Astronomy for Amateurs
by Camille Flammarion (1842-1925) astronomer and spiritualist, translated by Frances A. Welby, is published by Appleton, New York, 1904. In the library catalogue [Shelf F2] of Edgar Rice Burroughs.
"Woodcut" engraving, 1888, from Camille Flammarion's "L'atmosphere: Meterologie Populaire."
My brilliant friend the accomplished and prolific artist M.W. Nolden at Rabbit Meets Hat sent me this image with the message, "How I see you these days."
I am flattered. Poking my head through the veil of this plane of existence, forcing my way into the next level of consciousness.
I'm not there yet, but I'm trying.
Sunday I went to the Brewery Art Show, accompanied by the extraordinarily well-versed, informed and totally connected writer and raconteur A.C. of L.A. Brain Terrain and L.A. Observed. Profitable browsing at BookFinger's (Jim Thompson's immortal classic "Population 1280" and several others), lunch at Barbara's and some leisurely people watching and studio visiting. As is my habit, I looked about the vast converted industrial campus and tried to imagine myself living here, in East L.A., in a former cold storage facility or storage locker or warehouse loft space, the Five Freeway rushing by. I'm not an artist, there's a long waiting list, and it's miles from my usual haunts, but I thought about it. Decided I'm still leaning toward the ashram in India. Or Michigan.
Waking dream last night: I'm on a familiar parapet. People are passing out and falling off and hurtling to the street far below. I'm humming Bob Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower." I am dressed in a trenchcoat like Tintin, but I know that tomorrow's headlines will read, "Pope Apologizes to Harry Potter, Says He Fared No Better Against Forces of Darkness, Voldemart." In the dream I am Harry. Or Antoine Doinel (I was watching Domicile Conjugal) -- there's a kind of resemblance.
I woke up thinking about the metaphysician Neville and how he would talk about the different levels of consciousness and how to attain them. But it's no small task.
"To see God everywhere, you have to have special eyes, otherwise you cannot bear the shock." Neem Karoli Baba.
"Woodcut" engraving, 1888, from Camille Flammarion's "L'atmosphere: Meterologie Populaire." My brilliant friend the accomplished and prolific artist M.W. Nolden at Rabbit Meets Hat sent me this image with the message, "How I see you these days."
I am flattered. Poking my head through the veil of this plane of existence, forcing my way into the next level of consciousness.
I'm not there yet, but I'm trying.
Sunday I went to the Brewery Art Show, accompanied by the extraordinarily well-versed, informed and totally connected writer and raconteur A.C. of L.A. Brain Terrain and L.A. Observed. Profitable browsing at BookFinger's (Jim Thompson's immortal classic "Population 1280" and several others), lunch at Barbara's and some leisurely people watching and studio visiting. As is my habit, I looked about the vast converted industrial campus and tried to imagine myself living here, in East L.A., in a former cold storage facility or storage locker or warehouse loft space, the Five Freeway rushing by. I'm not an artist, there's a long waiting list, and it's miles from my usual haunts, but I thought about it. Decided I'm still leaning toward the ashram in India. Or Michigan.
Waking dream last night: I'm on a familiar parapet. People are passing out and falling off and hurtling to the street far below. I'm humming Bob Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower." I am dressed in a trenchcoat like Tintin, but I know that tomorrow's headlines will read, "Pope Apologizes to Harry Potter, Says He Fared No Better Against Forces of Darkness, Voldemart." In the dream I am Harry. Or Antoine Doinel (I was watching Domicile Conjugal) -- there's a kind of resemblance.
I woke up thinking about the metaphysician Neville and how he would talk about the different levels of consciousness and how to attain them. But it's no small task.
"To see God everywhere, you have to have special eyes, otherwise you cannot bear the shock." Neem Karoli Baba.
this looks like a combination of major cards...or an old fool and the world..with a little sun flung in. not bad, not bad at all.
i have to go read my cards again.
xxx
oh, oh. thanks for the LA BRAIN. and more importantly, the end quote.
xxx
Reply to this
Darling. How DO you pull things together like that?!
You know, it frightens me sometimes. By the way ~ check your e-mail. I sent you the prospectus for your new home...
It's Divine.
Reply to this