Photography by Tracy Marshall
Editorial X” Marks the Spot
by Éric P. Lemoine
hat’s all the fuss about this “X” on the cover, you may wonder.
You would be right to ask. It is not innocent that we used the roman numeral for this issue of Wisp. There are certain emotions that some symbols convey with less effort than others, even if they are supposed to represent the same concept, and this one is no exception. What do you feel when you write an “X”? It doesn’t look like as innocuous as a stroke and a round (10) does it? The cross seems to have subtle implications, it is disruptive of a comfortable cycle, and it indicates some change. If you pay attention, you will probably notice some of these changes in Wisp. The size, the layout, many of the already familiar markers have shifted, and yet everything still looks mostly like it was. We may reassure you, it’s all for a reason… or is it really? Truth is, many things happen in a synchronistic way, and you may or may not listen to what your impulses are at the moment, but one thing is sure; you’ll only know what you are gaining once you’ve listened to them and acted upon them. The game doesn’t know any other rules —otherwise the rewards wouldn’t be as great. About a month ago, while working on the third book compilation of the last Wisp issues, it occurred to me that it demanded a lot of effort and that it was not really a fi t to the demand. A question was looming for a while: how to make it more efficient and an exciting venture for all involved? contributors, readers… regardless of monetary issues, as unlike other magazines, this not Wisp’s primary concern. So I started making it more simple, streamlining the process where it could be done, and trying to give the next issue the time it required to reﬂect enough change to be a worthy new cycle of issues. As all slowly started to move towards a new issue, there was still frustration lingering, mainly because the last book wouldn’t print despite all efforts, and it was reinforcing that feeling of weariness. One of those funny pseudo Chinese proverbs I particularly like says something like “You’re the closest to your goal when you’re about to abandon.”
Email for inquiries and submissions firstname.lastname@example.org Cover artist Tracy Marshall Design and publication Éric P. Lemoine
ISSN 1760-4796 Contributors to this issue Rob Arteman (USA) Dawn & Mark Brown (Australia) Jean Blenkhorn (USA) Mark C. Bukator (Canada) Rick Daddario (USA) Jean-Baptiste Duret (France) Marguerite Duret (France) Dale A Evans (USA) Mark Felder (USA) Brigitte Geisler (Germany) Pat Gerber (Switzerland) Daniel Gilliland (USA) Sheila Greer (USA) Sabine vom Hoff (Germany) Emily Judson (Australia) Bart Boy Kiamko (Philippines) Faro King (USA) Tracy Marshall (Spain) Sharon Mendenhall (USA) Grey Morgan (USA) Gayle Nabrotzky (USA) Anet Paulina (USA) Bill Pate (USA) Gordon Artrias Rosenberg (USA) Marcy Singer (USA) bob strating (USA)
We would love to hear from you Want to react on a published article, or submit your own? Contact us on the forum http://wisp.focusphere.net No part of this magazine may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher. The views expressed by the contributors are their own and do not necessarily represent those of Wisp e-zine.
Once again, it was true. In a matter of seconds, that final burst of frustration gave me the incentive to look for other means, and in a matter of seconds, I had a “perfect” answer coming up, despite searching previously to no avail. The next moment, the printer just as unexpectedly sent me an email that the book was printing at last. But it didn’t matter any longer, as I knew that new pathways were forming that wouldn’t require me to go to these lengths. So this issue is special, because it will be the first to be released as a real magazine, printed on demand for all to enjoy (currently only shipping in the US, Canada and U.K.) It would be misleading to say that the search for a new means of distribution (other than through the Internet) was the drive behind having a delayed issue. In a strictly cause-effect point of view, it would be a conveniently valid explanation, but it wouldn’t be true. Sometimes, we are feeling without a hint of a doubt that “change is in the air”. Not compromising with the comfort of old defective systems may be tough, although we could ask ourselves: can it be as simple as just doing without doubting?
Editorial, “X” Marks the Spot Éric P. Lemoine • p.2–3 Shifting Views Dale A Evans • p.5 Aquarius Elikozoe • p.6 Sabine vom Hoff • p.7
Brigitte Geisler & Tracy Marshall • p.8–9
Ice and Frost, photography
Arkandin, Mark Brown • p.10–11
Wisp Meditation Living in Two Worlds
Anet Paulina • p.13
Slow Wave, Reflections on the Writing Process Word Problems
Daniel Gilliland • p.14–16 Pat Gerber • p.17
The Guitar Dude Faro King • p.17 Hay Ride Sharon Mendenhall • p.18–20 Money is a Tool Sabine vom Hoff • p.21 Pearls From The Surf some websites of interest • p.21 I will wait for you bob strating • p.22 Green, photography Emily Judson • p.23 Human Puzzle Pieces Bill Pate • p.24 Ink Blots
Jean Blenkhorn • p.25 Mark C. Bukator • p.26–27
An Intriguing New Perspective Stones
Gayle Nabrotzky, Rick Daddario • p.28–29
Robotman’s Energy Exchange
Rob Arteman • p.30 Tracy Marshall • p.32
Glamour Bombs and Magical Surprises
Sheila Greer • p.33
Summer Storms and Front Porch Swings Self-Realization and the Body
Gordon Artrias Rosenberg • p.34–35
The Mysterious Doorway of Amaru Muru Mark Felder • p.36–39 Pisces Elikozoe • p.40 Abundance Bart Boy Kiamko • p.41 Tile of the Month Jean-Baptiste Duret • p.42 The Essence of Yum, Do it for the Kipper Marcy Singer • p.43
photography by Marguerite Duret
Shifting Views by Dale A Evans
wo houses over, the painters are blasting music. They have a sound system hooked up in the trunk of their car and it’s turned up loud. The bass shakes the cup on my table. The lyrics are something about a bitch riding him and him going in backdoors. Lovely. It’s 9:30 on a Sunday morning and I am not liking this. I think to turn some of my own music on louder. Perhaps some Georges Brassens, Paolo Conte or Maurice Chevalier. I’m feeling French today, plus I like the contrast to the music they’re playing. Hopefully it will piss them off.
Oh, I am opposing this creation! And although matching the energy with my own music sounds fun, it won’t generate what I really want. It was fun to think about, and would be fun to do if my motivation was different. But my motivation isn’t to create a battle. It’s to have quiet. I let these thoughts go and distract myself with email. Then I begin to notice I’ve been digging on the beat. I still don’t like the lyrics, but I can tune them out. But the beat, I’m liking it. I notice how moving my attention moved my perception. Something that was once a bone of contention is now a pleasure. Kinda. Now I feel myself getting all riled up again. The music itself and the loudness was one thing, but now I feel what I’m really pissed about. It’s rude and inconsiderate. How dare they impose their music on the whole neighborhood? Namely, me? They’re making us (me) into victims! And don’t they know that being considerate is something everyone should do? How dare they just make their choice with no regard for others? Indeed! Bing! There it is — my truth. Which of course I think all others should abide by, because I’m right! Ha! I expect it of them. And with these realizations one of the tenants walks out and the painter turns the music off to talk with him. It hasn’t been turned back on. And the painter is now backing out of the driveway and leaving.
Elias Session 1766
The colour theme for next Wisp will be “BLUE”. Send your submissions at email@example.com The best pictures will be published…
photography by Tracy Marshall
“Defining consideration may be quite tricky, for it varies with different individuals in relation to their beliefs. But the one commonality that is expressed in this term or this idea of consideration is that it shall be formulated in compliance with what YOU want and with what YOU do. Your definition, each of you, of consideration is quite strongly associated with your own actions, with whatever you do and with whatever you prefer. That becomes an expectation of consideration in association with another individual.” Dale A Evans is a Personal Reality Coach and Energy Worker at It All Begins Now.com
Aquarius, or “Water bearer” is the eleventh sign of the zodiac. A probable origin of the constellation’s symbol comes from ancient Babylon, as the sun was in this sign during the month of heavy rains. Interestingly, popular New Age beliefs of the Age of Aquarius see it in a more favourable light. Astronomically speaking, the definitions of the “ages” take their origin in a cycle called “precession of the equinox”. The Earth is in constant motion in space, turning around the sun and around itself. But due to the pull of the Moon combined with the Sun’s, the Earth’s spin is similar to that of a wobbling ball, and the Earth’s axis of rotation changes its orientation during time, tracing a conical shape taking roughly 26,000 years to complete (the Platonic year). This cycle has an interesting repercussion on our perception of the starry sky, because it gives the impression that the stars are shifting their position over time, not being still and permanent as one may think of, if we see it from our human life-span. That may be one of the many bones of contention between astronomers and astrologers, since (tropical) astrologers still refer to constellations which are shifting 1 degree every 72 years. When astrology was codified by the Babylonians and the Ancient Greeks the sun was actually in the constellation Aries at the vernal (spring) equinox (whereas it now is in Pisces). Technically, when one is said to be an Aquarius today, the Sun was in fact in the Capricornus constellation (the sidereal sign) at the time of the birth. While it may give headaches to some, it offers us the interesting notion of Ages, corresponding to 2,150 years, one twelfth of the complete cycle. The only issue left is to determine “where does this cycle start?”, given that the span of the constellations is not equal, some overlap others etc. Only one thing is sure, the point which is the moving cursor pointing at this continuous shift is now at the beginning of the Pisces constellation (returning to Aries in a retrograde motion). When does the Age of Aquarius start? Does it mean anything? It is safe to say it is up to one’s own interpretation, which isn’t such a bad thing after all.
by Sabine vom Hoﬀ
the Art of Conscious Creation
who is the Director of your movie? How do you feel today? Are you happy and satisfied with everything in your reality? When the answer is “yes”, go away, read another article! When your answer is “no” or “so-so”, you might find some useful information in the following. Uranus is the principle of ‘Creation’: the choices that we make. But these choices are not made in the outer world, they come from the inside. Let’s go back first to your state of beingness and answer yourself the following questions: Are you sometimes wondering that others determine your doings, or Are you sometimes wondering that others don’t do what you want them to do more often than before? In both cases, you are presenting to yourself the shift in relation to the power of creation, to choices, to directing self. The basic objective imagery for Uranus is electricity. We are magnets inside and electricity is the reﬂection in the outer world, translated through our perception. So, when electricity is the outer expression, what is the inner one?
Uranus is the ruler of Aquarius (21 Feb- 21 March)
How can you become aware of your own Uranian energy? And here is your million dollar/euro answer: by noticing and following your impulses, promptings, urges… regardless how ‘unimportant’ they may seem, regardless how insignificant they may seem, regardless how silly… how little related to your ‘every-day-duties’ and now it comes: regardless of how far away they might take you, from what you think would be ‘right’ for you to do now. The significant action which is expressed by ‘following’ those impulses, urges, promptings, is that you have been listening to yourself, that you don’t let your translation office (beliefs of duplicity) dictate to you your doings… This reinforces your trust in yourself, your allowance of experiencing abilities, you have never been thinking of… you get in your ﬂow… and you become The Director of your Movie, which generates all ‘Oscars’ in Hollywood, because you will be not only the Director, but also the Writer of the book, the Star of all performed protagonists (including the driver of your stretch-limo, the 3* cook of your catering-service, the lady/gentleman, taking care of your wardrobe, bathroom etc.) And you will know, they are all You's of You!
Photo credits: NASA
The Hidden Blue Ice Heart, photography by Brigitte Geisler
Ice and Frost photography
by Brigitte Geisler & Tracy Marshall
Frost on the Window, photography by Tracy Marshall
“Adversity draws men together and produces beauty and harmony in life's relationships, just as the cold of winter produces ice-ﬂowers on the windowpanes, which vanish with the warmth.” Søren Kierkegaard
(Danish philosopher and theologian, 1813–1855)
Urban Stonehenge, by Elikozoe
Wisp Meditation With this particular exercise be aware of your senses; allow yourself to be noticing of precisely what you feel within, and be aware of what is surrounding your physical body in this moment. [â&#x20AC;Ś] Give yourself permission to accept, to relax, and to enjoy. Now imagine that above your head is a sphere. This sphere is bright, glowing, golden green, so vivid and bright. Imagine this in your mind and see, hear and feel this energy. Take a deep breath in and let it out through your mouth.
proposed by Arkandin, channeled by Mark Brown
Continue for a few more breaths, breathing deeply into your abdominal area. Allow your stomach to expand to allow for even deeper breaths, still seeing, feeling and hearing this bright glowing sphere above your head.
With each deep breath more wisps of energy are drawn into your nose and into your body, delivering a powerful, soothing, relaxing energy to your energy centers, allowing for you to create a balance.
As you begin to breathe even deeper, each breath in through your nose draws wisps of energy from this sphere.
Notice especially that there is a greater amount of green energy moving to your green center, balancing and soothing.
Notice that these wisps have intertwined colour; beautiful, bright and vibrant; and that these wisps of energy as you breath them in separate and become directed to their corresponding energy centers within your body, the red to your red, orange to your orange.
Breathing in deeply and exhaling through your mouth, the energy that is not serving you anymore is being released out of your body, soothing and cleansing.
Breathing in the wisps of energy deeper, relax and allow your body to soften.
Whisper Zone Begin to notice now that as you breathe in that you continue to draw the colour from the sphere, that the deeper you breathe in the more energy enters into your body, distributing that energy within balance. Notice now that the sphere is starting to become brighter, become whiter, pure, as you draw the energies into your body. Feel, see and hear the energy connecting to all your energy centers. Feel yourself becoming lighter and lighter; your physical body begins to feel like it is expanding. Then you realise that in actuality your physical body is reducing. You are becoming more aware of energy; your energy is expanding and becoming lighter and lighter still, you become aware of this sense of knowing, appreciating your connections, your own energy mingling and twining with energies. What you are becoming aware of now is the awareness of love, the energies merging and ﬂowing through your energy so beautifully that you have completely forgotten about your breathing. Feel deeply into your energy, feel deeply into the power of yourself. Become aware of your love, deeper and deeper still, expanding your awareness. As this sphere above you starts to merge with the entirety that is you, take a moment now to allow yourself to explore; to become truly aware of your energies merging with others and that your own expression of love creates this balance, this total awareness of self, the unique beauty, the love that is you. With this awareness your energy widens, it expands, and you
begin to recognise that your energy is totally and utterly endless. You are aware that there is no limit to your love, to you. Continue to allow the expansion and the awareness.
Continue to become more aware of your breath, allowing for that relaxed state to remain within you.
Allow your body to be softened, relaxed, totally accepting.
Accept the energies that are around you: draw upon those energies, if you will, to allow for a greater awareness of no separation; becoming more aware of that acceptance, trusting the power of self. Allow yourself now to become more aware of your breathing, that you are breathing in pure energy and that you are breathing out pure energy.
Become more aware of your surroundings. Become more aware of your eyes, of your physical. Take one deep deep breath and breathe your breath out through your mouth, noticing your energy, so calm, beautiful and relaxed. More alert within the physical now, allow your body to move…
You are in this state: self, pure energy, glowing, vibrant. Allow yourself to become aware of your body, that your heart rate has slowed all the way down and you feel relaxed. You feel at ease with yourself because you have allowed for your self to open and become aware of your energy and the energies that you draw to yourself within that awareness of love, of no separation. Allow your body to become more solid, more physical.
Who is Arkandin? by Dawn Brown, at arkandin.com Arkandin is an essence Mark has been having an energy exchange with for some time. It became obvious to me that at times when I spoke to Mark that it was not always Mark who was answering me. He would have no recall of what was shared and would seem surprised when I told him things he had said. Eventually I would know that Arkandin was present just by the difference in the energy, even by Arkandin’s smile that is distinctly different from Mark’s own. Arkandin is focused in the future and has knowledge that is very helpful to us in this time of great change. He shares information with us about the nature of our reality from his unique viewpoint in direct continuation of the Seth and Elias materials.
Photography by Tracy Marshall
Living in Two Worlds by Anet Paulina
y friend’s diatribe about events reported in the news was mildly annoying, but probably not, I realized, any more annoying to me than my past-life impression about the drugstore clerk was to him. My frequent commentary about how mundane aspects of the outer world are subtly connected – how they relate to my beliefs and focus of attention – must grate on him as much as his comments about political leaders grated on me. It wasn’t that we didn’t respect one another’s opinions and interests. Both of us accepted them as valid; we just didn’t think they were important.
As the global consciousness shift progresses, more and more people are becoming interested in expanding their awareness, but there is still a large segment of the population that is quite happily immersed in the world of the five senses. I believe that everyone should follow their passion, and if their passion involves fully appreciating the mundane aspects of physical life, then that’s what is most appropriate for them. But in my case, such aspects of life interest me mainly because I see them as reﬂections of my energy. Much like the illuminated numbers on a biofeedback device, they make me aware of what I’m doing with my energy so I can better adjust it to suit my preferences. In and of itself, outer imagery is not of great importance to me. This is, I realize, the opposite of how most people look at life. Typically their inner state is considered important only as it can be used to manipulate their outer environment. The pragmatic side of me can appreciate this attitude because it’s one I held for much of my life. Even now, I find myself most interested in spiritual and metaphysical information and methods that can help me achieve tangible results. The “results” may be as subtle as increased selfawareness, but there is a feeling of purposefulness in my motivation. I understand why people tend to focus on useful outcomes, but my definition of useful is broader than most.
Increasingly I see rifts occurring in relationships in which one person prefers to remain immersed in the conventional world and the other is looking for deeper meaning and a new way of living. Can a person who is concerned only with three-dimensional reality be happily partnered with one who is fascinated with exploring what is beyond the physical senses? I don’t have a definitive answer to this question; certainly it’s a matter of degree. But to experience true intimacy, partners (lovers or close friends) must have a world view that is at least somewhat similar. To share your world with someone, you must (metaphorically speaking) live on the same planet. This awareness hit me like a block of hematite the day I accompanied a group of friends to a wine-tasting bar. The situation was exacerbated by the fact that I don’t like to drink wine, but if I’d been with people who share my interests and beliefs, I could have had a good time even at a pretentious, mediocre wine bar. Not wanting to abandon my date, I sipped ginger ale while enduring over three hours of mundane conversation that left me feeling like a zombie with a pasted-on smile. On the drive home, I realized that I would sooner spend three hours picking up garbage by the roadside in a rainstorm that I would re-experience the wine-bar episode! The group had consisted of intelligent, congenial people that I genuinely liked. What, I wondered, was wrong with me? The problem was that I was bored — abysmally bored. The discussion of houses, jobs, and vacations (all viewed from only the most superficial perspective) left me feeling like an alien on my own planet. Their world was no better or worse than mine, I acknowledged, but it was distinctly different. I don’t live in that world anymore, and I can’t go back! came the realization. I have to be around people who share my passions, or I will die — in spirit if not in body. My world is no longer the conventional world, where 3D is king. I’ve graduated from that reality and cannot return, much like an animal freed from its cage who can never again abide living behind bars. And while I can walk among others who still reside in their self-constructed cages, it is impossible for me to partner with them closely without returning to my own cage — which is something I’m not willing to do. Significant growth occurs when the desire to change — to expand and become more than one is presently —exceeds the desire to stay in one’s safety zone. In many cases, leaving that safety zone involves breaking away from familiar relationships that no longer support your chosen life direction. Traveling companions must be willing to take the same road.
Slow Wave Reflections on the writing process by Daniel Gilliland
is an article about creativity. It’s about creativity in writing, learning to appreciate conditions conducive to the ﬂow of any art — giving birth to something new without an agonizing, crushing attention which strangles the “fetus.” The mama matrix is there to nourish without becoming obsessed with the creation or losing her own balance. This is about writing something new, in a safe isolation, while still managing to be relevant. About buffering oneself not only from internal critical voices, but also from the hyperoscillating themes and buzzing collective consciousness of the moment. It’s about motivating myself, and always having something to refer back to — not only as proof of my own creative powers, but of the possibilities always waiting and ready, only to be tapped. It’s to prove that great effort or mental strenuousness is not required. It takes a cue from dreaming, which is utterly effortless, and yet profoundly fertile and vivid —an endless fount of creativity, in the absence of the waking, striving mind. Getting started no matter what — turning off the judgement, and knowing that the process takes time, and a certain daringness to “put something out there,” without regard for how it might look. It will change with time. That much is certain. So why stress unnecessarily with perfectionism? This essay actually began its life as something else entirely.
There was an idea, a title and a theme … but the actual written words were showing me something new, a different purpose from what the logical, critical mind was initially aware of. It turned into something about my own writing process, and how I’m looking away from the endpoint, the place where the writing is ultimately delivered — in my case, the Internet — into realms quietly accessible at my kitchen counter, writing by hand the old-fashioned way. WRITING! Writing for its own sake, for the joy of committing words and lettering to paper. Beginning, and beginning, and beginning again. Until there are a considerable number of words on the page. Was what I initially wrote or conceived a waste? Of course not. Certain core ideas and movements were engaged and experienced, and traces of them still inform this. They are the roots, the necessary preliminary roots. If I had not put down those first tentative words (many of them not present here), I would never have arrived at this. They exist implicitly, like revered ancestors.
Non-JUDGEMENT If you’re going to write, you have to put pen to paper. Let that not be a sense of a strict requirement, a “must” or “ought.” It’s more a definition. Ink on a sheet, even the smallest, most effortless amount, constitutes writing of some sort. You really don’t have a problem starting. Someone could ask, “Hey, Daniel – if you could write about a subject right now, what would it be?” And the words which are emitted in response, themselves would be a beautiful — and immediately useful — beginning. But of course, you’re trying to accept that you have a lot of… training, a lot of ideas about what’s “worth” being read or written. And the initial writing is usually very harshly judged on that count. “Is this part of a book? Something good?” You’re apt to compare yourself to someone making a living
in the field. Kids in a garage band want to be the next U2 (or whomever) — forgetting that even such a famous group, was itself a garage band once. And such was their initial appeal. But if you stop the process, for one moment stop your own self-appreciation and switch to a comparative mindset… then you’re dead in the water. Comparison is best reserved for when you have too much creative material, too much generated. Then the critical faculty can come to the rescue, can decide on the proper order of things, and what can be safely left aside for awhile. But it is a dangerous tool when used prior to this. Clipping your fingernails as an adult is one thing, but the same clipper could easily remove the entire hand or arm of a developing fetus. If you find yourself struggling to begin, just attempt to paraphrase. What would you like to be writing profusely about? Answer that question in the roughest terms, in writing. There is your start! Even a modestly good interviewer could begin to elicit a book out of anybody. Anybody.
ISOLATION and BUFFERING or, how to cultivate your literary pond-scum Your most relevant work can, and probably will, be produced away from the obvious trends, the desire to say something in the split-second you think it’s required. Rare is the human with real-time wit: one thinks of something clever to say at a party, or as a retort to a snarky comment. Typically, this would-be uproarious riposte occurs half-an-hour after it would have been useful. One wonders what life would be like if only the appropriate responses, verbal and emotional, were immediately available. A little Oscar Wilde in all of us! In terms of the writing and creative process, and in the larger context of the sum total of human discourse, what I’d advocate instead is taking one’s time. It will work to your advantage in the long run. Reﬂect upon those past experiences and come up with entirely different scenarios and conversations that didn’t even occur. In that richness, you’ll create not a single comment, but an entire wellspring of possibilities and personas. Once born within you, these can inform and permeate your responses for the future. You are that person. You are your own inventions. Recently, one of my online acquaintances was lamenting his lack of time and motivation to post quality content on his blog. This, on his blog. He was wondering how professional bloggers found ways to really write stuff of substance, with so many distractions available. However, he updates his Twitter very frequently, spewing out five or ten micro-
updates very day. [For those who are unfamiliar, Twitter is a “micro-blogging” service which allows a person to post bite-sized status updates, much like might be sent in the form of a text message over a cell phone] Before I get into what I told him, it would seem his solution would be simple: to instead hoard all his thoughts and ideas until he can write more about them. A huge element of the joy of sex is how long it’s been since the last time – the ageold principle of damming up the ﬂow of something, in order to have a reservoir. And so with writing. I find the more I’m saving up and directing my thoughts and “fractional output” toward a specific Work, the more interestingness festers and broods within and amongst the pieces, like intricate weavings of algæ or pond scum. But the building blocks are nothing but the simplest thoughts and observations, initially — none seemingly worth writing, much less publishing. Certainly many of them seemed too obvious or atomic to be the stuff of an essay. … which was pretty much the gist of my response to him, although I was also harping on the benefi ts of relative isolation when working on any creative item. There’s something about pissing oneself and one’s “goodies” away with too many tendrils of self-extension in social settings, real or virtual. New writers are commonly admonished not to speak of their newest ideas to others before completion, lest they jinx themselves, frittering away the energy of something new. And think of the lifetimes which prove to be such engaging reads in biographical form: we weren’t privy to play-byplays over the years. The perspective, the coherence comes in the form of a memoir, a retrospective perusal of discrete memories. True, there are some exceptional cases — authors prolifically self-documenting their existences. And I’m not against the “twitterings” of a wired generation, per se. I’m only trying to indicate that it’s all representative of a different kind of relationship with text and authorship, which is not particularly conducive to generating the kind of voluminous books you’d want to take with you on vacation, or curl up next to a fire with. Put another way, the overarching themes and continuity of human-written texts are inventions used to tie together the disparate moments of life. It’s very difficult to pick them out without the entire corpus of material in front of you. And at root, that’s what we appreciate. The packaging is just as important as the content. The great anecdotes need to ﬂow together and give us some impression of a coherent, unified whole. This benefi ts not only the reader, but serves to encourage the writer, as well.
Photography by Tracy Marshall
Slow Wave, Reflections on the Writing Process, continued
WRITING Away FROM THE EDGE I seem to get into some of my best writing when I’m totally burned out on the Internet. As I wrote the other day, after finally getting away from all the distractions, back to my kitchen countertop to write something completely unconcerned with the input or interaction of others, intimate or casual or anonymous: “Argh, writing at last. Is this what is really takes to get going, an isolation from the Internet and all fun? How I loathe the idea of discipline, and the implication that it’s required of me. To think I am so easily sidetracked and ready to hand over the self-determination of my own free time to myriad minor gods, all demanding a premium of my time for their dubious ‘services’.” I’m not sure there’s much positive to say about the Internet in this regard. If you intend to write, use it at your own risk. I’m still not convinced that writing on an Internet-connected computer is a good idea. Typing things up is one thing – great for mass edits, moving entire paragraphs around and the like. But when it comes to, well, “putting pen to paper,” there is no substitute. Get away from it and clear your mind. Better yet, go write someplace else. Isn’t that the joy of writing? I find it one of my highest callings for that very reason — I can write on the back of a napkin someplace. More realistically, in a small notebook on any ﬂat surface. It also mixes very well with drawings and sketches. All of this is still difficult on a computer. So much of the Internet is hearsay, and that can be very detrimental to writing. The sheer volume of it is likely to clog your writing circuits, leaving them abuzz with words and fragments from disparate, disembodied personalities. What is the value of that which is merely digitally “churned,” rehashed and regurgitated from so many online sources, all of which are the fading echoes of a single novel event? Merely recombined, unartfully, like so much particleboard? Real wood – grown – has value. The hand-worked sculpture of nature. I liken all this to a metaphor: imagine throngs of people all amassed and pressed into each other at the front of a sea-going vessel. Most have a difficult enough time seeing, while those with the best views are smooshed and pressurized by their ostensibly advantageous positions. Mostly it’s just a compressed, many-headed-hydra of mediocrity. It is not even that the individuals themselves are merely average, but their positions forcibly limit the available perspective. Those who cannot see clearly or consistently are often only repeating what’s been reported by those a few inches ahead, and slight discrepancies in points-of-view collide with varying degrees of heated bickering.
So: why not retreat backward, taking an overview of what everyone is saying as a group, watching the crowd in its entirety and therefore not taking issue with any individual viewpoint? This buffering, in addition to allowing space to breathe and collect oneself, allows one to take account of peripheral vision, noticing new possibilities to the left and right, and sharing them with those huddled, timebound masses at the front (to whatever degree they are comfortable with the insights gleaned from a sideways perspective). Taking the analogy further, one might even ascend a mast, gaining a higher perspective on that which is already clearly seen by others. So there is a value to escaping, de-clutching like the brain in its dream states — brieﬂy disengaged from its role as body’s helmsman. It needs time to process certain things within itself. We all know how amazingly creative dreams can be. There’s a purity to it, the disconnection and pristine isolation required to birth something fresh and untainted — organic, non-digital, creative. And even this work itself, is something that I’m sitting on for awhile, allowing it to ferment. It’s almost complete in terms of length, but the “pond scum” hasn’t formed yet, generating a cohesive matrix within which all the sequenced paragraphs and idea-arcs can reside. [Of course, if you’re reading it now, it’s done — about a month from when it started] Writing, ultimately, is a process which requires this gestation time. The words begin their lives on paper, in the moment, where they are motivated and scrawled in the inkblood of emotion and sharp, immediate importance. But you have to let it simmer awhile, subconsciously. Come back to it in a few days or a week (or longer) and revise it, respond to it. The author really does some of their best work as the First Reader. The words written days or weeks ago will evoke something different as time passes. The things you encounter in the world in the meantime will raise different elements of your entire being to the surface, and these will interact with the text in new ways, birthing some avenues while de-emphasizing others. I’d like to think that you could have written a draft twenty years ago, and with a few weeks of this kind of “slow-cooking” interaction, it would by no means be out of place in the present. Ideas are like that. They are always expanding and growing. It’s just a matter of refining and “nipping” the work at a certain point to present it as a finished product. But there is really no end to the explorations, and the inner and outer stimulations which lead to the evolution of any form of art.
by Pat Gerber “Doctor we have an emergency patient waiting. I have never seen anything like it.” “I am on my way nurse. Oh no, this looks really bad; strange symptoms. Every time he opens his mouth meaningless words fall out. Hello can you hear me; can you give me an answer to my questions?" “Doctor I think he is trying but the words are just falling out and taking no sensible form or shape. If only they were making sentences.” “How did this patient arrive in the hospital nurse.?” “It seems he was attending a banquet and was going to hold a speech. When he stood up to speak it happened.” “What happened?” “I think I can give the information you need doctor” “Who are you?” “I am his friend and was with him at the banquet. I saw it happen.” “Do you know this person very well.” “Yes doctor, we work together.” “Can you give me a reason for this to happen? Did he show any symptoms at work during the day.”
The Guitar Dude T
here is this Other Self that has been living beside me for many years… Guitar Dude. Since all of the discussion that has been bouncing around about other probable realities and other probable selves, it has just dawned on me — I do have a regular companion self. He has been with me since I was maybe ten years of age. What purpose does he serve, if any? He’s an escape for me when I am in one of those proverbial “tight spots”. For an example, if I am growing cobwebs while waiting my turn in a crowded waiting room, or getting my teeth cleaned, or sitting through a boring sermon, I become Guitar Dude. He is usually sitting on the beach playing ﬂamenco guitar. Sometimes, he is sitting in a plaza or a courtyard or beneath a tree on a mountain top, playing long and sweet. He’s a part of me, but the part of me that has no other duty but to play that guitar. (The guitar, by the way, is a Hermanos Conde ﬂamenco special).
“Not really, he seemed to have a heavy cough, but he smokes, so I thought it was due to the habit of smoking. He has been smoking quite heavily lately; more than usual.” “That is interesting. Is there any reason for the heavier smoking?” “I think it might be the stress he has in the office. Our directors have been put under pressure lately and it has all become too much. I noticed he coughed up a couple of letters during the day. His speech at the banquet was based on our annual turnover and profits, but the words just came tumbling out making no sense.” “And now please tell me where he works and what his job is.” “Oh, I thought you knew — he is the managing director of our bank.” “Nurse, just put the patient alone in a room and leave him for a few days. The complaint will cure itself. When he wakes up his bank will not exist any more.”
Hay Ride by Sharon Mendenhall
Acceptance called me last week and asked me if I would like to go to the Zoo with her. It seems she has been given an assignment by the Cosmic Motion Picture Co. Public Relations Department to check out the new exhibit supported by CMPC.
I’ve been to the Zoo before with Acceptance, and she really enjoys watching me do that mirror thing while I am watching the Gorillas. She always gets a big bang out of that. I don’t know if I much like the Zoo, however. It’s like Disneyland’s version of a wild animal show. All those animals are far removed from wild. Wild is down at the local bar on the second Tuesday of every month, when they have the amateur topless night with two free beers. But she convinced me it was going to be pretty exciting, so I consented to go with her.
Acceptance picked me up in that “piece of shit” car she drives. This car is so old that the glove compartment box ceased to close right about the time we were sending the astronauts to the moon. Now, the passenger just sits directly on the springs, because the cushion has long since departed, and there is no hope for rolling the window down, unless I bring my own equipment. I feel lucky because the passenger door still opens, but closing completely is another matter entirely. This car was build long before anybody even thought about seatbelts, much less make a law about it. That’s what is so unnerving about riding with Acceptance, because every ride is a “Hay Ride.” I mean, the whole entire time I’m yelling, “Hey! Look Out!” She is an offensive driver, to say the least. I think Acceptance invented “Road Rage.” Anyway, Acceptance is ballsy enough to drive and talk at the same time, and although it is hard to concentrate on her words with so many distractions, she did manage to tell me about Jim. Do you remember the Lowell Thomas wild animal show? The one where in almost every episode Lowell always sat up in the tree and watched Jim wrestle with the alligator, or whatever. I understand that Lowell died pretty comfortably. For all I know, he died in that very tree. Lowell was definitely one of those armchair explorers. I always wondered what happened to Jim, did he wrestle one alligator too many?
Well, Acceptance started telling me that Jim, who is alive and well, has been working for the CMPC since Lowell died. And Jim captured a species of animal, that up to this time, no one has ever seen before. And this was the grand unveiling ceremony, and how I would be so glad that I consented to come along, because it would be an experience I would never forget. (The ride to the Zoo was already an experience I would never forget.) So we get there, and man, it is a big “ta do.” Jim is on a platform giving a speech, and all the media are warring with one another, each trying to elbow their way to the front to get a good shot. I didn’t get to hear all of Jim’s speech because of the commotion, but I did hear him say how this particular animal has been in existence since day one, but up until right now no one has ever captured it and put it on display. Then bang, the fireworks went off, and the curtain dropped, and “Oh, my Gawd,” there it was. I can’t really describe it well, but you could get Acceptance to send you some of the publicity pictures. It looked sort of like that Dr. Doolittle pushme/pullme only much bigger. Strangest thing I ever saw. There was a head on both ends, and the heads were entirely different. One had a soft sweet kitten-like face, and the other looked like a fierce Komodo Dragon that wouldn’t hesitate to eat me for lunch. It never moved, so I haven’t a clue how it gets around, but I suppose it must. I guess I don’t know a whole lot about this animal, what it likes to eat, or how it reproduces, or even how it poops. I don’t suppose anyone does at this point, even “Ballsy Jim”. But I do think there will be a serious study of this animal from now on. If you want to see it yourself, look for the Duplicity Exhibit. It’s in the southwest section, very close to where they keep all those caged birds.
Caged Bird Exhibit I forgot to tell you, if you do go down to the Zoo to see the Duplicity Exhibit, swing by and look at the Caged Bird Exhibit which is also supported by the CMPC. But, if you miss it, don’t feel too bad. It isn’t much of a display. The first time Acceptance showed it me, all I could think was “Big cage, bunch of pigeons, who gives a shit.” But I didn’t say anything, because Acceptance seems to be quite fond of it. Then I noticed the bronze plaque on the side. It said, “Fully Sponsored by the CMPC and AOS.” Well, AOS is Acceptance herself; I figured that out right away. Although Acceptance never said anything, I understood her connection. Acceptance has her own key to get in. So I guess if you don’t go down there with Acceptance, it’s not going to be too interesting. Anyway, she let both of us in. Now, let me tell you there are a bunch of birds in there. I don’t know exactly what they are, but then, I am not a bird lover, so they all looked like pigeons to me. I mean, do I look like someone who would run around in shorts with field glasses hanging from my neck, recording birdcalls? I wasn’t much interested in the birds, so I was looking at this really neat thing. It was a tree branch, and crawling up and down it were two lines of ants, each line going in opposite directions. It was about the coolest thing I had ever seen, because one line was carrying little bits of leaves about fourteen sizes bigger than they were. It reminded me of “A Bugs Life,” and I was looking to see if I recognized anybody. You know, like Princess Dot. Anyway, I couldn’t see any little tiny crowns on their heads, so I figured they all know who they are, and suddenly I heard a commotion. Acceptance had one of those pigeons in her hands, and it was ﬂuttering around like crazy, smacking her face with both wings. Acceptance walks right over to the door, opens it, and tosses that bird out, and it goes ﬂapping off into oblivion. Then Acceptance walks right over to another bird, and does the same thing. I’m thinking, “Holy Shit!” I understand that Acceptance is a sponsor, but if she keeps throwing those birds out the door, pretty soon there won’t be an exhibit left. But then I started thinking, “Who cares?” It’s just a bunch of stupid pigeons anyway. They’re going to ﬂy directly to Venice, and get in line for the free popcorn.
By the way, there are a couple more exhibits at the Zoo sponsored by the CMPC, that I know of. But it isn’t worth going to look at either one. There’s the Hamster Exhibit, and it’s even more boring than the pigeons. I could do that on my own, if I had a big enough wheel. And the Dead Mouse Exhibit. Yuck!
Angels among us, Photography by Grey Morgan
Acceptance threw out a lot of birds that day. And she didn’t even lock the door when we left. Maybe she doesn’t care if they all get out.
NASA I heard on the news that NASA, (remember them?), is going to send one of those very expensive metal basketballs out into space to hang around an Asteroid, in order to learn the secrets of the Universe. They said, and I don’t know how they know this exactly, that the Asteroid is from another solar system, outside of our solar system. What! You think that Asteroid, like yelled that over? “Hey, how ya doin? We’re from another Solar System!” Now you know what NASA means. It means Not A Single Achievement (since 1969). Yeah, even now in the Twenty-First Century, they’re still driving down to the local hardware store, and getting them a basketball. I saw that movie “October Sky,” maybe they should see it too! I thought that was very curious, I mean what have those NASA boys been doing for the last 30 years? Do they have one of those jobs like my son, where they sleep till they get hungry, and then eat till they get sleepy? They should read a few books in that short span of time between the eatin’ and the sleepin’.
Figure out the basketball guys. I mean, don’t let the air out and chop it into sixteen pieces. But if you do, and then stick it under the microscope, all you’re going to see is that cooperative consciousness waving back at you in their particle little waves, and saying, “Hey, how ya doin? We’re from another Solar System!” This was so puzzling to me that I thought I might dial up Acceptance and see what she would say about this. Maybe I’m being a little hard on the NASA boys. That’s a pretty good job, and you do make a few bucks, and keep your family in that really nice life style, with all kinds of medical and life insurance. So, you do get to kick back a lot. So what? Well I got through to her right away, but she was still all excited about the Duplicity animal. And she even had some pictures of the Hamster Exhibit, Lord knows why, that’s the most boring exhibit there is, outside of the Dead Mouse Exhibit. But she had just joined the “Protect the Duplicity Association,” which is an
association offered through the Zoo to protect the endangered species. Does she think that Duplicity is endangered? Well, she always seems to know more than I. I thought we didn’t know enough about Duplicity to consider it endangered. Aren’t they still lookin’ for the sexual organs? I mean that thing has two heads, and no ass. And usually, that’s where the sexual organs are, right close to the rear end. Duplicity is a strange animal indeed. I mean, it eats and eats, but all that eatin’ goes exactly nowhere. Maybe there is a hamster wheel inside of Duplicity, and that food just runs around, and around until it wears itself out. Anyway, Acceptance was going on and on about Duplicity. I didn’t even get to ask her if it was alright if the NASA boys had that real good job or not? Now that I think about it though, I think she did say that if any of us could actually get through the Shift Ride holding tightly on to our own basketball of beliefs, then the exit ramp will definitely shake it lose. It was designed that way.
MEMO TO: All members FROM: The Prote the Duplicity Association
I have this image of the boys at NASA getting on the Shift Ride, holding the basketball. And it must be some really strong kind of belief, the way they are so unwilling to let go of it. Now, I have no idea what the Shift Ride looks like, other than the exit ramp. But I have a suspicion that the basketball is not going to like it one bit.
This belief basketball has been around for quite some time. I mean it was bouncing around Newton when that fig, or whatever the hell it was, bopped him on the head, and he went into some type of altered consciousness state. Even though Einstein did come along and sort of drop kick us towards the end zone, we’re still not really getting it. Then came the Quantum Theory War, and oh my. Lions, and Tigers, and Bears, oh my. If they want to know where cooperative consciousness is, it’s in the basketball.
At present, even Ballsy Jim is afraid to approach the Dragon’s head, because it is exceptionally strong and has tremendous energy. He feeds the Kitten head every four hours around the clock, and although the Kitten head always devours every bite, Jim is reporting the strangest occurrence. It is the Dragon head that chews, swallows, and then has the nerve to burp.
illustrations by DragonArt & Dezignus.com
MEMO TO: All members
RE: The round the clock Duplicity watch We are requesting members of the Association to please volunteer their time to the noticing of the Duplicity animal, and sharing your impressions with other members. Please contact AOS at 1-SLFAWRENES or email LFDeale@aol.com Currently, Jim is in totally in charge of all caretaking.
FROM: The Prote the Duplicity Association DATE: Today RE: URGENT warning from Caretaker (Ballsy) Jim. Today the Duplicity animal bit me in the ass. I wasn’t paying attention, and the next thing I knew, that Dragon head had its jaws on me. I want to warn all volunteers that they should keep a safe distance until it can be determined the full nature of the Duplicity animal. Thank you,
To date, the animal has not eliminated.
Jim also reports that this animal does move around, however, he has never seen it do so. Just like graffiti.
Money is a tool,… for every manifestation has a specific vibration.
hen I project a different vibration into an object, the space which surrounds the manifestation alters. Every vibration has the matching surrounding/place/space.
Pearls from the Surf Got interesting websites you want to share with us? Send your selection to firstname.lastname@example.org
http://www.tut.com Sign up for daily ‘Notes From The Universe’: “A philosophical club of like-minded thinkers who believe that life is the ultimate adventure… because thoughts become things, dreams come true, and all things remain forever possible!
Since we strongly express the belief of space, we implemented ‘money’ to alter the vibration of a manifestation. Money is the allowance to project a different energy into an object and then ‘move’ it into the fi tting space, now reﬂecting the energy, that I have projected with my choice of doing so: For instance, I want a pound of butter. I go to a store, pay for it and take it home, to my kitchen. Let’s have a look at what really happens, if you are regarding ‘reality’ as what it is — much less solid than we believe. The butter in the store has the vibration of the store, I project the energy of “butter in store” through my outer senses unto the butter.
Membership is free and begins with taking The Oath to receive the ‘Notes from the Universe’ emailings — short and often humorous reminders of life’s magic and your divinity.”
http://ﬂickr.com/photos/lfdeale/ You never know what you might find on Sharon Mendenhall’s Flickr pages, but you can be sure to find much more than just photos — inspiring quotes, links, videos and more, updated regularly.
The moment I perceive the butter in the fridge of the store, I start to project a different energy on the butter; the butter starts to vibrate differently. Then I go to the counter and pay. The doing of ‘paying’ alters the vibration again; thus I alter the automatic association: the butter belongs to me. The movement, the doing of ‘taking the butter into my kitchen’ is a continuous alteration of the vibration of the butter, I continuously project a different energy unto the butter until it is IN my kitchen. Money is merely the allowance to alter the vibration of a manifestion within the confines of the belief of space.
Sabine vom Hoﬀ, Berlin, Febr. 11, 2009
A selection of websites to broaden your horizons!
http://www.realitytest.com Don’t be deceived by its simple looks, you may end up staying on Bill Ingle’s RealityTest website longer than you intended to. Check out RealityTest for exercises, interviews and lots of other interesting reading. And remember… reading about the exercises isn’t the same thing as doing them!
http://www.thatradio.com A Canadian web-radio, with a soul and a diverse program. Tune in to hear Serge channeling Kris live online on Kris Radio every Thursday evening at 7 P.M. (EST). photography by Tracy Marshall, illustration by DaPino Webdesign
I will wait for you though life carries you like a leaf in an autumn breeze away from me I will watch you As you dance in brilliant colors Unaware of my awestruck gaze Unaware of the growing distance As you spin and twirl away Farther away I will wait for you Though you dance to drummers I cannot hear And you follow them to places I cannot go I will wait for you Though I know the wind Will not change its direction I will watch for you Though the last of the leaves Have long since blown away I will wait for you Because Because Because there is a place here That is empty And itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s shaped like you
Photography by Tracy Marshall
photography by Emily Judson
Human Puzzle Pieces I was born, I grew, I slowly evolved, I knew heartache well, I remember laughter, I became alone, I put myself back together, I traveled the world, I stayed at home, I planted a garden, I buried a few friends, I fell in love, I fell on my face, I have lived life on my own terms, I have stared death in its incarnate state, I tried to do right, I often got it wrong, I made my own road, I danced my own way, I never was a father, I never had a brother, I did have the best mother, I remember my father, I feel connected, I feel displaced, I see a light, I feel the heat, I suffer quietly, I praise openly, I bask in joy, I cry within the soul of my darkness, I cheer the underdog, I extend myself to strangers, I know where I want to be, I know how to get there, I know it can only get better, I know how; I just want to know when.
Bill Pate From Within A Soul â&#x20AC;&#x201D; 2008
Ink Blots by Jean Blenkhorn http://www.jeansartdolls.com
I have been rubber stamping for 25 years and have learned alot and have mingled into everything related to stamping. Though a rubber stamp ink blot is usually made using an ink pad and rubber stamps, you can have many styles when you stamp. Maybe you like flowers or birds or just use word stamps to make a card or a tag. I have ventured into this unexplored area and find it is my muse.
Dreams Really Do Come True, ink on postcard, 5”1/2 x 4”1/4
Rubber Stamp Ink Blotting allows you to step out of the “box” and explore your natural creativity like we once had as a child learning to hold a crayon. It is an easy process if you want to take the time and learn. I taught myself by experimenting with “shapes”. I wanted “movement” in my art and I am still trying to find this in inkings. Not one of my ink blots are the same. I do not start by planning what I want to design, they just flow freely onto the paper by positioning images onto paper using different angles —no rules are needed. Just like making an abstract painting, it cannot be easily explained or taught. I am a self taught mixed media artist. I like designing zines, ATCs, art journals, cards, mingle in vintage, grunge, pop art, abstract and artsy styles. I am considered a mood artist. I have found a safe haven in art that no one else can disturb. It is a creative outlet that allows me to be myself through this filterless process. No restraints present; the fluid just flows in the neon liquid pool that produces waves of natural vibrations. And I usually don’t title my work not to take the mystery out of it. How do I design? With an open mind and an imagination! And if the art doesn’t have wings… I just add them! Artfully, Jean.
An Intriguing New Perspective by Mark C. Bukator
On Monday evening (January 12, 2009), I sat down with Kris to work on our new book. After a period of time Kris paused, then said something to the effect of, “There is another… Aspect in the neighborhood, so to speak.” There was a long pause in which I watched Serge’s face and body intently. Having been trained in hypnosis I observed changes in his physiology that others may have neglected. For example, his shoulders slumped a little. His breathing changed and his left index finger twitched every now and then. Following a few deep breaths his head rose up and with a voice that I am not familiar with, he uttered the following phrase: “I apologize if it seems to take a while to function with your friend. For me to function the way you think someone should function takes a little bit getting used to.” This new personality explained that its perspective is different from that of Kris and of Brahm. At that point I asked if there was a name I could refer to it by? The response was: “ As you can see that is another level in which we have to adapt”, since this Entity has no name or use for names at its level. It continued on to say that it prefers to be referred to in the singular and, “If you have to call me something, it should be something nice. Should it not?” After a short moment of thought, Eroeen was decided upon. (Pronounced ee-roween, but can also be pronounced ee-rooin). The purpose of the communication is to provide a different perspective, a different window in which to view our world from.
EROEEN: At the moment, your friend (Serge) is able to sense that my experience is more that of an interpretation that may even sound musical to him, as in a variety of sweet musical notes. Yet MY experience is more of a ﬂow of different kinds of light energies that he would automatically interpret as a variety of musical notes. During a brief break, I spoke to Serge and asked him what he was experiencing. He told me that he could see flashes and blurs of colors and lights. I proceeded to enlighten Serge on my experiences of the session and in doing so, referred to Eroeen as “he” or “him”. Even as the words flowed from my lips, I was aware that this might not be the case. After a short break Eroeen returned and our conversation continued. EROEEN: Now, you referred to us and to myself in the masculine. MARK: Even as I said it I questioned it. EROEEN: Assigning a gender to myself is quite… [deep breath] especially a male gender… We do understand and appreciate, but it simply doesn’t fi t what I know myself to be. If I had to have some kind of gender assignment, I would have to be far more adamant that it is feminine in nature according to everything in your world that is of the feminine. MARK: I really enjoy your energy. EROEEN: I understand that perhaps some would be very quick and ready to catalogue me under certain terms of your world of fairies, nymphs and Elvin folks. I can understand and appreciate where they and that comes from, but that would also implicate that I have to conform to some definitions simply to please and make some of your understandings more palatable, but is not at all the reality. I am much more than that and I can assure you that all of your fairy tales are very much that. MARK: What is your relationship to Kris? EROEEN: You are obviously familiar with the Brahm. I am in a certain way, to your Kris as what Brahm is as well and yet at the same time I am different and not different. MARK: So would you say that you are at the Entity level? EROEEN: To use that definition, yes.
MARK: I understand that it is a very limited category or definition, but I don’t have a lot to work with from my point of view. [Laughing] EROEEN: If I use one of your analogous examples, I would say that it is similar to having an apple and making apple pie and saying, this is an apple. While at the same time ignoring that you can have apple juice, apple sauce, apple butter, apple cider, apple wine, apple brandy and a whole variety of other products from an apple. I do not know if that helps you, but you do understand the principle. So, what does that tell you? MARK: It says to me that all of us are so much more than we give ourselves credit to be, especially from our perspective. EROEEN: That does fi t what I know of your species. You look at yourselves and you claim that you are one thing and sometimes one thing alone, forgetting that you are also so many other things. In other words, you create a certain definition, then you put myself or others in that definition, because it is something that you might be comfortable with and when I or others start to express what can’t fi t into your little box, you become confused, just as you do with your own selves. MARK: So true. EROEEN: You do not have to stop there. MARK: Okay. You described your reality or yourself as color and light. Can you elaborate? EROEEN: I do not like so very much to restrain whom and what I am or to keep it in the bag by trying to define myself in terms that only make sense to you. I did say that your interpretation of my experience would be as having musical notes… qualities and your friend would further interpret that as my experience having ﬂashes or blurs of color… from his point. It is a given that his experience is internal and to use such a bland word as energy, which you think describes a great deal, is in its own way just as neutering, but in other terms I cannot avoid that, because you yourselves, as a species are used to neutering your own experiences, that to experience what I am fully would simply not fi t in your little pigeon holes and your experiences, by the same token also fall by the way side. Now this is not our entire conversation, but merely some excerpts that I found to be enlightening, at least for me. This new perspective allowed me to see how we as the species of Essence called Orodin choose to deliberately narrow our focus and create limitless realities through the concept of limitations.
Photography by Marguerite Duret
Having said that, it also became clear that even though we have chosen to play with the concept of limitations, they do not necessarily bind us. The very words, phrases, definitions and labels that we use to understand and define ourselves, also limit us. We are not those words. We are not those definitions and once we begin to understand that, we gain much more insight in whom and what we are. Individually and as a species we are not better than or less than Eroeen or Kris or Brahm. We are simply different and we should give ourselves a gold star for creativity and for having the intestinal fortitude to undergo the challenges that come with playing in a self-made sandbox that we perceive as small and limiting. I would love to share more of my conversation with Eroeen, but you are going to have to read our next book for that.
by Gayle Nabrotzky
River rock — stones rolled in the water until smooth as cool skin. My hand reaches out to hold them, without thought. Some fit in my palm like the missing piece that fills the curve, their solid weight an assurance and solace. But I cannot keep all of them — only a few.
ince I moved to this river in the woods of the northwest, I’ve spent hours on its banks, wading and swimming in its glacially cold water and collecting certain stones that speak to my bones. Each of them has a circle… I bring them home like talismans. I hold them in my hand and feel my self slow down, my mind focus and sensitivity rise. All from a piece of schist with a quartzite vein running through it. Elemental magic. There is an ancient love of circularity, a yearning for the closed circle of protection. Countless forms in nature take the circle as their shape. Spiralling out, circling in. Life and growth are a constant reassessment of paths, changes and choices. The journey offers many exits, some of them unexpected, and it often takes us time to catch up. Body knowledge vs. brain knowledge. Keeping the two melded and whole is often difficult. The stones help me to remember. One day last summer, I went to the river with the dogs — a rare hot day when I needed the cooling water. As I walked over the pushed stones that form a sort of beach, I picked up stones that caught my eye. Some I’d lick, to see their color and pattern more clearly. I learned this from my Dad, who is a zoologist/geologist. Doing this also gives me the taste for different rocks - a whole other dimension. I was almost to the bend in the river where I strip down for the plunge when I saw it. An oval, grey stone with a perfect, unbroken, white circle edging it. I remember saying, “Ohhhhh”, aloud and feeling tears in my eyes. Why? I don’t know. They just came. I keep this one slightly separate from the others and every time I see it, pick it up, hold it… I feel as if I found a rare treasure. It is my heart stone. I will keep it safe, always.
Art by R. Daddario
Stones by Rick Daddario
“Nature teaches more than she preaches. There are no sermons in stones. It is easier to get a spark out of a stone than a moral.”
(American naturalist and essayist 1837-1921)
FEB.–MARCH FEBRUARY 20092009 Wisp e-zine Wisp e-zine
Robotman‘s Energy Exchange
've recently discovered that the articles that I've submitted to Wisp are part of an energy exchange that I was not objectively aware of.
by Rob Arteman It seems that when I quiet my thinking process looking for inspirational material, I am also opening, or actually allowing for, a potential energy exchange. I started as I usually do in preparing myself, and my immediate environment, for the mind quieting process in search of inspirational material. This includes some towels for the excessive drooling and popcorn in case it gets really interesting. At the completion of the saturation of the first towel, I decided I’d ask for some identification of the entity which has been so helpful for inspiring me previously. The response was “You may refer to me as Goofenoff!” I asked how he chose me for the energy exchange and while he did respond, I didn’t fully understand the complete message. I recall something in the last part about “drawing the short straw!” At this point the dialog was much more clear and continued as follows: Goofenoff: You may refer to me as professor, if you are choosing to do so, as this is most closely related to a similar expression within your dimension. However, I do not teach, but then in actuality, neither do YOUR professors. But much like many of your professors, I hit on my younger female students and tap kegs at frat parties! Me: Okay Professor, I’d like to ask you what your intent is? Goofenoff: We choose to support your shift in consciousness through the sharing of what you may refer to as dumbness! We intend this to be helpful in lessoning of trauma and promoting a thinning of veils allowing for an ease within inter-dimensional peeping and less effort in accessing your YouTube! Me: Excellent! Can you provide me with my essence name?
Goofenoff: Accessing! Dope, and I shall offer a spelling M-O-R-O-N! Me: Thank you! Can you offer any information that could be helpful to us presently? Goofenoff: Very well, we would suggest that you view more closely your science fiction. In particular, your expression known as the Matrix. In this, your physical expression was referred, most accurately, as a battery. One that has a potential of tremendous energy. The only thing which stops this tremendous energy from creating exactly what you want is because of your shorts! Me: So what you’re saying is that if we were taller… Goofenoff: I shall offer more explanation to you Moron. You tend to short out your energy in your attempts to force energy in your wanting to bend it by your objective will. So we say to you with much affection, “knock that crap off!” Me: Understood! How about our present discord regarding our financial situations? Goofenoff: We find this to be quite humorous as this area is the simplest area to remove your shorts! Stop buying them and go commando! Also releasing your Charlie Brown on blue-ray can be most beneficial. As this could also help in addressing to your terrorists. This is due to the displaying of greater acceptance of difference as the snoopy is an essence ﬂeck of a leader for that exploration. We would also benefi t from this as we are very fond of the little red-haired girl! We will allow one more question as our patience is thinning much like the veils within your dimension! Me: Do you have any information for us regarding the year 2012? Goofenoff: Yes, the individuals that have tapped into that potential energy, are in your terms, dyslexic! It was 1220 and has since passed, so move on! Very well, we thank you for allowing blah, blah, blah! Click! Well, I guess he hung up. So I’ll see if he’ll be offering anymore inspiration to me in the, so called, future!
Hommage, photography by Marguerite Duret
and magical surprises
by Tracy Marshall
love the idea of chancing upon something magical and unexpected.
When I met Chico the wood carver at a medieval fair recently, I was enchanted to hear of the faces he carved into ancient olive trees on his family’s land, in the Andalucian mountains. Imagine walking though the woods and finding a hundred trees with faces carved into them! (article in the next issue of Wisp) It reminded me of the Billy Johnson carved heads project. Johnson carved faces into stones and deposited them in various locations during the night. The mysterious discoveries made the national UK press and was surely a welcome touch of magic amongst the inevitable gloomy news1. A friend had been telling me of a man who made miniature bridges, and placed them over rivulets in the countryside, simply for the pleasure of imagining the delight and surprise as folks stumbled upon them accidentally, perhaps for a moment entertaining the idea that tiny people use them. (Perhaps it was a magical surprise for the little people to wake up one morning and find a bridge had appeared!) In some circles, this kind of whimsical act is called a “Glamourbomb”. According to Wikipedia: “A glamourbomb is a prank or act of mischief aimed at challenging or altering perceptions —in particular, expanding the target’s view of reality, with the hope of encouraging belief in magic, and/or magical beings such as fairies, nature spirits, etc.” “The word glamour is used in its older sense, as a reference to magic (based on the archaic word grammarye), particularly magic focussed on altering perceptions...” I like to know that there are magical surprises waiting ‘out there’ for me to find. I’d like to leave a little magic ‘out there’ for someone else to stumble upon too. If I don’t get around to carving faces, or making little bridges, I can smile at random strangers, which has a special kind of magic of its own.
1 · See previous issues of Wisp for more
Summer Storms and
w Front Porch S
r by Sheila Gree
nI they were whe mers they way e wonth l al h it w remember sum child ee spir it of a n recall had the carefr that focus. I ca in es liv at th are of ic ag aw e m m d co an der at I would be th t an wait st in ld e fraid I wou with clar ity th er stor m. Una m se m fu su in g in ld ch ou wind w an approa tience as the e pa th im es ss se le e th ey ea s with br gy. My mind’ er en h it ar w so dy wks my young bo ches as two ha ds and it wat lls to each ca r ei th ar chur ning clou he and my ears , ts htening en lig rr ed cu e gg on th comes long, ja h s in rt no e y th their leaf head other. From e the trees toss m nd d. ou in w ar e ll bolts. A ayed on th to the music pl wild abandon ar rival first nnouncing its A . es m co in furiously Finally the ra smell and then lic al et m et et, hard and w with that s centipede fe it h it w nd ou gr ak s up the stomping the as the earth so er os ght cl er ev g af ter an all ni fast. Comin irsty dr unkard is th a m e or lik st e ng th ri wet of fe enty minutes tw t ou ket ab an bl ly the thick binge. After on way through it s ng hi ew yt ch er n ev su s wn to dres spent. The war m rays do of g s in on nd bb se ri ds py of clou Soon wis amond light. zily up in sparkling di ound to curl la gr e th om fr se ri blue to ep n de mist begi ng into a sky, disappeari ng ri ea cl a into ocean. and m been brown before the stor ft d so ha s od tr as w gr e no steps, it Where th om r beneath my fr pe d pa te e ea lik tr re ed d crackl that ha d the wild life caulike sponge an would soon be ds oo w ep de e n creek, th le to ol in sw the heat k along the in dr d to t ou e moss covere tiously creeping g in joy over th in ap le d an g now rushin rock s. aky swing from the sque ch at w d ul co I r dmother’s All this wonde rch of my Gran po t on fr e ould th the tin roof w that hung on of the rain on d house e un th so e de si Th home. no one in at th y on ph in m ra sy agined the create such a nging as I im si ud lo y m could hear orld my stage. tra and the w was my orches
photography by Sheila Greer (right) and Grey Morgan (left)
e’re not in human bodies by accident. It’s not some cruel quirk of fate. We’re not supposed to live here in misery and confusion, until the time when we can leave these bodies and become enlightened someplace else. Human life is not about mere survival. It’s about learning to live here in joy and wonder! Celebrating both our human form and our higher consciousness! We’re here to discover ourselves right here and right now! Virtually any path to enlightenment must include a method for coming to terms with the body. Sure, people can raise their consciousness in non-physical ways. Some focus on places like the crown chakra, or the base of the spine, or even outside the body completely, and ignore all else. But I’m saying that to really be who you are, in all your essence, you must come to terms with what’s in your body and learn how to release negativity and blocked energies and other harmful aspects.
Gordon Artrias Rosenberg is a longtime student of Eastern spiritual traditions and Western transpersonal therapies, relaxation and awareness guide, Reiki masterteacher, and esoteric writer-poet. As a metaphysical practitioner, he has conducted thousands of individual body-mind-spirit sessions, led an online distant Reiki circle since 1997, and shared his own program for relaxation and self-healing on the web for years. Find all his work at lightreport.org.
Self-Realization and the Body It’s Very Difficult To Have One Without the Other! http://artriaslight.multiply.com/ Does this mean you must focus on “third dimensional” physical reality, to the exclusion of all else? No, not that either. I’m saying you must pay attention to your physical self in order to know how to transcend its limitations. You actually can ignore 3D reality entirely, and yet be very focused on your body and what’s going on inside it. Does it seem impossible that you could find out who you are while you’re here? Would you prefer to leave, and find yourself someplace else? Many people would. But how could you find yourself there, when you’re here? Why wait until then, when this is what’s happening now?
by Gordon Artrias Rosenberg
Do you think you stop being yourself when you come here? To this mundane place in these gross physical forms? Like we take a vacation from our higher selves to come here. Well, these physical forms are just as enlightened as our so-called higher selves. We’re just as realized as physical beings as we are as angels, or spirit beings, or whatever. These are our forms while we’re here, and we need to learn to access them entirely to know who we are. It’s really not so difficult to find yourself inside your body. After all, that’s where you live, isn’t it? Finding yourself is as easy as looking in the right places. You can begin to realize which parts are real, and which parts are false. You can release the false parts and let them ﬂoat away. You can learn to emphasize and express the truth. The truth is always there, waiting for you to find it, as soon as you begin looking in earnest.
Photo credits: Ruth St. Denis, New-York Public Library, Flickr Commons
photography by Tracy Marshall
Our bodies want us to discover them. They want us to learn what they have to tell us. They want us to listen to them. We each hold inside us all the answers we need. If we look inside, we'll begin to find those answers. But before we can receive accurate information, we have to work our way through all the illusion, all the false information, all the lies we were told and believed about ourselves. We must learn to access anything that’s not true about us and send it on its way, accentuating the positive. No matter what shape or size or state of health your body is in, you can access it and let it help you realize yourself. Have you looked inside your body for answers? Are they in there? Of course, they are. Where else would they be? Your answers are your answers, so they wouldn’t be hiding anywhere else. The body is our friend, whatever we may think about it. It’s not here to hold us back. We hold ourselves back. The body wants us to be free. It wants us to be who we are. We need only to let our bodies help us, by learning
to accept ourselves as we are. Most people block the answers because they don’t really want to know them. They may be afraid of what they'll hear. They leave here still blocking answers, perhaps thinking they don’t deserve to know them. But the answers are still there, patiently waiting for us to seek them. There are many ways to get in touch with your body, to accept it as a friend, and to let it begin to speak to you. Meditation, deep relaxation techniques, breathing exercises, yoga, and other gentle stretching processes are all good ways to begin. The important thing is that you find a way that helps you learn to relax your body, still your mind, and let the answers come to you. These ways can assist you in opening to your spirit and discovering that it lives in your body, at least for as long as you’re here. While it’s true that you are not your body, that you go much beyond it, it’s also true that while you’re here, your body is part of you and you are part of it. We are all one, and that includes our physical forms, for as long as we have them.
The Mysterious Doorway of
by Mark Felder
In southern Peru, high in the Andes
Mountains at 12,800 feet, cut into the reddish brown sandstone thousands of years ago, is a shallow mysterious keyhole shaped opening called The Doorway Of Amaru Muru. The doorway has many legends surrounding it, including the stories that it is an active working portal that transports beings into and out of this world.
The doorway can be found about a mile from the shores of Lake Titicaca, in a field where a sharp vertical outcropping of sand stone rises straight up out of the Altiplano. This region is in the middle of nowhere. The local inhabitants are very poor farmers and they farm the fields right in front of this doorway. They are afraid of this place and will not come near it at night, when it becomes active. There are stories of children playing at the doorway and disappearing into it, never returning. Strange looking beings dressed in unusual clothing have been reported walking in and out of the doorway for centuries and sometimes they headed right towards Lake Titicaca, only to disappear into the darkness. Last August I was with a small group of seven exploring ancient sites and temple ruins in Bolivia and southern Peru in the legendary southern region of Lake Titicaca where we planned to stop in at the doorway one evening where some of us would attempt to activate it. Our tour guide, Jerry Wills had gone through the doorway about ten years earlier. His experience there was incredible. He also had such a respect for the doorway that he did not want to go through it again.
The Mysterious Doorway of Amaru Muru, continued Jerry had met an old local shaman named Pedro who told him about the doorway and how to activate it. Pedro told Jerry that the doorway is activated at night, and that he must kneel in it, place his forehead in a special recess in the back side of the opening. Then placing his hands on either side, he was to chant three tones.
Peru Amaru Muru
Lake Titicaca Bolivia
The sound from these tones resonates in the cavity which activates it. Pedro said that one must have a clear idea of their destination, and they would go there instantly. When the three tones are done correctly, the user will suddenly experience the feeling of falling forward. That can be very unsettling, as there will be no way to brace yourself once this happens. When Jerry did this the first time, in front of several witnesses, he shimmered and faded from view. About one and a half minutes later, he reappeared, shimmering. For him, his journey seemed to last many hours, and took him to an incredible place beyond this universe. His journey back was not so smooth, and he was stuck behind the doorway, unable to find a way out. He was in a small dark cavity behind the doorway, and could see out one side. He could see Lake Titicaca in the distance, yet the opening was solid and would not yield. He found it difficult to breathe and as he felt around with his hands, he realized that there was a opening carved into the wall that was just like the opening on the other side. He found the depression where his forehead was to go, and he knelt down in the opening and started chanting the tones. Moments later he was on the outside of the doorway. We were planning on going to the doorway near then end of this leg of the tour. Finally the day came when we would activate the doorway. I was with a group of eight; one local guide, the tour operators, Jerry & Kathy Wills, and five others. Out of the group, initially only three of us were planning on accessing the doorway. The doorway becomes active after dark. For some reason, light seems to diminish or even stop it from working, so we planned to use it in the dark. The doorway and the surrounding area, photography by Mark Felder
We arrived by our small private bus about an hour before dark. We parked in a field and walked across the field to the doorway where we explored the area and got familiar with the site. At dusk, we made our plans, went over the three tones needed to activate the door and then the contingency plans, in case someone went through, but didn’t return in a reasonable amount of time. If someone didn’t return, we were going to leave rocks near the doorway, one for each hour we waited. That way, if the person returned and no one was there, they would know how long we waited before we left. We decided we’d wait at least three hours before leaving. Supposedly, we thought that if one went through, they would return, on this side’s time frame, within a minute or two, even though it may have seemed much longer on the other side. The fact is, we knew very little about how it works, what actually happens, and whether or not one could return, depending on what their experience was after passing through. All we had to go on was Jerry’s experience from ten years ago when he went through. And he was not planning on trying it again. We were all going to stay about 40 feet back from the doorway while someone was using it. There was an area with large rocks on which to sit, watch, and listen. We would wait until total darkness, use absolutely no lights, and just let things play out as they will. Kathy was going to shoot video with a night vision camera of each of us after our turn at the doorway. This video will be available on the net sometime in the future. We all gave our word not to reveal the three tones to anyone, and then agreed to a disclaimer of liability in case anything happened. This was all recorded on video as well. Then we went over the three tones several times — including Jerry’s account of how he got stuck in the doorway, and how he was able to get out. Meanwhile, darkness came swiftly. Along with the darkness, came a perfectly clear sky and stars, but no moon. There was a drastic drop in temperature as well. We were expecting it to drop to just below freezing. Then a cold wind started to blow through. The entire group fell uncannily silent as we pondered what we were actually going to attempt, and the uncertainty of what was waiting for each of us. During this, energy started pouring out of the doorway. The outer edge of it began glowing a very soft whitish green. The interior of it went exceptionally black. The energy was coming out in waves, literally, as if we were standing neck deep in ocean surf. It became difficult to keep our balance and we stumbled about in the darkness on the rocks and uneven ground. Even sitting down, which helped provide stability didn’t alleviate the strong push/pull of the doorways energy. Our eyes adjusted to the starlight and it was possible to just barely see enough to get around. The air was so cold and crisp. Even the tiniest sounds were easy to hear from great distances, as there was a highway, about a quarter of a mile away, which ran miles farther, and long before headlights were detected miles away, we could clearly hear the trucks.
Meanwhile, darkness came swiftly. Along with the darkness, came a perfectly clear sky and stars, but no moon. There was a drastic drop in temperature as well. We were expecting it to drop to just below freezing. Then a cold wind started to blow through. The entire group fell uncannily silent as we pondered what we were actually going to attempt, and the uncertainty of what was waiting for each of us. During this, energy started pouring out of the doorway. The outer edge of it began glowing a very soft whitish green. The interior of it went exceptionally black.
The Mysterious Doorway of Amaru Muru, continued
Finally, it was time for someone to activate the doorway. I volunteered to go first, much to the relief of the other two guys. Jerry came up to me, offered his support and well wishes for safe journey. Then the others did the same and I stumbled off to the doorway in the blackness. I had my backpack with me. In it were my 35mm camera, a ﬂashlight, my journal, and a digital voice recorder. I was going to try to document my journey as well as possible. Photos, if they worked, would be awesome, recorded sounds or conversations would be priceless, and lastly journal notes would be an excellent resource for recalling details later. The access to the doorway is up a 4 foot steeply rolling ledge of sandstone which runs parallel to its face. The ledge then ﬂattens out and becomes a rather narrow foot and a half wide. There are loose rocks scattered all over the area below the ledge, making walking a bit tricky. I found the ledge, and crawled up. There, just inches in front of the black portal, I stopped. The energy was pouring out of the opening in huge waves. It was difficult to stand up on the ledge and keep my balance. I steadied myself on the opening, took one last look up at the incredible starry sky, and knelt down on the stony sill. The group behind me stopped talking, the cold wind stopped blowing. Utter silence closed in on me.
I found with my hand the indentation where my forehead was to go. The smell of Wachuma was strong, as someone must have splashed it on the inner portions of the door from some previous ceremony. Also, there was virtually no air to breathe. It was if I was in a vacuum. I struggled to inhale, to fi ll my lungs. So I leaned back, my head out of the opening, and I could breathe, and back inside, no air. It wasn’t my body’s position preventing me from breathing, it was my location. I leaned back sucked in a lung full or air, placed my head in the pocket and started the first tone. Meanwhile, the air temperature started dropping rapidly. I adjusted the tone to get the maximum resonance, as this was the key. Quickly, I was out of breath, and not wanting to move, I struggled to suck in more air, and started the second tone. I chanted this one a bit quicker. The doorway began to pulse slowly, sucking me in, and pushing me out, as if it were breathing in long deep breaths. I concentrated on making the tones the best I could, repeating the first two, adjusting them intuitively. Meanwhile, my knees were very uncomfortable, without padding on the rough rock sill, and I was having a very difficult time breathing and making the tones. This was not as easy as I was hoping it would be. My mind was grokking the intense reality of what I was attempting to do. I was trying to pass through a portal made of stone, in total darkness, alone, without any real preparations for such a journey, thousands of miles away from home, in a strange country, high up in the mountains, with a tiny group of newly made friends watching. This may very well be my last moments in this world. My thoughts then were of the beings that must have come through this very spot from other worlds, and of those who chose to exit from here, and the thoughts of uncertainty and the unknown that they too must have had. There was only one story of anyone ever returning from going through from this side. That person was Jerry, who fortunately was there watching. Not that he could do anything if I encountered a situation, but he was there, just the same. I was now completely on my own. No one could help me if I were to have problems. No one would know where I went or what happened to me or why, if I didn’t return. I had to trust completely in myself with no reservations, trust in my knowledge, and trust the universe. I firmly fixed my destination in my mind and chanted the first two tones again, and followed immediately with the third. Everything started moving in all directions at once. To be continued with Part 2, in the next issue…
February 20th – March 20th Pisces is the twelfth constellation of the Zodiac. According to Greek myths, they are the dolphins who helped Aphrodite and Eros (the goddess of love and her son) escape the fury of Typhon, the last of the sons of Gaia, the Earth goddess.
Alternatively, they are considered to be the pair of gods themselves, turning into fishes to hide underwater until it would be safe to come to the surface. Typhon, symbolizing the deep powerful forces of the Earth, was later subdued by Zeus after a long battle, and buried under Mount Etna.
I am known in Cebu and in parts of the Philippines as Bart Boy Kiamko. I began painting professionally in 1973. An impressionist for the first few years via outdoor paintings, I became a realist painter as I recorded the past and present scenes around me and subsequently a cubist as I matured in my quest for art. A matter of being skillful to being creative.
Abundance by Bart Boy Kiamko
“Abundance” is my first painting for the year 2009. The title suggests that 2009 will be a good year for all of us. Abundance and prosperity will be enjoyed throughout the whole year.
Medium: acrylic on canvas Dimension: 39” x 48” Date finished: january 2009
The fern Function • Helps tune into the natural sense of growth and unfolding of a process.
by Jean-Baptiﬆe Duret
Families • Sumaﬁ, Tumold, Ilda Significance • This tile represents the multiple aspects of the unfolding of any given process: both the main line(s) and also the myriad of offshoots all necessary to the whole. This definition of ‘process’ is not limited to our physical reality but straddles many dimensions and many areas of consciousness. In that respect, it is the representation of a collective and of a source event which gives birth to many offshoots manifested into physical realities. Interpretation • The triangle represents the pyramid action which is a symbolic representation of foundations and support whereas the green circle (or sphere) represents a connective point between all the realities participating in the event. The spiral form of the fern is connected with change and movement and also represents the cycles in manifestations. As an advice • Whenever you ﬁnd this tile, you can remember to relax and stop pushing in the direction you desire; the energy has been expressed and even though you’re not yet in the centre of the spiral, if you pay attention you can already see it manifested in your reality in many forms. First appearance • February 2009
find more on the tiles at jorid.elikozoe.net
Tile of the Month
In continuation of last month’s article (A Tale of Two Cities) about tiles explorations, each month there will be a new tile in Wisp, with its meaning, so that you can start to play too.
photography by Jean-Baptiste Duret
The Essence of Yum
Do it for the Kipper by Marcy Singer
recently received my weekly email ‘Notes from the Test Kitchen – Recipes that Work.’ It’s sent out regularly from America’s Test Kitchen, a real test kitchen just outside of Boston, run by Christopher Kimball who publishes Cook’s Illustrated, Cook’s Country, many cookbooks, and who maintains several cooking websites. At the kitchen they test not only recipes but also cooking utensils, comparing brands and prices, as well as things like Balsamic vinegar and imported cinnamon.
I think that’s where my ‘beginner’s luck’ comes from. Whenever I try something new I always just do it for fun and don’t place pressure on myself to be an instant success. In fact when I’m making a new recipe, I always assume that it won’t be the way I want it until I work with it awhile. And if it does work out well the first time, yay! And if it doesn’t, I still had fun, and I’ll keep at it until I either create what I want or get bored and go on to something else.
And when I mean they ‘test recipes,’ I don’t mean they try them out once or twice. They prepare them scores of times, sometimes as many as 100 times, trying this or that, making changes and improvements, until they end up with recipes that always turn out right for anyone.
So I’ve decided that along with sharing some of my yummy recipes I might also pass along a few of my own hints and tips and comments so that I might give people the confidence and inspiration to get out into the kitchen (or whatever area of life you like) and do some new things and have some fun. You know, just for the halibut.
So it got me thinking about this idea of experimentation and trying new things and how many, many people are so afraid of ‘failure’ that they never try things in the first place, whether it’s cooking or creating a relationship or applying for a new job.
TODAY’S TIP: When you go to the store be on the lookout for unexpected bargains and sales. I always take a list (so I don’t forget anything) but still remain alert for any special deals that will save me money in the long run. Like today I found sweet green bell peppers for 50 cents at Kroger! Can’t beat a deal like that, so I bought three extra ones, diced them up and put them in a Ziploc bag and into the freezer they went for the next time I want green peppers for a soup or fajitas or pepper steak and they are $1.00 apiece at the store.
And I think it’s simply a matter of how you look at it. If you’re all tense and serious and have the attitude that you have to ‘get it right’ the first time or you are a failure, you will not only set yourself up for grave disappointment but will most likely become a self-fulfi lling prophecy.
photography by Elikozoe, illustrations by DaPino Webdesign
It’s like in life. Make your plan and take your ‘list’, but keep your eyes and ears open and remain ﬂexible or you just might miss that wonderful surprise you weren’t even looking for.
photography by Tracy Marshall
The intention of WISP is to provide a place for personal stories; inspirational, light, humorous, challenging or anything in between… and beyond. We would welcome any kind of personal writing, artistic works, poems, essays, etc. Find previous issues and all published stories on our website…
http://wisp.focusphere.net Wisp e-zine — Issue #10 — February–March 2009
ISSN 1760-4796 — No part of this magazine may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher