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.

Imagine it all coming together again. No

( Sorry to say Covid-19 hit and this event was canceled. 2020 )

Amazingly we are still alive. Punk Rock Bowling with the celebration of 40 Years of the Circle Jerks and Charged GBH this spring. I am besides myself with joy to be attending. Yes, all the bands seem interesting, yet my history also includes Madness.

Madness:

When I was a 19-year-old punk I was looking for a 45 by Prince Buster entitled Madness. This stirred me on a strange journey to a Los Angeles record store. They never could locate that 45 for me. Then the band came touring. At least the name of the band was right. Playing the Whisky A Go Go.

I remember dancing to the band with Kick Boy Face from SLASH MAGAZINE (my first Punk Rock correspondence.) (Slosh and Flopside) It was grand beyond grand. Imagine it all coming together again.

Punk Rock Bowling 2020

Some of my best punk memories.

GBH:

Ross’s bass guitar case. GBH 1980s

I am standing in this image next to Ross’s first bass guitar case. He gave it to me. He bought a new one. I lost it. Yet, my mom had put it in a special place.

After her death we cleaned out the basement and their it was. How happy that mom preserved some wonderful punk history.

I still have it and will give it “will it” to my sons. I love it like punk rock. I hope I am not sucking on Ross’s “tits” when I say I love him too.

Thanks for thinking of me back then. All the best and looking forward to Las Vegas for a week of punk and beyond bliss.

Circle Jerks:

FLipside Fanzine — Circle Jerks Cover by Edward Colver

City Baby from Highgate to Hawaii, Life and GBH by Ross Lomas. One of my most popular posts in ten years…

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

Al Jaffee, King of the Mad Magazine Fold-In, Dies at 102

“Allan Jaffee (born Abraham Jaffee; March 13, 1921 – April 10, 2023) was an American cartoonist. He was notable for his work in the satirical magazine Mad, including his trademark feature, the Mad Fold-in. Jaffee was a regular contributor to the magazine for 65 years and is its longest-running contributor. In a 2010 interview, Jaffee said, “Serious people my age are dead.”

~Mechanic, Michael (September 24, 2010). “Cartoonist Al Jaffee, the Original Mad Man”. Mother Jones. Retrieved October 10, 2012.

These are the Benadryl days.

Dear Teachers,

Too much listening to Elton John and remembering my crush on Bernie Taupin. Foggy dreams. Dreams where the threads of remembering can’t be pulled down into this world.

A changing mixture of memories swirling around me that I have experienced in real time. Remembering my, heart heart ~fun fun, days as a youth and teenager.

As sitting under the pool table in the boy’s room reading Mad Magazine and Playboy. Alfred E. Neuman or cartoonist Gahan Wilson, Allan Jaffee or Jack Davis went on to inspire me in my own fanzine days.

Where I created images or doodled between the pages.

Magazines are now becoming obsolete. Newspapers stands too except for the billionaires that do resurrect some.

A fight that is not going to win.

To my teachers that came from those awesome perverted magazines.

Love,

Hudley Flipside aka Holly

Jack Davis Mad Magazine original!

Rocket Man Review: The Film

PUNK ROCK COLLEAGUE & HISTORIAN AND PROFESSIONAL CONSULTANT HUDLEY FLIPSIDE

Centrifuge Going So Swiftly

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

~Ray Bradbury. The Rocket Man

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

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

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

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

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

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

1970 my favorite

To my two sons … 🌸

The Avengers, the Dils and the Alley Cats.

In memory of Jimmy Wilsey

Sunday May 26, 2019.

The Avengers, The Dils and The Alley Cats + many special guests (A Celebration of the Life of Jimmy Wilsey) at Echoplex

Before the show I went to an Italian Restaurant nearby. I sat at the bar and had a Guinness and a plate of pasta.

Part of my DNA

It will be the time to join with punk comrades and celebrate our originators and characters of the early California punk scene. The Avengers, the Dils and the Alley Cats.

Before The Avengers went on a DJ at the event played The Saints – (I’m) Stranded. The sound went on and I swear the earth moved as the song grabbed my spine… an earthquake…. it was a Saints’ Hallelujah “amber” moment.

Just got this from a friend… a nice treat that makes life bearable. (signed copy and 2024 November The Saints Tour)

Once someone dies, their life becomes a story, infinite, Like a song forever more.

Back then it was a tight underground, alternative punk rock scene. Bands were unclassified and their songs unique. I found myself melting into a wild alchemy of youths that had something new to say.

We were finding our voice. All the unknown characters were there. Nobody creates a scene alone. Seeing punk bands during the early Los Angeles punk scene, I was not always aware of all the members in the band.

Instead, the feel of drums, bass and guitar grabbed me into a wild joyful submission. After a few times seeing a band, the lyrics and the vocals brought depth and understanding to any band’s song.

I was shaking to the sounds, wanting to go to all the shows. After getting involved with Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine all the players, in the bands, became focused and clear. I listened to their voices.

I got to know them on a personal level. I went from being a face in the crowd to writing about punk bands and getting to know band members as friends.

The sound of the Avengers was my grounding or anchoring into that early punk scene. Those first days I awoke……

It was fantastic! The Dils I learned about indirectly through other Flipside staff writers.

The Alley Cats was the band, they were the heart of the early punk scene which I got to know the best at that time.

Jimmy was a part of that scene.

I did not know him personally but indirectly. Yet his sound moved me into states of wild frenzy. I am grateful for all the vinyl records that contain that story, song, or sound of our youthful rebellion. Of Jimmy’s youthful rebellion.

Yet a “live” band is always best. It is great to still be here, currently, part of our punk rock history. Thanks to Randy and Penelope for letting me speak today. To show my love and respect.

We were wild and knew all the songs by heart by The Dils, The Alley Cats and the Avengers.

I will be there handing out some badges joining in the event in memory of our youthful rebellion that is still the heartbeat of this crazy continuity of punk rock that still drives our DNA onward.

https://www.facebook.com/events/623081094804740/

Got to sing along, scream along to this one…

RIP Chris Bailey and Algy Ward

2016 Film 20TH CENTURY WOMEN

20^TH CENTURY WOMEN

Photo included in this Film

Black Flag with Keith Morris Singing. Last image of this band in their original lineup.1979

Nice to be acknowledged in closing credits.
Very honored to be a part of the film.

“Black Flag live in the basement of the Church in Hermosa Beach. Greg Ginn, myself, Robo and Chuck “The Duke” sandwiched between Dez Cadena on Greg’s right and Brian Grillo on Chuck’s left.” ~ Keith Morris

My review of Film….

In the film 20th Century Women …women are at the table.

Masseuse.

At about 8 o’clock PM.

The unpredictable Crazy days are far behind me, and the routines of life have set in.

Family and cats bring the little rituals of life which bring symmetry into the chaos of living such as racing through traffic and surviving, watching current politics, and not having a heart attack, and realizing that we all die.

It is comforting to know that we live in a recycling universe, or so it seems. The point being within the light and darkness of life are the routines of everyday living that do bring joy.

Last night was a normal trash night. The difference in the routine is when husband said that there are two cars parked in our unmarked-marked trashcan places. The usual sounds of annoyance on his part made me think about visiting with our new neighbors and asking them to move one of the cars so we might have a place for our trashcans.

The green sweat coat with 1976 on it pulled over my shoulders and I was off. I found myself in front of the neighbor’s house. Placing a knock knock and then pushing a ring ring upon their door and door button. Something expanded when I heard the ring ring.

It was a different kind of ring ring. It being a tasteful and alluring sound. The front door was half window, and I could see in as one of my neighbors looked back at me. I mumbled something about the trashcans. The neighbor’s eyes widened open.

Dressed in a light blue robe, looking confused, my neighbor opened the door slightly. Having a face that was angular like something out of a Pablo Picasso painting such as Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907 during his cubism period; caught me off guard.

The new neighbors had radically changed the format and structure of the house since the last owner. As the door opened there was only a white hallway that met about halfway through the house. Directly on the wall before me was a giant painting of what looked like a Toulouse-Lautrec, Jane Avril Dancing painting.

Yet this painting was one woman with her leg up and a giant red dress like a blooming flower. Once there were two rooms here, one leading right and one left. One into a game room and the other into the kitchen. Not anymore. Straight ahead was a veil into another reality.

Our conversation was quick. I told the neighbor our problem. I was told that each of them had a massage therapist come out for a special treat massage and that the cars were theirs. I was also told that both were almost finished.

Like clockwork each masseuse left in their two separate cars. I put out my two trash cans under the crescent moon of a very dark night. Feeling nicely surreal and wondering about our new neighbors?

I wish I could say that they turned out to be nice… the neighbors got worse and worse and now they have moved.

Who’s Soul did Frankenstein’s monster have?

“‘…from that moment [he] declared everlasting war against the species, and more than all, against [Frankenstein] who had formed [him] and sent [him] forth to this insupportable misery.’”

Shelley, Frankenstein, Chapter 16, p. 12

Once upon a time I found the novel by Mary Shelley, Frankenstein, the new Prometheus. I became friends with Frankenstein’s monster. He was not the film version because I looked to the quality of his brilliant soul.

I authored a short story entitled, Who’s Soul did Frankenstein’s Monster Have? I put the story in a folder and took it with me wherever I went. I was inspired and torn by my insight.

I felt I may have understood something no one else ever dared to wonder about. This was back in the 1980’s. Then, as busy, and as careless as a young punk might be, I lost the folder at a Mexican restaurant up-town Whittier, CA.

This loss haunted my nights. Back then backing-up-files was not so easy. This may have been before floppy disks. I did not make a copy of my short story of a monster’s revelations.

I did keep the little doodles about the story which I will share today. I did not misplace the folder. Someone took it and still, has it?

As one gets older time seems to bend backwards. It comes towards you so you can say hello again to those times of youthful inspiration.

I looked through all of my plastic boxes to find these images in my art closet. So glad the doodles were safe and not lost.

4th fave song… bunch of goons !

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

As a young punk all the words were being thrown around. Anarchy, chaos, discord and mayhem.

It rang around me via songs, voices and written lyrics and published fanzines. and punk friends. I never thought the ideals I supported would manifest via a gangster presidency?

These words were used as ways to inspire creative freedom. This words for me meant the ability to do things on your own terms to help others not to tear them apart.

To confront cruel authority, not to create a foundation for dictatorship or fascist tendencies.

So much for deconstructionist if born again AA punks’ side with the enemy. It is a wake up call for us all.

How to keep a conversation going is not always possible.

Humor as, it was only for a fun experience, can be thrown in there. Yet I am keeping my integrity at my hip. My mind set to do it myself. As always, it may not be popular.

On my mind when i woke up….

I know what I write here. It is the pun-rock curse. A fan, promoter band thing. As a fan it was my dream to meet the bands and the promoters. The intimacy and friendships that formed are endearing for me. There was a time and place about eight years ago that I brought two bands together. Rikk Agnew Band (cult of ‘58) and The Black Widows (carry a big stick). It was a time when the San Fernando Valley was beaming with a few hot spots or punk and alternative music hubs. My one promotion time right after a 10-year Flipside Fanzine flopped. My mom had just died and I had two boys that needed me at 8 and 16 and I was acting like the teenager… for a while. Eight years ago is fast growing time for two boys. Life is new and exciting. Eight years for a 52-year-old is slow and precious. I introduced A Pretty Mess and Rikk Agnew and Panic Movement to a good night of old-time buddies and new ones. I was trying to bring together many aspects of the scene at that time and place that I loved. I like small shady clubs and intimate encounters. It was a happy night of loud live music. I was delighted and still think about that night often. I see that the Rikk Agnew Band and The Black Widows will be playing at Cafe NELA coming up this month. Sweet. I guess seeing this event brought back a few fantastic memories. So much has changed but this is so surreal & feels good to my old punk rock bones.

https://www.facebook.com/events/2180430575536192/?notif_t=event_calendar_create&notif_id=1535937037942310

A special power-up Super hero from Flopside Comics…

Something is in the air here at Flopside Comics ! Whirling power ramp-up takes down the EVIL! Bring down the power of assholes of highest degree ! Bring clarity to the opposing chaos and negative propaganda! A direct and focused SUPER FUCK! It’s real magic!

A promise of bliss and orgasmic creative variables for the incorruptible !

You know what I’m talking ’bout!

Pancakes… in the hot oil…

Trump’s lawyers are in the hot oil… they have ruined their bright

reputations !!

and have become pancakes with pesto… Testaroli.. with pesto and garlic… and lots of cheese…. eat them down Mr. Trump…. hahahahah poor Rudy and Emmet…

Flopside COmics.. Be More than an assholi !!!!

July moves into August

July moves into August. A time of justice and heat, a time of foresight and deep. For me it is about the news… some bad and some good news. I know this time of the year to be delirious dark and forbidden. Today it has reached an illuminating place of thanksgiving.

Between our psyche and the cosmos is magic. Magic moves between our hidden unconscious coming forth from our dreams. Yes, that Magic coming with psychic foresight of knowing. Real causality or synchronicity does not matter to me. Natural magic! I live in all combinations.

Yesterday we went to Naval Air Station Point Mugu. Driving to Ventura from the San Fernando Valley can be harsh on a Sunday. We found a little farming street to follow down to Point Mugu. Its romances are the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Which is why we were there.

My dad was a WWII Veteran. As kids we enjoyed fishing on the pier that is located on this naval base.

My husband and I sat in our car for some time. Wondering if we could approach and visit the pier for old memories. We did. A tight solider asked for husband’s driving-license. As the soldier was taking the license from husband, I explained my family story. Before you could think we were quickly told to make a U-turn. No goodbyes or safe journeys.

Point Mugu has since merged with nearby Naval Construction Battalion Center Port Hueneme to form Naval Base Ventura County (NBVC).

We ended up at Port Hueneme Historical Society Museum. A sweet little place that smelled pleasantly old! The building was filled with old women and older history items. Outside the rather small building were many monarch butterflies. Hub bobbing around ourselves like best friends. We were then told the story.

It sounds like a magical potion. Milk weed, Cosmo flowers and chrysalis. It was the story of how someone took the time to love the process of this lovely butterfly. All it takes is a little love and a few nasty weeds to attract the attention of nature’s finest beauties.

Today upon waking up I enjoyed a particularly good dream. A dream I have been waiting for since my mother’s death. It was a closure dream. In this dream, the husband opened the front door to the usual UPS knock. There was another package, another calculus book, or similar book, for the kids. Then we heard another knock on the front door. This time I opened the door. From top to bottom the front door was filled with packages. My husband gave me a guilty look. A pouting praying mantis face.

“It is not Christmas time,” I said.

I pulled out one of the packages. A large white one. A box that might conceal a dress or new pants. Then I saw on top the name ‘Holly’ written in cursive.

“How could mom give me this after her death?”

A wonderful gift from her. That is what mom would do. Write our names on top of our gifts. It was her writing…. I know it by heart!

Today has reached an illuminating place of thanksgiving.

Summer Poem # 1

My oasis
And cave.

Not reaching out
But reaching within.

Agathos daimon holds my heart
Humidity holds me back.

“Coninuctio” “in mercurio”
Planting seeds
Which do not ripen.

Outside my oasis
Seeds dry in the heat.

Inside the cave
I listen to Mercurius speak.

“The desires of the mind
Will take you nowhere.”

Summer pit… looking for Dulcinea ?

It feels heavy this summer. We went and got our first donuts in months. One from Blinkys and it was OK. Been going there for 27 years and the place is not holding up to it’s once high standards. Too expensive. They use Pine Sol now and it smells more like an old sleazy bar than a donuts galore bakery. The corner of Topanga Canyon / Dumetz is not holding up either. Not the place of red-hot love, hippies hitchhiking or getting a cold tall glass bottle of Doctor Pepper on the way to the Whisky A Go GO to see some small time punk bands of a small town punk scene.

I guess my Muses are in the South of France this summer leaving me dry as the sun here this summer.

Anyway while looking through some old pictures on my computer I came across the images above. A little inspiration form the cosmos … that can do it somethings. Oh ya and a song from the film Man of La Mancha !

A Daily “Fuck” Gazette To Jeff “THE WEASEL” Sessions and To Donald “JACKASS” Trump…

A dream…. of whirling triangles…

To Jeff “THE WEASEL” Sessions and To Donald “JACKASS” Trump…

I had a dream…. last night … or was it a vision….?!

As told to us by Mr. Shit~ anarchist, atheist with a loving good conscience and beyond….

Mr. Shit woke up this morning with something on his mind. For an old punk with dementia he can be as sharp as a dull knife. He talked about whirling triangles that spoke of “…four combinations of wisdom,” and he talked about how he was part of the fifth part of the whirling triangle equation. “Me, Juno the Asteroid Goddess and the naked Grace AGLAEA.” He told us that it was a puzzle to him and as symbolic as hell or heaven… yet seemed as real as could be!

He told us about the strange dream. He also told us how he was born. He yelled that he remembered his story and yelled this, “He was born from a woman, in an alley, on a bus crossing a border.” This came to his mind because in his vision / dream AGLAEA told Mr. Shit that, “I (she) was born from the thought of Apollo the Hermaphrodite!” Mr. Shit also told us that Juno said she was born from chaos. Singing that, “She stands up for Women’s rights!”

Mr. Shit told us that in his dream he was in an alley. He walked up to a trash can. He saw many things there, yet a couple of books were glowing. He opened one of the books and he read…

“Visit orphans and widows in their distress~ James 1:27” and again flipped through the book and read, “Thus says the Lord: Do Justice and righteousness and deliver from the hand of the oppressor him who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the resident alien, the fatherless, and the widow, nor shed innocent blood in their place.” ~ Jeremiah 22:3

He flipped through another book. He read an outlined quote.

“Have you considered him who calls the judgment a lie? That is the one who treats the orphan with harshness, And does not urge (others) to feed the poor. ~ (107:1-3) Holy Our ‘an.

In his dream he fell back and one of the books fell with him because the whirling triangles moved about him. He was dizzy with wonder. Yet a strength held him up with two large green rough legs. Like claws from another mother. She told Mr. Shit about the exodus of all people, animals, and creatures of the earth… and beyond. This is a mantra that we need all remember.

“You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” ~ Exodus 22:23

Silence moved upon us all as we sipped our cold ice-teas. We will focus on the quotes from those books from the trash can! For coming upon us are days of justice and good conscience.

Mr. Shit drank lots of ice coffee. He told us that going back to sleep was not an option!

Only in the shower do I sing…

Doe: a deer, a female deer, alludes to the first solfège syllable, do.

Ray: a drop of golden sun [i.e. a narrow beam of light or other radiant energy], alludes to the second solfège syllable, re.

Me: a name I call myself [i.e. the objective first-person pronoun], alludes to the third solfège syllable, mi.

Fa’ [i.e. “far”]: a long long way to run,” alludes to the fourth solfège syllable, fa.

Sew: [the verb for] a needle pulling thread,” alludes to the fifth solfège syllable, sol.

La, the sixth solfège syllable, lacking a satisfactory homophone (see below), is directly referred to in the song as a note to follow so[l].

Tea: a drink with jam and bread [i.e. the popular hot beverage made by steeping tea leaves in boiling water], alludes to the seventh solfège syllable, ti.

Austrian composer Hugo Wolf~3 March 1860 – 22 February 1903

I wish I could sing well. In the 1990s I received my AA in Humanities. This gave me an option to take some fun courses. Do some risky stuff. I took two vocal courses. One was basic, ‘learn how to sing,’ with all the fancy techniques like breathing from the diaphragm.

Singing ‘do re mi fa sol la ti do’ repeatedly with one single breath was not easy.

I endured the class and sang the song Blue Moon as my final project. I sang the original “Blue Moon” a classic popular song written by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart in 1934.

When I joined the chorus as part of a class requirement. I knew my singing was not class “A” stock. We had to perform for Los Angeles Valley College’s Christmas celebrations. I was in the first Christmas singing group. After we sang, I heard a mumble from the audience…,

“OK now we will hear the real singers in the next choir singing Christmas music!”

So, I tortured myself and took the next music class that went from learning only how to sing: to singing operettas in German, Italian and French? I really went all out when I decided to sing my final song written by Hugo Wolf.

“Heut Nacht erhob ich mich um Mitternacht?” or ”Last night I rose at midnight.”

My wings melted! My voice and confidence as well. I left the course before finals because the class was too much for me. Sometimes a good challenge is about the process of just trying. I did find Hugo Wolf!

If I could sing a song. Like a sexy noir dame. It would be the song below.

In music, solfège (/ˈsɒlfɛʒ/,[1] also US: /sɒlˈfɛʒ/, French: [sɔl.fɛʒ]) or solfeggio (/sɒlˈfɛdʒioʊ/, Italian: [solˈfeddʒo]), also called sol-fa, solfa, solfeo, among many names, is a music education method used to teach pitch and sight singing of Western music

Jerusalem

“For life moves out of a red flare of dreams
Into a common light of common hours,
Until old age brings the red flare again.”

~ The Land Of Heart’s Desire, William Butler Yeats

Retrospective action is part of a process which helps us find solutions to human problems. So much is going on in the world and in my personal world. Where does one seek or find balance? Meditation maybe? Exercising and eating properly, that might be part of the answer. There is more to hypertension than the human body. It seems a common reality in these dark political times shared by many!

While putting together some positive moves towards balance, I came upon a few old friends. One is a meditation site called freeMedation and an old poem by William Blake entitled Jerusalem. Yes, going back to healthy practices and inspired ideals.

Shocked by the inclusion of this particular rendition of Blake’s poem on this site, it is still very endearing to me. It is a poem set in a place and time that one can transcend using retrospective meditation.

The poem speaks to us. For is not Jerusalem the palace [place] of our heart’s desire?

Below is an image, a facsimile, from my Blake collection. It has vast symbolic layers.

“When the morning Stars sang together. & all the Sons of God shouted for joy”

Side stepping biblical perspective, this image holds reference to three important elements: The stars known as the Pleiades, humanity, and the cosmos. Our foresight needs to put roots into the ground as a solid anchor. This need is achieved by reaching with retrospective action. Thus, bringing together the past, present and future. A balance for our crazy times.

The image shows me understanding revealed in meditation. Therefore, I love Blake’s work.

Jerusalem by William Blake

Retrospective
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/afterthought/

My doppelgänger did not wave good-bye !

Doppelgänger … Shadow

“Thus the connection of the animus with the shadow should be broken despite the fact that one arrives at the animus by way of the shadow. In fact you can never arrive at the animus unless you see the shadow.”

Pg. 9 The Animus Volume One. The Spirit of Inner Truth in Women. Barbara Hannab

At this time last year, we went for a drive. On our way to San Francisco California. Our mission was to see some William Blake at a book library. They also had some Blake facsimiles for sale. Which I found irresistible. We took a roundabout way to get there. We ended up on the mighty Mammoth Mountains staying in a nice off-season hotel.

It was large and even had a kitchen. We went out later to have some sushi and a beer. Walking home at high altitude made me feel strange. The hotel had a fire outside in the courtyard. We sat and moved around the large fire. It felt wildly bizarre.

Then we entered the room and went to bed. I cannot sleep long on my sides, especially with a full belly. I have arthritis. There was a big couch near the fireplace in the hotel room.

I watched the fire and fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke to see myself looking at myself. My doppelgänger looked just like me but was fully dressed in the long dress coat I was wearing the night before.

Sitting down on the table before me, my doppelgänger was looking deeply into my eyes. I looked right back.

A haunting, mysterious overwhelming feeling of depth touched me that morning. A profoundly uncomfortable darkness addressed me as a presence.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/doppelganger

This is who I am. An Artist’s CV

I got the riding on a swing feeling in my belly! March is here, we are waiting for a rain storm.

Reflecting over the last six years and after 1,000 posts I have come to realize what The Seminary of Praying Mantis is all about. I can break my blog into four parts; Humor, spirituality, punk rock, and free fall.

I do embrace the creative shadow archetype. I like to make humor of culture and politics. For me it is the third path of satire. I do not shy off from it being considered stupid.

I am naturally a spiritual person. I have become more comfortable with sharing this about myself. My favorite books are biographies. So why not share my story.

Humor and honest nastiness is part of my Flopside Comics. Also, in The Daily “FUCK” Gazette and Flopside Bubble Gum comics one can find the absurd. I do admit defeat now and then when it comes to current events.

Punk Rock has cursed me. When I try to escape it, it always finds me. So, I now embrace it as part of my rebellious character. I love to share my history and stay current as shown in my ‘do it yourself ‘ projects.

I like intimacy. friendships and the integrity that comes with the core punk rock experience. I don’t do the festival punk thing.

That is way more profitable for the bands. I can dig that. If one of the many bands, I’ve known. wants to take one of my Punk@lullaby journals and help promote my work that is cool by me. Kind of like we use to do for them with Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine.

My free fall is a merger of all the three parts including my art and poetry. I must create. It is a calling that I cannot ignore. I promote my own work and have true friends help me along the way.

One of my happiest days …

S.W. Lauden, Hudley and Danny Gardner at

“Poems, Songs & Stories-A Literary Lounge by the LA River”,

on September 10th 2017.

A great day !

The Frog Spot photo by Michelene Cherie.

Now to move on to a current event. I like reading Steve Forests’ writings on astrology. His latest post is on Mars, Mars out of bounds !!

You may not believe in the stars but even if you don’t he takes an honest look at what it is to be a male or female this month. A very good read.

https://www.forrestastrology.com/blogs/astrology/mars-out-of-bounds-march-2018

Mars the Androgyne

Androgyny or the hermaphrodite archetype is part of my perspective on what it is to be a human being. Honesty and integrity are how I frame my world. It sometimes leads me down a confronting and angry dark path. Yet at age 60 I think I can be of service to others by doing my good work. I am walking a new path back to university.

I am interested on where this will take me. Will I be accepted for who I am? I want to help others. I may become distant here blogging? I may change my posts favoring one over the other? I will be more discerningly present !

Make Mine Mink

Hattie Jacques as Nanette “Nan” Parry

Therefore, I am sharing the insides of my Flopside comic here. It makes me laugh. Hopefully bringing some adult toilet paper humor upon a heartless subject in current politics. The original Flopside Bubble Gum comic was published as Mr. Trump grappled a hostile takeover of our poor whimpering white house. How it has changed!!

Mr. Fuck the wild card the androgyny person. He is the “satellite of love”. He can help all men and women….with pink hat and hard on. I love the androgynous!