Tag Archives: Depth Psychology

My heavenly shower

Jerusalem ~William Blake



My heavenly shower
is a sacred place
of hot, warm or cold water.

It is there for me in worst of times
bones ache and chills of fever
cleaning a dark soul quality away.

I sing, talk and compose there
I talk to my medicine animals there
and say my prayers.

It is an old shower with a whacked head
yet the water cleans me inside and out
my holy shower that sings me sweet words.

 

The Nasty woman is me.

The Nasty Woman and the

Smörgåsbord of words and feelings… some very nasty…. like me.

“In his late works , he embodied these and other ills in the nightmare ridden figure of the cosmic giant Albion, or universal humanity, who has fallen in to deadly sleep of mundane existence. In humanity’s coma, the divine is a remote and forbidding sky-god: nature a sterile heap of atoms, lovers and family members, enemies; and one’s own innermost being, an unrecognized alien.” 

~Blake’s Poetry & Designs ` A Norton Critical Edition.

I realize I am being confrontational, nasty and outrageous. It is that two-week time as we move into the autumnal equinox. I hate this time of transition, but I love autumn.


Today I had to get gas on the way to where I was going. This local gas station charged me a 30 cents gas fee. Yet this is the normal way to skim the top and make a lot of money off millions of poor people. I remember when gas stations had attendants pour the gas, check the oil and fill the car tires. It was service with a smile.

I wish one of these monster gas companies would be brave and bring the service attendants back. They could collect the cash and we could give them the service charge… instead of a fucking machine.

Every time we take away a person’s job and replace them with a machine, we become less human.

I went into the mini-market and the cashier, who seemed to be acting as an employe,  knew nothing about the fee and said,

“I don’t know why you are asking about it. You are the only one that cares? No one else has asked about it.”

I looked at her silently and squarely.

“You should know about it and all the things around you here. I must pay a fee and it is dirty filthy outside around the gas tanks. I remember the day…”

A man came forward and interrupted our conversation and the cashier looked away.

“Excuse us,” I said. “We are talking.”

I used a figure to point to the cashier and me.

“Grumble, “said the man under his breath.

I left telling the cashier she should lose her job for not knowing anything.

Then I came home to find standing outside my home a strange older man smoking a cigarette.

“Are you waiting for someone,” I said.

“No.”

“Then why did you park here?”

The street had no other cars around. He then looked up at the tree. I then asked him to please move his car I needed to part our truck there. He seemed nice enough for not having a reason for being there besides smoking a cigarette. We talked back and forth.

“We have had issues with drug dealers around here,” I said.

He soon left and I moved the truck out. I know I was being ridiculous. I thought it strange that he would get out of his car with his cell home in hand to smoke a cigarette under our lovely olive tree. I did say to him.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes and I am sure the tree doesn’t either.”

I think upon a poem I wrote that I have changed a bit.

Any time of the year but now it is moving into the Autumn poem.

Green-gold olives

This eve
I take my broom
Last ray of sun is dead here …
it is real…

The shy clouds hide stars
Only the Moon, Jupiter and Saturn shine their breastplates.
Of radiant light…

I take my broom to the front of our home into the dustpan goes
Dry brown and yellow
Pointy olive leaves and hard green-gold olives…

Into the waste bin… away away.
Goes all the thoughts of this day
Of a wooing Crone…
Looking around as I sweep and bend

For any Fay to show their haunting ways 
In the clouds sailing on the night or
Upon the grasping arms of the olive tree. 
Queen of Elphame mocks me
As I move quickly and consistently,
I call her Sabrina…

How symbolic have I become?
Wild movement… yet strangely calm.
Sweet sweat dripping
My dusty perfume…

I do as many an old Crone
Sweeping clean the front of their home
At this transforming time.
Today I am a nasty one...

 

 

 

 

Chi Chi Hawa Harmony



th (2)

Chato from Painted Woman / The Mustanger and the Lady (The Brandiron) ` Dusty Richards


Resilient

“Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.” ― William Blake


fire monster pic by Hudley

burnt tree pic by Hudley

return of mustard greens pic by Hudley


It was terrifying living through the California fires. I took a picture across the street then of what I see as a fire monster. At least it looks like one. The fires approached so close to our home.

When Spring came so did the Monarch butterflies. A flying path over our home called us to visit the burned hills. I was beside myself with wonder. How resilient nature is.  I know these hills well, and I saw blooming flowers I had never seen before. A multitude of creatures and fresh green hills. Roadrunners and rabbits have also returned.



Purple mystery flowers from the Santa Monica HIlls. Pic by Hudley


Today I study the ideal of contraries. It is part of who we are as human beings and nature and the cosmos. I cannot think of a better quote then William Blake’s above to understand what we are going through right now. I want to share a hopeful part of nature as well.  Contrary as is may seem now. It is a dependable pattern we can trust.



In its highest sense.

To my friend Dionysus

“According to Jung, humanity holds a special role in creation: to contribute to the act of consciousness, and the point of view of morality, in its highest sense.” ~ Johnson, Robert A. Ecstasy (p. 64) Harper One. Kindle Edition.


Time of Coyote

Driving towards home the dark night held all the romance that a woman could ask for. Falling in love after 30 was not a goal. Looking out of the passenger seat coyote was eyeballing my lover. He looked back at the wild thing that was part of a mythology deep in this hill’s subconscious. Hadn’t he been on top of coyote hill and tasted the nectar of adventure? Once on top years earlier coyote turned to look as coyote defined his territory.  A wild thing knowing all those living there. A sacred path that went on for generations.  

Posts about Coyote

https://hudleyflipside.com/2014/02/17/coyote-hill/

https://hudleyflipside.com/2014/09/17/coyote-green-stone-story/

https://hudleyflipside.com/2014/03/19/yellow-behind-the-ears/

https://hudleyflipside.com/2017/11/23/autumn-magic-poem-7-all-wild-things-that-know-us/

 

 

 

 

Paperback: To Ride A Painted Pony Wild~ Now for Sale

In Paperback – July 19, 2019 To Ride A Painted Pony Wild: The Adventures Of Sony and Raubie

Sony and Holly Picture by brother Steve Hudson (rip)

“A novella is a text of written, fictional, narrative prose normally longer than a short story but shorter than a novel, somewhere between 17,500 and 40,000 words. The English word “novella” derives from the Italian novella, feminine of novello, which means “new”.[1] The novella is a common literary genre in several European languages. “ `Wikipedia

I decided to make this real-life story into a short novella. It is a bit off the beaten track because a novella tends to be fiction. Yet I have found many that aren’t.

This story is like capturing the essence of a wildflower while watercoloring or grasping a political expression for one of my Flopside comics. I tend to grasp and then get it out there before I lose the essence of what is coming forth.

This story may have taken time to materialize into a novella format. Which I feel protects its essence which I hope will come across.

It is set in the early 1970s.

As my two boys, my dancing John and the punk rock scene… Sony was one of my greatest gifts.



A Letter to Bernie Taupin, Alfred E. Newman and Gahan Wilson.

Dear Teachers,

These are the Benadryl days.

Too much listening to Elton John and remembering my crush on Bernie Taupin. Foggy dreams. Dreams where the threads of remembering can’t be pulled down into this world. A changing mixture of memories swirling around me that I have experienced in real time. Remembering my, heart heart ~fun fun,  days as a youth and teenager.

As sitting under the pool table in the boy’s room reading Mad Magazine and Playboy. Alfred E. Neuman or cartoonist Gahan Wilson went on to inspire me in my own fanzine. Where I created images or doodled between the pages.

Magazines are now becoming obsolete. Newspapers stands too except for the billionaires that do resurrect some. A fight that is not gonna win.

To my teachers that came from those awesome perverted magazines.

Love,

Holly


Within our Nature

Thus it is our fate to manage within our nature the complexity and the competition of two opposing tendencies: that which stands with life and love (the Dionysian) and that which is greedy, power hungry, and ego-driven (the Titanic).

Aguilar, A. Marina. Alchemy of The Heart: The Sacred Marriage of Dionysos & Ariadne . Chiron Publications. Kindle Edition.

The Grecian god Dionysius sat enthroned on a leopard.

Centrifuge Going So Swiftly

Rocket Man Review: The Film

“And we went to California and up and down the Pacific Coast for a day and a half, settling at last on the sands of Malibu to cook wieners at night. Dad was always listening or singing or watching things on all sides of him, holding onto things as if the world were a centrifuge going so swiftly that he might be flung off away from us at any instant.”~ Ray Bradbury. The Rocket Man

“I’ve been a cunt since 1975.”- Elton John

Rocket Man explained a lot about Elton John that confused me since 1975. I love autobiographical stories and memoirs. What a joy! Elton John shared his psyche with the world. A healed psyche that was given more then a second chance.

The film has that real deal 1970s thing going that sprang forth from the late 1960s. The chance that two genius dudes like Elton John and Bernie Taupin found each other is amazing. So grateful! I enjoyed the integrity, depth and darkness shared in this film. The world of rock & roll was not romanticized.

Fun musical choreographed dance scenes moved through the film. Bernie Taupin’s lyrics enhanced by being sung clearly and slowly made me want to sing and dance along.

I love Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s music especially the years between 1971-1974. I include in this review a conclusion with an early song written 1971 entitled Friends.  I think the song Friends was a song of amazing foresight. As if Bernie knew the journey ahead would be a difficult one. Especially for Reginald Kenneth Dwight!


“Friends is a 1971 teen-romance film directed and produced by Lewis Gilbert and written by Gilbert, Vernon Harris, and Jack Russell. The soundtrack, with music composed by Elton John and Paul Buckmaster, and lyrics written by Bernie Taupin, was released as the Friends album, and John’s recording of the title selection charted when released as a single in the United States.”



1970 my favorite