The Call Of the Holy Baubo Protagonist!

The call of holy Baubo is strong now

The evil shadow of history comes forward again…

The highest court of our land is making it impossible for women to care for their own bodies. When women are deflowered or devalued it is time to look at the other sex… the male, especially all conservative moronic males, and their bitches…. Time to address their sperm and ask the big question,

“If a man gets a woman pregnant without the holy affirming blessing of the great Baubo herself, then off with his balls, or head … whichever. What do you think about that justice?”

Baubo’s theme song…. always and forever.


Chris Bailey’s psychic being is still very strong!

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


I have often written that the band The Saints are one of my only addictions in my life. After the death of Chris Bailey, I have been grieving him and a general time shift. The 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, 2010s and now. Over 40 years. This band led me on a path into a different realm of being. I found a bunch of misfits like myself. I found my voice and I awoke from a kind of existential youthful experience into finding myself and my soul. Music, friends, and a punk community that still holds my heart. Yet also knowing Chris Bailey was born the same time and so close to mine … we share these same generations or ten-year changes. Youth to adulthood and being senior citizens. As this post explains so much more in an indirect way too. In my grief I decided to do something that I do once in awhile to sooth my soul. I reached out to Carl Jung books. What came to mind yesterday was something from one of Carl Jung’s Black Books. Volume two page 175-6. I read from the last paragraph. I call it a random reading. The intuitive response is amazing to me. Encouraging action also. So, with this so much is shared, and I am content to move on past my grief. Into a new season of life knowing that

“the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.” ” (p.162) The Black Books, Volume Two, Carl Jung

Life endures … this gives me hope maybe like finding the Sun!

“In this moment the enormous tension was released and like rain it swept away [57/58] everything that was tensed, too highly strung. And soon sleep returned and brought with it a curiously beautiful image.” {138}

“Forms walked clad in white silk in a colored atmosphere. Each surrounded by a strangely fragrant, glowing tinted aura, some reddish, the others blueish and greenish.” {139}

{138} “This paragraph was replaced in LN by “Then I had a second vision.” ” (p.162)


Picture.. reversed.
The Saints (Barry Francis, Ivor Hay, Janine Hall, Bruce Callaway, Chris Bailey) at The Hero of Waterloo, Sydney. 1980. Picture by Judi Dransfield Kuepper…) image taken from article by John Willsteed, https://theconversation.com/a-gentleman-with-the-mad-soul-of-an-irish-convict-poet-remembering-chris-bailey-and-the-blazing-comet-that-was-the-saints-181059?fbclid=IwAR3o-g8RRKpyNxgIQ6x7QsihP9fTBaDqaBZhzozuQI0oHlaWVenjLWeZ_F8

{139} “Jung recounted this dream to Aniela Jaffé and commented upon it as follow: “This is some kind of in-between realm (the term definitely occurs in the original version of the dream) The idea was that if one is confronted with the shadow- as was the case through the experience of Siegfried’s dream– then the idea comes: I enter into a twilight: I am this and yet also something else. And this doubleness an abdication of the unconscious, which reached strangely far beyond me. Like a saint’s halo– This has a strange effect on the attitude toward the human being. If one is in the company of several persons, and one knows them and knows about their shadows, one then sees these people as they are, but are also something entirely different. They are surrounded by a strange sphere. They live in a strange, light-colored sphere, which circumscribes their ‘other’ state. This seemed to me to be like a vision of the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.” (MP, p. 170) The reminder of this entry was replaced in LN by “I know, I have stridden across the depths. Through guilt I have become newborn.” ” (p.162)

Siegfried’s dream

http://mlwi.magix.net/siegfried.htm

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Books_(Jung)


radiance of words

Star Flower

Walking around the block a mile this evening, I thought upon the Russia- Ukraine war. How despondent and sad I become. At the same time a memory comes forward of a time in the early 1990s on Long Island New York. I was visiting with the Poor Clares and the Franciscan Brothers. I corresponded with Sister Philomena for years. She told me once,

“It is best you join the world again. Meet someone, settle down, get married and have children.”

And so, I did.

As I was walking, I looked and saw a star blossom upon the ground I said to myself,

“Star I see you within this flower.”

I thought instantly of the Canticle of Brother Sun and Sister Moon by St. Francis of Assisi.

Once years ago, I awoke to an invitation one morning to join in the reading of this with the Brothers and Sisters. How lovely it felt to be there and feel such radiance of words.

The point of my memory and experience tells me this. That we live in a contrary world of both beauty and heart ache. It is up to us to balance these two extremes the best we can.

“Praised    be    You    my    Lord    through    our    Sister,   

Mother    Earth   

who    sustains    and    governs    us,   

producing    varied    fruits    with    colored    flowers    and    herbs.

Praise    be    You    my    Lord    through    those    who    grant    pardon    for   

love    of    You    and   

bear    sickness    and    trial.”

Butterfly

Crone Mantis Watercolor by Hudley

“The butterfly teaches us to not be afraid of change and transformation for, as warm and fuzzy as a caterpillar may be, it is the butterfly that lives fully and beautifully after having endured the fear and darkness of the unknown to reach the light outside the cocoon.” Pg. 178, SUN BEAR.

Sharing and setting limitations.

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

I am listening!

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

I went back into my cave and did research.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time is mine now “like good angels, walk at either hand.”

As the year comes to a close or “crashing close’” as a friend of mine described it I just feel like I am “drifting.” Yet in my heart and mind I feel something stirring as projects, impossible goals, and dreams. If I can live as long as Betty White did there are numerous things to aspire too. I call my muses to agree with me. I call upon my imagination of hopes and possibilities and by the Graces I will be happy in my cave during a pandemic that crosses this border between two years of 2021 and 2022.

I start with a new random book pick and first paragraph I see to read. I pull the mighty hand of praying mantis and so the book is found. I open the book and so I see a quote and now I write it down.

“Filial and fraternal love must satisfy her, and grateful that such ties are possible, she lives for them and is content. Literature is a fond and faithful spouse, and the family that has sprung up around her… is a profitable source of satisfaction to her maternal heart… Not lonely… not idle, for necessity, stern, yet kindly teacher, has taught her the worth of work: not unhappy, for love and labor, like good angels, walk at either hand.”

“Happy Women” Essay by Louisa May Alcott. / Pg. 171 The Heroine with 1,000 FACES By Maria Tatar


Time movement

This is my winter solstice poem for 2021


Water drop in time. by Hudley Flipside 2021

There is something

Real and magical

Between a breeze

And the top of a

Pool of water

An in between language

A pattern of symbols

Mandalas, ancient texts

It gets talking so fast

I don’t understand it all.

Then Silence as is now.

I wait

Beginning again

A rich diplomatic dialogue

Transcendence

Old time ancient rhymes.

Spirit moved across the face of the waters still…

How it moves upon the face of my waters

This ancient

Rogue tongue….

Breathe it in …

A constant story

For us all

rebuilding

renewing

Inspiring life to unfold …

An in-between place

I wait for the elves …

The Fay move …

stretch and turn.

– Hudley

Mythos of Punk Rock

John Crawford Revolutionary Fetus Cartoon series image 1980.
Drawn directly on my leather. X-8 gave me this jacket.

My story is a tributary that flows into a larger living water of music that is beyond me now. For all those that were there from the beginning I know you have a story to share too.

~ Hudley Flipside


https://www.amazon.com/My-Punkalullaby-Seminary-Praying-Fanzine/dp/1687250707

2019 is when I completed the template on my memoir. Catching images and people that still run through my psyche.

Just the other night in a dream I ended up backstage. The door opened and before I knew it five big punks from a band, and I were taking pictures. Their friendly arms around me made me feel inclusion.

It is a time that still haunts me. As in every generation of my life. All are unique times. Vastly changing and different generations.

I wrote My Punkalullaby as my two boys were growing up. It is not a perfect story, but it does hold a mythos of punk rock. I just received copyright for my book. I am celebrating three years of mission complete as my book moves into the world. A rebellious history about a young woman who help document a punk rock scene.

It is comforting to know that several of the bands I loved are still out playing. There is not a scene like there once was but now the punk genre is solid and so the story moved forward.

Below is an excerpt of Christmas day 1978.

“One empty Christmas day, Crazy Keith and I took the bus from South Gate to Woodland Hills where my folks lived. We had to make a stop in Hollywood to transfer buses. The hollow feeling as we waited for the bus on Hollywood Boulevard still impresses me with the echo of merry-go-round music.

A miniature one was going around and round on top of a truck parked nearby. There was an offbeat sound of music, and trash filled a lonely boulevard before us. An old lady down the street walked slowly toward the bus stop where we sat. She was searching in trash cans.

When she reached us, the skinny crippled woman held out a half-eaten apple. Not as a gift but for money.

I lost Crazy Keith a year later somewhere to someone and quickly got over his obnoxious, talkative, and controlling personality and moved on.”

~ MY PUNKALULLABY, HUDLEY FLIPSIDE


Ritual helps…

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

“And so, the stars see you.

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

And listen, they already know your name.”


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


What Happens When You Get Lost

By William Stafford

Out in the mountains nobody gives you anything.

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

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

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

Turn into an Indian.

You remember stories and now you know that the tellers were

Part of all they told.

And everyone else was, and even you.

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

And those questions that people always ask-

“What would you do if…”

They have their own answer right now- nothing.

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

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

Because mistakes have consequences that do not just disappear.

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

And so, the stars see you.

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

And listen, they already know your name.


I find ritual in writing too and I think,

“Oh Boy, I got to write this down!”

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

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

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



BAUBO PORTAGONIST

She hangs on our bedroom wall

I see her often taunting me to call

An ancient arcane figure deep within my being

I hear her speaking

Often repeating

Her laughter to Demeter

Fragrant womb of all!

I feel a need to share these three Flopside Comics today. It has been awhile since I have. The female collective psyche is taking a blow right now. This is my way of walking us all through it. A friend once asked me,

“But is it, Art?”

That is not the point. Instead it is creative expression by someone who likes to express her throat chakra often for healing purposes.

As this gal here is good at doing. BAUBO PORTAGONIST got Demeter to laugh after losing her lovely child Persephone.



lampoonery
Inquisition

Rides Libido

https://hudleyflipside.com/bubble-gum-flopside-comics-only-two-buck-each/

Ophiuchus

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

Asclepius Trained by Chiron

Rod of Asclepius, staff of Asclepius

The Serpent – entwined Rod (One)

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

In Mythology:

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

Chiron:

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

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

Lyrics

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

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

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

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

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