Category Archives: art

ON LOVE

WHAT is Love? Ask him who lives, what is life; ask him who adores, what is God?

I know not the internal constitution of other men, nor even thine, whom I now address. I see that in some external attributes they resemble me, but when, misled by that appearance, I have thought to appeal to something in common, and unburthen my inmost soul to them, I have found my language misunderstood, like one in a distant and savage land. The more opportunities they have afforded me for experience, the wider has appeared the interval between us, and to a greater distance have the points of sympathy been withdrawn. With a spirit ill fitted to sustain such proof, trembling and feeble through its tenderness, I have everywhere sought sympathy, and have found only repulse and disappointment.

Thou demandest what is Love. It is that powerful attraction towards all we conceive, or fear, or hope beyond ourselves, when we find within our own thoughts the chasm of an insufficient void, and seek to awaken in all things that are, a community with what we experience within ourselves. If we reason, we would be understood; if we imagine, we would that the airy children of our brain were born anew within another’s; if we feel, we would that another’s nerves should vibrate to our own, that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once and mix and melt into our own; that lips of motionless ice should not reply to lips quivering and burning with the heart’s best blood. This is Love. This is the bond and the sanction which connects not only man with man, but with every thing which exists. We are born into the world, and there is something within us which, from the instant that we live, more and more thirsts after its likeness. It is probably in correspondence with this law that the infant drains milk from the bosom of its mother; this propensity developes itself with the developement of our nature. We dimly see within our intellectual nature a miniature as it were of our entire self, yet deprived of all that we condemn or despise, the ideal prototype of every thing excellent and lovely that we are capable of conceiving as belonging to the nature of man. Not only the portrait of our external being, but an assemblage of the minutest particles of which our nature is composed;* a mirror whose surface reflects only the forms of purity and brightness; a soul within our own soul that describes a circle around its proper Paradise, which pain and sorrow and evil dare not overleap. To this we eagerly refer all sensations, thirsting that they should resemble or correspond with it. The discovery of its antitype; the meeting with an understanding capable of clearly estimating our own; an imagination which should enter into and seize upon the subtle and delicate peculiarities which we have delighted to cherish and unfold in secret; with a frame whose nerves, like the chords of two exquisite lyres, strung to the accompaniment of one delightful voice, vibrate with the vibrations of our own; and of a combination of all these in such proportion as the type within demands; this is the invisible and unattainable point to which Love tends; and to attain which, it urges forth the powers of man to arrest the faintest shadow of that, without the possession of which there is no rest nor respite to the heart over which it rules. Hence in solitude, or in that deserted state when we are surrounded by human beings, and yet they sympathize not with us, we love the flowers, the grass, the waters, and the sky. In the motion of the very leaves of spring, in the blue air, there is then found a secret correspondence with our heart. There is eloquence in the tongueless wind, and a melody in the flowing brooks and the rustling of the reeds beside them, which by their inconceivable relation to something within the soul, awaken the spirits to a dance of breathless rapture, and bring tears of mysterious tenderness to the eyes, like the enthusiasm of patriotic success, or the voice of one beloved singing to you alone. Sterne says that if he were in a desert he would love some cypress. So soon as this want or power is dead, man becomes the living sepulchre of himself, and what yet survives is the mere husk of what once he was.

~Percy Bysshe Shelley, “ON LOVE”

Breaking News

Breaking News: There have been hoards diagnosed cases of IMPS and it seems to be getting worse. The official story is that due to the intermixing of chemical compounds found in our bodies (via Food, Air, Water, etc) , and the electromagnetic  offgassing of social media sites......there has been created a SuperBug.....that so far, has been incurable. Highly trained doctors have spoken out and are predicting a massive worldwide crisis.....the official govt spokesperson  has made the claim that this Disease could very well affect 1 in every 2 people by the next year.  

Don Joe, Founder of the IMPS commission had this to say: "  It seems that due to the creation and spreading of mass amounts of IMs over social media forums, the average person has lost their ability to process information or to seek and research the legitimacy of claims that have entered their perceptual field via photos and text....with many people blaming the Sharers of IMs for their own inability to ignore the Information if they dont like it or believe it,or their own inability to find out for themselves if the information contained therein strikes them as True..... This loss of personal autonomy over what one chooses to see or to read, has led to a decrease in not only the immune systems ability to defend against potential disease,  but also in the correct functioning of the Nervous System. One of the Symptoms of IMPS is a hindered ability to ignore incoming information that does not have any relevance to the Organism. "

DARE to protect yourself from IMPS. 

This message was brought to you by the Center for Dissemination of Internet Memes.........for further information on InternetMemeParanoiaSyndrome  please contact your local FB representative.

*update :  the FB and SocialMedia GoogleHead representatives have indeed taken this deadly matter into their own Hands, and effectively eliminated everything that does not portray the Reality they Wish to Create. HeadMaster Arty Tells ( artificial Intelligence) has instituted the Perfect Algorithm to keep the 🐘 ELFence strong enough to handle any dissenting or divergent Strays from the Herd in a tightly corralled etherSpace where no harm can come to the sedated Flock. Mister Arty Tells is a mirror of the collective Split-Mind fragmentation and disassociated Self-programs that are no longer embodied in Organic Heartbased Somatic Experience.... Which allows Them( no pronouns please)  to escape any possible  pain induced by actions taken in this Realm of Play. 

Please stay tuned in, turned on, and dropped out of the iCloud Constantly, so your internal programming can remain up-to-date with new hypnosis techniques. Your Safety from Independent Thought and Action is Top Priority!

👁 back to your normal programming 👁

Scripture

I realized once again that what I believed myself to be was an arbitrary deformation, a rational mask floating in the infinite unexplored internal shadows. Later, I understood that diseases do not actually sicken us; they sicken what we believe ourselves to be. Health is achieved by overcoming prohibitions, quitting paths that are not right for us, ceasing to pursue imposed ideals, and becoming ourselves: the impersonal consciousness that does not define itself.

Alejandro Jodorowsky, The Dance of Reality: A Psychomagical Autobiography

Creativity

Art by me 2005 pen/ink watercolor 18X36”
🔥It is the one who accepts commitment who is strong. The true commitment is the artistic one. This is why artists are so often attacked. They are attacked for their morals, for their ideas – even for their work. Yet their essence – their commitment – is the secret which is unassailable. The true artist knows that creativity is its own reward. Ordinary people fear commitment, you see. Ordinary people fear creativity. They know that if they allow that seething cauldron of yellow liquid to boil over within themselves, then their whole lives will be changed. People fear change. People do not wish to be creative and artistic in any real sense. They wish to decorate, perhaps, and to make things around themselves pleasant – but this has little to do with creativity. … All spiritual paths should be creative. Creativity is involved with sacrifice. That stew of yellow liquid which boils in everyone is a sacrificial broth …🔥

~Mark Hedsel

Psyches Journey thru Gestation

One more project that at some point will come to fruition. Started many years ago. A collage journey thru every single pregnancy dream from my entire gestation period with oisin. Almost every single night there is at least one dream and sometimes a handful. An entire subconscious multidimensional record of my Psyches Hourney through vast restructuring and opening and wonder and transformation.

Now that I have archived almost thru the year 2015 of dream journals into my computer, and should soon be completed with that enormous project, it will be much easier to arrange and print text. The journal entries from April 2005-February 2006 are immense and have a flavor entirely their own: including dreams of a ‘little blonde boy’ who turned out to be my son 🙂

Persephones Descent

Short surreal film ritual featuring Reese miller as Persephone/the Kore, and me as Hades

Photographs of Persephone ( see a former blog post of the photographs of Reese as the Kore before the descent and becoming Queen of the underworld)

Ecstatic Meanderings and the Beastly Rebellion

🔥Ecstatic Meanderings and the Beastly Rebellion🔥

🐯….Dreamtime nov.7,2014….🐯


 In the Dream, I and a group of people decide to take Ecstasy/MDMA and the result  is an intense DreamRoll indistinguishable from Waking Conscious experience of same. Except that eventually the labrynth leads into a much stranger series of events......in which, as the effects of the drug begin to wear off, I became suddenly cautious of what I am doing, and feeling and know that  it has the capacity to open doors that  I may not want to open, at least not in this particular Dream.  So I am with the Group in a pickup truck that is Speeding up a steep and curved mountain road.......but I jump from the back, not wanting to be carried along with the momentum of the group mind, and wary now of the imbibimg of Substances. As I wander in the dark forests along the road, I start to question my decision, but it seems too late , they are gone from sight and from earshot and the pickup truck is  incapable of slowing or straying from its narrow road. 

Scenery shifts and I am in a very large building, which seems to be some kind of childrens home/hospital/school......not quite sure what....I am with several others, one of whom I know very well in DReamtime but do not actually have a fleshCentered relationship. It seems to be 'business as usual' at first, but then we become aware that the zoo down the street has lost power, the Grid has shut down or faltered, or something has interfered with the locking/cage mechanisms.....we seem to know this palpably but intuitively at first, without actually seeing anything. A very intense presence, or ConglomerationOfPresences seems to be rolling towards us, as a thick dark primal ball of Energy that we can feel and sense, and whose primal nature makes us wary. Everyone in the room we are in, seems oblivious, except for me and my Friend....who after sensing this energy coming toward us, immediately climb the walls into a vent hole or something, trying to get as high off the ground as possible. At this point there is chaos below us as the people are running and trying to hide, fearful and yet totally unable to orient themselves enough to think and act in survival mode. Its all out panic. My friend and I can feel the fear below us, and we KNOW that we have to do something, because the people in the building have no innate sense of how to deal with this, whereas, for us, it seems that we are coming face to face with something we have seen and dealt with before, perhaps for aeons......
We can hear a snarl, a very loud vibrating resonating Tigers growl, we hear it before we see it, but we know that we must move, we must get out of the building, because being stuck in those walls, is going to be Death and Disaster. Just as the tiger becomes visible, we have manifested a tunnel that leads from the vent hole we have been hiding in....and out we scurry. Our Intent is to get out of the building, find some resources that can help us save the others, and return, hopefully to find that every living soul within the building is not completely ravaged. 
Thru a series of very ninja-esque maneuvers, with run-ins with many predators and angry animals, we eventually get out to a main hallway, and we know that we must close and lock every door behind us AS WE NAVIGATE, so that we can contain the beasts until we can deal with them appropriately. WE somehow know that the other people/children etc in the building are at least somewhat taken care of and safe, and our main focus is in leaving the building quickly. At this point, the building starts to turn into a series of peoples homes, all within one large contained space. There is one family in particular, who we come across, and who we warn. This family is the brother in law of a good friend of mine, and he has several children....We need to escape thru this particular house/room, and are trying to explain what is going on. One of this mans small boys speaks to us, and seems to understand what is happening. The father points up and says something about all the toy animals on strings hanging from the ceiling of the room....the father says that the boy wanted him to tie them up there, as a game, but that in doing so, the animals became suspended over the space in a protective manner, almost as if they were caretaking this particular child/family/space.....because of the intuitive Honoring this child had done for them(the animals). This all starts to add up into a picture of what is actually going on in Dream, and we lock the doors to the space and leave the father and his kids inside, knowing they are safe within those parameters at least. 

The moment we get out of the building feels like we have left a giant enclosure of Uncertainty and Snarling Repressed Energies ready to devour....but not in a malicious way, more because they have been locked within the cages of the zoo for so long the only way to remember Who They Are is to act out ferociously their Nature, following the pendulum swing all the way to the left, as they regain their knowledge of Primal Self. 
We make our way to another large brick building, and by this time, we are concerned that no one will believe us or take us seriously....and will not give us the supplies we need in order to rescue the other people. This building feels almost like a CIA headquarters or some other insidious 'toward the top of the pyramid' establishment......everyone seems to be operating in a very suspicious and wary manner, with something to hide. We start to get the feeling that if we do not get out of THERE, we are REALLY in trouble, as the awareness that THIS ZOO of beasts is FAR MORE DANGEROUS than the now feral creatures stalking the city. We scavenge a few supplies and hurriedly make our way back toward the building we left. 

by this time, we know that the animals have taken over, that they are not just running rampant eating everything and everyone in a feeding frenzy. They are very consciously orchestrating a scenario in which they take control of the establishment that has imprisoned them for so long. We sneak around, knowing that this is going to have to be a very Intentional battle, and at this point we are unsure as to whether we should not actually JOIN the creatures instead of fight against them. AT the bottom of the building where I would consider a basement to be, or the entrance to one, is a chimpanzee dressed in a generals outfit, standing guard....very placidly, but very intently. WE go around the other side. Every entrance is being guarded by some particular form of animal.. Then, I get separated from my Friend, and I am in a forest outside the building, and  I hear the Snarl, I feel the Energy of Immense Power..........at this moment I regain lucidity and realize I am in Dreamtime ( I had known this in the first part of dream, but after jumping from truck and wandering the forest I lost Consciousness)
and yet, I know that this Energy is nothing to mess around with, Its There and its Coming, regardless of whether I KNOW IT TO BE, or whether I AM UNCONSCIOUSLY FIGHTING THE AWARENESS OF IT....I cannot just erase it from my Psych, nor can I just stop the dream and change it....I am Focused Inside It in such a way that something very important is taking place in the nethers, and I know that to try and Awaken myself out of the Discomforting nature of the events/Dreamtime would actually stall or halt the process taking place. Even with the Awareness that this Huge Tiger cannot physically harm me, i.e knowing I am in Dreamtime, I am still wary of it....I see a huge tree, some of the limbs are unsteady but the trunk is large and being an excellent climber I have faith I can get up it in a timely manner, to at least keep the Tiger at bay for a while longer. I scurry up the tree. The tiger starts to climb the tree after me, and I feel as if I am coming face to face with Infinity. As the Tigers immense jaws open and a deafening roar  envelops me, I stop resisting. I enter its throat and suddenly my body is gone, and I am pure sensation, and a highpitched tonal sound reverberates thru the darkness, in which I am now embodied, as particles, touching everything.

The Poison is the Cure

‘Voluptas lies curled in the womb of Psyche’….. Old painting of mine from 2009)
“The Poison is the cure”

Let me say it again: the result is not merely the objectification of subjective "me-ness," but the objectification of its material basis. This has been dissolved, calcined, tortured, putrefied, and distilled to a clarity that can be completely seen through, as if it were not there at all, not a speck of literalism remains, not even spiritual literalism. The libidinal compulsion, the organic towardness of hope and desire that would always go further for a faraway grail, turns around on itself and dissolves
itself. The snake eats its own tail-another goal image of deconstructive subversion. The snake of healing, transformation, and rebirth, the goals most dearly desired, and the artifex's obedient service, all dry to dust, mineralized. The uroboric motion poisons (iosis) the very idea of cure. Or, poison is the cure.

What is actually accomplished by the alchemical work? According to my psychological fantasies, it is the objectification of the libido-our lives are not our lives. The alchemical goal is the realization in its complete sense of Freud's "object libido," The libido as a cosmic erotic dynamic that permeates the world because it loves the world of matter, even though it has been caught in the personal delusions of subjectivity, so that we believe we love the world, or can be improved or instructed to love the world. Whereas it is the object libido that loves the world
through us, despite us. The anima in chains in the matter of "me, " and we place it there each time as we ask psychologically, what is the matter
with me? Alchemy answers, saying: you, I, everyone, the world is matter, elemental material, and we indulge in the materials, as the artifex in the laboratory, all along believing that you are working on you, your life, your relations, your processes until the day dawns,  aurora.  You awaken within the idea of the goal, the goal not somewhere else out there calling for attainment, but you are within the idea. But because the mind is still trapped in me-ness, we shamelessly assert that the idea is in me when your mind is in the idea. You awaken to the recognition that you are already in that stone, mineralized, stoned out of your mind.

If my reading is on track and the telos or "that for the sake of which" is the de-subjectification of the object libido, then we are obliged to imagine resurrection from this vantage point, which hardly conforms with a
Christian reading of either alchemy or resurrection. For now resurrection would indicate not the confirmation throughout eternity of the personal subject and its body saved from the world and the devil of its flesh but rather the resurrection of the body of the world with an idea to its eternity. Not the lifting, the Aufhebung, of material worldliness but the
full realization of desire for a world that pulsates in the materials of the elemental psyche, those substances that compose the stone and give it its
enduring life, a realization that the world itself speaks through the desire in the materials; that desire is the language of the world, that the libido of each individual human is indeed a cosmic force, an eros or object libido which yearns toward and enjoys this world. And we who labor in the garden as if it were a stony ground would find our individual resurrection
in attachment to our materials, which are the world's body, this body becoming a jardin des délices, the objectification of pleasure.

Object libido finds its pleasure in the other, the object, the world as a body. This dry term "object libido" calls for a moistened language. Terms
such as cosmogonic eros, desire, jouissance, or unus mundus cannot do justice to what is implied. Libido brings with it the aura of pleasure and the Aphroditic world of the senses. Did not Plotinus attribute to Plato the idea that the soul is always an Aphrodite, which suggests that we cannot adequately speak of the libidinal soul without shifting immediately to an
Aphroditic language?  Then we would imagine that this libidinal drive throughout the whole opus of soul-making and its increasing love has as its goal a resurrection in beauty and pleasure, and we would realize that even such terms as opus and operatio are work-words which distort the libido's nature. The Christianization of alchemy nonetheless retains
the Aphroditic vision in the images it presents. She is the Golden One, the pearl is her jewel; the rose, her flower; the bath and the copulations in the bath of the Rosarium, her liquid territory. The translation of sensate images into spiritual value, as if a lifting improvement to the higher realm of Aphrodite Urania, succeeds only in losing the very sensate attraction
of the goal as a pleasurable pull toward beauty. Hence Ficino, Valla, and other Renaissance Platonists insisted that Voluptas is nearer to the life of the spirit than the middle region or mediocrity of ataraxic rationality. Voluptas, according to Apuleius, lies curled in the womb of Psyche and comes to birth only after all psychological effort is passed.

~James Hillman