Always…….

Minority Rites – Julie Dowling
http://www.aboriginal-art.de/EN/themen_christentum.htm

Last Day 2019

I’m waking up, I feel it in my bones
Enough to make my systems blow
Welcome to the new age, to the new age
Welcome to the new age, to the new age

I raise my flags, don my clothes
It’s a revolution, I suppose
We’ll paint it red to fit right in
Whoa

I’m breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus
This is it, the apocalypse

The Last Post

 

STORIES

The stories we live in, my stories and yours,
knit from the wool of our ancestors,
spun on family helixes,
hold our worlds together – for a span.
Garments of swaddle and comfort,
patterns set in warp and weft,
bequeathed by “her” story and “his”
name, tribe, role and fate.

Graciously they wear thin, these stories;
shiny with overuse, one strand tears, and another,
until the fabric falters
under the weight and stock of incarnation.
Stories that once held worlds together
rip and split so that we can fall –
shredded and unraveled –
into mystery.

Here there is nothing;
nothing, but to wait
in the expanse of silence.
Wait until new fibers accrue
and the cosmic force returns
to thrust a greening axis
into the center
and possibility is reborn.

I used to prefer the old stories
with familiar beginnings and ends,
comforted by convention;
the liminal darkness, the unknowing averted.
But now, at last, I am curious
or exhausted,
or perhaps have simply lost my place.

I slip between worlds,
into the darkness,
into the spacious silence,
to wait for the opening line
of a story that has never been told,
a story that begins with a smooth round
circle of breath –
the story that truly begins with
“Once….”

… Joyce Pace Byrd,
Poems From The Labyrinth

East Myth ~ Amethyst

October 2, 2009

This is the violet hour, the hour of hush and wonder, when the affections glow again and valor is reborn, when the shadows deepen magically along the edge of the forest and we believe that, if we watch carefully, at any moment we may see the unicorn.

Bernard de Voto – “The Hour”

 

The Effect of Internet Trolls on Woman-in-the-Moon marigolds

 

"Raven Woman" ~ Susan Seddon Boulet

Ravenesque Tarot Closure

Due to continued negativity in email, I am taking my own advice and moving towards happier activities. Perhaps it is the Scorpio south node, or saturns journey back onto my moon, but I have three teens and I really do not have the desire to wake up to public rudeness, or abuse. Apart from the obvious of not being paid enough to tolerate ill treatment, some days no money would be enough to read some peoples toxicity. Whilst I appreciate that the actions of so few should not cause an upset for the majority, I didn’t realise how tired I am of the bad manners of the internet. Perhaps I will return to face to face readings at some point in time.

Thanks to everyone who has been loving, supportive and most of all, positive.

Thank you also to my family for being supportive this time around, so that my final decision was my own.

From the Muse

Ravenesque Tarot was a terrific resource for all things asteroidal. This is a sad loss for the astro-community as the site is now down and all Ravenesque’s writings are have become unavailable.  I am grateful to Ravenesque for the insights I gained over the years through reading her essays on the asteroids, which were one-of-a-kind. 

Beat the drum slowly, Owl.

…and dust from a distant sun, will shower over everyone

Distant Sun

Believe me, it is no teaching and instruction I give you. On what basis should I presume to teach you? I give you news of the way of this man, but not of your own way. My path is not your path, therefore I cannot teach you. The way is within us, but not in Gods, nor in teachings, nor in laws. Within us is the way, the truth, and the life”. ~ Carl Jung, p. 231, The Red Book

17 Elul, 5771

 

Noah the Dove foster-mother to a rabbit kitten

Image Source: Justonemorepet

On this day in 2105 BCE, Noah Dispatches Dove

Following the failed attempt to dispatch a raven from the ark Noah sent a dove from the window of the ark to see if the great Flood that covered the earth had abated. “But the dove found no resting place for the sole of its foot” and returned to the ark; Noah waited seven days before making another attempt.

Alias Bill

William Warner (Cheiro) 1866-1936

Image sourced from free-numerology

Cheiro was one of the most famous and colorful occult figures of the early Twentieth Century .He was a clairvoyant who used palmistry, astrology, and Chaldean numerology, to make startlingly accurate predictions, including world events. Born in Ireland as William John Warner, on November 1, 1866 (6)  Cheiro also went by the name Count Louis Hamon, claiming a noble ancestry that may or may not have been accurate.

His name, Cheiro, (pronouced ki-ro) derives from the word cheiromancy which means the Art/Science of Palmistry (hand reading).

He read the hands of Prince Edward the Prince of Wales, General Kitchener, William Gladstone, Joseph Chamberlain as well as other leading military, judicial and political figures from both Europe and America. He also read the hands of many literary and artistic figures such as Mark Twain, Sarah Bernhardt and Oscar Wilde – along with a tale to tell about how he met them and their reactions to his pronouncements. Mark Twain included references to fingerprint identification in one of his novels (‘Puddin’head Wilson’) and Oscar Wilde was so stunned by what Cheiro had to say to him that he penned a short story (‘Lord Arthur Saville’s Crime’) based on this encounter.  Cheiro’s ability as a predictive palmist is legendary and with such a range of respectable and eminent people to attest to it, it cannot seriously be doubted.

The title and tone of Warner/Cheiro’s autobiography, ‘Confessions – Memoirs of a Modern Seer’ suggests that he very much saw himself as a gifted psychic and intuitive and he most certainly liked to present himself in that way.   He was involved with the Rosicrucians and had close connections with various spiritualist groups and psychic mediums, and, at various times, Cheiro also worked as a journalist, ran a champagne business, owned two French newspapers, ran a chemical factory in Ireland and later was to become a scriptwriter in California for Hollywood films. It has also been suggested that he was also a secret agent for the British Government.  Whilst very little actual chirology can be learnt from reading the works of Cheiro, they do reveal some things about his character and temperament. Although a courteous and undoubtedly charming man, he seems also to have been somewhat arrogant and boastful. He had a lively imagination and a gift for distorting facts and embellishing stories. He was a smoothtalker as well as a natural entertainer and these qualities undoubtedly assisted his chirological career even though it may make it difficult to establish the true facts of the story of this enigmatic man.

After an illustrious career of a highly popular and respected occult personality, Cheiro died on October 8, 1936, in Hollywood, CA, at the age of 69.

Joyce Mason, long-time editor of the much-missed Chironicles, remarks, “Do you suppose Cheiro knew the legend of Chiron? Cheiron is one spelling of Chiron, and of course, Chiron rules hands and all kinds of esoteric arts, especially ones that involve the hands (palmistry) or come through them in some form (tarot)…….and he was born on Chiron’s ‘Birthday’, though 111 years earlier. Chiron’s discovery date was November 1, 1977” (from solsticepoint memorial to Cheiro)

Squirrel prints in snow

Text sourced from johnnyfincham.com

 

Aphrodite Sez

Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward

Image sourced from armchairaudience

“The big difference between people is not between the rich and the poor, the good and the evil.  The biggest of all differences between people is between those who have had pleasure in love and those who haven’t.”
Sweet Bird of Youth (1962) – Chance Wayne (Paul Newman

…and now a word from another blog

ies

Memoirs of a Female Vagrant

Mary Saxby (1738-1801): 

The girl who ran away with the gypsies

 

Mary Saxby’s autobiography, Memoirs of a Female Vagrant, was published after her death in 1806, and it is fascinating story of a rebellious 18th century woman.

 

Mary was born in London, in 1738. Her mother, Susanna died early, and her silk-weaver father John Howell joined the army, leaving Mary to be passed from ‘one relation to another’, never staying long, ‘in consequence of my perverse temper’. Her father eventually returned with a ‘serious’ stepmother, much to Mary’s displeasure, and before reaching her teens she ran away from home.

She lived on ‘rotten apples, or cabbage stalks’ and ‘what the hedges afforded’, while fending off ‘wicked men’ and tramping the countryside around Bedfordshire, Northamptonshire, and Buckinghamshire. Soon, Mary was ‘nearly perished with cold and hunger’ and ‘in a dismal plight’, and would have died, if she had not found a protector, ‘a poor travelling woman’ with three daughters of her own. [read more at Writing Women’s History]