Notes From Juarez

I’m typing In Real Time on April 17, 2017 at 1:34pm Central Standard Time. Today’s process is to take this large white box of office-related items I hadn’t unpacked since the Treehouse and unload everything where it needs to be.

Book 1 and Book 3

I found one of my many composition notebooks, a work I started back in Texas and have yet to reconcile now in Florida. Well, since this composition notebook a novel was written, manuscript created, contents edited and a book was born. It’s intriguing to go back into the manifest stage of this work, I Blew Up Juarez, available currently in digital form but soon to be available in print and audio. I especially love the notes I made to myself about myself in the persuance of artistry. I’m going to type what I wrote in green here, so that this thought process is captured in the 0s and 1s space. I love this notebook for all it represents:
158.1 DYER -> I visited the library in Killeen, Texas and found a book by Wayne Dyer of Hays House Publishing. I don’t think I need to big him up here, he’s doing fine without my accolades, but this work of his spurred the act of actualization on.

The Art of Being Peculiar -> when I Google this, I get a YouTube link. I believe back in 2010/2011 when this composition book was being filled, I was reading a chapter in one of his books. So I feel either this is a title of a chapter, or a title of a blog post. Either way, from here I culled Deep Thoughts.

“I’m here on purpose, I can accomplish anything I desire, and I do it by being in harmony with the all-pervading creative force in the universe” Dr. Dyer

“…the spirit reveals itself to everyone with the same intensity and consistency but only warriors are consistently attuned to such revelations.” Don Juan Matus

Before, I would question the visions and dreams that emerged without pre-planning or bad diet. I stopped making excuses for them and let them be. Exist. There is a story within these images worth learning about. A story about myself that I did not allow be told.

Now I allow them to manifest. The story develops, but the theme is obvious: this is your real self. Free from ego. Free from guilt. Free from the expectation of the world. This is you. This your story. Fall to it.

Detour a bit from the world of tangible, empirical rationale for existence and instead embrace the knowing of one’s Spirit, unbridled, yet bound to the vessel it embodies.

Find comfort in the metaphysical. After all, having reasoned life for the better part of 34 years only proves that academic intelligence is obtainable. There’s nothing to prove anymore. Other than having a chance at existence amongst others is a joy.

‘Choosing to be kind is a choice to have the power of intention active in your life.’

(Dudley’s Dilemma): Awareness is enough. Awareness is satisfying. [Those who] prefer reason and explanation… are consistently unsatisfied with existence.

Source = Universal Truth

I was without friends for a while. In my mirror, I looked empty. Disconnected. I truly find Spirit in engaging with others, obsessing on their life journey, intrigued by their stories and motivated to convert my findings into art.

It is the spiritual connection to other humans that helps me relish life.

If you doubt your ability to create the life you intend, then you’re refusing the power of intention.

Imagination. Fantasy. Daydreams. These aren’t tools for escape; these are tools for expression. And the more often you are caught in this dreamlike state, the more the truth is being revealed to you as to what fits your Spirit best. Surrender to your imagination and find yourself closer to the Ultimate Consciousness.

‘through imagination, God imagines everything into reality’

My intention with ‘I Blew Up Juarez’ is to (re)introduce Spirit to the Digital generation and show how Spirit actively coincides with humanity.

Japa = repetition of the sound of the names of God while simultaneously focusing on what you intend to manifest <Athena & Artemis>

I know myself to be protector of water, sky, and earth.


The ego is the antithesis to intention. One who is driven by ego not only does not recognize intention, but misinterprets its purpose. Although the egoist is convinced of all others’ weakness in comparison to him, he is most weakest for not acknowledging the infinite power of Spirit.

Know what you’re capable of, and live in the bliss of your intention.

When Johnny sets that fire, what was she really intending to do? What was she focused on internally? What you intend to create is based upon what your inner voice focuses on. Was it power? Destruction?

I intend to manifest a life prosperous in art, in friendship and in oneness with this planet. My job is to be; my intentions are to exist blissfully.

I have always been an artist. I have always been creative. What better a road to traverse upon than the one my Spirit skips along?

‘Self-importance is man’s greatest enemy. What weakens him is feeling offended by the deeds and misdeeds of his fellow man. Self-importance requires that one spends most of one’s life offended by something or someone.’


In this notebook is evidence that She is ME.

-IMES

 

 

 

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The Living Goddess Exhibit

It’s here! The magic of goddess energy comes to life November 11th in the lovely city of Gulfport. Come see Persephone, Pomba Gira, Brigid, Hecate, Kali, Ix Chel, and Inanna amuse the crowd with their vivacity! $6 at the door. Exhibit begins at 8pm.

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Feeling Poetish

These last two months had me scouring for sample poems to provide for review. I haven’t published any poetry outside of horror, so it’d be interesting what comes of this master poet’s opinion. If he finds me talented, I should go ahead and toss up some poems, I mean, this is my thang, this is my wheelhouse!

But I must stress that my poetry, as intimate as it is, is not for profiteering purposes. That’s what sci-fi series are for. My poetry, I hope, is respected in the same way the woman who composed it is respected for her bravery. Not everyone can emote, not everyone can poet, and certainly, not many are fain to evoke authentic feelings.

For those who do, I hope you look forward to future installments. I speak in a talk-story narrative that fits better in poetry than prose. Won’t you relish these stories with me? Here’s one I developed years back, shuddering in complete fear of the monsters in my head:

Death of Calypso

FOMO on NaNo

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Feeling a little split on participation this year..

The distinct smell of National Novel Writing Month is in the air, wafting curls of pumpkin spice-flavored coffee, donuts, and fear dancing in the four winds. All of November, local coffee shops morph into coliseums, where literary warriors compete against the clock and indirectly with each other.  It is a feat of near mythical challenge: find a way, everyday, to pour out the novel of your dreams from head to hard drive. Only the best of the best compete, but very few complete the challenge. Myself, a three-time winner of this global event, I gotta tell ya…

…I think I’m sitting this one out.

Normally I excel in short deadline situations, but after this last hospital stay, I’ve finally learned to not take life too seriously. And I think the essence of it is, the right mix of passion and mystery is just not in me right now.

But I will miss the gatherings (“I hate people, but I love gatherings!”)♤. I’ll miss the interactivity on social media during NaNo; I’ve made several friends all over the globe these past times.

Perhaps I’ll visit the write-ins, be a cheerleader or something. Yeah! My contribution this year will be words of encouragement. I shall motivate by slamming my hand loudly on the table top you rested your head on, then scream, Kinison-style, “GET BACK TO WORK!!!” into your earlobe.

Yes. I will be a NaNo cheero. No, I will not novel. And that is okay.

♤: Name that movie!

Just In Time For Halloween

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NEW Anthology available thru Thirteen o'clock Press

Inside this anthology you’ll find yours truly in both prose and poem form!

The story I submitted is from the perspective of a social predator locked in a holding facility, terrifying residents and staff alike. Oh and the evil person happens to be female 😉

There’s three poems dedicated to women in the throes of mania, circumstances varying but each known too well in modern society. I consider A Coterie of Diamonds a forewarning to readers…if you push a woman too far, prepare for major consequences!

Thanks be to Thirteen o’clock Press for publishing my art, my 2nd antho feature with this press. Support your favorite indie artist and many others by purchasing through Lulu.com 😀

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Von And The Fixer-Uppers

I did tell a long distance friend once that if my blog goes more than 3 weeks without a post, it’s a sure sign I’m dead. 😀

Haven’t been able to keep my regular writing schedule due to my laptop failing. I have enough motherboard life to collect my master files.  Pics I don’t worry about; aren’t they already in WordPress? So to keep up with my proof of life promise, I’m using the tablet today; apologies in advance on formatting. The laptop issue I saw a’comin’, but what comes next, completely thrown off!

Labor Day Cimmi Red took a Hulk Smash! to the roof and the windshield by a large tree branch. My insurance company gave me a Toyota Corolla to drive for five days. As I cruised about, I left the radio low so I could listen to the whoosh! of the wind sliding over its aerodynamic curves. Pretty and fuel-economical as it was, the Corolla’s pick-up was laughable! Meeeeeeeeeee…

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Have truck, will travel!

Cimmi and her growl is back, new roofed and windshielded, and I’m pleased with the repair, although the deductible could have paid for a new laptop. And then I could migrate my work files. Then I could install Scrivener. Then I could update my website. And then and then and then…

I can’t dwell on what I have no control over. So I’m reading Lisa L. Kirchner’s novel, blazing trails with long walks, and planning my next life-adjusting chapter..

Co-habitation.

We’ll save that for another blog… 😉

Indie Artist? Time To Shine!

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Full text from Facebook

Mountain Livin’

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New River, North Carolina