Random Pick Book day is Sunday; “shape the raw creative vision.”

On this Super Full Moon in Pisces where my emotions take over every little hair on my body. I think the long hand of mantis is pulling randomly. A green-golden flash pulls forth a book dusty on the shelve. Portraits and Observations The Essays of Truman Capote. The book is opened to A Voice from a Cloud. I usually only read the first paragraph but so satisfied , my eyes wander with my desire to read two.

“…mysterious, deep, very clear creek…wade and swim in the pure water…”

“One frosty December afternoon I was far from home, walking in a forest along the bank of a mysterious, deep, very clear creek, a route that led eventually to a place called Hatter’s Mill. The mill, which straddles the creek, had been abandoned long ago; it was a place where farmers had brought their corn to be ground into cornmeal. As a child, I’d often gone there with cousins to fish and swim; it was while exploring under the mill that I’d been bitten in the knee by a by a cottonmouth moccasin-precisely as happens to Joel Knox. And now as I came upon the forlorn mill with its sagging silver-gray timbers, the remembered shock of the snakebite returned; and other memories too-of Idabel, or rather the girl who was the counterpart of Idabel, and how we used to wade and swim in the pure waters, where fat speckled fish lolled in sunlit pools; Idabel was always trying to reach out and grab one.” Pg. 283 Par. 2.

“In toto” as a whole : totally or completely

” Excitement-a variety of creative coma-overcame me. Walking home, I lost my way and moved in circles round the woods, for my mind was reeling with the whole book. Usually when a story comes to me, it arrives, or seems to, in toto: a long sustained streak of lighting that darkens the tangible, so-called real world, and leaves illuminated only this suddenly seen pseudo-imaginary landscape, a terrain alive with fingers, voices, rooms, atmospheres, weather. And all of it, at birth, is like an angry, wrathful tiger cub; one must sooth and tame it. Which, of course, is an artist’s principal task: to tame and shape the raw creative vision.” Page 283, Par 3.

ritualistic gesture


Now being presented: The Haggus Society, Edges and Curves July 1 – Sept. 30, 2015

As a ritualistic gesture eating ones power animal, or totem, is practiced globally around the world. I won’t even go down the pew aisle of what the body and blood of Christ is all about. It is an act that empowers us. At church, in the amazon jungle or …wherever the unconscious and the conscious  dance that voodoo dance.

Over the years I have done this dance with the Praying Mantis. In a dream I had, there was a bowl of sweet and sour praying mantis soup. Ingesting my totem is ingesting into my conscious mind …my unconscious. I bet that makes you feel like you’re upside down under water. Praying Mantis teaches me about life, death and rebirth. She teaches me about love and the continuity of life. She shows me that family and friends are not as dependable as the sun in the sky or the pattern of the cosmos. Standing tall and silent is a power gesture of her power and I make it my power. Praying Mantis is a beautiful nature colored creature. This art piece is my expression through art of my dream. I used things around the house and the computer to create the piece; cardboard, acrylic, watercolor / photo shop, printer via the computer. Four golden buttons from my mothers collection; items that I touch and use every day. Embracing around the piece is a dark green handmade Paper Mache’ frame made from recycled paper. I like to compose and then compress a lot of information into my essays and art that brings forth an archetype, myth or a thread for the possibility of  communication between our mysterious collective unconscious.


ridiculously real

Stock Market Now…”carnage and pain”…”something is very wrong”…”It spiked up…then dived back down”…”Chaos”…” Manic mood to the market… 1960-1970s…Nixon…social rebellion…”- Taken from on going quotes on the news.


My Morning Glories wishing for The Pleiades

Chaos is not the worst of things to happen. Out of chaos comes change and is a noticeable pattern in the scheme of things. Imagine looking up and seeing the money Gods fighting their greedy wars. Now I contrast this with my Morning Glories; wishing for the Pleiades to return in the nightly sky. This stability is so much a part of their life and it is so ridiculously real.  Time to wish and dream.

child in the dark.

Unknown to one another Goethe and Blake meet in anathematizing Newton.  ~ Great Writings of Goethe, Stephen Spender

Night Thoughts

You I pity, twice unhappy stars, Being lovely, blessed with bright effulgence, Gladly shedding light for ships in danger, Yet by gods and mortals unrewarded: Love you cannot, never yet knew love! But incessantly eternal hours Move your ranks through vast celestial spaces. O, what distant journeys you’ve completed Since, reposing in my loved one’s arms, You and midnight wholly I forgot.

~ Goethe, Translated By Michael Hamburger.

The Death of the Virgin 1803 William Blake 1757-1827 Presented by the executors of W. Graham Robertson through the Art Fund 1949 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/N05899

The Death of the Virgin 1803 William Blake 1757-1827 Presented by the executors of W. Graham Robertson through the Art Fund 1949 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/N05899

I take two pills as symbolic of something more…and yes I take them whenever the two pills present their medicine to me. I have gobbled them down like a feverish child in the dark. Wondering why they are there and why they have inspired me so. In fact I was just deep in thought wondering why I love them so. Holding nothing of my usual shyness or mistrust against them ever. But how can two symbolic pills be them?

One is William Blake and one is Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. One English and one German. They fill me from the inside out making; sense out of life, light out of darkness and hope out of failure.

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I am not an expert on either one. I have many books about them. I reflect on their work and I often only need one very small pill, of either of them, to awaken my healing to something better than the mundane life I often live. To anticipate answers in a creative spark. Their art and words open onto me as if a wonderful knowing of a strange land forgotten. They know imagination and all the powers there of. That is the medicine in their pills to me. Their holistic approach to life is put forth in their creations. I will continue to take them as my extramundane pills.

Questioning change and our contemporary world… I feel is a healthy thing to do. It may not be part of the Status quo to see through the eyes of my two friends here but it is wonderfully real and takes me to many a dark midnight lit by the their firesides.



“A little song on the breeze”
What a gentle little Zephyr
This evening will sigh
Under the pines in the little grove.
And the rest he’ll understand.”
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Act III Duetto: “Sull’aria…che Soave Zeffiretto”


Andy Dufresne: That’s the beauty of music. They can’t get that from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?

Red: I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn’t make much sense in here.

Andy Dufresne: Here’s where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don’t forget.

Red: Forget?

Andy Dufresne: Forget that… there are places in this world that aren’t made out of stone. That there’s something inside… that they can’t get to, that they can’t touch. That’s yours.

Red: What’re you talking about?

Andy Dufresne: Hope. ~The Shawshank Redemption

The last eight years has been a strange recapitulation for me of my life. Some esoteric individuals call it a preparation for the “return of Saturn in my natal chart.” It is the time of turning 57 to 60. Yet I have experienced it, all the same, in the last eight years. A couple of years before 2010 is when it started; a need to look back at my youthful rebellion. Now the revival or nostalgia has reached a Peak of the Bell Curve. As a generation feeling, I was not the only one from my generation feeling the same pull. It is all in the song, one note to the next, and it took me back to a time when finding a 45 was not an easy proposition. Now it is too darn easy. Writing a book has lost its charm now because there are so many ‘telling a tale’ or ‘weaving a story ‘of those same rebellious times. For me it all comes down to the experience. Looking it square in the face and being happy. I am admiring old friends that still hang to the musical notes of rebellion , where some friends /comrades are as warm as the sun and others as cold as death. Yet it is a good journey still to hope for something new without memories.

Andy Dufresne: You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? 

Red: No.

Andy Dufresne: They say it has no memory. That’s where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory. ~The Shawshank Redemption


stephen king

Light and the Word

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”
Helen Keller

1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2The same was in the beginning with God. 3All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4In him was life; and the life was the light of men. 5And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not. ~ John I King James Bible

I awoke with this on my mind. I memorized this quote this way from my youth. I have always had a quiet understanding of things. Personal experiences and at times not so easy. Yet it is a ongoing study of culture, religion or belief systems. The secular, atheists or feminists  are interesting to listen to too and learn from; which are contrasting and comparable to my own experiences of this question of The Word and the Light.

“Science may have found a cure for most evils; but it has found no remedy for the worst of them all — the apathy of human beings.”
Helen Keller

What moved me this morning was the simplicity of two things. The Word and The Light. From a Jungian perspective this can be viewed objectively  or subjectively.

That which is below is like that which is above, and that which is above is like that which is below, to perform the miracles of one only thing.

Hermes Trismegistus


Aurea Catena. The Golden (or Homeric) Chain in Alchemy in the series of great wise men [ women], beginning with Hermes Trismegistus, which links earth with heaven. Watercolor by Hudley 1989

What is life?
It is the flash of a firefly in the night.
It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.
It is the little shadow which runs across
the grass and loses itself in the sunset.
Crowfoot, Blackfoot warrior and orator 1830 – 1890


Dance of the Salamander

imageMy totem

This little creature has the power to sustain fire! Symbolically it is standing tall within the fires of life! As a totem symbol, that runs throughout many cultures, it is a remarkable one! Alchemically it is the power of fiery reactions and used with cool water to make steam!

Mary O’Hare

“I have told my sons that they are not under any circumstances to take part in massacres, and that the news of massacres of enemies is not to fill them with satisfaction or glee.” Pg 19 Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughter House -Five, The Children’s  Crusade, A Duty-Dance with Death.

Reading out loud  the first chapter… to an innocent person of 40 something,  I think upon my duty in life. Simple it is a life that is to honor and house a new children’s crusade. Fold laundry, cleaning  toilets and spying  around corners;  I do for them. Books, CD’s and games galore fill this woman’s crusade. OK Mary O’Hare?

The Meaning of life…

“From the cupola of the Church of Our Lady, I saw the sad ruins among the beautiful city buildings; the church sexton praised the architect for having built the bomb proof church and cupola. Then the sacristan, musing about the ruins that lay all around us, said critically, using few words: ‘The devil has done this!’ ” ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Pg. 18 SHF

old feelings…

God is every man

Flopside Comics

The arch of her back ,

the tall reach of fullness up front,

that isn’t it.

Her hair is growing

please no… not those feelings again.

The smiles and looks

she gets… she knows.

The smell of her perfume,

or them…

She’s been around

please don’t….don’t bring those feelings back again.

That dream in Hotel 88

sushi on Topanga and Saticoy,

Her growing hair is doing it again…

close to her shoulders…

She is over this…

let the men not bring back

those feelings again.

And so she cut her hair short…

Chaos’s beam of light too!

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Random book day again is Sunday, but we know that Blue moon has spread her chaos on our life like mayonnaise on a crisp piece of toast. Crunchy and delicious….choke, choke cough; need some hot coffee to get it down. Ya you know what I’m talkin’ bout !! So today I whirled around the living room just like chaos.:Round and round-up and down… then out reached the green sword of mantis. The book David Macaulay’s The Way Things Work is the book I will read from today. A gift to my kids from my mom. She loved fiddling with things and fixed all things around her home. Even after her death, in my dreams, she is focused like a microscope on things. All we can do is make a deep exhale and raise out eyebrows. It all be good.

“An optical microscope gives a highly enlarged view of an object that is invisible to the unaided eye. The microscope works in the same way as a refracting telescope, but the object or specimen is very close to the object lenses instead of being distant. The objective lenses form an enlarged real image of the specimen near the eyepiece lenses, and this image is viewed through the eyepiece lenses which further enlarge it. The specimen is illuminated by a beam of light reflected from a mirror and concentrated by condenser lenses.”

Random Book Day By Hudley

Random Book Day By Hudley