The Gift of Magic

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 reading and understanding from both of Carl Jung’s Red and Black Books…

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 from Jung’s 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.”

Anima and animus

I am always mindful of this equation within myself. Since often the anima and animus are interchangeable within a man or woman. Jung is a man and I am a woman… this activity of randomness is part of my animus work. This is how I collaborate with the male within me… and by the merging of opposites, as the male in me with the female that I am.

I will continue to study this yet this is enough for now.

Chris Bailey’s psychic being is still very strong

Nov 29, 1956 to April 9, 2022.

“A gentleman with the mad soul of an Irish convict poet’: remembering Chris Bailey, and the blazing comet that was The Saints.”

~John Willsteed

“the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.”

Rendering of the band The Saints. Hudley Flipside, 2010.

Happy I bought tickets to see the reformed Saitns this November in Southern California. Autumn 2025.

The author reflects on their deep connection to the band The Saints, particularly after the death of Chris Bailey.

Hudley expresses grief for both Bailey and the passage of time over the decades.

The band has been a part of her life journey, leading to discovering a sense of belonging among misfits and a punk community.

Hudley connects her experiences with Bailey’s life timeline, moving from youth to adulthood.

In her grief, she turns to the works of Carl Jung for solace, recalling insights from The Black Books.

I call it random reading. I read from the last paragraph, allowing my mind to wander freely within the words. The intuitive response is amazing to me, as each reading seems to unearth memories and thoughts I had long buried.

Encouraging action also flows from this process, inspiring me to take bold steps forward. So, with this so much is shared, whether it’s with friends or in solitude, and I am content to move on past my grief, cherishing the lessons learned along the way.

Into a new season of life, knowing that, life endures and blossoms in unexpected ways… this gives me hope like finding the Sun, illuminating the path ahead and igniting a renewed sense of purpose within me!

“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}

(p.162) The Black Books, Volume Two, Carl Jung

“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.”

Picture.. reversed. Picture by Judi Dransfield Kuepper.

Chris Bailey “a curiously beautiful image”

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 an article by John Willsteed. Link Below.

https://theconversation.com/a-gentleman-with-the-mad-soul-of-an-irish-convict-poet-remembering-chris-bailey-and-the-blazing-comet-that-was-the-saints-181059?fbclid=IwAR3o-g8RRKpyNxgIQ6x7QsihP9fTBaDqaBZhzozuQI0oHlaWVenjLWeZ_F8

“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) Carl Jung’s Black Books. Volume two page 175-6.

Siegfried’s dream http://mlwi.magix.net/siegfried.htm https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Books_(Jung)

The Forgotten Room

Just call me HUD…

Once at a pub a guy came up and said,

“What do I call you HUD, Hudley Flipside or Holly?”

I told him, “… just call me what you want…. ‘Hey you’ will do.”

From Hudley Flipside to Literary Legend: 45 Years of Making Words Dance!

Being a behind the scenes punk was fun. It was a lot of hard work and was often boring. Such as picking up the mail every day, typing endless words written by punkers whose writing was hard to read. When no one else would do the work, I did it.

For all the good punks celebrations going on around here. I want to join in and say a little something about the Hudley Flipside name. My last name was Hudson. Someone called me HUD… maybe X-8… and it caught on. Or maybe it was someone from a band before Flipside Fanzine… who knows?

The point being it became my name as a publisher and co-owner of an underground punk Fanzine. I am kind of put upon to say that I did not think the “punk rock community” would be so uplifting and supportive of itself. There were times in the 90s when I ran away from it and hated it. Not the case now.

I’ve learned to appreciate it and try to flow with the best of it. I am part of the punk community whether I like it or not. Anyway, as I am an old dame now, I want to join in with one of the best pictures taken of me as a youngster by Al Flipside. He took a lot of them too. We had thousands of pictures and negatives all around the place. Pictures of cats, bands and beyond.

https://www.amazon.com/author/hudleyflipside

Old post…..

Today I was watching as the wind blew a whirlwind on top of a pool of water. It moved around as a tornado or Golden Ratio. A soft movement as it was. I authored this poem at the end of a Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine CATALOG that I put together. I was most likely 20 or 21, maybe younger or older. A 1980s me. I wonder where I was back then? So goes my journey of Intellectual Property and gathering Flipside merchandise together. It was nice to see it all again. So, here is a place if anyone wants to know some original source of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. I will continue to look for more of it from the 1980s.

Who Cares?

Somewhere in a realm

of something true and light,

Is a purple flower!

And all who pass it

Can never find it,

Because somewhere

Between the loud

Music at shows,

And the morning after shows,

The purple flower

(Which is always shining)

Is lost in us.

This is tearing us apart.

From what all of us could be,

Friends trying to

Understand each other.

Among all the dragons and desires

And lies

are the purple flowers.

Listing to people’s minds

and seeing their desires

Float through their

Personal orbits.

These mystical blooms

Are trying to reach.

Some and help some.

Usually, I find myself.

Painfully talking to

illusions of people

Who are disconnected?

From the reality

Of the purple roses and

Of friendship and of

Life.

The silent ear

Has died, no!?

The loud music is now

Replacing it,

Trying to scream it,

the truth,

but falling away

From the truth.

Is revenge or hate or gossip the trip

You take

or is the silent

Purple flower in your grasp!

… Hudley (1980)

Something’s a foot and I am not talking a rabbit charm!

I am on a journey with Rabbit or Hare. She appeared last night on the kitchen table. A large shadow in her shape.

“Light in the darkness, concealed wisdom, arcane information, intuition and the Goddess”
~ The Element Encyclopedia of Secret Signs and Symbols / Adele Nozedar

Earlier, I remember looking up into the night sky to see the Pleiades above the house. I saw the waxing crescent in place blocking me from seeing the seven sisters. I looked again to see a night star next to the moon. It was not a planet. I checked my sky map. The brilliance with a foggy haze made the night seem altered in some mystical way.

So close to Easter I am a little amazed Hare came to visit. I cleaned my kitchen table off and put up my happy bunny on the table. I will make this Hare’s place! Honoring the presence of this shape shifting, sometime androgynous, multiple symbolic and multi-geophysical spirit.

Three Hares joined at the ears and running in a circle. terriwindling.com

I am waiting to see what story she is sharing with me. A newness, a new awareness comes forth. This is good news.

A note!!! I had a picture with my kitty and a Easter Lily . I took it down and got rid of the flower . I did not know !

“All parts of the Easter lily plant are poisonous – the petals, the leaves, the stem and even the pollen. Cats that ingest as few as one or two leaves, or even a small amount of pollen while grooming their fur, can suffer severe kidney failure.” I did not know ? Never had an issue but out it goes.

Butterfly Crone Mantis.

Crone Mantis Watercolor by Hudley

“The butterfly teaches us to not be afraid of change and transformation for, as warm and fuzzy as a caterpillar may be, it is the butterfly that lives fully and beautifully after having endured the fear and darkness of the unknown to reach the light outside the cocoon.”

~ Pg. 178, SUN BEAR.

Sharing and setting limitations.

I had two dreams last night where my animus was most distinctly attracting my curiosity. I was offered delicious food which I did not have to go shopping for or cook. Then in another dream I was kissed on the neck and lips gently as in some film noir by a man who looked like Tyrone Power. My animus, the unconscious masculine side of a woman, was asking for attention.

I am listening!

Then awake from the dream world enjoying the morning, I was outside with the cats in my garden. A lovely butterfly came with the usual circle dance up to me from the west. I was focused on the symbol of spring as were my cats. Thinking it was a bit early for such a transformation to happen.

I went back into my cave and did research.

I pulled out two books; The Once & Future Goddess, A Symbol For Our Time by Elinor W. Gandon (1989) and Dancing with the Wheel The Medicine Wheel, Workbook by SUNBEAR (1991).

As always, I learned new things about art, nature and being in tune with a moments time of learning, is so important, synchronicity wise.

“Raven writes about what a courageous act of self-exposure it is for a woman to positively identify herself with her work and say something that challenges the existing and prevailing worldview. When she expresses herself without the support of a social, economic, and cultural base she has not participated in the mainstream of the culture. “The culture does not operate from her perspective. Her contribution has neither spoken to it, nor been understood by that system,” which is just what happened to Judy Chicago…

An energetic, assertive woman freely in touch with her own sexuality, and working directly from the erotic power, Chicago evolved an abstract form, the butterfly-vagina. This symbol was to become the core of her new iconography in The Dinner party, a monumental and complex work of art that is often misunderstood…

“The idea is obviously not to reduce all women to cunts, as society itself often does. [Chicago] sees the butterfly as metaphysical references to the whole issue of that it means to be ‘feminine,’ how that word reveals the slant in our values and how those values can be challenged by using the vernacular imagery of the female, ‘I was struggling with the issue of making the feminine holy.’ ”

Pg. 322 The RE-EMERGENCE OF THE GODDESS: A SYMBOL OF OUR TIME.

Arlene Raven (Arlene Rubin: July 12, 1944, Baltimore, Maryland – August 1, 2006, Brooklyn, New York) was a feminist art historian, author, critic, educator, and curator. Raven was a co-founder of numerous feminist art organizations in Los Angeles in the 1970s.

Ritual helps…

Limited Run Block Print by Matthew Hunt
https://www.facebook.com/kittykiller13

“And so, the stars see you.

While you drift away they have their own courses and they watch you.

And listen, they already know your name.”

I viewed part of Bob Dole’s church funeral yesterday. I was touched by a song You Never Walk Alone sung at the event from the musical Carousel. A favorite musical of mine. Richard Rodgers (music) and Oscar Hammerstein II (book and lyrics) 1945. I had to look deeper into this event.

At this funeral I heard and saw diversity shared. I saw President Biden, the 42nd President Clinton and even the only person not wearing a mask Texas’s Ted Cruz.

Trump was not there because he and Bob Dole had a falling away over last year’s election issues.

I was surprised not seeing President Obama. Yet Tom Hanks talked at a WWII memorial after the service. A memorial that Bob Dole willed into being.

A ritual like this brings diversity together. Even in such troubling times. Strange conspiracy theories and political conflicts are uncomfortable to see, and now I feel our country is lost. I feel lost.

I listened to, storyteller, author, and scholar of mythology, anthropology, and psychology, Michael Meade’s podcast MOSAIC VOICES last night and he talked about how important ritual is. The act is all inclusive.

And whether a person is conscious of even being part of ritual … rituals bring us tighter together. It is an inclusive and wonderfully experienced reality to share.

Concerts and clubs or music and bars bring people together to join in this type of ritual. I have learned that this is what brings us together tighter. To experience this inclusiveness. As a cave dweller I miss this.

As the Winter darkness embraces us this solstice, I feel the darkness. Uncomfortably so. Yet it is up to me to find the light and share in the light where I can find it in this overwhelmingly troubled world.

Michael Mead also shares a poem entitled “When You Get Lost” by William Stafford.

What Happens When You Get Lost

By William Stafford

Out in the mountains nobody gives you anything.

And you learn what the rules were after the game is over.

By then it is already night and it doesn’t make any difference

What anyone else is thinking or doing because now you have to

Turn into an Indian.

You remember stories and now you know that the tellers were

Part of all they told.

And everyone else was, and even you.

They’re all around you now, but if you’re afraid you will never find them.

And those questions that people always ask-

“What would you do if…”

They have their own answer right now- nothing.

Some things cannot be redeemed in a hurry no matter what the intentions are.

What could be done had to have been done a long time ago.

Because mistakes have consequences that do not just disappear.

If evil could be canceled easily it would not be very evil.

And so, the stars see you.

While you drift away they have their own courses and they watch you.

And listen, they already know your name.

I find ritual in writing too and I think,

“Oh Boy, I got to write this down!”

This holiday season 2021 I have decided to buy all my Christmas gifts from friends who are part of the ritual of the creative life. All artists are mostly local and some in other states.

I want to share in their joy. What it is for an artist when they feel someone enjoys their work. Also, to experience the wonder of something created and willed forth into this world as an expression that has value to the artist and me. That is inclusion and that is the ritual.

My way of experiencing ritual and bringing light into the world and beyond!

Ophiuchus

Ophiuchus (November 30 – December 18^th) 13th constellation

Click on image to order a Tee-shirt or more fun stuff…. lets celebrate this amazing fellow.

Chiron is a comet, planetoid, or asteroid which is the ruling planet of the zodiac sign Ophiuchus. It is found orbiting between Saturn and Uranus, but its orbit is quite erratic nature.

Asclepius Trained by Chiron.

Rod of Asclepius, staff of Asclepius

The Serpent – entwined Rod (One)

Ophiuchus (November 30 – December 18^th) 13th constellation. Even today, the staff of Asclepius – the symbol of the world health organization pays tribute to the constellation Ophiuchus the Serpent Bearer.

In Mythology:

Ophiuchus was associated with Asclepius, the son of the God Apollo. He became a great healer – in part because of an encounter with a snake one day, he saw one snake and resurrected another laying some herbs on it. Zeus names him the serpent bearer.

Chiron:

As she (Koronis (coronis)) was being consumed on her funeral pyre, he (Apollon) snatched her baby (Asklepios, Asclepius) from the fire and took him to the Kentaros. Kheiron (Centaur Chiron) who was raised by him, taught him medicine, and hunting.

Sweet note: Some mistake the Caduceus two snakes and wings above with the one snake on the Rod. It is different. The Caduceus is associated with Mercury and Hermes Trismegistus.

Lyrics

There’s great danger (danger)
For the loneliest ranger in town
No silver bullets (bullets)
Tonto’s split the scene

Next week will solve your problems
But now, fish fingers all in a line
The milk bottles stand empty
Stay glued to your TV set (TV)

There’s great danger (danger)
At hand most caped crusader of all
No cloak of justice (justice)
Robin’s quit the scene

Next week will solve your problems
But now, fish fingers all in a line
The milk bottles stand empty
Stay glued to your TV set (TV)

Stay glued to your TV set
(TV) Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
(TV) Stay glued to your TV set
(TV) Oh, why, don’t ya, don’t ya, don’t ya?
(TV) Stay glued to your TV set (TV)
(TV) Stay glued to your TV set
(TV) Oh, why, don’t ya, don’t ya, don’t ya?
(TV) Stay glued to that and your TV set (TV)

A dame dumps on a long-time friendship.

JOHNNY O’CLOCK

Mr. Noir Alley cool man said he has viewed this film six times and does not get it. What is it about? Like most Film Noir it is not so easy for some to get it.

As when reading literature or watching Film Noir it does not always follow a linear journey. Sometimes it is like walking labyrinth and you just got to let the heart feel the way.

Love and it’s shadow are the main players here. Good and rotten characters are par for the course that play in different hubs that always lead to the moments of awareness. Therefore, I love Film Noir.

Johnny o’clock is a wise guy with a decent heart. He is part of many hubs. People and their problems are his game, what he capitalizes on. We are watching or dealing with a person and their light and shadow or their psyche.

Such as Harriet Hodson & Nancy Hodson or Nelle & Guido Marchettis. Also, the good and bad cop. Inspector Koch or Chuck Blayden are played against each other in their own hub through this labyrinth.

Love is not always mutual, and crime does not always pay for everyone. Sometimes a hunch is stronger than an intellectual wise guy.

The film JOHNNY O’CLOCK has a nice flow and touches all those erogenous places. Smooth, jumpy and sadness as well as hate & love infuse the atmosphere of this film.

“Mumbling an explanation, muttering servile civilities”

It was a very sad day when Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, ending right to abortion upheld for decades. (Updated June 24, 2022.)

What will grow from this strange mire is unthinkable but as we saw in Kansas, women had their say against the Supreme Court decision. I would be worrisome, Justice Brett M. Kavanaugh and Associate Justice Amy Coney Barrett, about what is about to grow from this mire. For what will come up from the mire to take you, the inverted liberators, down. Shame on you. We will get our justice buy the good votes of many women and our supporters.

It is ironical that the Uranus (Promethean) ~ Aquarian spark for freedom may be inverted into the dark mire once more… into the darkness of our collective unconscious… again.

The many women as, Christine Blasey Ford, Badges… by Hudley Flipside.

“Approaching her property, I noticed a person in Persian lamb, very vexedly pouncing the bell, pounding a brass knocker. “God damn you, Mabel, “she said to the door; then turned, glared at me as I climbed the steps- a tall, intimidating replica of frail unforbidding Miss Marianne Moore (who, it may be recalled, is a Brooklyn lady too). Pale lashes eyes, razor lips, hair a silver fuzz. “Ah, you. I know you,” she accused me, as behind her the door was open by an Irish crone wearing an ankle length apron. “So, I suppose you’ve come to sign the petition? Very good of you, I’m sure.” Mumbling an explanation, muttering servile civilities, I conveyed the butcher’s parcel from my hands to her’ she, as though I’d tossed her a rather rotten fish, dangled it generally until the maid remarked. “Ma’am, ‘tis Mis Mary’s meat the good lad’s brought.”

~ Page 239, A House on the heights, Portraits and Observations, The Essays Of Truman Capote.

Associate Justice Brett M. Kavanaugh and Associate Justice Amy Coney Barrett.

Justice Amy January 28, 1972 (age 49) New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S ~ Sun sign Aquarius.

Justice Brett February 12, 1965 (age 56) Washington, D.C., U.S.~ Sun sign also Aquarius.

Reflecting on US Supreme Court to hear Texas abortion law case on Nov 1 2021. We can participate by listening to live oral arguments.

I will never forget when Justice Amy stated that she read the complete works of Truman Capote in high school. I think upon his creative genius. He was born September 30, 1924, New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S. ~ Sun sign Libra.

Two new Aquarius Associate Justice’s, before us now, will influence this vote. Will Truman’s creative genius and good balanced personality indirectly persuade equality for all women’s’ rights?

A private personal issue of the womb is now before the highest court of the land. I am perplexed and troubled. I look to Truman’s influence on Justice Amy. Somewhere in her is the creative Aquarian spark? Hoping It will inspire justice and good conscious beyond and above this dark mire of politics that face us currently.

In 2019 I heard the infamous Henry Rollins confess before an audience that he grew up in the world of Brett Kavanaugh. He seemed to be apologizing for himself and this awkward Associate Justice. A man who took voice away from a good woman. Silencing Sexual assault allegations by Christine Blasey Ford.

Will he also do the same for Roe v. Wade, the women’s liberation movement, the suffragettes and Planned Parenthood? The list goes on!

Astrology & Psychotherapy. Both can be part of our active imagination!

“Get in there, kid and snap them“

This is a sincere response to a post that I put up on an Astrologer’s Facebook site. No reprise from him and then he deleted my post response. Hurt, because I share the pivotal moments or the beginnings of this subject.

Is it because I wrote about other books besides the ones which this astrologer was promoting… who knows? I thought it was worth documenting.

https://www.forrestastrology.com/blogs/astrology/astrology-and-psychotherapy

It does not take an expert astrologer or Jungian therapist to understand the profoundly deep connection between astrology and psychology. I am an artist, mystic and layperson on the subject.

As once a probationer and member of the Oceanside California Rosicrucian Fellowship I studied Max Heindel’s book “Message of the Stars.” I also have read and reflected on Carl Jung’s books. “Red Book: Liber Novus” and his recently published “Black Books” are on my bookshelves.

I cannot express the full influence which both Max and Jung’s books have had on me. Both being a part of my life for over 30 years. I made the connection within myself. Yes before Liz’s well researched and authored book.

It is quite remarkable.

Recently through a friend I found out about Liz Green’s book “Jung’s Studies in Astrology” and was amazed to find out that Jung wrote into the very same Oceanside California based Rosicrucian Fellowship in his pursuit of understanding astrology.

The Black Book 5, Carl Jung, 1913 – 1932, Copyright October 2020

It was part of his process in creating the Liber Novus. The Rosicrucian Fellowship has a correspondence course in Astrology. Close to over one hundred years now. Yes, the fellowship still offers the same astrology course.

Historically, it is amazing that Jung wrote into the Fellowship. It is a fact-based story. It is quite overwhelming to me. I somehow knew the connection personally. All facts now presented in Liz’s book. I have posted about this before too. It is important to me.

I enjoy your insight and I agree with you in your professionally written Astrology and Psychotherapy article. I have experienced it firsthand for years. Thank you for sharing.

I use astrology in a creative way. I take Jung’s concept of “Active Imagination” to engage in a relationship with the planets of astrology of our solar system and beyond. Just one reason I know it is an exceptionally good connection to have.

Thank You

Lyrics

It’s so obvious, it’s here, it’s there
It’s not just the color, it must be more
At least 17 plus 3 score, this is 77
Nearly heaven, it’s black, white and pink

Just think, there’s more to come
Hum hum hum hum, it’s so obvious

Well it’s alright, listen, can’t wait for 78
God, those RPM, can’t wait for them
Don’t just watch, hours happen
Get in there, kid and snap them

satisfies this dilemma

In Jung’s theory, the anima makes up the totality of the unconscious feminine psychological qualities that a man possesses and the animus the masculine ones possessed by a woman.

So, when a man puts down or suppresses a woman, it tells us that he has a complex or issue with his own feminine. As an individual or collectively. We live in a patriarchal world. There are so many journeys a male has to correct this problem. Myth, religion, and psychology, or maybe just listening to a female for a change.

Women can learn to handle this problem by developing and having a strong ego and addressing the male within her own psyche.

It is so different what a man and woman face and project out into the world. When I am conflicting with a man it is because my animus is acting up and needs to find balance. I must express my intellect and feelings. It is a challenging and rewarding process where I have found bliss, creativity, and hope… one does not always have to dwell in the underground…maybe a good film noir satisfies this dilemma… a heavy metal song or horror film… or a cup cake with lots of frosting. I like having a well-balanced animus and anima. It took a lot of work… I am aware of it always as a process of life. It is not boring in the slightest, either.

https://hudleyflipside.com/2021/05/16/pan-and-psyche-summer-marches-in-2/

https://hudleyflipside.com/2020/05/08/tennessee-williams-the-roman-spring-of-mrs-stone/

https://hudleyflipside.com/2019/03/11/the-wilderness-of-the-wild-west-and-the-gospel-of-thomas/

https://hudleyflipside.com/2020/04/15/it-turns-me-on-enough-said/

Innocuous Surreal-intrinsic

One of the three sister goddesses known as the three Graces who are the givers of charm and beauty in Greek mythology…. I call upon her now…. we need real beauty….,

I dance with Innocuous Surreal-intrinsic. Deluding its hand around my waste and my throat. The magical things of science the vaccines protect me now. I am grateful.

You may think the story I am about to tell you is a bizarre story, but it is real, we are living it… yes now… it is redundant.

I have foresight. It means I can see things. The Covid-19 and all variants are not what you may think. It lives and expands through our bodies. Spreading from human to human …

If you could see it like I can, I encourage you to change your mind about things. If you are playing it safe, you will understand that what you are doing is for the common good of all human beings.

From another realm the Covid-19 virus is like a vast spider’s web. It takes and expands. It goes around and around. Humans are just a source of temporary expanding blissful glory of this multidimensional expanding life force.

It hovers and attacks those who are unaware and stupid. It can read minds and goes after those who play this death game. Some humans are in on it. They think they have control, and they want other people to die. It is a form of mass hysteria of denial that the virus picks up on. It is not stupid. It wants to survive. Until the very end.

I can see it. My foresight tells me to tell people to beware, be careful… yet they play a lost game of denial, ignorance, and defiance. They tease it. This only makes it hungrier. The common good of humanity is not their concern.

I wait and watch from my cave. Deep grieving I feel. I see it all from my electrical fire. I see the variant spreading. A dancing organismic virus web going around and around… and every time I see it from a distance, it sees me very aware.

I give it the finger because mine is clean and washed, my mask is on and I social distance. That is the one thing this creepy multidimensional monster hates.

I hope you know what this vast nympho wants… close together people, human beings who sweat on each other, jumping up and down against each other. It is a nightmare, Surreal-intrinsic… and all I can do is watch from a distance. Innocuous in my cave around the electrical fire, for now… what a real sickness I see… and now It has me.

From darkness to light, Hip Hip.

March so comes the remembering of from darkness to the light, as the days gradually stretch longer and the cold fades into warmth. It is a time for renewal, where nature awakens from its winter slumber, and vibrant colors begin to paint the landscape once more. With each passing day, the sunlight invigorates the spirit, reminding us of the beauty that lies ahead and the hope that blossoms anew. As we reflect on our journeys, we embrace the transition from the shadows of our past to the radiant possibilities that await us in the future.

“A flash of lightning. Dionysus visible in emerald beauty.“

~ Dithyrambs of Dionysus by Nietzsche…

So my walk during the day as I begin to celebrate… Lizard the Wizard was out to play, and leading the way before me. Only to rush up a tree and circle round it… we did take moments to acknowledge each other…

Photo by Hudley “Lizard the Wizard”

Lenai is another name for Maenad, referring to the lenos, the wine press. The Lenaian vessels illustrate women dancing, making music, carrying the thyrsus, and pouring out wine before a pillar with the mask of Dionysos.

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

And in your hand brandishing your night-lighting flame, with god-possessed frenzy you went to the vales of Eleusis where the whole people of Hellas’ land, alongside your own native witnesses of the holy mysteries, calls upon you as Iacchus: for mortals from their pains.

“On an island in the sun

We’ll be playin’ and havin’ fun

And it makes me feel so fine

I can’t control my brain.”

Two and a half years ago

I made it back

From the darkness…

To light

Today I celebrate

While driving home

From my secret market

The special song came on

my car radio

I remember the first day

I awoke

From the darkness to light

It was such a sight

Wizard the Lizard

Doing arm lifts

Singing

“Hip Hip”

Up and down

“Hip Hip”

On top of the red brick

Next to the Wild Promethean Fennel

The aroma still in my nose

When I heard the beat

I was walking around

along the street

I heard the song Island in The Sun

neighbor kids were rocking out

guitar, drums and singing

In their garage.

Today yes today

Driving home

On the anniversary of

Returning to the light

The song played

On my car radio.

In my brain again

I reached up as

The Promethean Thyrsus

Pulled me up and out

Dionysus declaring to me…

“Hip hip

Hip hip”

“We’ll never feel bad anymore

(Hip hip)

No no (Hip hip)

Hip hip

We’ll never feel bad anymore

(Hip hip)

No no (Hip hip)

Hip hip

We’ll never feel bad anymore.”

*An inscription found on a stone stele (c. 340 BC), found at Delphi, contains a paean to Dionysus, which describes his travels.[98] From Thebes, where he was born, he first went to Delphi where he displayed his “starry body”, and with “Delphian girls” took his “place on the folds of Parnassus”,[99] then next to Eleusis, where he is called “Iacchus.” “

“Dionysos with Sirius in noting the similarity of the words Iachos (a Cretan variation on the name Bacchus) and Iakar, the Minoan name for Sirius. Finally, the ancient Greeks themselves considered the vine itself to be a gift of the star Sirius.”

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

“SecondSkin is a medical-grade, transparent, adhesive barrier that protects new tattoos. It is latex-free, waterproof, breathable,” and it protects my symbol new tattoo.

Unbelievably as I was standing to start the process with this miraculous artist, David LeCompte, the song by Weezer came on the in house radio PA. I told the Skin Illustrator about the song and the meaning it had to the Thyrsus. He said,

“We played it just for you.” And I replied with a smile,

“A nice synchronicity meaning right now, I am here at the right time and place “

Thyrsus and Maenad.

“There’s a brute wildness in the fennel-wands—Reverence it well.”

~ Euripides

Prednisone Rape…

Ritual Interlude: Crone’s Crowning.

Watercolor illustrations of the Praying Mantis as symbolism in my art holds meaning in a refreshing way. It is meant to be humorous, provocative, and honest. I have practiced the Crone’s Crowning ritual for years now. It is seeing death on the same terms as transformation. One and the same, yet the idea of transformation is easier to deal with than death.

I have been working on this project for some time and waited until the summer solstice to complete. This ritual is part of the native American medicine wheel of nature.

It is helpful in times of change, pain, and grieving. All about transformation and death, yes, we are all going through a type of world initiation, making this small offering to help others seems a creative opportunity to share from the inside out. Where the feminine and nature come tighter together to heal.

It is almost as if humanity is collectively going through a civil war between the ego and the psyche, science and religion, common sense, and emotionalism.

As I watch big black bumble bees take nectar from the praying mantis tree of purple and green… I can see that nature is consistent and dependable.

I look out the computer room window, my cave. and wonder and talk with the crones from the four directions.

East Crone

Crones of The East

those who sing

the songs of the transforming

The songs of the dying

And songs of the universe.

South Crone

Crones of The South

those who stir the caldron

Of change

That set the feast

For the transforming

And dying.

West Crone

Crones of The West

those who open the door

To the transforming

And the dying

And shed the tears of letting go.

North Crone

Crones of The North

those who wait in the realm of the transforming

The realm of the dying.

Silently helping with smiling faces.

Inspired by Susun S. Weed

Book: Menopausal Years, The Wise Woman Way

Alternative Approaches for Women 30 – 90

Tennessee Williams The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone

“Rome is full of the sound of running water, near or distant, loud or barely distinguishable; running water and stone steps are almost as much the signature of the city as the cream-colored domes against the blue sky: and it was not a thing easy to believe, that the man standing at the other end of the window would be urinating against it.”

~ Tennessee Williams The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone.

Within the story is a journey of the feminine. A journey that is not often revealed in our current culture. I have watched this film many times. The characters have depth and are interesting. I purchased a Kindle Book copy to read a year or two back. Today I read it and I am glad that I did. The film is an exceptionally good rendering but lacks the full depth of William‘s novel.

Two characters in this short novel are the opposite from each other. One is a shy beautiful young man who rests on an Egyptian obelisk and the other is an aged woman who has lost her beauty and rests on an experience she calls drifting.

“American tourists who had stopped a little space away from him, under the Egyptian obelisk whose cryptic pagan engravings the man was appearing to study.”

His clothes are worn and there are holes in his shoes while her clothes become more and more of the highest fashion. This beautiful Apollo has no name and the aged woman is a famous actress, and both find they are in Rome. One was born there the other is a rich tourist. The young man is fixed on her,

“for when a man has an appointment with grandeur, he dares not stoop to comfort…”

She is aware of him yet ignores him. He tries to get her attention and she is frightened by his common ways and poverty. His archetype is her Dionysus, that is reaching for that part of herself that is empty. He wants to fill that emptiness with passion and happiness. A stillness that speaks of illumination. He taps, appears in reflections from windows and gestures an ancient salute to try and get her attention.

“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 things disguised it a little, the dreadful poverty of his clothes and his stealth of manner. The only decent garment he wore was a black overcoat which was too small for his body.

Its collar exposed a triangle of bare ivory flesh, no evidence of a shirt. The trouser-cuffs were coming to pieces. Naked feet showed through enormous gaps in his shoe leather. He seemed to want to escape the attention which his beauty invited, for whenever he caught a glance he turned aside from it. He kept his head lowered and his body hunched slightly forward.

And yet he had an air of alertness. The tension of his figure suggested that he was continually upon the verge of raising his voice or an arm in some kind of urgent call or salutation.”

The film does not touch in on many of the especially important elements that hint upon the magic of female initiation contained in Williams’s novel. The film is much darker than the path of the story.

“…by the balustrade of the terrace. She looked down from it, absently, into the well of the little piazza below. The last remnant of sunlight was touching the pagan inscriptions upon the dull rose granite of the obelisk.”

Film December 28, 1961: Karen Stone (Vivien Leigh)

Karen Stone is waking up to a place within herself. A place that is not moving. She lost her husband to death and has given up her acting career. Karen lost her beauty and the pretense of years of heartless ambition. Her drifting is now partly filled with another young man. He has a name, a position, and has many of the ambitious qualities that she herself once had.

“Paolo is by way of being a little—what was the word she had used? Oh, yes, marcbetta! Something a little superior to a whore but still something on the market superior mostly in being more expensive, an article of greater luxury and refinement, what the French called poule de luxe…”

One difference is he awakens a passion in her she has never experienced before. Even after menopause she is now finding a new place in her life.

“The past was, of course, the time when her body was still a channel for those red tides that bear organic life forward. Those rhythmic tides had now withdrawn from her body, leaving it like a tideless estuary on which desire rested like the moon’s image on a calm sheet of water.”

Maybe only moments open to her where she does not experience that feeling of drifting.

“She feels as if time has stopped. in her heart, what would she find as she moved? Was it simply a void, or did it contain some immaterial force that still might save as well as it might destroy her?”

A shining happiness is approaching Karen Stone that may be something ancient and good.

“Her head was remarkably quiet as if a savage bird had been locked in it which had now flown out through some invisible opening.”

I love the film but it is only a shy companion next to Tennessee William’s novel.

notes All quotes are from the film and or novel by Tennessee Williams The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_obelisks_in_Rome

Trinità dei Monti

41°54′22.1″N 12°28′59.6″E Above the Spanish Steps. An Aurelian copy, although smaller, of the Flaminio obelisk of Ramses II in the Piazza del Popolo, for the Gardens of Sallust. Found by the Ludovisi and moved to the Piazza di San Giovanni in Laterano in 1734, but kept horizontal. Erected in 1789 by Pope Pius VI.

https://pharaoh.se/pharaoh/Ramesses-II

http://www.obelisks.org/en/flaminio.htm

https://archive.org/stream/twelveegyptiano00parkgoog/twelveegyptiano00parkgoog_djvu.txt

Death “Leave Your Body and Soul at the Door”

“It’s funny how pride and ego are the very last human vanities to go.”

~ D. Brinkley

Death is heavy on my mind these days. So many have died due to this virus all over the world. Putting politics aside I want to look at the fear we hold in us about death.

I have many books on my bookshelves that speak of life, death, and rebirth. One does not have to have a religiosity to participate in this rite of passage. It is out of our control. I do not have the direct quote here, but I remember reading about how William Blake felt about death in one of his many quotes. That he would rather see the afterlife as filled with lovely angels. His heaven was a blissful imagined place.

“The sensations verged on orgasmic, yet my thoughts were spinning a mile a minute.” ~ D. Brinkley

I took two books to look at today. To read and reflect upon once again. One is Dannion Brinkley’s book Secrets of the Light, and the other is The Tibetan Book of The Dead.

Both books complement each other in that they talk about death. Dannion was struck by lightning, died and was brought back to life. He has written three books about his near-death experiences. The Tibetan Book of The Dead is a creative and ritualistic book about death in a helpful way. It speaks of the Bardo.

“Bardo means gap; it is not only the interval of suspension after we die but also suspension in the living situation; death happens in the living situation as well. The bardo experience is part of our psychological make-up.” ~ Commentary

This is where the world finds itself right now. A gap between the dead and the living, between the staying home and going out and between the past and future. Each moment is the place of bardo, and we are, in a profound sense, all being struck by lightning. We are responsible for this, what is happening in our world. How can we make it better? Well, that is up to you.

“There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

~ Albert Einstein

Wicked Men

Alexis Zorba: God has a very big heart but there is one sin he will not forgive. [slaps table] If a woman calls a man to her bed and he will not go.

I watched two films last night. The films are Wicked Woman and Zorba the Greek. In general, both are particularly excellent films. One is a 1950s Film Noir, and the other is a cultural film from the 1960s.

Each film captures a time in history. A snapshot of how things may have been. Characters in both films are believable, realistic while also having a diabolical and magical edge.

As a woman I captured a motif. It came forward and it uncomfortably struck up against my conscious feminine. Both films are from a winning male psychology.

The men can fuck up, screw up, cheat, lie and even kill. They get away with it and so have a happy conclusion. Almost unaware as they walk over all the women in their lives.

The women on the other hand always get the short end of the stick.

They get let down, lied to, abandoned, used, and killed.

In the film Wicked Woman Beverly Michaels as Billie Nash is an independent woman who is on the move to find a place to put her roots. Roots within a man and a place in the sun. Billie keeps playing One Night in Acapulco by Buddy Baker, on the jute box.

She is tall, smart, and has a graceful walk. Men are after her the whole time. The one time she focuses on a man, he takes her for a fool, and they plan a sinister plot that fails!

Richard Egan, as Matt Bannister gets off the cheating hook and Billie is extorted, seduced, and must split on a bus.

She must beat it.

She is the Wicked Woman that gets the blame. Billie is smart and helpful, yet the man traps are all around her.

As a bar server she is wise with her words as every man tried to get her. She even helps her victim drink all the alcohol she wants even though her husband says no.

This bar did not have mixed drinks, only shots and beer. I like Billie’s character and understand her.

As a woman I cannot tell you how many times I had to take the short end of the stick and leave on a train or bus for something I did not do.

Even if she is guilty so is Matt and his drunk ass wife. Even Matt’s alcoholic wife sides with her husband over her friendship with Billie.

I think the two dames in this narrative should have been wiser and just told Matt to go screw.

They could have sold the joint and headed for Mexico.

To lie in the sun a little bit, drink and have fun.

As Billie said,

“They like women with Blonde hair and light skin in Mexico.”

Anthony Quinn as Alexis Zorba is our male Zorba the Greek. The film is a cultural phenomenon. It is what it is in an absurd way with a very excellent soundtrack.

The hard-edge Greek patriarchy is saturated with tradition. A village that is self-sufficient with a thread of history and honor.

Every man in this film is an asshole except the town fool.

Zorba is a creative natural genius that has a compassion that is appropriate at times. He teaches Sirtaki to Basil, Alan Bates.

A wonderful Greek dance which shows how Zorba relieves his pain of living life while confronting death. Charming in a way.

Lola, Madame Hortense, and the Widow are parts of this film if only indirectly put among the friendship between Basil and Zorba.

It is correct when Zorba tells Basil that the whole town of men are jealous, and all want the widow. A lovely young thing.

Like all the men wanting Billie in the Film Wicked Woman. In this case the lovely young woman is trapped, stoned, and then has her throat cut.

Premeditated murder by a whole community of men and their old crone women. They are jealous of her youth and beauty.

Madame Hortense dies in this film thinking she is married to Zorba to cover up for his earthy affair with a younger woman named Lola.

Regardless of this unbelievable cruelty the men dance away their pain.

These two films are part of the winner male psychology, a complex construct that often shapes perceptions of masculinity and the roles men play in society. As a young girl growing up, I had this crap dumped down my sensitive unconscious psyche. This kind of male world reflects not only the ideals and aspirations embedded in these narratives but also the expectations placed upon men to conform to certain archetypes.

The portrayal of masculinity in these films can be both fascinating and troubling, as it presents an array of behaviors and philosophies that influence real-life interactions and relationships.

I am glad I am wise to it now. Understanding these dynamics allows me to critically engage with the content rather than accept it at face value. I can enjoy these films for their place in history, recognizing their artistic merits while also acknowledging the underlying messages that may perpetuate outdated notions of gender.

This awareness brings a richer perspective to the viewing experience, enabling a deeper exploration of the themes presented.

Yet, I want to affirm to these men that they are playing against the feminine rules. The rules of engagement in this world are not solely dictated by traditional masculine values but involve a more nuanced interplay between genders.

It’s essential for men to recognize that the feminine experience offers insights that can enrich their understanding of connection and empathy. Acknowledgment of this duality can lead to healthier relationships and a more equitable society, one where both masculine and feminine attributes are celebrated rather than suppressed.

Or ignored all together.

Man at bar: “How about having a drink with me?”

Billie: “I can’t it’s against the rules.”

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is img_1231.jpg

We must explore!

Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside

The Naked Grace.

These times are asking us to go within. Over the generations we have taken this journey within. By choice, by accident and spiritually. Through drugs, side effects from prescribed medication or by magic.

A song can amplify this reality. A writer can share the experience. Songs filled with lyrics are poetry put to music. The images come forth and touch us. These three songs came to mind today when I was out in the garden pulling tall grass from the rich soil. It all came together. The dark earth holds things. Pulling on the grass and releasing the soil is a forward effort of movement. The dark moist earth has a relationship with our psyches.

I believe that unless we willfully take this inward journey as an individual it will be forced upon us. On a personal level or a generational level is how it goes. Anytime we suppress our shadow, blame others, or spread hate it is bound to a generation. Are we not observing this right now? Songs can help us. I need them like I need flowers in my garden or kitty cats to hug.

Here are three songs that explain this journey variable. From the 1960s Catch the Wind by Donovan is a peaceful song. From 1985 Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo is an amazing song that shares some interesting historical mysteries. Lastly from 1983 The Forbidden Zone by Charged GBH, one dose and you take their hand into a strange journey of a musician’s psyche.

♦Donovan is an unusual songwriter and folk singer that touches upon the light side of our psyche. He reminds us to remember the beauty in life. It is around us and in us if we go looking for it. Our psyches do often look back at us. We can reflect on this soft beauty from time to time.

“When sundown pales the sky

I want to hide a while

Behind your smile

And everywhere I would look, your eyes I’d find.”

♦Oingo Boingo’s song is remarkably interesting and worth listening to intensely. As a young punk back in the late 1970s I had an Oingo Boingo badge on my jacket. I was approached by a couple of punk chicks who mocked me and belittled me for wearing it. A time when the first signs of punk cultism started to show its ugly face.

“I was struck by lighting, walkin’ down the street

I was hit by something last night in my sleep

It’s a dead man’s party who could ask for more

Everybody’s comin’, leave your body at the door

Leave your body and soul at the door.”

“For English occultist Aleister Crowley, who was a painter himself, the artist ranked above the magician on the totem pole of illumination, and he considered poetry and art as precious tools for transforming one’s innermost psychic visions.”

~ Chapter Spencer Kansa, Pg. 92 Wormwood Star, The Magickal Life of Marjorie Cameron.

♥A wild journey inward to the shadowy psyche is found in the book City Baby from Highgate to Hawaii… Life, and GBH by Ross Lomas.

“This went on for hours. More and more of the same. It was incredibly intense. God and Jimi and Anne Carpenter and the devil and the fucking taxi driver, fighting over my soul right up to the point I passed out in exhaustion.”

~ Pg. 120.

“Take my hand and we’ll explore,

The forbidden zone.

When you’re in your own tree,

But don’t know if anybody’s home.”

Jimi Hendrix was playing guitar while Anne was a nun of salvation, this may show us that his journey was amplified by many elements as a fight for his soul. When the shadow opens to us it is always a powerful trip. Ross is stronger for his experience. A bite like this prepares us for outward tragedies as we are facing today.

It turns me on. Enough said

A reflection on our “anima and animus.“

“Cripples, Rebels and Criminals

Few of us can envision a genuine androgyne and few of us want to be androgynous. Like many potent words, androgyne has lost its true meaning. Nowadays, it suggests unisex, a mushing together of undifferentiated masculine and feminine energies so weak in themselves that they cling together to survive.

A genuine androgyne, psychologically speaking, is an archetype image in which the conscious differentiation of masculine and feminine energies is always being finely tunes. It is like a Stradivarius violin or cello, wrought to reverberate with the strength and delicacy of both energies in exquisite balance.”

Chapter 5 The Ravaged Bridegroom / Masculinity in Women by Marion Woodman

Now I try to feel it as often as I can. When I get the hard-on for life. Flowers blooming, a song, my friends all help to amplify this experience.

Jung Remarked of someone:

“At least she is trying to work on her animus and that is the most meritorious thing that anyone can do.”

~ Pg. 161 The Animus: The Sprint of Inner Truth in Women by Barbara Hannah

Love this picture my son took of me. It is that time when I united the male and female within me. Symbolized by my two tattoos of Dionysian Hollyhocks.

I was reading that Indian Gurus’ overall goal is to unite all religions of the world. They also talk about united male female gods. Which is beyond us as very external and internal archetypes that we all share consciously or unconsciously.

A character archetype in unique terms is a type of character who represents a universal pattern, and therefore appeals to our human ‘collective unconscious.’

This is extremely simplistic I know. Also, the religions of the world have tended to be very male oriented. As most cultures or all cultures for the last two thousand years.

As a religious studies major in college, BA and Masters, I always had a thorn in my side.

With in-depth Jungian Psychology I have found the answers to many of my concerns. For me it was uniting the masculine and feminine within myself, or in Jungian terms the “anima and animus.“

“Together they form a divine pair, one of whom in accordance with his Logos nature, is characterized by Pheuma and Nous rather like Hermes with his ever-shifting hues, while the other, in accordance with her Eros nature wears the gestures of Aphrodite, Helen (Selene,) Persephone and Hecate. Triple Goddess

Both of them are unconscious powers, “gods” [archetypes] in fact as in the ancient world…”

Pg. 21 AION Carl Jung

I have a “hard-on” for life. Even within the diversity of life right now. I can’t help getting one when I see flowers in bloom and the whole of nature in a type of rapture. Welcome Spring or Autumn as my favorite times of the year.

It is not the male kind of hard-on but it something inside. Not sexual but very blissful-orgasmic at times

It is ironical for me to have these feelings while also having to balance it out with my compassion for what we are all going through right now historically. I know it is a dark time, a real challenge for all of us in different ways.

I am mindful of those suffering.

They are not alone when we think upon them. I have love in my home that comforts me.

Also, the human Ego is my friend.

I think that males and females have a different relationship with their Egos.

I feel males need to let their Egos float downstream a little.

I think females should ride their Egos.

It is good to be admired as it is to admire another.

I like the feeling of appreciation as well as when I feel the feelings of the appreciation for others.

As a female riding her Ego it is like riding in a canoe.

Sometimes the river is smooth and glossy.

Other times it is a prissy fucking nightmare.

Yet we need to express our realities to the world…

as I am doing here.

My self especially as contrasted with another self or the world.

The Calendar

In memory of…

Sigrid Hudson Bishop

“Eternity interrupts. It is as if there is a plane where there is clock time and then eternity puts its hand in for a minute and you have an archetypal experience. You have a feeling of what Jung said was “the infinite” and then very often the watch reacts to that.”

~ The Palace of the Cat: The Cat Marie-Louise Von Franz.

This is a short story about a friend. I find the best friends are not the ones that you make yourself but are the ones that find you. They stand the probability of time. They happen without planning and endure without much effort. She was like that. I first met her online on Facebook. We had common friends of friends. She was also interested in music as well as William Blake and Carl Jung. She showed up at my first speaking event at Whittier College.

Later she told me about a Punk event at UCLA college that I applied to and was accepted at. She was there for me and I shared many stories and my creations with her.

I think I inspired her to go to Pacifica Graduate Institute offering degrees in the clinical psychology, counseling, mythological studies and depth psychology.

At this time last year 2018, she offered me an extra William Blake calendar. I accepted it with honor. Every day I looked at the calendar and thought of her. Happy to have such a friend. Remarkable I am taken back by the last image of the calendar of The Archangel Michael Foretelling the Crucifixion. She passed away December 2019.