Old men alone

Mentors, as care givers, are impossible to love. Cannot become lovers sexually or be married to covenantal. Marriage being an institution unto itself; the rewards are different and have consequences destructive to transparent honesty. 

I found myself at the threshold of another conviction apprehending that for whatever life is left to me I would/will be by choice: celibate. Not unusual for one who has been a failure at all previous attempts to be either married or just fooling around. 

After posting my previous entry I called the trusted one and expressed my gratitude. She is also near death as I and M are. Time becomes precious as we age and realize that it is more valuable than money, acclaim, or having some one to respond to our love 24/7/365 physically present and accounted for. 

When CG Jung spoke of wisdom inevitable as we age, I now think he was using complex ideal words to say: "Don't sweat the small stuff!"

From the get-go M has never been a simple question to me. As boy and man I've always, until now, fallen over my feet -- calling myself: Lurch! -- whenever I felt gratitude for a friend: man or woman. The male mentor, a dear friend from long ago when first I began this journey, is not a problem. Women are!

Through the process of writing I have become more intimate with myself. I love and like what I've found out about me discovered by keeping a personal journal. I and It is not for sale. I believe and have faith in it providential. Thus does not belong to me but instead is for whoever succeeds me; the next generation for example. 

I have many envisioning's about what will happen to my soul/self after death. But when confronted with loving people, as my three mentors obviously do. I am mum. When we die, joining the democracy of the dead, we do so alone. I know by faith and reading the words, as prayers, or otherwise, other authors and their similar ideation. Bereft of ego concerns.

I live in the "Borderlands" next to Mexico; another sovereign country. Where most Americans think I live in a newer version: New Mexico--part of the United States of America. Most of my neighbors speak "Spanglish" and I have learned from them to say; thank you, hello, goodbye, etc. in their language.

Throughout the afternoon I heard the voices of children, a rarity here since the community is dedicated to the elderly. Some are fully mobile, others rely upon the municipal bus system: door-to-door or via routes and bus stops. Others are carried in by their children and left alone to die. Others, more often, are carried away in Emergency Vehicles; some return, others do not.

He was a quiet man who shuffled in old age, older and less vigorous than I, past my front windows going and coming. I would look out for and after him whenever he was gone for more than a day. His family removed all his belongings this afternoon, his grandson telling me in perfect English that he was looking forward to living full time with his grand dad. I will continue to pray for him yet no longer concerned that he is dead or alive.

When you pray answers are given. Not always what you want, just what you need. I am happily alone with Annie and my Lucky Bamboo plants. Life goes on with or without me. For some people the glass is always half empty and they seem to fear it will be too soon empty. For me, however, the glass is half full and always enough for my thirst.

120930 15:22 love - to have and give ( Old men alone )
©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

Free association synchronicity - a triptych tapestry

My son Randy's all time favorite color was purple. 
I was on the phone with Ron Wolfe; a friend well versed in Photoshop, seeking his advice on sharpening a moderately "fuzzy" image. While outlining, in general conversation, that morning's posts--at that instant an Lavender SUV passed my window. 

I know, for most of the people I have conversations with, only those well versed in the Bible could understand. Currently there is only one with whom I'd dare suggest the impact upon me. It closely followed on the heels of what I'd just written/posted regarding my mother's forgiveness for losing her men's high school ring intended for a son: eliciting deeply painful memories; complete with scenarios replaying the sights, sounds, smells and feeling in depth and excruciating. 

These events are not unusual to me. They are frequent. I note them but do not stop to annotate them as coincidental currency. Nor do I make it a practice to inform anyone about them. 

I have held, for most of my adult life, a sense of the Bible, suggesting to me: Make no monuments: elect no King, Judge, Lawyer or Politician. Instead to form a personal relationship with what/who we call "God." . . .To trust/fear only God and make no other an authority. 

Until encountering the individual I have in mind, this sense was covert and inadmissible to anyone I did not trust emphatically. 

There were several incendiary remarks made by my first wife: up-front-and personal. To which I would now respond differently. 

I could write a novel, play or epic poem out of what is passing through my mind's attention now. I decline the process. Abandoning it for what and how I reveal my process of becoming not merely 'sane' but more to suggest how you might achieve the same 'goal' or state of mind.

Authority of Church and/or State is expressed as power. Regarding which there are several problems: To make no apologies since to do so would--potentially--invalidate all previous laws. Or other statements reinforcing the authority of those in power. 

Instead of detailing the nature of power published by Church & State as Law. I would direct your attention to the primary source of authority beginning with you parents; their life and times including any unusual or extreme views on what you should learn in order to survive and be a successful person.

This was the primary engine of my dysfunctions. In retrospect the problems I experienced taught me how to thrive in the presence of The Author of Life. God has no ego. I do, however, retain some pretence and delusions of being an author. It now seems that these motives are getting in my way. And the effort to encourage self knowledge: independence, fearlessness, creativity. Adding to the benefit of all others. Not merely to or for yourself. 

No one individual or institution has the authority to enslave. All life is equal in its right to be what it is. Not defined by someone else as worthy or unworthy of life. 

My experience of synchronicity is indicative of a "Higher Power." Someone vastly greater, more wise, merciful, forgiving and knowing than anyone I have ever read, known via the vast array of personalities, politicians, celebrities encountered in my profession of photojournalism. Sincerely I can count on the fingers of one hand those who impressed me. On the other hand I have not enough hair to count the ordinary, common, pedestrians that I celebrate in my memory. 

In conclusion I have found within myself, and others, who I remember best as being those who give instead of take. I celebrate and love best my "Higher Power" dissociated from the many religions who use the name of "God" to destroy versus build the higher consciousness of responsible and participation in the commonwealth of all life. Each unique life form serves a special purpose necessary to the function of our world. However there are a few, the 1%, who would, and in a profound sense, have, destroyed the economy and environment. No part of life is to be despised or destroyed because it is inconvenient to the authorities or the remaining 99%. 

The Ten Commandments is the property of no one religion and stem from oral history predating all known civilization. Creation continues in each of and is not exclusive to any one race, creed or gender. I will continue my argument for your creativity . . . the self you create from all the raw material of your life is the greatest art. The art of living fully; free from fear of anything. You become a gift to others versus a thief of all meaning and value. 

120930 12:10 day after virgin rebirth

We all suffer from life. 
No exceptions allowed.
Equally, or more importantly, is happiness or joy.

My experience is that 'happiness' is more money, a new puppy, car, home, love affair or hoarding more of the same. Joy is the ongoing transformations from happiness to trust, friendship and tenured confidence. And in loss the healing of grief. Celebrating that it happened, the joy lost, at all. Sufficient.

In my own experience. The failure to grow was essentially a repeat of prior failures. To achieve wisdom I had to take responsibility for the all my former relationship failures. The balance point between failure and success cannot be measured by anyone other than myself. Love is given, sometimes received/returned, but my sense now is that love is my gift to another regardless of age, gender, creed without need for acknowledgement. . . .Praise, acknowledgement or repayment.

In recent events, just these past few days, I've come to recognize that my love for my parents; especially mother; was okay, received and acknowledged many years after her death. The same may be true of my father but I have nothing beyond his telephoning me, moments before his death, to say goodbye.

I have been unable to ask for anything from a woman because of my difficult and long suffering relationship between mother and myself. What I recorded about her high school ring yesterday was a miracle healing my dependence upon--the giving of all--power of life and death--to a woman. 

I have a friend I call M. Who to me is the greatest love I've ever known in seventy-two years of living. She is nominally older than myself and though I told her long ago I wanted to make love, to, or with her, she replied; "I am not comfortable with that." 

That was nearly five years ago when she saved me from suicide. Since that time she has seen me 'in action' towards other women of a younger age. And knows of my expectations beyond mere flirting; what I've have discussed with her. The most recent was a simple statement; 'I would like to make love with a woman once before I die.' She indicated that it would be, for me, a good idea. It is important to remember that neither of us have ever been interested in "one-night-stands." Love making is too holy for that.

Recognized with her acceptance was the simple fact that there is no other woman for me. In a sense, there could never be another woman that I love to the degree, extent or kind, that I love her. If forced to prioritize love as experience in this moment it would be: God, Me, Annie (my rescue cat companion) and The Virgin Mary and/or M . . . the latter is a very difficult choice since I have met the Virgin Mary twice in dreams yet she never revealed her face to me. M occasionally claims she loves me and that is enough since I would accept her telling me to go to Hell literally and remember her last words to me as the most loving words ever heard from a real person. The same is equally true of God, were that God's judgement of, or will for, me. 

Oddly. Or no so oddly; I feared women more than what is suggested in the Bible: To Fear God is wisdom. Since my mother seemed then until her death, God to me.

In point of order/sequence: We both, M & me = M&M, faced terminal issues, mine now resolved, hers continuing on; assessed daily. I experience a sense of the importance in each moment. Love & Life being a combination of fragility, resilience and grit. 

Personally I am as casual about death as I am about birth. It takes far more courage to live than to die. Yet in death we will be together since God is Love and more powerful than the end of our world would imply.

120930 07:10 free association

The Creation Myth, in the Occidental wisdom book: The Bible. Is wonderful! Memorable and easily understood. However in Kenneth Clark's "CIVILIZATION" there is a fleeting remark implying his favor for woman being first and men derived from her. 

I have never taken the Bible literally. I do not worship or idolize books. Rather it is my sense that he may be correct in his assessment: given that women are the largest group of subjugated, oppressed and enslaved people on earth. 

Add to which the Bible as written is 'inspired,' not written, by God. Who to me is The Author of Life: that which and who I do worship, adore and listen for/to. Obviously God remains mute on the issue yet vocal on others I refuse to detail since it is your finding your authority I am concerned with in all that I write. 

Imagine humankind attempting to travel the path to the one source defined in one hundred different ways moving forward on one leg.

Ludicrous!

Is it no so? Or similar, to conduct affairs of Church & State in the same way? For example: my constant rehearsal of life with my mother prior to yesterday? Add all other references to women. My sense and experience of God is that God looks nothing like you or me, but is utterly different. 

We as American's worship and idolize The Bill of Rights and the Constitution without regard for the obvious transformations of privacy, usury, monetary value, meaning and value of life after global wars fought; and to be expected. By inference: war this time will be catastrophic or apocalyptic. 

The Supreme Court is making decisions based upon a bias established by the former Republican Administration. Meaning, to me, that possibly where we are is intentional or a mistake. Conservatism seems to them to be fore material. While my bias is always for life.

I apply the same standard of justice upon myself being curious, or mindful, of consequence.

I've made many ludicrous remarks and judgements against the laws of our land and those officers of the court who administer them. That was then--this is now. I've changed as I must given the evidence I use to argue my case without apologies. I was wrong.

Myth, like poetry or parables, expresses truths that otherwise would require proof. It is not what we say but what we do that is the final proof our truths. All civilizations rise and fail simply based upon what they do for the least of us: women and the poor remaining defenseless. 

At times I've experience my life as: 'road kill' or 'walking across a dark room covered with marbles, or eggs.' Or being--given my love affair playing with words: 'a Mirror Maze.' One must either remove or destroy the mirrors. Or find a path through them. I've done all three.

Albert Einstein expressed an active sense of gratitude for an other worldly intelligent energy guiding his accomplishments. A 'theology' if you will allow. From his results, conclusions, discoveries added to my own; I have faith in the following: 

The science of life: biology, physics, medicine, psychology or philosophy are valid only as working in terms of flesh and blood reality. Science is dependent upon myth as well as the Bible; both are inspired.

Truth. 

Unlike our current world sense of 'God.' Ideally being fixed and immutable. Our belief is subject to violent attacks based on definitions mutually exclusive to one belief construct or another. 

God answers prayers by individuals; we cannot change the world. But we can change how we experience it without addiction to crutches. Loving God is sane, though I myself have been insane in love at times, I now know perfect sanity and look forward to meeting God face-to-face. 

Albert Einstein said; “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

"It [gaming] is the child of avarice, the brother of iniquity, and the father of mischief." --George Washington

120930 08:53 history

©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

Uncle & aunt fuzzy sorry bout dat @ 1-2-4-3 Tellez Wedding!

Bertha & Ray Tellez marrying off their first daughter #2 2 Chris said she had her original wedding ring stolen someone broke into their or her home before during after? whatever happened when and why the stolen ring began a string of thoughts that slowly began to eviscerate me maybe dissolve? maybe not but it began to hurt and the water began to fill my eyes somewhat like looking like I was looking at the stations some had been stolen and were Xerox copies?
U know it used to be that when working it would be for me frenzy entering the cyclone of considering all the variables within potential capture inside the frame of what a camera sees so it follows that there are mom, dad and four girls of whom one is the bride to be soon married. . . .What's her name?
oh dear me What's her name? 2-3-1-4? not Bertha or Ray of course! I'd asked them to wear NFL Football Jerseys over their wedding costumes but they laughed and giggled and smirked at me (the really didn't understand my greed and need to direct the choreography of the wedding march to and from the alter since I am not ordained and Father Dom would have to kick me away from IT! . . . U know in times past I'd say the best thing that ever happened to me was learning to read the Dick & Jane Reader, then I discovered playing with myself---oh boy!---then girls---more better---kisses and things like that the trouble with kissing girls is that it leads to soooooo muuccchch more like .......................babies Well i really don't like boys all that much. what's a guy gonna do? moving right alone/along then came M im so crazy for M the best event of my life and maybe maybe not in heaven for me is to make M laugh. Robin Williams and Jonathan Winters make room for me in the funny farm fun house filled with distorting mirrors the carnival of wonder a MIRROR MAZE!!

U know i really shouldn't share this with you or anyone . . . shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhsh! can you keep a secret? I sometimes am seized by visions, omens, runes, ruins of my heart, visions and daydreams, myths and portents: things that just make me wanna run jump shout ride the ceiling fans going about completely nuts.

u sea Bertha said the wedding rings could be replaced but her high school class ring could not and she's worked long and hard to pay for that weeping blood and shedding sweat to purchase it and the thief or thieves Incorporated meaning the rights of individuals to bore me to tears with their greed well than I began to cry and had to walk away and make someone laugh before I became hysterical upon the floor a puddle of love evaporating like a jelly fish in July in the Death Valley abandoned when i was a little boy never really small but smaller than i am now i don't mean around! but as tall!@ Mom had this ring in her sewing basket and i saw it and asked what it was why what for and she said it was for me when I growed up and of course U sea i went crazy nuts wanting that ring right away and again and again i begged for it she eventually gave it to me a man's ring she bought for her graduation when she was a well just a girl and not a woman or mother of me for me and wearing it i lost it somewhere in the playground of Old Greenwich Elementary School and i remembered it was muddy and cold that day i died of shame weeping with guilt i wandered into dusk then dark then dawn looking for that ring oh Dear God why do i still love silent women? Wouldn't it have been better if she had beaten me to death or stabbed me with her pinking shears or used me for a thimble or pin cushion??????????????????????????????????????????
God U can't fool me since mom forgave me last night telling me it wasn't my fault since she could have wrapped the ring with band aids and it wouldn't have fallen off . . . I loved/love/will always love mom for ever.  Finally forgiven never forgotten in Maysville Kentucky

i have to say this i did wrong 4 wrong wrong 4 right 4 right and on and on ad infinitum in love for mom God as dad never really worked for me since he dad was just a clown silent watching not smirking but inert while she beat the tar out of me at times but that was all healed at the Tellez Wedding Rehearsal and by mom this morning sometime after midnight and there was is a full moon too, two 2 in a tutu dancing the best prayer after music but of course the two go together don't they!?
1209829 08:08 Tellez Wedding
©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

Death . . . of course Virginia there is that but lasting briefly but a moment the pain of leaving but of those left we who mourn the suffering is just begun save for but those of us know death a mercy for some. 

Love unending is the beginning and ending and the middle or substance of existence and lived or ignored and discovered only in the blinding binding light magnificent and for this we return perhaps to learn again that love is all there is.

What we love loves us, kisses of coins or flesh or wind vagrant touching and caressing us but a moment or more again and again Dragon Flies resting their long flight across Narragansett Bay upon cat's paws of little to no wind and upon arrival after hours of drifting or seemingly so aboard Lisa bass fastened not lasting electrolysis you know but long enough for upon the far shore dad leaned out and asked the clamer what state is this? Center Board Shoal Draft don't you know? Oh Dear Virginia. Don't you know nothing about boats and mucking about in them ecstatic and blessed-blissed out?

Holy Ghost Spiritual Host of All Clouds, Virginia, The emergent Mary marching from east to west whiting the clouds still in darkness Virginia know ye nothing of love? Let me show ye from the starry sailing about the midnight bereft moonless milky way Virginia.

Oh Virginia don't you know yourself a redeemer saviour prophet saint angel not merely a little girl in a gingham checked sailor suit with a skirt and pig tails beads and all intertwined and cornrows I love you so

&

death

hath

no

dominion

&

what's

god

call

U

when

wanting

to 

play?

120929 06:36 proof

©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

'words tattooed upon and within your heart '

moments in love
love loving you loving love
when it all the ecstasy and tragedy becomes one endless string of pearls and you are loved loving love loved you become the melting eye seeing it all a symphony of all love that ever was growing oceans and all the water in the entire cosmos is love loving love we’re all canaries in the coal mine called to sing and some do some don’t some won’t and some just lay there dead passing their songs along to others yet to be becoming love of themselves pearls in the continuity of love and in love names become meaningless fear gone forever more no more terrorist of fear since love is loved and accepted in whatever way it comes is love.

I buried her in Maysville Kentucky in a white refrigerator with gilt plastic handles mandated by the airline carrying her to me to put in her final resting place in Maysville Kentucky and Tom was bored because I couldn’t stop reciting from the Prayer Book Celebration of Internment and because I loved him and her and my sister I stopped and came to me last night and said; “Its okay son; “I loved you all along.” No exclamation mark no need shout or runabout singing or saying anything but the tears began then and quivered in my reserve of arrows loving their target and all the children beside her sang love is love loved the author of all love is love in chorus silently loving me loving them and the author of us. 

Was I born to say this? I’ll not ever know until before the judge of all love the lover of us.

It was asked of me once what does it mean if you see Buddha walking down the path towards you? It means you don’t ever kill anything or anyone because what you Kill slays u & u don’t have to slay me because I slay myself for u and 4 love B well B loved Beloved always loved exactly where and how and here you are. 

There is no end to of love it holds us the courses like the stars above us singing in chorus winking and blinking the tears away all the time until time ends never I could stop but won’t because in the end which is never you feel the love or don’t I buried her beside her father dead at four she never knew who says essentially I did did not shoot myself on purpose . . . but that’s my story not yours Yours must be sung to you as mine is to me making it apparent apprehended and convicted that U2 are loved, beloved, lovely and adored 2 well hell doesn’t exist and the devil is in you as well as love and in choosing you see the reason U must die to yourself and be reborn again coming back loving differently U see for M it would be insane for me to preach love to you since I cry every time I read reading aloud 1 Corinthians 13 and sometimes even get hysterical and roll in the mud beside my dead son never to be seen again and the deal is pastoral and liturgical the first has no script and the latter has one that goes on and around 24/7/365 a tsunami of love drowning everything before it. 

read the words tattooed upon and within your heart what you otherwise being young and about to take over the controls of life wear not upon your sleeve but the flesh of your arms 

120929 04:08 celebrate
©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

120928‭ ‬02:06‭ ‬train wreck

Time is a fetish; I once sold it by the hour to clients around the world; but principally through The New York Times and one or two Editorial Agencies . . . never in that era finding the courage to go out and sell myself to other clients I was well qualified for.

Retirement for my peers seems odd to me since I’ve not yet realized that I am in fact‭ '‬retired.‭' ‬Many of my associates remain idle reliving the‭ "‬glory days.‭" ‬I am still in the trenches pushing the envelope of creation forward and outward.‭ ‬Chuckling now I remember dad calling them‭ "‬war stories.‭" ‬I have yet begun to die in the traces; always noticing odd incidents and coincidences; what CG.‭ ‬Jung called‭ '‬synchronicity.‭'

I am,‭ ‬to myself,‭ ‬a train wreck of ideas‭ ‬.‭ ‬.‭ ‬.‭ ‬have you ever seen one‭? ‬Enormous‭  ‬mass hurtling in one direction.‭ ‬Engine going off track or burying itself into something stationary.

By vocation I was a professional photojournalist. Teaching the topic at The University of Rhode Island. Writing a photography column for The Providence Journal. Where I was employed as a staff photographer.  During this time I went to Missouri for a photojournalism workshop taught principally National Geographic Editors. And there I met Howard Chapnick of Black Star Publishing who later on gave me an assignment to cover the “Dump Nixon Rally” in front of the Rhode Island State House. I declined fearing it would imperil; with my son’s diagnosis of Leukemia  an employment assured Medical Insurance Policy. I recommended a coworker who did the work but my photograph made Life Magazine, double page, with an Associated Press credit line. My son Randy died six years later and my career as a photojournalist had for all intents and purposes died with that missed opportunity. This is not a resume, but another page in my journal keeping. I am surprised to recall that particular loss right up front. Until recently I could remember only becoming blind to my ambitions then. Of which Howard, over lunch at his invitation said; “Jack you are one the the twenty best photojournalist in the world.” . . . I was stunned and having no self-esteem presumed he wanted me to crawl beneath the table and fellate him; as it was I managed to leave the restaurant with a white linen table cloth firmly stuck in my belt.

Between then and now everything has changed. It is difficult to explain in detail and irrelevant; my focus it other and outward directed; away from myself to you and your Self.

I had begun keeping a journal shortly after my son’s death, his death following that of his sister’s; born with Spina Bifida. Traumatised in childhood as most of us are, in one way or another; my life became unendurable: depressed and suicidal. In 1993 I threw away all that I had created; images, tearsheets and my writings; everything.

This business of keeping a journal is not exclusively for posterity. I find the act of writing therapeutic; lending both peace and joy with the added benefit of clarity recorded for later review. Even if only to edit and rewrite before publication a deliberate effort to save others who like myself lived with daily suicidal ideation.

I argue synchronicity both ways, for and against myself, attempting to deny what eventually became obviously undeniable. Events and words strung together that were too fabulous to explain otherwise. Looking at now, the before and endless afterward I am simply humiliated that I could not own it or fulfill the gifts bestowed; instead I fled. Even now I am compelled to transpose or translate what I sense is appropriate and meet or match the language of those I encounter . . . those who call me long distance to say goodbye dying after hanging up. Bereft of excuse or shrugged shoulders I need to be explicit with both, myself and the audience of one.

Remembering is part of keeping a journal; placing events and choices within a context. Though I’ve kept it for years and well remember surprises discovered being now rediscovered newly minted bright shiny and new coins from common materials. Choices seen seminal, roads taken others abandoned. My ego surrendered to a newly discovered truth. An old man with the ground rising to meet my journey; distant mountain tops ahead beckoning my stride increasing. No longer laboring. 

The teacher taught that I have light years to travel yet vigorously. To myself I seem younger returning to innocence all previous lessons learned well. A night train running full bore joyously; whistle echoing behind me.

© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

"We are the people of times infinity flowing"

Reclining my eyes through the dark/sense a dream catcher/my head toward the north/upon my wrist is a band of brass from Tibet/around my right ring finger/a ring of silver upon which/a Mimbrenos peoples of my locality/1000 years-ago symbolic a lizard reposes/and upon my left Anamika ("nameless")/ a turquoise ring glows/what you might call 'wedded finger'

Perhaps, if time allows, meaning I don't die too soon -- one never knows; given the chaos of over crowding everywhere . . . I'll complete the poem started at the annotated time: it is now 120927 20:07.

M has taught me many things: intentionally and unintentionally, since with each time together I grow; both in love with her and larger in ability to understand and interpret her silences intuitively. She has walked with me through many changes, what I can call conversion/born again but refuse to accept the lexicon of either Occidental or oriental divination. Since it is thousands of years ago that it was spoken of.
Experientially the feeling is being extruded, or reduced -- losing prior conceits, hypocrisies, bigotry etc. Watch the no-speak of politicians and you will know what I shun and why. . . . seeking tolerance versus intolerance.

We are a people of the New Consciousness, all called, few answer and of those few most seek profit; not prophecy. Prophets seldom die in their sleep; they always speak truth to powers that dominate their time.

The image illustrating this post is her name in Native American Symbol. If you can read it you can/may know who she is. Otherwise, should I predecease her, you will never know; at least not from me.

We both are of Native American descent; hers considerably more recent than mine. Ancient: his name was Florence, buried beside a significant oak tree at the time, with his horse; in the state of Kentucky, USA. His grave is otherwise unmarked and I haven't a clue where it might be within a state that I've traveled: side to side top to bottom. 

I have immutable faith in the succeeding generations judging by their reverting to tribalism; what I initially misjudged as 'acting out' is in fact identification of their time of power when we are gone. They are possessed with anger worthy of the time ahead. 

Unlike the learning of those who protest our (America's Preeminence in the world) they lack our education. Theirs being, on the poorest levels of society, limited to what their religious leaders want them to know and act upon. We the learned of the world, while cynical at worst, skeptical a best know a better blend of church & state.

I am able to read signs. And so please forgive my rationalizations as being dictated by God. Who is not the God of your understanding; but The Great Spirit who knows what a Shapeshifter is/for/about. 

Yet, at that, I am equally able to intuit or trace the paths of others, either oriental or occidental towards what they sought . . . it is the Teacher who will answer your fears with peace, not me, or "God" or the 'devil.' Once you have crossed the boundary between illusion too experience, you will kill no one and definitely not your self. 

No costly licit or illicit drugs, no byproducts save for love; and no hangover. Better, or more better, yet no jail time just move forward towards eternal life.

I have light years to travel before my next rest period. House keeping chores mostly and a wedding rehearsal and dinner to attend tomorrow. 

http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/Medici%2c+Cosimo+de'

120927 14:43 amulet talisman fetish

© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved