Journal and Forum

Wednesday
6.1.2011
Mishlen and I in the car to Sarasota and Gwenivere. Mar Assi – The Sea of Asia in sight. Columbus and the enslaved Africans believed they were in Asia.
Green wrist band from Gwenivere. “I am open to receive.” We three wear the wristband as a sacrament of unity.

Thursday
6.2.2011
Malkuth – preparation. There is stress involved. Balance is the key (Liber L). Do what can be done; be in the completeness of the timeless moment.
Babalon Ritual – Maegdlyn. “Cut up” of Book of Babalon and pick phrase /words as an oracle for the festival. Possible ritual structure: ritualists draw a sigil on right and left hands. The sigils are for best quality and worst quality of the present manifesting self. They can be drawn on either hand. Babalon, always in motion, whirls and through inspiration places a snake egg (consecrated white beads) in one of the ritualists hands. The sigil on that hand I activated and moves the ritualist toward full awakening. It is the quality (best or worst) needed to move forward.
Blessing from Priestess Miriam – bright waters and open arms.

Friday
6.3.2011
Plane and the kingdom of the air elementals. A fragile shell among fragile clouds. Quiet peace. The word of the pilgrimage is “receive” – cabal- lamed/beth/ koph . From bracelet Gwenivere gave to Mishlen and I.. My drum is at my feet. A portable altar ready to receive and to give.
A very Irish woman standing near me. A smile on her face and her hair aflame. Babalon and Bridigette both have red hair.

Kennedy Airport…music session with a fiddle player in the BurgerKing. A reminder of how much I want to regain my bodhran technique I lost after Hurrycane Katrina. I began playing the bodhran in Ireland and was introduced to Utu there.

Saturday
6.4.2011
Shannon
Watering Dry Bones…Offering of water to all of our ancestors standing on Irish earth.

Crows as birds of Manman Bridigitte. Charlotte saw crows as judges (communication with Mishlen). Crow feather on path. His could relate to the Gevorah (Strict Judgement) of the Babalon Festival.

Swampy marsh. Offering of stones warmed by my hands to Manman Bridigitte for her altar. Bridigitte as “bridge” between the spirits of Ireland and the loa and spirits of New Orleans Voodoo.

Sunday
6.5.2011

Shannon: Dream – left with the words, “You must know what is essential.” Everything else is just details. The word “details” was emphasized.

To Doolin: Long ride and had to pee. Found a secluded spot by a wall and then realized I was in some kind of enclosed space. Mishlen asked if it was a Bridigett’ Well. I will return to check. Urination can be used to create connection.

Dream – Teacher said, “You can’t play the conga without playing the “bdhue??” rhythm. He was a bit taciturn so I was quiet for a while and then said, “Yea, I know what you mean. Like you can’t play the bodhran without using the tipper.”

I am strongly reminded that my spirituality rests on me being a musician. This is something I have, for a time, forgot.

Music Session at a pub. He how of playing the bodhran is coming back to me or more precisely to my hands. I’m at about 50% of my post Katrina skill. It I returning quickly. Concentrated on using the tipper with the bodhran. The band playing had done a benefit for New Orleans Musicians after Katrina.

These dreams are important. I prefer the term “dream” to that of “vision.” It emphasizes, for me, that we have waking and sleeping dreams. It is all a dream. The last time I was in Dublin, I dreamt it was the Middle Age and I met a man and we had a long conversation about dragons and eating dragon meat. Much later, the man turned out to be Utu and I heard the Dragon Drummers and we became friends. I am sure that our friendship is based on this dream.

Monday
6.6.2010

Dream - The Power to Move the Music…I was left with this phrase after a dream of a music session.

Honor and Respect o the Bridigetts of this land. It I only polite to honor her in her land and then bring praise to Manman Bridigette.
Bridgette I see you in the earth.
Bridgitte I see you in the water.
Bridgette I see you in the grass.
Bridgette I see you in the …(I did this throughout the day)…


Cliffs of Moore….From a ship in a wild Irish Sea. Marvelous photos of the Cliffs and of a man vomiting into the water behind me. The small ship was repeatedly attacked by dolphins.

Music session at O’Connors Pub. I walked toward the group and heard a rhythmic clinking sound. A man of great years (late 80s) was playing on a beer glass with a spoon. He held the spoon in the position of a tipper. The rhythm was simple and powerful. He then took up two glasses and played them by clicking them together. He varied the tone by clicking thick and thin parts of the glass. I offered him my drum and he said “No,No” and showed me how to play the glasses and spoon. I stayed close to him listening to the rhythms he used. Listening closely I could tell that decade upon endless decade of jigs and reels were pouring from his hand through the glass and spoon. His playing is the power that drives the music. The ages of the players ranged from 12 years to the late 80s. The melodies reminded me of old Cajun music. Same source. At one point my heart rose to my eyes and I could feel the warm tears. I left while the session was in progress, now they will be there always…playing.

Night walk to rooms…first presence of Manman Bridigette in the darkened lanes and low stone walls.

Tuesday
6.7.2010
To the hill of the Cliffs of Moore to play to Bridigette and Manman Bridigette. Near vertical climb with my bi-cycle. I sat on a low rock wall to play and realized that I was sitting on Bridigetts’s wall; Manman Bridigettes altar.

May I all ways be supported in my playing by Bridigete,
By Bridigettes Justice,
By Bridigette’s wisdom.
May my eyes always be on Bridigette as she shows herself as I play.

May I be seated on Manman Bridigette’s Altar as I play.
The Justice of the ancestors flowing though my hands.
The Wisdom of the ancestors flowing through my hands.
May I be proud and humble enough to get out of the way of The
Power to Move the Music.

SENT

************************************************************
Hello! Verbosity seems to accompany travel…an apt summation is that the spirit lives in the drum and the word. Rites and drumming and writing….I am full to over flowing…love….lui xx


6.7.2011 continued….
The drumming of a place echoes the sounds of that place; the weather, the flora and the fauna. Irish drumming would be the sounds of all of this. I will drum the sounds of the land to Bridigette.

Inspired to plant the tipper (drum stick) in the earth. The grass was so thick it was hard to find the earth underneath. Give it to the arms of the ancestors. Then I let the tipper go. I could feel and see the hands of the ancestors returning the tipper back to me.

Played to a fuzzy slug like caterpillar at my feet. Chanted to it sitting on Manman Bridigette’s altar with the field, the cliff, and the sea in front of me.
The sound of the cows, the sound of the land is all around me. The sounds of the wind…Brigitte’s breath. All of this speaks to the drum.
The wind is the breath of the land; Bridgette’s breath. Wild; sometimes gentle.


Quote: Yeats…. It is difficult to tell the dancer from the dance.


Wednesday
6.8.2010

Doolin:
Drum by ocean seated on Manman Bridgette’s Throne …sounds of the birds and water flow through the drum. Play in such a way that you hear the beginning, the middle, and the end. Playing to water, the soft sounds…the sliding on the drum. The softness of the water in the sound of the drum. Each beat on the drum has a beginning a middle and an end. To play in such a way that you hear the beginning, the middle, and the end of each beat on the drum.

Drum in graveyard…Whatever grave you clean….whatever grave you play too…it is your Mother’s grave (Mishlen)

Walls of Bridgette…Manman Bridigette as a judge. Adjudication. The baron’s land is divided, parceled out to use. There is a justice, a balance in these walls. They are low. Easy to talk or walk over.

Back Country Irish Roads at 1am. I walk in the middle of the road and in the darkness built from dim, tiny lights is a wild procession of the spirits. I want join them but as Owen writes, “They are always one step farther away, Always one more step away.” I am content to join them with my eyes.

Mishlen to the Clifts looking to speak with the dead she met last time in Ireland…the sea was throwing spray over the clifts as a height of 30 stories.

Thursday
6.9.2011
To Galway from Doolin
Work with Babalon Rising Fest Rite to Manman Brigette.
Ritual at Cathederal. (Quote from Fb and email)
National University of Ireland at Galway – Looking for evidence that the bodhran was brought to New Orleans and used on Congo Square. Did a key word computer search with an attendant at the library and came up with about 10 listings of books and audios; number 5 being the Velvet Underground. It seems that a cataloguer for the library has a sense of humor. None of the listings looked to be promising. Return may be difficult due to the weather and an amazing amount of construction that makes the library almost inaccessible.

Friday
6.10.2011
Galway
Long talks with Gwenivere. Tears and laughter over Irish whiskey.
Manman Bridigette in the small, dark places as I walk around the town.
People have asked about The Whisperings as a technique. Years ago I was told that the softly spoken word, the whispered word travels further than the fully spoken word. So long ago I don’t remember the source. I have used this in my conjures quite a bit.
Yesterday I realized I could use this with drum rhythms; in particular the Banda. I played the rhythm loudly then progressively softer. So soft I could hear it pulse only in my mind. Then so soft I could only sense its presence. Finally so soft it was no longer a sound, a pulse, or a sense of its presence. Then only an imprint, so subtle it could be sent instantly to any point.

Saturday
6.11.2011
Galway
Dreamt Maggie (Nema) and I were kissing. Ireland is good for my libido.
Saint Patrick ritual..There is a spirit in this statue. It stands before a large hospital in Galway. St. Patrick is adorned with spider webs, a bright coin lies at his feet, spiders crawl upon his robes. He stands in a bed of flowers in which snakes crawl. His crook I snake shaped.

Sunday
6.12.2011
Galway
Manman Bridigitte
Black storm clouds shape the land.
Crows call to the cratered moon in walled gardens.
Fleeting reflections from darkened windows. Looking.


Dream: Silkies and animal like elementals floating toward me over/through Mishlen’s left shoulder. A fine procession of monstrous shapes. I probably had my eyes open.

Monday
6.13.2011
Galway to Roundstone
Awoke with pain in left testicle. Possibly a bit too much fun playing with the silkies/elementals.

Roundstone…this I a recognized hub of bodhran making. Spent time watching the process at Malachy Kern’s workshop and shop. Gifty, a black woman working in the shop, said the bodhran is like a child held close. Beautiful image.

Found a golden ring in the water of the Lough and placed it on my finger. Again, playing with the silkies.

Tuesday
6.14.2011
Roundstone
“We are all in the gutter; only some of us are looking up at the stars” Mr. Wilde
“Every man and every woman is a star.” Mr. Crowley

Climbing mountain with Mishlen. She is taken by the thought that once you climb a mountain you can no longer see it as a mountain. The phrase keeps repeating itself to her. She does not know its meaning; just that it has importance.
She heard a bird singing the bamboula rhythm. The sounds of the flora and fauna surround us.
Manman Bridgette’s Altar…Lone pile of stones at base of mountain.

Malachy Kern’s Bodhran Workshop…I am beginning to realize that I have a great collection of books on the bodhran. The 7 or so that I have seem to be the core of the texts on the drum.

Saint Mary’s Cemetary…cleaned a bit and placed flower on grave. Every grave you clean is your Mother’s grave.
Later, a ladybug came and landed on Mishlen’s hand. The frst large insect either of us has seen. My Mother appears as a ladybug. Honor to Bridigette in all of your aspects.

Wednesday
6.15.2011
Roundstone to Clifden
Ah! When you climb a mountain you no longer see it (6.14.2011)
First there is a mountain then there is no mountain then there is a mountain. Fascinating.

Clifden Library….Looking at a book that I have on the bodhran. Reference to “Children of the Rainbow (1953)” as the first book with text concerning the bodhran to be published outside of Ireland.

Dream….There was a standing stone we wanted to erect. It was hard to communicate the process of setting it up to others. At the end there was some food and I smeared it on my face. To do this with the food was an almost overwhelming change from the normal eating. Then I shook standing in place. Mishlen said sounds like a purification like a Head Washing. The self in this dream had a very simple mentality.

Thursday
6,16,2011
Clifden
Bloom Day

Breakfast with Gwenivere. Judy Collins was on the radio talking about her son killing himself. Collins is the author of the book Gwenivere found at a yardsale about her son killing himself. An amazing co-incidence.
Mountain with Mishlen
Drum at Atlantic Inlet…between land and water. On Bridgette’s Wall / Manman Brigette’s Altar. The wind I a shrill wistle through the rigging of the sail boats. Strong wind…bright sky. “whoop” Playing to the rhythm of the birds wings as they move through the air.
Drum at Brook
Self….stop morning practice….what is left? Loving kindness and passionate curiosity as to what I am and a wide sense of self in which the sensorium is deeply valued and transcended. This seems to be an extension of the first dream in which the I was told to find and value only that which is essential. Perhaps the morning practice is not essential. The morning practice creates a certain mind stream. What creates that mindstream on this trip?

Friday
6.17.2011
Clifden
Asked hostess name of the small river in which I heard the silkie speak. Owensglen River. I have played in bands with Owen for decades. Owen I a bard and is my teacher in the mysteries of Bridigette and such. In his 80s and walks everywhere.

To the Sea…a formation of some of the oldest rocks in the world; same as the Canadian Shield.
Rock for Miriam. We did not take a rock from the Canadian Shield when we were in Canada for rituals. It didn’t feel right. This felt correct. Perhaps that Priestess Miriams first husband, Priest Oswan Chimani, was black and Irish. This is a gift from Priest Oswan and me.

Owensglen with Gwenivere…played to Bridigette. Played to the waters. Mishlen asked what the waters were saying. I asked the waters and realized that they were talking to my drum andf that I could answer them through the drum. It was a beautiful call and response.

To pub…met David Lyttle, a drummer who was researching the use of a drum (lambeg) used by the Orange Order. A large drum, maybe 3 feet by 2 feet. Both hands are used, Tuned really high and eas used to call people to the gatherings. It looks like two switches are used to play. The drum is hit with the curved part. It is not well known because of the political connection. Rhythms similar to second line rhythms. The rhythms started out really simple and became more complex in the competitions. He is going to be publishing a book of rhythms. The drum is a political instrument but he is studying it in a cultural context.


SENT to here
Saturday
6.18.2011
Clifton

Owensglen with Mishlen….rhythm…2 fast and 2 slow. Could be beat….2 fast beats….beat. The two fast have the waterwhomp. Sound.
Wild procession over the rocks. Forms a rise and shrink into the white water.
Mishlen found an iron dorgie. Where it went?
Made a tape of the waters that I can follow back to Owensglen when I am in New Orleans.

Sunday
6.19.20nbn11
Clifton to Inis Mohre
Recording rhythm of donkey cart. A lot like a reel.
More populous than ten years ago but still full of small dark lanes.

Monday
6.20.2011
Inis Mohre
Discovered the presence of a Celtic priest and monk on the island. I contacted him about a meeting tomorrow and he agreed. This is good situation for the summer solstice.

Tuesday
6.21.2011
Summer Solstice
Inis Mor Island
Morning Practice reestablishing itself.

Morning Coffee:
Flick coffee with fingers: To the awakened ones. To the spiritual teachings. To the spiritual community.

Flick coffee with fingers: To the kind mothers of the past, present, and future. For these I vow to awaken.

Secret Forest: Stream and Cave Rite
On small road around midnight. The snails are out on the rocks and on the road. To the secluded forest. Turned out light (this mirrors Owen turning out the flashlite in BabalonRising Fest when we were lost in the wood) and to my left was the sound of a spring. Tomy right a hole in the earth opened up. Luminescent figures, steps going down into the hole. Thought of taking the steps and received some sort of internal warning; a strong sense that it would be better not to take the steps. I did the “journey to the right” seven circles where I stood thnking Bridigette and Tara. Thanks to Bridigette and Green Tara. Light on and continued to walk. Came to an archway gate exiting the wood created by shrubbery. The archway led to the ruins of a small church. Went in and prayed to Bridigette in all of her forms. Realized that this had been leading to the beginning of a new morning practice. Perfect timing is often unplanned.

Walking back I ran the stick from my drum through the dew as a consecration to Bridigette’s Water. Dew also to drum. As a sacrament I took some of the dew on my tongue. I thanked Bridigette.

Morning practice…add Bridigette as a point of refuge and love/will as the two arcs of the marassa. Infinitely small and the infinitely large joined.



Wednesday
6.22.2011
Inis Mor Island
This is a day in between; between the summer solstice and Saint John’ Eve (Mishlen).
Went to see Dara M.; a monk and priest in the celtic tradition.
I was shocked to see an an african statue with the features of Priestess Miriam on the piano next to the book he wrote and I had brought with me. Dara said he had the statue and felt that a male counterpart was necessary. After purchasing the female statue he went to effort to get the male. He bought a male from the carver to compliment the female. I told him about our work with Dr. John Montanee bringing the male element more into New Orleans Voodoo through Dr. John to produce a balance. He has a strong spiritual presence; much like the tibetian monks. He said he was not of a celtic church. He is a monk in the celtic tradition. A living tradition in the hearts of people. There is quite a simariality here to New Orleans Voodoo. He said that I had a Celtic tonsure. He was very intuitive and was not adverse to silence in the conversation. I realized I was asking him the same questions people asked me when they came to New Orleans. He is an example of how I can benefit others. I spoke to him about what I did; laid the basis for communication. I talked to him about Manman Bridigette and her caring for unwanted children. He gave us direction to the graveyard where unbaptized children used to be buried.
After talking to Dara, Gwenivere and I went to the site below his thatched cottage. It is a site of liturgical ruins. Upon entering the site, for the first time in the journey, I knocked a stone off of one of the walls. In replacing the stone, I cut myself with a thorn and wiped the blood on the stone. Bridigetts walls / manman Bridigett’s altars.

We first went to a place that was shaped like a horseshoe. I coundn’t firure out what it was. Omething said to me to walk to the very end of the horseshoe. I did so and found a well. It was shielded with the grasses so you had to be standing almost in it in to be able to see it was there. The well was about 1 foot by 1 foot and it was about 2 feet down to the water. The well was next to a church which was above the children’s graveyard.

Did the traditional “walk to the right” 7 times around the well giving praise to Bridigette / Manman Bridigette/Green Tara/Mary...Bridigette in all of her aspects and guises. Ah! There was a natural stone basin containing smooth stones. You take 7 stones and drop them back in as you make the circumambulations to keep count. A pleasure and a surprise to find the basin and the stones. I put my tipper (drumstick) into the well on both sides. Touched it to the drum.

Then to a ruin of a stone chapel with a great stone altar. Pebbles had been placed carefully on this altar. Put pebble and water from Bridigette’s Well on the altar in thanks to all of the spirits for being so welcoming.

Down the hill a bit to the children’s cemetery. This was by the stone I toppled from the wall then cut my self. High grass covered most of the area. I sat and played my drum to amuse the children and to honor Bridigette and Manman. Sprinkled some of the Bridigette Water onto the ground. Prayers for all of Manman Bridigett’s Children.

Movie: Man of Aran…all of the soil on the island is created by the islanders carrying baskets of sea weed to the plots and mixing it with a layer of sand. Odd sense of the earth and the ancestors. A local man narrated the movie. There were maybe 4 people present. 2 or so were working on a doctorial. The man with the small audience spoke for hours with great passion.

Evening back to site of rite in woods. The hole I saw beside me was a deep sink hole. If I had stepped and joined the faries my body may never have been found. This adds a new edge to stories of those taken by the fairies.

Mishlen: The snails live on the dew, Bridigett’s Holy Water. The snails connect Bridigette to Oba Tala and to Blanc Dan i.





Thursday
6.23.2011
Saint John’s Eve
To the Wormb Hole. This is the serpent’s lair. The wormb hole is a dragon’s hole. This is when Damballa Wedo and Ayida Wedo are at their highest state. This day is one of great honor to the serpents. There is an odd tie in with Saint Patrick. A theme of this whole journey is the water, the undies, the slikie, The power of the water is an expression of Damballa and Ayida Wedo being in this exalted state.
Played to the ocean on the cliffs. Pounding of the water onto
the rocks. The spray rising up the steep cliffs to the land. This is the power of water. This same power is transmitted to the bourdon as a water drum.
To wormb hole with Mishlen and a lovely couple. Gwenivere climbed on the rocks as far as she was able. Then she was alone with her own experience. Overcome with sadness and loneliness. Sense of being lost…not knowing her way back. I am saddened by this and I know that we all experience what we need to experience.
Drummed at the wormb hole. This is a sacred place. Blessings to this place and to all of the great serpents in allof their manifestations.
To Damballa Wedo and Aida Wedo and all of the great zombies.
The water was blue around the sides with turquoise in the middle. The turquoise part in the middle would change shapes as the water rushed in and out of the hole. The movement of the water on the sides was hypnotic, drawing as it moved up and down on the sides of the hole. I held to my seat on the rock at the edge with my feet over the side of the hole.

St. John’s Eve Bon Fire
Leaving out rooms I could smell smoke in the air. Dramatic cloud formations overhead. Carrying a phallic stone. At the fire, I turned away to look across the water at fires on the mainland and got a definite tap on left elbow. Spirits saying to watch the fire. Adults and children throwing all manner of things into the fire. A platic swimming pool at one point went into the flames. There is very little wood on the island. Most of the time, I was the only non islander at the fire. I played my drum softly on my lap. I am at something very special; very private to the islanders. The sweet sound of children singing and the rush of the flames. Shapes in the flames. Bridigette I thank you. The whole journey has been about water, and earth, and air (winds). This is where the fire comes in. Damballa Wedo and Aida Wedo at their zenith. The Grande Zombies in complete ascension. The sparks from the fire rise into the night sky. Ah! The wormb hole earlier….this is quite a day for snakes. Walking back on the dark roads past a shrine to Mary in the rocky hillside. There is a lone light in the shrine. Offerings before the shrine. I knelt at the shrine. Mary is Bridigette; this I knew….now I experience it in its holey fullness. Mary and Bridgette as One.
I’m thinking about the bon fires on the levee and the Temple and Priestess Miriam.
Friday
6.24.2011
Innis to Shannon
Mishlen saw the swamp by the hotel as we were driving in. This is where I did the first ceremony of the trip. The first rite seems so long ago. The seams of time/space burst with experience.

Different room. Same hotel. When I entered the room I found a fuse on the floor I was missing. I take this as a welcome from the spirits.

Alchemy with the Bridigette waters and the waters of the spirits. Pure and mixed waters….each having their own virtue. I see now why the spirits asked me to harvest a variety of waters.

Saturday
6.25.2011
Shannon to Tampa to Sarasota
It is only in reading this MR that I will know the results of this journey.
I can say that I have seen enough rocks to last for quite a while.

Sunday
6.26.2011
Sarasota
Clear body, clear mind. In bed; light trance for mot of the afternoon.
Thoughts on the celtic tradition via Mara. Explore the connection between one god. One self. With one self the consciousness would be experienced as residing outside of the body as the one god resides outside of the world.

Monday
6.26.2011
Sarasota
The pilgrimage: Nodes of experience as they appear to me now;
- The importance of drumming to me. The seamless connection of music/magick…musician/magickian.
- All of the sacred sites where I played the drum. The grace from these sites is now a part of the drum and tipper.
- Rites at Owensglen, Stream and Cave, Saint John’s Eve.
- Water…the gold ring of union with the silkie. The Bodhran in its aspect as a water.
drum.
- Owensglen with the voices from the waters.
- Morning practice falling away and being reconstituted at Solstice/Saint John’s Eve.Same expression of essentials but more in English rather than Tibetan.
- Bridigette’s walls. Manman Bridigette’s altar. The walls separating the lands in correct adjudication.
- Bridigette’s water. Last time I could not bring it back. Now I have the grace to bring it back with me.
- Manman Bridigette’s earth from the graveyard for unbaptised children.
- Dew/snails. In and ancient sense, the dew is regarded as Bridigette Water. I saw the snails crawl on the roads to feed and mate where this moisture covered the surface. This is a connection between Bridigette and Obatala and Blanc Dan i.
- Human contacts: David Lyttle a drummer doing research on Irish drumming, Dara the celtic monk and the living celtic tradition; Gifty, Malachie Kerns wife.




Notes:
Dara said that the parish priest would not attend the celebrations.

Working with Liber Tzaddi
Bibliomancy

v. 25 "The weak, the timid, the imperfect, the cowardly, the poor,the fearful - these are mine enemies, and I am come to destroy them."

Comment: Ah! My least liked line shows its face in the first session. Probably connected Gevorah and the focus on this sephoroith during Babalon Rising. Of course, more to the point, this verse calls for understanding.
If the "I" in the text is an external savior, then we have a simple rehash of traditional religious sentiment. The content is congruent with the eugenics movement that, in the USA, specialized in the "treatment"of loose women and gypsies.
The "I" can be interpreted as an internal force though,to me, this assertion lacks a certain solidity of conviction. I will see.

The performance of Opera Creole was magnificent. This is the music Dr. John Montanee would have heard or heard about in the 1850s. I walked through the music to see his New Orleans. Accounts have him wearing a full black suit and a white frilly shirt. Impressive....with the red and blue facial tattoos.

This is an exercise in creating a bud self in a world in which the predicted rapture has taken place. Ir draws from the Tibetan idea that we are reborn and die in the moment. Like a dream, all those left would not know to question the lacuna in their lives. When I (emptiness) transfer my consciousness to this bud self, I feel a profound discomfort. Symptom of a descent into the bud self.

So many have left and I am so alone.
I remember all those who have gone. I remember their names. their faces. I remember their bright flight. I seem the be the only one able to remember. Such a mercy for all those left those left behind; such a curse for me. Why??

MR May 9. 1911
Black Moon Publishing…Nema’s book is so close. Last bit of the edit.

MR May 10, 1911
Copies of Doctor John Montanee signature for Rite at Gryphon’s Nest.

MR May 11, 1911
The rite centering on DR. John will be experimental. The purpose is to open a road to DJ so that he can tell us what he wants. Not to ask but to give.

MR May 12, 1911
Earth from St Roch cemetery for use in the rite at Gryph Nest. At first I mixed it with red brick dust from a bit of brick by the entrance to the cemetery. Went back and redid with out the red brick dust . The charge on the dust would introduce elements hard to control.

MR May 13, 1911
Gryphon’s Nest Fest….Selina Fox and Beth Pattetrson…quite a combination.

MR May 14, 1911
Session on New Orleans Voodoo and Dr. John Montanee. Cold fromt and drunk bellt dancers took much from the rite; short circuited.
Dock extending 80feet out into the swamp. At night; here the magic lives. Drumming with a few goers and friends.

MR May 15, 1911
Cliff (owner) and Selina Fox. Talking bout thought for a next round of events at Gryphon’s Nest.

MR May 16, 1911
Gwenivere prep for Ireland pilgrimage.

MR May 17, 1911
City Park Drum Session. Yenvelou toa clear sky and a deeplake.

MR May 18, 1911
The land is warming. I can feel the coils of the zombie contract and release. Friction and heat.

MR May 19, 1911
Movie “Rubber” sentient tires with bad dispositions.

MR May 20, 2011
School program shuts down for summer break. I begin to generate a different variety of selves. A profound relaxation.

To Mar Assi...Sea winds and rolling waves cleanse my soul. Sound and scent and touch move easily through me carrying away all that conspire to obscure their pleasure. There is no thing other than this. Quiet attention.

New Orleans Voodoo Spiritual Temple. French documentary asked Priestess Miriam about sex during the rites in the early days of Congo Square. She said the the slaves had very little privacy in their quarters. It makes sense that they would use the relative privacy and freedom afforded by the market and ritual space to come together in the surrounding bushes. Well put.