We see these animalistic liars – I do. I, myself and others, too. What good is an interesting character without the observation of the Other? How do we see ourselves, but as the object of another?
I made myself go swimming (fear of going there alone), and it was quick and lovely. I swam back and forth, with my eyes closed to keep out the light. Listening to the waters around me, being moved by me. After the pool, I got into the hot tub. Wondered if anyone was watching me from above. Didn’t care. Let them observe. Let them use me however they’d like to from behind the darkness of day-glass. I took a cold shower and rinsed my hair at the outside shower, taking the elastic band out, the clip, too, that held it all close. Long, wet and black, like a seal’s back, I imagined it looked from away. My eyeliner and mascara unflatteringly muddied under my eyes. I went home and rubbed Rosehip oil into my face. My skin feels good. Cool to the touch, my whole body. My damp hair. Freckles a little darker now, and plentiful.
All that matters is what I think of and about my Self. That’s all we really have control over, truly. Prove me wrong. I’ll fight you for it – you’ll lose.
Extroversion and enthusiasm and zest for flight – these kinds of people I don’t like to see those people suffer. But they do. Here’s an important thing:
It is a fascinating time to be alive. Fascinating, I suppose as it has always been to be no one in particular. A freckle on the nose. A cute feature of a gnome’s dream, us. Us. The absolute and total separateness of Us. Yet here we all are, together, embracing fully only in our dreams. Dreams lost to tides of hopelessness and helplessness, we. Yet life, it is so truly beautiful, and magical, and MYSTICAL!!! Violet and indigo! Fuscia and yellow!!! Light and shadow!!Beauty, filth, and chaos. Together. Dividing, and multiplying. Ruination. Reincarnation. Revelation. Reunification. Regeneration. Regulation. Ruination. Reincarnation; etc. It sounds scary, and it is.
I would like to make videos of me talking to the Universe about what it is like in this glass jar.
Oh, Brittney Spears is a fucking human-trafficing victim.
This was ADORABLE
You know why you really have to be yourself, and really love yourself, and really know yourself? Because no one else, no matter how much they do, will ever love you or know you fully. No one person. Never. Ever. That is why self-love and self-acceptance are crucial to one having a happy life. Critical; needed; a must.
An Everyday Angel, or, a Rude Genius? Which one would I rather be? The one in the middle. And that one is? Human. Totally, straight vanilla human. A monster and a savior. I have that inside me. It’s the secret to my understanding of self (and acceptance and understanding of everyone else, too), kinda like the first truth I ever knew about myself. I would love to save you, but under other circumstances, I’d love to see your bones crushed and such. Needed: broader understandings; better interpretations. Goodness for once and all. Who we are is important. Who we are matters. Profound, are we. Really, I really mean that.
When the waters come in, what is tall will fall.
Some days, you just ain’t winnin’. Some days you’re the bully and somedays you’re the victim; but usually you’re just some guy out in his backyard, trying to
“Good Art is worth making, Jen” That’s what my guardian angel told me. We, in life, carve our knives through the body of the Ocean. We weep. I am an artist. I am a mystery writer.
Understanding is not the same as knowing. There are many schools. Higher schools. It’s a serious time. Some types of times last years. Many of them do.
A client brought me a huge slice of chocolate cake from BLUEBERRY HILL! The memory of being outside, facing east at pre-dawn. Watching the magical-blue sky of the Unicorn Dawn. The stars, the planets Venus and Mars. Empty desert lots that were turning the sharp corner of going from nothing-really’s to becoming extremely valuable. Before Walmart was everywhere and all hope was lost.
I feel like I should go back and delete at least half of this post here; but I don’t want to edit. I just don’t. They can’t all be gems. I may have to let some fields grow wild and be full of repetative daisies. Shitty, obvious daisies.
Everyone should have a church inside them that worships their rainbow self. I know I’ve got one, and I know it makes me batshit insane, but it also makes me very special, even if no one can or will ever see it; BUT, but, everyone relates to this. They know at the core how special they are – that’s part of why a lot of adults hate a lot of children, you know? Anyway, everyone – every fucking one of us, of them – is just as golden. At the core we are all lonely and that makes us a little sad, but there is a cure for that: it is Self-love and love of the Other.
Not getting high isn’t working out.
But I’m having a good, good life. A very good, interesting, sometimes fun, sometimes shitty life. It’s all good, even when it’s bad.
Even if just for the summer. I cannot believe the level of anxiety I feel, just from parting from this place, even for my own good, my own betterment – and even so, only temporarily. I have the anxiety…like an addiction. I feel very bad about it. I feel like I have gotten on a bus, to go far away (too far to walk), and am at the mercy of others. Such a strange development. I am deeply surprised and have a sense of having lost control. Its tie to here, this, my writings and pictures place is obvious. This place I put things that have nowhere else to go and are only expressed in this way – this place has become a home of mine. Home of mind.
I chose very recently to quit smoking pot so I could be hyper-aware and be able to focus on things that require different parts of my brain to focus and come forward and do work, and it was a good idea, for sure it was correct, but jesus christ. It’s intense enough of a fucking big deal that I want to mark it in time – here – so that I can see where this goes with the evidence to stir memory in future when everything will probably be totally different.
I dunno. What a helpless freakshow I feel like right now. I will settle, and I want to see how that happens, but I don’t like this feeling AT ALL and I hope it goes away very soon for fuck’s sake.
I need wisdom, power and peace. Why oh why did I lift up my anchor?
I appreciate that we all simply MUST go through these weird and scary places. We have to go to the dentist and be willingly vulnerable and at the mercy of people and places, but over time, we do these things because we know we need to and because our tomorrow-selves depend on us to do the right things, as soon as possible.
I have to keep…I have to make that breakthrough. I have to get out the paint. I want to see that dark indigo night surrounding my illustrated spirit. The animals that are my totem. The music that is a sacred place echoing from the underground inside me. I’m struggling. I appreciate that it isn’t special to struggle. I’m soon going to be grateful for the deepening my suffering will create. Like the force of water, the deluge from above, I am deepened in parts of me that will remain to refresh me daily and nurture the parts of my world – above and below – and enable me to be a place in this world. A walking breathing darkness where others can benefit and find a shadowy respite in an overly saturated, overly lit, loudly advertised world.
Inspired by an Artist Date (from the Artist’s Way)I went to the Sound Bath tonight, where I sat under the dark rainbows of the underworld, changing ways between loving and hating myself.
I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of the inside of the meditation room. It the dark, Christmas-like lights draped around the large space. Flags of tie-dye and batik design hanging above as I lay on thick, expensive cushions with cotton covers of Indian design, low on the ground. A white sheet folded on each. The half-circle of colored quartz bowls where the leader strikes lightly with a rod and then runs around the rim of each bowl, creating a tone like one would with a wine glass. The bowls are large, so the tones are powerful and you can really feel them penetrate the waters of the room and bodies within. There were also chimes she, the leader, played here and there. What was truly surprising was when she started singing – it was long into the session when she began, after multiple cycles of the tones being played – her voice was pure, beautiful, unfettered by showmanship. Absolutely magnificent. I sat up at that point, the only one. Not making eye contact, but needing to be upright. I sat and listened. Peeping only when I knew I would not break her spell by making any conscious contact with her. I watched her, and it was fine because she was facing away. Just gorgeous. She is a beautiful, petite woman, with a massive mane of curly hair. Pale grey now, once strawberry-blonde. She sang in a combination of old Indian chanting and mixed into it her own Hebrew words. Casting a spell of healing, and it was true healing because true healing is creating balance. Definitely felt balanced and happier for having been there.
During the sound bath, I let my mind wander. A lot of yellow popped up. Images of certain animals (hummingbird, zebra, others) surrounded in a yellow field. I wonder about that. Asked about the meaning of a prevalence of color after the session and teacher said yellow corresponds with the solar chakra, a place/vibration of control, like foundational security within oneself.
I do have a lot of new confidence (in part, thanks a lot to my heart and actions I am able to express through my job). I will work on nurturing my power and keeping it centered within.
Boring people are just really into themselves, and there’s nothing wrong with that. What we are is a pure marvel. Our most mundane gestures are rife with historical and miraculous relevence.
I am leaving here for a while to go focus on other things.
I have an opportunity to go be, see and do other things – and I really want to. I have an out, mentally speaking, for taking a long-needed break. I really need to focus on what is blooming in life, for the long summer ahead of me. I wish to fill it with as many good experiences and as much good, green, growing as possible. I want what is old and stagnant to be put to rest and let go of. I want to pick up and nurture what is in front of me. I have a whole summer, 3 months, to write in, think in, travel in, play in, create in and dance to.
Here’s to all the magic that awaits us. Have a great summer! See you next year! Here’s to the creativity, adventure and love that await!
Something really fucking bad happened to these two sisters who went to Florida, many years ago. People get fucked up by life. Really affected by it for the rest of their lives. I wish I could help them heal, or at least not get any worse. People who were paranoid before must have been utterly fucked up by 2020. This is all serious business, but if I’mma be honest, I have a smile on my face and have the chuckles. I’m scared of who we are and could be. Really shitty, like WWII “go ahead and murder my neighbors” shitty. The potential is real and we control it. Every day. Inside ourselves, our families, one’s culture, our society.
Today was really good. Two, wonderful, professional men helped me with my scariest start-of-something all year. I feel perfectly safe, and that is NOT how I expected to end this day. Not at all. I ended up having the nicest day. Wow. I even went to Target afterward. Picked up a summer’s worth of clinical-strength deodorant (my brand is Secret and it’s fucking great); organic bread; mint Pep’ridge Fahm cookies; Windex (a rare buy – I never seem to run out of it); I was tempted to buy this make-up, basically because it had amazing paper design with gold foil and tiny cat heads in the pattern – …uhh, I lost my point.
I find myself feeling angry at people this week. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so bothered by people, socially. I guess it’s just par for being around so many people and so regularly, too. Yuck, I don’t like social challenges, like, I want to become more practiced at patience and being aware of my deeper understandings which tend to bring me peace and calm and openness to joy. But I’m human and I have to go through this shit. It does help me understand people. In fact, I understand how people do not have control of their feelings.
Oh how wonderful it has been to have this perfect day. We had coffee on the balcony, we went for a swim, we then went for a hike, on the drive up listening to Front 242 (same freaking morning! it was wonderful), then some groceries, then home.
Days in Spring that are like the hottest of summer. Doesn’t feel right. The forest is dying. We met a rich man who invited us up to his house on the slope. He left a bucket of water under the bridge to help burros who may be seeking water.
It was near perfect up there. A beautiful retreat, and overcast. So many wildflowers, and butterflies. Good, warm pine forest smells.
I feel like I’ve begun a lucky phase. I am so glad.
I got a wise owl at the grocery store to remind me to put my heart and my head in a good space in all the deepest ways I can.
It’s been a wonderful weekend! Wonderful. I watched several great documentaries. I enjoyed good food. I swam. I smelled the forest.
A lady I was kind to came back after she left and handed me this angel painted on a rock and walked out without saying a word. I was deeply touched. I know why she gave it to me, and I am honored by her gift. I want to live up to it, as a kind-hearted person, who wants to help people in transition, to help them move through things, and to heal:
Oh, yeah, and I talked to my dad today. He was at breakfast, with a big group of family at Original Pancake House and he got one of their rare apple pancakes (I guess they sell out quick and only make a certain amount). He sounded so incredibly happy…! So happy!!! Deep down, all around, full of joy was he. I am SO glad…<3
Life is too hard for me. I can’t be the only one. Does no one outgrow the pain? The pressure? The fear. The loathing. Las Vegas. I seem to be turning into something else, and I have little control – too much control – but goddamn, none at all. I don’t do anything particularly well at all, except this existence thing. Of that, I am very, very…I can’t believe I am rooted in some kind of reality. To tell myself anything else is a lie. The cost of living on the edge, near the veil, so you can be closer to (or is it look from a higher-up perspective! A “better” perspective means one with more complication, more involvement, but a “truer” reality because it contains more “facts”.
I wish I were better at choosing, focusing, staying still for longer periods of time. Shit, I’m fucking down today. Still, yes, it was life I lived today. I know better to know I’m at a place, at a curve, on a cycle of a long-running perpetual-motion machine. I’m just floating along here. I really fucked a lot of things up. There were things that I could have lived differently. But am I just down on myself? After all, at the end of it all I would say it was unique, and human, and not really vague at all. Full of many a Jennifer who would both cause and solve trouble, a Jenny who sat on Santa’s lap; a Jen who did everything with very little and became a magical psychic demon/angel, just like she always thought she might be. But then, I’ve been a lot of people.
Fun question: If all of your personality traits, your ego, how others would describe you, what would your society look like?
Lay atop and be floated by it. Fall asleep and be created by it. You will never lose awareness, and that is what is really feared, truly. Am I not right. Of course I am.
The MUGS…the mugs, in them I saw innocent color and symbolism, divinely intuited by us in our meaty kaleidoscope world…it came back to me, so joyfully, too! I hadn’t experienced it in years. Such a simple, fun, wonderful catalyst!
I did do the shrooms. It was incredibly traumatic. I was worried I wouldn’t quite mentally heal from it. Boy, was it something. I am already moved past its “negative” experiences (holy fucking shit, i was in an endless fountain of recurring problems. Hell is: Never changing the subject. The seriousness of moving through everything; letting go; giving up and accepting death and defeat). Very interesting. Holy shit. I did not expect AT ALL for the experience to be anything other than a pleasant sensory experience with wonderful tripping and conversation with the Other Worlds. I wouldn’t willy-nilly recommend shrooms to anyone just for shits and giggles. I wouldn’t. But then again, I surely would. I guess we’re all related to everyone else’s traumas anyway. And, I remember laughing as often as I was sobbing, over and over again at how funny the whole thing was, trauma and all. It was scary, but a long while after, I had somehow grown magnificently. Am wisened up to my age. I felt like I can endure quite a bit, just as long as I remember to surrender to it. It was fucking crazy. Holy. Thank god I can’t remember the endless details. One thing is for sure: we perpetuate our own hells. I know that now, without a doubt.
I will never understand. 🙂 It’s stupid and hysterical. My negative voice; my positive voice; all the voices in-between. Life is truly and really Madness. How to blame anyone for anything at all? We are all choosing the most reasonably ideal and accessible reality for ourselves at all times. Some of us are luckier than ever, but there are also endless facets and considerations that leave such ideas – hence, “realities” – in the dirt. In the dust of what once was. And the dust goes into the earth and meets up with the roots that then draw them in, drawing them up and into creation; to be born again as New Leaf in a new dawning of Life = Experience and Expression (and that is what I can best describe “God” or the “As Much As Possible”
I don’t know if I am a hero, or if I should kill myself, but life is pointless, and marvelous and whether to our horror or delight, is also Endless/ness. (Wow. I have sorrow for us all. Pointless, I know. Oh wave of dark shadows, the stuff of vampires. I feed off of you, fearing Death, yet wishing to die).
As best as you can describe a thing (an expression of Nature/the nature of something): that is the goal of One’s art. That’s good, that’s informative, Jen. Take that one to heart. Write it down somewhere.
Music is transendent of all other life because it is vibrational, not the physical effects like wiggling bodily and it being a physiological sense, but that it literally moves the light inside us to an arrangement we can and do attune to. We can experience a kind of bodily-mental theatre within ourselves – AND we can grow from it. Isn’t that amazing? It has to be true.
There was definitely a time in my life that this would not have resonated with me, but I love to reflect upon myself inside it.
Someday what I want to make: A gesture of the most connected kind of Love (that also illustrates that we are separation upon separation, all of us here, every day). Very beautiful and something beautiful inside of existence but outside of Human experience. Something not bright, but full of light. Some expression of my repulsion and rusted worship of Life. Of this existence as a god in a prison; a beloved child shackled to a verdant paradise.
My plan is to experience life as best I can, enjoy it as best I can. Road trips, good food, lots of walking. Music, of course. Doing what I can for people I run into, when I am able. Floating on Life, letting go of being something special or having to do anything special.
June 1, 2021 The Trip (It Was Wonderful)
Two things about the visit that just leapt out at me (an epiphany delivered through symbolism): The birds, so happy and full of life, all around me; the flock of geese, a large family, moving along, going forward; the duck and the ducklings, crossing the road, making it safely to the other side; the quail that came in front of the car and thankfully safely maneuvered around; the feather at the foot of the bush just outside my parents door as we said good-bye. In it all, I had a sense of true beauty of life; something directly connected to the most acid-dose kind of connected Love. Something good and great; meaningful and precious; beneficial to all involved that will ripple out through them and into the world. It was incredibly interesting.
Aunt Jenny’s cat, Lucy Lou
Jenny’s spirit was there.
I felt the happiness of togetherness.
Everyone felt the peace.
It was lovely and bright.
On the other side, but full of life.
People come in to work every (I mean EVERY) day and tell me about someone they lost to Death. It is crazy, man. It isn’t covid. Something has changed in people and something is changed in me. I am positive this is not normal and hasn’t happened to me before. I am positive this does not happen to my coworkers like this happens with me. I am pulling this in, and it is a privilege to be able to be of service to other people. I shit you not, I don’t even do anything; I’m just open to it. I just open a kind of portal ( I do not know how to better describe this, maybe other people have other ways of describing the depths of communication…so hard to write about. I feel a bit like I am betraying a secret. I feel misunderstood when I put it into words – especially written words. But I feel like, like this:
I don’t know where life will take me. Not for how long it will take me or to where it will take me, I do not know. But I know I will change somehow, and I, being curious about myself and mylife, will want to be reminded of how it all transpired.
And that is now what this blog is about. Documenting the change (when I feel like it).
Everything’s changed, and it’s changed for the better. It was worth it all along. Nothing is forever. Everything falls apart. Nothing ever ends. Everything goes on. So Strange.
I feel like everything is moving too slowly for me now. But, I am responsible for what I do with that kind of excess energy. I know what I can and should like to do.
I don’t feel especially connected to anything right now, and that’s a strangeness.
I don’t want to pay my bills.
I am the question and the problem. I am the answer and the solution. Also, and so confusingly also, the thing my brain can’t handle is: that I and We (You, included) are simultaneously multiplying and dividing). We are everyday getting farther apart and more connected.
Doubting myself is becoming OLD. I’d kinda rather fail (at least try) at this point than doubt myself (do nothing). Yes, I care a lot less about failing. I’m bored of my life. I need to try some things. Yes. I think I will become a tourist. YES!!!
This is where I would like to go. So, I guess I’m already on my way? Yes, i suppose it is the slow, somewhat boring beginning, as beginnings sometimes can be.
I would like to let this go, but to be able to treasure this memory as a surprise someday. To be able to attach it to the richness of living, even in a boring state it just buzzes with energy – living, eh? I want to keep it but I want to let it go at the same time.
Like a butthole at a diaper festival, we are born to feel the consequences of our actions. We are born to feel all the waves we can.
When you’re really stressed out, it is because the waves are really close together. It’s being “high strung”. Like the string on a violin, the tighter the string is the closer the distance of the rise and falls of the waves and the higher the tone. Make sense? So how to make the waves farther apart – more manageable over the long run? You have to do mind-numbing stuff in a way that isn’t “informative”, merely experiential. So, you do something like run and run; or you paint willy-nilly, abstractly; you turn off the tv and you read a book.
What would you do, Jen?
I’d dance. And doodle. Water the plants. (Always shit is in our way, but yes, always do I love you. Always connected. Life is super dumb. Fall asleep, your dreams are endless and always refreshing. I feel your gratitude for me, and always will I be with you. Always, ALWAYS read between the lines. Know you are correct. Life does not diminish you. It is fulfilled by you, and you by it. Endless this creation and this madness. Dont be afraid. It is endlessly painful, but beautiful. Enjoy this. Naps, mountains of naps.
Listn to this, my love, my treasure:
What makes something “better”? Nothing. It’s all subjective.
Ok, I’ll go water the plants and I’ll dance a little bit. But I don’t have to doodle if I don’t want to. I don’t have to do anything. Oh, but I do; one does. One does lots of things doing nothing. So like God are we. So like him and so like her and so like the one.
I did it – I danced, and it was wonderful. I really enjoyed it…!
How is the rhythm of my work? I am curious. Shroom time soon. But who knows when, also.
Insert Adam’s Good Advice, here.
Today the reward was someone else feeling loved on her birthday. It was simple, but I involved the others and they loved it as much as she did because they looooved seeing this lady feeling the love. It was really beautiful. We made her day a great one, for sure. So simple, so valuable, so good.
Look at this and find healing (I know, I know. I feel you. I understand.
I know and I understand you.
Trust me on this: Give in to fate. Surrender. Be unfolded by it. Be undone.
Death is a dance, you are always a willing partner and participant.
Everyone you know and love will be there. Participating endlessly with you.
Unfolding, continuously unfolding.
Yes. even as your body dies.
Lay down to it.
Let it unfold you.
There, there will you find, there it is always. Always. That I hold you.
Some things, I’ve grown to understand, have to be sad before they can be funny. You can’t jump the gun, you’ve got to explore your pain and your thoughts on occasion. But it comes to be true, also that most things are shamefully funny, obnoxiously hilarious – and that is one of my favorite ways to experience life. What is to be moved on to next? The true be(oops italics)ginings of life are interesting. Good places to rest and have a fresh start. Clean. In nature, everything is clean, really. And nothing is wasted. We are entirely dependent on this planet, but somehow we overwrote it, that Grand Momentum. I guess all momentum of an object is not more that the sum of its smaller elements, swinging around at rhythms soon to lapse in steadiness and then slow decline of synchronicity until a final smashing and crashing of them. But to the Universe this disaster is crumbs. A glorious other reality lay just beyond it, in the next cell, whole new stories. Stories we’re all connected to. Nothing is lost, only hidden from sight – inner and outer sight.
I dunno who this is for, but: Get up. Get back on your bike and just start peddling and go. Trust that you won’t fall over, it’s easier to keep your momentum going and understand and believe that you are flying, not falling. Don’t be afraid of what you’ll need to do to stop. You won’t need to stop for a good, long while, and by then you won’t have so much anxiety as what you feel when you first push off. So, your mind will be calmer, clearer when you need to slow and then stop. Do that a few times and you’re good. Your body will get it and then you’ll trust yourself.
Don’t be afraid to upgrade someone else’s life at your own expense. It will work out in your favor. Be generous and giving when you find yourself self-obsessed. It helps get one’s psychological wagon wheels out of those deeply entrenched mental ruts. There is not a need to act impulsively, but it is good to act impulsively if it benefits another person and causes no harm to yourself. Be careful about self-harmer evaluations. Are you sure you’ll be harmed? Being afraid is not the same as being harmed.