Comrades who whisper from the dead. Tall Drinks!!

Holly ready to send her laser… by Shyane

Part one:

Reading a few introductory books before entering The Red Book by CG Jung is a wise thing for me to do. Current historians and psychologists with a depth psychology twist are a nice tall drink. Understanding that Jung had a hard time deciding, in his life, whether to publish the book or not makes me feel as if I am violating his soul in reading it at all….after his death too. Whispering in my ear my entire quasi adult life makes me feel differently about this.

Reading these pre books I am affirmed in my conclusion. That he wrote the book for others as well as for himself.

Jung even encouraged his patients and friends to make a Red Book of their own. Comrades who whisper from the dead. Alchemy personified…but why me, why know and why share? This is a personal insight form a lay person that just happens to have a soul like everyone else… even those with PHDs! As an artist, with insight, I can try to write!

This complements this journey before I enter his world…personal yes but collectively through our mutual histories; past, present and future dreams. I wonder if the computer and blogging were around, in Jung’s time, if he too would use it freely to creatively express himself. I think he would have loved to. How brave we have become in sharing who we are!!
Just as I know there is evil in the world I know there is also goodness.

I have witnesses both, experienced both and been both-and I will continue- yet one thing I have not altered is my innocence. Maybe this is the reason for suffering and sorrow. I think I need to blend a little of the two, evil and goodness, within my cauldron. Stirring it and truly becoming a real adult in the real world. Speaking symbols and watering my essence of insight. You can take it or leave it.

“The Sun its shadow complete the work.”

~ Michael Maier Atlanta Fugiens-279 Book Jungian Psychoanalysis.

When posting on Facebook or WordPress I find that the best responses received by others are the authentic ones I post. All the news, politics and other things just don’t get the same input. Ok maybe the punk rock stuff gives me an edged kick but I was very innocent and rebelliously aesthetic back in the 1980s!!

It is uncomfortable for me to share who I am now, yet when I post my mug, something I created, or some personal insight; I usually get a satisfactory response. Even if it is quick and intuitively posted?? I think we are all looking for authenticity in our lives. Communication!!

As Jim Morrison from the Doors said, “Something Sacred.”

When we see it in another we feel it, we know it. This is the best of human communications. Though it may be rough, vague and juicy… it is what we need. We may even crave it. Collectively and/or as an individual. The mind, heart and soul is part of this equation. It is art, magic and touches those hidden places in us.

It can fall into the formation of math and logic. As effervescent sparks of knowledge. It moves through pain and pleasure as emotional release. It jumps and dances with “look at me” and “I see you.” It is normal, natural but hidden sometimes within the shadow of our sun. We have to go looking for it. It is when we share our authentic self or our aesthetic self… we all respond to it.

Pre books: Lament of The Dead Psychology after Jung’s Red Book ~ James Hillman & Sonu Shamdasani,/ The Red Book Liber Novus A readers Edition CG Jung Edited with an Introduction by Sonu Shamdasani./ The Seven Sermons to the Dead.

delicious good

You walk into your home to find a couple you don’t know sitting in your living room, eating a slice of cake. Tell us what happens next…


I listened to and knew the song that was playing in the room. There before me were two men, one of the men reminded me of Timothy Leary. Between them on a small wooden table was a cake. It was a large white cake with colorful candies on top that slowly changed into a round bowl filled with many-colored candies, no wait… pills… red, blue, yellow, and black.

I had walked into a psychedelics party. Then one of the men said,

“Hello there Holly, I see you are coming back to us, honey!”

“Yes” said Timothy. “It seems you were lost somewhere other than here in this room.”

The two men still seemed strange to me. I told them I did not want any more of the pill candy. They looked at each other.

“You have had enough sister!”

“We opened up some crazy stuff from yon unconscious and wrote it all down for you in this funny looking red book you brought us, sweetie!”

“You did, why?”

“Ah look at that? Maybe a cup of tea will bring you back to us!!”

The little red book was half the size of a paperback book that you see at most libraries. I put it to my nose, and it smelled like earth, rain and I could not put a name to the other smell. I opened the book, and it was filled with images, words, and poems. One of the images was of a floating woman. Her hands were raised up and she was doing cartwheels through space. I then became that woman. I was flying over the eye of a tornado and said to myself,

“It is so peaceful up here. I know it is not the same down there.”

Someone grabbed my hand. I was sipping on some warm tea. I grasped the teacup in my hands. I drank it all down. The sugar on the bottom was delicious, good.

The two men smiled at me, while one said,

“Holly, it is all ok. Everything is just fine!!”

“Hello there… it is good seeing you two again!”

If you don’t know the song,
If you can’t put the words to the tune,
Tell the rhyme from the reason,
What should it matter
To the fool or the dreamer?

~ Moody Blues