Audrey Hepburn, Bugeyed

 

Audrey Hepburn, Bug-eyed, Bobble Headed Buffoon

 with Princess Fou Fou

 

Without doubt, the all time, most elegant woman who ever lived is Audrey Hepburn. Because of her position on top of the admiration pyramid, I could not resist messing with her face.  Because of her sacred position in the Follywood pantheon, I could not resist making fun with her legendary image.

 

 The work started with a portrait of Audrey, which I had created, maybe a year ago? A beautiful, digital gamin face.  I thought,"What else can I do with this?"  I put it in the liquefy function of Photoshop and enlarged the eyes. BUG-eyed.  Delighted, I thought, "Wow! This is a fresh salad." 

 

"What next?" I snickered?  Browsing my picture documents, a fun thought tickled my brain.  Enough, already.  Audrey has been gracefully bedecked in couture for long enough.  Now, let her be a buffoon.  While giggling, I sewed her head to a clown body.  "Bobble headed!" I exclaimed, and made it happen, I blew up her head.

 

 

 I went with the circus clown theme, using element files from my documents.  This is one of the coolest things about Photoshop, I have painted a collection of characters, elements, environments, backgrounds, and special effects, all stored in my documents, all waiting in the sidelines until they can star in another picture.     

 

The outrageously clashing Princess Fou Fou, is patterned after, who else, the real Princess Fou Fou, who keeps me quiet, sweet company at this moment, laying on the deer skin rug that Mr. T made.  Her Majisty barks at thunder.  Awfully raucous, what with all the thunderstorms that pass through.  This adorable ball of fuzz will chase a storm.  She charges lightening with her most ferocious threats.  I say,  "Fou Fou, that is God that you are challenging.  Are you crazy?"  She doesn't listen to me. Also, I told her to go to the spa and get the tangles worked out of her hair, but, she still didn't listen. 

 

The floor of the circus is adapted from another world famous icon,  the rose window of Notre Dame in Paris.  I hope that Fou Fou does not poop on this sacred mandala. 

 

This is how I amuse myself.  It came together, and made me smile, this lightly sacrilegious tossed salad. 

 

Kitten Cherub and Rosie are performing their flying act.  Amusing.  Light and fluffy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phoenix Dance

Phoenix Dance

 

 

Phoenix Dance

 The Persistence of Symbols of Rebirth 

 

 

 Phoenix is the comeback kid of mythology.  Phoenix is the rebirth and resurrection bird of persistent worship.  She lives a thousand years, for a thousand years she soars and sails, she surfs, on streams of cool clear air.  After an eon of living, her clock runs down, and then she fulfills her destiny to crash and burn.  From the purification of fire, from the ashes of her own autocremation the Phoenix is reborn to soar another thousand years. 

 

Lets face it y'all, life is hard.  Sometimes it seems that all is lost. Failure and exhaustion, are universally a part of human existence. It is a wheel, a roller coaster, an enlightening adventure. Success and joy, failure and defeat.

 

The wheel of Fortuna turns round and round.  We go up and we go down. We all know, there will be change, sunshine; before a driving rain. Light and dark, day and night, Our spirit, engaged will take a flight.

 

When we crash and burn,  we NEED to see the phoenix at the end of the tunnel. Hope keeps us going.  Hope is the sperm of rebirth.  DNA is in the egg and the egg is in the DNA. 

 

At the bottom swing on the wheel of Fortuna cycle, we may be crushed or we may tap into rebirth.  Mind, body and spirit are resurrected with the will to soar.  The ashes of defeat contain the diamonds of a comeback. 

 

 Phoenix analogies, regeneration myths are found in all cultures, world wide.  Universally cosmologies offer a resurrection from the ashes of failure story.  Russians, Native Americans, Turks, Pacific Islanders, Tibetans and Japanese offer regeneration mythologies.  The crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus also mines the human need for reinvention. 

 

The emblem of the Phoenix has been used frequently in  literature and movies.  Ex: " Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix."  Drug rehab facilities are named Phoenix, because even Lindsey Lohan may grab the reins of the marvelous Phoenix and rise to a pristine palace of potential.  Technologies and rockets are named for the bird of rebirth.  The rocket is in our soul, keep hope.

 

Universally throughout history, there is a cavernous human longing for the hope of rebirth.  The persistence of resurrection myths demonstrate the persistence of the human need for a comeback.

 

The Making of Phoenix Flying Dance

 

I finished this digital image today.  I am excited to see how the print will turn out.  I would like to further develop the image into an oil painting. I can not promise you that this will be created, because I have a lot of images in the pipeline.  Paintings are circling in my head like helicopters over Louis Armstrong airport after Katrina.  (Yea, I know, I used this metaphor already, but I like it enough for repetition.)

 

For reference, I harvested the ballet dancer image from the web.  In the tossing of the dancer image from web site to search engine, and all around the world, for forty times or more, the name of the exquisite dancer and the name of the master photographer, who captured her flying leap, frozen gracefully for all time in midair, have been, regretfully, lost.  Thus, it is called an orphan image.

 

 I changed the low rez web picture digitally. It has been totally painted in Photoshop.  Colors, lines, shapes, all have been interpreted.  If anyone can supply me with the names of the artists who created the image, I will be grateful to know and publish the contributors names. If the artists object to the mess that I have made of their beautiful creation, then I will destroy the pictures. 

 

Nothing is created in a vacuum.  Artists do not just pull a full blown creation out of the isolated personal cerebrosphere.  Inspiration comes from imagination, from experience, from nature, and especially from the creations of other artists.  Each artist interprets, creates, art from the soup of all that is.  There is a current of development flowing through all work. Artist have been borrowing from each other since the second fertility goddess was carved with stone from stone. And, there is persistent cross fertilization between the various artistic disciplines.  How blessed we are, to be able to stand on the shoulders of giants. 

 

Before digital painting, before web images, I scoured galleries, art museums, and books, with hungry eyes.  I now delight in the banquet of beauty and inspiration that I find so easily on my computer.  (But will never replace the nirvana of seeing an actual paint and canvas masterpiece.)  Artistic options, like the options of most other endeavors, have been expanded by the flickering pixils museum in a box.  Just as the new technology of photography fired the imagination of the impressionists, giving them the theory of broken light/broken color, in the latter decades of the 1800's, current technologies fire the creative edge of art today. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



BEST FRIEND CHANNEL, Quality programming for dogs.

 

 

BEST FRIEND CHANNEL

Turn on the Best Friend Channel for your best friend

 

 

 

Introducing the most innovative video programming to explode the aerowaves since forever.  The Best Friend Channel will upgrade your world to fantabulous!

 

We understand.  It is heartbreaking to leave your beloved doggie alone when you must go shopping.  You worry and worry, that he will be sad and lonely. 

 

STOP WORRYING!

 

Turn on the Best Friend Channel for your best friend!  Your beloved pet will find instant friends!  Soon you will notice that Prince is happier, more perky.  No more mopping around.  A more cheerful dog is not the only benefit for you and your BFF.  The BEST FRIEND CHANNAL will not only entertain Pierre, it will also stimulate exercise and educate your dog. 

 

You heard right folks.  This paradigm busting programming will amaze you with cunning canine benefits.  Dogs are people too.  For too long their needs have been ignored by the aerowave world.  Finally, programming primarily for dogs, that she can watch alone or with you, her ever faithful human, by her side. 

BEST FRIEND CHANNEL, INNOVATIVE PROGRAMMING FOR DOGGIES

• YODA FOR DOGGIES  

•  Starring Angelina and Brad Pittbull  who will guide Lassie in certified YODA exercises.  Gentle stretch and balance moves will teach your pet poise and improve his health.     

• The program closes with five minutes of YODA MEDITATION.  Meditation is important for stress relief.  Stress relief is especially important for the ADD K9.

 

• Joggie-O-Lean 

• The Joggie-O-Lean  award winning program and the Joggie-O-Lean,  aerobic canine trampoline will get your dog off of the couch and jumping up and down.  

• Starring Queen Victoria and King Henry, highly acclaimed, certified, sanitized and verified Joggie-O-Lean instructors. Victoria and Henry, the reigning royals of Bonerama will bring your BFF up to peak, well buffed condition. 

• Joggie-O-Lean  is a breakthrough dog trampoline product designed to maintain Blue's health.  The Joggie-O-Lean trampoline, and exercise stratostars Queen Victoria and King Henry BFC Joggie-O-Lean instructors will motivate doggie to bounce, jiggle and wiggle her way to strong lean muscles.   

 

• Job Training for Fido

• The incomparable, the fabulous, stratospheric star, PRINCESS FOU FOU headlines this program that is guaranteed to make your fabulous life even more fantastically fabulous.

•  Dogs are people too.  They need to feel useful, to contribute to the common good.  PRINCESS FOU FOU will teach your BFF to retrieve your phone and remote!  Amazing! 

• You search and you search for your phone and remote.  You feel frustrated. Your last nerve is to the breaking point. All you really want to do is flop on the couch after a grueling day of shopping, but you cant find your most important toys.  After PRINCESS FOU FOU instructs poochie your frustration will be over.  Imagine your beloved BFF proudly bringing your most important toy tools to you while you languish lavishly on the loveseat. 

 

 

• Good News for Investors

• The bad news is that the BEST FRIEND CHANNEL is just a delusional dream, and a collection of cool advertisements, at this point in time.  The good news is that YOU can be a founding investor.  YOU can multiply your money a million times over.  Think about it.  A completely new concept in aerowave programming.  Get in on the ground floor, YOU can make it happen.  For only $10,000 for a Basic Investor fee or $1,000,000 for a Platinum Investor level you can participate in the most exciting canine advance since the cave ages.  And, there's more!!! You will be helping dogs to be healthy in body, mind and spirit.  You will help human partners to be worry free, when they are away.  Don't delay, the Investor ops are limited, and they are going fast.  Act today. Just send a check to my address.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Interstellar Chicks

Interstellar Chicks

New picture

 

 

I just remembered another principle that I Believe In.  That makes three principles.

 

 

Dear Janet,  

 

Now listen, you must stay away from belief statements and politics.  And do not write about family.  No, it is OK to write about family.  Just say that we are all loving and harmonious. And successful. Which is at least partly true.  Listen, Janet, this is a blog,  millions of people have access to reading this.  So don't be stupid, stay away from religion, politics and true confessions.  Think about it,  it is not like you are an expert on these subjects. Just write about the painting process and your garden.  You have plenty of material.  Oh, and no sex.

 

 

Yours truly,

The Voice of Reason

 

 

I just remembered another principle that I Believe In.  That makes three principles.  The first two are compassion and gratitude.   

 

I believe in praying or meditating.  I pray to the Goddess,  because the concept of a female deity is much more acceptable to me than a God.  He is a god of revenge.  Punishment. (John Wayne playing Moses).  She is the ideal mother.  Unconditional love. Every person's beliefs are just intellectual concepts.  Picked up, for better or worse, when we are children.  Or, preached by charismatic thumpers who may or may not have our best interest at heart.  Or, maybe arrived at through convoluted thinking.

 

I refer to Wikipedia again:

 

Religion is an organized collection of belief systems, cultural systems, and world views that relate humanity to spirituality and, sometimes, to moral values.^{[note 1]} Many religions have narratives, symbols, traditions and sacred histories that are intended to give meaning to life or to explain the origin of life or the Universe. From their ideas about the cosmos and human nature, they tend to derive morality, ethics, religious laws or a preferred lifestyle. According to some estimates, there are roughly 4,200 religions in the world.^[1]
Many religions may have organized behaviors, clergy, a definition of what constitutes adherence or membership, holy places, and scriptures. The practice of a religion may also include rituals, sermons, commemoration or veneration of a deity, gods or goddesses, sacrifices, festivals, feasts, trance, initiations, funerary services, matrimonial services, meditation, prayer, music, art, dance, public service or other aspects of human culture. Religions may also contain mythology.^[2



So, if there are 4,200 religions in the world, and only one is right??; then, what are the odds that I will pick the right one?  That I would even hear about the right one?

Formal religions are supported by a collection of words related to concepts.  At best they are a weak representation of the unknowable. The words are about the experience of spirit, which is beyond human intellectual comprehension. We can not verbally express  the mysterious vastness of being.  Given grace, we may experience spirit.  If we want to write words about the experience, then, much will be lost in translation. 

I asked myself.  What beliefs will make me feel better?  Contribute to my life in a sustaining manner?  What do I personally believe is good?  Have you ever asked yourself truly, "What do I believe?"  It is a long and winding road to sort out the values of your heart from what you have been told to believe.

I will share with you the prayer that I made up.  I thought of my favorite words.  I had been saying a Buddhist mantra, in Sanskrit words. I thought that words with meaning for me would work better.  I think this prayer repetitiously whenever I can remember to do so.  When a stupid song, that I do not want to hear, is playing on my brain radio, then I replace it with this prayer.  It calms me down from stress. Psychoneuro research has shown that the recitation of a mantra has physiological effects.  The calmness that the meditator feels is a mirror of chemical and electrical changes in the body.  I use this mantra whenever I am worried about safety.    Sometimes I find it running thru my inner radio automatically, replacing the monkey chatter channel that I usually hear. A simple mantra has many uses.  

 

Prayer Mantra of Favorite Words

I love the Goddess of
light, peace and harmony.

 

 

 

 

 

 



Stop in the Name of Love

Stop!  In the Name of Love

 

Stop! In the name of Love.

 

Before you break my heart,

 

before I break your heart,

 

before you break your heart,

before I break my heart.

 

Think it o-o-over.

 

 

 

The words here are a shameless paraphrase of a 1965 song, sung by Diana Ross and the Supremes, "Stop! In the name of love". Written and produced by Holland-Dozier-Holland.  Motown.  Oh Yea! Over the top fashion. Motown sound, take me away to jiggle dance town.

Guano Crazy

Skull Clown

Digital 2550X3330 pixils

 

 

 

 

 

GUANO CRAZY

 

 

 

You may or may not have noticed that I have that, rather epidemic, disease called Irony Disorder.  I do hope that you picked up on the irony, because other wise you might think that I am Guano Crazy.  I am rather off beat in the head, (a touch of ADD, Attention to a Different Drummer),  you know, just the normal confusion of living in an upside down culture.  Slightly demented but not Guano Crazy. You believe me, don't you?

 

There is normal crazy and Guano Crazy.  Guano is bat shit, it collects in the bottom of bat caves and makes excellent plant fertilizer.  I try to avoid the bat shit crazy people, because, crazy is contagious.  Having a few crazy as feces, work mates, neighbors, family members, and living in a social milieu of folks just hanging on by their fingernails,  means that I do have contact with rather high levels of psychosis.  When the stress level gets toxic, I get in my car, drive around and scream. I stay on roads that I know well, without too much traffic.  That is pretty effective, it lets off steam and in the car I will not disturb the neighbors.  I reserve the screaming for when I need to exhale some very unbalancing vibrations.  For just plain, I cant take it anymore crazy, I work in my garden.

Well, at some point I realized that I had to put up with some guano or I would be really lonely.  What is the point of being sane if you cant share it with anyone?  You believe me, don't you?  Mostly I am happy.  Positive thinking with a healthy sprinkle of denial helps.

The one thing that I really do believe in, the one principle that clarifies my mind, is the  practice of compassion.  I think too much and cant really pin down any other ideal.  Compassion says it all for me.  Simple but not easy.  If I find myself being judgmental, I think about all my stupid mistakes.  I have a more than few memories that put me right in my place.  That place not being very high on the well adjusted list. 

It is spring here in the Louisiana boonies, so far in the sticks that we pipe out sunshine.  I over ordered from the plant catalogue.  So, I must get dirty almost every day, to get seeds and baby plants  in the ground before it gets too warm. My garden is where I feel most peaceful. 

Oh, wait, I remembered another principle that I Believe In.  That makes two principles.  I try to practice gratitude.  I do have so many things and people who make me thankful.

 

 



 

 

Elvis, Hoss Head

Digital painting

 

 

 

Elvis Hoss

Digital painting, revisited

 

 

Is There Sex After Death?

There is sex in heaven.  I know that it is true, because I saw it on television.  It was a beautiful documentary with butterflies and flowers, or maybe it was a drama. 

Also, in case you missed it, the Weather Channel, TWC, said that the apocalypse is coming, so I went out and bought a gun. 

 



Gotta go,  I haven't watched my programing programs yet today.

Victory

 

Two Riffs on Winged Victory of Samothrace

Recent digital paintings



Victory!  Victory! Winged Victory makes visible the elation of overcoming obstacles.

The beautiful statue of Victory of Samothrace celebrating the Greek Goddess Nike, is justifiably one of the most recognized and admired art works in the world.  In the Louvre she is stunningly placed on a majestic marble stair landing. She can be worshipped from a distance, from below and from above. Look at the movement of her.  Stone made into ideal flesh and blood.  An emotional epiphany.  She is both gliding, flying and at the same time grounded.  I am grateful to be able to compose a riff of this beauty.  It is a pleasure to study her masterful drapery, and her body language. Spending time, painting her, stimulated my mind to contemplate the delicious promise of victory.

 

Victoire de Samothrace

Photograph of the stature in the Louvre

 



 

Belushi Bacchus

Oil on canvas, 36"x48", 3/13/2013

 

 

 

 

 Belushi in Paradise

 

John Belushi does not live here anymore.  He moved to Heaven on March 5, 1982.  He enjoys Paradise better than Earth, but at times, he misses the sweet exciting static of Saturday Night Live.  John's special powers are his mesmerizing dancing moves and the ability to zapp his enemies with humor until they fall down in helpless hysterics. 


All the Gods and Goddesses from all times and localities live together harmoniously in Paradise.  All live peacefully except for the gods of war.  Tlaloc, Athena, Muhammad and Jehova and their ilk find many enemies with which to tangle. The Holy Spirit, Zeus in the position of CEO of Heaven, commanded that the warriors are only to war with willing participants.  "Leave the peaceniks alone".  Also the warring area is restricted to the Jousting Arena.  No trees, art museums or other environments will suffer from the devastation.  War in Heaven is in one significant aspect different from war on Earth.  No one dies.  That's right folks!  No grieving moms, widows or orphans left behind.

The Greek god of wine, Dionysus lived many hedonistic years on Elysian Fields Avenue.  After about two thousand years of burning the candle at both ends, he outgrew self indulgent behavior. He made an afterlife change and began a rigorous meditation retreat with Sidhartha Guatama Buddha. The pantheon position of  Holy Wild Liberator was left vacant.  John was ecstatic when Zeus elected him to the position. John took the Roman name, Bacchus. 

You can see that Belushi has been buffing up at the Olympus Health Club.  Elvis, looking very fit himself, is his trainer. Elvis, as the manifestation of the Hindu God, Hayagriva, looks more handsome than ever with a horses head.  His sexy snarl and molasses voice have not changed.

 John is in training for another Mission from God.  The Holy Spirit has commanded this mission:  Bacchus shall refrain from meddling in human affairs for most of the year.  He is allowed to incite hedonistic behavior only for Mardi Gras, and maybe important birthdays and maybe big celebrations.  Bacchanalias are to be restricted primarily to holiday bashes.

 Humans need to be goal oriented and guard their chi most of the year, so they should worship Demeter, whose powers are, giver of food,  mother goddess, nurse, moral justice, and legislator.  She presides over sacred law and occasionally enacts divine retribution. Hmm, divine retribution, that means if you are really bad she will get you.  Don't piss off  Demeter.

The Holy Spirit named these new behavioral guidelines, "The Balanced Life".  He encourages humans to express their orderly, socially responsible side, and only occasionally let their wild side out of the basement.  

This picture has captured Belushi Bacchus one evening just as the party is just starting to roll.  He is tweeting, "Hot blooded humans invited now to the Burning Ends Festival.  6969 Desire Street, NOLA."  Phrasing his invitation in euphemistic code so that only the cogniti  understand.

Painting the Picture

 

This image has been my friend for more than a year now, giving me plenty of time to think about what it represents.  Deities may be seen to represent certain human needs, desires.  They are guiding stars.  The Greek deities are known for bad behavior.  Bad God, bad God.  (Isn't the similarity between dog and god funny?)  Zeus and Venus are known for their erotic episodes.  Zeus raped Leda.  Cronus ate his children. They meddle in human affairs and cause chaos.  Greek gods, along with most all gods, encourage war,  they order their humans to kill the infidels.  In most wars both antagonists claim to have god on their side. 

 

Note to self: focus, focus.

 

This picture started as a digital image.  I used Caravaggio's masterpiece as a model.  It is a humbling activity to redo a classical painting. Trying to paint after a master artist makes me aware of my limited skills.  But the act of copying parts of the masterpiece challenges me to improve.  Redoing a classical picture is like a performer singing, reinterpreting an old, much beloved song.  I make an interpretation of an ever popular picture.  So much classicalism is relevant today, some basic human attributes do not change.  To make the painting "now", I add current props.  I doubt that Carravagio ate bananas (are they from South America, which was not yet exporting to Europe at the close of the fifteen hundreds) .  The banana is a Warhol reference.  Parts of the drapery reminded me of O'Keefe. 

 

Speaking of Bacchus, Wikipedia says,  He is also the Liberator (Eleutherios), whose wine, music and ecstatic dance frees his followers from self-conscious fear and care, and subverts the oppressive restraints of the powerful

In Freud speak Bacchus is lord over the id.

 

I began the oil on canvas painting about six weeks ago. To begin,  I printed out references,  my digital Bacchus, Caravaggio's masterpiece, pictures of John Belushi, and some chest shots of hunky males. The canvas was preprimed and stretched.  I sketched in the major lines with conte crayon.  I did the first coat of paint with burnt sienna acrylic paint.  Switching to oils, the color was deepened and blended (which is a specialty of oil) and I painted details.  Belushi's chest hair was styled by Dancing Brush. Some areas got pattern rather than realism. In a few spots I used the tiny sable brush.  I photographed the canvas and put it back in photoshop.  I touched up the photo, because I am not such a good photographer. I rock with photoshop.  The oil paint is drying now.  I want to change some things, but, at some point the work must be abandoned.

 



 

Kindred Spirit

 

 

 

 Circus of the Moon

Digital Painting, completed about a year ago

 

 

 

KINDRED SOUL WITH A THOUSAND EYES

On Monday, the first day of the work week, when I valiantly try to pull myself together, and when I try to organize confusion and rectify regression,  I phoned Hughes Net tech support.  We had been unable to get on the internet, something wrong with the connection.  We were unable to find out the latest exciting adventures of Kim Kardashian and Paris Harlot.  We were unable to buy more stuff,  from the comfort of our own home. I think that there is a little space left where we can stuff more stuff in the closet.  We were loosing track of our Facebook friends, what were they having for lunch?  Did they take a picture of their shrimp and oyster po-boy?  This was serious, something must be done.  

After finding the Hughes phone number, dialing, navigating the labyrinth of which button to push, getting a real person to talk to,  validating that I am really myself, being transferred, validating that I am me, being transferred, and assuring that I am still myself (by this time I was beginning to wonder if my multiple personalities were acting up again), I connected with Gandhi on the phone.  Gandhi is not his real name, I am sorry to say that I did not catch his name, but we will call him this most honorable of names. 

As I followed his directions, Gandhi, in his beautiful voice, walked me, patiently,  through various computer maneuvers. I followed directions and was soon ready to test the internet connection.  As my phone partner and I waited for the home page to open, I asked him,  "Where are you?"

"India."
"I am in Louisiana" spoken with the imperialistic assumption that he knew where the disaster and corruption state is located.
"How is the weather there".
"We have had too much rain, but I think that the sun is coming out.  Early spring is here, the huckleberry is blooming".
"Do you like nature?", Gandhi questioned.
"Yes, nature is important, it feeds the soul.  OK, the home page has loaded".
"OK, now see if it can pull up a web page."
I think, click for a web page.  Then say, "I am pulling up Wikipedia."
"That is unusual, not many people use that site".
"Not everyone is curious". I laughed.
"Ahh," he paused, " my father taught me,  'A person is born with two eyes, but, if he is curious and if he reads, then he has a thousand eyes'".
I thought, I processed words until the concept dawned, "That is wonderful,  I want to tell my children about that".
"I told my daughter, but she didn't listen".
"Some things are the same, the world over".

Wikipedia loaded.  We rang off with sincere thank yous.  I felt a bit warmer and happier. I wished that I had caught his name. I thought about the distance between us, and the differences in our situations. I thought about our voices traveling thousands of miles instantaneously. It was a chance, ephemeral meeting of kindred souls.  I wished that I had asked him to pull up my blog. If he left a message, then we could continue the dialogue.  I wished that I had said, occasionally, maybe, I wish, you/I speak wisely, perhaps it will come back to the children, in a few years, when they are ready.  See, you remembered what your father said.

 Jagger Devil

 

 

 

 

 

Mick Jagger as the Devil

How convenient it must be to believe in the devil!  To have a locked closet in the dank basement of your brain, where you banish all that you think is wrong.  Deny that it has anything to do with you.  How satisfying it must be to package evil in an isolated box that you can hate in all your self righteous holiness.  Yes, what a good idea.  A great idea. What a concept, what a neatly organized system.  I think that I will believe in the devil. I believe!  Eureka!  My mind is so uncluttered.  The confusion has lifted.  Hallelujah!

 

 

 

 

 



 



Idealist

Enlightenment

As I look and move on the Earth, I see beauty in nature.  Coming forward is the idiosyncratic Zen nun version of my being.  My eyes receive the gifts of strong trunked trees, filigree leaf patterns, dappled sunlight. My eyes are small, but my sight is large.

Idealist

An unrepentant idealist, I mingle with fellow humans, I receive my daily programing from the fear box. And I want to know, "Why are we so screwed up?".  Idealist, that I am.  Seeing potential for productive, creative existence on Earth.  Longing for peace and harmony.  I dare to wish for enduring happiness. What could we accomplish if we were truly sane?  What if we cooperated?  What if we raised our children in safe harmonious communities?  What if we did not have to whore for the almighty dollar?

How much human labor actually contributes to the well being of people?  And how much labor is just miserable slavery?  How many of us are bean counters?  Why do we need so much insurance?  There are more bookkeepers than organic farmers.  Health insurance salesmen make more than the nurses that actually deliver the care. Well, I really dont want to get into an extended rant right now.

If we could focus on raising our children to fulfill their potential for the highest and best good of all, we would have a better world in only 20 years.

Call me an idealist.  Some will call me a fool.  Why waste my brainwaves on the impossible? 

I should turn on the TV, there is an acute need to update my programming.  I should go shopping.  Get a bunch of new stuff.  Max out the credit card.  Renew the stress of debt.  Then I will be willing to do whatever useless shit the boss master tells me to do.  Then will you call me a fool?

Little Ole Man

 

Little Ole Man

 

 

 Sourpuss

 

 Here sits the pensive child.  Two years old, he has been on Earth for 730 days. He suckled mothers milk, then was prodded to graduate to  cows milk in a cup.  Perhaps suckling is the most comforting of human activities.  Could it be that in his short life he has already lost the most satisfying gem of experience?  Did he find nirvana at his mother's breast?  He will have no memories of very early age, but may spend the rest of his life with nameless longing.

 

And before that, before the breast, floating the womb, what were his feelings?  Is it true as Otto Rank theorized that uterine life is blissful, that the pain of squeezing through the narrow vaginal cave is the original fall from grace?

 

The ground of the px is a tangle of twigs.  A map of life full of dead ends, cul de sacs, and proceeding the wrong way on a one way street.

 

Over his right shoulder levitates the cherubic Balloon Girl.  Yes, there it is, love and joy, awaiting the right time, the right action, the right person, the right mental attitude, and a lot of luck.

 

Woman Poem

The mouth of her womb

her pleasure center

is a bleeding wound.

 

Each of us entered Earth

through this door.



 

 

 

 

 The little Ole Man, seven hundred thirty days his handlers have molded his behavior. 

 

 Looking like a wise and discouraged old man.  Looking thoughtful, pensive.  How many lives has he lived on this twisted planet?

 

 

America the Beautiful

America the Beautiful

 

 

This picture is a visual metaphor for the unrecorded collateral damage caused to Americans by American war.  Bombs bursting in air.

In this picture, a cherubic brother and sister walk through a heavenly landscape.  Overhead insectoid helicopters threaten to spit death.  Usually, our death machines spray brown people.  Here we see blue eyed, blond children to illustrate that when America goes to war, we also damage ourselves. The unseen damage done to returning soldiers and their families can be as great as the war kill body count. Domino effect collateral damage is not factored into the official war losses.  Soldier suicide rates are high.  Who is counting the suicides that occur after discharge?  Widows and fatherless children suffer immeasurable damage.  Post traumatic stress disorder in soldiers emotionally cripples  the men for the rest of their lives and distresses their families.

This visual metaphor works for me and I hope that it works for you. 

I must thank the amazing British graffiti artist, Banksy for this inspiration.  Thanks Banksy!

I think that really civilized people would find ways to solve problems without resorting to barbaric war. 
 

The body count is only a small part of the expense of war.  Money is the smallest part of the expense.  Unrecorded collateral damage to the "American conquerors" is horrifying.    The domino effect of collateral damage, applies not only to the country that is invaded, but also to the invaders.

 

My hairdresser, Angelle, is a foster parent angel.  She took in a one year old baby, call him Sam.  Sam's father had been deployed to Iraq.  After his military service,  Daddy returned home with an intact body.  One week after discharge,  he blasted a terminal gunshot wound to his head.  Sam's Mommy, in hellish grief, turned to crack.  Using the drug she created for herself a hell on earth.  She found this drug hell preferable to the hell of grief over the senseless death of her husband.  Sam ended up in foster care.  His only stroke of luck was to get Angelle as his foster mother.  Sam was developmentally retarded, from sharing two levels of hell with his Mom.  It took months of Tender Loving Care from Angelle to help him trust again. 

 

Daddy did not show up in the body count.  Mommy was not counted.  Even with a good foster mother,  Sam will have emotional challenges that last his entire lifetime.  These tragedies do not show up on any balance sheet.  But, they are the heartbreaking domino effect, collateral damage cost of war. 

 

This is a clipping from Wikipedia:

       U.S. Army report indicates military veterans have double the suicide rate of non-veterans, and more active-duty soldiers are dying from suicide than in combat in the Iraq War (2003-2011) and War in Afghanistan (2001–present).^[11] Colonel Carl Castro, director of military operational medical research for the Army noted "there needs to be a cultural shift in the military to get people to focus more on mental health and fitness."^[12]

 

This bears repeating  "More active duty soldiers are dying from suicide than in combat in...current wars."  WHY? What does this mean?  Young men enter military service to patriotically fight for their country.  Next they commit suicide.  What happened?

 

Mental health?  Does the Colonel mean that you should have a good attitude to kill?  How does that work? 

 

I just do not get it!  Why do we have endless wars?  None of the answers make sense to me.  There must be another way.

 

Do we war for petroleum?  Disgusting reason.  Then let us stop all the caffeine fueled driving around in circles.  Do our cars run on blood?  The blood of murdered enemies?  The blood of our soldiers? The collateral damage blood?

 

They tell me that Saddam Husein had to be killed.  I don't get it.  How many lives did it cost?  Husein murdered his own people and raped the environment.  For nine years we murdered Iraq people and sent our sons to death and raped the environment.  Are we the good guys?

 

Then there is the argument that we must  show strength in order to scare off the bully countries.  Something like that.  How is it worded?  Is this true???  We out bully the bullies? Is that a sane intervention?  What about the tactic taught in good martial arts classes?  Just having the strength is enough, it is not necessary to use it.  We are not really civilized.  We are barbarians.  We are not very highly evolved.  Really civilized people work out their differences without resorting to violence. 

 

We patriotically protect our way of life, they say, that is why we bomb brown people.   But, we are over consumers, wasteful and arrogant and our children are spoiled.  We protect a way of life that uses resources like tissue paper.  Our homes are constipated with consumer goods produced by slave labor in third world countries.  Our greed knows no bounds. Should people die to support our gluttonous way of life?

 

Don't get me started on a rant.

There must be another way.

There are some good things about America.  Good people.  Beautiful scenery.  Free speech.  I am exercising my patriotic  right to free speech.  I love my country but hate war.

 

 

OK,  I must go now.  I am going shopping, even though I already have too much stuff.  I dare you to open my closet doors.  Don't forget to wear a helmet for protection when all the junk falls out.  I must have the very latest T-shirt and jeans. My old jeans are so last year.  I will max out my credit cards.  It is the American way.  I am a good patriotic consumer supporting the economy.  The debt that I incur will insure that I continue working my bull shit job, and continue contributing my stressed filled labor to the American way of life.    Wrong.  Ironic black humor.

 

America the Beautiful.  Where is it?  How does it work?  How can we make it better?