Tag Archives: spirituality

Only in the shower do I sing…

Doe: a deer, a female deer, alludes to the first solfège syllable, do.
Ray: a drop of golden sun [i.e. a narrow beam of light or other radiant energy], alludes to the second solfège syllable, re.
Me: a name I call myself [i.e. the objective first-person pronoun], alludes to the third solfège syllable, mi.
Fa’ [i.e. “far”]: a long long way to run,” alludes to the fourth solfège syllable, fa.
Sew: [the verb for] a needle pulling thread,” alludes to the fifth solfège syllable, sol.
La, the sixth solfège syllable, lacking a satisfactory homophone (see below), is directly referred to in the song as a note to follow so[l].
Tea: a drink with jam and bread [i.e. the popular hot beverage made by steeping tea leaves in boiling water], alludes to the seventh solfège syllable, ti.


Hugo Wolf1, 3 March 1860 – 22 February 1903) was an Austrian composer


I wish I could sing well. In the 1990s I received my AA in Humanities. This gave me an option to take some fun courses. Do some risky stuff. I took two vocal courses. One was basic, ‘learn how to sing’, with all the fancy techniques like breathing from the diaphragm. Singing ‘do re mi fa sol la ti do’ repeatedly with one single breath was not easy.

I endured the class and sang the song Blue Moon as my final project. I sang the original “Blue Moon” a classic popular song written by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart in 1934. When I joined the chorus as part of a class requirement. I knew my singing was not class “A” stock. We had to perform for Los Angeles Valley College’s Christmas celebrations. I was in the first Christmas sinning group. After we sang I heard a mumble from the audience…, “OK now we will hear the real singers in the next choir singing Christmas music !”

So, I tortured myself and took the next music class that went from learning only how to sing: to singing operettas in German, Italian and French? I really went all out when I decided to sing my final song written by Hugo Wolf. ‘Heut Nacht erhob ich mich um Mitternacht?’ or Last night I rose at midnight.

My wings melted! My voice and confidence as well. I left the course before finals because the class was too much for me. Sometimes a good challenge is about the process of just trying. I did find Hugo Wolf!

If I could sing a song. Like a sexy noir dame. It would be the song below.



Last night I rose at midnight,
Because my heart had furtively stole away,
I asked heart: where are you rushing so
furiously?
It spoke: only to see you, had it run away,
Now see how it must be with my love;
My heart escapes from my breast to see you.

In music, solfège (/ˈsɒlfɛʒ/,[1] also US: /sɒlˈfɛʒ/, French: [sɔl.fɛʒ]) or solfeggio (/sɒlˈfɛdʒioʊ/, Italian: [solˈfeddʒo]), also called sol-fa, solfa, solfeo, among many names, is a music education method used to teach pitch and sight singing of Western music

As a friend of friends


Urania is talking to Uranus
Ambassador to the planets and stars
She calls to Earth
As a friend of friends,
Catalyst of goodness and humor,
to Uranus ascending electric magma
Eccentric insect antenna muses
Human Beings 
To be the best 
we can be.


 

 

 

 

Bubbles…


While sitting in my computer room I heard a lady screaming. In a fire windy weaving voice yelling,

“Fuck you, fuck you , fuck you!!”

The car raced by my home. Oldest son heard it too. It was not directed at us but we did catch it in passing.

Last night while watching reruns of Ancient Aliens I came upon one old image I’ve studied and another that I did not know about. The flower of Life and Leonardo da Vinci’s long-lost portrait of Christ ‘Salvator Mundi’

The flower of Life means many things but the one meaning I love best is that it represents the universe.

The Christ portrait  is fascinating. I am amazed by a sphere he is holding. An interfaith symbol that other religious masters hold as well.

Two mystical round bubbles or circles of insight came together in my mind.  Because Leonardo da Vinci shows the Flower of Life in his works, I found this an interesting point of reflection and study.

So I did my own improvisation and put the flower of Life in the bubble sphere. It was fun to do.

I hope the lady who was screaming will have a better day then she seemed to be having.


Flower of Life Symbol

 


 

Leonardo da Vinci’s long lost portrait of Christ ‘Salvator Mundi’

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/bubble/

Leonardo da Vinci’s long lost portrait of Christ ‘Salvator Mundi’


Flower Of Life

In Return

Receptive, illumination and synchronicity, I’m a wise old blooming flower, waiting to be pollinated, I’m receptive to what I shall become, Let life approach me, I do not have to go seeking, I have all I need to succeed, I’m a beautiful rose,
wise, good and ready.
I can be trusted, I follow things through, I speak my mind, Let the spirit of god / goddess, move over my deep dark waters.
Receptive as an open flower. Now, waiting for life to impregnate me.
“The Rose makes honey,” the rose gives honey in return.


 

A dream sets the pace of the day…

“One can beg, buy, be presented with and find love in the streets, but it can never be stolen.”
Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

A Gift from Saturn and a Poem for Him

Winged centaur
Invisible sounding hooves
Upon the backyard cement.

Lifted me upon his back
We flew through
The rain, clouds, and satellites
Rounding the earth.

Straight and fast towards
Saturn’s castle
He is to give me a gift.

I’ve waited upon the words
Of Buffalo yesterday and today
“Today Saturn will give
You a gift… today today!”

I waited and wondered
Tonight, as I watch the hearth fire
I heard the call towards Saturn
As before …

I rode over frozen land
Blue ice and white paths
Over all we flew 
centaur’s wings outstretched
Gracefully I slip off the centaur.

I walked towards the big door
Dark but when opened
Filled with light and beings
Those who lived there
Those who were visiting like me.

An earthling's visits are often short
Saturn, I found
Up the golden spiral staircase
Waiting with a smile
And comfortable charm.

Saturn gave me a gift
A green box
Asking me
Not to open it now.

Wait until I am home
And place it over the fire
On your hearth,
The gift will reveal
Itself to you.

My journey home was fast
I made a space upon my hearth
Above the fire
Then turning to look out the window.

The wet outdoors
From a cold rain
Found me hoping
For a real cymene.

Of the ascending centaur
Glissading and glistening
Away from my soul through the rain
Under a full peeking moon.

Saturn told me
To write a poem about the green box
A gift from him
And so, I have.


 

Vesta Image

I have enrolled a new image for The Seminary of Praying Mantis. She is Vesta.

“In her role as sister. Vesta represents the principle of focus and commitment. She functions as autonomous self-identity transforming creative energies into purifying and integrating personal circuitry.” ~ Demetra George & Douglas Bloch

You risk tears

You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed.

~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Dad was not an easy person to deal with. I was told so by many a nurse. One nurse complained that we brought him a man with the DTs. We were yelled at and dad was sedated. 


Uncle Royal, Mom, Dad with the cigarette and his sister Louise. 1942


This may not be the kind of story you want to be reading on Veterans day. Yet it is the truth. I don’t like war or the war machine or military hackers, economic hit men, or bombs of any kind! I know that the history of humanity is a bloody one. I often wonder, astronomically, what kind of stellar rays the earth projects out into our solar system? Power, peace, sex, and equality: rich, poor, inclusive, or exclusive, are all qualities of our dualistic life. Love abides!  Then there are the simple stories of simple people and their alcoholic purple heart WWII veteran dads.  This is one that is funny as well as disheartening.

“The desert is a symbol, Turning it green is about much more than agriculture.” Chapter 13, pg. 129, Confessions of an Economic Hit Man -John Perkins

Mom was already signed up for Kaiser Permanente. Dad was with the VA. Seemed all was taken care of as they moved into their twilight years. As we age our bodies start to break down and when mom and dad hit their 90s it was unavoidable.  Dad stopped watering the garden and brushing the pool. In his 80s he still golfed and did walk the full course. Amazing you say? Well he also powered down lots of booze too? He told many a good story drunk as well. Then there was always the meanness of his personality. The pendulum swung. It swung back and forth. They never knew but I knew, like the sun rising and setting, I would have to unfortunately deal with his nastiness. We all endured his abuse in my family.

We all speculated on the facts that dad learned or acquired this behavior because of his service in the military as a Captain pilot of the Army Air Force during WWII. Dad’s B-52 was shot down the same day as Saint Exupery plane, July 31, 1944. {Exupery authored the book The Little Prince.} Exupery’s mysteriously disappeared but dad survived off the island of New Guinea with a broken back.

As a child we celebrated this day with a cake. My mom was very creative and designed a little B-25 plane crashed on the Island of New Guinea. I helped make up the blue dye frosting for the cake one year. So, we justified his alcoholism. That is what I learned.

Years later when dad started to show signs of dementia I advised mom to sign him up with Kaiser Permanente. A nice representative went to their house and got dad all taken care of. It was not much longer that Kaiser stepped in to help him. He was sick. Dad’s dementia got worse. We thought it was Alzheimer’s. His doctor told us he fried his brain drinking to much booze. I was not surprised but mom was. The whole family except for me were in denial about this.

Now for the funny part of the story.  My siblings were going to change the world and my dad too. Sister and one of the brothers told me this,

“Kaiser is not doing the best for dad. It is a terrible place and we need to get him better help!”

This was only a month after mother’s death. Kaiser helped her transition and gracefully so. What they told me angered me because I knew that Kaiser helped both of our parents. I was there to witness it at the time.  Once the big boy and sister siblings kicked in I was pushed aside for their brilliance. Most of them lived out-of-town and only came to visit a few times a year. This is how you are treated when you are the youngest in my family. I am the only one to still live where I grew up!

Now for another funny part of the story.

One of the second oldest brothers glorified the VA. There were two hospitals near dad. The VA hospital near Westwood and the one out in Northridge. Neither wanted to help. Yet there was a retirement adult care facility out in Northridge. This is where brother with glory glory told me how wonderful this VA hospital was. Brother spoke the words of the angels. He described the cleanliness of the place. The courtesies and how St. Peter of the golden gate stood to greet him.

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I went there with my nearest brother sibling. We interviewed with the adult day care coordinator. As I walked into the facility I was impressed. The live sound of a grand piano, the ruffle of a newspaper and friendly smiles as I walked by were warmly inviting. In her office the coordinator asked the questions. She wanted to know about my dad. My sibling was not honest. I tried to explain to this lady who my dad really was and how he behaved. I knew that dad was not the right person for this lovely holy holy VA place. I also advised my siblings the mistake they were making. Adjoined to this lovely adult day care was a medical facility. I reflected to myself that would be the best place for dad.

Siblings took dad there. He only lasted 15 minutes and was kicked out. He argued with the coordinator and pushed her.

“Having foresight is a terrible thing when nobody’s listening !!”

The VA was not there for my dad in his most vulnerable stage of his life. They could not handle his illness. Alcoholism and meanness is unacceptable! Back to Kaiser they went with their tail between their legs!! Kaiser treated dad with respect and showed him difficult dignity.

I never received a we are sorry or an apology for their failed effort. Holy holy VA Hospital symbolically burned to the ground and was never mentioned again.  I know that oldest brother always expected me to take over and take care of dad. I declined the offer. Oldest brother treated me like dirt too. With a husband and two kids to care for. I would have gone insane taking care of my dad too. He was very abusive.

I remember before his demise, dad did turn down home health aides because they were ugly or too fat. They were not up to his standards of a dame. I suggested that they put him in a nursing facility.  He would be happy there. A good facility would keep him sedated.

“NO,” they said.

We did the best we could for dad. I know we all loved him. One of my siblings had nowhere to live, had no family to care for or property or job. He did not have a car, nor did he drive. He moved in with dad at the family home and became a saint. Luckily, I drove and was there if they needed a drive. And so, the story goes…

Under his care dad ran away a couple of times. One time he hitched a ride to the coast over 30 miles away. He had no memory of us anymore. The police picked him up at a bar off the Pacific Coast Hwy. He smelled the drenched smell of hard alcohol! He was fresh with the lady police officer who was polite to him… regardless!


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A Honorable friend…

“The old generation is going. What will the new bring us? What shall we ourselves contribute? <…> Destiny says to us: “Show what is in thee! Now is the moment, now is the hour, else fall back into nothingness! It is thy turn! Give the world thy measure, say thy word, reveal thy nullity or thy capacity. Come forth from the shade! It is no longer a question of promising, thou must perform. The time of apprenticeship is over. Servant, show us what thou hast done with thy talent. Speak now, or be silent forever.”
-Henri-Frédéric Amiel, Amiel’s Journal

“I feel as I were disintegrating and “growing up”, whatever that means, simultaneously.”
-James Agee, Letters of James Agee to Father Flye

contradictory

“But you’ve got the beauty and strength of love on your side. And if we can find our sense of humor too…why, these are the weapons of the angels.” ~ A Summer Place (1959)

I raised my kids on old school punk rock. That is not the only music playing but it had the noticeable charm that was part of my life and  theirs. Very good character building.

Years after their attack on the punk rock world the Misfits first album was played in our car when the kids were young. I purchased the CD at Wal-Mart.  They laughed and danced to the humor and wildness of this original punk music. I told them my adventures with the band. I told my kids about a barefoot Glenn Danzig who was not much taller than my oldest son at 13. Maybe the thought of their long bangs hanging in their faces or their sense of humor is what made mean love the band so much back in the 1980s… The Misfits are a big wig band now. I remember when they were youths and fun as hell to be with.

My youngest refers to me as “Mommy!” His voice is deep enough now, at 16  to echo Glenn’s voice from the song, “Mommy, Can I Go Out and Kill Tonight?” The Walk Among Us album is my all-time favorite Halloween punk album… ever.

Maybe it is in bad taste to think about this song. The violence and shooting in Las Vegas is not something to belittle in any way. Humor is something contradictory to the grief and horror we share now. The early punk scene had a whole lot of humor mixed in with the bad stuff.

President Donald J. Trump Proclaims October 15 through October 21, 2017, as National Character Counts Week

This is different to the soullessness of our current President. He has the character of a consuming black hole. It seems ironical that he could even think of this month as a time of National Character.  I guess one can have anti-character. As the anti-man or doppelgänger.  The only character Trump has is the mockingly strange lies that fly around him.

The only good quality that bounces off him, what I find about the anti-man is that he makes me laugh. Maybe there is a thread in his tiny soul that we can pull on. Maybe his poor soul is in bondage to his big ego? Somehow we can tie his little meek soul to some astro zombies and pull it out of him?

There is a contradictory tweet for almost every occasion. ~

Alex Hindman, Fortune, “The Roots of Trump’s Hypocrisy,” 29 Aug. 2017