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A deeper death of a shallow part of myself December 9, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
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Not sure exactly where the title of this post is coming from, but I finished this amazing book which I will most likely blog on at frostwolfpines.  S. H. Buhner’s The Secret Teachings of Plants really rocked my world.  For me personally, this is a life-changing read.  Through this study of plants, I find this amazing gift that describes to me how I approach the writing of plays and why it’s been so difficult for me for the past 13 or so years while working in the vEmpire.

To be a playwright like the way I am a playwright I have to have a big wide open heart.  But it’s more than that.  The heart for a playwright is the seat of intelligence.  Really that is the way it is for all humans as the book makes explicitly clear.  The wisdom of the heart’s awarenesses and perceptions are our birthright.  But we are rewarded for the use (and abuse) of our intellects, our verbal/analytical skills.  That aspect of our human beings gives great support, but to supplant the heart with its “wisdom” is to err gravely and greatly.

I found myself having my breath caught up again and again as I read this, but today I read something that started a crying streak, and that was that as we show up to the work of meeting plants in the Mundus Imaginalis, as we show up to meet others with their diseases and conditions and to experience their diseased parts, we are ourselves changed and brought face to face with our shadows.

Now, I’m a really Plutonian sort of Pisces at root.  I understand that tsunami inside me that can rise up and sweep away all that’s in its path, and sometimes it comes up more to wash my own self-image into the abyss.  But Buhner said that one of the deaths we experience is that of our reductionist selves as we show up and allow Nature to shape our morality and our ability to be fresh as a child in our interactions with the more-than-human world.  And as I continue to go through the convalescence period of having left a corporate job and buried the corporate identity, as I acknowledge long-shunted away desires and longings after certain sorts of experiences with Nature and the use of my hands with natural products, I come to understand that I am slowly but methodically disassembling that part of me that has so relished and overutilized single-pointed focus.

This work inclines toward multi-pointed foci along many axes of dimensionality.  I listen now to pine trees, and pay attention to the vision of myself five years from now and make little discoveries.  Like that this fellow at 51 I see sitting by a river is sitting under poplar trees.  And that there is goldenrod nearby.  I hear the chirping of cardinals as well.  Hm.  It’s a sunny day in a delicious fall I can tell.  Fall, 2015 I guess. 

Yesterday, I felt a wave of despair crash over me.  I know that part of it has to do with the Holidays (and people should check out my “Happy Christmas Poem” on this blog for a good laugh and healthy ID with the sentiments of this longass work).  But I found myself really longing for death, and that I just wanted to end the suffering.  I now understand that the suffering I’m undergoing is that of bidding adieu to this aspect of myself, the vEmpire part of Richard. 

And to add to the feelings today I skimmed Carolyn Baker’s response to Rob Hopkins’ reaction to the critique of the Transition movement offered by one of the US’s leading lights of transition.  Wow, the world certainly swirls in surprise and awareness these days.  For me it’s another piquant and intriguing confirmation of the path I seek to discover for myself and for my peeps along the path of heart and soul through these times o’ tumult. 

I pray the way forward becomes clear, and that I have the strength, resiliency and buoyant cheer to be the attraction I seek.  Krom Kruach make it so! (krach mech ti bruach.)

Changing Relationships with the Cities October 27, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical, Personal Journey.
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Since I moved now to Rensselaer, I’ve become aware that my relationships with both Albany and Troy have shifted quite a bit. Because I worked downtown and have since ankled the soul-suck job, I have an understandable hesitancy about heading down that way again.  I have an assignment from my favorite Willow Goddess to visit every day for an hour a day for 2 weeks, to begin when I was ready.  I started that yesterday, and on the way to the park, I found I wanted to avoid being seen by anyone from any of my old jobs.  It’s funny, but I was on Pearl Street for a couple of minutes last week, and I walked past someone I used to work with, and it was like she didn’t recognize me.  I was sort of glad about that, and hopeful even.

The City of Albany is a bigger place than just that State-Pearl-Broadway corridor.  That is the epicenter of the place, but I find it’s occluded by all the bidness tealings that are going on down there.  All of that excess negative energy gets in the way of hearing the City’s vibrant soul.  It’s been just all that I can do to check in with Aurora Petra Majesta, and every once in awhile, Cappy at the top of the hill to say “Hey deah!”  I found myself looking at the city wistfully as I drove in on Route 32 and realizing that I no longer was in the same place.

Likewise with Troy, and I feel an odd sense that I was really never meant to put down roots there.  That while I was meant to live there for a time, that I wasn’t meant to stay there and that I can see this in retrospect is interesting to me because I really didn’t understand that in the time in lived in Little Italy.  I acted as if I was supposed to be there, but in the intervening time since the Breakup, it’s become more and more apparent that Troy served its catalyzing purpose of parting what wasn’t resonant to begin with.

The metallic nature of Troy worked to slice the relationship in twain, and to leave the two of us as single again.  That’s just the way of it.  Now I’ve left the place and while I sort of miss it, I do love this new place I’ve moved to.  In fact, though I sense I’m heading ultimately into a forest community of some sort, I wonder if there’s a way I’ll be able to hold onto this location.  It’s a piece of the puzzle to ponder.

I think that as life continues on, my relationship with Albany will deepen in profound ways.  I have this vision of myself way in the future as an Elder Shaman, walking down Broadway amidst the ruins of the former capital of the Empire State.  I sense that the notion of the U.S.A. is a quaint memory of times gone by, held in reverence mixed with spite.  That the place now is in a different relationship with its denizens, and I’m taking a nostalgic stroll along the pathway I walked each day for a time to attend to one of my soul-sucks.  I keep walking up B’way and turn up Livingston and head as if up to Albany Memorial because I’m visiting a family that needs my Elder/shaman aid.  I wear a cape, no shirt, a sarong, sandals.  It’s a bright and cold December day, no snow on the ground and none expected.  I seem to be all right with the bluster and reveling in the sun.  It’s an image I’ve long had, and I don’t know where it fits in, how it fits in with the future I’m imagining for myself.  But I know there’s an essential truth in it, and that Albany is in my blood.

Nine of Wands October 17, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
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In Stevee Postman’s Cosmic Tribe tarot deck, the 9 of wands is labeled “Community.”  When I first moved up to the Albany-Troy area, I associated this card with the yearning for a place where I feel like “they’ve got my back, and I’ve got others’ backs as well.”  I found it would come up every once in a while with readings involving the first company I worked with here, and sometimes I feel an odd nostalgia for that place.  Not that I wish to go back, but I did feel that there was some sort of nascent bonding there that had some pop.

More often than not, it refers to my dream these days.  When I do tarot readings for myself, I use a modified Celtic Cross.  I let the first card be the significator, and then “this covers me,” “this crosses me,” etc.  I also pay attention to the bottom card, and I use a relatively recent technique I learned at a witch camp where I add all the value cards together and reduce it to a number between 1 and 22 to get a Major Arcana card that links all the cards together.  The bottom card literally shows what is at bottom of the situation, oftentimes the bottom line.

Today, I visited Crandall Park in Glens Falls, New York, and the pine trees there invited me to take a reading for their insights into my situation.  The end result is the Heterosexual lovers card (Lesbian lovers was also in the reading, but in the leaving influence position), and on the bottom?  Yep.  9 of wands. 

It is stressed in literature about establishing community how difficult it is to form these elusive creatures of commonality.  One doesn’t go in with a recipe.  Instant community?  That’s like powdered water.  What do you add to it?

Dmitry Orlov and others have pointed out that community is oftentimes created out of necessity and circumstance.  Like in New Orleans during Katrina.  Communities and tribes basically formed spontaneously as the crisis unfolded, and the unlikeliest of people ended up bonding–just like in disaster movies!  I feel like we’re all collectively living on the set of a reality disaster series, but it’s like most people are unaware of the scenario. 

I do think that is changing, and my experiences over the past 2 months have encouraged me to develop a wider sense of hope and optimism.  Today, I choose to focus my energies on the most wonderful outcomes.  And I’ve alluded to this in the past on this blog, that I envision a place where I can walk out of my home after toweling off from a fresh shower, without any side trip to the bedroom “to get dressed.”  That the sky is enough of a suit for my glorious powerful self and it is to be shared and celebrated.  I have even gone so far in my visions to see myself wearing workboots (only!) and climbing up a ladder to the top of a house being built, to construct the roof. 

Those pine trees seem to have been saying to me, yes, yes.  The choices are coming and you can make them.  Some choices will be ones you would make anyway, and others may be a bit awkward, but it’s there.  The linking card (the Wheel) says to me that the magic of the times calls for this Work, these Powers to be unleashed.

And I’ve been doing it and celebrating my blessings all along the way.

http://www.cmt.com/videos/miranda-lambert/500805/the-house-that-built-me.jhtml

Honoring the Ancestral Identity of My Corpseorate “Self” October 6, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical.
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Today marks my rite of passage out of this mode of vEmpire participation.  I have been in a place of nascent awakening in this cocoon of denial that osmoses around us.  This miasma of etherICK.  In honor thereof, I decided to select my Santa tie (ho-ho-ho) to embrace this gift I’m giving myself.  I wanted actually to bring a sarong to work and wear it in the afternoon, but as I recently moved and things in my house are topsy-turvy (I can’t even locate my checkbook as of yet–St. Anthony find it for me stat!), this was not to be.  Nice idea though, still the Santa tie does the trick.

The dead identity has been hanging around me, and today he falls away.  The last little bit of chrysalis will find itself kicked into spirit compost and I will start a new pathway, starting this evening.  As would be fitting, I have the first fall meeting of my playwrights’ group tonight.  In between, I shall enjoy a dinner out as a further honor of this moment of choice.

True to form with job changes, my time at woyklez has been quite busy.  It has been a continued marvel to me how the environment of turbulence further confirms my choice each day.  I see very clearly that only a handful of people are meant to work the way that people around me this day go about their business, and the rest of us try to keep up with it, but start to feel less and less worthy as the mistakes pile up and the rework needs to be done, and then there’s more and more and more of this cockamamie.

Blech.

So.  I’ve created this space, this landing pad for myself for a little bit, and now I will start to share more of my impressions and true Trance-Formations that emerge from being close to the Hudson River and the landbase in and around Rensselaer.  Perhaps I should change the title of my blog to Hudson Trance-Formations–I don’t know.  Sounds too much like a lot of other Hudson websites, and it’s confusing too because there is a city to the southeast of us called Hudson. 

So far, my impression of the spirit of Rensselaer is that he is quite a handsome fellow, but one who is comfortable in the shadows.  He has no need to step out into the limelight, but I think he does feel a need to be honored and recognized for his observation skills.  This is but a first impression, but that’s what I think for the time being.

Off to another Workshop October 1, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, humor, Personal Journey.
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This time it’s the Man/Kind Project’s New Warrior Training.  Again at Easton Mountain.  I’m eager to get started on grooming the fierceness of this God.

“Power… Power will make me sleep.”  A line from My Very Worst Play Ever Or You Have to Break a Few Chekhovs to Make a Hamlette.  (By yours truly.  A truly BAAAAAAAAAAD script.  But with male nudity!)

Being a Generalist July 16, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
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Many years ago, when I was relatively new to working an 8-hour/day job, I took a training at the central facility for the company I worked for at the time (at the worst job I’ve ever held), and I was in a group with a couple of older employees.  I was in my mid-20s, and I was pretty much a newbie in more ways than one.  At the time I had such a feeling of entitlement, and I was contemptuous of the manner in which I was having to conduct my life.  “Couldn’t people see my Genius?” yada-yada-tiresome-yada.

Well, one of these older employees said something that I knew I had to file in the back of my mind, but I didn’t realize what the gem of it was.  She said “I have come to realize that I am a generalist, and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.”  Instinctively, I knew what she meant.  It’s taken a good almost 20 years though to realize that statement also applied to me.

I would love to be a world-famous playwright/screenwriter/novelist, etc.  But it’s not a single-minded focus as it has been for others.  I’ve tried it, but I just don’t have that thing, that propulsive and explosive desire that thrusts me into the forefront.  I love, love, love to write.  I do.  But I love other things as much, and perhaps even more.  I love to feel like I’m adding to a better way of living.  I love being able to spend long hours in nature.  I love cooking healthy food.  Love to make love with my partner.  Gardening.  Playing scrabble, learning a new language.  Meeting an interesting, kind person.  Awakening to everyday beauty, and putting it into a poem or a blog post.  Doing magic, talking with the Gods and angels and other entities.  Life holds such deliciousness.

So how can I not be a generalist, really?  And so I work as a legal assistant in a dying empire, and eagerly anticipate such an occasion.  When civilization gives up its clutch on the throttle and culture returns to the fore, as it does again and again.  For me, a revolution has already happened.  I’m holding space for y’all out there who awaken to the true nature of things and understand that it’s a grand thing that all this can’t last.  That something more appropriate and life-sustaining will necessarily explode onto the scene and push away the ineffective and the obstructive.   The mindlessly destructive and obstinately and militantly ign’ant.  (Perhaps they’ll be “raptured” into Estupo-world?) 

Quite a bit that isn’t working in my life isn’t meant to.  They are meant to say “Uh, no, Richard.  Not this way, find another path.”  So I end up at some point, releasing those struggles, even though it means others become alienated.  That’s their issue.  My own resentments are my own bugaboos, and I won’t take anyone else’s on. 

Today I embrace that generalist attidude that welcomes and embraces–that’s the descriptivist inside me.  I want all the flavors.

Hitting bottom, culturally July 15, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical, Personal Journey.
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Today I read that James Hillman noted that the difference between civilization and culture is that the former is dead and relies on control and fear, while the latter is alive and must continually change and breathe and become something new.  Let me take it a step further and suggest that culture will tend to wipe out the civilized over time, otherwise cvilization will kill culture when it finds it.

Of course that is pretty much impossible, really.  Witness our obsession with weeds and pests and waste.  These things are actually defects if we step back from our civilized mindset.  My partner and I have decided to let certain “weeds” grow in our garden and lawn, unless they get in the way of other plants.  We allow dandelions, lamb’s quarters and plantains.  There are other things we remove–volunteer maples, unidentified potential trees, grass, volunteer violets, and for the summer at any rate, clover, since it gets into everything.  But we do for the most part love many of our weeds.

There are competitors for our food–a squirrel that got into our broccoli, a few bugs and slugs, ants and maggots.  I won’t call them pests, but I don’t want them eating the food we have planted for our table either.  It’s a ruthless competition that nature sets up, and we get to use our brains to go into the conflict and make sure our garden is all right.

We compost most of our leavings, though I’m conscious of the fact I generate some trash.  I’ve seen other people generate a lot more, but I really would like to get it down to nothing.  Pretty much, it’s just a tall kitchen bag full from week to week.  The trash is mostly packagijng, alas.  But there are leavings we choose not to compost, such as corn cobs.  We’ve heard that potatoes are problematic as well, so if I have ones I’ve left for too long, they go into the trash r/t the compost.  Also our cats’ litter goes in the ashelly trasheltrash as well.

I’d like to begin to apply these concepts to the structural detritus looming.  I don’t know exactly when it started, but I’ve been sort of a secessionist for decades.  When I lived in Denver, a part of me really wanted to see all urban areas secede from the country.  Other people pointed out to me that this wasn’t a wise thing, but I had pretty much culturally seceded from the National League vs. American Division vs. Hollywood vs. Main Street vs. JehovahSatan vs. The Golden Girls stuff during that time.  And I’ve come to see Us vs. Them as the ultimate Fix.  Witness Mel Gibson and Sarah Palin, division addicts extreme.

One can’t build a community on “We’ve got to go to war against Them’ns!”  And yet our entire society is based on that basic toxic addictive belief.  Why else would war and death on a mass scale become the basis of our financial system?  How else can a psychopathic 1% enlist a fear and rage and control-based 14% to keep the other 85% at bay other than by the hysterical fingerpointing at supposed enemies who are really nothing more than other me’s?  Why does the reptile brain insist on going to war with the reproductive and digestive systems, enlisting the arm and leg muscles in the process?  I mean, if we’re talking about the body politic and the 1% is the reptile brain, then this way of looking at it is valid.  One part of the body has decided another part is a weed or a cancer.  The reptile brain just doesn’t like that alimentary canal — excretion? Horrors!  And the reproductive system?  Well, we don’t need that because Armageddon is is the ultimate in orgasmatronic bliss! “Come Jesus, blow us all away with your bullets of luhhhv!” …. OK, step away from the control panel now.

To some extent, I too am infected with this diseased thinking.  And I’m inside the Matrix, the vEmpire of which I have spoken much in this blog.  It is a dead thing and a murderous thing and a thing so deeply in pain that it medicates itself with ineffective drugs all the time.  Anything but to face its demise head on, and I feel that this humongous oil spill is an image and a reflection of this state of affairs working on so many levels as to boggle the mind. 

Are we done yet?  Have we hit bottom yet?  There are the crazies who seem to be determined to drive the clown car off the cliff.  And there are others of us who are trying to hold to a different frequency, and to some extent I think we do have an effect.  And it serves to make the nutcases even nuttier.  The only prayer that works is “May you know God[ Herself}’s will for you.”  I translate that for others to mean “May your sexual potency increase.”  For people who are at war with their own sexuality, as well as with everyone else’s, this prayer of God’s will for them  Does. Not. Compute. Explode. Head. Now.

Some people don’t have a bottom, and the rest of us have to get out of the way of them.  In some cases, in order to protect others and ourselves, we will be required to wrest the controls from these individuals.  Some of them won’t go down without a fight.  We need to understand that.  But try as they may to control the awakening of others and trying to cut off any avenue toward it, they are just SOL really.  For spirituality and soulfulness are like those lamb’s quarters and dandelions I mentioned.  They just keep popping up.  So what if you clip a few here and there–you don’t get rid of them.  And they will outlast you and I. 

In any case, I’m Richard/Frostwolf and I am compulsively civilized.  I am powerless over the death/fear/control based machine system and my life has become unmanageable.  Hey, how ya doin’?

Solvency, FIRE Economy and Currency Shift July 14, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
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For the past month or so, I’ve been “keeping my numbers,” tallying my expenses and then reporting them to an outside observer.  I have come to see I spend way too much money on things like soda and coffee.  And I’m really starting to look at my grocery purchases as well, looking at how I can reduce my spending in that area so that I might “become an adult” about money.  The bulk of my paycheck goes to debt repayment, and I do need to pay attention to that for spiritual reasons.  It’s difficult however, always to know where the priorities need to be. 

And it’s all moving in a current towards the waterfall as the Finance Insurance Real Estate (FIRE) economy starts to sputter into the ashes of having consumed all that’s out there to consume.  Oh, to be sure there are the pollution, starvation, poverty, debt-servitude, genocide and slavery futures to look forward to.  That might read like a joke.  but there are such things as CDS’s and other financial WMDs.  Basically stock market gamblers investorss have been placing bets on companies to go belly up, and are starting to do so on countries and UINOSA states as well as a municipalities.  And let’s not forget that some people stood to make money off of 9-11, but they could never dare come forward to claim their lilthy fucre.

Each day when I’m putting out my various prayers in my garden, I pray to have the financial wherewithal in this volatile and imploding economy as well as in all economies emerging.  Many hopeful possibilities are being batted about hither and yon.  Slow money, alternative currencies, etc.  These conversations help to start to frame what economics really is supposed to be about, as in direct relation to ecology.  They both have to do with our home and how we use what is around us.  For far too long we’ve looked at our world as a collection of stuff to do with as we please.  Rather selfish and self-destructive ultimately, seeing as all sorts of shenanigans creep in when we stop considering that the ants and the weeds, the wolves and the otters are our relations. 

We are all one.  But we mistreat ourselves in the guise of the other.

I keep my numbers, and while I don’t think it’s a fruitless pursuit, I do wonder about this whole money-debt synonymous status.  The money in my pocket was probably lent into being, and therefore doesn’t really hold all that much meaning.  Sure, I can use it to purchase goods and services, but it feels somewhat “dead” to me.  At least not as much of a living possiblity as it is to barter or trade goods for my services, or vice versa. 

There are patterns of cleaning up after myself and others surrounding me–totally Pluto in Virgo stuff.  Transform the muck into something useful.  I work with others today to transform my relationsihp with money, but also money itself.  Let us all pray to help the terminal idea of lending money into being into the grave.  Let us give rise to an economy that has a different basis, one that is tied to working with mother earth and a healthy regard for our places of living, loving and being.  We need an economy that works to form and maintain the life we all want to lead, letting those who would rather make their lilthy-fucre from exploitation begin to exploit each other.  (Let’s see how that cannibalism feeds itself–might be amusing!)

2012: Time for Change Preview/Panel Discussion in NYC last night July 9, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Poem-A-Day.
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I got off the Megabus and beelined for Boston Market for a cheap dinner.  I had time to kill, so I walked over to 6th Avenue, thinking I’d go to the B&N that was on 6th and 22nd. 

Well, it’s GONE!  To become Trader Joe’s on Monday.  Hmph.

Anyway, I did go to the Union Square one, then booked over to SVA to get in line.  Ran into some old buddies from a 12-step fellowship in line, and sat with them.

Watched the film, and I must say I enjoyed much of it.  Reminded me a lot of What a Way to Go: Life at the End of Empire by Tim & Sally Erickson, due to the whole thing being a personal journey sort of narrative.  Daniel Pinchbeck tells his story, and features his one stint on Colbert, which was hilarious I must say, even if it mocked the 2012 people.

I personally believe as one of the interviewees does, that 2012 is but a signpost.  Whether we as a species live or die at that time isn’t really the issue, it’s what we do in the lead-up.  Do we finally surrender and discover the right use of our wills?  Or do we keep on doing the insane things of demanding our world be a certain way and getting more and more shrill and violent when things go the way they go?

The film did give some focus to the 2012 doom crowd.  (I like to use the word “Doom” ironically, because I wish for the civilization’s doom, but so the human race might survive the onslaught a-coming.)  Pretty much everyone interviewed remarked that the choice is up to each individual, and it will pretty much go with how they view it. 

The panel discussion afterward featured Sting and Pinchbeck of course, as well as a native guy T. Ghosthorse (I didn’t get his first name, alas), Paul Stamets, a yoga expert named Ganga, and the film’s director Joao Amorim.  Interviewees included Penny Livingston of permaculture fame, Gilberto Gil, David Lynch, Ellen Page (!), Dean Radin, Dennis McKenna, Barbara Marx Hubbard, and others. 

One thing I need to remark on, a personal sense of judgment I felt.  I decided just to wear a polo shirt and shorts to the event.  Some people were dressed for work–they’d obviously knocked off for the day.  Some were people who were “walking their talk,” and they were dressed “weird,” but that was who they were.  But I noticed a lot of people really dressed up and a few who were trying a bit too hard to fit in.  I felt pain around these sorts of people, because it reminded me of the bar scene.

Ew.

Anyway, the really interesting thing was that the most questions went to Mr. Stamets, who brought a bunch of kits to grow one’s own trees in cardboard boxes.  It sounded quite interesting and cool to try and do, but it was only for those in NYC.  (Not that I was interested in that–we’ve got lots o’ trees up north, molto grazie.)  He also brought a bag of mycellium and straw which he explained was for the Gulf of Mexico, to help transform the oil there.  That was one of the fascinating parts of the movie, mycoremediation. 

(Since my last name is Morell, I have a little bit of a soft spot in my heart for die shroombahs! Richard means stern king, so I could be the Stern ‘Shroom King, n’est-ce pas?)

Sting got a couple of questions.  He talked of his ayahuasca experience.  Something I didn’t know about these drugs used in African/South American rituals, is that with supervision, they can help with depression and addiction, among other things.  Part of me longs to have an ayahuasca experience, but I won’t.  Still, in light of my previous blog postings about grief vs. depression, it’s something I’m pondering.

It gets to be a bit frustrating in the Q&A’s to hear people asking “why didn’t you include this?”  Well, editorial choice is up to the director.  There’s all sorts of things the film raised that could make their own interesting films.  (The creation of a green roof for example.)

I stayed around until it was time for me to walk up to Penn Station.  I was glad to have gone, and I wonder what more will come from it.  Perhaps some of this will finally spread up into the Capital Region.

For me the most memorable line of the night:  Mr. Ghosthorse said “I don’t know about you, but I’m really looking forward to the days after America.  It hasn’t been so good for us.”  (Mr. Ghosthorse is a Lakota elder with a show on WBAI.)  He invited people to come to their ceremonies.

I
really
want
to
take
him
up
on
that.

I Ching Divination over the weekend June 3, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail.
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#46 “Pushing Upward” leading to #18 “Work on What Has Been Spoiled”

Changing line:  He does not serve kings and princes.  He sets higher goals.

Afterward there is order.  Supreme Success.  Furthers one to cross the great water.  Before I start, 3 days.  After I start, 3 days.

In accordance with the time. Proper Deliberation (3 days).

To do away with corrupt, a superior man must regenerate society.

Remove stagnation by stirring up public opinion.

Strengthen and tranquil-ize the character of the people.

*****

Sounds a lot like CJD (Cultural Janitorial Detail) to me!  So it begins.