Happy May Day !!
A Grace for your pleasure, she is one of three that inspires the Muses of the arts…
Headaches, no sleep and a palpitating heart with rain and thunder and the dark of an endless night. Today the wind makes sounds ancient and whispering as the Celtic Bards of long ago.
He is a rich character, our dear Joseph Campbell. His insights into myth, history, art, religion and our unconsciousness is telling us such old stories. A book that is a must for any person to read is Goddesses, Mysteries of the Feminine Divine. For anyone who wants to know where they came from and solutions to the problems of our currents modern times. I recommended this book. But be careful and beware this book is not a fairy tale ride at Disneyland. It is deeper than our DNA contained in this place called time. Which is to say between life and death. It moves one into another place beyond time as the Celtic Bards did. Stories real and part of all of our histories. A lovely escort to any study of art, history, science, psychology, philosophy, sociology, and religion!
“When Dante was going through the stages of hell, the first and least horrendous was that of the carnal lovers. Among them were Tristan and Iseult and Lancelot and Guinevere, all the great lovers of all time. And he recognizes one couple, Paolo and Francesca, and like a good sociologist he called Francesca down and asks, “How did you get into this condition?” In the most poignant line in the the whole poem [The Divine Comedy] , she answers, “We were reading the book of Guinevere and Lancelot. And when we came to the meeting of the eyes, we looked at each other and read no more in the book that day.” There they are in what looks like hell to us but the wonderful wise miracle man, William Blake, said in his book of aphorisms, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, “I was walking among the fires of hell, delighted with the enjoyment of Genius; which to Angels look like torments and insanity.” I think that’s the answer. So what Tristain accepted was the fire of this agony that is love for eternity, and that will be his life in eternity. ” Pg. 245
I captured this very small image on a William Blake Tarot Card. I enlarged the image on my iPhone camera. I have a magnifying glass to look over all of his images. There is always something on the cards hiding. This is on the card entitled “EXPERIENCE.”
It is inevitable that I will accumulate experience in living my life. Moving forward even if only sitting in a chair. I value experience over anything. I have learned that part of growing as a human being is living with paradox, polarity and something more. That is why I love Blake, he gives me something more. A vast view of life where opposites blend. I then understand my own limitations. There is an inevitable message Blake puts into his work. If I look close enough I joyfully grasp his messages.
The urge to cure the incurable keeps us from recognizing the essence of our limitations, and the limits that come with the psychopathic essence of personality. Praxis Pg. 167, The Dream and the Underworld – James Hillman
An inevitable experience was hearing this song played on the Drive In Speaker between movies in the 1970’s. Glad I found it.
Renewal of hope. Feeling connected with cosmic or universal energies. As Above, So Below. Opening your eyes to the highest potential or your situation. Getting in touch with your own creative powers. Self-esteem. Far-reaching effects. Receiving recognition for your abilities. “Doing your own thing,” no matter what.
stars that fell,
“I have a different idea of elegance. I don’t dress like a fop, it’s true, but my moral grooming is impeccable. I never appear in public with a soiled conscience, a tarnished honor, threadbare scruples, or an insult that I haven’t washed away. I’m always immaculately clean, adorned with independence and frankness. I may not cut a stylish figure, but I hold my soul erect. I wear my deeds as ribbons, my wit is sharper then the finest mustache, and when I walk among men I make truths ring like spurs.”
― Edmond Rostand,
Years ago when I read Cyrano de Bergerac I have attended to his words with a passion. It makes it hard for me to dress. But I dress in a comfortable honest fashion. Since I was a child I have always loved boots, hats and jackets. Always containing and holding the passion of my soul within them. Until I read Rostand’s book I never knew that there was someones else that saw fashion as I did and do.
Words too are a type of clothing for me with the same regards as “I hold my soul erect.” The creative process as well. Ideas and passions are “deeds as ribbons.” I tend to make a mockery of what is cool or fashionably beautiful. “Threadbare scruples, or an insult that I haven’t washed away.”
Green or black tennis shoes, straight leg pants and t-shirts and my Jester outfits hanging in my closet are my “different idea of elegance.” Inside me are goals that do not aspire to the latest fashions but instead inspire to the sensations of my mind, heart and soul.
I have been thinking about William Blake a lot lately. If I could address the inspiration of his “thought body” and “creative soul,” I would dress like him because this is what pulls me. The perfection of his creative dress. I ponder on this and think about how it might be possible to dress to that place of his soul? To be covered by such a sensational creative sense of fashion?
“Blake was not just the author. He also illustrated it, engraved the entire text and the pictures by hand on copper plates, printed it, and hand-colored every copy so that no two were alike. He had even developed the process by which his books were produced, and had prepared his own paints.” *
Sad to say here I do dress like a “Fop.” Yet I am trying to better myself. You see Blake and Bergerac inspire me to make my “truths ring like spurs.” Did I get that right… ??
*Enjoying “The Book of Thel” by William Blake
Ed Friedlander, M.D.
old song that still seems fresh and new ??? How can this be??
When we hear about Ezekiel’s Vision of Divine Glory we most likely think about some strange and wonderful images. William Blake even illustrated them. Very remarkable and inspirational. Yet if one takes a closer look past all the inspiration one finds a testimony of war and war machines. Ezekiel’s glory turns to the horrors of religious war.
1“As for you, son of man, take a sharp sword; take and use it as a barber’s razor on your head and beard. Then take scales for weighing and divide the hair. 2“One third you shall burn in the fire at the center of the city, when the days of the siege are completed. Then you shall take one third and strike it with the sword all around the city, and one third you shall scatter to the wind; and I will unsheathe a sword behind them. 3“Take also a few in number from them and bind them in the edges of your robes. 4“Take again some of them and throw them into the fire and burn them in the fire; from it a fire will spread to all the house of Israel.” ~ Ezekiel Five
My Dad was shot down near the shores of New Guinea. On a last flight as a Captain. He survived the water with a broken back. Every year my mom made a beautiful cake with his plane crashed on the New Guinea cake coast in remembrance of that day. I did not get it as a kid and was only interested in the blue and green frosting.
All this weaved tightly together means when as a child of a WW II veteran I found out that my dad was the recipient of a Purple Heart; I still held no glory for war. I just liked the purple heart as a play thing.
The suffragette movement was a real good war. The right to vote and be heard.
I think we should take the focus off glorifying war and its veterans and focus on the ones in control. The war machine. Take the few and put them on an Island like New Guinea and have them fight their wars. (yes, this is not a new idea). Most likely that would come down to about 5 or 6 men. Powerful war hungry men and corporate heads who search & destroy for profit, land resources and religious or political insanity.
Yes, even though I love William Blake’s illustrations of Ezekiel’s Vision of Divine Glory, Ezekiel was fucking insane. If you have not taken the time to read this from any Gideon’s bible… prepare to be amazed.
I did not take becoming a mom lightly. Growing up in the 1970’s, sex was rampant, provocative with secrets and had plan parenthood. During the 1980s I was too wild to have children and ended up leaving a music scene in order to find a place where I eventually could.
The world my kids are growing up in is now so diverse. Gangs, sex and racism is something they handle with goodness and insight that amazes me. They have come into a technological world that is self-motivating and profoundly enriching. Not to say that technology is perfect because it can be addictive and time-consuming . I find it better than sitting around a circle smoking pot and listening to the same vinyl records over and over again… like the guys I grew up with!
Two things happened today that made me sick to my stomach. The first was finding out that a club on Facebook that looked very inviting, and cute, shamefully turned out to be an exclusive club for colored women. The second thing that happened was a woman rewarding other women for not being mothers. Time to think !!
I don’t know why a young colored woman would want to put a tattoo on herself supporting a club that is racist against white woman, and I don’t know why a woman from my own generation would sarcastically humiliate other women for making the decision to have a child.
When I was a 19-year-old punker I wanted to be sterilized so I could not have children. Considering over population, my own sexual abuse experiences, and the need to control my own body; made me aspire to this. Time to think !
Two abortions, three miscarriages and two baby boys later I am grateful that I decided to have children. It is my body and the opportunity to bring children into this world has been my greatest gift.
I have come to the profound conclusion that life is a mystery. I know that this mystery must know a great deal more of what is going on than we do… us little worms !
When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy (Job xxxviii: 7)
Let there be light (Genesis i: 3)
Let there be a firmament (Genesis i: 6)
Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear (Genesis i: 9)
And God made two great lights (Genesis 1: 16)
Let the waters bring forth abundantly (Genesis i: 20)
Let the earth bring forth the living creature… cattle, and creeping thing, the beast of the earth (Genesis i: 24).
a layperson’s study of William Blake continues under the Pleiades….
Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul?
Job, 3. 20
I am the kind of person that likes to be alone. The sounds of nature outside and the sounds of the house inside bring familiar ways to the reality of life. All seems good. Only when people get involved in my living equation do I get the feeling of being lonely. Those past and preset friends and family I sometimes am lonely for, do show their faces in my heart. I had my first Art show. I was lonely for support. With loneliness comes disillusionment.
I have an image by William Blake. It is a small image in a pretty golden frame. The image is of Job. Above Job are four beautiful angels with their hands and wings ascending upwards. With Job is the adversary and below him is a cave of desperate people. They are all looking up.
We have just finished remodeling our kitchen. I put this image in the new kitchen. I am waiting to properly hang it there. This morning I am amazed to see a ray of light from the morning sun shining on this image. Job is illuminated as well as the Angels above him. The light is perfectly aligned with this part of the image.
When ever I am truly lonely I have images/ paintings around my home that inspire me to look inward: penetrating an image until it starts to speak to me and so enlivens my sometimes lonely soul. I can not think of a character more lonely than Job and like Job sometimes we just have to endure our loneliness for a while.
I would be a fool to say there is one time. so far in my life, where I have been the most lonely. Loneliness is a common feeling we all share…which I do not wish on anyone.
If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is – infinite ~ William Blake
This is a poem created on a triangular form for a fellow student in a poetry class at Los Angeles Valley College. Abraham was a wise mature student taking a course with a bunch of young adults. He teased us and spoke Yiddish in class. He had Holocaust tattoos on his arm that were expanded and dull. He invited the class to his apartment in Van Nuys. Every wall was covered with bookshelves filled with a verity of books. I found a book by William Blake there that day from one of the dusty shelves! I made this to remember Abraham, a simple man of extraordinary insight and purpose!