Numinous Berkshire downs, yearlings graze, bluebird cruises.. fuel queues foolishly endorse frankly maude’s madness.. no panic, earthlings .. we still have feet, just have to remember how to use them – and make politicians walk
Settings goes off piste. Tiny catches mackerel. . Yoyo Amore and Sweet Bean plan wedding, Juggler moves out. It’s Spring … black dog sleeps in sun…spyche has no clothes
What a week in spyche’s world – UK broadcasting ‘gets’ the unconscious on radio and television. Horizon evidences Jung’s concept of the collective (unx) by wiring up ants but, best of all, lying on the One to One bar at Apple is Jungian Analysis (ed Murray Stein). Rock on! we unwired ants are on the move
Green shoots on dead branches. 100th anniversary of he who died as quietly and easily as he lived, no Stalin exit for spyche’s Dad and s/he no Svetlana, either.. time for new underwear, magical Lancome – re-generation of embodied history..
Foto and I sniff out truth over a latte … what is it that haunts the memory, lingers like music on the breeze? sweetness of the skin – individual, unrepeatable …did we lose for love?.. the scent of memory had a body.. Foto couldn’t capture it, ‘.. must be Mum’ ( hat’s off andre green) .. we laughed – truth was it was an other, whatever..
If we follow the line, do we actually go round in circles? If right is defined by wrong, up by down, day by night, opposites define our perceptions; therefore in knowing, we know nothing..