Pooters and Plantings.

On Thu, Apr 11, 2013 at 8:09 PM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Minseach,

(Gaelic for 'she goat', pr. 'minshuk') and that was today's Gaelic lesson.

Otherwise, customary kin greetings und kongratz an dein pooterdoktor und sein triumph in fixing your smokesignal typewriter.

It's nice to get a letter (i've always been a man of letters) i really don't get many.  That's an Anglo Saxon understatement which i'll elucidate later (not that i'm suffering from elucidations mind.)

Not so much that i'd said to Friends i was "projectless", rather to describe a bit the nature of my creative process which being receptive consists constantly in the concept of 'waiting' (being a self trained 'waiter' and watcher), a bit like those hunters who sit quietly in one spot and go invisible till the animals all come out.

Goes on all the 'time', everywhere i look.  Studying and discriminating what pops up without leaping at anything so to squeak.

Suppose that's why they say Taureans are always ruminating, or you could call it gestating. ('Many a true word is said in gestating.)

In fact (whatever a 'fact' is) i just returned from the photocopyshop where i enlarged a Wiltshire sunset image to canvas size for sizing, fixing, and enriching

through maleable substance to distil an essence.

The title of which would be 'Along the Canal.'

Simultaneously, audiovisual clues from the cyberscreen seulement le soir dernier stirred sporadic seedsprouts of a potential blogpost tentatively titled ( as i scrawled on the steamy glass cubicle of a 4a.m. contemplative hot shower) 'LIFE'S INFINITE' and anagramming it so it was 13 letters).

Which brings me back circumlocuitously to letters, and the perennial enigma of why don't people write them.  Is that why they're called 'snail mail'?  They are slow to reply if at all.

After all, there's 26 letters to play with and they can be in any order of permutation so long as a mind picture is imparted.

Consequently despite being quite outgoing every time i go out and with a predisposition to only sow seeds of totally untainted nutritive nature, and despite my tales of diversified interactions mingling on the market, i'm still and perennially prone to a sense of relatively prevailing solitariness.

I suppose every oyster has a bit of grit, not that i'm shellfish.  I'm well aware that such residues of detritus are part and parcel of potential provocation to populous peopling planets to freely choose to produce pearls.

Put simply: that's what the residue of dark is for.  A simple signpost in a freewill zone.

That way > 'Home is where the heart IS.'

The other way < 'Wandering lost in the dark.'

Long live simple signposts.  You'd think more people would notice them.

I did have a couple of emails with Roisin, she being into astrology.  As i'd searched high and low through boxes and papers not being able to locate my birthchart, i used to have two.

You know that common pattern where the one thing you've looked for in all the 'safe places' seems to have slipped into another dimension.

A good exercise in being infinitely patient with finite impatience though.

Sparked by hearing a woman on 'starseedhotline.com' having done years of research to discover that 25, 26, and 27, degrees of planets' placement in a chart was indicative of a long standing coding in the blood since the 'fall of Atlantis', of an inherent connection to a fail safe benevolent Pleiadian/ Human agenda.  If you get the gist.

Roisin kindly put me on to a website providing instant free birthcharts.  Turns out i have 5 or 6 planets out of 9 in that degree.  Fluffy or not, it assuaged my curiosity.  I'm sure we all feel a little alien from time to time.

Talking of feeling little aliens, not to mention a soul partner and considering a global population of what, seven billion and more than half of them, the polar complementary gender ( just imagine that amount of spiritual beauty) phew!  Little wonder then, snail mail notwithstanding, if i'm, (seriously) and long have been,

unflinchingly more than ready to happily invite a Pleiadian woman for a leisurely fireside chat over a cup of tea.  I mean, it's a free universe.

Just that down here we've been a bit cut off for a while, a bit otherwise occupied you could say.

But there's a subject for another day.

After all, the 'material world', as we're trained to call it, is only a tiny facet of the infinite all there is.

The power of IMAGINATION is an item of our tool kit we'd be cosmically foolish to ignore.  You might easily take a wrong turning at the two way signpost for want of imagining something beyond the familiar.

To round off this post, and to stimulate the imaginative faculty, i feel inclined to recommend listening to video interviews with a neurosurgeon by the name of EBEN ALEXANDER.  If you do, you'll see why.

I've played with enough words for today, and language is not the most effective way to share experience.

Besides it's 'ten to eight'..."again!" ( It keeps being ten to eight synchronistically for at least the past 35 years).

For instance, i was just writing about 'the Ides of March', and what an 'Ide' is.

Most 'ides' occur on the 13th of each month ( according to the Roman Calendar.  Except for April, when the date is the 15th.  April is my birth month.

While on the 13th of March, the rays of the setting sun reflecting on my clock from the window across the street (which i'd been noting regularly), was at exactly 'ten to eight!'

Anyway...down to Earth.  Light fire.  Cook food.  Consider starting new painting.

That'll do as a solid post.
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rainbowmaker