Invoking the Hieros Gamos

Invoking the Hieros Gamos
Dianne Bowen drawing the footprint at EROS(ION) FLOW: 01 FEB 2011 at the Gershwin Hotel

SHAMANIC ASTROLOGY IS THE WAVE OF THE FUTURE!

Shamanic Astrology utilizes geomagnetic intuition to derive operational direction based on visual cosmic situations equally honoring evolution and involution...


Monday, December 17, 2007

THE ALCHEMY OF LOVE: HIEROS GAMOS



The Alchemy of Love: Hieros Gamos

Action Reciproque: 5:30 PM, January 23, 2008

Lisa Paul Streitfeld conducts a multimedia action reciproque during a five-day writing performance/installation. Michael Manning (USA) and Tatyana Stepanova (Russia) execute an action painting to improvisational music by the violoncello artist, Lutz Rath (Germany).

The Alchemy of Love: Hieros Gamos concludes the blogel (www.thealchemyoflove.blogspot.com) inspired by four successive multimedia installation/performances, painstakingly scheduled to occur during specific astrological moments throughout the year. Under a full moon activating the gateway January 23, 1997 cosmological configuration of the Hieros Gamos, the series culminates with the quintessential element binding heaven and earth.

THE LAB (for installation + performance art) is a New York based, converted storefront turned fishbowl producing 30+ fast paced performance art and installation exhibitions annually. Aimed at furious midtown foot traffic, THE LAB’s programming is designed to confront modern relationships between art and audience and seeks to force interaction between high energy, “outropsective” exhibitions and nearly 25,000 daily passersby. It is THE LAB’s goal to reach out through the glass and capture, fascinate, amuse, bemuse, soothe, shake and satisfy any and all who pass within eye or ear shot of the corner of 470th and Lex. For more information, call 212-339-2092, or email rogersmitharts@rogersmith.com.

THE GALLERY IS LOCATED ON THE CORNER OF 47TH STREET AND LEXINGTON AVENUE
ALL EXHBITIONS ARE ON VIEW 24/7.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

AIR: EPILOGUE


HAIL SKY GODDESS!

They kept telling you
Surrender

1,2,3,4,5,
Sex
Here are the seeds
Now swallow them
And become hole

Swallow
And Submerge

SUR – REN – DER!

How is Woman
Unique in the history of women
Taken up the sword
In the name of
Balance


The Rubedo

The Liberty queen
Crafted in her own
Cosmic vision
Icon of
As above, so below

How is she to settle for half
A donut
Glazed with the white poison
Hyperglycemic fantasy

SUR-REN-DER!
1,2,3,4,5,
Six seeds

The days grow darker
East Village beckons
The snake door
Opens

Let me in!
She cries at the gate
Revolving to confront
The illusion
Of the past

A full circle achieved
The alchemy of love
Brings you back
To the beginning



Prologue
At Bar on A
Many celebrities here!
Declared the party thrower
Looking straight at you
The gatecrasher

Pen poised to rewrite this
Epilogue
As you live it

And here we are again
Sparks
Igniting
Your kundalini fire
Plunged underground

Dream pronouncement
Flight to Spain awaiting
The fifth hour
Mirrored pentacle
Reflecting
Generic label
Astaraisborn



You left her in the gallery
Venus pregnant
With her spirit children
Brandishing her rod
Alight with feathers

Persephone
Seeking her underworld partner
Here we arrive back
At the beginning

Sparks fly
Sparks burst into flames
The East Village is on fire
With desire

The mouth of the serpent
Is open

And so it goes
The flame of love
Burning the edge of
Manhattan
Flame shooting
To the glittering lights
Guiding

To what?
Freedom?
The ultimate surrender?
To the Mylar mirror kiss
Now on Screensaver



Fame & flame
So alike
Except for one letter
L for love
L for Lisa

Commotion
Dishes crashing
As you enter a restaurant
In your dream
Excitement
Your trademark

Flight
An image of departure
The search for a matching sock
Your Pisces Mate

A lover is like a sock
The right match
Makes a pair

Master of the Universe driving you
But you mustn’t enter together
The lone reporter
On this dream voyage

Your role
To observe
Star alignments
As they appear

Your Mercurial flashlight
Above on Olympus
and below in Hades
Into how stars are made

Which brings us back to
Surrender
1,2,3,4,5,
Six

Seeds of the pomegranate
Juicy & whole
You are!

SUR-REN-DER!
All your life
Men telling you to surrender

What does it mean?
You understand now

The white flag
Raised and lowered
Just as you uttered the words
White flag
On New Year’s Day
At the Poetry Club

White, like salt
Preparation
Purity
Chastity

You have gone somewhere
That no reporter has gone
Before
You have reported a life
As it is lived
The consciousness
Of your actions
Evolving your next step
In an upward spiral

And so now
You understand
You have surrendered
All along
To your fate
Of not surrendering to a man

One breakthrough
After another
Until the structure is completed
Under the bridge of freedom

Tim Fey taking a bow
Yes!
You have crossed the threshold!
One seed
At a time

1,2,3,4,5
Sex!

Yes,
Five + One equals sex
The Mystery Man
A lover who never abandons

You have taken him out of the closet
Where you found him
On Spring Street
And made him
A public figure
Who lives, breathes, creates
In your pentacle reflection

And yes,
He surrenders!

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

AIR: FLIGHT



Mystery Man arrived
Just in time
For the dance
Of Sublimatio

Winged Being
Carries me
To the clouds
And Beyond



Star of Tomorrow
Embracing the One
Cosmic abstraction
And flesh
Together at last
Conjunctio complete

BOLD FACED Lover
Extending wedding band
Diamond studded
Golden Chalice
Pouring forth
For thirsty men

Silver Moon glow
Copper Venus
Blue breath
Liberating Earth



Finger of God
Adorned
With three metals
Marking the Journey

Bejeweled
Body Marked
For Success

Icon & human
Heaven & earth
Past & future
Converging with present
Opposites in balance

Aquarian Goddess
Armored by personal projection
Pentagram over the throat
Reflecting the five points

Saturn & Pluto
Force & Evolution
Blasting
Star into orbit

Winged Venus
Molding personal signature
Into cosmic being
Neptune and Venus wed
Into Universal Love

Circle opens
Venus Emerges
Golden Rod & Feathered Crown
Morning Star ascends
The reign of Leo
Amazon Warrior

Arrives at the Doorway
With blue snake pumps
Marking the Door
Opening



The ever present origin
In the Golden Chalice
Finger of God
Past (Luna) & Future (Venus)
Converge at the Apex
Path Unknown



The Great Watcher
The Leopard
Guarding the passage
Bravery, swiftness, ferocity
Beckoning Dionysos
Creator & Destroyer



We embrace
Winged Venus in earthly form
And myself
Love shining in her mirror
Poised for flight



The five-fold passage
To Aquarian Age Icon
Formed by the manuscripts
Organizing her synodic cycle
Into five archetypes
Aries, Scorpio, Gemini, Capricon
& Leo, the Star
Liberated by flight



The Great Work is done
Alchemy of Love
Has just Begun!

Friday, September 28, 2007

AIR: GOLD



On the night of the FULL MOON you went to a celebration where the gold is stored. GOLD, the destination of THE GREAT WORK. There you meet Happy Rockefeller, a name that symbolizes the pursuit of gold in matter. She is friendly, with a Mercurial mischievous in her smile. “The hedge funds have ruined the culture,” she tells you. You went over to Charlie Rose and commended him for upholding what little culture still exists in America.

At your peak, you were writing on the culture for five newspapers. Now you cannot get an assignment. In fact, at a dinner last year in this very hotel the former arts editor of a Philadelphia daily advised you to find something else to do. The gatekeepers of Old Media are crashing down and what a surprise to realize you are one of them.

The LAB has offered you the opportunity to experiment; your identity has now shifted from critic to curator to performer. The transition begun with FLAME in June of 2006 is complete nine months later with the simultaneous publication of your name attached to a new identity in two newspapers the day you worked through the GEMINI pile in the SE section of the sacred circle.

Yesterday, as you walked the streets of Manhattan, a magazine cover caught your eye. It was a Revenge Surgery. Boobs inflated to get back at the boys who teased her.” This is truly shocking. The media’s obsession with female breasts may be juvenile but it also reflects the squelching of emotion in the culture. As a punishment for sexualizing a body part meant for nurturing, we get masses of fake boobs in return. Even worse, women have lost their shape because they are not at all in touch with what is to be woman. You probably wouldn’t either if it hadn’t been for the shaman who lured you on the path many moons ago in Los Angeles and took you to the Native American sweat lodge for the first time.

Entering the sweat lodge is like entering the womb. This was the image that spawned SUBLIMATIO. The many, many layers stars arising out of your expression had a very logical origin – the perfectly symmetrical synodic cycle of VENUS. To consciously follow the cycle as you have since you first read the writing of shamanic astrologer Daniel Giamario

The young urban woman’s millennial struggle with the authentic feminine energy may be defined by this cycle: ARIES, the warrior (Monday), followed by SCORPIO, the priestess (Tuesday), followed by GEMINI, the mercurial agent which brings the unexpected into the EXPERIMENT (Wednesday), followed by CAPRICORN yesterday which had you placing excerpts from WOLF IN THE BOTTLE, LABYRINTH and ICON into the window. This was an extremely important cycle because it served to firmly ground the alchemical expression in EARTH. This cycle forced you to accept your role as channel because it combined the energies of your Aquarius birth sign ruling your expression and your Capricorn mind dedicated to order.

And today, having honored and reflected overnight on the CAPRICORN cycle, your writing moves you to make an assertion just an hour before you need to define your work for the camera. A woman who follows this cycle may give birth to her personal expression of the universal archetype of the post-patriarchal VENUS.

The body of work mirrors the work that was done on the body in releasing toxins and opening to the spirit. The objective was to connect with and contain this female spirit. Many times in your journey you doubted that you would make the passage. Your feet were so off the ground in the eighties (ASTARA IS BORN) that you sought out a healer who channeled energy into your feet. She told you that if you hadn’t written your first novel, CHAMPAGNE TANGO, you would have gone mad. And indeed, that is what the book was about – a woman running away from her fear of insanity.

What have you learned from this LAB installation/performance? You have learned how incredibly radical your vision has become through this journey. You are proposing that the new expression of culture comes out of a woman’s body. It was Heyo, the shaman, who pointed out that nearly all expression comes through the head. Male or female, the head is not the organic origin of art. Whether in the art world or literary world, emotion is repressed. Emotions guide images. Without deep emotion, the expression is flat. There is no meaning. This is a truth reflected on the wall. The manuscripts come out of PSYCHE, the form being the satin bridal gown worn in WATER (SOLUTIO). The gown is the womb spilling out the naked expression of the female.

So, when the Daily News reported yesterday that you were naked in the gallery, it was accurate, but not in the literal sense that they delivered it. Your soul was naked. You are presenting your visual language to the public for the first time. Images are parts of you, originated in your very emotions. And the timing you choose made the leap from private to public happens to be so dramatic because of your uncle’s connection with the GOLD and an unexpected invitation to hold the GOLD that you have sought for so long as an internal process.

So, the immediate reward of SUBLIMATIO is your newfound ability to sum up your journey to the size of a fortune in a cookie. The alchemical passage to the personal roots is elevated to the collective. You are in a place where you can make conscious choices. You choose now to follow your ancestry of establishing value in a culture that has no standard for value beyond those gold bricks stored below the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.

You had taken the huge leap of attempting to pass through the SUBLIMATIO without isolating yourself, without fasting and maintaining your customary focus. You fasted for four days before the opening ceremony. Then there were meals to attend. So fasting during the day and eating grand meals in the evening plunged you into the opposites.

The alchemists risked everything in their search for gold. If they were authentic seekers, they discovered the gold to be an inner quality, the kundalini energy connecting the genitals with the heart through the Solar Plexus, the place of personal power. In your nightly rituals, you mixed the pigment – gold (the sun), silver (moon) and copper. You made a mark with your right forefinger on the pages of your writings hung in the windows. This process of hanging for the passerby and, in doing so, blocking you from their view, is a transformational act of rebirth.

Tonight you will call in the spirit of LEO, the superstar energy ruling the synodic cycle of VENUS begun two days before the eclipse when you picked up the magical stones on the beach of Cape May where your uncle was born. Your uncle, with all his clarity of vision and integrity, was born in an energy elevated by quartz crystals honored as sacred stones by the Native Americans who lived among them. And now these stones are the gift of EARTH, a reminder that the tools for healing can be found in everyday life.

So your sunset ritual during the last few days consisted of reviving old work and making it entirely new with a birthmark. In the gallery arriving at the SUBLIMATIO, soaring above the karma that has kept you mired in past life patterns. You getting ready to appear in public and an invitation comes to hold the gold stored under the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. Being immersed in gold, the real stuff, was not the intention at all, but certainly makes a nice conclusion to the story!

The African shaman sent a message. He said you were marked for success. He knew about the hole at the base of the spine where the kundalini passes through. This mark makes your body a vehicle for the human passion repressed by our celebrity-obsessed media dominated culture. It is the same passion with which the fundamentalists refute the body in their religious tradition. John is making a film entitled THE PASSION.

The work on view in the gallery is 23 years of conscious expression to obtain the knowledge that your father pioneered as a psychotherapist.

Matt poked his head into the space yesterday and asked what you doing when you journey through the sacred circle. You answer by instinct: ”shamanism.” To explain: you call up the elementals of alchemy and mold the energy into form. The result is the magical occurrences that have taken place this week.

Selections from your own slush pile were burnt at your altar prior to the start of SUBLIMATIO. The covers, with different spellings of your name signifying your search for a unique identity apart from your family were burnt during last Sunday’s Fall Equinox ceremony.

Not real gold for the spiritual seeker but the gold before celebrating your Experiment arriving at the GOLD, you on top of the GOLD and the invitation from the nice gentlemen to hold it. Amazing! Could holding the gold reserves of the nation be a reflection of the gold that you compiled in an old form – the slightly dilapidated manuscript box? The struggle to ground the Self was represented by gold and the golden scepter of the King was the instrument in which the divine energy was brought down from heaven to provide the wisdom to rule. This is how you treated your writing instrument, as the instrument to channel divine into human expression. Even as you write this, the copper pigment on your fingertips is making a permanent impression of VENUS on the keyboard.

The journey into the Self is fraught with danger but you made it through. The biggest challenge came this week when Pluto, Lord of the Underworld, was smacked by Saturn, Lord of Karma, in your horoscope. Astrologers always look to what is Saturn is doing in a chart for timing and in this case, the timing was unmistakable. Just last week, an indication of what was to come through your new trainer at the gym. He was a big, muscular guy and when you failed to do lunges, instructed you on practicing balance. Defeated by a simple lunge, you had to face the truth: the body was resisting the plunge into the unknown. Your mind knew you had to make the leap but the body was resisting Saturn, the old timekeeper. How many times had you witnessed people walking away from their own meeting with fate, giving them the opportunity to make fate into destiny. How much ink had you devoted to it?

So, you came to the LAB understanding the challenge and the forces of evolution vs. resistance. You were forced to embrace the opposites not simply in ritual but in life. From the heights of the executive offices of the Federal Reserve, you were flung to a hotel on the Lower East Side that brought you right back to reality.

So, instead of falling to the fate of women in public humiliated by the most obvious superficial expression of vulnerability and exposure – the taking off the clothes – you have come up with a new headline. BARED WOMAN CLOTHED BY HER CONCLUSION OF THE GREAT WORK. That woman’s name is VENUS. And today you made her a crown and bought her a dozen violet roses in preparation for your closing ritual.

THE ALCHEMY OF LOVE incorporates 19 manuscripts and a multitude of images derived from the pure emotional expression of a woman who could not find a publisher. More than one gatekeeper mistakenly classified your writing with romance novels. It was a harbinger of the category they now refer to as Chic Lit. But what made it radically different from both genres is that the protagonist never gets the guy, and in fact, is on a journey to seek within the qualities she once externally sought in a man.

Tonight, the closing ritual accepts this pioneering path as triumph, despite those left behind, foes disguised as lovers, who pull out their arsenal to attempt you from making your fate (aloneness) into destiny. A self-realized woman is a revolutionary, for she refuses to live in the projection of a man.

The amazing synchronicities that happen is the manner that the universe cheers on the seeker to a solitary state of bliss. Here in the gallery is chronicled the TRIUMPH, which you celebrate tonight in the performance that closes your ascent. On the other side is the media that incessantly chronicles the starlets who fail to make this dream of becoming an original expression of the five -point synodic cycle of VENUS conscious.

Men must let go of projecting their buried emotions on women and instead view women as co-creators on a path of human evolution. But how does a man, or even a woman, get in touch with emotions? To your delight, John Knowles, the filmmaker who taped the ritual of FIRE and is coming to interview you in this highly charged space, and Matt Semler, the gallery owner, showed you not only is it possible but the everyday miracles that result. They are the New Men who walk with the New Women.

When you returned to the gallery this afternoon, you shared a consciousness of EARTH with John, ruled by the owl. that you don’t view the rejections personally. They are rejecting the expression of the authentic feminine, the rise of this power to consciousness. You have been diligent for years to find it and can safely report there is no well published expression of this deep yearning, this burning of the feminine to be free of patriarchal projections and the patterns that keep them women and men mired in self-defeating behavior.

Surrounding you and projected on the floor through the shadow of the sun is the expression of the authentic feminine crying out for recognition. Naked she is. And even now, a man stands but four feet from you. How the love surges through you to know her cry is being read, literally by the Man on the Street!

You tell John this just over an hour ago when he called to set up a time for the interview. He replies. “I just sat down to lunch with a woman who loves your expression.”

“Really,” you reply. “Is she an agent?”

“No, she is a publisher.”

Really?

Listen.

Birds are singing!! The SOLUTIO is nearly complete.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

AIR: WIND



Wednesday’s performance was early, to celebrate the FULL MOON, exact at 3:45. You manifested the magic before the ceremony took GEMINI off the floor and onto the gallery windows. You covered the third window covered with manuscripts chronicling the struggle to reach the conjunctio –to raise the kundalini power through the body to the third eye of knowledge and insight. Gemini is ruled by Mercury, patron of alchemy. This is the unknown ingredient in alchemy which causes us to lose our minds so we may open them to an entirely new manner of seeing. AIR rules the Sixth Chakra, the Third Eye of
enlightenment.



The Gemini phase of the Venus cycle originated the transformation of desire into a literary art form. The book that started the cycle was EROS YOU BURN ME! Eros does burn. Indeed. It is the kundalini energy. In EROS, initiated with the Venus rising of June 20, 1988, you organized the alchemy of love into elements: FIRE, WATER, EARTH and AIR.

For the next cycle, in an attempt to alchemize your talent into gold, you developed a new form, the mystical romance novel. Here you made the leap into commercial fiction, dividing your personality into three characters: Alex, Cybele and Ana, short for Inanna. You got a call from an agent named NETI, the name of the gatekeeper on Inanna’s journey to and from the Underworld. This made you so overjoyed you could hardly speak from excitement. But perhaps she picked up on your eagerness and viewed it as unprofessional and pulled back. So you remained intrigued by the synchronicity of her name and took it as a sign that it wasn’t yet time to go public with THE EXPERIMENT.

In the last cycle, begun June 14, 2004, you invented yet another new form: the seven layered journey of the kundalini in the body. You distilled your love affairs into transformation agents, allowing Mercury to accompany the Goddess through the body as you absorbed the meaning behind each connection. It began with your early experience of the HIEROS GAMOS, your suitor from the capitol city nearest to the clouds and ended with the East Village icon, which brought you full circle to the origin of the ARIES fire generated by your first novel, CHAMPAGNE TANGO, described as overheated by more than one editor!

Before yesterday’s ceremony, however, you went into LILLY’s, the hotel restaurant named for the purest of flowers, and met a journalist who asked for an interview. She was from the Boston Globe, doing a report on the New York reaction to the Iranian leader. Ahhhh, you say. He is a media creation. The tabloids made him a bull’s eye and he is relishing his role as scapegoat. He is playing the role of the shadow that we refuse to face in ourselves, the U.S. that is guzzling the world’s precious resources to maintain ever-expanding appetite for material wealth. This polarization between the opposites goes back to the cowboys and Indians and it is keeping us from being whole. She says, you know more than most Americans.

He is a performance artist, you say. Brilliant. Maybe not consciously so,but relishing his role on the world stage. And you know because YOU are a performance artist…

…this week!

Last week, or so, you wrote the review of Thomas McEvilly's THE TRIUMPH OF ANTI-ART: Conceptual and Performance Art in the Formation of Post-Modernism,which interpreted the parallel trajectory of Performance and Conceptual art through the late 20th century. In your view, the parallel converged with a dastardly stunt by trickster Mark Kostabi, self-made media creation to undermine the critical mechanism while luring them into the culture's celebrity obsession. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Title_This

And so, you have set out in a bold new direction. You bare your soul on the pages of the manuscripts that sat for years in your mother’s attic. You now bare them in the window in the form of a spiral. In the center you place the rejection slips. Despite this suited gentleman standing about four feet from you reading a rejection, feeling ever more protected as you progressively cover the gallery walls with the transparency of your struggle. It takes great innocence and great skill to write in a manner that guides the course of your life. Aquavit, the Water of Life flowing onto the page in the form of a chalice spilling your words.



Long before the invention of the Internet and digital media, you envisioned your journey with multi-layered images and the Lab has made this dream come true. You have stripped yourself NAKED in order to bring your vision into fruition in the most 21st century manner, the union of Heaven & Earth!!!

The FULL MOON is dancing with delight across your AXIS!



And today you celebrate the reflection of this lunation as your course through the SUBLIMATIO builds steam. You get the word from Ampu this morning that his spiritual father, the African shaman who healed Bill Clinton from his clumsy attempt to bring the CONJUNCTIO into the Oval Office, has been alerted to your experiment and is sending positive virations into the gallery space. So here you have a real life CONJUNCTIO reflected from the writing into AIR in your dance with WIND! You can feel that energy in you now. It feels like it is building a molten layer to your solar plexus, the masculine Chakra that delivers you to a place of power in the world. The preparation for tonight’s ceremony celebrating GOLD!!!

AIR: CURRENTS



NAKED WOMAN BARING ALL. The celebrity obsessed culture is ruled by a media obsessed with the baring of flesh. How much more significant is the baring of the soul! And what is soul but emotion responding to images. And what are images but dreams taking us further into the current of life? To embrace this paradox is to overcome the duality of life and death.

At this second point of the pentacle, SCORPIO, where you struggle with a language for desire to make your images real, you write about the serpent power, the kundalini, as a means of embodiment. Your body of work contains the path to awakening which brings you to this place of self-exposure.

What is so rewarding about this phase of the experiment is that your molded words, the extraction of your experience, is being acknowledged and read! It allows you to test your detachment from the emotional struggles of your past. The preparation for this extraction of the alchemical gold took months. In early July, you began to create a system in which your body of work would be organized in accordance with the Experiment. And here it is at the border of the sacred circle surrounding VENUS. Who now has a face!

Your manuscripts ordered into stacks, creating a shrine to a lost delivery system in publishing the actual tactile words rather than the digital disk. After the organization came the paper works in which you fulfilled a dream of finishing them in encaustic. You fast for four days, enter the conjunctio in an Autumn Equinox performance of Daniel Rothbart’s VENUS: MEDITATION MEDIATION timed with the sunset across 47th street, and connect with the son of a god-man from Africa you name Anu in reverence to the ever-present origin, the Sumerian pantheon.

In stretching towards heaven while your personal language of images is projected ten feet tall in the gallery, magical feats are performed in the ceremonial space. A reservation at Aquavit for six pulled out of AIR resulted in being seated immediately following your performance of BARING YOUR SOUL. Your mother sews a purple star on SUBLIMATIO, covering the spot where you ripped it on the metal door. So, you broke your fast, brazenly, with a three-course meal prepared with the invention and dramatic delivery of your performance art. The courses were delivered on square plates that formed a hexagon, the geometry of the sacred marriage. It was resplendent! The evening had a perfect symmetry to the day. You performed in your aqua dress and dined at Aquavit, which means Water of Life. So, the current of the ritual was matched in the expression of food, each bite with a foretaste, a taste and an aftertaste.

Water of life, poured for thirsty men! Water of Life –you deliver in writing with titles that tell the story of the neglect of the female power by the patriarchy: PLEASURE, GODDESS, WOLF IN THE BOTTLE, ASTARA IS BORN, NON! MYSTICAL MARRIAGE and RED TEARS OF PERSEPHONE. Speaking of Persephone, you were about to give it all up to run off to Africa with your new suitor who sends a lightening bolt rippling through you when he totally got the creation. “I was looking at you,” he said. What is really interesting today is how the people read the words in the window without even noticing you. You are invisible. Synchronistically, Matt tells you that he was just blown away by the film, Being There. The invisible made visible through the act of personal projection. So he is experiencing it too.

BARING THE SOUL. You tell Matt that you would rather have the masses project onto you than the experience of romantic projections that end up in unread piles on the floor of an art gallery. Heaven and Earth uniting as you balance desire with rejection while perched in the window between the words of the gatekeepers and your own 50,000 words contained in boxes stacked in piles on the floor. One pile to each horn of the pentagram made by the Venus synodic cycle.

Today’s pile is Scorpio which gave birth to a growing detachment from the impetuous (AIRES) expression of longing to manifest the kundalini in form: Every day of the five-day performance of weaving rejection slips between your writing in the window, you feel more protected because your body is shielded by the outpourings from your soul. The artistry of the artist shields her from vulnerability, a relic of the shedding of skins. You make this truth self-evident as the windows fill with the unity of desire juxtaposed with the rejection of desire.

This rejection takes place on two levels: the sexual rejection that prompts you to write and the rejection of the gatekeepers of Old Media who, like the cops standing outside the window, keep any new form of dynamic expression from entering the collective mind, particularly a form of expression plunging into the thorny problem of female desire. It is all too evident in the media public wants to know why the Lindsey Lohans, the Britney Spears, and Paris Hiltons of the world can plunge down a spiral of self-destruction. Where are the voices providing the illumination? Murdered at the gate because the exploration of desire was mistaken, quite accurately if it was authentic, for desire itself. The desire to publish, the passion to make visible this energy that drives your every passionate act through the literal binding of your self-expression into a form called a book. The opposites unite to create a border between the personal and public where no border existed in the earlier stages of the Experiment.



So naked you are, there is not much left to reveal. People are entering this place of balance by reading your words and the words of Saturn, the shadow ruling tradition that seeks to crush the evolutionary spirit reflected in the sublimatio, the lead that was transformed through this experiment. They are participating in your experiment by actually reading the rejection letters. Some of them describe your writing as heated, sensuous and lively. This acknowledgement is the manifestation of the Full Moon exposure crossing your chart exact at 3:45 PM today, Wednesday. But this is the dynamism in life that you commit to the page. How exposed you feel under the Full Moon with people reading your rejection letters right outside the window where you write this blog entry! Hearing your name from passerbys is a bit shocking. You aren’t famous even though Venus now wears a mask of protection forged through the alchemical blend of silver (Luna), gold (Sol) and copper (Venus). The mask forged from these metals integrates the Morning and Evening Star aspects of Venus into a unity, which defines the 21st expression of Venus. Your skin feels raw and you wonder if it would be less painful if you had remained in the ethers with your fast. But the dramatic pull between the opposites may have been worth it because there was a process of revelation that arrived with your Lunar Return at dawn. You suddenly got it. The conjunctio or sacred marriage isn’t just about the bliss in the crown chakra. The conjunctio is about the spiral flowing up and down in a continual dynamic motion that is an expression of life.

Yesterday, with the Moon Uranus conjunction triggering the Eclipse point, you were catalyzing the energy to perform what Gloria Steinem calls “ordinary acts of rebellion.” Through the alchemical experiment made evident by the 19 manuscripts stacked in the objective form of a pentagram in the gallery, you have overcome your immature acts of rebellion. You have arrived at an extremely sophisticated act of personal rebellion. How do you know this? It is your female energy versus the energy created by the men in blue creating an atmosphere of fear, anxiety and tension. The smiles and waves from the four cops assigned to the corner outside you window are proof that you have transformed lead into gold.

The date selected for this chapter was the FALL EQUINOX. You had no idea that the U.N. was having its General Assembly just three blocks down the street. An act of rebellion, yes, but a very sophisticated one at that! An act of rebellion involves risk. Risk requires the innocence you spent years cultivating through private rituals that you have now taken public. There is a current in the air that you innocence allows you to hook into through your daily rituals in the sacred circle surrounding VENUS.

Once protected by the broken pieces of mirror on her torso, she now wears your personal symbolism in your natal chart in a T-shirt over her chest. This chart reveals an emotional vulnerability, the attunement to universal symbol through the language of personal symbol and ability to fly on the collective current. On Monday, you gave yourself a new identity ruled by the first “horn” of the pentacle, Aries, as you gave insight by placing excerpts from Champagne Tango Red Tears of Persephone and Aquarian Age 2000 on the window. On Tuesday, you add a new layer to that identity with excerpts from the Scorpio pile: ASTARA IS BORN, PSYCHE ON 79TH STREET and GODDESS.

The color left on the top of the stack was orange, representing the Second Chakra, the genitals. You who began this journey into The Alchemy of Love with a fuchsia tunic in FIRE now are naked within the aqua spiral of SUBLIMATIO. The performance makes visible the act of transcendence of desire. This air of expectancy is captured by your view: the edge between human and technology captured by the barricades lined up on Lexinington Avenue. You breathe life into the Equinox balance between Heaven & Earth through your performances. The passerby doesn’t seem aware of it, but sensitive you are attuned to shifting currents. In your shamanic acts, you guide them to your focused expression.



Last year, on the FALL EQUINOX you led a performance to bring Persephone and Pluto into a relationship of shared power to reach an authentic gender equality. And this year's FALL EQUINOX ritual...What has the circle revealed to you about the relationship between VENUS, your art, and Persephone’s desire to plunge into the underworld of a complete sexual experience? It is 3:09 PM. The FULL MOON is peaking. The mysteries of this eclipse cycle that began a month ago with the lunar eclipse will be revealed during your ceremony, when you welcome the GEMINI energy ruling the media with the ritual of pasting excerpts from the AIR stack of manuscripts on the third window of the gallery. Thought precedes action; even today your writing foretells the future that you create through your proactive spirituality. At this point, you prepare to enter the sacred circle with a focus: to harness the current to create a WIND at your back carrying the spirit of the SUBLIMATIO. You expect a familiarity that will prove boring -- all because you first experienced it first in the fourth dimension, the realm of the angels and struggled like an expectant mother for 20 years to crash it down into every day reality lorded over by the NAKED VENUS all dressed up for a new millennium.

Monday, September 24, 2007

AIR (SUBLIMATIO): LIGHTENING




You cannot remember when you first became aware of Inanna. It must have been Crystal, your mystical friend in Los Angeles, a Libran ruled by Venus, who sent the initial lightening bolt through your body. She resonated to ancient Sumer and modeled her life on the bold and illustrious goddess who proclaimed herself Queen of Heaven and Earth. You can’t remember the earliest initiation of the universal icon to whom you have dedicated your shrine but you CAN remember, however, when you fell in love with Inanna. It was when you discovered the book of her hymns that you refer to as the red bible. That was in the bookstore of the Louvre where you stood transfixed while reading some of the most erotic poetry ever written, where a woman’s vulva is compared to the land, “Lover come plow my fields!” Heyo had just transported you to her realm when he took you to the most ancient artifacts – the relics of Inanna’s image excavated from ancient Sumer. You found her! An ancient goddess so alive she jumped off the walls of the museum and into your arms. That was the lightening bolt! A return to the ever-present origin! At that moment, you knew the purpose of your life was to bring her into form! When you felt that electrical current (more on that tomorrow) you knew it was Inanna working through you. And so you declared “Hail Inanna!” whenever you called up that energy for a creative venture arising from your own energy source. How many tight spots did you escape from on the road by simply calling her name? How many manuscripts did you create in her image? Eighteen! So, here you are in SUBLIMATO, the name you gave to Selma’s spiral dress made for this performance on the magical evening of the Solar Eclipse! Spirit entering form. The balance of Pisces and Virgo! The sky blue spiral dress with a violet metallic collar in reverence to Inanna while extending blessings for the healing of the earth in the sacred space you created last night during a ritual ceremony. Two old ladies gaze in the window, smile and wave. The marigolds are appearing on the walls, the planting you made as a resurrection following the sinking into Earth, which you believed to be your own death. Now the pink roses, the six pack of pink roses expressing your innocence. The fountain of renewal that guided you on all the other paperworks revealing your language of symbols! All your favorite symbols contained in this magical space where angels have descended! Venus with her mirrored torso wearing your ripped T-shirt with your astrological chart, her star symbol repeatedly projected behind her. Here she has a face! Yes, a mask you created precisely at the Autumn Equinox, the sky blue face of the Sky Goddess woven with copper, the element ruled by Venus. She is carrying her golden rod with its feathers and blue ribbon washed by the tide. At her throat is a mirrored pentagram. The lightening is on her shirt, the symbol of Aquarius. She has arrived! The Sky Goddess! Back in Fire, when the gallery was mistaken for a brothel as you wrote on the black silk sheets your mother gifted you for Christmas, you had such a fervent desire to transcend. The ceremony you did with MP seems…magick is happening! John Knowles raps on the window and you invite him into the sacred space you created in his father’s hotel and he tells me of the molting he just experienced. And you know, the amazing synchronicity of him rapping on the window at the moment you – there are five cops standing right outside the window and lights flashing Secret Service men in black shades, even in nighttime. Barricades across Lexington Avenue. Empty streets. Eerie! The UN conference on global warming taking place. The fourth day of your fast and you are soaring but on Earth! An entirely new sensation! Such a convergence of Heaven & Earth. Saturn, the law, the authority protecting Venus brandishing her feathers, symbol of heaven, the angelic messengers. “That is an African figure you created,” says the African diplomat who called through the window. She emerged during a Fall Equinox celebration of Venus as Morning Star, you tell him. He wants to know more and John gives him the Roger Smith News card. He has many questions and wants to enter the space but the front door cannot be opened. Instantly you know he is a diplomat – he has an elevated diplomatic air about him – but it doesn’t take a psychic to make the association because this area, 47th street, is thick with diplomats. He loves SUBLIMATIO, the collaboration with Selma Karaca. He totally gets it: the snake spiraling up the body and the violet metallic collar over your heart – the universal love detached and liberated at last! You caught SUBLIMATIO on the side door and it ripped. Oh, there goes the perfection of the essence, the spirit in matter! But as you close the door, you have an inspiration – to put a purple star over the hole and when you re-enter the sacred space you place a star on each of the five horns of Venus. And you will place a new star on your dress for every day of the ritual. Eighteen unpublished manuscripts in five piles. Five piles of manuscripts ordered in the shape of a pentacle. Five nights of passing through the five horns of the pentacle and at the end you discover the ultimate – the resurrection of Venus as Lover. Heart and mind united with body. SUBLIMATIO is the extraction, the objective form arising from subjective experience. You know this birth of the spirit in the material because you watched it taking form as Selma snaked the chord through the sky blue fabric into a spiral winding up to your heart. The personal transmitted into the universal. It is the detachment that comes with having gone through the earlier stages – two girls smoking and giggling at the window. Every day is a ritual. Last night you ended your ceremony with the posting of five rejection letters in the window. Tonight you are celebrating the manuscripts completed during the first horn, Aries, and Aries appeared as John Knowles, telling you of his spiritual adventures in the last nine months since the ritual that began FIRE – the ritual where MP called in the Aquarian Age goddess. John is dancing as you talk to the gentleman you pulled in with your magick – your stroll to the U.N. which took you by the building on Dag Hammerskojld Plaza where you once worked as a researcher on international business and the restaurants where you dined with diplomats. There is an instant connection with this diplomat and his curiosity, you know it is authentic, so you wave him around to the side door and there you learned his many names and give him your card and he tells you that when he say, not the installation but YOU, sitting in the dark of the window writing this blog entry, he says, “I saw us dancing together.” He has an elevated energy that matches your own, and miraculously, he is grounded in the energy. Completely focused. And you know it is true because of the magic -- the Aries dancing as you are about to post the three manuscripts created to honor the first horn, Aries, the fire of the thunderbolt. And even then, nd with the most unlikely candidates for love, you knew that love was a dance. But here you are having reached the SUBLIMATIO after 25 years of alchemical experiment and who could this incredibly focused gentleman be but the Dumuzi suitor who comes from a land where love is a universal dance that unites human with the gods. This is another synchronicity. You write this even as the doves are flying off the wall. The release of the doves is the spirit of the SUBLIMATIO cops congregating in groups of four and smiling when you take their picture. And the week has only just begun! But what a beginning! You have been struck by lightening,

AIR (SUBLIMATIO): LIGHTENING

You cannot remember when you first became aware of Inanna. It must have been Crystal, your mystical friend in Los Angeles, a Libran ruled by Venus, who sent the initial lightening bolt through your body. She resonated to ancient Sumer and modeled her life on the bold and illustrious goddess who proclaimed herself Queen of Heaven and Earth. You can’t remember the earliest initiation of the universal icon to whom you have dedicated your shrine but you CAN remember, however, when you fell in love with Inanna. It was when you discovered the book of her hymns that you refer to as the red bible. That was in the bookstore of the Louvre where you stood transfixed while reading some of the most erotic poetry ever written, where a woman’s vulva is compared to the land, “Lover come plow my fields!” Heyo had just transported you to her realm when he took you to the most ancient artifacts – the relics of Inanna’s image excavated from ancient Sumer. You found her! An ancient goddess so alive she jumped off the walls of the museum and into your arms. That was the lightening bolt! A return to the ever-present origin! At that moment, you knew the purpose of your life was to bring her into form! When you felt that electrical current (more on that tomorrow) you knew it was Inanna working through you. And so you declared “Hail Inanna!” whenever you called up that energy for a creative venture arising from your own energy source. How many tight spots did you escape from on the road by simply calling her name? How many manuscripts did you create in her image? Eighteen! So, here you are in SUBLIMATO, the name you gave to Selma’s spiral dress made for this performance on the magical evening of the Solar Eclipse! Spirit entering form. The balance of Pisces and Virgo! The sky blue spiral dress with a violet metallic collar in reverence to Inanna while extending blessings for the healing of the earth in the sacred space you created last night during a ritual ceremony. Two old ladies gaze in the window, smile and wave. The marigolds are appearing on the walls, the planting you made as a resurrection following the sinking into Earth, which you believed to be your own death. Now the pink roses, the six pack of pink roses expressing your innocence. The fountain of renewal that guided you on all the other paperworks revealing your language of symbols! All your favorite symbols contained in this magical space where angels have descended! Venus with her mirrored torso wearing your ripped T-shirt with your astrological chart, her star symbol repeatedly projected behind her. Here she has a face! Yes, a mask you created precisely at the Autumn Equinox, the sky blue face of the Sky Goddess woven with copper, the element ruled by Venus. She is carrying her golden rod with its feathers and blue ribbon washed by the tide. At her throat is a mirrored pentagram. The lightening is on her shirt, the symbol of Aquarius. She has arrived! The Sky Goddess! Back in Fire, when the gallery was mistaken for a brothel as you wrote on the black silk sheets your mother gifted you for Christmas, you had such a fervent desire to transcend. The ceremony you did with MP seems…magick is happening! John Knowles raps on the window and you invite him into the sacred space you created in his father’s hotel and he tells me of the molting he just experienced. And you know, the amazing synchronicity of him rapping on the window at the moment you – there are five cops standing right outside the window and lights flashing Secret Service men in black shades, even in nighttime. Barricades across Lexington Avenue. Empty streets. Eerie! The UN conference on global warming taking place. The fourth day of your fast and you are soaring but on Earth! An entirely new sensation! Such a convergence of Heaven & Earth. Saturn, the law, the authority protecting Venus brandishing her feathers, symbol of heaven, the angelic messengers. “That is an African figure you created,” says the African diplomat who called through the window. She emerged during a Fall Equinox celebration of Venus as Morning Star, you tell him. He wants to know more and John gives him the Roger Smith News card. He has many questions and wants to enter the space but the front door cannot be opened. Instantly you know he is a diplomat – he has an elevated diplomatic air about him – but it doesn’t take a psychic to make the association because this area, 47th street, is thick with diplomats. He loves SUBLIMATIO, the collaboration with Selma Karaca. He totally gets it: the snake spiraling up the body and the violet metallic collar over your heart – the universal love detached and liberated at last! You caught SUBLIMATIO on the side door and it ripped. Oh, there goes the perfection of the essence, the spirit in matter! But as you close the door, you have an inspiration – to put a purple star over the hole and when you re-enter the sacred space you place a star on each of the five horns of Venus. And you will place a new star on your dress for every day of the ritual. Eighteen unpublished manuscripts in five piles. Five piles of manuscripts ordered in the shape of a pentacle. Five nights of passing through the five horns of the pentacle and at the end you discover the ultimate – the resurrection of Venus as Lover. Heart and mind united with body. SUBLIMATIO is the extraction, the objective form arising from subjective experience. You know this birth of the spirit in the material because you watched it taking form as Selma snaked the chord through the sky blue fabric into a spiral winding up to your heart. The personal transmitted into the universal. It is the detachment that comes with having gone through the earlier stages – two girls smoking and giggling at the window. Every day is a ritual. Last night you ended your ceremony with the posting of five rejection letters in the window. Tonight you are celebrating the manuscripts completed during the first horn, Aries, and Aries appeared as John Knowles, telling you of his spiritual adventures in the last nine months since the ritual that began FIRE – the ritual where MP called in the Aquarian Age goddess. John is dancing as you talk to the gentleman you pulled in with your magick – your stroll to the United Nations which took you by the building on Dag Hammerskojld Plaza where you once worked as a researcher on international business and the restaurants where you dined with diplomats. There is an instant connection with this diplomat and his curiosity, you know it is authentic, so you wave him around to the side door and there you learned his many names and give him your card and he tells you that when he say, not the installation but YOU, sitting in the dark of the window writing this blog entry, he says, “I saw us dancing together.” He has an elevated energy that matches your own, and miraculously, he is grounded in the energy. Completely focused. And you know it is true because of the magic -- the Aries dancing as you are about to post the three manuscripts created to honor the first horn, Aries, the fire of the thunderbolt. And even then, nd with the most unlikely candidates for love, you knew that love was a dance. But here you are having reached the SUBLIMATIO after 25 years of alchemical experiment and who could this incredibly focused gentleman be but the Dumuzi suitor who comes from a land where love is a universal dance that unites human with the gods. This is another synchronicity. You write this even as the doves are flying off the wall. The release of the doves is the spirit of the SUBLIMATIO cops congregating in groups of four and smiling when you take their picture. And the week has only begun! But what a beginning! You have been struck by lightening,

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

AIR: PROLOGUE



Alchemical texts
Typically
Forged into stone by men
What did they know?

The transformation takes place
In the body
Of the woman!

Mercurius
Curious fellow
So many characters
In the broken chalice.

Perceval, the Grail Seeker
Dumuzi, the Lover
Dionysius, the “homegrown” partier
Orion, the Hunter
And now, Priapus
The Prick!

Swallowed up
By Earth
Grotesque Priapus
With his pruning knife
Aimed at you

You got balls!
Razor sharp bite
Slicing the chord
Forever

You got balls, he said.
And hung up
Reap what you sow,
Priapus!

Society not ready
For the Sky Goddess
The Priestess tells me

And you have been placed
In isolation
In preparation
With the mother

When you have sex, the Priestess declares
Energies intertwine up the spine
Kundalini rises
To the altar
The crown

Alchemical
The feminine Salt
Purifying the Sulfurous
Male
Mercury creating connections

People who have sex too soon
Don’t know they are taking in
The energy of the Other
Toxicity engorging the prick!

Pirapus
Guardian of the Garden
Joint in the mouth
Leering with his blade
Too flabby to sluice
His own erection

Phallus
Growing larger
By the moment

Here is the change
Mercury in Leo
VENUS in Leo
Mars in Gemini
Jupiter Direct!

Death is the end
Of Earth
The swallowing
Of the Characters
Born in Fire

Y, the Yod with its
Conjunctio of opposites
Right & left paths
Converge in Salamander & Serpent

Fame
With its Mylar reflection
The Scales
Of Silver and Gold
The Pentacle
The Iron Maiden!

Death the ultimate
Grounding
Body decaying into Earth
Roots

Tentacles extending into the underground
The Spring
Bursting forth
The Aquarian Age Goddess

Created from Salt
Acting on Sulfur
Phew!

How he stinks
Of herb
Nicotine
Mercury poisoning
Sulfurous Priapus!

The spring
Reviving Life
The Underground Stream
Sophia Surfacing
In your body

Characters born of the Nigredo
Consumed by Earth
Goddess devouring
Preparing the ground for the New

Death the ultimate
Embodiment
Flesh & bones sinking into Earth
Womb of the Great Mother

Calling forth
The sign, Water Bearer
You wear it
Over your heart



Alembic destroyed
Experiment over
And so, death
To the Old

On with the New!
The return of the cross
Mars in Taurus
Stampeding bulls
Charging forth
The image for AIR

Chalice shattered
What does it mean?
Asked your left brain
Even as your right brain
Guided you to
Create in the darkness

Every afternoon
Three days
Until the finger is pricked
On the Broken Chalice

Blood, said the Knight
Over a blood sausage
And Spanish Rioja
There is no ritual
Without it

Reflecting the Water Bearer
Dragon at the base
Desire transformed
Into Spirit

Blonde Goddess materialized
At the center of your astrological chart
Covering your heart
Chalice containing the Star

The Water Bearer embodied
Declares a shimmering Pentacle
Inside the Broken Chalice
With spiral disk, slender stem
Surrounded by chards
Broken dreams

The mirror of the conjunctio
Pulled away & shattered
Mercurius disappears
Priapus swelling forth
Erection plunging into Air
Engorged in blood

Splattered in fury
You really got balls!
Erect phallus
Wielding a shadow
Over the experiment

Pruning Knife
Cutting of the connection
For ever,
So he warned

There was a female
Alchemist
Maria, the Prophetesa
Derived the formula
1+1 = 3

An exchange of sexual energy
Results in a third entity
The Conjunctio
Under the best of conditions
And the parade of archetypes
Under the worst

And so
Saturn rules this performance
What does the god say
CAPITALIZE!



The Water Bearer
In the Pentacle
Is You!
You claimed it
With your heart

Alembic broke
You give out no more
Experiment complete
Earth gives way to Air
Purifying Salt
Liberated from Sulfur

How liberating is this!
From your pattern
Usually you stick around
Dedicated to Sulfur

The work of a lifetime
Tireless & endless
Making Perceval conscious
Of Priapus!

You are the flakiest person
I have ever met!
He told you
When the Serpent descended

Priapus arose with his Pruning Knife
Chord severed
But not before heralding you
With the Sky Goddess
Projection

You have balls!
He told you
The second time

Alembic shattered by the force
Of the Bull
Characters devoured
By Hades
Experiment complete
You can fly again!

The Conjunctio
Is Internal
We know this after


After thousands of years
Women no longer slaves
To the Sulfurous male
In need of their purifying salt

You say
Take all the Earth
And its bodies of work!
Keep them as reminders

Souvenirs
Of female liberation
From the Alchemist
Slash Genius Slash
Priapus

Just stuff!
Take it

I never want to speak to you again!
He said
The prick!

And so,
The sulfurous masculine
Remains behind
Sinking into his own bile

Your conscience is clean
Years of confrontation
With the inner male
Mirror shattered



No more mirrors, he said
Indeed
And so, the image
Arising out of the shards
Of mirror

Liberation is at hand!
In his accusation
You got balls,
Says Priapus

When you ask for the bodies
Of work in his possession
(how many women artists have
gone through this with their male slash collaborators slash geniuses slash pricks!)

His parting gift
Acknowledging
The Hermaphrodite
In you

Triggering your vision
The inner conjunctio
Ready to roll

Sulfurous male
Descends
You fly
Phoenix out of the nest

You got balls,
He says
When you, all innocence
Nicely ask for your characters
The ingredients to the Mandala

But no,
You won’t see them again.
Mandala swept away with the Earth
Old mirror shattered
New mirror born

The Buddhist Monks
Sweeping away the Mandala
Letting go of the material

Embracing impermanence
As a lifestyle
At last!

In bed on this morn
Taking inventory
The silver mirror
Pentacle
Scales

Characters submerged
In earth
Underground
They will remain

You got balls!
The icon Inanna
Cherrywood
A gift from the sculptor
On your birthday, 1998

First anniversary of the
Hexagram
In the heavens
Doorbells for breasts
Wings
Carved penis, erect

You got balls!
Cries Mercurius
The work is done!
You have embodied the image
Fierce, winged, open, headless
Embodied
Vulnerable

Aquarian Age Goddess
Sulfuric man
Be gone with you!

You are the flakiest person I have ever met
Proclaimed Mercurius
Wow!
I am free to be me, again
You declare to yourself

Liberated from
The prison of these many years
Fourteen!
Of preparation
At the origin
In your mother’s garden

Where ugly plant bloomed
When you returned from the
Underworld
Free from Pluto’s clutches
At least for a season

Could it be for good now?
Mercurius in his multiple guises
Dionysius the tooker
Orion the boastful hunter
Dumuzi, the Beloved
Even Gilgamesh
Declaring
I will not be your next victim!

Of the fierce love
Of the Goddess
Stripped of power to make love
Wages only war

But you have restored
Queen of Heaven and Earth
For a new era

Opposites converging
In your body
Doorbell breasts revealed
To the world

Declaring the genius
Of the Male who confronted
Sulfur
To purify himself
For the Sacred Marriage

At least one exists
You know it
Because he appeared in your
Dream
Beside the canal in Bath
Asking,
Is that you healing me?
He knows!

And so we await the wedding
But first we claim our prize
Trophies Lost and Found
Reward Sought
A new work created
From the pile of found objects
Trophies of a long distance runner
A woman

You reward yourself
Trophies Lost and Found
For having gone the distance
Placed in a mandala
On the garden altar



Mylar mirror
You named FAME
Confiscated
Reflected now in the Venus
Mirror
Reflecting the Water Bearer
Your heart

Venus in her perfect
Symmetrical rhythm
Returning to eight years ago
The cycle that bestowed
On your path

The Beloved
Who created the American icon
That broke the alembic
Complicity between
Government and art
Could only be bad for the culture

Eight years ago
Mirrored in the star
Now the star
Is you!

Three drops of blood
On the reflection
Of the lance…er camera
Weapon of self-validation

Without it,
No record of the public experiment
The rest buried in Earth
Claimed by Priapus
As his own

Co-creator
Turned destroyer
Lance is the shiny reflection
Of the contradiction
Uniting
The World Axis

The cardinal points
(oh yes, how you needed his cardinal energy)
Cancer is the Yin & Yang
Entry point of the human manifestation
Of the universal archetypes
Of Capricorn

Oh the insights
Brought by the Earth Goddess!
Shared with the Capricorn priestess
Under this half moon in Earth1
Taurus, the budding priestess
Of Anja,
Child of the New Age

Cardinal points
Human & universal
Converge
On your personal axis
The turning point
We will see

Lance is Air
Masculine thrust
Element of your Sun
Opposed by Fire
Uranus in the sign
Of its fall

You have planted
Marigold anew
In the air
The deck of the High Priestess
Earth Mother



Mary Gold
The Heavenly Bride
The golden bloom
Off the Conjunctio

Little Fire Sun
Blazing a path
Underground
The conjunctio
Of Venus & the Sun

The chaos of change
Venus in the underworld
Shedding the skin
Of Capricorn
Preparing the fiery cloak
LEO!

Virgin transformed
Into Love Goddess
With her six blooms
The hexagram
Of the Lovers!



Your star burns
In your heart
Reflecting the heavenly passage
Of Venus
From Evening to Morning Star

A dream warns
No more time for reflection
When she arrives
Time for Action!

So little time left
Years of preparation
Underground
And now…

Air carries you
On the wings of angels
Supernova
Blazing image and word
Across the galaxy

Your task now
Aquarian bride
To find Leo
Lion of Judah
Consort envisioned
By Starbird

Materials scattered to the wind
Bride of the Wind
A healing image
Kokoska threatened to kill
His muse
Your image-maker only threatened
To break your legs!

Ahhh What an image!
Disembodiment
Legs grounded permanently in earth
Spirit flies
To great destiny!

Satiated in Earth
The deck of the Priestess
In Bloom!

Earth upon the Air
The only place there is sun
She says
What a manifestation
Of your in-between
Life

Finishing up Earth
Preparing for air.
Begonia, yellow
Forget me Not, bright blue

Our Lady of Guadalupe
Transforms structure
Hexagram
Roses changing
Mother Goddess
Into Love Goddess





Your spiritual guide
Whose burial
Lead you on the manifestation
Of earth

Mother
From her casket
Protecting her children
Through the scent of the rose
Spicy!
The abundance of the early harvest
Lamas!
Prepared for lifetimes

Spicy scent
Before the Death
Of the Mother
Who led you on the journey

Her blood daughter
Priestess with child
Relates the magic
Of the bloom enfolding you
In its spell
On air
The deck.

A stem flew out of the soil
Grew fast
Bloomed the day
She died
Flower stayed for so long

Earth Mother
Speaking to her daughter
Saying, I’m OK
You are OK
Go forth now daughter
Bloom with the New Age

Let it be
A sign of the cycle
Death and rebirth
The return of the goddess
A month ago
July

Thinking of the mother
Burst into bloom
So many blooms
Greeting you in air!

Mother speaking through the rose
Not just one bloom
But six
The number of the Sacred Marriage
Impending
What other sign do you need?

The matrix of the six
The beehive
Praying for guidance
Cluster of Six Blooms
You cheer over the matrix

Thank you Mother
For the six
Pink for innocence
The resurrection of the Groom
Who must die
Once again
To wed properly
In the Conjunctio

Oh, yes
Once more
The artist asks
How much deeper do I go

As deep as you need go
To manifest
The Eternal Return
Bringing in the myth
Of the Aquarian Age
Opposites equal
The balance of the Six

Illusions shattered
The faulty suitors
Imprisoning you
In the cycle of Preparation
Attraction, manifestation
Letting go

And so
With the High Priestess
The message clear
In your vision
To be codified in AIR

Mirror in shards
The pricks of blood
Cinderella emerging from the hearth
Cooked
Ready
For Marriage



The thirty years of
Glamour and disappearance
Finally over
She is ready

Venus in this incarnation
Too powerful
For words
Could only emerge
Through the union
Image and words

The roses in six-pack
Speak
Of legions
Six, the number of the Lovers
Page Six
The devastation of the Lovers
Revealed

Beginning With Spark
Fire
Flame
The Alchemist a product
Of the Nigredo
Lead transformed
By Mercury
Awareness of the pattern
Awareness of the conclusion
Of patterns
To exhaustion

Ultimately Boredom
The worst imaginable assault
On the sky Goddess
Is boredom!

Filled by the power
OF the co-creation
Conjunctio

Too strong
For the alembic
Shattered
Broken
Glass pricking your forefinger

Left hand
Guided by right brain
Intuition ruling
The solitary experiment
Alembic shattered
Blood flows
And Life begins

Blood, declared the English
Knight
There is ritual
Without it
So blood on the chalice
Drops on the pentacle
Reflecting

Your guiding symbol
Aquarian Age
Water Bearer
And so you tell
Your tale
The return of the Bride
The Resurrected Groom

The Grail
Carrying the Bloodline
The Conjunctio
Of God and Goddess
Jesus & Mary Magdeline
Inanna & Dumuzi

And so you return
To origin
The Aquarian wave
Cruising the blog
The carrier of the bloodline

Chalice Bearer
Whose cup you fill
With your Aquarian spirit



And so we return
Guided by the rose
Our lady of Guadalupe
Blooming in six
Number of the Lovers

Ego dies
I am mortal
It declares
Soul is eternal
Saturn rules the Coagulatio

Bye Saturn
The Great Mother
Coagulatio feels like dying
The transition is huge

Behold!
A new experience
After 20 years
And several lifetimes
Of alchemical experiments

Saturn transformed
From limiting father
Into Birth Mother

The ever-present origin
At its source
Birth Mother
Renewed of Spirit
Of her children

Old Saturn, the timekeeper
Withers on the vine
Priapus pissing
Over creation
That he cannot make real
On his own
No matter how long is
His prick!

And So
Earth Goddess
Guides you
Into living history
Evidence
The choreographer tells
Of a legacy that inspires

And so you dance
To the celebration
Death and rebirth
Your journalism
And creations merge
Into a single message
Ending your interview
JOY!

An image of your bicycle
Airborne
With wings

Fueled by your own power
Your unique path
Your self-created structure
The blessing of the Earth Goddess
Offering to Venus
Who has emerged
At last
From underground

Illusions die
But structure is real
The proof found
Yesterday
News of the perfect hexagram cloud
Hovering over the North Pole
Of Saturn!

What better sign
Could cross your path
Of the transformation

Of Earth
Saturn, ruler of structure
Projecting the Hieros Gamos
Into Air!!!

Grab a ring
You are
At last
Ready
To fly!

Sunday, July 8, 2007

EARTH: EPILOGUE



06/04/94 Exercise #3
The ending brings you back
To the beginning
Hampstead transcribed
By way of Morningside Heights

My teacher’s note:
Very funny and convincing
Well done

Because it was real!
A real experience
Leading me to Real World

You reminisce before the tombstone
In Harwich
As you write this epilogue




And so we return
Full spiral
Through the Heart Chakra
To Assisa
Not because her name rhymes with Lisa

But to acknowledge her courage
In the face of the struggle
To the Sacred Marriage

Her dying to the Hieros Gamos
As the first wave
Crested
1962

The love child
Carrying the seed
Destroyed by Lilith
Shadow of Inanna
Clouding the tree
Of the expectant Love Goddess

Cut down by Gilgamesh
Cedar hewn into throne
And marriage bed

What might Alexandra
Had become
Had she endured her celestial labors
To the second wave

The baker dozen
Or two
Brownies on Independence Day

Celebrating the triumph
Over the shadow
In timely fashion
7/7/7

Furies circling
The big yellow house
With their death chant
Death

An injured eye
Forcing an inward gaze
The emerald star
On the forehead
Enticing you upward

Third eye ignited
With plans for Air
At the antique show

Totems calling your attention
The brass airplane pin
With rhinestone eyes
And snake bracelet

An artist dies everyday
Every action
A stab in the dark

Initials carved on
Bloodied instrument
Carving a space
For the new form

Space and time intersect
Saturn and Neptune
Dancing cheek to cheek
Round the Summer of Love

You know your position
In the cosmic unfolding
How you must condition

To die
Everyday
In order to claim it

After the funeral
Of the Queen
You make a call
A reservation on Virgin

So you will be New again
If you follow your dream
Bringing the past
From the shadows

Revolution around a spinning record
Reliving the past
By kicking the obstacles
From the turntable

You too, doomed
By the stars
With your Pisces Moon
Stranded in the 12th house
Without an outlet

The trail of indifferent women
Pushing you
To self-sabotage

But this time,
You surmounted
Water

Made it through
Submergence
Imprints of defeat

Transmuted into triumph
In the solar plexus
To the heart chakra

Your sun opposing your ruler
A closed system
The astrologer told you
Freedom, freedom, freedom
At any cost

The psychotic father
Who pushed the Edge
Until he fell face first
Into the abyss

But what are our stars
In the 21st century
But fate
Written in the heavens
Transcribed in earth



Inanna straddling her lions
From the clay tablets
We gain the knowledge
To bend fate
Into destiny

But what of the golden fox
Stalking you at the Cape
Your totem animal
Whispering a message
Be clever!

Venus rising from the bathtub
In her silk sheath
Radiating chartreuse
Bye descending
Into chaos
Preceding a new form

Oh Mercury!
You change direction now
Guide me
Through this earthly passage
Commitments, scheduling

Fitting into the form
Of the totem
Love’s relic
With its pomegranate stain
Replaced by thunderbolts




Electrifying Love's current
Through your body
Wired as it is
To the zeitgeist

Saturday, June 23, 2007

EARTH: DEATH


Day Five
Moon in Libra




You died last night
In the Fountain
At 2:30 AM
You curled up
And died

Disappearing over Earth
Under the black night
The black satin
Covering the bed in Fire

Death seized you
In the matrix
Leading you to Real World
And back

You return to the past
To arrive at the future
The nurturing of the body

Through the Venus cycles
Honored on the altar
The five mounds of matter
Containing the purified
Relics

Her pentacle shape
The rhythm by which she moves in the heavens
And below

Venus projecting the force
Of the feminine
Through her cycles
Of Death and Rebirth
As Morning and Evening Star

Aries, Gemini, Leo, Scorpio, Capricorn
The five points repeating itself
In a perfectly symmetrical
Rhythm
Absorbing the energies
Of liberation

The symbol of the labyrinth on the wall
Reflecting the Real World
Above the shrine to the New Man

The adept must travel the labyrinth
To arrive at the center
The six-petal Rosette
Symbol of the ancient love Goddess
Queen of Heaven & Earth

Myths, proclaimed the great teacher
Are created for the first time by the gods
And repeated into perpetuity by humans

You died last night
To be reborn
Into the emerald star
The alchemist placed
On your forehead

The vision filled the vessel
Emptied by five days
Of ritual fasting
A walk
Through the Mandela
Delivering Cosmos into Body
In midtown Manhattan

Taking position
On the throne
The center of
The Finger of God
Before the pregnant cow

A manifestation of a dream
When you were in the labyrinth
A cow with a coin in its belly
Lady Liberty born
From the resurrected female

Your hands burning
Yes, it is time
So much
Love from the street

Couples holding hands
Smiling
Thumbs up
You know what this means
The constellation has landed!

To hell with the art world
The media
Academics
Tentacles of the Patriarchy
Repressing the knowledge
Of liberation

You hear the voice
On the street
Climbing the stairway to heaven
Through the chakras
Spreading a new idea to the people
The body as the temple
Of a new religion

And you think about
The woman who wrote the book
On charisma
How her ideas were controversial
Not with the people
But the media
Who believed only THEY had charisma

Ha!
The serpent power is accessible to all

It is your destiny
To bypass the art world
The media
The academics
To bring this knowledge
To the people

Why else would you have chosen a father
Who went all the way to a mountaintop in India
To find the secret of the serpent power
Which ultimately destroyed him
Yet left trails for you to follow
Through the labyrinth
To find establish your own power
In the world

Last night you died
The sacrifice was essential
To make this knowledge
Known to humanity
The injustices in the world
Are simply too great

You are crying now
In the Fountain
Emboldened by the Coagulatio
As you recall Death
The earth is suffering
The pain that humans have inflicted on Her
Is immeasurable

The green light of compassion
Must flow
It begins with a conscious act
By a solitary human being
Sitting in an antique iron bathtub
In midtown Manhattan
And spreads to the world

The pain inflicted on the Native Americans
Custodians of the Earth
They invited you into their church
Where they poured their pain
Into water over the coals
Horrendous stories
Of disconnection
Alcoholism and despair

The shaman with the limp
Body used
For Polio experiments
He told you that
He died twice

Once you overcome your fear
Of death, he said
You can move
Between the worlds
You become a shaman
Interpreter

You have died so many times
On this journey
All to sit
In the center
Of the matrix formed
In last night’s ceremony

How many times
Have you shouted to the universe
Use me!
And finally it happened
Right in public

Four lines of energy connecting
Uranus and Neptune
The mutual reception between
Pisces and Aquarius
Funneling
Into the Moon
And Venus

Mars, the Warrior
The New Male
Who is grateful
To the Goddess
For making him whole
This was your experience
In the Coagulatio

During the Solstice ritual
You proclaimed
For the world to have peace
Masculine and feminine
Must integrate
And so you created the Mandela
Of the Sacred Marriage
The peace sign

Meditating
Before the cow
Carrying the seeds
In her belly

You disappeared
Into a trance state
Joined the spirits
Dancing
Inside the alchemist’s emerald star
Icon of the Conjunctio
Marriage of Sol and Luna

Peter Gabriel’s Passion raising
The spirits to dance through the gallery
Injecting the message
Into your body
It is time

You have gone through
Many deaths on this journey
The more rapid the alchemical transmutation
The more deaths you must endure

Death in the high desert
Where you discovered
A biography on Krishnamurti
And there, in a photo of Annie Besant’s inner circle
A photo of Nick’s ancestor
In Bishop’s hat

You died in the presence of your suitor
On the beach in Malibu
Where he held your face in his hands
Words like a caress
We share a common destiny

The photograph was the signal
You had to go to London
The timing was crucial
Pre-selected
By the Universe
You had to comply

December 13, 1993
You remember it well
Your passport was renewed
With moments to spare
A miracle that you got on the plane
With the infected eye
An ominous sign of disaster

You struggled to make that
That Virgin Airline flight
The hands of your destiny clock
Rapidly ticking
Like a time bomb
Detained by an Israeli security guard
There is something about you, he said
Narrowing his gaze

Such was the energy
Propelling you to London
On that fated day

What is she doing?
A knock
Can I go in there with you?
No, you reply with a shake of the head
A flash from a camera

You rush Nick through
The British Museum
Not stopping your quest
Until reaching the oldest gallery
The Mesopotamian Room
With the clay cuneiform tablets
In display cases
You travel back in time
To the origins of writing

There you stood in awe
Caressing the image of Inanna
In your good eye
Holding her symbol of the Reed
The plant that grows
In the intermediate realm
Between conscious (land) and unconscious (river)

That pregnant moment
Interrupted
By a loud ringing
Doors to the gallery swing shut
Leaving you and your suitor
Alone among the ancient relics
A bomb scare, he says

And so
This is the bomb you arrived in London to defuse!
The guardians protecting knowledge
Of the empowered Venus
Self proclaimed Queen of Heaven & Earth!

You had to leave Los Angeles
First the riots
Then the fires
The ashes still warm
When you crossed a boundary
To tour the ravaged hills of Malibu
Delivered sweets to a woman
Mourning over the loss of her English garden
Lovingly attended over 20 years
Dead
She never recovered from the loss

A knock on the window
Another camera pointed at your face
You aren’t used to smiling
When you write
But you do for the camera

After your Narcissus bloomed
On the Spring Equinox
Running to Sedona
After hearing Peter Gabriel’s command
Jump into the water
As the washing machine overflowed

In the desert
You met a woman
Who had Peter Gabriel
In her backpack

The entire body of work
You listened to as you drove
Through the labyrinth
To the sacred sites
Body blown by forces
You had not the strength, the stability
To contain

And so
You bought another Virgin Airlines ticket
Slick patent leather
Trench coat placed on
Your shoulders by a friend

There, she said, now you
Will intimidate them!
Our other friend,
Who bought you
The Chanel lipstick
Coco Red
Bought by another friend

In London they thought you were
A high-class hooker
Trying to convert you to Jesus
In the Underground
Asking how much you charge
On the street

But you were in England
On a wedding march
Or so you thought

Nick took you through the rituals
Of the Sacred Marriage
The visit to the village
May Day ceremony
To witness the crowning
Of King and Queen
Around the Maypole

The visit to the castle
To have tea
With the husband
Of Princess Diana’s astrologer

The cleansing baths
In his antique bathtub
With feet

Now, sitting in your own tub
The Iron Maiden
Vibrating to the sound
Of death and rebirth
The Passion pouring through your computer
Moving the kundalini through the chakras

You realize what you were doing in London
In that get up
You were acting out the Magdalene
Experiencing first hand what it feels like to have the Goddess given power
Denied

Prospective bride
Punished
For running off to the high desert
To discover a secret
The occult ancestry
Of the groom
Hidden

Along with his magician’s craft
As he sought
The key to fertility
Yet repressed
Woman
Keeper of the secret of fertility

The prospective bride
Not yet returned
From exile

The fated encounter
Progressing
To the inevitable conclusion
Tossed out in the cold

The only shelter a red phone booth
With the crown over the door
Another sign of the Sacred Marriage
Which wasn’t meant to be

As you stood and watched
The lights go on
And then go out
Inside his Hampstead townhouse
As the phone rang and rang
In your ear

Gathering your slick trench
Around you
In the cold of the spring night
What other conclusion could you draw?
Only the most obvious

There is no place in this world for the
Empowered woman
In the 20th century
What else could you do

But retreat from the battleground
Return to your childhood home
As the century ran its course
To work out a solution

But first you returned to Bath
Where you got caught up in another myth
The return of Venus

A procession to the Cross Bath
Pagan figures with matted hair
Raising torches and candles
An offer of a flame
An invitation
To participate
In a mythical unfolding

Winding through town
To a Georgian building
With a serpentine east fa├žade
The origin of the Cross Bath

The foundation of the city
And entrance to the Otherworld
Place of communion with the Earth Mother Goddess
Sulia, a Welsh name meaning
An opening, gap, eye or orifice

Within the gap between worlds
The observer transforms into participant
You sign the petition to restore the spring

The procession continues
A fellow in a shirt proclaiming
Save Solsbury Hill
They are building a new Euoroute, he says
Costing 75 million pounds

A boy hands you a map
Tracing the Euroroute with his finger
It runs beside the train tracks
That is right, he says
They are destroying a sacred site
Solsbury Hill

Solsbury Hill? Isn’t that from a Peter Gabriel song?
The hill existed before the song.
You can see the city lights. That is Bath?

You are in rhythm with the Durgas
Warriors of the Earth Goddess
Protectors of her sacred sites

You lived with the Earth people in America
The Native Americans
And now, these are the Earth people of Europe
In dreadlocks
Baggy linen trousers held up with a rope
Torn woolen jumper

Eight hundred sacred sites
Ruined by technology, you are told
The collective lament
Roads are for connections
They used to bring people together
Now they divide

You travel with the Durgas
To their camp
In a cow pasture
They invite you to spend the night
You decline but agree to attend
The pagan wedding ceremony
On the hill top the next day

It is drizzling in the morning
You arrive at the base of the hill
Torn up by the man made machines
It is a dramatic site

Children climb the bulldozers
And are flung to the ground
The engines roar
Over the wailing mothers

A graffiti message scrawled
On the trailer proclaiming
A menace that started small
Grown into a monster
Threatening to destroy the whole town

A fire at the center
Of an encampment
And there you meet Tinkerbelle
A fierce beauty

In a ragged peacoat
Golden dreadlocks
Matted by mud
You are the scribe, she tells you
You are writing the myth

Armed by this information
You long for perspective
And forge onward and upward

Wandering through
Fields of violet and buttercups
You reach barbed wire
Refusing to be daunted by a physical boundary
You climb the fence
Tearing the designer trench

The embattled warrior
Armor ravaged by the tension
Of warring archetypes
Projecting onto your mirrored surface

Suppressing your dark thoughts
You cast your gaze to your journey
Solsbury Hill above you
Majestic and proud
Oblivious to the war
Raged at her foot

You arrive at the top
Flattened in the Iron Age
When the breasts were removed
From the Earth Goddess
To make her into an Amazon

You find the shrine
A medicine wheel
Beside a white flag
Waving a simple message

Surrender
Venus appears on the horizon
Filling you with a
Serenity
You hadn’t experienced
Since the sweat lodge

An inner union
Magician & priestess
Engaged in the Conjuntio
An inner experience

At odds with
Your image
The femme fatale
Lent to you by female friends
Glossy black trench with its golden buttons
Chanel lipstick
The combat boots were your own
By the way

The next day, you amble
Through the village
Entering a shop
Where you showed them
The torn coat
They laughed out loud
And you had to join them in mirth

Where could you go now?
With your image in tatters?

Sipping cider
At a bar
You hear
Solsbury Hill
Son, we are going to take you home
And you knew precisely where
You had to go
Home

There was one more sign
In America
On the marquee of the Beacon Theater
Reads Peter Gabriel: Witness

It took thirteen years of bearing witness
While developing a form
That delivered you here in the Iron Maiden
Thirteen years for the artifacts of your mystical ride in England to
Resurrect

When you returned to New York
Taking a stroll up Broadway
There you saw it
The message
The Beacon Theater
Peter Gabriel: Witness

And so, you created
The Roadmap
Through the Labyrinth
to Real World

And truly, the story is quite funny
That is what your teacher wrote
On Exercise # 5
At a Columbia Writing Intensive
Where you attempted to pick up the wreckage
The Sacred Marriage
If not in love
Than at least on paper



And here they end up
Surrounding you in the gallery
A return to that early vision of
The Conjuctio

A knock on the window
Another camera
Two
You aren’t used to smiling
When you are writing

You considered last night
During the ritual
What would have happened
If you remained in that
Mystical world swirling around you
The wounded male spirit in his townhouse
Dripping blood from the penis

Nick who promised to remove
You from the Hall of Mirrors
And placed you even deeper
Into the myth

Now, 13 years later
You are finally grounded
Enough to return there
The land where the Goddess
Is remembered

From the Native American sweat lodge
To the Cross Bath
A cry for Her resurrection
The cry for her sacred spaces
To be preserved
And what was your role
In this passion play

Tinkerbelle told you
Scribe
So you returned to the hearth
The house where you were raised
And began to write
You wrote nonstop
For fourteen years

A virtual hill of writing
About the Goddess
A stream of energy
That could not be stopped
Only controlled
Poured into the alphabet
The alphabet transformed into images
Streaked with your menstrual blood
Your passion
Flowing with the Moon

This was the gift of the Goddess to humanity
It liberated you
Perhaps it can do the same for others

Blood
There is no ritual in the world
Without it

Eating blood sausages
Under an eclipse
Sipping the blood of Christ
In a Rioja

Men gashing their limbs at Sun Dance
Lilith runs off
To the Red Sea
Sleeping Beauty has her finger pricked
Before waking
And AIDS
The horror of death through sex

Blood
There is no ritual in the world
Without it
Purified, it gives life
Tainted, it kills

Your blood
The Passion
Transforming words
Into Sacred Matter
The Great Work
To be completed
At the Fall Equinox

The rest is up to the Universe



THE LAB GALLERY IN THE ROGER SMITH HOTEL PRESENT ALCHEMY OF LOVE: III AIR (SUBLUMIATIO), SEPT 23 - 30