I have often been afraid or uneasy or did not believe in competition. The means of doing anything is an obligation I took for myself and the world a long time ago. Acknowledgement is a new feeling for me, and I like it.
What really turns me on here is that so many countries unite through sharing their art in a competition without hate or dismay. That the world can join here in peace and beauty and reflection.
This is so good. That is why I love my WordPress site. It lets individuals communicate all around the world. Communication is the key to peace and though we can get angry, expression is always best. Creative expression is our superior and the best of human nature.
* I placed as a Finalist in the April 2023 Competition. So much art… yet the renegotiation is satisfying. Below is the inspiration. A quote from a book.
“One day, having noticed my covetous gaze, he presented me with a tiny golden pendant of my own-two bees entwined together around a tiny honeycomb. It glistened in the sun light, so rich and burnished that I thought the minute drop of honey would melt and slide away in the heat.”
Daedalus gives Ariadne a gift. ~ Ariadne Page 7, by Jennifer Saint.
It says pencil in the competition. It is pencil, sharpie pen ink and watercolor.
“Entries from many countries across the world: South Korea, Hong Kong, Ukraine, USA, Taiwan, Austria, Italy, Canada, Poland, Singapore, South Africa and Portugal. Enjoy the show and thank you for expressing an interest in our competition.”
A reflection on Pluto in Aquarius … prose, experience and the imagination.
“What exactly is a computer chip?
A computer chip is a packaged set of electronic circuits printed onto a thin, circular wafer made of the element silicon, one of the most abundant elements in the earth’s crust. These electronic circuits work with the help of transistors, which serve as tiny switches that turn an electrical current on or off. These operations are the basis for all modern computing.”
“What are the 7 functions of the heart? The heart plays the following roles in the human body:
Pumping oxygenated blood into other body parts. Circulating hormones and other essential substances to different parts of the body. Receiving oxygen-poor blood and pumping it into the lungs for oxygenation, transporting waste products from the body. Maintaining blood pressure.”
The new Prometheus
A computer chip
Our Heart pumps blood.
A novel
Our technology
Life for all.
Frankenstein’s Monster: “By degrees I made a discovery of still greater moment. I found that these people possessed a method of communicating their experience and feelings to one another by articulate sounds. I perceived that the words they spoke sometimes produced pleasure or pain, smiles or sadness, in the minds and countenances of the hearers. This was indeed a godlike science, and I ardently desired to become acquainted with it.”
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein
I remember one rainy night when a storm was brewing overhead. My computer was turned off, yet the room lit up as thunder broke close to our car. I stood in the dark room at that moment and witnessed my computer turn on without a password. I saw my husband’s yahoo emails open up and I saw much more before my gaze. I walked over and pulled the plug. It went dark as the room and the storm rumpled past us.
Was it only a surge of electricity that ran through my computer that night? Electricity animates many things and gives life.
“It’s not the love you make. It’s the love you give.” ~ Nikola Tesla
I am studying the astrological effects that Pluto in Aquarius will have on humanity and the world. I read a lot about the underworld, technology, transformation and even the word rebellion.
I think back upon Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Novel, Frankenstein. I realize the same old idea has haunted me from the get-go. Who’s soul did Frankenstein’s monster have?
A computer chip, a human heart all needs energy or electricity for life. Be it in a story or on the computer I am using now or my heart that is beating.
I remember a dream I had years ago, and I learned in my dream that Pluto Loves Persephone.
All this foresight, astrology and science and I find the word “Love” lacking.
As though electricity flowing through everything is incapable of love?
Maybe we are approaching a time when we see that love is electricity. If we become aware of it as it is flowing into our unconscious and shadowy places, and into those endlessly created computer chips.
I have solved my mystery. The Modern Prometheus is a higher level of love and if electrify is fast, it is also explosive, it is also hot and gives of itself freely.
As the dear Monster observed,
“This was indeed a godlike science, and I ardently desired to become acquainted with it.”
“The electrical stimulus travels down through the conduction pathways and causes the heart’s ventricles to contract and pump out blood. The 2 upper chambers of the heart (atria) are stimulated first and contract for a short period of time before the 2 lower chambers of the heart (ventricles).”
Intellect is so valuable but now comes the time of the heart brain.
I am observing bees outside my window and see that in a way they live the perfect life. They work and collect nectar. They transform it into form and home and community. They can change their sex if need be. This is the best symbol of electricity based on love.
Still the individual bees are important. Still the soul, spirit and psyche are there. To learn and grow.
Dionysos…deep amethyst, crimson and wine-dark red, emerald and lapis…lavish velvets and brocades, the rich fur of a wildcat and the delicate warmth of the flower’s petal…He is the sap that bleeds from the tree and the golden viscosity of the gift of the mother bees—honey.
Aguilar, A. Marina. Alchemy of The Heart: The Sacred Marriage of Dionysos & Ariadne. Chiron Publications. Kindle Edition.
In Greek religion, the staff was carried by the votaries of Dionysus. Euripides wrote that honey dripped from the thyrsos staves that the Bacchic maenads carried. The thyrsus was a sacred instrument at religious rituals and fêtes.
Light and shadow magic comes to visit at different times in life.
The wind was strong and pushed over my angel solar light. I just got home from shopping as I was looking up at Jupiter and the waxing moon.
I have been changing my routines a bit. I go shopping at dusk now and take my showers in the morning or in the middle of the day.
Taking morning walks is something different too.
When I saw the angel at an angle, I ran to fix it when I noticed the shadow playing on the wall behind it.
I said aloud, “A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus.”
I will let the angel be.
I took a picture and played with the image on Adobe Photo Express.
On Fallbrook and Victory in the San Fernando Valley
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Life is so contrary and beginning and ending all the time. The stars seem stable, as they dance their astrological dance. The moon and sun and seasons are very dependable but not the storms or the opposite whispers of joy and enlightenment we may find. This earth will always be a contrary place sweetened with continuity and music.
Yesterday before the rain, Sara and oldest son walked over from their apartment. They are counting their steps. Later they left and we decided to join them halfway on their journey home. A longer walk than my usual mile per day.
It was easy all the way until we said goodbye and then we walked slowly onward, and we headed home, husband, youngest son, and I.
Would we get something to eat?
“No, it is past 6 PM and I don’t like eating much after then.”
That is what they get for always asking what MAMA wants.
On the way with Sara and oldest son I noticed a broken book on the ground. The pages danced below our feet for a long while.
I picked up three of the pages as a focused random moment of finding something wandering and enlightening me from the dirty street of trash. On this dark cold evening of winter.
A man was covered with such trash in the middle of the sidewalk next to the shopping mall and restaurants. He was pretending to sleep as cars raced by and we walked around him.
I sadly declared.
“He is going to get mighty wet when the rain hits?”
Husband quickly responded,
“He is most likely waiting for the shopping mall to close down. I am sure he has a safe place there.”
My feet got sore, and my back ached and howled as we headed home.
Now today I read the book pages tossed on the ground like leaves in a storm.
One thing that stood out were the lyrics for a song.
The pages are filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Someone was looking for their roots, history, and family.
I thought about my own family history. I think this is a push to get going with my own pages filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Hope from lyrics. A song inspiring us to dance to the hopeful dream of music.
Stephen StillsEd Kuepper by Hudley Jock Blyth, Courtesy of Hudley Los Angeles Flipside Fanizne # 54 Anniversary Issue (Replica)
Stephen Stills “For What It’s Worth,” “Bluebird” and “Rock & Roll Woman” are three of my favorites moving songs performed by Buffalo Springfield’
“Nights in Venice,” “Demolition Girl “and “Church of Indifference” are just fucking profound songs.
Jock Blyth playing his hardcore punk sounds through “Freak,” “Pins and Needles” and “Stormchaser”
Songs that sample their sound… I love them through and through. Thanks!
Stephen Stills born Dallas–Fort Worth metroplex, the fourth-largest metropolitan area; Buffalo Springfield 1966–1968.
Ed Kuepper: Edmund Kuepper was born on 20 December 1955 in Bremen, then part of West Germany. His family migrated to Australia in the 1960s and settled in Brisbane. The Saints 1976-1979.
Colin “Jock” Blyth: GBH were early pioneers of British street punk, often nicknamed “UK82”, along with Discharge, Broken Bones, The Exploited, and The Varukers (Charged) GBH: 1978–present.
As I awoke from my existential childhood there are three guitarists who have had a profound wake-up call on my soul, body, and mind. From generations the 60s through to the present. Making me happy how these three guys are still moving around the planet and continue to play their songs.
Though I never had the privilege of meeting Stephen Stills, or Ed Kuepper I have met Jock Blyth.
I am friends with Ed on Facebook and Instagram and maybe my annoyance as a fan has zapped him now and then. Because my only addiction is the band The Saints.
I don’t ride my generations as a cult but as scenes mingling amongst sounds and friends. In real time, life and on the internet. The 1960s, 1970s and beyond had the most influence on my life as the DNA that makes up my soul. As an older senior citizen, I am pretty well saturated. Open and way past the need to wake up now it is the sound of these three that calm me, set me free and make me feel bitchin’.
I was overwhelmed and happy watching Billy Porter perform “For What It’s Worth” with Stephen Stills at the 2020 Democratic National Convention. Or seeing Buffalo Springfield on an old episode of Mannix from the 1960s.
Or being moved deep down when listening to Ed perform The Aints song “You’ll Always Walk Alone” on You Tube.
Or watching Jock talk about Tripel is a beer style with roots in the Belgian Trappist beer tradition on Facebook as GBH tours Northwestern Europe.
No one can really possess a symbolic object since the prime function of symbolism is not accumulation and retention, but communication by way of exchange.
de Riencourt, Amaury. Woman and Power in History . Honeyglen Publishing Limited. Kindle Edition.
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.
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?”
– A Flopside Comic- crew rhetorical question !
Over the last few years I have work with the image, ideal, psychology, mythology or biology of Baubo. I found out about her from a course I took at Mount Saint Mary’s College in Los Angeles for a Master in Religious Studies. It was a course entitled archeology and female goddesses.
I made a FLopside Comic awhile back with my art. A FLopside Bubblegum comic.
“A gentleman with the mad soul of an Irish convict poet’: remembering Chris Bailey, and the blazing comet that was The Saints.”
~ John Willsteed
Published: April 11, 2022 9.44pm EDT.
“Chris Bailey isn’t the first of our creative children to leave this life behind and move on into memory. With their passing, like the returning comet, the past is freshly illuminated, allowing us to look back at our young lives. Back when the future was broad in front of us, urged on by voices like Bailey’s to open our eyes and see the world.”
Rendering of the band The Saints. Hudley Flipside, 2010.
I have often written that the band The Saints is one of my only addictions in my life. After the death of Chris Bailey, (now one year ago).
I have been grieving him and a general time shift. The 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, 2010s and now. Over 40 years. This band led me on a path into a different realm of being. I found a bunch of misfits like me.
I found my voice and I awoke from a kind of existential youthful experience to find myself and my soul. Music, friends, and a punk community that still holds my heart. Yet also knowing Chris Bailey was born the same time and so close to mine … we share these same generations or ten-year changes.
Youth to adulthood and being senior citizens. As this post explains so much more in an indirect way too. In my grief I decided to do something that I do once in a while to soothe my soul. I reached out to Carl Jung books. What came to mind yesterday was something from one of Carl Jung’s Black Books. Volume two page 175-6.
I read from the last paragraph. I call it random reading. The intuitive response is amazing to me. Encouraging action also. So, with this so much is shared, and I am content to move on past my grief. Into a new season of life knowing that,
“the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.” (p.162) The Black Books, Volume Two, Carl Jung
Life endures … this gives me hope maybe like finding the Sun!
“In this moment the enormous tension was released and like rain it swept away [57/58] everything that was tensed, too highly strung. And soon sleep returned and brought with it a curiously beautiful image.” {138}
“Forms walked clad in white silk in a colored atmosphere. Each surrounded by a strangely fragrant, glowing tinted aura, some reddish, the others blueish and greenish.” {139}
{138} “This paragraph was replaced in LN by “Then I had a second vision.” ” (p.162).
Picture.. reversed.
The Saints (Barry Francis, Ivor Hay, Janine Hall, Bruce Callaway, Chris Bailey) at The Hero of Waterloo, Sydney. 1980. Picture by Judi Dransfield Kuepper.) Image taken from article by John Willsteed,
“Jung recounted this dream to Aniela Jaffé and commented upon it as follow: This is some kind of in-between realm (the term definitely occurs in the original version of the dream) The idea was that if one is confronted with the shadow- as was the case through the experience of Siegfried’s dream then the idea comes:
I enter into a twilight: I am this and yet also something else. And this doubleness an abdication of the unconscious, which reached strangely far beyond me.
Like a saint’s halo- This has a strange effect on the attitude toward the human being.
If one is in the company of several persons, and one knows them and knows about their shadows, one then sees these people as they are, but are also something entirely different. They are surrounded by a strange sphere. They live in a strange, light-colored sphere, which circumscribes their ‘other’ state.
This seemed to me to be like a vision of the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.”{139} (MP, p. 170)
The reminder of this entry was replaced in LN by “I know, I have stridden across the depths. Through guilt I have become newborn.” (p.162)
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