Bobbing at the top of the waters of the LETHE. Review of Push the Sky Away ~Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds

“…And here I come to the hill

I’m pushing my own wheel of love

I got love in my tummy and a tiny little pain…”

I have not bought an album in  some time. We use to have an iTunes account. I don’t know if anyone notices the music posts that I use quite a lot from Nick Cave and The Bad Seed’s new album Push the Sky Away?  It is about time again when I reward my kids and myself with the instant gratification of music. I feel that I have been using so many YouTube songs for free that it is about time to pay the piper.

I don’t feel comfortable ripping others off or taking things for free if an artist worked hard to create something beautiful.

Push The Sky Away is beautiful to me. I am enchanted by this album: The lyrics, music and singing by Nick Cave are pulling at my belly; bringing forth feelings that I have lost in the real world. He has become my musical companion of the netherworld. He inspires my dry and jaded libido as the rain, wind and the sea does. He speaks from the deep unconscious of longing and love.

Nick Cave is a master of archetypal resurrection.

Son hot-burned some cds for our flying machine on the way to and from school. While driving home and listening to the full album, I felt as if I was hovering over the dark asphalt streets. As a jet takes-off; I felt that feeling as if riding on a swing where I almost took off to the rain clouds above.

Nick Cave is a man from my generation and from the same rebellion. As we engage in this collective aging I hear his wisdom!

 I know where he is !

He is at the same magic place of life. Yes it is real magic! Nick’s music makes us slow down to listen and wonder. I cry with a wonderful longing that I have not felt in a long time.

“It gets you right down to your soul!”

never ever, no way, give up again!!!!!

“a pleasure out of the ordinary allowed to oneself: the luxury of an extra piece of cake or a foolish or worthless form of self-indulgence: the luxury of self-pity”


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When I think of the time years ago when I walked away from the freedom to create by the means of so many different mediums, I cry. For this was a constant flux of luxury and I was abandoned from it. I became the coyote on the street of survival where anything that might ascend to a crescendo of creative luxury was sacrificed to those things needed as food, water and a place to live.

The white bird of inspiration lit up the sky.

I asked Coyote, “What joy, inspiration and spirituality…shall I ascend with the bird?”

This is when I saw Coyote jump up and kill the bright bird. She dragged it back to her home in the tree. A large sideways hollow tree trunk where her babes awaited their food.

“Oh, I see you are a mother in need of food.”

“Yes, I am sorry to shock you but sometimes the luxury of our inspirations must be sacrificed for those we love or care for. We must balance sacredness with irrelevance. ”

At times like these there is no time for the luxury of an extra piece of cake or the luxury of self-pity because we simply blend into the fabric of life as responsibility. This is doing what we must to survive.

After years of creative abandonment, a bright bird has come to sit on my shoulder again: to stay and live! This luxury or creativity is abundantly ascending. I move with the crescendo and I eat my cake and cry my tears of self-pity.

These are the mediums and luxuries of my life that I will never ever, no way, give up again!!!!!


Huge-Bear Autumn is time of the mighty Bear

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“Sit with us around the fire tonight dear sister. Let us throw our worries and fears into the flame and watch them burn.”

“Bear, I always look forward to your inward pull and the call of your cold nights.”

Bear replied,” Autumn’s creativity is a luxury but we must earn it, and fight for it, and when we least expect it… it is freely given.”


The Kurgarra and the Galatur

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Taken from Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth ~ Her Stories and Hymns From Sumer. Book by  Diane Wolkstein


The kurgarra and galtur
“From under his fingernail Father Enki brought forth dirt.
He fashioned the dirt into a kurgarra, a creature neither male nor female.
From under the fingernail of his other hand he brought forth dirt.
He fashioned the dirt into a galatur, a creature neither male nor female.
He gave the food of life to the kurgarra.
He gave the water of life to the galatur.” (p. 64)


The kurgarra and the galatur heeded Enki’s words
They set our for the underworld
Like flies, they slipped through the cracks of the gates
They entered the throne of the Queen of the Underworld
No linen was spread over her body.
Her breasts were uncovered
Her hair swirled around her head like leeks.
Ereshkigal was moaning:
“Oh! Oh! My inside!”
They moaned:
“Oh! Oh! Your inside!”
She moaned:
“Ohhh! Oh! My outside!”
They moaned:
“Ohhhh!! Oh! Your outside!”
“She groaned:
“Oh! Oh! My belly!”
They groaned:
Oh! Oh! Your belly!”
She groaned:
Oh! Ohhhh! My back!!”
They groaned:
“Oh! Ohhh! Your back!”
She sighed:
“Ah! Ah! My heart!”
They sighed:
“Ah, Ah Your heart!”
She sighed:
“Ah! Ahhh!! My liver!”
They sighed:
“Ah! Ahhh!! your liver!”
Ereshkigal stopped.
She looked at them.
And asked:
“Who are you,
Moaning-groaning-sighing with me?
If you are gods, I will bless you.
If you are mortals, I will give you a gift.
I will give you the water-gift, the river in its fullness.
The kurgarra and the galatur answered:
“We do not wish it.”
Ereshkigal said:
“I will give you the grain-gift, the fields in the harvest.”
The kurgarra and the galatur answered:
“We do not wish it.”
Ereshkigal said:
“Speak then! What do you wish?”
They answered:
“We wish only the corpse that hangs from the hock on the wall.”
Ereshkigal said:
“The corpse belongs to Inanna.”
They said:
“Whether it belongs to our queen,
Whether it belongs to our king
That is what we wish.”
The corpse was given to them.
The kurgarra sprinkled the food of life on the corpse.
The galatur sprinkled the water of life on the corpse.

Inanna arose… (Pg. 64-67)


From the great Above to the great Below. Inanna Queen of Heaven and Earth, Her Stories and Hymns from Sumer
Diane Wolkstien.



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