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Well it’s so close to afternoon I thought I’d go ahead and acknowledge my procrastination. But is it procrastinating if one is busy doing other things? It’s been almost 6 years since I had this site up and working daily, and then fear snuck in and I heeded its call.


I was in a Bikram yoga class and a woman quoted me. She looked into my eyes and with a sparkle she said, “..yada yada..wom wom wah..ta da!” and I freaked. I was no longer anonymous. I spent years in Hollywood trying not to be seen. I put up a website so I could whisper my truths. Last night I even had a dream about my fear of being discovered. What’s that about?


Yeah, I know that great quote about our greatest fear isn’t not getting to be our wonderful self, but it’s actually succeeding in being that successful self. (Gee worst job of paraphrasing ever:) Translation – we are afraid of success!


And my problem is exasperated by the fact that I really could give a rat’s ass if someone is successful if I don’t like him or her anyway. Who cares who we are, or what we become, or whatever if the heart is not present for the interaction. Come on, who cares about our President or the latest sport hero or movie star anyway? We lost respect for titles and names when they lost respect for what the title description entailed.


My heroes are those that can be present throughout the day and enjoy it, without judging it or manipulating it or abusing it in any way. See my hero wouldn’t even put specifications on their hero. They’d simply say, “I like that guy/girl/human/animal being.”


So please have patience with my latest attempt at being present with you. Say a prayer for me that I learn how to apply the audio only tab and Paypal donations button and a way to have a video of the solar system floating before your eyes.


I love looking at the stars, the firmament kind. Wanna take a walk tonight? I’ll meet you in the center of the cup in the big dipper, okay? Okay.


See you soon!




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How come the only Angels people talk about are Archangels? To me that is such a human response. Just because we need a ruler to measure everything doesn’t mean the rest of the universe uses such archaic tactics.


Archangels aren’t better than, let’s say fairies, or our beloveds—which are normally dogs and cats. Now please don’t get me wrong I love, love, love the Archangels. I call on Michael and Uriel’s help all day long. I could make a rap to how often I call them, Angel Mike – cut the cord! Uriel’s my angel to cure discord! Kill the past, my angel Mike! So peace prevails, with Uriel’s sight!


Okay, I didn’t say I was in the same caliber as Angel Tupac but I just want you all to know we talk. I’m on good grounds and skies with my Archangels. It’s just that it’s my personal, day-to-day, 24-7 guardian angel that is here with me all the time. She/He is my true mother. But I will call on Mother Mary or Yeshua, or Master Metatron or St. Germain or all of the Nine Choirs for that matter before I talk to the only one who really understands how I got into the situation I am in.


How do you think that makes my Guardian Angel feel? What if you called your kindergarten teacher every time you needed advice instead of your own mother? How would that make mom feel? See! We all have been assigned our own special angel to get us through this rock compound called earth. Use them! Call on your spirit guide and talk to them about what you need!


Okay, okay I hear you. You don’t even believe in God yet a god-assigned angel. Is that right? Well how else will you find out if they exist or not if you don’t call on or talk to or demand they show themselves to you? That’s like not believing there is an Australia. You would do some research, right? Australia is clearly there, down under or up above depending on the direction you are looking!


Open your eyes and grab your angel or imaginary friend’s hand and create the world in your own image! Come on folks. Believe again! Because if you don’t someone else’s vision will be creating you. So take a walk and talk to your Guardian Angel and ask them for their assistance. They would love to hear from you!


With all their love!

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Good morning.


I have wonderful organic coffee beans in the kitchen and my favorite glass jar filled with nuts sitting right by a bowl of pears and Fuji apples. And they are all waiting for a topping of blueberries but I can’t get out of bed because I’m amazed that I after all these years, lint still gets caught in my belly button. And I remember why. My wonderfully vain mom had this trick to make all her children’s navels go inward.


When we were born my mother pushed the tummy cord stump in. Afterward she rubbed some antibiotic cream over it and then taped a quarter on top of it all. I suppose she added some gauze since none of us got an infection from the used coin. When it healed that quarter went into our own personal piggy bank and the lessons on saving and how to look good on a quarter began.My mother was a genius at looking rich especially when she was broke.


She made sure our heads were perfectly shaped too. She massaged each kid’s head when they were born into a perfect oval shape in case we ever decided to go bald as a fashion statement. But none of her excellent teachings worked on me. I simply let my hair do as it pleased and shoved things into my belly button because it felt good. I would shove lilac flowers, (which only bloom for a few weeks out of the year,) into my navel and mash them up and add water to make perfume. I loved playing. Heck the only time I was concerned about grass getting too long was when it got too stringy to make whistles. I miss childhood!


It worries me that no one notices the cycle of innocence is being taken away from the children on earth. Kids know too much sorrow too early these days. They don’t get to explore in fields or be a horse or better yet a unicorn if they wish. Their cartoons are so mean spirited and adult. Its like they are yelling at them to grow up right now and be a bad ass before someone whips their ass. Yikes!


I play with kids all the time. After the parent realizes I’m not going to molest their children they get into the swing of it too. I have learned that “Boo” and “Why did the chicken cross the road?” doesn’t work anymore so I start with “If you had a special power what would it be” Once a kid told me it would be that whatever he thought, comes true. Man, brilliant, eh? It sorta takes care of everything in one fell swoop. And I tell him that. Then I watch him smile. Now he thinks I’m brilliant too because no one had ever noticed how brilliant he was before.


So we get to talking. I simply love this boy. Even his father stops being cynical and hesitates putting words in his son’s mouth and listens for a minute. And in a split second we are all playing What would we do if we could do it. And we start doing it! The boy starts believing in his power and his father starts nurturing and I am laughing and his mom is picking out exactly what she wishes in the store without defending it to anyone and then we all hug and go our own special, super-powered ways into the day.


I may not get out of bed this morning at all. I may stay here and imagine all sorts of great scenarios. I already made a finger puppet out of my pillowcase and it’s trying to dive down into my belly to get that prized lint. Geez I even love the jiggle my tummy makes when Serina Miqueena is escaping the morning breath monster. But blueberries and Fuji apples covered in nuts are in the kitchen calling my name. “Karmichange, come and get it. I won’t make another fold in your tummy. I promise,” says the blueberries. But the ice cream is laughing because it knows I will grab it first and we will play with the anise star and cardamom and make a spicy tea game of a Bollywood movie to watch and taste and …


Wow! It’s time to get up!

Good morning!


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Okay I know I have some years on me. I am not new. I’ve seen the world go from 33RPM’s to MPG 4, from mono to digital, from leaded to electric, from stores being closed on Sundays to being open 24 hrs a day… And now I’m at the end of another year taking emotional inventory.


I still smoke 2 cigarettes a day. I still have the occasional coffee. I still rebel against all organized institutions, and I still fight those that use military paradigms. (Yes-even Hollywood has a 1st and 2nd and directors and generals and chiefs…) I still hate pornography and the inanity of gender roles. I still long for foreplay and a romantic film that does not have comedy at the end of it. I still want to apologize to my dead mother.


I still over spend on stuff I don’t need. I still care about what others think—no I don’t:) I still wish I were 15 pounds lighter. I still don’t floss after every meal. And I still don’t drink enough water. Why is that? Why do we still do things we know we should not do? I’m not talking about addiction here, that is something else and completely different. I’m talking about those things we know would make life easier but we still don’t do them.


Is it simply procrastination? I don’t think so. I’ve outlived most average life expectancies for most countries and I still haven’t gotten to flossing after every meal and all that takes is string! Also those people that do what their supposed to do, make me go numb.Those perfect idiots who don’t eat carbs or drink beer or talk loudly or drive vintage vehicles or, you know them. But I digress. I’m looking for a scapegoat right now. Why won’t I simply drink more water? Am I a risk taker? Yeah, but intelligently and instinctively risky. I’ll go to Europe with 300 bucks in my pocket and stay 3 years, no problem. But drink my weight in water ounces—nooooo. That’s too hard. What is that about?


I don’t know. Maybe it’s solely to teach me patience. I need more patience with myself. I am older than I have ever been and will mark it by another year soon and all I have to say about all those years is, “I have to have more patience with myself.”


Okay, that’s it. This is a new one year of beginnings, thus all things are possible. So with love for you and me from myself, here’s wishing us all another wonderful year of growth and love.


Happy Year of the Rooster!


PS As you know I am in the process of restoring this site. As you also know time is not linear. And as you’ve probably guessed some of these blogs were written earlier for later posting. Thus until I get my multi-dimensional self in line with whatever alignment there is, please have patience with me. I know! I’m learning to do that too:)


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Hi my favorite humans I’m back! Where do I start? Not by recapping the last eight years, that is a novel not a blog—maybe by thinking of someone else. Yes. So how the heavens are YOU! I know. I know. But how are you other than the farce of our past election?(Yeah right, that choice between adulterated ambition and pure snake charmer— but leave it, too much has already been said.


 Yes, how are you doing in these days of gentle genocide? (I’m sorry that just slipped out and you already know about GMO’s and our corrupt Health Care system and the government building concentration camps in Utah and mutating marijuana until it becomes an opiate…) I mean how is life treating you? Are you happy? Are you coming down off the senseless propaganda flowing on the airwaves? No matter how heroic the death it’s still murder. Okay that’s another blog altogether!


Okay I understand what happened now. I woke up after a screening of the 13th doc, (it’s well done by the way,) and went to my favorite naturally organic grocery store. I had a taste for a cup of coffee. I hadn’t had coffee in a few months but I wanted to get some posts together and nothing says bloggin’ like a cup of joe so… Anyway, the thought of caffeine led to chocolate, which led to nuts, which led to crackers which led to jam, and I saw this all happening as the Register Lady was scanning my stuff. So I began apologizing. I told her I simply woke up craving drugs this morning and the ‘eine led to glucose…yada, yada and burp belch. And the sanctimonious register girl gave me a look and said, “Well at least you see it. Caffeine is like heroin.”


As I walked home with my backpack of legal substances I thought of all the things I could have said to her. “Thank you but even though you are right I am still going to enjoy this cup of coffee.” Or, “Well it’ll make me happy and that will eliminate any toxic effects it may have.” Or, “I’m smiling b#*&h and you are self-righteously miserable with your knowledge!” So I came home and made myself a cup of coffee and started writing this blog that looks like the face of the woman I described in the store.


So my favorite Humans, don’t do like I did, do what your heart directs and use your free will. Never give it over to anyone. You can love and obey and honor and grow and be disciplined within the boundaries of your self-defined world of magical wonder. Meaning, you know what’s best for you! And we are not hurting anyone. And we aren’t densely daft either, we know ALL LIFE MATTERS ~ Especially those dark seeds that originated from Lucy’s bosom – pure God matter that is.


So I take this cup of coffee and I toast you with blackberry jam! For we are that we are—the same DNA as the Creator! So every body lighten-the-sun-up and I mean that literally. Spread those molecules and take in as much light as you can!

Wow, I see you glowin’ now. *!^+*…!!!

I love you my little Glowworms!


PS *I promise I won’t drink before tomorrow’s blog.