BLACK TARS OF MY MORTAL WOUND

BOTROID   The Spirit of Mt. Adams

I woke up this morning thinking of 1968, when I hitch-hiked on acid from Seattle to LA, to see the Surrealist exhibition at the LA County Museum of Art.  This museum is located at the site of the La Brea Tar Pits.  It was all I could do to keep from climbing the fence and diving in to the black gooey ponds.  A sabre-tooth tiger called to me.  This was before I knew about Power Animals.

During my Initiation as a Shaman, I was taken by Queen Nefertiti, (Queen of the Witches) to view the World Axis.  It was as black and gooey as the tar pits.  Not good, I thought, naively.  I was soon to become One with that blackness.  It is the core of my being, my Shaman's Mortal Wound (the 'wounded healer' --more than a metaphor!).  

On Hallowe'en, Nefertiti appeared in my dream, in her black cape, with her black witch's hat obscuring her face.  Haven't seen her for months!

I've failed at everything.  I've been exiled to Yakistan.  I'm watching the soul of the people suck at the pits of ignorance.  I can't believe that Mitt Romney is even close to becoming President.  The stupidity of the people has me  very depressed.  My own Allies have betrayed me.

There is a heat in the black gooey tars at the core of my being.  It is the same heat, the same darkness, I witnessed when I was sent into Hades to retrieve the spirits who caused the attack on Gabby Giffords.

I can use this heat.  This morning I was so sad.  I sat with my tom-tom, and tapped out a dirge.  Eventually, I went to the bottom, where the tars warmed me.  I leaned forward and entered the black circle of the bindu painted on my yoga mat. The blackness took me, and I was in the light.

I got up, opened my black Liquitex, and painted a bindu in the center of the red orb of Marilyn Monroe's painting.  I painted a black line around the red.  

I went outside to retrieve the Botroid from atop its pole, just as the blonde witch was arriving up the alley to the barking of the dogs.  

The center of the world is very present in the core of Mt. Adams.  Ever since the departure of Mt. St. Helens, things have gotten worse here in Yakima, as well as in the world.

As a Shaman, my art is the transformational miracle of Surrealism.  I have been gifted with the ability to turn the black tarry world axis into energy I can use.

It is the time of the Black Crescent.  We are entering the Dark of the Moon.  This is a very fruitful time.  The light which we seek is at the core of the darkness.  Let it burn in your soul until it shines in the world.