I am happy to be a member of…
February 2012 – 2020
Welcome to The Seminary Of Praying Mantis. Praying mantis shows me her story of life, death, and rebirth. For me she is an image or symbol of the divine in all things. I watch the praying mantis in my garden and have taken her image as my logo. She is an amazing little creature, and I relate to her connection to nature. We are both wild and part of this strange world. She is a part of my mythology as I am part of hers.
- "In the beginning there was a void except for the written word." The Avengers (Band)
- Art Stuff Man…
- Book Reading of the Day
- Book Reading of the Day, it's Sunday !!
- Books I Dig
- CDs and anything to review that i want toooooooooooooo!!
- Current Events..
- Dialogue with Breasts more than a sex object.
- Embellished non-fiction short stories
- Holly Duval Cornell's Poems & Prose
- My Red Book by Holly Cornell
- Nature Politics
- PUNK NO-stalgia :Punk Rock
- Records, CDs and anything to review that i want toooooooooooooo!!
- The Daily “FUCK” Gazette
- the Esoteric heart beat…
- The Praying Mantis
Stop thinking about art works as objects, and start thinking about them as triggers for experiences. (Roy Ascott’s phrase.) That solves a lot of problems: we don’t have to argue whether photographs are art, or whether performances are art, or whether Carl Andre’s bricks or Andrew Serranos’s piss or Little Richard’s ‘Long Tall Sally’ are art, because we say, ‘Art is something that happens, a process, not a quality, and all sorts of things can make it happen.’ … [W]hat makes a work of art ‘good’ for you is not something that is already ‘inside’ it, but something that happens inside you — so the value of the work lies in the degree to which it can help you have the kind of experience that you call art.
~ Brian Eno
Agathos Daimon, the Good or Rich Spirit”. His numinous presence could be represented in art as a serpent or more concretely as a young man bearing a cornucopia and a bowl in one hand, and a poppy and an ear of grain in the other. The agathodaemon was later adapted into a general daemon of fortuna, particularly of the continued abundance of a family’s good food and drink.
“Scientists know that electromagnetic waves carry information. Radio waves are a common example of how information is sent out via electromagnetic waves. The waves that your heart and brain generate carry information that is sent through your body and out into the space around you, just like a radio transmitter. Yet the heart’s signals have much more power.” – The HeartMath Story, as Told by Founder Doc Childre
I’ve heard it said that the soul doesn’t live inside our body but that it is more like a womb in which we are contained.
Turner, Toko-pa. Belonging: Remembering Ourselves home (Kindle Locations 2739-2740). Her Own Room Press. Kindle Edition.
“This disco guy wanted funk in our sound with 10,000 backing vocals, the guy laughed at Tony when he tried to sing, they treated us like shit. Casey wanted to hit that engineer dick…Posh Boy told us not to play games with him, he’d play games with us. That engineer was a real dick.”
~ Steve Soto ADOLESCENTS
In our over psychological culture, psychological testing substitutes for this seasoned eye and prevents its development. Instead of looking, we test; instead of imaginative insight, we read write-ups; instead of interviews, inventories; instead of stories, scores. Psychology assumes it can get at character by probing motivations, reaction responses, choices, and projections. It uses concepts and numbers to access the soul, rather than relying on the anomalous eye of a practiced observer.
Hillman, James. The Force of Character: And the Lasting Life (Kindle Locations 844-847). Random House Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
It is the prime task of a truly modern mind to endure both the spiritual and the practical as the framework for her life.
Johnson, Robert A.. She: Understanding Feminine Psychology (p. 80). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition. __________________________________
Mysterious in day’s broad light,
Nature retains her veil, despite our imprecations,
and what she won’t reveal to human mind or sight
levers, screws or hammers
cannot wrench from her. ~ Goethe
Faust part 1
Writing has laws of perspective, of light and shade just as painting does, or music. If you are born knowing them, fine. If not, learn them. Then rearrange the rules to suit yourself.
“And just as the soul that is inside your dust.”
~ Pg 8 The Divine Comedy ~ Dante
“I always liked the intensity of the recording.”
~ Chris Bailey from the band The Saints
“Sometimes people try and tell me what is and isn’t punk, or that GBH do or don’t fit in, but they’re generally no older than my socks, and they know about as much. I’ve lived my life doing what I want the way I want to ever since I got expelled from school. Ever since 1977….That’s punk rock”
~ Ross Lomas: From his Book City Baby.
“As I was walking among the fires of Hell,
delighted with the enjoyments of Genius;
which to Angels look like torment and insanity.
I collected some of their Proverbs. ”
~ William Blake, “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell”, 1790
Tag Archives: Punk Museum
The black leather jacket was left behind after one of X8’s female conquests, left behind in his car. He gave it to me and it fit. As a vegetarian and beertarian my frame was petite. Now the jacket is dry and shrunken and I’m round and plump. I had my son model it.
It was a simple complete-black leather jacket. The Charged GBH logo went on top first thing in the early 1980s. I love this jacket. We were inseparable. My friendship with X8 faded and he never knew what became of the jacket. A few years ago X8 and I rekindled our friendship for a brief time on MySpace. I told him about the leather jacket and what became of it. He was surprised and seemed interested.
This leather jacket is special to me because X8 thought to give it to me, and the girl who left it behind…not a clue?
She was known to dance with us round the wild circle in our living room at Halloween parties, and we did the same at her Otis College dorm.
I think it was 1985 when I first met Joy. She was at a rather small punk gathering. She had a camera and very long hair. Hanging at the punk scene is always a great way to meet other punkers. We talked and grew to enjoy her company. I remember the gifts she gave me. One was a blue masque she made in art class with blue feathers. Very Maude Gra !
“I made this for you Hud!
I really did not know what to do with it. I was embarrassed. I took it and kept it for many years. Another gift she gave me a few years later, that I still have, is an image of a flying Ostrich with an Asian/ Indian woman riding it. It is a large art piece that I have framed. It now hangs in my bedroom. I enjoy it immensely. It is an encaustic painting on a silk material. I guess these gifts were her way of wooing our friendship into existence. It seemed to work. Joy worked her way into the Flipside house and became a punk woman of integrity. Her art, shit work and journeys with us to gigs amplified the Flipside crew experience and we all enjoyed her presence.
We met her while she was attending High-School, and then she went onto Otis College of Art and Design of Los Angeles, and then to the prestigious Art Center College of Design of Pasadena. Yes, she grew up right in front of us developing skills I can’t even imagine.
I did not ask her about her family but she told us stories. She volunteered her time with us so I figured as long as she attended college her expenses were all paid for. She was not the struggling artist and she was not guilty or shy. One story she shared with us is about the relationship between her parents and the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Her parents received yearly health-screenings because they moved to California after the war. My dad is a purple-heart veteran that served in WWII. He bombed Japan. Forty years of time and once known enemies are now friends. Amazing!!
It was not easy making it into the ranks of the Flipside house. We had our tests. Joy passed them all and I am proud to call her my friend.
Today the extremes in human nature seem to be battling it out on the human stage. The weather is extreme and nature is bitchy. The feeling I have of deep oppression is swallowing my hopefulness for humanity. Satwant Singh Kaleka and Lt. Brian Murphy are examples of the best of what it means to be a good human being. They were willing to give their life for others. This amazes me. This brings hope back into my heart. August is an extreme time of the year and some of us pop like popcorn. Insane, vicious and diabolical… it is very interesting to observe this even though my foresight told me this would be. The best we can do is go back to doing simple things that make life seem normal again. A hot fudge Sunday, a swim in the pool or a beer at the local pub… but sometimes it is hard to get over the shock and feel normal at all…
Helen Jewel was a consistent staph worker on Flipside Fanzine during the 1980s. We met her through another friend through Pete Landswick. She lived near uptown Whittier in a second story funky apartment. She drove around in an old primer grey Porsche. She had a distinct style about her that was a bit on the Femme fatale side. At the time she worked at a local ceramic business and painted ceramic pieces. She was well-educated in the arts and literature and had a wild side. This is why, I guess, she hung out with us.
I remember when I turned her on to The Misfits. We just saw them live and interviewed them for an issue of Flipside to be published. She did not seem impressed at first, even when I told her all about the band. She was not easily impressed by others at all and told me once,
“If someone has the guts to insult me, I know they are my friend!”
The Misfits were going to play the Whisky A Go Go. I almost begged her to go. I told her,
“You just have to see them to believe them.”
She went. I will never forget the Misfits when they hit the stage. Glen Danzig was between two out-of-sight monsters of testosterone Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein and Jerry Only. Both with their Devilocks hanging down as far as Helen’s mouth.
There just are no words to describe how much fun these guys are to see live, so I won’t, but it felt out of control!
We went out of control!
Also read, Helen Wrote About Dead Clubs
I guess I am just down and dirty disillusioned. I am aware of the Punk Rock Picnics, http://punkrockpicnic.com/Punk_Rock_Picnic/, that have been going on for the last few years. The Punk Rock Bowling in Las Vegas, http://www.punkrockbowling.com/, for years now. I just do not get the appeal? What I see as the continuity of Punk Rock is appealing to me. The idea of a bunch of Punk bands playing does not. It is like condensed punk rock. So much and so many and out in the open is not appealing to me at all.
What pulled me into punk in the late 1970’s was the small clubs and small groups, the intimacy of friends. The Golden Voice shows grew in Los Angeles and Santa Monica into the Olympic Auditorium and Santa Monica Civic Auditorium… shows as these were as big as I could stand it~ for me. I was spoiled and spent most of my time backstage. It burned me out too. I just do not get it? Why do these bands that I have viewed, known and loved want to gather together like a bunch of hippies and party in such as massive way? Like Coachella man. This really sucks! I am very sad and just don’t get that this is really happening. My family tells me, “Hey, they can do what they want!” And, “Why should you care what they do?” My reply is from deep inside me, “It is so stupid…I hate this. Is this what Punk Rock has come to?” Is it all about recognition, being cool or popular or making bigger bucks? I wonder how many punk bands said no to play at this outdoor festival. Is there any individualized thinking going on here anymore?
There has always been the fine line, a place that bands crossed. They went on to the major record labels. Some bands crossed the line and for them the fans could not be held back. This is not what I am talking about. It is about jamming so many bands together over such a short time in a hippie like festival. I just don’t get it. It is a disloyalty to the small clubs and quaint shows. This is not supporting your local bands.
Maybe I am wrong but I can honestly say that I just don’t feel the vibe, it does not inspire me and I will never go to one of these really big shows. I guess it is just me. I have been moving back to quality over quantity for a couple of years now. I feel better this way. It will not be the first time I stood alone. SO be it…
The vessel of spiritual transformation
In the writing of Poimandres (a pagan gnostic) the Krater was a vessel filled with the spirit, which the creator-god sent down to earth so that those who strove for higher consciousness might be baptized in it. It was a kind of uterus of spiritual renewal and rebirth and corresponded to the alchemical vase in which transformation of substances took place. The parallel to this in Carl Jung’s psychology is the inner transformation process known as individuation.
I have a little book that I wrote the above quote in some thirty years ago. This quote came to mind upon seeing this Krater at the Getty Museum. Funny after all these years that this quote and this vase or vessel come together. It is something that I have consciously been alerted too. This is synchronicity learning that has a life of its own. In all I feel quite happy.