Ichabod Crane in a 1960s straight legged suite, A bow to Saturn and Jupiter…

1960s suit

As we approach this year’s Aquarius celebration of Saturn and Jupiter both in 0 degrees Aquarius 2020 December 21st, I think back upon a time of my life when this song from the musical Hair was immensely popular. I have been watching the two planets hang together over the last couple months. In clear eyesight. Two thousand years from Pisces to Aquarius what will this bring to humanity…? What will tomorrow be like… we sure could use a lot more light.


Mr. Kennedy was a tall grey-haired man. He kind of looked like Ichabod Crane who wore a 1960s straight legged pant suit. He read my poem to the whole class. When the well-read and the popular girls looked around at me, I should have given them my tongue. I should have stuck it way out so they could see it as clear as the sun. I didn’t. I just sat in my seat as I am now…. years later. I was happy to be understood. I still am.

To Mr. Kennedy who taught with kindness.


http://www.drapervisualarts.org/?page_id=10

Paper, pencils, crayons, and watercolors were always around the house. Grandma’s old player piano was in the boy’s room with a pool table. We lived a rustic life. The smell of food, the sound of children, parents and nature contrasted the rather harsh world of a classroom. Going to school was not for me. It was social torture where I turned off, only to turn on during time on the playground.

In second grade I remember Mrs. Bracka shaking me,

“No Holly, I told you do not do that. Put them in alphabetical order!!”

I would just write down any number when it came to math. The smart girl went around the room correcting everyone’s papers. When she got to me, she said,

“You got them all wrong. I will have to give you an F!”

She kept trying to get the teacher’s attention while she was correcting papers; after correcting my paper she went pee all over the chair next to me.

When I got to 6th grade it was about the same. I only watched the clock until kickball on the playground.  I was put in the back of the class in the slow learner section and believe me the other kids let us know it. Until one day when Mr. Kennedy asked the whole class to write poems.

He said,

“Write about what you feel, write about what interests you or inspires you.”

Mr. Kennedy, who played the song Aquarius over the PA sound system at Serriania Elementary school, woke me up to the power of writing.

What will tomorrow be like?

Will there be day or night?

Will it be like today?

Or will there be other planets too,

For us to play.

Will there be rockets taking us to Mars, Venus, or Neptune?

This is what people think about,

If we wait awhile, we will soon find out.


 

Mr. Leprechaun’s Ode to the Dandelion

I am sure there are multi-billion dollar businesses to kill the dandelion. ~ Mr. Leprechaun.

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I have wild places in my garden where I let the dandelions grow freely. The birds like them, and the bees and hummingbirds love them. Yellow green sturdy little wild things they are. I love them too. This is an ode to them.

While almost asleep and with the window open to feel the breeze during my nap time, I heard a little story in the wind …

“Did you know that if you let the dandelion grow in your garden and on your lawn, it is the perfect place for a little leprechaun to rest; in case they cannot find a mushroom that is?”

“Oh,” I said.

“If you walk by and see one drinking, it may very well be dandelion beer. They will ask to share some with you. Their pints are about as big as they are. It would be about a cup full for a human being.”

“I see.” I yawned.

So, the story I heard is this and it became strangely intimate.

“If you are kind enough to take a sip of me earthy brew, a couple of valuable gold coins will show up on your front door dear.”

“Really I whispered?”

“Yes, and as you pick up the gold, whisper to the wind how the beer tasted to you!”

“I see.”

Mr. Leprechaun continued on,

“I want the truth lassie. No lies. Then I will give you two more gold coins.”

I spoke,

“I hear you.”

“Share this story… if you will, Because I need them dandelions to make me brews!!”

I nodded and said,

“Most assured, yes.”

Then the Leprechaun sang and danced…

“Drink me brew, drink me brew!

“Three pints for me and one for you

Dandelions make a great big stew.

Green, yellow and nectar too.

Birds are singing and flowers are wooing.

Feet are dancing and twilight is coming.

We are here to dance and laugh.

Rich with gold, gems, and beer!!

Dandelions here, Dandelions there

Let them grow, let them grow!

Me dear, me dear

Let them grow me dear!!”



Never Never land

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A scene from Never Never land graced the walls of Dad’s beauty salon on Ventura Blvd. Pink hair drivers and a bar in the back served up cocktails. The coke machine was always filled with coke when we were kids. A few pennies and we would take the filled bottles out back to the parking lot to shake them up; then we watched them explode.  We were sticky, sweet and balls of laughter while we drank half a bottle down. Beautiful women and Jazz on the Telefunken radio silhouette my memories as I say goodbye to a building.

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“Goodnight Sweet Prince” is all I can think to say of the sweet family business and days of innocent youth.

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Soap Box # 2… Cellphone love bug

“Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”

-Martin Luther King, Jr. 

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There she was driving down Topanga Blvd in the fog. The traffic was crazy heavy and car lights were on. I watched as she looked up every few seconds and looked down for more than a few seconds. On general she was spending more time looking down then up, while driving in the fog in crazy heavy traffic.

 I thought all the time, when driving, that if I had not been looking up, a mere second, I might have had a major accident. Driving in the fog in Californian is a fucking rare thing…. I mean as rare as roast beef with red juices flowing!!

 I was digging her V.W. Bug too… it was purple, and her long dark hair was trimmed at the end with the same color as her car. How cool is that!? I want a black V.W. Bug with purple anarchy flowers and two green praying mantises, and I will do my hair black, purple, and green. One thing I will never do is text and drive. It is the stupidest thing I see people doing these days.

It pisses me off. Not only is she risking her life, and the life of everyone around her; including cats, dogs, possums, raccoons, goats, and little children with balls, that impressive V.W. of hers will be smashed up. I honked at her. She looked over and I said,

 “Don’t text and drive honey!

“What?”

She said smiling. “I said don’t text and drive,” as I took my finger and rolled it around my ear…the crazy sign.

 She got the picture ’cause she reacted with a roll-eye and a little jerk. I woke her up for a bright brief second as she cruised; texting and looking downwards at a horse powered machine weighing some 1900 lbs. I fucking hope so!!

download (8)

http://www.textinganddrivingsafety.com/texting-and-driving-stats/

 

Improbably Negative.


Now autumn’s breeze blows summer’s leaves through my life
Twisted and broken dawn, no days with sunlight
The dying spark, you left your mark on me
The promise of your kiss, but with someone else
For the bitterest pill is mine to swallow.

~ The Jam.


The Plague Hospital, Fransisco de Goya

Once I knew only darkness and stillness… my life was without past or future… but a little word from the fingers of another fell into my hand that clutched at emptiness, and my heart leaped to the rapture of living.

~ Helen Keller


This was my first episode to the underworld initiated by a drug’s side effect.

One followed a few years later. Both times I made it back but not without a will of dynamite… I have become wiser. More resilient to the elements of Pluto and his world. He still mocks me, but I understand now what I went through both times is an ancient one and I was never alone but had to do the work myself. It is all about illumination from the darkness to the light.


The Twilight Zone can be pleasant before sunset when the sky sometimes bursts forth with color which should only be part of our dreams. Shadowy faces from light and shadow play move on trees and in corners of our streets.

Glen told me once if you investigate this type of twilight without focus and expand your vision to include your peripheral vision, a world of nature spirits will open to you. One can do this on stormy cloudy days as today.

Yet the twilight zone story that I am going to share is a focus around a character who almost got caught in this place between light and dark, where escape seemed improbably negative. The experience lasted a year.  

After a negative reaction to a drug the woman seemed agitated and unable to lie down. She got up and tried to take a shower in her hospital room. Then the thought of running and jumping out the window seemed the logical thing to do. They stopped and sedated her. She was only in the hospital for a normal hospital colonoscopy.

On the couch at home lights moved through her body, she experienced an electrical storm shooting up and down her spine. Anxiety crept up around her as a succubus that never left her side; He stretched out a large woven black sheet above her. It rested above the trees and over her life. Always waiting for something to come… she felt the twilight zone ever-present.  

“She said to the nurse on the phone,

“Nurse I am so anxious; I think I will lose my mind.”  

“Take deep breaths. A powerful drug has been released into your body.”  

The battle for her mind began; throwing away all prescription drugs from stupid doctors: that made her feel crazy and in the toilet they went. She walked, took homeopathic remedies, herbs and waited for the opaque Madonna to make her first attack.   She said to herself, “Will I ever feel normal again?”   Her will alone brought her back slowly.  

The dark illuminating entity that mocked her unfeeling steps was slowly replaced by light. In her dark mind a knowing grasped her that was just the opposite of a gamma-ray explosion; for it was the core of a cold etching, calculating, scientific, and faithless mind.  

Though she could not focus on watching TV for weeks, she slowly began to watch sitcoms. The humor, family problems and stupid antics of Tim Taylor from the series Home Improvement chased the boogie man away. Friendly books off dusty shelves and talking her walks in nature also helped her out of the dark twilight zone.


Shyane

Youngest son at 14.



Coyote Hill

“The Verdugo Mountains are a small, rugged mountain range of the Transverse Ranges system in Los Angeles County. Sometimes called “the Front Range,” the Verdugos are entirely surrounded by urban development. The Verdugo Mountains represent an isolated wildlife island.”



Saying goodbye to my family home that I was born to and grew up in is difficult. Seeing Coyote Hill as one of the last hills not to be claimed by a house is rewarding and comforting to me.

On top of Coyote Hill one can almost see the whole San Fernando Valley. It is close to a 360-degree view.

The Verdugo Mountains, Warner Center, turning {when it was farmland with horses and cattle}, Canoga Park, turning, Topanga Canyon, turning, the Santa Monica Mountains, turning and then back to Woodland Hills; then to the house where I grew up.

Climbing to the top of Coyote Hill was a natural workout depending on the time of year. In summer and autumn, it is mostly dry dirt. During winter towards spring the hill had all sorts of wild weeds, flowers, and herbs. My favorite time is when the tall green grass and the purple lupine grew. The worst time is the beautiful but dangerous wild purple thistle that tore up your legs or the fox tails that got caught in my socks.

How many times did I climb Coyote Hill to get away to the place where silence was reachable? I followed the peaceful breeze and experienced the free and wonderful cool blowing sounds of life.

Silence is a more peaceful feeling inside than the absence of sound. Coyote Hill supplied all the silence a growing child needed!

While walking or driving by in-car or on my bike, I have watched a few wild coyotes take the path up this hill. Once on the very tip-top one turned to look at me.

My mom’s dreams come true.

She told us about the dreams she had where houses would be built up all around our home. Houses cover the hills now, but not Coyote Hill. As kids, my friends and I would tear down the realtor for sale signs to stop the builders. We could not stop them.

In my dreams I see a big gazebo on Coyote Hill. A path climbs up to it and a path down the other side. It is a free place for anyone to experience wild silence. In my dream I interfere with the natural cycle and plant some native California plants mixed with lots of lavender, rosemary, and sage. I would also supply some sort of water source for the dry months of summer and autumn.


Wild thistle.



glorious reverence !

Today I heard a friend describe another friend as Lame and Stupid… now at Flopside Comics this is a holy fucking royal term that is to be honored with glorious reverence !! Here we all have it tattooed on our butts and since this is the case…we will not show it. But it is there just the same…

A happy after fucking valentines day toast …

To the Lame and Stupid…!!

Mr Fucking Blue ..

Stupid

http://it.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=stupid

Lame

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=lame

On a clear day !!


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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/23/daily-prompt-kindness-2/

An experiment in recording oral tradition..

Strange Forest

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You’ve been kidnapped and given a choice: would you rather be stranded on an island, dropped into an unknown forest, or locked in a strange building?

Dropped in a deep dark forest the last few years. Just by chance I see a book with illustrations. Is this any different from life? I say not. I have had the literature and often looked for the illustrations. Today in this strange forest I have found my holy grail of art. I am overwhelmed with what I have found!

Do I walk down the path of its illumination? Do I follow this mad mystic, as a fucking stupid literature professor once called him?

Sometimes rolling around with Pluto in the dark forest, one finds gifts. In the open forest above the dark inviting caves I have found more than his darkness but a path out of this dark forest.

Pluto did kidnap me into his dark forest. I addressed him and so, out of Persephone’s love and their Jester’s humor, on their behalf… I found my get away.

A mossy green stone which is soft for sitting, and light from the sun slanting upon my book, make the Illustrations shine forth. The sound of a bright clean stream that echoes each joyful heartbeat is my gift today!! Here I will study the Master’s creation!!

http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2014/01/17/william-blake-dante-divine-comedy/

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/19/daily-prompt-choice/

Pewter and chess books.

“I bet if a terrible happening occurred and we had to take things and run for cover, you would go after your chess books instead of me”

” Ha, ha, ha I would not!”

thCA2LFR88sunday morning garage sale. Kids are making some dough on the side. You might not notice it, but the other day I was looking at some houses for sale a few miles from here. Something bigger and closer to a good high school for son. On ZIllow.com I found almost all of the houses foreclosed. It was disturbing to see.

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Pewter bowl and pewter small knives and one fork. Pewter mugs among other things.

“Good Morning, how much is this?”

Sabtain is a wheeler and dealer. He starts high and stays high , but is generous to a flaw with his  bilingual style . The rest being blind to his skilful speaking tongue.

Munching on snacks and clouds forming over head. Today is not going to be warm. Bees buzzing over the crawling rosemary as young men bond.  Waiting to sell that large box of multiform and many-colored  legos for 300 bucks.

The glee in their childhood eyes  was once bright while handling their legos projects, but this has transformed into master minding the strategic moves of the card game Magic.  The money made here today is for new cards which they have already purchased in their minds.

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“What is papa thinking?”

“I’m just reading this book.”

“How about selling some of your chess books at the garage sale?”

“No way, we need an airplane hangar so I can have more!”

“I am lucky you do not collect women as you do chess books!”

The pewter is not selling today. Maybe it wants to stay and maybe the strange cloud hovering over the young men is grandmother who once acquired this pewter through her best friend.  Grandmother eventually ended up  marrying her best friend’s husband. She acquired a whole bunch of stuff too besides a husband.

Laughter, stories and good friends. Sales are low; guessing that everyone is still at church.

We all have our own personal style

DSC01774 Somewhere in Simi-Valley CA by Hudley

Evil and the Devil are two different things. The Devil is how humans like to imagine evil, with horns and a tail. Evil is part of our personality. I’ve never believed in occultism or the Devil, and I’m not at all religious. I’d rather read science books than something about occultism. When it comes to cinema, evil is simply a form of entertainment to me. ~ Roman Polanski

We all have our personal style that we project to the world around us, which, as in my case is often counter-productive to the general and personal world around me: Being loud when others are quiet or being quiet when other are loud. I think William Blake and Samuel Clemens write about the concept of being contradictory.

Do what you will, this world’s a fiction and is made up of contradiction. ~William Blake

To succeed in life, you need two things: ignorance and confidence.~ Mark Twain

I let my personal style out like colorful balloons filled with colorful paint which are projected and exploited on a four-dimensional wall. Only a few at a time: then back into my cave of safety. That is my contradictory self and my personal style.

It is  passionately manifested and a bit too fiery at times… but with age I can redirect it but will never control it.  I embrace it as my own unique personal style.

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/08/daily-prompt-style-2/

http://elray.bandcamp.com/album/shoot-from-the-hip

Day 8 of the Holy Days of Christmas

Red Roses watercolor by Hudley Flipside
Red Roses...for Gloria and Shirley


The 8th day of the holy days of Christmas brings us to the Hierarchy of Scorpio. This is a primal triad of my astrological signature. Scorpio and Neptune hand in hand are my ascendant rising planets. My life is this motif but not all the time. This takes me to two individual women who are my friends and teachers.

Gloria Hays was the head of the Esoteric Department of the Rosicrucian Fellowship and Shirley Sharp was the head of the Healing Department. This Rosicrucian Fellowship’s foundation is in Oceanside California and is based on the teachings of Max Heindel.

Gloria was a spiritual diplomat of the highest degree. She was a hostess and spiritual adviser and my friend. I use to love to watch Shirley play the organ in the Temple, barefoot. Her passion for music sounded the magic; ascending and descending on those of us sitting in the healing temple. We were surrounded by the 12 Hierarchies. These two women were my champions of  light in the darkness.

It has always been a passion of mine to study the mysteries of life and death; Gloria and Shirley are my friends on this journey.  Today my focus for this holy of holies day is on the two of them as teachers  and friends. Rest In Peace and…

“Tell we meet,

Tell we meet,

Tell we meet,

The Rosy Cross to greet,

Tell we meet,

Tell we meet

God be with you tell we meet again…”


http://www.hareinthemoonastrology.co.uk/

http://www.rosicrucian.com/rcc/rcceng00.htm

Day 6 of the Holy of Holies…

Pg. 211 Apuleius The Golden Ass


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The Hierarchy of Virgo is the focus for today. The world mother is the symbol for meditation.  All those qualities of motherhood that we often take for granted come to mind. The little things of quality that often seem boring that we have to do for others.


“The Phrygians that are the oldest humans stock call me Pessinuntia, Mother of the Gods, The aboriginal races of Attica call me Cecropian Minerva.

The Cyprians in their island-home call me Paphian Venus. The archer Cretans call me Diana Dictynna. The three-tongued Sicilina’s call me Stygian Proserpine.

The Eleusinians call me the ancient goddess Ceres. Some call me Juno. Some call me Bellona. Some call me Hecate.

Some call me Rhamnusia. But those who are enlightened by the earliest rays of that divinity the sun, the Ethiopians, the Arii, and the Egyptians who excel in antique lore, all worship me with their ancestral ceremonies and call me by my true name Queen Isis. “


“The greatest among you shall be the servant to all.”

Gospel of Matthew 23 :11.

To the new year Cheers!!!


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The fourth day of the Holy of Holies

Sun Flowers as the symbol of our opened solar plexus…



“Mysticism has its own dangers-from which the Hopis themselves have suffered acutely, as we shall see; and pragmatic Western science has bestowed immeasurable blessings upon all mankind. It is merely a matter of choosing different goals and the means of achieving them. The contrast of the two systems is mentioned here because this pathetically small and misunderstood minority group Hopis, are so strangely attuned to the precepts of another hemisphere rather than to the technological civilization engulfing them.”

~. Book of the Hopi by Frank Waters Pg. 27-28


The fourth day of the Holy of Holies is centered in our solar plexus. The Hierarchy is Cancer.

“Cancer with soul-soul as the reveler of truth”

~Pg. 12 Corinne Heline.


Hildegard of Bingen


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Between our belly button and our heart lies the solar plexus and here is our intuitive soul. The feelings that make us so human; Hate to love abides here. This is how we compass who we are in a group or in the world and how we know who we are as an individual. To be unique and rebellious: to be intuitive and in tune to the world as an insect’s antenna or the cat’s whiskers.

The Serpent Mound near Louden, Ohio.

“The oval mound represents the village. It was placed within the jaws of the snake to show that it was protected by the snake’s power.”

~ Book of the Hopi by Frank Waters Pg.41.


Serpent Mound Map blog size

What a wonderful symbol as a protector of our solar plexus. We do need to consciously protect it. It may not be a tribe or village. Just us or our family. It is thinking about all those bad and good things we do to others everyday, as human beings on this earth. Globally, we need to sometimes turn off the technologies of our life. What are we feeling and how does this relate to the little world around us and within us?

Yet, taking 10 minutes a day to watch a honey bee collecting nectar might be all the green we need to forgive a friend that betrayed us. Maybe it is about taking the time to listen to our guts and do something different, like taking a walk on the wild side.



Frank Waters

“I believe in that Hopi life and teachings completely. They’re good people. They have a good religion. Doing that ‘Book of the Hopi’ taught me a lot. We’re a right-brain people, a rational thinking people, a rational mind; we figure things out. But the Hopis are a left-brain people. They go by intuition and that intuition is geared to the religious side of things. We’re geared to the materialistic side. They don’t have, as we do, a Sunday religion.”


The second day of the Holy of Holies.

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In the original book [Dune by Frank Herbert], at least, the “weirding way” seems to be the Fremen term for the whole set of skills that the Bene Gesserit teach. The first reference in Dune is when the Shadout Mapes refers to the “weirding room.” Then, when Paul and his mother first meet Stilgar’s troop, Stilgar calls Jessica a “weirding woman.”

But the Bene Gesserit skills definitely also include fighting. Stilgar says:

“But you, woman, you have the weirding ability of battle. We’d only heard of it and many doubted, but one cannot doubt what he sees with his own eyes. You mastered an armed Fremen. This is a weapon no search could expose.”

http://scifi.stackexchange.com/questions/15086/what-is-the-use-of-the-voice-in-the-weirding-way

“The throat will be a luminous center from which the divine Creative word is sent.” Pg. 10

The disciple is Andrew.

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“Thinking Strings” Praying Mantis Has a voice

There is a part of our spirit to which this voice of Mantis, speaking from an age of stone to an age of men with hearts of stone, commands us with the authentic tone of eternal renewal..”

Pg. 40



I am in the process of reflecting on the lecture, The Creative Pattern In Primitive Africa by Laurens van der Post. The lecture speaks of the Bushmen of the Kalahari desert and their ancient mythologies that happen to include Praying Mantis as their own “Spirit of Creation.”

The Bushmen worshiped the Mantis and consulted him as an oracle. Pg 21.

I include in this post, from the lecture, a poem / lament “by a father of a bushman that lived over a hundred years ago… he was a rainmaker and a magician.”

Pg. 38

“People were those who

Broke for me the string

Therefore,

The place became like this to me,

On account of it,

Because the string was that which broke for me.

Therefore,

The place does not feel to me,

As the place used to feel to me,

On account of it.

For,

The place feels as if it stood open before me,

Because the string has broken for me,

Therefore,

The place does not feel pleasant to me,

On account of it.”



What is interesting to me is though Laurens van der Post naturally brings and weaves the Bushmen and Wolfgang von Goethe together in comparison as to the writing of their particular styles of poetry, I take it further by placing it in the continuity of music which highlights this post in a delightful way. An essence of what this brings together and what it very well means. I came upon a connection or “thinking string’ between Wolfgang von Goethe and the German band Kraftwerk.

The “thinking strings.” This is the process of reconnecting the “thinking strings.”  A continuity of thoughts, dreams, magic, “stories from the wind” and life .

Listen to the music and read the poetry. I am asking for the feelings that it generates in you. It will provoke you.  My hopeful goal is to tie the “thinking strings” together again and to find what may have been lost, which is the spiritual beauty of the Bushmen. The Bushmen are the foundation of this Lecture by Laurens van der Post.  Reading it has had a profound effect on my life. I also wait for the “stories of life before and beyond the moment .”

The Bushmen, Goethe, Laurens van der Post and the Praying Mantis.



Faust (Goethe)/Prologue

THE LORD === THE HEAVENLY HOST 
Afterwards
MEPHISTOPHELES

(The THREE ARCHANGELS come forward.)

“RAPHAEL

The sun-orb sings, in emulation,
‘Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round:
His path predestined through Creation
He ends with step of thunder-sound.
The angels from his visage splendid
Draw power, whose measure none can say;
The lofty works, uncomprehended,
Are bright as on the earliest day.”

Mockery Of Them

If I end up with cancer and I only have a few months to live I would do something revolutionary, but now I have the superpower of invisibility. It all happened one night on a walk around the neighborhood…

Praying Mantis 1
Happy Holiday Praying Mantis by Hudley

Mystical places do exist. Haven’t you caught them from the corner of your eye? A flash of light, a face or a building appears then gone when you look straight at it. I am not talking about black floaters or some science jargon here. The strangest thing I caught by this type of seeing was just down the block from my house. It was dusk and I saw two enormous white marble cat-like figures, taller than the trees and the houses. They were parallel to each other. It was a foggy night and the feeling of awesome came to mind. As a camera flash illuminates its object of focus then is out, so too was this image just as bright and followed by darkness.

Months later I strolled to this place again on one of my walks. This time it was late and the clear night sky shimmering multitudes of lights and unseen dark matter. I stood at the spot again where I viewed the cat-like figures. A sudden will-o’-the-wisp came down from the night sky and I heard a chant.

“Finally daughter-child you come to the altar. Take the gift of invisibility. Mock the greedy bastard rich who abuse their power on your sweet little planet.”

I knew my mission and all I had to do was say the chant.

“Mock the greedy bastard rich who abuse their power on our sweet little planet.”

I ran home and wrote the chant down. At first I thought myself crazy. I tried the chant a few times. Now invisible, I went to son’s classes and watched him working. I enjoyed this immensely. I often kissed him on his head and he felt me as a soft breeze. Somehow I think he knew someone was there.

I tripped his history teacher and watched him fall down three stairs and bloody his elbows. Even though I feel he is a good teacher, he makes a lot of mistakes when grading his student’s papers. Then and there I took a vow to only use the chant with integrity. Damn it…it really works!!

I studied hard and researched until I found all the information I needed. So my mockery-mission was planned. I took two weeks off during the Holiday season to go visit my brother. All was a foot! Airplanes, buses and even a few taxis were all free to an invisible passenger. Anything I wore upon my body was invisible like me. I did not have to go around naked like the invisible man Griffin.

Firstly my mission was invisibly-vising all the Koch brothers corporations. I destroyed all of their documents, computers and sabotaged their meetings while making a mockery of them.

Papers in the air, over turned coffee cups and farts from nowhere…

I could hear the angels laughing. Then I visited Fox News, Rush Limbaugh and a few strategically stupid Tea Party members. (I admit I digressed putting laxatives in Rush’s Whiskey) I hunted them down and haunted them as the three admirable ghosts from Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol.

As my final first mission and task; I took as much money from local banks as I could.

It really does not take a genius to plan a bank robbery when you are invisible!

Something Robin Hood and His Merrie Men might have done…sharing the wealth with the middle class and the poor.

It is easy to find needy people when you are invisible.

But this was just the beginning of my superpower… and I can tell you all this, there are more of us invisible people out there then you may realize… for we are the ghosts and angels not just of your dreams but those lights that twinkle at the corner of your eyes.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/03/prompt-see-me/

The Swing


Making my way outside close to dusk, my friends and I ran down the street.

North, we ran towards the Indian trails.

Down the trails we fell like the sun, running and sliding down the wild sage trails.

Past the large rock over Dumetz we went.

Across the street and over up the other hill we climbed.

We ran past wild weeds, pepper and eucalyptus trees as the smell awakened our desire to reach the swing on the hill.

The free swing on a rope with a wood seat.

We took turns flying over the hill that dropped far below.

We challenged gravity as the sun set and the stars smiled; we were breathing, laughing with our youthful joys.


Positive projection of art if only indirectly…

This is my response to The Basic Big Problem With Most Art  by Mat Gleason

I read his criticism based on his knowledge and insights of art, but what I saw between the lines of his writing was a truthful alternative possibility. Instead.; A  projection of what exceptional art is. By saying what he did not like about art and artists; he affirms indirectly what artists and art should inspire towards.

Engaged in the community

With humanity and/or nature

To be one with a vision beyond the sleeping

Awake as an artist and as a creative writer

To be sensitive,

to inspire this in others

to awaken others to the extramundane

deep in their longing hearts

to share

through the process of creative honesty !!

http://coagula.livejournal.com/406654.html

A Terrible Threat

Punk Rock Historian, COLLEAGUE and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside


th (13)


“Walk on the Wild Side” is a Lou Reed song from his 1972 second solo album Transformer. David Bowie produced it. The song received wide radio coverage, despite its touching on taboo topics such as transsexualism, drugs, male prostitution, and oral sex. In the United States, RCA released the single using an edited version of the song without the reference to oral sex.


Being weird is always a terrible threat! A wonderful and eternal weirdo place way to be!! RIP Lou Reed!!

“For indiscriminate empathy, which is characteristic of Neptune, we often try to make this into a very exclusive and discriminating empathy for him alone. We can see the same kind of mechanism at work here that is suggested by a Uranus-Saturn contact. Even if the individual is not expressing Neptune in a particularly conscious way–and few do expect through the creative media of music or theater–this lucid and magical quality will be apparent to the person whose Saturn is affected. It is an entrancing quality while it is a terrible threat for although Neptune seems to say, “I completely understand and love and accept you, he will say the same to everyone indiscriminately.” ~ Liz Greene

When I was 14 years old the song Walk on the Wild Side was the hit song of a generation. The song reached mass appeal. I was not aware of The Velvet Underground or Andy Warhol during the sixties but by 1972 Lou Reed reached the place of “creative media of music,” where he would say “the same to everyone.”  I hated this song because the song began with my name. The kids at school already labelled me as a weirdo.

 “Hey Holly want to take a walk on the wild side…hahahah!!”

 Quiet and shy I took the bullying. Little did I know that in a few years I would be walking into a similar underground music scene that Lou Reed climbed out of; a creative flowing rebellious world of freedom, music, art, dark streets, and clubs!

I would be promoting a world of youthful Rock & Roll that, sometimes, does not age; only personally when we die at an age past forty something!!


The reminder of death.. by Hudley Flipside


The reminder of death..