Many thumbs up to you and all the wondrous energy you channel to make creative joy for us!
Monday, September 21, 2015
Friday, September 18, 2015
Thursday, September 10, 2015
8/15 Lake Feast
I made the stir fry, as usual...
Mushrooms, broccoli, onions, carrots, green and red bell peppers,
red kidney beans, sesame tofu, lemon juice, sage, soy sauce, and so on...
with some kale and a quinoa/rice blend...
A friend made some chicken...
Another friend added delicious roasted potatoes with olive oil and rosemary...
And we all ate happily ever after...
...Until we got hungry again
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
I finally started reading the memoirs of my favorite writer, Mr. Tom Robbins, a couple weeks ago. Recently, I've been at the parts where he finally publishes a few novels, which has been encouraging. I've also rediscovered what it is to laugh out loud while reading a book.
Most of the stories are new to me, but some of them I've heard before. Then again, he's revealed a few new delightful details in this book. When he became one of the first people in Seattle to open the doors of perception through an observed study with a university professional, the scientist had suggested he bring a musical album with him that he might enjoy during the experience. I was surprised to learn that Tom was a huge fan of Errol Garner, and had brought Concert by the Sea with him. He also went inside of a daisy. A big fan of metaphors, he emphasized that he literally went inside the flower:
When my eyes reached the end/beginning of the spiral, reached the very most pinpoint center of the yellow crown, I abruptly went inside the daisy! That is, my consciousness entered the daisy. Obviously, my cowboy/banker body remained slouched in the armchair, but for an indeterminate number of seconds or even minutes, my entire conscious being was literally--literally--inside that flower.
I've seldom told this story, all too aware that even a friendly listener was likely to judge me either dishonest or nuts. Those I have trusted to accept the account at face value have invariably asked, "What was it like in there? Inside a daisy?" My answer: "Like a cathedral made of mathematics and honey." Ambiguous, I know, but that's the best I can do. I cautioned you, remember, that the psychedelic experience does not readily lend itself to verbal communication. It was voluminous in there, a kind of parallel universe flooded with sweet golden light enlivened by vaporous progressions of abstract symbols that seemed to assign numerical value to the various magnitudes, tones, and patterns of chi, the energy that courses through all living things. See what I mean? A cathedral made of mathematics and honey seems to best sum it up.
At any rate, a physical description is not what really matters here. The important thing is the knowledge I took away from the event, namely the realization that every daisy that exists--every single daisy in every single field--has an identity just as strong as my own! I assure you a revelation such as that cannot help but change one's life. It altered my view of the natural world and my place within it, top to bottom, and for weeks thereafter I could not see a daisy in a window box or someone's yard without getting tears in my eyes. The reader is free, of course, to ridicule, scoff, or try to explain it away, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
He would produce his first novel about half a decade after worshiping at the church of math honey. He's been making people like me feel very happy and more connected to the generating mystery of the universe ever since. That's a spectacular reason for jumping into the publishing lake
Most of the stories are new to me, but some of them I've heard before. Then again, he's revealed a few new delightful details in this book. When he became one of the first people in Seattle to open the doors of perception through an observed study with a university professional, the scientist had suggested he bring a musical album with him that he might enjoy during the experience. I was surprised to learn that Tom was a huge fan of Errol Garner, and had brought Concert by the Sea with him. He also went inside of a daisy. A big fan of metaphors, he emphasized that he literally went inside the flower:
When my eyes reached the end/beginning of the spiral, reached the very most pinpoint center of the yellow crown, I abruptly went inside the daisy! That is, my consciousness entered the daisy. Obviously, my cowboy/banker body remained slouched in the armchair, but for an indeterminate number of seconds or even minutes, my entire conscious being was literally--literally--inside that flower.
I've seldom told this story, all too aware that even a friendly listener was likely to judge me either dishonest or nuts. Those I have trusted to accept the account at face value have invariably asked, "What was it like in there? Inside a daisy?" My answer: "Like a cathedral made of mathematics and honey." Ambiguous, I know, but that's the best I can do. I cautioned you, remember, that the psychedelic experience does not readily lend itself to verbal communication. It was voluminous in there, a kind of parallel universe flooded with sweet golden light enlivened by vaporous progressions of abstract symbols that seemed to assign numerical value to the various magnitudes, tones, and patterns of chi, the energy that courses through all living things. See what I mean? A cathedral made of mathematics and honey seems to best sum it up.
At any rate, a physical description is not what really matters here. The important thing is the knowledge I took away from the event, namely the realization that every daisy that exists--every single daisy in every single field--has an identity just as strong as my own! I assure you a revelation such as that cannot help but change one's life. It altered my view of the natural world and my place within it, top to bottom, and for weeks thereafter I could not see a daisy in a window box or someone's yard without getting tears in my eyes. The reader is free, of course, to ridicule, scoff, or try to explain it away, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
He would produce his first novel about half a decade after worshiping at the church of math honey. He's been making people like me feel very happy and more connected to the generating mystery of the universe ever since. That's a spectacular reason for jumping into the publishing lake
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