms of bliss,

great hero, tender husband,

rare example in any age!

Amor returns Eurydice to you;

already she revives and recovers

all the flower of her beauty.”

RIP Mr. Po Po and thank you!

In the film 20th Century Women …women are at the table.


I saw the film 20th Century Women last week. It felt like it did when I use to go see bands from the east coast or from overseas. Anticipation filled me. My two sons came with me. We went to the Arclight Theater near Sunset in Hollywood. The films first day of its release in California.

I talked to a few ladies as they left the theater after seeing the film. They had happy looks on their faces. Profound words filled my ears as I listened to the closing credits buzzing the Buzzcocks lyrics in my ears. Pete Shelley’s unique voice was singing the song “Why can’t I touch It.” There was an equal number of men at this event as well.

I was not sure if my two sons, who are 16 and 25 would like the film. After seeing it we had a great talk while driving back to the San Fernando Valley. Oldest son reflected on how the film’s director and writer, Mike Mills, answered some questions for him about a few things. About women in general. This film takes us to a merging of generations. Mike Mills takes this film to a higher place than the usual action films my son goes to see. He compared his film to the film Whiplash. He says both films have quality. They may not be big media monsters, yet they have something real to say about life that has value. It speaks about real life at a different level.

The archetype that came forth for me in 20th Century Women, is the Baubo myth. Currently in our wondrous American culture, I feel that women have been assaulted consciously and unconsciously. Current politics in this country are trying to take a woman’s voice away from the table.

They are talking that taboo talk too. That Demeter, Persephone and Baubo talk from those ancient Eleusinian mysteries. Is it feminism or something more? It is defiantly an ancient archetype where women are sitting at the table. The women in this film are finding their power in the world. As if a giant ancient powerful beautiful flower opens to us who are watching this film. Baubo is not ashamed to show her private parts.

This film is about so much more too. It is about a mother and her son, friendship and growing up. It also reflects on how men and women can be friends and share in that ideal called equality. They can learn from each other! Hopefully finding this needed equality.

There are images of Maxfield Parrish Paintings, and Jean Nate Bottles in this film that are delightful to catch. Mike Mills is taking it to the next level. I hope we are all listening too. I know that the simple things in life can hold the profoundest mysteries. Yet, this is not a simple film. Either is the experience we call life. Life is a tragedy, drama, and comedy all at the same time, with punk rock as a side kick.



Daily Prompt: Shape Up or Ship Out : Clean and Gold

This time of the year, as we dance from spring to summer,

is a challenging time for all humanity and nature.

It is the hardest time of the year for me; my pineal gland throbs like a character from a H.P. Lovecraft story.

The dusk brings the whispering of angry tongues and betrayal. I see the attack of a giant pornographic immorality in advertisement and from politicians’ mouths.

The world seems to be on the way of being shipped out!

Yet this is just my shadow speaking to me and maybe it is amplified with other shadows lurking and flying in the dark.

We cannot “ship it out” we need to look at it, 

Yell at it and understand those parts of ourselves that we do not like.

 We might try to do what the ancient mysteries tell us to do?

 It is all about transmuting base metals into gold.

Cleaning out the bomb shelter..2013
Cleaning out the bomb shelter..2013

This is the best time of the year to take inventory of one’s personality traits; also known as character and attributes. Ancient mysteries speak of the mystic marriage at the summer solstice. Parsifal and the Holy Grail and Arthurian legends speak of these times. It really all comes down to character. The Rosicrucian’s state “character is destiny.” Carl Jung speaks of individuation. This is when we combine” being alike” with “being unique;” being an extrovert with being an introvert! The marriage is a joining of the feminine and masculine too where the result is androgynous “ising.” This is an ongoing motif in all cultures.

The quote “shape up or ship out” smells of duality; It might be more reflective to say as Native Americans call it “the great give away” or how I was brought up doing “spring” cleaning. The Sumer goddess Inanna is torn apart in the underworld and then comes together again before she ascends into the heavens to be with her lover and king: The mystic marriage once more.

The personality traits we do not like in ourselves are only our shadow. If we listen to our shadow, we can befriend it “invite the devil to tea” and grow more authentically. Can we become stuck in the duel with our shadowy self where egotism, hate, narcissistic tendencies, and uncaring controls us like a puppet. You bet. We are all part of this living drama.

If one is to brighten their character one can look to others, they admire. A friend of mine who I admire posted this quote on Facebook today.

“You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.” ~ Charles Bukowski

I do not like Charles Bukowski because he reminds me of my drunken’ dad but I acknowledge the wise words that he has learned through much suffering. I prefer this quote about character building,

“Tell your friends everything. Give away your secrets. “Be wise as serpents and gentle as doves.”  ~ Allen Ginsberg

For me it is about; am I being humble or arrogant, conceited or ego-centric? Am I achieving social independence or am I pulled into the realm of social approval? Can I be trusting, or do I listen to the green-eyed monster of suspicion? As a woman pride is not the problem… am I confident in all that I do? Not just as a mother, Wife, Sister, or Daughter but a feminine being… a unique upstart at times…. yes unique, creative, and true to myself!!!


Guess which film this is from?

All about Personality traits.

The Gift of Magic

A journey after reading a random pick from Jung’s Black Books. During these disturbing times I often seek council with these living books of wonder.

While reaching for my Red Book a note fell to the ground and it said,

“The Gift of Magic.”

I was following through with Jung’s commentary after reading his Black Book. I was amazed by the depth of the commentary which is about Magic. I am surprised by the beauty of these living books. I started to read all the commentary pertaining to this random subject in his Red Book. It is a story which answered many things for me while also somehow including my life. Reading the references and commentary is the best.

Jung Black Books: Random pick of paragraph from [v.4]

S. Are you sending me away?

I. I’m sending you away. You must not be far from me. But give to me out of your fullness, not your longing. I cannot satisfy your poverty just as you cannot still my longing. If your harvest is rich, send me some fruit from your garden. If you suffer from abundance, I will drink from the brimming horn of your joy. I know that will be a balm for me. I can satisfy myself only at the table of the satisfied, not the meager crumbs of those who yearn and desire. I will not steal my payment. Pg. 253 [v.4] (126/127).

126.The subject of this sentence was replaced by “We fetched.” (ibid)

127. For Jung’s commentary on this entry, see LN {Red Book}, pg. 439-40.

Red Book.

“Well, all you will do is laugh anyway. So why should I tell you anything? It would be if everything were buried with me. It can always be rediscovered later. It will never be lost to humanity since magic is reborn with each and every one of us.” Pg. 313

“You know, the wisdom of things to come; there fore you are old, oh so very ancient, and just as you tower above me in years, so you tower above the present in futurity and the length of your past is immeasurable. You are legendary and unreachable. You were and will be, returning periodically. Your wisdom is invisible, your truth is unknowable, entirely untrue in any given age and yet true in all eternity, but you pour out living waters from which the flowers of your garden bloom, a starry water, a dew of the night. 148/149 pg. 316

“What do you need. You need men for the sake of small things, since everything greater and the greatest thing is in you. Christ spoiled men, since he taught them that they can be saved only by one, named him, the Son of God, and ever since men have been demanding the greater things from others, especially their salvation; and if a sheep gets lost somewhere, it accuses the shepherd.  You are a man, and you prove that men are not sheep, since you look after the greatest in yourself and hence fructifying water-flows into you garden from inexhaustibly jugs.”

I will continue to study this yet this is enough for now.

John Carpenter’s Elvis, 1979.

“He liked his chicken fried.” Johnny Carson Late Night Show, Cybill Shepherd

Kurt Russell as Elvis

Kurt Russell did a swell job in this film, I guess that was the last film I chose to see of Elvis’s Biography. I remember seeing his Come Back Special in 1968. I was in love and cried. He was all dressed in black leather. I mailed in through correspondence and purchased the LP. Yet as I get older, I find it redundant how film makers make so many remakes of music characters, comic books etc.! I look for creativity and new things! Yes, I am also happy in a world of those originals… I remember an interview I viewed with Kurt Russell. He shared how he knew Elvis as a young actor. Elvis loved Kurt’s dad Bing Russell. Elvis liked how Kurt’s dad wore his cowboy hats. Longhorns as an acting cowboy. The narrative has that taste of continuity, nepotism but also honest friendship.

My special memories as I get older seem to get extra special. I don’t want another to dapple with their interpretation of my own precious personal experiences. I guess that is it. Like when some young people tell you about your favorite Film Noir. Like it is new, and no one else ever saw it before. Most of us have been viewing these films since conception. So, I usually don’t listen. I am not inclined to read a book from a 5th generation kid’s imagination of how things were when I lived through it personally. That is my old person thing. The more books the better but really not my thing.

And as for the guy who seemed kind of touchy about his review of the new Elvis film when I said, “Oh no not another Elvis Film?”

I was not criticizing him, his review, or his job… just the boredom I feel or being jaded. How could anyone do another film like this again. It all comes down to what inspires us. I guess Elvis does not inspire me like he once did. Especially with the real interviews from people who really knew him I have viewed over the many years of life since Elvis’s death.

“He liked his chicken fried.” Cybill Shepherd

She is referring to how Elvis liked his young women high for sex. She was one of them.

His whole persona killed my need to love him. A disillusionment and a part of growing up. Yet his songs are still moving. A song is a song no matter who the real person is or has become after the recording.

So that is where I am coming from. Yet everyone is contrary. Elvis is one of those performers or rock God’s that is so very very extremely contrary, it is rather sad to me. I just don’t desire to see it again from another creative perspective. It is redundant to me.

My first portable record player played my first 45 Love Me Tender. One of my first memories as a two- or three-year-old. Along with reaching up for buttered bread from my mom. SO good.

Bing Russell

Summer Solstice greetings: Tresses and Timpani.

The summer solstice is here again. A pulling time for me. The male and female of my being or psyche need to be addressed. My throat gets tight, and sleep time filled with dreams. Lost tossing and turning. I love reading the many greetings on Facebook. I am pondering on my doppelgänger too. Humor, darkness, and accountability to the world and back to myself.

I think about the sacred marriage.

Inanna and Dumuzi

Dionysus and Ariadne.

Looking down the history

of marriage in general

is not such a nice story to share here

but the two above have the perfect archetype of marriage

which can be found in us all.

A Call to Inanna:

“I say, “Hail!” to Inanna, Great lady of Heaven!

They beat the holy drum and timpani before you.

The people of Sumer parade before you.

I say, “Hail!” to Inanna, Great Lady of Heaven!

They play the holy harp and timpani before you.

The people of Sumer parade before you.

I say, “hail!” to Inanna, First Daughter of the Moon!”

Wolkstein. Inanna Queen of Heaven and Earth. Pg. 97. Harper & Row.


A call to Dionysus:

Our leader, from his thyrsus spray

A torchlight tosses high and higher,

A torchlight like a beacon-fire,

To waken all that faint and stray;

And sets them leaping as he sings,

His tresses rippling to the sky,

And deep beneath the Maenad cry

His proud voice rings:

“Come, O ye Bacchae, come!”

Euripides. The Bacchae of Euripides (p. 8). Kindle Edition.

here is the current song… in case I am accused of hipping out… i don’t care… really

The continuity of an interview

Yes, we complete our long planned, constantly initiated and painfully done projects with the expression of joy as artists. I walked into a rather new realm during a pandemic. I feel that good feeling of having given birth to something new, yet my doppelgänger is always lurking to assert the doubts, fears and worries of putting something forward into the world.

Just recently I put up one of my cartoons of Elon Musk on his Go to Space rocket campaign on Facebook. A cartoon- rendering of him singing the theme song to Buck Rogers in the 25th Century. I thought satire would be appreciated. Yet there are individuals who don’t get it. One woman told me that her two-year-old drew better. Of course, she is not getting the point of all politically motivated editorials…. So, I start to dwell on the nasty criticism. My shadow amplifies my work all the time…

Then I think upon my noble friend Dionysus and realize his words of “Believe in Yourself,” or my youngest son telling me that you should value your hard work. Money and value are not my motivations for creating… it is the act of doing, the process, which is my thing. Yet I am trying to understand.

So, this project started a long time ago. I never comprehended I would complete it. So many things to learn, blocks to break through, skills to earn. I have made this. Details might not be noticed. The continuity of an interview as a narrative is especially hard to do, but I did it.

Books, video learning and on the spot training by myself. Challenging my mind and soul. As a battle between my doppelgänger and my sweet Dionysus.

This project is blooming like my lovely Hollyhocks. A voice and narrative that is so important to me. A story I always wanted to hear. Now I share.

Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine the Narrative Documentary / Film.

Epeisodion One… between the songs are the staff punks. Those who created a music fanzine.

Flipside Fanzine the Creation Story.

Original Punk Staff Larry Lash

(Steven Shoemaker) Runs a local business in Whittier California called Steve Shoemaker Live

In search of Cat food

“But, suddenly, I viddied that thinking was for the gloopy ones and that the oomny ones use like inspiration and what Bog sends; for now it was lovely music that came to my aid. There was a window open with a stereo on, and I viddied right at once what to do…”

Alex: A Clockwork Orange, Book Anthony Burgess; Film Stanley Kubrick

You know how picky kitties are. So, I have been unlucky. Maybe a small box here and there. Cleaning up kitty barf is often a strong biological rebellion that lets me know something is wrong with the food. Bravely I am stepping out of my cave to places I have avoided … Smart & Final off Milton is one such place. And though I noticed they no longer play songs over their PA…. Today I had a strange experience! Yes, a strange note or two of weird synchronicities. Usually happening at times when one is drifting. Like me! It is throwing an anchor down time. Similar to editing, anchoring a graphic image on Adobe Premiere Pro. Animation, motion, and a focus in.

And then it came like the big bright bird of pure crystal roundabout meaning. Moments of a song burst loudly over Smart & Final’s PA. A moment that brings my ears, heart, and lips a humming.

“Let the stormy clouds chase.

Everyone from the place

Come on with the rain

I’ve a smile on my face!”

Yes, that song from the film A Clockwork Orange anchored me from drifting. Aligning me with my opus again.

Then silence, only the clatters of the supermarket’s mundane sounds of customers shopping.

Singing In the Rain was the one song that changed my life years ago … how is this possible to hear it for only a moment today as I randomly searched for Friskies Seafood Sensations Adult Cat Dry Food, With Vitamins?

Then at 19 and now at 64… “for now it was lovely music that came to my aid.”

A wake-up call.

Praying Mantis Opus

The Dark One-Between Intervals.

The Iliad Bookshop mural

The Dark One

Sitting in my computer room I hear the sound of a flowing river of tires on asphalt. I notice it more distinctly because two windows are opened for fresh air. The contrary sound of birds singing, bees humming, my husband coughing and a random hummingbird, with a sudden bursting motorcycle sound of no fucking muffler, highlights my realm of hearing.

Today I am pulled to read a random reading. Jung’s Black Books are calling. Something from the 3rd book. I get out my small latter to reach up on the top shelves. Heavy and dusty I put it down. I notice that they are out of order. It is 1,3,2, isn’t an interval defined as the distance between 2 notes? I pull the book out and randomly open it up. I read the first paragraph I first touch with my eyes.

“I strive toward those lowlands, where the weak currents, flashing in broad mirrors, stream toward the sea, where all haste of flowing becomes more and more dampened, and where all power and all striving unites with the immeasurable extent of the sea…. Someone is standing there, on the last dune- he is wearing a black wrinkled coat. He stands motionless and looks in the distance. I go up to him. He is pale and gaunt and with a deeply serious look in his eyes. I say to him: Let me stand beside you for a while, dark one. I recognized you from afar. There is only one who stands this way, so solitary at the last corner of the world. “Stranger, you may well stand by me, if it is not too cold for you. As you can see, I am cold, and my heart has never beaten.” I know, you are ice and the end. You are the cold silence of the stones: and you are the highest snow on the mountains and the most extreme frost of outer space. I must feel this and that’s why I stand near you. pg. 114 [v.3]

This quote doesn’t touch me at first but as the day moves on, I realize that I too know the place or the dark one. I call it or him the bone. Some of us have visited this place. For me it is the mystics who brought me back to the goodness of a beating heart and the joy of cool feet in water on a hot day.

With a little jazz in the background the asphalt sea outside all seems good… dare I say normal.

We live in the notes of random intervals. I have read, heard, and understand these stories from other people I love. Their visiting those “end of the world” places, times or the dark one. Some got stuck there not finding their way back. I feel grief. Then there are those that made it through … I see them successful. Life is a strong movement forward. That is what the return takes.

Data cap and drifting

AT&T have been data capping us for the last week. Between youngest son’s finals and my small business, with ongoing projects, time is slowed down! No internet connections. New arrangements are being made. New internet and TV services are in process!

My second time going to Target during this long pandemic because a phone line comes with the new service. I found only two for sale.

I told the young salesman at Target that I was looking for an old time phone with a Rotary Dial, he said,

“This is the only old time phones now a days.”

Black, slick and rather fancy land line electronic modem I thought.

Yet He held up exclamation hands as I laughed out loud. I thought he would think me strange but instead smiled along!

Walking away I saw the small record highlights section in the store. The Go Go’s above Credence Clearwater Revival. I felt a dark kick in my belly. Well that about does it.

I sure am drifting in this place of extra extra over indulgent mass media …

At home I put the laundry in the wash. Moving slowly I went outside to cool my feet in the pool. Feeling blue and contrary … then a sparkling tiny clear exoskeleton caught my eye. On top of the water like a feather. A special sight.

Praying mantis is growing in my garden shedding exoskeletons. With one are thousands … and one glorious holy skin randomly drifted my way !? Now that is the good news my heart craves!


It is frankly no one’s business but her own

Christine Blasey Ford the brave watercolor by Hudley Flipside.


The Honorable Amy Coney Barrett

The Supreme Court of the United States

One First Street N.E.

Washington, D.C. 20543

Dear Amy Coney Barrett,

“Love is a chain of love as nature is a chain of life.”

Truman Capote

As a mature woman of 64. I have watched and experienced the lovely civil and women rights movements grow and flourish upon our land. It was never easy. Protests for a movement must be loud and strong to be heard. I am asking that you let Roe Vs. Wade be untouched.

As a religious studies major, I have witnessed that diversity holds this country profoundly tighter together. We are diverse cultures of the wealthy, middle class, and the poor. Faith is beautiful to behold but not when it enforces laws on “we the people” or “we the women,” it then becomes an unjust distortion.

Conservatism and liberalism are a battle going on in this country, neither should take away from a right of a woman to choose for herself. Womens’ healthcare needs to be stamped with private. Whatever a woman does is between her and her doctors. We need the best healthcare and more Planned Parenthood clinics. We need more compassion and less restrictions as created trouble current trouble by the Supreme court.

In my life I have had two abortions, two miscarriages and have given birth to two healthy boys. At 18 I was group raped so I had the freedom to have an abortion. Later I was not ready to raise a child on my own and at two weeks had another abortion. After I was older and married, I had two painful miscarriages that broke up my first marriage. At 31 I married again and now have two bright boys ages 21 and 30. One is studding Geophysics, and the other is working as a software engineer. My husband is a respiratory therapist who has been at the heart of the COVID19 pandemic. He has saved more newborn life than most. Life is precious.

Luckily, I had a Planned Parenthood clinic to go to for both abortions and the government to help me with my first birth. For the last twenty years life has improved and now we have full medical insurance coverage available, as my second birth was so guided.

As my narrative shares it is clear that youth, rape, and poverty are the highest percentages for abortion cases currently.

I hope you will do all that you can to see that this is real. If you lived through the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s you must see that we can not go back to how it was but must continue to move forward.

Don’t shame yourself or this country by looking down upon any woman who may have to make this very difficult decision to have an abortion… it is between her God, her faith, her doctors, and herself. It is frankly no one’s business but her own.

Thank You,

Hudley’s Literary Salon

Happy Independent Bookstore Day

A wrench in the machine, however achieved, to get your words out for others to read!


Johannes Gensfleisch zur Laden zum Gutenberg (/ˈɡuːtənbɜːrɡ/;[1] c. 1400[2] – 3 February 1468) was a German inventor, printer, publisher, and goldsmith who introduced printing to Europe with his mechanical movable-type printing press. His work started the Printing Revolution in Europe and is regarded as a milestone of the second millennium, ushering in the modern period of human history. It played a key role in the development of the Renaissance, Reformation, Age of Enlightenment, and Scientific Revolution, as well as laying the material basis for the modern knowledge-based economy and the spread of learning to the masses.[3][4][5][6] Wikipedia

If today is support your independent bookstore day, then I say do support them in all the variables of delivery.

“Author events at independent bookstores sometimes take the role of literary salons [2] and independents historically supported new authors and independent presses.” Wikipedia

Patron Saint of Books, Publishers and bookstores….

Grateful for my publishing patron saint the Praying Mantis.

As one who has an independent bookstore in my bedroom converted into an office. I found that the definition of what a independent bookstore is has delightfully changed.

Seems to me that most independent bookstores are sole proprietorships. I remember a book I read once about a woman in England who opened a bookstore. In the back she also published books. In the front of her building, she had a coffee-tearoom and to the side an adjoining art gallery.

It has always been in the back of my mind to have a similar setup.

I have been in the printing or publishing business since I first took a printing class in high school while enrolled in a graphic art course at a local occupational school. Oh Ya!

My first job was pasting numbers in books for an adult book publisher.

The holy X-ACTO knife, the printing press and the revolutionary Xerox printing machine helped create and promote a thousand hubs and underground scenes; flyers and fanzines do come to mind!

And though I have not found independent books stores as agreeable to new or independent authors, some of my favorite books in my bookcases are from independent bookstores.

As a sole proprietor of an independent publishing company, I celebrate today. I love books … even crazy little comic books.

I even appreciate the eternity of dust on my husband’s infinity of chess books in our home. All purchased from independent chess book publishers and bookstores.

Over 40 years I have had this X-ACTO knife case and knife…

As I have said I run an independent bookstore from my home. A bedroom converted into an office. There is a coffee machine in the kitchen, unique art on the walls, and candles burning bright. The same smell that once filled the independent bookstore known as the Bodhi Tree in West Hollywood.

My point being publishing houses and independent bookstores come in all shapes and sizes. Good grief, nowadays one must be creative! Hardcover books smell great and are still a revelation to hold close to ones’ heart.

I have a publishing house that engages with print on demand. I support publishing all around the world this way.

From William Blake’s funky imaginative little self engraved publications to the revolutionary pamphlets of Thomas Paine. To all means of fanzines, paperbacks, and dirty magazines. To a local building, a suite, or online indie / DIY publishers who grew through this ridiculous pandemic.

Cheers! To all independent bookstores, publishers and most importantly to the ones who write.

Much Ado …

Hudley Flipside

The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing

All money from book sales flows into a pool-bank to be put forth towards “in-process;”  Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine the Narrative Documentary Film.

Epeisodion One… between the songs are the staff punks. Those who created a music fanzine.

Below are two independent publishers. I am included with other writers. A compilation of stories to share. Happy Happy!

Rare Bird Books.

HoZac Books.