I was inspired today by watching the video below. The ideal of “CODE for the people.” Is a new concept for me but not an old one.
From acclaimed director Bao Nguyen (BTS, Be Water, The Greatest Night in Pop), Code for the People is a documentary short exploring the past, present, and contested future of the open web.
In this video so much of what I have always done and fought for was talked about. The growth of computers and the internet.
Years ago, I used Quantum Link with our Commadore computers at Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. I had a group I met with called Midnite Mystics. We communicated across the USA.
My friends did not have a clue back then what I was doing. Yet it is a dinosaur to what we have now. My oldest son is an advanced computer engineer, and coding is a second language to him. Like my youngest son’s is math. Another language. Both beyond me but I do have my art. That is my source of communication between art and writing. My husband speaks so many other languages, but Chess is one that takes time to see and understand.
Symbols are my language and narratives. I was touched by this video, and it is some of the ideas shared that were like direct contact for me.
The fire of Promethius or Open Source as a way for the people to experience “the Freedom to be Free.”
I wrote about this in my new book Electric Honey and in the art of Attis.
I gathered this all together today to show us all that WordPress is a wonderous example of an open source to share our words, ideas, and art.
“He was shy. He did not talk much. We three sat together.
Saturn said that Pholus was pleased with my painting of him. Then Pholus kindly spoke,
“I often sit in my garden like you and watch the praying mantis.”
He told me the name “mantis,” has great value and meaning to him.”
“Small acts can unleash far-reaching consequences,”
7/3/2026
I had an active imagination last night. I imagined a female voice announce that Saturn would like to see me. I had turned him down a couple of days ago. Had a tough week. Yet last night I agreed. So, the lovely white horse with wings was waiting- then zoom I saw the rings of Saturn.
“How fast,” I thought.
We landed and I gave the horse some barley and oats. I tickled his whiskers on his nose.
I walked up to the large open ballroom with rounded door. I was given a lovely white dress to wear. Feeling silly I asked if I could just be in my regular clothes.
“You mean your bitchin’ pants and t-shirt.”
I turned around and there was my beloved Saturn.
He escorted me to an upstairs room. He told me there was someone who wanted to see me. He introduced me to Pholus.
Pholus held out his hand and I said,
“Hello.” I touched his hand.
He was shy. He did not talk much. We three sat together.
Saturn said that Pholus was pleased with my painting of him. Then Pholus kindly spoke,
“I often sit in my garden like you and watch the praying mantis.”
He told me the name “mantis,” has great value and meaning to him.
Pholus told me gently that he has a healthy healing potion for my foot cut. So, Saturn was there to help him put a small, exceedingly small drop on my cut…
I fell asleep.
Later in the morning I remembered the experience and softly said,
“Saturn and Pholus I am sorry I fell asleep. But I assume Saturn brought me back as usual.
In reflection:
Pholus was in the shadows, soft spoken, gentle, and filled with a goodness that was a wonder for me to behold. He asked if I would finish the right of the painting with yellow. I hope I got that right.
What I love about this global WordPress community is that it feels real. Even as countries clash and leaders create division, it is comforting to know that people around the world can still connect, share this planet, and exchange ideas through art.
The artist Vincent van Gogh said this:
“Great things are done by a series of small things brought together.”
Fourteen years ago, I began this WordPress journey without knowing where it would lead.
Today I noticed a collection of WordPress achievements that made me pause.
Visitors from over 150 countries.
Readers from more than 50 countries.
Fourteen years of publishing.
Hundreds of posts.
A community that continues to read, follow, and encourages my work.
These aren’t awards in the traditional sense. They’re reminders that showing up matters.
I’ve never chased fame. I’ve simply tried to keep creating—painting, writing, publishing, and sharing what feels true.
Thank you to everyone who has stopped by, read an essay, looked at a painting, left a comment, or quietly visited from somewhere in the world. You are part of this story.
Long ago we took our kids to bookstores. Finding their favorite books was a big treat for us as well as for them. Today we had a good pint and meal and a walk. The local bookstore is still there where it has been for a long time now.
Bookstores have disappeared over the last few years. I am happy that Barnes & Noble is still moving along nicely and was filled with characters and other book lovers of all kinds.
I was on a mission to find one book by Alan Watts. And I searched all over and found none. Below and above this two-story store. I was focused on the Philosophy section. I did look elsewhere yet no luck. Then youngest son said,
“How about we try it again on the second level.”
The three of us went up the escalator but no dice. Husband was gone for a brief time.
Coming back to us He asked,
“What section are you looking for”?
“I am thinking Psychology but cannot find that section.”
He said,
“It is behind this shelf. See, what would mama do without me?”
The very top and the furthest away turned towards the window I found a short group of books in the Psychology section. Behind another section that had another topic.
There was a peculiar man sitting in a chair. There were only inches to walk by him.
He seemed introverted and looked down. I then said,
“Excuse me!”
Looking at books at the very bottom in the back corner.
“Oh, there is his book, the only book?”
To my surprise, the book bore Alan Watts’s name and was titled The Book. It was a small volume, and I’ve often found that my favorite books are the little ones. I then said kindly to the man,
“Thank you, I found my Alan Watts book.”
He looked at me and smiled and mumbled words I did not catch.
Unexpectedly on the way out I was inspired and found myself walking out with other books not so small. A lovely book about Alchemy & Mysticism including a few illustrations by William Blake!
A second book entitled Native American Legends Illustrated with an image of White Buffalo and a story.
Lastly, a Carl Jung Psychology Test in a box with a deck of cards.
I was enthusiastic to learn that Alan Watts held a master’s degree in theology and a Doctor of Divinity. It helped me understand why his work may be drawing me back to a path I stepped away from some years ago.
Thanks to husband who dropped the honey to look back, in the backside, and in the corner nearby the peculiar man.
I almost gave up. Finding a book on Amazon is easy but this was as mystical, peculiar and wonderful as Alan Watts seems to be.
“This is the real secret of life — to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now. And instead of calling it work, realize it is play.” ― Alan Watts
A week before Easter and a week after I spent two weeks in Hospital. I almost died from a colon blockage. It has been a month since I have been out of hospital recovering.
Squirrel the Brave is here “our family garden.”
Tomorrow will be my last day of taking a time released steroid which I have slowly decreased as recommended by my gastrologist doctor.
I am still on a soft food diet.
I still feel like I am recovering since the steroid is like an elixir.
An immensely powerful drug to heal inflammation. I also started receiving infusion of a drug that will help my immune system to stop attacking my body. I was given plenty of antibiotics my first week. And a more powerful steroid the second week.
I am blessed with excellent healthcare from Kaiser. I am incredibly grateful but like anything else I also must be my own advocate. I pay attention and ask for things or ask for advice. I am that artist or perspective, or interval to disagree… if it is worth a new perspective or evaluation from a doctor.
So far, I have listened to my original hospital team and my gastrologist.
My potassium is stabilizing but my cholesterol is up and that very well could be due to the steroid. The powerful elixir steroid from the second week did make my blood pressure become truly angry and my heart felt like it would fly away.
Now my blood pressure is particularly good, and my heartbeat is comfortable again. As I start a normal diet and focus on healthy eating as usual, I hopefully will see that cholesterol go down.
Nacho Flower is here “our family garden.“
Due to a past unbelievably terrible experience with steroids from 2018 to 2019 I do have a type of traumatic experience when it comes to steroids. Some call it PTSD.
It is the beast I face and this time it was not different.
This time I had a wonderful experience with a nurse who touched my heart and made me release the healing that was going on in the process. At that moment I learned to use my years of Jungian perspective and alchemical processes which are to change the base metals into gold.
I did this by creating art, cleaning, and keeping a balanced perspective even though the beast pulled at my dark soul and amplified that strange unknown grief.
Now I am feeling in my belly the warm embers of a once unbearable raging fire.
I was shocked by my face with death. How close I was.
On this strange journey I found a gift, Alan Watts.
I guess I knew about him, but he arrived today with a random synchronicity. I have been called on this strange journey before. A vision quest.
As gentle as the softest elements of existence yet simultaneously imbued with a profound ability to uncover deeper truths.
I will take him as I do honey in my coffee. A little at a time. Maybe a book on my shelf for a while before reading. To feel that presence he so often writes about.
I pray for all who do not have the good health care I enjoy.
I advocate universal healthcare for everyone.
We are here, as I am here… we all deserve healthcare.
A fine singing bird is here “our family garden” where nature and humankind coexist.
Urania is often associated with Universal Love. Sometimes identified as the eldest of the divine sisters, Urania inherited Zeus’ majesty and power and the beauty and grace of her mother Mnemosyne.
Epsilon Carinae, also known as Avior, is a binary star system located approximately 610 light-years from Earth and is one of the brightest stars in the southern constellation of Carina.
I took a walk around the block and halfway down the street I looked at a tree on the left side of the street walk. A strange dark shadow. An unusual dark shadow in the heart of the tree. It was taller than I was and I was about two houses down from the tree. I stopped to notice the shape.
As the outside dimensions of the Virgin Mary. I have seen that shape many times before.
The darkness of it made me pause. Then as I slowly walked closer a house light came on. The light vanished from the dark shape. I looked over my shoulder, and it was gone.
The night had soft clouds, and the stars were not to be seen. Maybe creating the dark tree shadow. It was not my shadow.
As I reached home, I sat in the white plastic chair in my yard. I looked up to see one star. Thinking it was the “Dog Star” Sirius because it was due south set further back. It was Southeast. Higher in the horizon than the crescent moon that was present shining or glowing from the clouds in the sky.
I investigated on my Galaxy Apt that I have learned to trust as being fully accurate. To make sure it was the Dog Star. I was surprised to be corrected. It was a new star for me.
Avior a bright star in the southern constellation Carina. Known at the “Keel of a ship: also called by a Hebrew term as “the father is light.”
The shadow and the star were parallel so I will work on this.
Epsilon Carinae
A keel is the foundation longitudinal “backbone” of a ship or boat, running along the center of the bottom of the hull from bow to stern or front to end.
Carinae was once part of Argo Navis, the great ship of the mythical Jason and the Argonauts who searched for the Golden Fleece. (Greece)
Avior Night
Poem by Hudley / Franky
Light clouds close
The curtain
On the noisy sky
But one-star stays
Avior and a thin
Cresent breathing beside it.
Not everything
Just enough
A new friend
A Mysterious Feeling
Guidance doesn’t shout
It waits
Until the sky
Gets quiet enough
To see it.
Follow Me Lyrics
Camelot Lyrics
NIMUE:
(Lady Of the Lake)
Far from day, far from night,
Out of time, out of sight,
In between earth and sea,
We shall fly; follow me.
Dry the rain, warm the snow;
Where the winds never go
Follow me, follow me, follow me
To a cave by a sapphire shore
Where we’ll walk through an emerald door,
And for thousands of breathless evermore my life you shall be.
Today is Blake Off day. In celebration of William Blake’s Birthday.
“Introverted intuition perceives all the background processes of consciousness with almost the same distinctness as extroverted sensation senses outer objects. For intuition, there for, the unconscious images attain to the dignity of things or objects.”
Pg. 23 Chapter Two The Supreme Introvert. Blake A psychological study by W.P. Witcutt
“Each day, the dawn unveils the mystery of this universe. Dawn is the ultimate surprise; it awakens us to the immense “thereness” of nature. The wonderful subtle of the universe aries to cloth everything. This captured in a phrase from William Blake “Colours are the wounds of light.” Colors bring out the depth of secret presence at the heart of nature.”
Pg 2., Anam Cara, A book of Celtic Wisdom. By John O’Donohue.
A poetry class at university ended quickly for me when a professor called William Blake a weird mystic, Christian. I promptly dropped the course signing up for an extra curriculum course where I studied a real mystic, Christian. Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite. This professor did not seem to grasp that William Blake is so much more.
A good “anam cara” guided me beyond words to concepts and images that I could understand despite dyslexia, showing me that language can be learned. Blake also played a part in helping me develop my soul.
How can one weave such a man as he into one’s life? How did he find my mind where his images and words resounded so strongly in my soul? As a lone reader and self-educated he was my deep reference and confidence. Finding him in those places where one goes wondering for answers. Which Blake amplified for me in so many unimaginable ways. I could read him and comprehend him so clearly. A wonder to me for sure.
Some books that stand out on my book shelves!
We were living in Santa Cruz, California. A magic book store named LOGOS is one we did visit often. Along with The Poet and Patriot Pub. Hosting a nice pint of something we called Grease Lightning. A half of Guinness and a half of Anchor Steam beer. We powered them down ready for some enjoyable reading later. Or husband’s endless games of chess.
Another book : Park South Books John Calmann and Cooper Ltd. 1977.William Vaughan (Backcover).
I discovered William Blake’s Divine Comedy Illustrations Dover Publications 2008. in a world where Dante Alighieri’s words and Blake’s images vividly came to life. At a Van Nuys California used bookstore.
The next book by Canadian Scholar a book entitled Fearful Symmetry A Study of William Blake by Northrop Frye, Princeton University 1947. I was introduced to this book by one of my professors at California State University Northridge.
“Holly, I think you should read this book. He reminds me of your focus on symbols and archetypes. He was a professor of mine years ago.”
Imagine that my professor identified something in me that I could not. And so, my private life with Blake entered the big world of “Blakean” experts filled me by analytical minds.
Then to finish off this “Blake Off” essay is a book I found later, was it Van Nuys, California or down a few blocks a rare bookstore off Ventura Blvd. in the San Fernando Valley, CA? Amazing little gem.
“For the story was preserved as a family tradition by the real descendants of John O’Neil and Ellen Blake (the Carter Blakes), who told it to the poet Yeats. So it was that our William, who should have been born and brought up in some crumbling tower by the Atlantic shore and fed upon the tales of the ancient Ulster heroes, instead was reared in Golden Square. But anyone who saw the little boy might have guessed that he was really Liam O’Neil, with “his flame-like golden-red hair on end standing up all over his head.”
Blake a psychological study by W.P. Witcutt. Page 8.
“Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
‘Pipe a song about a Lamb’…”
The “Song of Innocence,” ~ William Blake.
I thought we would be driving up to San Francisco to see some of William Blake’s art at The William Blake Gallery located at the John Windle Antiquarian Bookseller. My pilgrimage to see Blake’s work has taken a big reprieve. Time to rethink this again.
“The archetypical mind, which represents the personality of the galaxy.” The Synchronicity Key, David Wilcock.
Kitty cat extraterrestrial!
And so, the best stories are created by truths folded into everyday events. As cleaning the lowest shelves next to the wood floor in my office.
Move forward to advance with my war bonnet by retreating to clean the office. Mikey the whizzer did his magic on my collection of David Wilcock books. Dust and cat piss is not my favorite thing to clean.
I don’t know if you saw it but Mikey’s band, the Whizzers, played on No Kings Day. Months of kitty focus and working with extraterrestrial sources.
And the protest continues against this wicked monster president and his asshole friends.
Cats know the doors, the thresholds that lead into other worlds, and uncover their way into the Oval Office. Mr. Wilcock tells these governmental stories about these doors. So, the story is told to me by way of decoding cat’s meows and sounds.
By way of their kitty ESP and telepathic powers. My kitties were organizing to take a whiz on the president’s chair.
Mikey meowed so clearly at the live event. I recorded it but something weird happened? Our house lights were going on and off and our internet was out for the whole performance.
A day or two later Poobah the black kitty, was lying in my lap for her daily massage; I heard her purr that they did find the door into the Oval Office.
Yet they only found an old man with yellow hair sobbing.
He was throwing his food around and peed on his own chair.
This scared the cats, and they all came back home. Mikey felt betrayed by their kitty cat fears.
When he came into my office, he took a revenge whiz on all of David’s books. Kitties have found their purring peace since and now are back to cleaning each other’s ears.
Above David’s now cleaned books, and a glossy copy of a Flopside cOmic. “Punks In Space` Rockets A GO-GO.”
It fell down from a top shelf onto my lap. A closing synchronicity and conclusion to this curious feline story declaring,
“The door has been found!”
“The archetypal mind is intended to heighten this ability to express the Creator in patterns more like the fanned peacocks’ tail.” -The Synchronicity Key, David Wilcock.
“Being put down and called a cow by some man when calling out those who are cruel and abusive. Even if it is in the usually subtle manner. I was told that meant double bitch.”
~ The world of being a woman, Hudley Flipside
Women were significantly affected during Trump’s first presidency. Conservative Supreme Court judges overturned Roe v. Wade, a decision that is not discussed often today, but I continue to address its implications. This action represented an assault on women’s autonomy over their reproductive choices, leading to widespread uncertainty across states and healthcare institutions. It also resulted in challenges for doctors and organizations like Planned Parenthood.
So, a woman in some cases must have her child even in rape and incest, and now the conservatives want to take away any help to these women who may lose their healthcare soon enough? The cruel irony of these soulless politicians, fascist religious blazers and dammed evil monsters are well documented and so unreal.
It was at a planned parenthood clinic in Santa Cruz California where I got my first Aides test, and a pregnancy test to find out I was pregnant with my first child in the 1990’s. The pay was based on a sliding scale. At the time it was extremely helpful. Even though I was working full time as a Home Health Aide with a Nursing Agency they did not have health care for their employees who were only hired per diem. Imagine that?
Which gets me to the point of my two shared images today. As a woman I have experienced being taken advantage of, due to my kindness, in my scene many times. A knife to my throat so to say. It is not easy overcoming being patronized and treated poorly as an experienced woman who is often devalued.
I got my voice in the original and growing punk rock scene. It was then that I encountered many other women with extraordinarily strong voices and some sang like angels.
American musician Annette Zilinskas is one of those women who is well known now in our music world. She is down to earth and very conscious. SO, when I get the feeling of inspiration I put it to watercolor.
“Change takes courage.”
~ Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez
Then the female politician Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is another attractive woman who is also skin deep beautiful. She speaks of true liberty and equality for all and for a woman’s right to be heard especially.
They have that rare quality these days called audacity.
I will lasso this bold essay about bringing light to my art from my dark closet by saying,
“I am utterly amazed how well Tennessee Williams knows the female psyche. He honors her and addresses her unique qualities and so gives wings and light to her struggle.”
Ezekiel Wheel Mr. Fuck “God is Every fucking man.”
“And the word of the lord came to me: Mortal, prophesy and say: thus says the Lord; Say: A sword, a sword is sharpened, it is also polished; It is sharpened for slaughter, honed to flash like lightning! How can we make merry? You have despised the rod.” ~ EZEKIEL 21 8-10.
I never will forget when my oldest son and I read from the bible a certain part about Ezekiel’s Wheel. I often overlooked elements of war but in the bible our patriarchs are ruthless bastards. And so is Ezekiel’s Wheel.
A prelude to war. Fucking race gods fighting each other through their human pawns, a big cosmic game of chess.
This may seem esoteric because it is. Recently Mr. Fuck and I were going through some of the Flopside cOmics and images, and we came upon a couple that he loved so much. We’ laughed aloud’ like we used to in time of grieving and wild exuberance. There is more to this image, it was inspired by Human (Steve Pfauter) during one of our online conversations. We were talking about women singers of the 60s and 70s. And we moved into talking about the Goddess. I mentioned the quote “The Goddess is Every Woman” by a well-known Jungian therapist Jean Shinoda Bolen. He said that it was not fair and replied,
“The God is every man.” We enjoyed this back and forth and often later I would get a message stated,
“Hud, you know I’m just messing with you, having a little fun, nothing serious!”
Next watercolor is inspired by some of the guys from the Scotland Yard Pub in Canoga Park California. I was going through some grieving times of parents getting old and dying.
The punk rock nostalgia wave was just beginning to hit around 2007, and they still had DJs at the pub who played from their record collections, often prime 1980s punk. Some of the fellas influenced me in a pleasant way. But I did drink too much and began smoking for a brief time.
It was a relieving an offbeat microcosm of how the punk scene once was for me during my youthful rebellion. To the songs and the great individuals and toxicologists at the pub. Thanks for helping me through some rough times. Mr. Fuck was often in the dark corner grinning asking for a lite after hours. Who knows maybe he is an offbeat shadow of my psyche.
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
A reflection of my turmoil and my search for peace in the midst of the storm
Last night was a dark one, filled with palpable heaviness that lingered in the air. As the planets Pluto and Neptune danced in their contrasting orbits, I felt their influences swirling within me—conflicting energies that stirred both my body and my psyche. It was an unsettling experience, as if I were caught in a cosmic tug-of-war that left me disoriented.
In the depths of my mind, dreams—some eerily prophetic—unfolded like delicate petals blooming in the night. They whispered secrets of the heart and echoes of long-forgotten desires, blending into a arras of haunting beauty. Yet, there was Pluto, that enigmatic force, reaching deep into my being, pulling at my very essence with an intensity that felt almost invasive. It was a reminder of the darker sides of transformation and the raw, sometimes painful, nature of rebirth.
Amid this turmoil, as I finally drifted into a state of fragile sleep, a fleeting glimpse of clarity surged through the chaos. It reminded me of a particular song that resonated deeply within my soul. The melody and lyrics intertwined perfectly with the essence of the night—a reflection of my turmoil and my search for peace in the midst of the storm. It was strange how music seemed to emerge from the depths of my consciousness, illuminating the shadows and giving voice to the inexpressible emotions that flickered in the corners of my mind.
This song has a way of capturing the essence of what it means to navigate the complexities of life, especially during nights like these, when the celestial bodies collide within and around us, leaving us to decipher the meaning of our own existence.
“He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” is a ballad written by Bobby Scott and Bob Russell. Originally recorded by Kelly Gordon in 1969, the song became a worldwide hit for the Hollies later that year and also a hit for Neil Diamond in 1970. It has been recorded by many artists in subsequent years. The Hollies’ version was re-released in 1988 and again was a major hit in the UK.
As 2025, 1969 was an interval of time in our American history as is now. Seems sometimes a dark part of our American psyche shows its ugly face. Absurd politics, greed and power. Like some awful rouge wave that manifests for a rift of time in our history.
It is a constant here and we just have to know this. We all know this.
“If I’m laden at all I’m laden with sadness That everyone’s heart Isn’t filled with the gladness Of love for one another.”
Don’t let them find you stashing your Flopside cOmics PUSS!
Bound to the hospital bed for 7 days. No food, only moisture from an I.V. and a tube in my nose taking moisture out of my belly.
I thought about the Oceanids watercolors I did during our California Fires only a week earlier. It was so terrible.
I thought upon Prometheus and fire. Zeus bound him to a giant rock… yet it was the Oceanids who trembled and came to his side to hear his stories. Furthermore, to comfort him.
Again, I thought about these amazing creatures so when I was in hospital craving a drink of water, the nurse gave me a small cup of shaved ice.
I did a ritual and put it on my legs, arms, and face. I could not drink it, but I sure could enjoy the bliss of moisture on my body.
The day I got out I felt the rain on my face. Two weeks later I finished my project with a place for the Oceanids … yes, it is good, and we are expecting more rain.
The anthropomorphic Praying Mantis is part of this wild story of water, nymphs and moisture. Praying for fog, rain and moisture we can call upon the Oceanids. A mystery, mythology and now a bubblegum Flopside cOmics.
Tethys
Tethys is a Titan goddess of freshwater and the mother of the Oceanids and the river gods. She is the daughter of Gaia and Uranus, and the wife and sister of Oceanus. Tethys is a nurturing mother to many of the more popular gods, including Hera, the grandmother of Athena.
Moon of Saturn
Tethys is a moon of Saturn with a diameter of 1,066 km (662 miles). It was discovered in 1684 by Gian Domenico Cassini and named after the Greek Titan goddess.
Tethys is known for a fissure that circles most of its circumference. It orbits Saturn every 45 hours, while its moons Telesto and Calypso maintain stable positions in its orbit.
Thalassa
THALASSA is the primordial goddess (protogenos) of the sea. Mingled with Pontos (Pontus), her male counterpart, she produced the fish and other sea creatures.
Thalassa is the literal body of the sea and in the fables of Aesop, manifests as a woman formed of seawater rising from her native element.
Poseidon and Amphitrite, the anthropomorphic king and queen of the sea, are the rulers of the elemental Pontos and Thalassa.
Thalassa is depicted in Greco-Roman mosaics as a matronly woman, half-submerged in the sea, with crab-claw horns, seaweed for clothes, and a ship’s oar in her hand.
Thetis
Thetis is a figure from Greek mythology with varying mythological roles.
She mainly appears as a sea nymph, a goddess of water, and one of the 50 Nereids, daughters of the ancient sea god Nereus.
Styx
STYX is the goddess of the underworld River Styx and the eldest of the Okeanides (Oceanids). She is also the spirit (daimon) personification of hatred (stygos).
Styx is a firm ally of Zeus in the Titan Wars, who brought her children Nike (Victory), Zelos (Rivalry), Bia (Force) and Kratos (Cratus, Strength) to stand beside the god in battle. Zeus rewarded her by making her stream the agent of oaths which bound the gods.
The River Styx is s also a corrosive Arkadian (Arcadian) stream which allegedly flowed forth from the underworld.
Styx is sometimes identified with several other chthonian goddesses, including Demeter Erinys the wrathful earth, the oath-protecting Eumenides, and Nyx the darkness of night.
Telesto
Telesto. In Greek mythology, Telesto or Telestho (/tɪˈlɛstoʊ/; Ancient Greek: Τελεστώ means ‘success’) is an Oceanid, one of the 3,000 water-nymph daughters of Titans Oceanus and Tethys. She is the personification of the divine blessing or success. Hesiod describes her as “wearing a yellow peplos”.
Thoosa
Thoosa. In Greek mythology, Thoosa, also spelled Thoösa, is, according to Homer, the sea nymph daughter of the primordial sea god Phorcys, and the mother, by Poseidon, of the Cyclops Polyphemus.
Triteria
Triteia is a sea nymph and the daughter of Triton, the sea-god. She was the lover of Ares, the god of war, and they had a son named Melanippus.
Melanippus named a town in Achaea after his mother, and sacrifices were made to both Triteia and Ares in the temple of Athena there.
Tritonidis
Tritonidis / Tritônis is the goddess-nymph of the salt-water lake Tritonis in Libya, North Africa. In the story of the birth of the Libyan Athena, Triton–a Libyan Sea-God sometimes identified with Poseidon–and Tritonis are the parents of two daughters named Athena and Pallas.
I do not often show my religiosity training. Be it from university or experience or the blending of the two.
In the 1980s I had a long correspondence with the Poor Clares of Long Island New York, who led me from the Anglican Church to the Episcopal Church. Yet in my heart I was hearing a call from the Franciscans who are members of a Catholic religious order.
I explored the concept of Episcopal women serving as Priests after reading “Womanpriest: A Personal Odyssey” by Alla Renee Bozarth.
I liked them all in their essences of spirituality and integrity of faith, believing in something beyond themselves. Yet it is always the dogma of the church that makes me wonder off.
Professor Hap at university was an Episcopal Gay Priest who would talk about synchronicity and Fellini’s Satyricon with an odd look on his face. We both knew, recited and prayed the Rosary.
Yet my esoteric past held me at a place that could not be bound by dogmas.
“So nigh is grandeur to our dusk,
So near is God to Man!”
~ Ralf Waldo Emerson
“Though the individual fact there ever shone for him the effulgence of the Universal reason. The great Cosmic Intellect terminates and houses itself in mortal men and passing hour. Each of us is an angle of its eternal vision, and the only way to be true to our Maker is to be loyal to ourselves.
“O rich and various man!”
he cries,
“though place of sight and sound, carrying in the senses the morning and the night and the unfathomable galaxy; in thy brain the geometry of the city of God; in thy heart the bower of love and the realms of right and wrong.”
Pg. 1121, Address at The Emerson Centenary. William James.
Mariann Budde A new postcard part of the Brave and Strong Women Postcard series.
“In thy heart the bower of love and the realms of right and wrong,” and this is what she calls to all of us, it is the ability to discern the willingness of compassion or the lack there of. I think so.
We need more of “the effulgence of the Universal reason.” Effulgence means radiant splendor or brilliance. It can also refer to the state of looking exceptionally beautiful or being full of goodness!
Compassion is the “splendor of brilliance.”
The beauty of a flower resembles Mariann Budde, who embodies the connection between “the great Cosmic Intellect and mortal [woman].”
As Mariann Budde said,
“But the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches and mosques, synagogues, gurudwaras and temples. I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away. And that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here.”
In the late 1980s I read “Womanpriest: A Personal Odyssey by Alla Renee Bozarth.” Alla talks about her triumphal cry and about her courage… she had to go on in life after great loss. A lovely biography and what was special is how she said she danced to this song barefoot… it was her song of liberation… let’s hope for the liberation of all who are struggling right now around the world… and hope for the good hearts of our leaders to grow stronger with compassion and mercy in the dim times that we now face.
“Nessus had not yet reached the other bank When we began to make our way across A wood on which no path had left its mark. No green leaves in that forest, only black; No branches straight and smooth, but knotted, gnarls;No fruits were there, but briers baring poison.”
My responding…
Nature is not lost All wild creatures, insects, plants, and trees are in a state of ecstasy. The praying mantis reflects in my watery psyche only a drip of what that is. As she embraces the gardenia plant! Climbing through and reaching also the trailing purple tubular magenta flowers. Touching the earth while reaching towards the sun. A spell, my enchanting bliss. Cleaning away the contrast Of contraries of my human experience of a paradise lost!
The Divine Comedy Paradiso Canto XXV 124-127
“Only those two lights that ascended wear Their double garment in this blessed cloister And carry this report back to your world. ”When he began to speak, the flaming circle Had stopped its dance; so took its song had ceased- That gentle mingling of their threefold breath-”
The little things we do to make our environment better. Standing still I see around me in my garden or in my home.
Yet outside I try and do things that are good for my environment. I do not use pesticides. I encourage natural pest control. If you give your environment time it will reach a natural balance.
I have developed a nice relationship with my local praying mantis hub. They have balanced out the problem we had of too many black widow spiders.
Yet all the wild animals too come and go in a balanced way too.
Owls come to visit as well as our family bird tribe of ravens.
The laws and resilience of nature is not for me to control we are all on the menu in one way or another. Yet as a human being I practice environmental etiquette.
For example, if you move into a neighborhood, you are happy with your new home. Take a look around and see how the homes around you are like. Is it a caring frequency you feel? Practice environmental etiquette and I guarantee you that you will make all sorts of friends.
Recycling my ridiculous cartoon art is exuberance when the characters are so fun to work with. Ejaculations in space and small mushrooms is the theme here. To find something of value in it with the need to express something new.
As my youngest son stated to me today as I was talking to him about how the Film Hair was about all the youth of a generation speaking without cell phones. Yet the new young generation now has technology to hang and amplify their voices.
All the social media where people can do and say anything. That is how it once was on the streets where I grew up but without technology. Freedom always has a big shadow. So, to battle this I have learned with action and practice that real freedom comes with the engagement of responsibility.
So, as I was saying, youngest son says,
“Why worry about Trump and Elon…,”
and he smiled.
“Trump will not be around that much longer.”
“It is only matter of time… Trump is getting old and will die in the next ten years or less.”
Where did my son learn such good common-sense?
I love my PayPal but Elon, along with ejaculating in space, has joined the small mushroom club. He has a need to join with racists, Nazis, patriots who don’t know what that means, greedy bastards, men with closets full of Viagra.
As our clever youthful generations expand, they are covering up these guys. They are going to be covered over in our small mushroom gardens by their own waste and compost into a terrible part of our ‘unburned’ history books.
‘Our youth’ have gotten this down really good… so proud of them.
My dream was otherworldly in that the being I saw descending from high was talking and singing maybe singing song singing prose.
An androgynous sound that was amplified outwards.
5/29/2024
I was driving in a kind of bumper car. I was entering a one-way road with a small entrance. I did not know if it was an arrow in or out. I asked someone. I got out of my car and entered the opening.
There were people gathered there looking up at a descending being who was tall glowing in white gossamer clothing.
Singing prose, the being was walking down. I became terrified of what I saw. I lay down and rolled out of the open outdoors room next to the curtain that embraced lightly the event. Dark burgundy.
I did not know what I carelessly walked into. Yet I knew that once I was there, I was known also and even if I tried to race away in my bumper-car to hide under a tree, I felt I could not get away.
I thought of a quote from the Bible,
“can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.”
Then also I thought about two films I saw that had the same feeling of that other worldliness of this being.
Such as in the film The Ghost Busters when Gozer, Sigourney Weaver, also known by her alternate title of Gozer the Gozerian asked,
“Are You A God?”
Or as from the film Prince of Darkness where one of the thirteen academics, Kelly, attempts to summon the Anti-God through a dimensional portal using a makeup compact mirror.
I awoke from this dream feeling deeply scared, dark and looked around the room. Dark and looming darkness. Was this a Demigod, maybe demonic?
Then after some thought I realized it was my fear of what I saw that influenced me. Fear of seeing such a being.
Feeling the awesome presence and hearing that prose singing that is somehow still resonating through my being.
I just don’t know what was or is happening.
I was not torn apart as in The Ghost Busters, nor was I being pulled into another world as in the film Prince of Darkness!
A reflection on a song, but more of a motif of how I feel about many songs that once inspired me to something beyond myself, a punk scene.
Gotta Gettaway
Song by Stiff Little Fingers
Gotta gotta gettaway, gotta gotta gettaway
You know there ain’t no street like home
To make you feel so all alone
Plenty of folk to tell you what to do
But they don’t speak the same language as you
()
They wanna have me here
Have me and hold me near
Hold me down fasten and tie
But the cars are all flashing me
Bright lights are passing me
I feel life passing me by
The fuss is buzzing in my head
My father argued and my mother begged
It’s not their words ain’t tugging at me
But gotta stretch them break them get myself free
()
Gotta gotta gettaway, gotta gotta gettaway
I’m leaving home
Funny Stiff Little Fingers played in Los Angeles. In the past I would have done about anything to be there. As a long-time fan who loves their songs.
Yet today out in my lovely garden filled with beautiful tubular purple blossoms, Dionysian Hollyhocks, Excited Jasmine and more, I realized the lyrics don’t appeal to my nature anymore.
I no longer need to “get myself Free.”
“But the cars are all flashing me
Bright lights are passing me
I feel life passing me by,” are not my concern anymore.
“You know there ain’t no street like home
To make you feel so all alone.”
This is in direct opposition to how I feel now.
Because now ‘my street and my home’ is the place where I do not feel alone.
Because being alone or by myself is where I find myself… happy.
I reflect, create, and have made a home that is loving and where I am loved.
This rebellious song of my youth does not hold up for me now.
So, I still love the bands, my youthful rebellion but I am not the young punk anymore. Oh, ya that little punk chick comes out to claim her identity now and then. What a bitch.
Yet a lot of what I hated then I have learned to love now.
Because my home speaks the same language as I do!
I guess I have struggled with this for some time. This time of the year when all the festivals crescendo all over the place… sure once in awhile I will go out… but I now I feel so alone there. The punk scene is not a place to find friends, myself, or wholeness anymore.
