Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Plants and the Emerald Kingdom Purple, Magic & Sorcerers Uncategorized Writings

Me & Geography

Recently, I haven’t been feeling like myself. This could be from spending too much time on Facebook where you don’t get treated like yourself, but more as a dumping bin for people’s unwanted emotions.

The reason I was on Facebook, though, was because I couldn’t move for a while due to a kidney infection. And so I’ve been taking antibiotics which might also be causing me to feel strange as the bacteria I have loved and relied upon die off around me.

Last night in a dream, I was attacked by two men. A third one came up to save me, but it turned out he was a friend of the bad guys and stuffed me into their black van.

My life feels upside down. I live in a large historic house which requires money and care, but my husband’s job is building a cryptocurrency trading site that pays nothing. Nor does he want me to work, since he prefers I spend my time on music & other shadowy interests. So, financially, there is not just a paucity but a growing vacuum, with no sign of change in sight.

Psychically, I feel depleted because my husband sleeps through the day and works through the night, meaning I rarely see him. Lacking transportation or friends in this city, I rarely see anyone else either. I can make friends online, but there I am just a replaceable commodity. People are friends so long as political ideas align, but the second ideas diverge it is over. And still it is essential to talk about politics, because it is the only thing online people are passionate about.

And then I do astrology readings, which makes me feel both connected and depleted at the same time. I don’t charge for them, because it is easier that way.  I learn a lot from looking at people’s charts and I enjoy it. If I turned this into a business, it would limit the number of charts I could see. Nonetheless this creates a void situation. Psychic energy going out, psychic energy not coming back in.

It feels like my whole life is a void, one that I must fill with my own energy. But sometimes this becomes exhausting and I don’t want to entertain myself anymore. I want the world to take me for a ride.

So, as usual, I have devised an impractical solution. Unless you have a lot of patience, you should probably stop reading now, since this may be difficult to explain…

Basically, I don’t believe all humans live in the same reality. In the USA, we believe we are living in a scientific world, and things generally appear that way. But that is not how all humans experience things.

The different realities a human can inhabit correspond to the different climates and ecosystems of the earth. For example, as you move closer to the equator and heat increases, the objective grid of reality starts to melt. Scientific laws become more mutable.

Likewise, in places with dense plant life, more energy starts to come in from an alternate reality which I call “the other world” for lack of anything better to call it. This ‘other world’ is not a scientific one, but more closely adheres to the laws of dreams & imagination. Anything conceivable can be.

Water and humidity also create a more fluid and malleable reality than dryness. Hence, why our Judeo-Christian religions- in which spirituality depends upon restraint and holding fixed beliefs- come from the desert.

Therefore, in a tropical rainforest, science is at its weakest and magic at its strongest. In a northern climate (less sun, drier air, sparser plant life) rationality is at its zenith.

Higher powers, of course, can still come into play in Northern climates, but they will play by the rules, maintaining the perception that a person lives within a  fixed objective reality and not a swirling dreamlike one.

None of this means that location determines reality. Humans learn from nature for the purpose of re-sculpting it. Ecosystems are patterns. A northerner who felt their soul was dying could emulate the patterns of the south. A southerner who felt their brain was melting could emulate the patterns of the north. (Generally, northern patterns suppress the heart and enliven the brain, while southern patterns do the reverse.)

So, back to my own life. I am going to try to bring in more energy from the South- the tropical rainforest to be exact. Because in a rainforest, there are no voids.  Voids belong to the north and to deserts. In the rainforest, energy is so plentiful, you are constantly beating it back with a stick.

But why am I even sharing this with you- my faceless, invisible readers? Normally, I prefer to keep my inner world safely hidden. But this is yet another experiment I am trying. I am going to imagine you, reader, as a wise and loving friend, someone who truly understands me. Perhaps I will pretend your name is Brad.*  You are a perceptive and open-minded man with intense interest in everything I have to say. I love you, Brad.

* I might rethink that name. We will see.

Slippers & nature. Two forever friends. Plus, a very strained smile since we are so near the edge of a cliff, and Slippers loves to pull and is way stronger than me.
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love Uncategorized

Man of the Earth

Do you ever feel like everything you say is completely wrong? I do. Not that there is something particularly wrong about it, but just that the whole realm of my thought & feeling is off.

I am hoping I can take some time away from both reading and human civilization for a while, living a life of manual labor, so I can clear my head and try to realign it with something more real. It is hard for me to do manual labor, though, because I have been brainwashed to feel that it is a waste of time. If I spend too much time on it, I feel guilty. That is just social pressure, though. My personal feelings are that manual labor is where its at.

Like, I would think, for example, that being a housekeeper would be much richer than working in an office. All the smells, textures, colors… creating  a world that is your own and getting to change it at will! How much more intelligent would you be if your didn’t spend your days eating other people’s ideas and vomiting them back up? Ideas that pass from human to human quickly become toxic. Our real ideas come from nature. And in manual labor, it is nature we are interacting with.

You can’t clean a cast iron pot without taking some of the knowledge of iron into yourself. You can’t bake a loaf of cornbread without absorbing a touch of corn’s power- the ability to be evil when evil is called for.* Cotton, wood, metal, plant, clay and fruit… all of it loaded with wisdom and new worlds… all of this loaded into our minds through contact with our hands, making us feel renewed. Inspired.

And yet, the social pressures I feel are always to do something dumb- such as read the “classics” of literature. Some of which are okay- mostly the ones written for children, I think, and the ones written by those who aren’t writers. But most are just belabored retchings of unoriginal ideas, filled with human waste, created only to impress.**

But I guess I don’t need to pit books & manual labor against each other. There is no reason you can’t do both, if you are the pretentious sort. But still, my ideal will always be the illiterate savage, the man of the earth. This isn’t a rebellion against intelligence, as some like to say, just a different idea of where intelligence comes from.

One scholar and one man of the earth take a walk in the park.

*To learn more about my feelings for corn, see herehere .

**I don’t mean to seem completely anti-scholar. I do think scholars have their place and am 20% scholar myself.

 

 

 

 

Categories
Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Plants and the Emerald Kingdom

I am Nature

 

 

Rose. She likes the feel of your nose.
She knows that everyone knows her, chose her, sigh.
Brown. You like the feel of the ground.
To feel it blow all around you, down you, sigh.

Don’t let me slip through.
Don’t let me walk invisible by.
I am Nature; I get you high.

Green. Too many places unseen.
Too many footsteps behind you, bind you, why?
Stray. Seek everything far away.
Don’t let nobody scold you, mold you, try.

Don’t let me slip through.
Don’t let me walk invisible by.
I am Nature; I get you high.

Burn. Too many pages to learn.
Too many pages to follow, swallow, sigh.
Strive. You always fought to survive.
You always fought them to conquest, multiply.

Don’t let me slip through.
Don’t let me walk invisible by.
I am Nature; I get you high.

 

MP3 (Free): I Am Nature

Categories
Hurricane, West Virginia

Home

Yesterday I watched an episode of MacGyver, and it convinced me that I simply have to become more practical if I am to survive, much less thrive, on this planet. I have to become a female MacGyver, or at the very least, work my way out of the “special needs” category.  This isn’t the first time I’ve had this notion, but I always get so overwhelmed by the vast number of skills you need to be even a person of average practicality, that I quickly give up in despair, and decide that, if something ever happens to James I will just have to be content living out my days in a mental institution. Until today, when it occurred to me that I could simply divide all practical skills up into a number of categories and try to tackle one category at a time. So, for this month, I am attempting to become better at housekeeping.
Baby Snuffles in Basket with Tea Towel
One thing I was admiring about MacGyver, was how- after climbing a mountain and knocking an Asian soldier unconscious- he immediately picked up the soldier’s coffee cup and finished off its contents. Later in the show, he found some Hershey’s chocolate bars on the floor of a recently exploded building that was filling with poisonous gas, and picked one up and started eating it. It made me realize that you just can’t be squeamish if you want to play at MacGyver’s level.  But in my case, excessive squeamishness has definitely been a practicality inhibitor. So, I am going to make sure that in housekeeping, I especially embrace the tasks I would normally hand off to someone else, such as cleaning the toilets, taking out the trash, and cleaning the vacuum filter. (Maybe I should even have a sandwich afterwards without washing my hands!) I have long speculated that there may be a correlation between personal power and how willing a person is to get their hands dirty.

So, this housekeeping focus has got me thinking about all the things that turn a house into a home. I tend to think of homes as being very large people, and just like us, their lives depend on a wide variety of organs, systems, and substances in order to live. Without the necessary components, they are simply large bodies that neither live nor breathe. I think many houses nowadays never quite make it all the way to becoming homes, because a mobile, career-centered lifestyle focused on sophistication and refinement tends to lack many of the earthly elements that bring a house to life. In fact, I had been planning to let my current apartment remain an empty-ish white box, to decrease the hassle of moving when we eventually relocate. But I’m not sure it is even safe for humans to live in white boxes, at least not over the long run. People think a lot about the nutrition that comes from food, but I think an equal amount of our nutrition comes from our environment and the things that surround us.

And here are some of the things it seems to me that houses need in order to come to life:

1. Plantly things, like potted plants, unvarnished wood, natural wicker, or even some branches or wildflowers in a mason jar. Plants are the lungs of a room and enable it to breathe.

2. Pictures. Despite (or perhaps because of) having hundreds of drawings and paintings piled up in my home, I haven’t hung pictures on my walls in the longest time, but this is a big mistake! If windows are the eyes of a home, then pictures are a home’s imagination and it’s ability to dream.

3. Soft things, like blankets, pillows, towels, rugs, curtains, or even stuffed animals. These are a home’s soft arms that give you a much needed squeeze at the end of the day.

4. Hard, natural textures, like stone, brick, terra cotta, tile, and even porcelain and glass. These are the bones of a home. Have you ever noticed how bony people make it easily through the lean times and don’t lose their integrity during the fast times? Well, it is the same with homes.

5. Memories, if you are lucky enough to have any good ones. These can be any objects that connect you to happy times in the past, or meaningful relationships you have known. These are, of course, a home’s memory, and help to keep it warm and stable.

6. Gold. Touches of gold, perhaps unvarnished brass or gold leaf, are like a home’s halo. They connect a home to God the Father and remind us that good will eventually triumph.

7. Handmade items and crafts of all sorts are the hands of a home. They remind the home to engage in life fully and not be weighed down by perfectionism and inhibitions..

8. Food. Probably the most important facet of all, cooking and eating are truly the heart and life blood of a home. The fire, the bubbles, the clinks, the smells and the vapors. The forks and plates and crumbs. These are the things which, above all else, seem to bring a home to life.

 

Categories
Dusty Stables Los Angeles Music & Songs

Shy


Julien in blue studio with bandana, mirror, and paintings. Self-portrait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This was the first song I performed publicly. I had just started playing guitar and writing songs a week earlier, so even under ideal circumstances it was a struggle to get through a song. Still, I was under so much pressure regarding what I was doing with my life, that I didn’t feel I could afford to wait any longer before beginning my new career. But I had no idea how nerve-wracking performing before an audience could be. I especially didn’t realize that nerves could cause my arms and legs to jerk around in large spastic movements completely beyond my control.

So, my “performance” was pretty much a  complete disaster, and when you throw in my painter’s overalls, gigantic pink checkered shirt, and tiny half-sized child’s guitar, the whole scene must have looked strangely pathetic. Still, people loved me, because there is nothing better than watching someone convulse uncontrollably on stage. No amount of skill and professionalism can match the thrill of watching nature have it’s way with a person despite their best attempts to stop it.

 

Download MP3: Shy