Who Do Their Work In Darkness

Unfaced fear becomes toxic.

“I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the riverbed, nothing between me and the white fire of the stars but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths among the branches of the perfect trees. All night I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects, and the birds who do their work in the darkness. All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times into something better“. – Mary Oliver

Everyone should experience the medicine of getting what you know you need and knowing, at that very time, you know that you are getting medicine and you feel your soul knitted up. You feel whole. Pink zig-zags of hope and love come out of and into your heart, fueled by blue and turquoise colored air. Everyone has to have experienced that, right? How can you not want that for other people? Because you’re in so much pain, and you have been for so long.

“At some point, we realize that time itself won’t make us wise”

We can’t know another’s pain fully. We can’t know another person’s much of anything. But empathy is not weakness. It is strength, and in certain persons it becomes a kind of intellectual genius though it roots from a Feeling source. We are each and all of us having separate experiences, and for only brevities of time are we able to enjoy each other fully, or feel each other wholly through some kind of mystical understanding. In that, either harmony or pure resonance, do we love each other for that singular moment because we connect and know ourselves to be As One and all one – in that moment. Empathy is what weakens your adversary.

Just ink, awaiting refinement, development or who knows?

THURSDAY 10/22 Being human means having the agency to change.

It’s been a good day. I am overstaying my break from housekeeping, however, by eating a light lunch and enjoying the web. Today I am working on: to dust all the things on my shelf and put my paper collection away. It is currently in several places, in neat stacks, but open and exposed and needing respectful placement (or kicked to the curb).

This was early morning light hitting all the glass on my table just so beautifully.
Perfect. Writing, sitting, thinking in this gorgeous day. Added footstool and put my feet up. That plant above my journals is an aloe that was in my office while I was gone. It barely got any sun. Or maybe someone put this in my office? Anyway, I brought it home to repot it in some fresh, nutrient soil. Depending on how it does, he may now spend the rest of his life with me. How could I give him a better home, only to be sent back to prison where he wilted? Almost died!
This potato vine trying to crawl up the chime tube.
Later in the day, light was hitting the “petals” of this green boy and the way it was shot, the light around is darkened in the photo. The leaves of the vine above look like moths, or butterflies, hovering over the happy soul of the spirit in the succulent.
This, a wonderful coincidence. Made me smile, teeth and all. Prism light hitting the owl’s mind, his frontal lobes, his crown chakra. Enlightened, wisened. Yes, me today, for sure! (This is the lid of a box).

Friday 10/23

This is so good. Do love modern production in the arts. Soundcraft!
This perfect blue sky under a strangely knotty pine. This pine was huge, and on a steep hillside we climbed from the canyon bottom not to far down below. What a gorgeous walk. New place, so it was honestly thrilling for me. They were filming something down in the canyon. They had a tent with wardrobe hanging and coffee and snacks. Signs were placed here and there saying that a film was being made and the guns and ammo were not real. LOL fun.
This was last night during a walk in the ‘hood. Ummm…it was October 22. My hope is that they are going to create a bloody horror scene for Halloween and we won’t really have to look at this shit till January 15. LOL
Look, a prism rainbow hit the wand/staff/stick! That other thing is an Ocatillo (I think this is correct?) “skeleton” and roots. From a natural death, nothing to do with me. I just picked up the body and brought it home with me. I should probably use it, especially now that it is imbued with unicorn dreams!
Wooden Rainbow.
I got some great gold pens.

All right, that’ll do for now.

Hey There, Beautiful Soul: What Other People Are For

Close up of Fox, Pinecone, Purple Flower. This is a highly metallic drawing. using metallic ink.

Here’s some new beautiful music to help move you along your journey:

Alright, so…this is a treasure. Described by the artist as, “a late night, candlelit feeling, evoking the light of dusk as the summer sun sinks below the horizon, setting the scene for thoughts and meditations that many people will relate to”. Indeed that is how it feels for me, too.

You will be unfolded in the most artful of fashions via other people. You will fold yourself up and throw yourself into harms way to endure what will later be smiled at upon reminiscing in your older age and lessons-learned.

You are always singing your own unique song on your lonesome, but there is no music you make that is not sent out into space that doesn’t harmonize or resonate with an Other, perhaps a someone, somewhere on this earth right now, creating a reverberating wavelength that travels on in the dreams of blessed recipients through time. Not ever lost, never discarded, but adding to the depth and solidity of the story of Earth and it’s ‘lings.

Other people are for focusing the continuous and unbroken spiral vision of your own will. For lifting you up or for slowing you down (sometimes necessary); for refining your will to be who you shall be or wish to be in the very next moment and possibly forever through time. To control and be controlled by. Other people are for who you do not wish to be, to curb you and to push you away from a destiny not of your own choosing.

Sometimes what other people are for is to exorcise the bullshit demons from your mind. Find and accept the people who serve your purpose to survive in this place.

This badass song should strengthen you to continue your work.

The Call to Adventure · Jonathan Hultén

You hold a secret art
The kind of treasure I revere

I call on you
To take me far away
To cross the vast and meet the fear

You hold the key I need
To get where I intend to go

Dream again
Of wonders of the vast
Towards joy, madness and woe

I let you light my way
To the places I am meant to see

Lies hidden in our hearts
Shackled, longing to be free

Death comes and grabs you by the shoulders
And speaks in harsh tone
In the end, your path and your life is your own

And there are hard choices to be made
To act out a dream no matter what it takes
And to hold it close until the very end

The Call To Adventure

Sunday. Today was a wonderful, beautiful day of peace. Outdoor air finally a bit cleaner though now my chest and sinuses infected enough to make me tired. It helped to force me into relaxing postures and attune to music. To write a lot and when not doing either reading, writing, or music listening, to enjoy sharing stories with Adam here in the treehouse. My mom sent pictures of me and my brothers as her babies. My older brother sent a picture of he and his lovely partner in adventure, Amy. They are going somewhere in their car, enjoying life. My younger brother sent pictures of my parents standing sweetly, happily in front of their house. I nearly choke up at the sight of their elderly bodies, so innocent and accepting of life it seems – looking happy, such a relief to me that they are happy. They have a new project in their yard and I am relieved that the force of life still pushes them on, into plans and enjoying and photographing filling breakfasts they make with their hands.

May the road rise with you.

So, Saturday evening I went to a Women’s Shamanic Circle and I will return again in December. There was a Russian woman there I totally vibed with and I regret fleeing the scene so quickly afterward. There she was, standing out in the parking lot, beaming at me. A loner, just like me, an outsider interested in our mutual weirdness and I fucking RAN away. lol It’s ok though, I had had enough for the night and was way overstimulated at that point. I just hope she comes back, because she was SO interesting and SMART. I will be sad if I never see her again. What is normal protocol? Hi. I sense we like each other. Give me your number and I’ll never call you. God, gimme this woman…we need each other. We could have so much fun and she’s so intelligent and can tell me more about her perspective and pain, having lived through the transition from USSR to Russia and then coming to the states and being from another dimension. She will never have met a more interested listener.

So, I wrote the facilitator/teacher/guide a thank you note I shall send in the mail, because who doesn’t like that? Who doesn’t love that. 🙂 I drew a little symbolic think on the inside, unwritten-upon flap to eliminate any blank space (more like, to use a precious blank space).

The Thank-You Card to Karen (inside flap).


Interesting synchronicities about anger today, so I really started paying attention. This is my summary, my take-away:

Captain is an obnoxious desk-fellow. He exactly always find that key and shrinks my screen size down to about 80%. I’m always shifting him and my keyboard around like a planchette on a ouija board and it’s my fucking fault for letting him up here this summer. Never did it before and now he can’t be stopped. Not ethically, anyway.

We are super rare. And each of us yet another rarity.


Don’t wish I had the skills over whatever it is I do have. I’d rather be able to see what I’m seeing and be open to it. Yeah, years of social pain and pointlessness (sometimes) of Outside-of-Self actions. I liked it, I really did; I still do sometimes (sometimes).

In fact, yesterday we met a new neighbor (like, right next door in the building next to mine). He’s around our age. A smart IT person, an exuberant, outgoing personality. And a roleplaying D&D player!!! He lives alone and his wife died in 2016 (the flood that broke through the door of my heart for him when he said that…). Sweet man. Not vulnerable and bleeding (healthy, doing ok). And, I know he likes Marilyn Manson because he was blasting it from the little white company car he drives. He parallel parks like he’s on fast-forward. I see this all from my window and on my walk on the skinny, winding sidewalk through the tiny gardens of this place.

Ok, am going to meditate now. I promised myself. Ritual is reality.

What is farther away from you seems less real.

What is closer to you seems the more real.

What is too close can take over too much of your Being, will to create your focus, your reality. Anything and everything can be explained. To us humans, we can only see so far because we can only think so far. We are inside a structure that is inside a structure, always. All we are is all we can be. It’s hard to explain things because it requires a lot of connection and simultaneous seeing. Eternity already exists, but we are trillions of light years behind. We will seemingly never see the end, yet it is already over. We exist, we’re already gone.

Ritual creates reality, yo.

FRIDAY Night hike last night. We turned our lights off on the top of the peak where we stood on a wide, open trail. The stars came out, more and more, beautiful and so far away. Saw the milky way, endless stars up there. An endless depth. Here we are, seeing it in this way, through our animal eyes. The Universe being something so large and incomprehensible that it becomes pointless and we become its center.

Saturday. We sat outside a lot. I have a very, very long nap. Lot of reading, writing and listening to music. My body somewhat stiff from yesterday’s 5 miles. I ate hot, creamy polenta with chopped spinach and chopped carrots topped with a slab of melting butter, and a chopped tomato. It was heaven. It was incredibly beautiful outside today. I felt very aligned with it…held in its safety somehow. Grateful for it. A little scared. The tension is a bit much in the world right now. Adam feels me and so he knows. He has been extramuch there for me the past couple of days. His tenderness is rare. His kindness sincere. It’s been 26 years having him in my life, and sometimes I marvel that he is real. He is a healer and teacher and every day he makes the world better just by being in it. People like him, you have to give them space. They need time to either be alone, or not be fixing or giving of themselves. They need to chill and play video games. They need to be thanked for the sandwiches they bring home when they go out so they can listen to music while driving. Yeah, it’s a nice thing to understand the needs of your partner. It’s super fucking wholesome to anticipate each other’s comfort and well-being. Just some thoughts on today, and why it worked so well and was beautiful and pure even though there was a sadness/anxiety cloud-wave in and around me. I’m really learning to appreciate quiet beauty again.

I need to travel. All things in their time, Jen; and there’s time for everything. (Yes, it’s true). Want to see my brother, I want us all to meet up.

Ok, tomorrow is a new day and a fresh beginning. It will be full of goodness, for sure.

What Goes Noticed Reflects Our State of Being

What is noticed by us says more of ourselves than it does of what is observed (the “reality”). Do you see the small and delicate thing worth keeping, or do you see a burden that will give you a perpetual sense of unwanted caution? Of something beautiful or shining, do you see the poise or a pose? Do you see the history/entropy/infusion of chemistry or do you see imperfection/irrelevence/ruination of an assigned purity?

How it serves you: What you think about your observations can serve as a mirror of what it is you see in life, in your very self. For the world is just too full of information and it is so much that cannot be fully known or understood by any one being, let alone any one state of your being. All that is noticed is read, interpreted, felt. It is all interpretation.

You can say you don’t apply meaning, that you see things for what they are, but do you? Do you just see yourself? If so that’s fine and natural. But do you know that what you see describes you? While the physics of the material world apply, you are the interpretation of the world. Can you see yourself moving into broader, better perspective at certain points? Can you see the purity and beauty a little bit more than you currently do? I would choose to fill my world with freedom (which is also like a void and can feel expansive and eternally full of joy) rather than limitation through a constant (near religious) belief in your own philosophy (of self-state). An acceptance of allowing a non-knowing attitude when I am able. A true agnostic when possible.

Don’t be afraid to be someone else. It’s still You.

Love the art, not the artist. You will always find some flaw, some non-sense or untruth if you keep digging. No world is perfect nor can it represent your final truth, your most pure answer. Expect nothing from others – that is not your right. Take freely and with gratitude what is lovingly given to you – that is your only entitlement. Always express gratitude! It’s fucking fun, man!

Jonathan Hulten – Where Devils Weep

This is a visual masterpiece, and exquisite thing, this video. My friend sent this to me, it resonates hugely with her and so too does it with me. Wow, thank you, beautiful girl.


[10/8/20 6:36 AM] Cam: “Everyone experiences pain and most suffer from patterns that continue to make life miserable unless something or someone intervenes. The pain we feel comes from the cross-wise energies that keep curving back and cancelling the wise self and the good word that wait to be expressed from within us. Persistent pain is usually the indication that we have become trapped in a life too small for our true nature. That is the usual human fate and the common predicament where the little-self obscures the greater nature behind it. Until people realize what harms them and limits them from within, they are unlikely to call out for someone to help stop the pain. The remedy may be nearby, but until the pain becomes unbearable most remain caught in the agony of one form or another of self-inflicted wounds. As Rumi said, ‘The cure for the pain is in the pain.‘”
– Michael Meade, “Fate and Destiny”

Then ANOTHER of my best and witchiest people asked me about my state of consciousness and I felt like I was in this early morning love sandwich. Something really does happen that is quite amazing and good when I choose (when possible, when able) to be strong and go into the sky rather than the black lake of introspection. Either is fine when its time is right, but when I can and do choose to go into the sky, all kinds of wonderful things really do happen for me. I really seem to plug in sturdily to the SomethingElseGrandAndGood.

Ace of Wands (meditation for today)

Wands in general symbolize creation, and the Ace of Wands is the purest and plainly meant symbol for an individual life-creating, life-changing empowerment and action. It is not the stuff of hobbies or taking a vacation. It is bravely moving in to your own truer self. It’s symbolism can help one see clearly what the “dream” for oneself is, and where intuition is pointing to in regards to true fulfillment. It is associated with willpower, and creativity in the Grandest sense and rooted in what is primal within.

New Journal Time!

I just filled up my journal (unbelievable, synchronistic timing! The ending! <3) So, I’m going to meet my Adam at the bookstore and we are going to browse and enjoy ourselves. I am going to treat myself to a beautiful journal. Probably get a coffee, too, I think. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. While I am happy with the practicality and personal warm feelings with my good ole green, $3, Salvation Army journal, this time I would like something refined and beautiful.

My wonderful, sweet Adam bought me both this and my new journal. He knows what I need in life and he wants to see me happy, even if it is crazy. (Look at that sky in the background!!!)

This journal is so beautiful. I loved it, but had just got started looking at all the journals at the book shop. However, when I saw it was made in Maine, I knew it was the one. It has smooth, fine paper and gilded edging. A lovely weight and about a year’s worth of pages.

I will not allow for myself to get trapped into things too small for me.

Thank you, 2020, for the focus, for the meaning, for the love of self and life. Showing me I am like an endless spring, rising up to the surface of a desert, going underground when is natural and guided for me, arising again to see and feel the warmth of the sun, to share my spirit and enrich others. To bless others and to be grateful for the opportunity to do so. To wrap myself in the vastness of stars, to remove my focus from just the few, to let go of and to fly fly fly and not be afraid of death. What is a fresh and beautiful new beginning except for some other beginning’s end? Over and over again…a cycle renewed.

My life is not defined by someone else’s storytelling, segmentation or division or mirroring of me. My chapters don’t begin and end except inside me. This is my story. I narrate, I develop the storyline. I create the next scene. I will not focus or linger in thought on myself as some character in an Other’s fiction, someone else’s cheap copy of a copy or unoriginal horseshit. I am what is real and I am a fucking unicorn.

The Strangest Fortune (& Red Sketchbook Archive)

I like who I am and have become…I have a lot. I got everything I wanted. The people I care about are safe and warm in their own homes and lives, knowing without a doubt that I love them (good for my own peace of mind. A bucket-list thing) and I am living in a treehouse, drawing and painting, and writing with the sun inside my black inner-space. Rainbows casting onto my face from out of nowhere. Just because. More sadness is coming, to be sure. That is part of this whole thing. But I’ve built this inner core of molten gold that floats in the black inner-space, too and also floats in the outer-space outside of me in the material world. Inner and outer light. For real this time. It is a blissful state. I hope it’s not just the coffee kicking in. 😉

Candles at pre-dawn are a newly discovered beauty! It has a feel like nothing else. While this doesn’t fully capture it, you get the idea.
The absolute strangest fortune ever to be told. I was both spooked and honored…
Found that a daily (or weekly) meditation using a 3-card spread fit nicely into my lampshade binding ribbon, like a bulletin board at the ready. Put my strange fortune and my regular fortune here as well. I wish I could memorize the meaning of the cards, but my brain is just fucked in that way so I always have to reference the books and online resources. C’est la vie.
The day after the harvest moon, it was incredibly beautiful. It was huge, clear, and yellow. The planet near it was bright and shining. Wow! (my photo is garbage, but I wanted to remember this night’s feel).
I used one of my James Eads stickers to create the cover of my Book o’ Wisdom. It’s a wonderful thing that I only allow myself to enter strict truths inside of. I have made a few mistakes with subjective quotes and whatnot, but I have the hang of it. It is hard to not put my thoughts into it, but it’s important. I’m basically making a trusty manual for my life with it. A place I can refer to when I need solid advice. It is glorious, or at least will be.

I love this comment (I am leaning in on the Taoist philosophy this week. It has helped my mind):

“Taoism: Be like water. Stoicism: Be like a rock the waves crash over. Well, if we are to accept impermanence, we might as well be both.” – Alex Blank.

Emotional Equations by Chip Conley. I absolutely love this. Accurate.

Authenticity = self-awareness and courage. Yeahh!!! Goals. Everyday.

Chimes sing Sunday morn
Today’s the day she’s sworn
To steal what she never could own
And race from this hole she calls home

Now you’re at the wheel
Tell me how, how does it feel?
So good to have equalized
To lift up the lids of your eyes

As the miles they disappear
See land begin to clear
Free from the filth and the scum
This American satellite’s won

She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall
She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall

See the steeple pine
The hills as old as time
Soon to be put to the test
To be whipped by the winds of the west

Stands on shifting sands
The scales held in her hands
The wind it just whips her and wails
And fills up her brigantine sails

She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall
She’ll carry on through it all
She’s a waterfall

Returning to Self Is The Journey For Me

(Monday) I’m back at my job, and you know what? it’s good and fine. All’s well. My office was so clean and unused that it was crazy weird to feel a space with so little energy that I was able to feel a space that didn’t have me in it. Odd and very, very interesting. All manner of interesting observations within my inner world coming back to an old place I really never expected to be back inside of. Where to start?

Firstly, and I’m not joking and I’m not sick: I am a boon to any room I am in. This is not narcissism, this is who we are potentially are when we’re “ok”. I am a positive and colorful energy that spreads…joy. I am happiness because of how conscious and nurturing I am to others’, well, Beingness. I saw fresh calm and saw fresh relief of something I was bringing back to them. Not necessary or critical, but an energy set into the material realm that it is felt as something good by other people. It’s the something you leave with people that mirrors their beauty right back at them, because my enjoying them is genuine and I am only enjoying what’s real in any person because…I know the truth. I am sometimes someone who thinks she is selfish and horrible because I have sad or bitter or tired moods (it’s ok to be tired), but I have learned that the emotions are the weather. Sometimes it rains (it storms), sometimes its a scary whirlwind but always behind the weather is my sunlight, coming from a me so real and valuable that even I know it is real and there (now). Me, the shining golden soul of me that somehow fucking exists inside this all. My life as a human being is like some kind of game to find myself again and again. A hide and seek occurs frequently and I forget I’m even playing this game. Some kind of game we all play.

m83 To Sudden Silence (the way it rises, like a 70 foot tall wave, and then rages, and then dissipates. Lovely). God, life is so so beautiful. Bless the music in us.
Beach House – You Came To Me. Fuck yeah. I want to get stoned and wander the winter garden and make a pretend video with my girl. Wear a long white dress and a black shawl.

The Red Sketchbook

What will the next cool thing I get to experience be? i wonder. I hope it’s soon. I’m enjoying myself and wish it would continue to flow.

Dopamine & A Sketchbook Archive

Picture yourself on a boat on a river.

I love this video and I think this is my favorite song off the album. Been a nice time in September for music. I’m going to burn myself out on all of it if I’m not careful.

I love her moonlight hair…

I had wonderful dreams in the middle of the night. Beautiful dreams of a fantastical nature alongside beautiful music and lights and rainbows. Much like my trip, but fuller. Fully beautiful and fun, joyful creativity. It was exactly like a really great music video which made me laugh. I woke smiling, with my cat, Captain, snuggled exactly in the right spot of our mutual heart-space curves. He is so precious to me. He’s getting old, I see it more and more, but we’ve aged together, my little buddy and I.

One of the messages I got from my trip (a repeated from past sessions kind of message) was that there was “time for everything” and that I should let go of rushing to make life happen (fulfillment?) because it was all happening on a deep level anyway. I didn’t need to work so hard in the direction I was working. “All things in their due time”. I don’t have to work so hard, on people, on myself – it’s the same thing as working for nothing and wearing oneself out to exhaustion with nobody caring and nothing special constructed. I could see that my pace is frantic. I’m trying to get things done that are getting done anyway. I guess I should accept some peace in knowing that by the time this is over for Me, I’ll be satisfied.

Mostly 2007-2008, but some from later years.

I started lightly, purposelessly painting. Started on the balcony. It’s extremely relaxing. All vanity is gone so I’m free to whatever. I’m not doing anything experimental on any masterpiece, so it’s fine whatever I do. I have so much blank canvas and what I don’t like I can either throw out or cut off of the stretcher bars and store in a drawer or closet. Everything small and manageable. The size and scope of which I can handle and nothing more. Zero expectation. Even if it’s bad it’s good.