codex A

CODEX A

Now that Libido no longer holds her razor to my throat, should the anti-climax surprise me? Oh sure, there is a glorious freedom in no longer having the biological imperative marauding through my thoughts and thighs when there are better things to do. Still, this wondrous liberation, this merciful escape from a ravenous oppressor, leaves me feeling nothing more than simple relief.
 I thought I would become so productive, so industrious with my mind no longer shackled to desire. Indeed, there is even an odd lethargic guilt involved with this abuse of my state of grace. I am not productive. Reading and smoking I certainly accomplish with considerable industry despite the immobility required.

She just can't get enough smoke. Chaotic storms, oceans, ages, the Vortex Ethereal fills her up till she can barely breathe. How to communicate such things? It puzzles her. Anyway, the desire to communicate is one of the things that have dramatically deteriorated since her liberation from libido. Is she content to just imagine what she would do if she was really her? Changeling truly is puzzled. She is far too willing to merely imagine what her work would look like if she could be bothered to bring them into being. Right now she is held in the hand of Erzulie and that too is a relief. She surrenders to total indolence, self indulgence the absolute rule. She wallows in sloth. The process of enactment to memory is piled in heaps all around her. In a large faded old wing chair, in the corner of a dark damp basement she reclines, half on the foot-stool, a crumpled mound of laundry clutching her e-reader. A reading light shines down like the sun upon her. The smoke is the atmosphere of her planet turning magically to salt heavy mist or whistling wind, choirs of trees dancing their song and the cold new snow taking the world beneath angel wings.


Prophet assures her that if she is content to just dream then she must cease punishing herself for it. How is the body to be kept alive if it lives in a dream? She is aware that the body itself is only a dream, one of many. She looks into Shamanic studies. There is no doubt she could become an accomplished herbalist, healer, story-teller. Does she enjoy poverty? Not exactly, she is resigned to it. Anything else requires too much documentation. She has never even had a credit card except for a brief period in the desert of knowledge when she had a subsidiary card to Leprechaun's AMX. In very short order between the two of them, they had spent more than they could repay and were summarily cut off. At the time the debt, a matter of less than 1000 dollars, seemed enormous. In fear, they paid it off as quickly as possible and Changeling has never been tempted to try it again. Fear of what? Fear of shame, the disgrace of having mismanaged the sacred money. The degradation of economic rejection, poverty is not so much a crime as a contagious illness, the fear of ostracism and indifference if you are of no account.


So speaks the grasshopper, you might think, if you happen to be an ant. Is there a justice here or simply inevitability? Those who are different than the others are necessary for adaptation, the odd ones exist because the possibility of the environment shifting to their parameters exist within your own. Singularity represents the potential for mass deviation should the circumstances of existence require it. It is all a great, resonant, prismatic vortex, the Vortex Ethereal, darkly, perfumed brilliant symphonies echoe to infinity made of stars. The cat headed ship has been so long off the shores of Prosaica that Changeling has relinquished her mission. Not that it can be put off forever, she knows that, but she really needs the entire crew.

If you go out in the woods today you better go in disguise

Why Doesn't The Whole World Hate Money?

I hate money. It is the stupidest reason to do something, I think. That could be the problem, wanting to do things rather than have things. On the other hand, is it really a problem? Could it be an advantage? I am hoping that if I can only manage to do the things I want to it won't matter if I have much money. I want to integrate my experiences as an artist and caregiver. Ideally, I would train artists to be caregivers and caregivers to be artists. Understand, that actual works of art are almost incidental in my philosophy. The art object or objective is not as important as it's making. The value of Creative Art Therapy (CAT)is all in the process. Self expression and discovery are the rewards of creative work. The solution to stress is play, freedom from rules. Time is more important than money. I heard someone say, "you can always make more money, you can never make more time." A very important thing to remember in my opinion. What you do matters. Don't doubt it for a second.

How the Hell does this work

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