Tonight, wee hours of morn… I have been spending time awake with my animus!
A cup of coffee my ambrosia
kneading kitty on my lap
Happy happy
Thinking of male figures in my life
Who I admire and love!
Tonight I,
Acknowledge the male within me
You have not lost me
I embrace you
And let you cry
honey let it out
Weeping weeping wet tears
My night with animus!
Heal the headache, tears
Heartache and trauma.
The earth and sky
Jupiter and moon .
In Greek religion, the staff was carried by the votaries of Dionysus. Euripides wrote that honey dripped from the thyrsos staves that the Bacchic maenads carried. The thyrsus was a sacred instrument at religious rituals and fêtes.
Light and shadow magic comes to visit at different times in life.
The wind was strong and pushed over my angel solar light. I just got home from shopping as I was looking up at Jupiter and the waxing moon.
I have been changing my routines a bit. I go shopping at dusk now and take my showers in the morning or in the middle of the day.
Taking morning walks is something different too.
When I saw the angel at an angle, I ran to fix it when I noticed the shadow playing on the wall behind it.
I said aloud, “A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus.”
I will let the angel be.
I took a picture and played with the image on Adobe Photo Express.
I saw something unexpected today. Billy Idol got a star on Hollywood Blvd. and Mr. Henry Rollins was the presenter. I saw the photograph on a site. Now and then I do like to reflect on my punk rock glory days.
I think upon these two characters that influenced us by their music or words in a big way. I knew them, as many of us did, as youths with deep and high ideals that I once respected.
I met Billy after he left Generation X.
He visited Hollywood. A group of us youthful rebellious punks were talking about music. We were in the back of a liquor store waiting for some beer because we were not 21 yet. Someone was WHEELING AND DEALING with the booze scheme. Billy and I were talking about the Beatles and how much he loved them. He then cried on my shoulder stating to me that he missed his mates back home.
The beer arrived and a friend of mine whisked him away and that was the only time I met him. Over the years when I see him or hear his music, I often reflect back upon that sweet young kid who was kind of lost.
Henry was a wild youth too. He was kind of funny and thoughtful when I first met him. Yet as time went on our friendship soured. I think it was due to a subscription to Flipside Fanzine he never received because his letter fell behind my desk. Maybe the critical reviews I did of him in Black Flag were thought to be unfunny. His lack of humor made it easy to accelerate into doom.
Funny how a guy from England and a guy from DC can be standing on the grounds whereas young punks, who grew up here, used to run wild on those same streets. Then no need, or sense of fame or fortune.
Once equals as friends and fans of the punk scene, they got bigger, and we got smaller. Yet I think I am happy with my place in the world, and I hope they are too.
The sweet and bitter is what punk rock left me. As a punk rock fanatic,
That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise
~ The apartment (by Billy Wilder, 1960)
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
“Mr. Sandman (yes) bring us a dream
Give him a pair of eyes with a “come-hither” gleam
Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci
And lots of wavy hair like Liberace.”
Silver dollars are on my mind. The magic as I view them from my memory or imagination. Mom went to Las Vegas and would play the slot machines with these babies. She would bring home many buckets full to take home to her kids. She kept them in her back bedroom closet for years.
She would pull them out every now and then as we admired the coins. Large hold in my small hands.
After her death oldest brother Greg stole them. I don’t know who has them now. He died a year back, so they are with some unknown person.
I miss mom’s large bedroom with a big window that looked over the Verdugo Mountains. The San Fernando Valley was a deep chasm of hills and homes and the Woodland Hills Golf Course.
Often, she had her radio program on that played music from the 1940s and 1950s as she sewed up dresses or clothes for herself, my sister or myself. A sewing machine on a table that had everything you could imagine for creating fine clothing.
Laying out the patterns, pinning the material and cutting were all something I watched closely.
Then a song would come on and she would start to hum it. I would sometimes dance. This was one of the songs I remember, and the song holds the memory of my mom as we danced around her bedroom.
Mr. Sandman
Sandman” (or “Mister Sandman”) is a popular song written by Pat Ballard and published in 1954. It was first recorded in May of that year by Vaughn Monroe & His Orchestra and later that year by the Chordettes and the Four Aces.
I love watching Perry Mason on TV before I go to bed. It is part of my routine to relax and watch a time before technology, big technology, took over. Phones, telephone booths and stylish clothing are comforting to watch. Yet what I do endure are the commercials in between.
A new one this season is Walgreens commercial. I try not to pay attention, which has a little logo saying, “It is not magic it’s Walgreens,” Here we find all the magic and wonder of the holidays and then the terrible quote. It is kind of negative propaganda as the company is an evangelical organization most likely. The war on magic and our imagination is horrid.
When I see the commercial, I quickly reflect on the song Pure Imagination from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.
“Pure Imagination” is a song from the 1971 film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. It was written by British composers Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley specifically for the movie. It was sung by Gene Wilder who played the character of Willy Wonka. Bricusse has stated that the song was written over the phone in one day. The song has a spoken introduction.
“Ladies and gentlemen
Boys and girls
The chocolate room
Hold your breath
Make a wish
Count to three
Come with me and you’ll be
In a world of pure imagination
Take a look and you’ll see
Into your imagination.”
Eve Tempted by the Serpent
William Blake (1757–1827)
“There are two things’ children should get from their parents: roots and wings.”
~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
“E: I have already uttered the words, The image that I saw was crimson, fiery colored, a gleaming gold. The voice that I heard was like distant thunder, like the wind rearing in the forest, like an earthquake. It was not the voice of my old God. It was a thunderous pagan roar, a call my ancestors knew but which I have never heard. It sounded prehistoric, as if from a forest on a distant coast; it rang with all the voices of the wilderness. It was full of horror yet harmonic.”
Pg. 237 [v.6] C.G. Jung The Black Books.
As a student of esoteric studies, and lay person of depth psychology, I learned about our vital bodies. We have our physical body, our vital body and our desire and mind body. Four bodies superimposed on us as we are awake living our lives.
At night, I have learned, when we go to sleep something amazing happens to us. Our desire and mind bodies disengage from our physical and vital bodies. All bodies are connected by sturdy life threads. Life sustaining.
It is at this time in sleep the physical body is free from desire body and mind body engagement so the vital body can heal our physical body. The mind and desire bodies float above us like balloons on long strings as the vital body does its healing panacea. Assimilating, regenerating, and eliminating is the work of our vital body.
We are like trees, often unconscious, reaching deep with our roots into our earth mother and reaching up to the sun and the cosmos bringing in sunlight. This is when we learn about the wonderful relationship we have with other planets. But mostly our bodies recover from the damage incurred throughout the day by simply living our life.
Having Covid-19 I have experienced the powerful work of my own vital body. It is so important to sleep when one has Covid-19.
It was hard to sleep for me. The pain, the fever, the fear was overwhelming. Yet when I did, I felt like a tree and the power work of sleeping happened. Waking up many times as if I went for a swim. And after such nights when I did sleep, I felt better.
Once I experienced a kaleidoscope of coughing over and over with visions of myself… it was how the world outside of me and inside of me merged. There was a battle going on. And for those of us who shared this battle you know this experience as well.
“The vital body, on the other hand, has no other interest than the preservation of the dense vehicle. By way of the spleen, it specializes the colorless solar energy which pervades space, and by some strange chemical process transforms it into a vital fluid of a beautiful pale rose color, sending it along every nerve and fiber of the body. The vital body ever aims to husband the energy it has stored in the dense body. It is constantly concerned in rebuilding the tissues when they are broken down and destroyed by the powerful onslaughts of the rampant desire body.”
~ THE VITAL BODY BY MAX HEINDEL
The spleen is the largest organ of the lymphatic system. Located in the upper left region of the abdominal cavity, the spleen’s primary function is to filter blood of damaged cells, cellular debris, and pathogens such as bacteria and viruses. Like the thymus, the spleen houses and aids in the maturation of immune system cells called lymphocytes. Lymphocytes are white blood cells that protect against foreign organisms that have managed to infect body cells. Lymphocytes also protect the body from itself by controlling cancerous cells. The spleen is valuable to the immune response against antigens and pathogens in the blood.
Having all the vaccines I chose not to get the PAXLOVID. I don’t do well with side effects.
At this time of the year the veil between the living and the dead is so thin. Dreams are intense yet with Covid-19 my mind is weak. Yet last night I do remember the end of my dream.
I was in a large, lovely field. Maybe the place of my ancestors, Cornwall, England. It was dusk or maybe the sun was just rising. A slight mist was in the air. I was waiting to catch the vampires. I got to see them outside of my body. We stood there all looking at each other and aware.
I saw at least three or four hovering, lingering in this vast open field. I was there to conquer them.
I awoke.
Today I feel much better. I only share the feelings left of a body that battled and won. A sore back and chest. A sore throat that once was tight with heat. And then signs of a cold are slowly disappearing. Fatigued but here to live another day.
I think of all the cowboy fights I watch on my favorite show Gunsmoke. Right after a fight of getting his ass kicked, a cowboy walks up into the bar and orders a whiskey. Then powers it down, walks out and gets on his horse and rides away. No problem!
Reb Kittredge:
I ran into a little trouble this morning. I had to leave my horse back up the trail.
Rita:
If I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I’d say you still had him with you.
~Gunsmoke
I call upon Hiawatha and Dionysus
I often believe you two are the same
Friends of humanity and the earth.
As seeing the history of our earth and the waters of the earth.
As seeing nature and the growing things and vines and the wildness of this planet.
I think upon the goodness and wisdom of Hiawatha and Dionysus.
Both connected to the earth are the best ones to learn from.
As we see politically, globally, and as human beings we need to listen to them now more than ever.
They teach me to listen to nature, that magic is a gift, and our friends are closer than we realize.
The Dionysian Thyrsus is a powerful compelling campaign addressing the wonder of life and the earth and harmony.
It is all within us and outside of us.
Hiawatha speaks to the wind and in our souls of the equality of all things from minerals in rocks and out towards the star beings.
Balance and harmony, creativity and weaving our stories, hope and timeless ambition to run with the wildness of our natures.
Lady bugs to bear, mountain lions to the praying mantis.
Trees and rivers, rain, and thunder.
Love making to eating and dancing.
Hiawatha’s departure: Hiawatha sails Westward into the sunset
These are a handful of Babes that keep giving. They have influenced generations by their singing, music, and right and left hand creative endeavors.
Alicia “Alice” Armendariz ~ Alice Bag from The early LA Band The Bags
Annette Celia Genevieve Zilinskas ~The Bangles, Blood on the Saddle…
Julie Lanfeld-Keskin ~ Sin 34 (RIP)
Kim Morris – Bass and vocals The Thingz
Susan Janet Ballion aka Siouxsie Sioux~The Creatures, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
We are living through kind of depressing days. I think it is a nice time to share humor and look to some darn strong women!
Babes that keep giving.
I love the term BABE. It means so many things. Here at FLopside Comics Mr. Fuck and Mr. Shit mean it in a HIGH FIVE way. Lovers, girls, and best friends. Yet they also use the word ‘dude’ the same way when referring to their friends that are girls.
Girls, gals, women, females, dames, dolls, and broads.
Mr. Shit does not use proper English and prefers to use “that” instead of “who”… it is a slang thing… yet Babes Who keep Giving he said,
“Is fucking OK too.”
“But, suddenly, I viddied that thinking was for the gloopy ones and that the oomny ones use like inspiration and what Bog sends; for now it was lovely music that came to my aid. There was a window open with a stereo on, and I viddied right at once what to do…”
Alex: A Clockwork Orange, Book Anthony Burgess; Film Stanley Kubrick
You know how picky kitties are. So, I have been unlucky. Maybe a small box here and there. Cleaning up kitty barf is often a strong biological rebellion that lets me know something is wrong with the food. Bravely I am stepping out of my cave to places I have avoided … Smart & Final off Milton is one such place.
And though I noticed they no longer play songs over their PA…. Today I had a strange experience! Yes, a strange note or two of weird synchronicities. Usually happening at times when one is drifting. Like me! It is throwing an anchor down time. Similar to editing, anchoring a graphic image on Adobe Premiere Pro. Animation, motion, and a focus in.
And then it came like the big bright bird of pure crystal roundabout meaning. Moments of a song burst loudly over Smart & Final’s PA. A moment that brings my ears, heart, and lips a humming.
“Let the stormy clouds chase.
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I’ve a smile on my face!”
Yes, that song from the film A Clockwork Orange anchored me from drifting. Aligning me with my opus again.
Then silence, only the clatters of the supermarket’s mundane sounds of customers shopping.
Singing In the Rain was the one song that changed my life years ago … how is this possible to hear it for only a moment today as I randomly searched for Friskies Seafood Sensations Adult Cat Dry Food, with Vitamins?
Then at 19 and now at 64… “for now it was lovely music that came to my aid.”
A wake-up call.
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