Right now there is a whole lot of Leo in the 8th House,
The Moon, Sun, Jupiter and Mercury.
Scorpio is patronizing or stinging
A regeneration that has meaning
Somewhere someplace in someone and many?
I pay attention to the movement of the planets. With my hand held device and application Celeste 1.1 it is easy to do. This is an interesting impulse to observe every day. I have pulled forth this cosmic motif and wonder.
Before saturation of words on the internet and before the underground resonance grew on making books the old-fashioned way… there was a silent breathing in.
Living in a tree house apartment in the heat of summer with the sound of a noisy air conditioner; created moments of summer that danced by too slowly. Since we were not in the best part of town my family did not visit. So, I produced fun projects to do with my oldest son (anywhere from 3 to 6 years old). We recycled most of the materials, cereal boxes, and cardboard.
All aspects of these books are handmade…only the paper and typing stray from this theme. I at one time had several of these books all around the place. Finally in the last year I brought them all together. All are here, finished books mixed with some at various stages of completion. Years ago, I gave one to my dad on his birthday. The small purplish one in the image above. The little book sat on parents’ hearth for years until his death and I now have it back.
Filling the pages with my watercolor paintings and typed poems, son and I had fun putting them together. We painted the covers with acrylic paint and mod podge, and correlated the inside papers, and stapled this all together.
The simple joys of life are ones that are creative, progressive and quaint.
During the heat of summer the sound of air conditioning muffled the nearby gang screams… but we created something special together. Two of the books have now come to rest on our hearth, my heart is there also.
Been going to the same place,
Smells like the Santa Monica hills in summer,
It is a sweat lodge.
Sweating and cooling in each windy pass,
They are taming me,
Lizard and dragon-fly!!
Driving south on Topanga Canyon Blvd. a parked car pulls quickly out in front of me. He is not a normal man driving a car, as I see and dreadfully feel: but who is driving this black rather small sedan?
July 5th 2014 real event.
Shopping on Saturday at 1 PM is not a thing I usually do. I have to do my chores. Instead of walking down to the stream to gather berries and water to put in a jar and basket and them put on my head, I go shopping at a supermarket. Driving away down the asphalt jungle I hear the large watermelon moving ‘round in the back of the car.
“Damn I did not secure it properly!”
I held a vision in my mind’s eye of cutting the watermelon open in half. Propping it round as a big bowl of cold watermelon soup.
“Ah, that sounds refreshing!!”
Putting all the groceries away, I then walked over to open the washing machine and put the cat’s beach towels into the drier. I like to make sure their beach towels are clean, fluffy and ready for them. They like to sleep outside on their beach towels in the cool of the morning and evening.
This summer he, the man I live with, bought me more books to read. The esoteric door of magical and syncretistic events awaken in me again. Those places that sleep slow and drowsy in my deepest Psyche. Yes, I saw him again too. That man in the rather small black sedan who pulled right in front of me.
I drove around him just to see who it might be. I wish I didn’t because as I looked at him, he looked back at me as we raced south on Topanga Canyon Blvd. He, dressed in black, gave me a sideways glance. A deep confrontational look, with his black hat, beard, and dark Noir focus, at me!!!
The esoteric doors are open, and the game is on. When one plays with the archaic mysteries the archetypal characters come to play. I have not seen him, Mephistopheles, in a long time. He is darkness incarnate! The only cure for this is the dew of a red rose.
For now I type in my cave filled with a stream of cool air and also read, do my housewife chores while trying to forget the large consuming cartoonish eyes reflecting my face back at me.
Memories are strange. Real experience, imagination and day dreaming in a few moments of time, take on a flavor in one’s mind. These all can be as a massive inward thinking collage blended together. What is it in us which differentiates the difference?
Husband and son went for a run around the block. Dusk was close at hand by an hour or so. The knock at the door took me off guard. I went to open the door thinking that son locked the door and wanted back in.
I opened the door and there stood mom and dad. My heart raced to see them standing there as if nothing had happened. I invited them in.
“We were at Trader Joes and thought we would stop by,” said mom.
“I see. Isn’t there one closer by your home?”
I looked at mom and she looked at dad.
“I wanted a certain type of beer and they ran out, so we went to the other. I think mom wanted to stop by and see the work you are doing on the pool!!”
“Ok, well as you see they took off all the plaster and next week they will pull out the skimmer and put in the new Blue tiles.”
“Oh that will look nice honey,” said mom
“Yes, the kids still swimming?” Dad said with a heavy voice.
“Yes they still enjoy it as well as myself!!”
I then asked if they wanted some coffee. Dad said a beer would be nice. Mom gave him an intense stare and said,
“Got a glass. I’ll have some too ‘cause I am thirsty.”
I cut up some Irish cheese and they had a few bites. Dad got antsy and said,
“Well gal, I think it is time to go, we have some groceries in the back of the car and they need to be put in the fridge!!”
I’ve learned not to fight this behavior of my parents; of coming and leaving in a short amount of time.
As in a whoosh of wind they were gone.
Son came back. Then about fifteen minutes later husband came back. I did not tell them about my parents visit. Mirage, a human mirage of brief moments that now seem real in my memories. Even though Mom and Dad passed away…a few long years now.
