Hi
Bro Dan,
all good. Envelope? Yes, i had to ask P.O. for a bit of cellotape cos the glue on my stack of envelopes dried up due to people not writing real letters any more. Even the odd chance that it does stick, i usually finger the corners to make sure. So nothing suspicious there.
Phew... Zud Afrique ! No wonder 'Desteni-Woman' shaved her head and channeled archons pretending to be dead popstars. Bad enough having to accurately diagnose the mental condition of the paleface refugee experiment across the big pond where Atlantis sank and they're still re-enacting the trauma and arresting people for having edible gardens of the wrong shape and height and kids for having toy guns and peeing in the roses without a permit. Something seriously amiss there. No place like Fodhla despite fluoride bars and cloned clan politix. But then, consensus 'reality' never did grab me as being anything more than an amateur faded hologram. Don't have to squint too hard to see through it.
No, collective neurosis apart, i just get on with heating up my lovely living room so i can sit at the table, drink tea and more 'meticulously' than posterity could ever suspect, apply inspired paint science to my traced and trusting spotless virgin canvas and never mind nations or any other inane infantile notions. Infants have more sense anyway, at least before they're got at.
(Pause for a dioxin-free tea bag break).
Besides, the obvious way to stay well is drink well water (not unwell water) and how many people know, that black tea flushes out sexual hormone disruptors anyway. Give 'em a good tannin i say! Of course i knew my intuition was right. What else is it for?
Have to confess to being perpetually (is it nonplussed or plussed?) by what goes on and off everywhere. I'm just glad i'm not everywhere, at least all at once, but then, who am i to speculate? And at least (though it's a lot more than that) it's perfect where i am, so i stay there, even when i go out.
Glad for bits of coloured paper that help get new jeans or shoes, 'currency', i think they call it. Has to do with energy flows, currents etc. I had a dream the other night about having to scrounge a pair of shoes. Terrible lack of celestial dreams. I use them all up before i get anywhere near a bed.
More articles? Already? Only just put down my pen. About to pick up a brush (i only use one. I look after them pretty good.)
Articles, or at least the key titles come to me when i pick up the brush. Funny,that. And they said the pen was mightier and how would they know anyway, they never use either.
So, maybe this email has once again come to my rescue by itself and transmuted into the next first blog post for March. March on, ides and all.
There's a lot more outrageously magical recent happenings i could relate. But the room's warming up and my brush is crying out to be held, a common complaint it seems. Never been the same since the cross worshippers took over but sod'em, and g'morrow and good luck, they'll need it, but i wouldn't count on it. All they do is make me a little cross. Not to mention "Gladly, the little cross-eyed bear", as my mother used to say, in all innocence.
Or, as Kevin Annett (Eagle Strong Voice) put it so aptly:
"Do the clergy do more than lay people?"
A good note to end on. But i'm just preaching to the choir, Earth forbid ! Dog nose.
Save this, it might come in handy.
I just clicked 'save' so i don't need saving.
Thanks. ~~~~ Rainbowmaker.
P.S. When you need to get a little cross, just go: +++++++++++++++++++++++ and click 'save'.
all good. Envelope? Yes, i had to ask P.O. for a bit of cellotape cos the glue on my stack of envelopes dried up due to people not writing real letters any more. Even the odd chance that it does stick, i usually finger the corners to make sure. So nothing suspicious there.
Phew... Zud Afrique ! No wonder 'Desteni-Woman' shaved her head and channeled archons pretending to be dead popstars. Bad enough having to accurately diagnose the mental condition of the paleface refugee experiment across the big pond where Atlantis sank and they're still re-enacting the trauma and arresting people for having edible gardens of the wrong shape and height and kids for having toy guns and peeing in the roses without a permit. Something seriously amiss there. No place like Fodhla despite fluoride bars and cloned clan politix. But then, consensus 'reality' never did grab me as being anything more than an amateur faded hologram. Don't have to squint too hard to see through it.
No, collective neurosis apart, i just get on with heating up my lovely living room so i can sit at the table, drink tea and more 'meticulously' than posterity could ever suspect, apply inspired paint science to my traced and trusting spotless virgin canvas and never mind nations or any other inane infantile notions. Infants have more sense anyway, at least before they're got at.
(Pause for a dioxin-free tea bag break).
Besides, the obvious way to stay well is drink well water (not unwell water) and how many people know, that black tea flushes out sexual hormone disruptors anyway. Give 'em a good tannin i say! Of course i knew my intuition was right. What else is it for?
Have to confess to being perpetually (is it nonplussed or plussed?) by what goes on and off everywhere. I'm just glad i'm not everywhere, at least all at once, but then, who am i to speculate? And at least (though it's a lot more than that) it's perfect where i am, so i stay there, even when i go out.
Glad for bits of coloured paper that help get new jeans or shoes, 'currency', i think they call it. Has to do with energy flows, currents etc. I had a dream the other night about having to scrounge a pair of shoes. Terrible lack of celestial dreams. I use them all up before i get anywhere near a bed.
More articles? Already? Only just put down my pen. About to pick up a brush (i only use one. I look after them pretty good.)
Articles, or at least the key titles come to me when i pick up the brush. Funny,that. And they said the pen was mightier and how would they know anyway, they never use either.
So, maybe this email has once again come to my rescue by itself and transmuted into the next first blog post for March. March on, ides and all.
There's a lot more outrageously magical recent happenings i could relate. But the room's warming up and my brush is crying out to be held, a common complaint it seems. Never been the same since the cross worshippers took over but sod'em, and g'morrow and good luck, they'll need it, but i wouldn't count on it. All they do is make me a little cross. Not to mention "Gladly, the little cross-eyed bear", as my mother used to say, in all innocence.
Or, as Kevin Annett (Eagle Strong Voice) put it so aptly:
"Do the clergy do more than lay people?"
A good note to end on. But i'm just preaching to the choir, Earth forbid ! Dog nose.
Save this, it might come in handy.
I just clicked 'save' so i don't need saving.
Thanks. ~~~~ Rainbowmaker.
P.S. When you need to get a little cross, just go: +++++++++++++++++++++++ and click 'save'.
Full Moon Camera Shots by danann
25 & 26 Feb 2013
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