The Rosy Fellowship and Carl Jung

In the early 1980s as a wild crazy looking punk chick The Rosy Fellowship let me in and loved me even though I was very wild. They included me and I grew to love them, trust them, and learned from them.

Life is good and sometimes it is bad. Today I had an old-fashioned Marie Calender’s chicken pot pie and I listened to the Saints. One of my favorite songs drummed by Ivory Hays…

For over forty years I have had both Max Heindel and Carl Jung books dancing upon my bookshelves.

A friend brought them together for me in a book. I had already brought them together in myself and often that contrary element was there. Yet the two I speak of have come together in so many profound ways.

The holy grail, the philosophers stone, astrology, philosophy, psyche, soul, myths, magic, mysticism, occultism, good character building and individuation. Hope from despair, unconsciousness towards consciousness. The strange elements of light, darkness, and shadow play. The real world of freedom and responsibility.

At the same time, I have been asked to go back to the beginning. To start over to be punished for all my studying, prayers, and service. What was inspiration having all turned to dogma.

In the book I speak of it has brought together Max and Jung through a journey like mine.

For Jung it was a walk with astrology and theosophy where he found Max and the Rosicrucian Fellowship in Oceanside California. He took a correspondence course to learn Astrology there. Me too, how wonderful this is to know.

I also took the same train from Los Angeles to Oceanside for visits. The same journey as Max and his wife Augusta Foss. She too was a profound astrologer.

I knew that they held a connection within me but now I have the proof outside of me with facts, documents and much more.

Jung included everyone with his words and the more I study him and his works I find a similar rich world that is within me and outside of me… both Max and Jung helped me to come forward from inside of me to outside of me… as my soul and my creativity… in a punk controlled measure like a good Saints song.

The world is in a constant state of contraries. It is up to each person to find balance. Today is a contrary day for me of great joy and great sadness.

Rock Doodles Summer Fun

This is a Flopside Bubblegum Comic I did a few years back. I like to doodle and when I had my HP Printer it came with an online creative app that offered many different options for creative endeavor. The left and right handed kind.

Today Kerry Love Canal, as I affectionately think of him, asked for my rock drawings to add to his site. I may take him up on his offer. Back to doing what I do best, doodle.

SO, here is one I resurrect for Kerry.

Now I must find a creative app that goes with my new Kyocera Printer. I think the best of life is having creative endeavors.

“We Have To Play With Ourselves”

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Click on image box to be tickled by Punk Rock Singers Gone Mad!

Promoting books is not some big gorilla

To publish books by oneself is to find a place which works with an ideal of freedom and responsibility. Working with other publishers did not work out for me. If you want to define it in a nutshell doing it yourself is what punk is. Yup!

They had to do it themselves…. Or D.I.Y.~ cause no one else worked with them the way they wanted to do it. No one else was interested.

We punks created that concept and this created our scene.

Now many people approach me wanting to know the story.

Here is an excerpt from my little memoir that came out a couple years ago. My Punkalullaby is a desirable little punk number. It is not perfect because stories aren’t meant to be perfect … because stories are just stories.

I was becoming one with My Punkalullaby. I coined the word punkalullaby. It means that the whole time I was in the punk rock scene, from beginning to end, it was all about a song. One song to the next pulled me throughout the scene. Once that loud music got into my blood there was nothing like it. I was socially awkward, wild, and morally uncultivated. I was a perfect product for the Los Angeles punk rock scene because I was someone that the normal culture had completely abandoned. Yet here I was, welcomed into an underground counterculture. ~           

Page 17, My Punkalullaby

And though over the years I have tried to hide, ignore, and give it the finger, the punk scene always catches me with a huge tussle to the floor. A revealing movement of love, music, and friends pull me back in.

Promoting books through a small publishing company is not some big gorilla. It is a nudge like a pint at the local pub, a cup of coffee or sharing a yummy cupcake. No big deal really.  Makes me happy. It is amusing to me. Hopefully, whoever finds this little punk number will be inspired to walk through the door. Finding books like this is a pass time that many of us share. The love of reading a story is part of who we are. It is how My Punkalullaby is modeled. To all the books we find or that find us…. that inspire us.

Below is from 1984 KFJC Flipside Radio Hosted by Hudley Flipside consisting of 13 tapes in all.

Tape one.

Tape One track one and two… original cassette tape converted into a CD and upgraded to here… all taken from original cutting edge punk rock records (songs) owned by Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine…. for free promotion and review. 62: 30 minutes with Tape One: OHL opens with Verbrannte Erde. Mini Interview with (Minor Threat / Ian MacKaye, The Faith / Alec MacKaye and Glen E. Friedman/ Photographer Al Flipside is on this tape and Big Frank from Golden Voice,) Eddie & The Subtitles, GBH, Wire Pink Flag, Live Flipside Video with Toxic Reasons and reading of Kahlil Gibran the theme song Valley of the Dolls and much more. Thanks….

My Good Familiars or the Winged Insect Party.

It was that time of year when the shadow comes to visit. I am not a novice on these matters.

Flying in the room the winged insect flue up to the broad support beam between the kitchen and the living room. Dark, lively, and awkward as an insect this bug seemed, it was nothing compared to the sound our yellow tabby was making.

A continuous sweet little meow yelp that was heralding that this cat party ritual had begun !

Next the other three cats came into focus upon this amazement. The two black kittens Poobah and Whisky and then Mikey the noodle love cat. He is grey and his green eyes glowed with the look of attack.

It was late and we did not know how the insect came in the house. The lights outdoors must have lured it into the house somehow. We have a loose screen in the back bedroom.

The cats were jumping on and up to heights to reach the bug. It was brown as a water bug, or cockroach or may have been a beetle of some sort.

The beetle flew into the kitchen to hide. The cats did their rounds. We thought how we could move the insect outdoors into the hot summer night. We turned off all the lights except for the one at the small entrance into the house. As moths fly to fire so this little creature may take the same bate. It did fly out a few times only to fly back as the cats followed it. No luck.

I looked back into the kitchen to where the insect flew, and I swear I saw a cat on the stove.

“Hey, look over there one of the cats is on the stove, it may not be a good place for the cat.”

No cat was there. I did take a picture and saw the dark outline of a cat with white eyes. It was very scary. I thought maybe some darkness flew into the house this evening.  The cats alerted me to something more than just an insect. They are good at that.

I did a brief sage cleansing of our home. I said a prayer while moving throughout the rooms. I especially focused on the kitchen where I saw the shadow animal. I saw the dark shadow outside our kitchen window as I closed it. It was told to leave and not come back. I deleted the image I took as well. A symbolic action.

I then fell asleep on the couch.

A deep underbelly monotonous growl woke me up. I listened and looked around carefully to see where the sound was coming from. Seems one of the little black kittens had the insect contained on the ground. I quickly threw a towel over the insect and ran to the front door to put the creature outside. I saw it struggling on its back. I pushed it over.

Entering the house, the cats were redirected with some treats from the cupboard. They must have enjoyed the insect with wings party.

The cats had their fun. An exorcism needs to be performed now and then and my cats do enjoy the process.

fascist system tied in with a towing impounding company

I wrote to my government representatives and to Sacramento a year ago. No response and here we are going through the underbelly of a police officer fascist system tied in with a towing impounding company that steals your car for ransom.

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A nice Saturday afternoon and we noticed our truck was gone. We called the police and contacted our AAA insurance provider. We thought our truck was stolen. Then this nasty story revealed itself for the darkness that it is.

We have had problems with the DMV during the last year and a half. Lost information, driver licenses never showing up after being paid online and a non-issued renewal notice was not mailed to us. This causing our registration to be about five months behind. Wow what criminals we be?

We went out of Los Angeles County to renew our Real IDs and Drivers Licenses. In a small-town place surrounded by oil jacks, open tree farms and the desert. I really have grown to like Taft California. Has the small-town feeling showing us what it is like to go through a pandemic? Yet the lines and the service at their DMV is short, curt, and done in an hour.

In Los Angeles County the DMV experience is hell on earth. Long lines, rudeness and a heart attack are leering around the corner.

So, we have found a way that moves around this devil. Los Angeles County needs more DMV buildings to service the increase in population that has grown. But no, how could they be that thoughtful or nice. They refer us to an online system that is currently corrupted. Lost files, information and my car renewal and driver license all uncomfortably gone or wicked wrong.  I wrote to my government representatives and to Sacramento a year ago. No response and here we are going through the underbelly of a police officer fascist system tied in with a towing impounding company that steals your car for ransom.

A simple fix it ticket is the decent thing to do. Especially it would have alerted me to the fact that something is wrong. I did not get my car renewal.

No, I am going to renew all three cars we own at the beginning of next year with a certified check. I will fill out the form and mail it in.

Our truck that was impounded is a family car that was parked in front of our home. The police knew that. All it took was a knock at the door, but I was told they do not do that. They enforce laws and the towing companies charge fees. It is the type of scam that you see in the movies. It is real here in Los Angeles and it is a dark story.

So being that it happened on a Saturday we know we had to wait until Monday to get anything done. The renewal DMV online told me that the trucks VIN and license plate were invalid. I finally found a service online called California Need Tags. I paid out fee. Why maybe no drive to Taft California.

I called the police and they told me no I needed a one day driving permit to drive our car to get it a smog check. Oh yes that was cleverly added on to the dark equation of stressful possibilities. So on to Taft California tomorrow to get a one-day pass to get our car out and pay the ransom.  

So, the last dark tunnel to check out is if the Taft DMV will honor the registration fees we paid recently online. We were charged late fees too do not forget. Even though the DMV never sent me a renewal and I could not renew my registration online.

Update: They did not so we had to pay them for registration again.  We wanted to pay our other truck off. The registration is due in September. Yet they told us we could not because it is too early. We have not received a renewal notice either. I usually receive them about 5 months in advance. So, I am overly concerned. I will go to my local AAA to register our other truck in August.

Think about it, for only 5 months late in car registration they can take your car and impound it. Ya you may have the pink slip, and insurance and the car may be parked in front of your home… they can take it.  Even when the DMV fucks up… you cannot… that is a double standard that does not add up. It is called corruption.

The nightmare is over but please be careful. They are all on the take… the police are in the business of “grand theft auto” and holding your car for ransom.

 Mayor Eric Garcetti

Brad Sherman

Gavin Newsom

The older woman trilogies… I am a nerd too.

All it took was to wear one of my UFO T-Shirts. My Mothman or my large green Alien T-shirt with a UFO flying saucer in the eye of the alien. I figured it out it did not take much. They would tell their stories.

At a Home Depot I walked around looking for something. The young man walked up.

“Hey, I like your shirt.”

“Oh Thanks.”

“I was just talking about UFOs with my friend last night.”

I looked around and noticed he was an employee. He was tall with a funky beard. Had the nerdy youthful thing going on.

“See I drew this last night on some note paper.”

I looked and saw a doodling of a UFO like the one on my T-Shirt.

“Wow that is so cool.”

Then the young man got close and said,

“You never know?”

“Know what?

His face got very nerdy indeed and said,

“You never know if you are talking to an extraterrestrial or not? They may be everywhere.”

I love T-Shirts. I wear them until they literally fall of my body. The above shirt is almost there. Yet of all the shirts I wear It is the young men nerds that always must tell me a story of something real and bizarre. I mean if I was a youngster and wanted to meet guys. No brainer I would wear a UFO Shirt.

Today I was at the local Ralph’s and the check out guy was instantly pulled into my Mothman shirt. We talked about it, and he didn’t have to tell me he was really into stuff like that.

“Oh, this shirt, ya you can see it everywhere on Facebook. I just had to get it.”

He then stopped and talked about some story of a Banshee. He was going to go to some town where there is supposed to be a Banshee in the mountains. But canceled his trip because of the pandemic.

“She shrieks in the hills before people die.”

“It is an old Irish folklore that seems to have come over here.’

He shook his head with enthusiasm as most young nerds do.

T-shirts have the power still and that is good…. It can bring nerds and fans together in strange ways.

I also was at a Furniture store looking around for a new bed with my green alien shirt and another employee came up to me and started to share his otherworldly stories about Aliens, UFOs, and such. I am always fascinated by these nerdy guys who love this stuff. It may be true … extraterrestrials are everywhere.

“superb” or “wonderful”…

Hudley the crone

A juxtaposed desire between two fellows I would like to meet someday… B. Taupin and E. Kuepper and well at least their music did.

In the heat of the summer

Better call out a plumber

Turn on the steam pipe

Cool me off

With your big crime fighters

And your newspaper writers

Still need a drugstore

To cure my buzz

~ Circle Jerks

My “drugstore to cure my buzz” has evolved into writing. It cures so many of my problems. In the heat of this summer 2021, I was thinking upon two fellows that I would love to meet someday.

While driving the hills above Santa Barbara and beyond we found many highways less traveled.

“If it came to pass that they should ask

What could I tell them

Would they criticize behind my back?

Maybe I should let them

Oh, if only then and only then

They would understand…”

~ Songwriters: E. John / B. Taupin

We passed by the Roundup Ranch where Bernie Taupin lived for years yet sold a few years back. I know he loves horses and that is one thing that I like about him. I love his lyrics which were a big part of my life growing up as a cowgirl in the mid-1970s.  

“Are you feeling fine?

Have you really got the time

To bother to write one line?

Don’t lay you on the line

It’s easy when you’re the missing link”

~ The Saints, Songwriters: E. Kuepper

Another fellow is Ed Kuepper. His guitar sound literally woke me up and The Saints lyrics amazed me during the late 1970s as I transformed through many growing pains of horses, boyfriends and finally in finding my opus of punk rock’s dysfunctional triumph.

I devoted many hours to Elton John album covers. Memorizing the lyrics with my girlfriends. Wondering who these English fellows were that seemed to sing about American things. It was more the feel I got wondering and experiencing the music. It seemed sacred to us, and it still does.

Just recently I viewed one of Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s songs being used in a commercial. (Tiny Dancer – Elton John: vaping in the spotlight!) It was absurd and disheartening. So, writing and affirming the good that this song once inspired will cast out this demon commercial’s hypocrisy and justification for cancer.

Ed Kuepper has never played in the USA. The Saints are one of my favorite bands. As I say my only addiction. I think maybe we have some strange connection being my dad was stationed in Adelaide Australia during WWII. He was a captain pilot.

I wrote a short novella of my days with my horse the white mustang Sony. I dedicated the book to Elton John and Bernie Taupin. I did finally send him a message by way of my Instagram account. I never received a response. I may someday. I did get close enough to reach out … maybe?

I cannot tell you how many times I have reached out to people I admire. I have met many of them and received letters back such as Henry Winkler (rip) who sent me an image of him in a Hawaiian shirt, well there went my hardcore Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli.  

Bill Clinton is the only politician that wrote back. I sent him a watercolor image of a rainbow that my oldest son painted at age 5. My family in-law on the maternal side, who are nasty conservatives, did not care. I say fuck that. I am proud.

This is not about fame, money, or anything like that. It is an applied punk experience on two fellows I have learned to love through their songs. So, I have now defined what punk rock is… bully bully… “superb” or “wonderful.”

Bernie Taupin Roundup Ranch

I just do not think this is good…it is sick.

The prayer or ritual before having a tooth extracted!

watercolor of Ash tree onside by parents’ back window by Hudley

In Ancient times before a tree was cut down a prayer or ritual was performed. To alert the living thing or spirit or elemental which lived there that change was coming.

I also think we need such a prayer or ritual before a tooth is extracted.

A tree and a tooth are similar in that they are living and deeply rooted. The tree in the earth and the tooth in our flesh in our being. They are part of an ecosystem. On the whole of a community of living things. A tree is a home to birds, bees and maybe an owl or possum and the elemental that lives there as a vital living substance. As ancient people knew…

“The Plane of Elemental Mind (A) comprise the state or condition and degree of mental and vital development of a class of entities unknown to the average man but recognized to occultist. They are invisible to the ordinary senses of man, but, nevertheless, exist and play their part of the Drama of the Universe. Their degree of intelligence is between that of the mineral and chemical entities on the one hand, and of the entities of the plant kingdom on the other.”

The Kybalion, Hermetic Philosophy. Page 78

Not to forget to mention the more subtle elements of a tooth.

Dental records are used sometimes to identify a person. Such as when the Iceman, a ruthless gangster killer, was brought to justice. Do to this very fact. A person killed was identified by their teeth records which broke a long case of killings.  

When a tree is cut there is weeping in a community or ecosystem … when a tooth is pulled our being weeps. Our psyche questions this Lovecraftian horror. I know because I have experienced three teeth extrusions so far in my life. It is like a rape of the body and perceptions. Our bodily organs shiver and the bad wasps of our bacteria go in for attack. Pure trauma.

How does a prayer for a tree or tooth work you ask?

With good foresight it alerts a trees body or tooth that death is coming. Time to flee and move on. The aura is bound elsewhere or peepers the environment for change.

For a tooth it may be saying,

“Attention white blood cells.”

“Though we have been with you all of our life together. I am dying and am leaving the comfort of my home.”

Physical, mental, emotional and spiritual alter ness!”

An awesome responsibility. You see each tooth has a good relationship with a certain organ or place within our individual ecosystem. This is a process that a prayer or ritual must do! Preparing a trees spirit and our tooth, our psyche, for an experience like rape. To pull a tree or tooth from its lovely home rather quickly and with much force.

The prayer or ritual before having a tooth extracted!


You are dying

You will be seized.

You have been with me

Since our creation together.

Made up from generations

Of ancestors.

From star dust and good foods

Of calcium and DNA

We are one

Yet separate.

Your roots will be pulled out

I honor days of chewing.

And glowing smiles

To good conversation, candy, and pizza.

To your body soul and spirit

I release you from my mouth

my loving tooth friends!

Bless you,

To the hormones which inform you

To your root, neck, and crown

To nerves, blood, and vessels.

I release you.

The Seminary Of Praying Mantis Publishing Logo

Golden Big Mama Mantis in our front tree

A good amount of time, years, has passed since I first saw the upside-down praying mantis shadow on my computer desk. I looked up and there she was looking in at me. And so, a partnership began. I took her little image as an inspiration for the eventual name of my publishing company.  

Often, she came to visit on her tree. It is now since died and been cut down, yet the original bush is still there in front of my computer room office. Once the bush was an arbor hanging over the tree. A lovely purple and green mosaic. My place of creativity always seems to be a bedroom converted into an office. So much dreaming, creating and inspiration… and dancing has occurred here.

So, on this day of the Summer Solstice 2021 I honor her…. Golden Big Mama Mantis…

The Seminary Of Praying Mantis Publishing.


Some anti- amber moments…

The 99 Cent store had our Figgy Newtons which came in many flavors. Some of my best memories with my little son made those challenging days exceptionally good indeed.

Picture by papa John Cornell

After the Punk scene, after the east coast, and getting married again and having my first babe, was the time I went to Los Angeles Valley College. I had a few courses under my belt. Yet Valley College had an opening for childcare. So, I enrolled. After this I transferred as a junior into CSUN.

Valley college was exceedingly difficult for me. I was older than most students and I found many of the professors my age or younger. Incognito and acting dumb to get a humanities degree was not worth it. Yet in time as I entered higher learning one must have all the accredited courses.

One course was a journalism course. Having a 21-year-old ask me if I could answer the phone and take notes boiled my blood or having a journalism professor reach into the bottom of her big bag to find my ungraded paper was a wonderment, where the torching of her body came to mind. I waited half the semester for a grade on that paper to pass her course.

Nevertheless, the worst was the power play by a 20 something photographer who thought he was the guy. He would stand behind me in class and smell my newly washed hair. It was long and red back then.

He said he liked what I wrote,

“But it does not go well with my image. I will have to take hers instead.”

As she sat in his lap. He looked up at me as if he thought I was going to take on this sex challenge.

I realized I was dealing with children and walked away. It was a strange juxtapose of power… once having my good share of power to having none.

As having a child. I thought I would be treated with due respect and honor. I loved every second of being a mother of two babes. Yet I was treated like the worst of the worst by most people. All this holy mother crap melted my being. The only sacredness was how my babes and me loved each other.

Walking down Van Nuys Blvd. with my oldest in the front seat of a shopping cart made my days of cruising the same Blvd. as a teenager seem surreal.