Operating on the 49th vibration.

I made a worry book and I'm getting excited about being creative with all my worries and fears.

Today's calendar art makes me happy and laugh a little.

Books in my stack:
Energy Medicine by Donna Eden (not Barbara Eden)
Rays of the Dawn by Thurman Fleet
Hope and Help for your nerves by Dr. Claire Weekes
There is a River; the story of Edgar Cayce by Thomas Sugrue

I've read the latter two already, Hope and Health twice.  The Fleet and Eden books are the type that I pick up here and again and look through.  I flipped to "Patience" in Rays this week and the next day I clicked on an Animal Medicine link in this Doowans website I found, you click on a peace-pipe smoking wolf, it randomly landed on Ants, which is medicine of patience.  I'm just going to go with the flow and accept that the universe is telling me to be patient.

What I learned this morning:
1. Telsa thought that crystals were living beings.  I'm totally down with that.  It goes with my thoughts that everything is alive.  I've been dabbling in crystal medicine.  Quartz and Iron so far.  I have a hematite heart.  Oh yeah, I remembered that specular hematite is an old love, I used to call it spectacular.  My old geology lab partner and I memorized some of our minerals using Guns n' Roses;  Apatite and my, my, my Serpentine!

2. There is something in our body called an omentum.  It's like a fatty mesh covering our stomach and liver.  I was more interested in the stomach mesh, called the greater omentum.  I read about it here in wikipedia.


Why am I turned off from law of attraction claims?  I always equate it with success in money and that repels me.  It doesn't seem very responsible.  Ah.  This reminds me of my sworn hatred of money because of my mom and dad's fights over money when I was a kid.  Ok, I got the answer.  haha!  Man, will I ever grow up?  love ya kid.

Bee-Jo

Yeah, I'm struggling to get anything posted. I have been drawing and writing occasionally. I have a little something I would like to get out before summer's end because I think it's a summer story since it has to do with a pool. Have I been reading any of your blogs, sadly, no. Have I been on the computer for entertainment--nope! This is something I drew after my lovely Grams died. She had dementia for several years and was hardly the grandma that I grew up knowing. She was related to Jeff East, who was the teenage Clark Kent in the first Superman

movie. I chose to represent the prison mirror as another dimension, but a prison mirror is a pretty good explanation for what she was going through too, I guess. I also added a few real life items that reminded me of her. Love ya Grams!

Birthday Tea Party

Celebrate old people

That see other dimensions
Especially if they have the ability to slip into

This consensual dimension
You may find Mother Burgers

made for some hidden army
Hiding perhaps in that cool attic

That frequents my dreams
Everytime it's always a surprise

I'm always intrigued

To slip up and explore
It scares me sometimes
There's something there
Something that inspires fear
My attic is my brain
And vice versa
Mamby pamby story telling is for Assfaces
So stop

O.K.
Tourrettes is good for the dementional soul
Keep in mind it's their right

Let them flow, let them go
Let them see cats
Maybe ol' Spooky they ran over on accident with their car
For years they sat at the kitchen table with nothing to do
Never speaking a word to a grandchild playing with pencils like they're people
Gendering lead writing utensils
By the paint the pencil company chose.
Play for hours among the bookcases
That housed an enormous collection

Of National Geographics and Reader's Digest compilation books
Maybe a few Jesus hands in the mix of the decore

Pushed together like I Dream of Jeannie
Hours.
Each shelf a floor of a pencil apartment
Class roles
The best pencils get the posh shelf
How did I decide?
What was pleasing to me of that penthouse shelf?
Was it that smooth, cloudy, milky dove figurine made of unknown firm, heavy material?
Only a grand pencil family would have that as a statue
Years.
Maybe a newer, cooler pencil
Only stopping for the only words that were known anymore by grandma
Informing statements of regularities
Lunch.
Then later as I got older and taller and she older and smaller
The way she looked up at me
I began to baby her and hide from her
The reality of me