Tag Archives: Depth Psychology

One drop of rain

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SEVEN YEARS ON WORDPRESS !!


th (18)idn’t speak much when I was young. Was not interesting in writing either. Only a few poems. I played with my friends, but I found it more and more difficult to communicate at school. I felt restricted, invisible or persecuted by my own peers. I was wild and not awake to the pounding of an education that seemed incredulous to me. I now realize I had foresight, creativity and a natural spiritualism that could not find contact. Nature was receptive! My mom and dad tried with lots of watercolors and paper.  A giant black board was painted in my room. Endless chalk drawings were created and erased, drawn and erased. The old player piano in the boys’ room is where I spent hours playing any song I wanted that I learned by heart only.


Vesta 001


Did I not express myself in school because of fear? Was it the constant fighting and alcoholism in my household which pushed my mind down into myself? Was it dyslexic, autism or a painful shyness that was the bewildering issue within me? We the children were not diagnosed back then.

Having foresight was a curse when no one listened!  I did not have the proper device , neither did I have the wise ability to  reach out  towards others. I did not have a voice!

Now at 60 I realize my heart & mind are mature and keen enough to reach my inward growing child. That is my reasoning currently to create a hub like The Seminary Of Praying Mantis.  To share my voice and reach a global community! I believe this is the truth. Finding one’s voice and sticking to it is wonderful. The last seven years WordPress has helped to make this happen for me.


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I am celebrating 7 years with WordPress. My HUB in a global community.

While spending a few hours observing nature this afternoon. I know that the many voices were loud and some subtle. The chirp-chirp birds, to the black crows on tall cypress trees. Above me high in the sky are the circling hawks and the commercial jets. Sounds of life. One drop of rain touched me. I am one drop of rain too.

I invite you to support The Seminary of Praying Mantis and celebrate with me. I have words to read, items for sale and images to make you laugh. I have grown as a writer, author and artist.  It is amazing that so many tools are available where one can publish ones’ works! It can be achieved very cheaply and sometimes even for free as with Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing. I have taken the core of my punk philosophy, wild nature, foresight and freedom to communicate with the world. I found a place to express myself. It is colorfully rewarding….

My Punkalullaby: The Seminary Of Praying Mantis (Punk Fanzine Memoir Book 1) http://a.co/2ZeXdAU


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Sting like a jelly-fish

Today while walking into Ralph’s super market I saw the familiar old lady under yellow plastic. She was holding a white tissue to her red nose. She sat in her wheelchair at a prime target getting her ‘a little sympathy’. She got mine. I went into the store and purchased a $1.95 Starbucks house coffee medium. I am still amazed that a ‘cup of joe’ costs so much now. I remember when it was 25 cents.

“I like watching Noir films,” I said to the barista. “It is a wonder in those films that a ‘cup of joe’ only coast five pennies.  Twenty-five cents got you a cup of coffee, a ham sandwich and a piece of pie.”

The barista smiled at me as I took the coffee, put in some cream and sugar and then headed towards the old lady in a wheelchair.

“Here is a cup of coffee, you look cold.?!”

“I don’t drink coffee it is bad for you.”

“Really I thought it would warm you up. Coffee is not as bad for you as you may think.”

“I have never had any.” She looked down to her right at a dirty bag of oranges. “It is all right I had an orange…I am fine.”

I was a bit upset. I never thought that she would reject a cup of coffee on such a cold and rainy day.

“Lady sometimes beggars can’t be choosers?!”

I realized that I could not reason with the lady. She had her right to say no.  So, I walked on remembering what an old myth taught me. All about a woman’s psyche.

As Persephone went on her journey, she was advised not to give anything to those needy people who asked for something along the way. It was important for her to hold on to her strength and parts of herself that were precious.

I guess I failed the test today.Then that sorrow thread pulled in me. I call it the thread of sorrow.

I think that our current society does not embrace their share of sorrow. That is why we have so many drug addicts and alcoholics. A social epidemic.

We all need to hold on to or embrace our threads of sorrow. It can pull hard. It can be an echo that mocks. It can sting like a jelly-fish. When we run from our share of sorrow, ignore it, or get lost in our addictions hating it, it only manifests in our world as a monster shadow. Creating hate, chaos and terrible politicians. That is why I love Jazz because it speaks to the human heart and soul. It embraces it’s share of sorrow.


Gallery

Age, shadow and beauty

This gallery contains 1 photos.

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 … Continue reading

Anthropomorphism

Here is my latest praying mantis caricature. A holiday greeting from long ago ancient times.

Attis brings Liberte’

At the darkness time of the year, the longest night, the winter solstice… here comes some ancient anthropomorphism… and praying mantis is here to make life so meaningful.


A restoring appeal…

After the Woolsey Fire Dec. 17, 2018

 

A restoring appeal bound for
the Santa Monica Mountains
The highway moves by way of serpentine.

Black mountains and summative clarity of once
Overgrown trees and sage,
Wild Promethean fennel and yucca plants.

Fog embraces
The black burned earth hills
Holy sprinkles of rain upon the concealed seeds.

scorn and unbelievable

Ritual is good. Songs bring in the seasons. In this dark time ‘song ritual’ help to ease the scorn and unbelievable with something sane and consistent.  The skins of my large white beans are shedding away as they boil in the pot. There are times when I feel like these large white beans.

Today during my heart focused breathing I was surprised to feel a pin point of joy dance upon my heart. Faces of love smiled before me and I was grateful. I cried for those released from this Earth, this planet.

What a mystery it all is. I talked to my oldest son. He said he was listening to a tape about the The Ten Hermetic Keys of Hermes Trismegistus.

The mental origin of the world and of man. 2 Corresponding harmonics. 3 Dynamics of alternation. 4 Bi-polarity and complementarity. 5 Cyclic repolarisation. 6 Cause and effect. 7 Gender. 8 The astrology of the Ogdoad. 9 The magic of the Ennead. 10 The alchemy of the Decad.

This caught me off guard. So I looked it up. I showed him my watercolor that contains this in a kind of alchemical way.


Watercolor Rendering by Hudley  (Azoth-1613-Basilius-Valentinus-Beatus-Georg-rebis)

I have this image hanging on the wall in the living room to remind me everyday. To show me that in this mystery of life, in all of this chaos and discord of life and death … light and darkness, there is a ritual that is beholding to us all.


Who’s Soul did Frankenstein’s monster have?

“‘…from that moment [he] declared everlasting war against the species, and more than all, against [Frankenstein] who had formed [him] and sent [him] forth to this insupportable misery.'” (Shelley, Frankenstein , Chapter 16, p. 121)
Once upon a time  I found the novel by Mary Shelley, Frankenstein, the new Prometheus.
I became friends with Frankenstein’s monster. He was not the film version because I looked to the quality of his brilliant soul.
I wrote a short story entitled, Who’s Soul did Frankenstein’s monster have? I put the story in a folder and took it with me wherever I went. I was inspired and torn by my insight. I felt I may have understood something no one else ever dared to wonder about.
This was back in the 1980’s. Then, as busy and as careless as a young punk might be, I lost the folder at a Mexican restaurant up-town Whittier, CA.
This loss haunted my nights. Back then backing-up-files was not so easy. This may have been before floppy disks? I did not make a copy of my short story of a monster’s revelations. I did keep the little doodles about the story which I will share today.
Maybe I did not misplace the folder. Maybe someone took it and still has it?
As one gets older time seems to bend backwards . It comes towards you so you can say hello again to those times of youthful inspiration.
I looked through all of my plastic boxes to find these images in my art closet. So glad the doodles were safe and not lost.
Victory Frankenstein  and the creature. 

4th fave song… bunch of goons !

My 4th favorite song is Vandals – I Want To Be A Cowboy .

As a young punk all the words were being thrown around. Anarchy, chaos, discord and mayhem. It rang around me via songs, voices and written lyrics and published fanzines. and punk friends. I never thought the ideals I supported would manifest via a gangster presidency? These words were used as ways to inspire creative freedom. This words for me meant the ability to do things on your own terms to help others not to tear them apart. To confront cruel authority, not to create a foundation for dictatorship or fascist tendencies. So much for deconstructivism if born again AA punks’ side with the enemy. It is a wake up call for us all. How to keep a conversation going is not always possible. Humor as, it was only for a fun experience, can be thrown in there. Yet I am keeping my integrity at my hip. My mind set to do it myself. As always, it may not be popular.


New Badges !

Christine Blasey Ford



Audience members stand up to listen during a Senate Judiciary Committee markup hearing on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC on September 28, 2018, for the nomination of Brett M. Kavanaugh to be an associate justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. – Kavanaugh’s contentious Supreme Court nomination will be put to an initial vote Friday, the day after a dramatic Senate hearing saw the judge furiously fight back against sexual assault allegations recounted in harrowing detail by his accuser. (Photo by Brendan Smialowski / AFP) (Photo credit should read BRENDAN SMIALOWSKI/AFP/Getty Images)


The Philosophy of Love


Diotima of Mantinea


“The Philosophy of Love”


“Then at last man will behold beauty with the eye of the mind and will be able to bring forth not mere images of what is good for man but realities… Would that be an ignoble life Socrates?”