Goldie

lili_elbe_by_gerda_wegener-lg

The Never-Ending Goldie

 

Goldie Locks lived in a trailer

She played doodle bugs in the dirt

She made mud houses for frogs with her foot

 

Things seem big when you are small

She likes small, cozy places

She remembers being so small her mother bathed her in the sink

 

Goldie Locks was quite precocious from the get go

At “The Little Red Schoolhouse” she punched a boy in the nose

She daydreamed in school

As she got older

She dreamed of escape

Escape from the South and that place

Called Minden, where people had nothing better to do

Than gossip

 

Eventually she did escape and her odyssey began

Just follow the Yellow brick road . . .

Discothèques, Dancing, Drugs

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

Wandering aimlessly

A knight appears, and says,

“California is the place you aughta be”

 

Now Goldie goes to school

The Theater Darling (Puff, puff)

Acting, Singing and Dancing

This must be Emerald City U

Golddigers, Munchkins & Mimes

Oh My!

But wait . . . There’s More!

“This is Orange County” says Goldie

“Where is Hollywood?”

 

The Hills are alive~

“There is that magical sign.”

The big, bad wolf says,

“So you wanna be in pictures”

As he twirls his sinister mustache

“Yes please” says Goldie

“Tell me I am the Girl!”

“Sure . . .”

Slick cons, dumb girls

Good Times!

 

Being a bohemian

Oingo Bongo

Melrose Boulevard

WACKO
Koala Blue

David O

And The Plimsouls

Malibu

The Valley Boys

Hot surfers

Underground Clubs

And Movie Stars. . .

 

See Me on IMBD

Just one credit

 

Super Clubs & Trendy Bistros

And swanky food service

“Hi. I am Goldie and I am going to be your server tonight.

Can I get you a drink from the bar?”

 

The Hindu temple

The Alien Church

Baby Buddha

Great friends

Film school

How to summate a life so full

 

Selling front row seat to the Laker’s

The concerts

The Super Bowl

 

Friends die

The economy crashes

After

The

Planes

Do

 

Jobs go

People go

Things are stale ______

 

You are invited to join AARP

Lost

Sad

“Should I stay? Or should I go?”

Divinely guided to GO!

Leave

Move on~

 

Goldie has a sister

The sister got her Masters

Goldie was inspired

 

A brief respite in the distant past

Louisiana

Shrimp

Drive through frozen cocktails

Lots of Baptist

 

Back to school

First a GED

 

Move again

“Go West Old Goldie!”

She packed the U-Haul

And head to “The Valley of the Sun”

Goldie is now a Sun Devil~

 

Life changes

When you let it~

Graduation happens

May, 7, 2018

 

Sindy Simms

2017

 

Painting

Lili Elbe

by

Gerda Wegener

Got Gothic

Jasmine Becket Griffith

Strangling

The art of

Jasmine Becket-Griffith

Hey everyone. In America we had “President’s Day” yesterday, a National Holiday celebrating Washington, and Lincoln’s birthdays. Anyways fortunately I got the day off school, so I could do all the homework due on my British Literature 8 week online course on the Romantic Era, primarily, Mary Wollstonecraft (Preeminent Feminist), Jane Austen, and Mary’s daughter, Mary Shelley. Doesn’t everyone love Frankenstein, one of the best novels of that genre, and period.

I love the story behind the story. In a later edition Mary Shelley, at her publishers request answers the question, “How I, then a young girl, came to think of, and to dilate upon, so very hideous an idea?”

I will share a few excerpts, but if your interested read the entire story at the link.

~~~

In the summer of 1816, we visited Switzerland, and became the neighbours of Lord Byron. At first we spent our pleasant hours on the lake, or wandering on its shores; and Lord Byron, who was writing the third canto of Childe Harold, was the only one among us who put his thoughts upon paper. These, as he brought them successively to us, clothed in all the light and harmony of poetry, seemed to stamp as divine the glories of heaven and earth, whose influences we partook with him.

. . . But it proved a wet, ungenial summer, and incessant rain often confined us for days to the house.Some volumes of ghost stories, translated from the German into French, fell into our hands. There was the History of the Inconstant Lover, who, when he thought to clasp the bride to whom he had pledged his vows, found himself in the arms of the pale ghost of her whom he had deserted. . . 

“We will each write a ghost story,” said Lord Byron; and his proposition was acceded to. There were four of us. The noble author began a tale, a fragment of which he printed at the end of his poem of Mazeppa. Shelley, more apt to embody ideas and sentiments in the radiance of brilliant imagery, commenced one founded on the experiences of his early life. . . 

I busied myself to think of a story, —a story to rival those which had excited us to this task. One which would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature, and awaken thrilling horror—one to make the reader dread to look round, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the heart. If I did not accomplish these things, my ghost story would be unworthy of its name. I thought and pondered—vainly. I felt that blank incapability of invention which is the greatest misery of authorship, when dull Nothing replies to our anxious invocations. Have you thought of a story? I was asked each morning, and each morning I was forced to reply with a mortifying negative. . .

Many and long were the conversations between Lord Byron and Shelley, to which I was a devout but nearly silent listener. During one of these, various philosophical doctrines were discussed, and among others the nature of the principle of life, and whether there was any probability of its ever being discovered and communicated. They talked of the experiments of Dr. Darwin. . .

Night waned upon this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by, before we retired to rest. When I placed my head on my pillow, I did not sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden, possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I saw—with shut eyes, but acute mental vision, —I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world. His success would terrify the artist; he would rush away from his odious handywork, horror-stricken. . .

I opened mine in terror. The idea so possessed my mind, that a thrill of fear ran through me, and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of my fancy for the realities around. I see them still; the very room, the dark parquet, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling through, and the sense I had that the glassy lake and white high Alps were beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom; still it haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred to my ghost story, my tiresome unlucky ghost story! O! if I could only contrive one which would frighten my reader as I myself had been frightened that night!

~~~~

This piece of writing about the backstory, and Frankenstein’s conception is brilliant. I was talking with my good friend, owner of a renowned cat, hint; Not Grumpy Cat, about a movie made of this, Haunted Summer (1988). I haven’t seen it in 20 years but I recall liking it.

Year Of the Scribe

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Get Lucky

Happy, Blessed, and Joyous, New Year everyone. I heard this message, and loved it. It is brought forth by the messenger, Magenta Pixie. I painstakingly transposed the message here below, but I will also link the video if you prefer listening to her charming voice, and accent. I like what I hear, and it applies to us all, The Year of the Scribe, and Artist. I am Up With That! Enjoy, and much love. Be safe and well all!

Frequencies for the New Year Gateway 2016

The White-winged Collective Consciousness of Nine

via the Magenta Pixie

As you come to the end of your year of 2015 and you move into a new year of 2016 you passed through a gate where the ending of something and the simultaneous beginning of something new is always a transition a death/rebirth energetic. You passed through many gateways within your accommodation most notably your solar return. That which you know as your birthday. On an individual level the birthday is the most powerful gateway for you, even more so if you are consciously awakened and aware. On a global level gateways present geometric frequencies, astrological alignments, and other moments of focused attention, yet the most significant death rebirth transition when it comes to time, is the end of one cycle, and the simultaneous beginning of another cycle. Your New Year moment is one such significant transition. These transitional gateways are the most aligned time for the personal death rebirth transition to take place. The leaving behind of the old, the unwanted, that which no longer serves, and aligns, and the embracing of the new, the desired, and that which does serve and align.

This knowing of the death rebirth transitional moment is hardwired into your DNA, if you will, and those who do not yet stand as conscious, aware lightworkers still hold activated knowing of these transitions. Although this will be knowing at the most basic level, it is still a conscious awareness. The conscious and aware lightworkers see the multi leveled, multi-dimensional aspects of these transitions. They process the meaning of these transitions and they are aware of how to behave, how to think, and how to feel, and what to do what action to take during these transitions. They are aware of the power of focused intention. rather than resolution, wish, or desire. For wish, and desire often remain unfilled within the realm of the unmanifest, and whilst resolution when coupled with determination is one step closer to manifestation, it is the focused intention that holds a direct line to manifestation. The death rebirth transitional moments are most aligned with focused intention and manifestation. The time of the new year holds much focused attention creating the landing pad, or the perfect match if you will, for focused intention. Ritualizing your intentions in whichever way you personally work magically is the most aligned way for you, for when you hold conscious aware knowing of this transitional moment you naturally move into that energy of focused intention leading to manifestation. You become part of that rebirth matrix of the new year, for you hold far more mass (?) within your own focused attention than those who still sleep. For it is you know where humanity to create these moments of transition and rebirth. If you are not yet familiar with, or practiced with focused intention and manifestation, then using the power of the word is a post aligned tool at this time, especially as you move into your year of 2016 a year we could call, The Year of the Scribe, for creativity coming into fruition is very much the order of the day for 2016, especially for those who hold the “archetype of the scribe,” and the “archetype of the artist.” So writing your intentions holds much power, and magic at this time. Writing your intentions holds power, and magic at all times, especially at the time of the moving through this gateway into 2016, and if you are more inclined towards the “artist eye, the archetype artist, then drawing, painting, or digitally creating through image, creating your intention, is most aligned. The list, the poem, the story, or the vision board will all hold strong as powerful tools for focused intention, and manifestation. Yet also the tool of the magical altar is most aligned, the gathering together of the metaphors that formed in matter that match the intentions you hold. Your own personal metaphors that formed in matter, that match your belief system, or your own personal creations. When they are placed together with a magical placement ready for the midnight bridge upon New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Eve becomes the New Year’s Day, the midnight moment, the midnight bridge is a convergence point. A convergence point of two cycles of time, two sections of time that overlap together to form a Vesica Pisces geometry, a very powerful geometry that can be utilized for your magical intention. The magical altar at that time of convergence shall be fired with light placed upon it. Be sure of your intentions here when using physical objects in this way. With focused intention and magical creation this tool is most powerful, but can manifest in unexpected ways, example the toy car could manifest as a child, rather than a new car. So be clear with your intention and specific with the placement of objects. Feathers, crystals, gems, stones, and other talismans, are most helpful here. Adding the list, the poem, the story, or the vision board to the magical altar can also assist greatly in the directional access of your focused intention, manifesting in alignment with your original intention, and in alignment with your highest desire. So whilst we could be your year 2016, as the year of the scribe, the year of the artists in alignment with this we could also refer to your year 2016 as the year of the crystal activations, the year of gold, or the golden year. For 2016 is set to bring creation to fruition for many. 2016 the year that yet more of that veil is lifted, the year of disclosure, truth seen clearly, nothing hidden, yet in alignment with the writers, and artists, coming forth into the light, as their creations move into fruition. For it is the author’s, poets, painters, digital art creator’s, musician’s, filmmakers, actors, and technical writers that lifts that veil. Disclosure comes not just in the form of the whistleblower who tells all but comes forward in the form of the activated one holding knowing. 2016 is the time for not knowing to be shared exponentially. The books, blogs, writings, novels, poems, paintings, and electronic media hold the information you seek, and when you find what you are seeking, the information becomes the activation, and when the activation is processed and understood, then you become the deliverer of knowledge, the presenter of information, and the conduit of light. You write the book! You paint the painting!  2016 holds much of this information sharing activation, creation, and activity. 2016 is the year of the crystal activation, raising and frequency around March, and culminating in June. All crystals upon your planet beam with this inner light, the photonic light from the Galactic is directed upon every crystal and very crystal moves into transformation alchemy. 2016 is the year of gold, alchemy transformation, the metamorphosis from one thing into another, non activated into activated, stone into crystal, heaviness into light, metal into gold. 2016 the golden year the fullest expression of the Golden Age thus far, due to the conscious creativity within the scribe, artists, and other archetypal creators, such as musicians. The activations of the crystals will be known by those who share their space, and many conscious lightworkers will draw powerful crystal tools into their reality for the first time, crystal wands, crystal animals, jewelry, and indeed the crystal skulls. For the Crystal Skull matrix becomes more accessible within your year 2016, as the crystalline beings move into your consciousness. These are beings of Crystal Light, gracing you with their presence, and bowing in honor to you, and all for you as you allow yourself to be their messengers. Are we saying new conduits of light will come forward? Indeed, we are. Henceforth 2016 is The year of the Scribe, as you write down your communications with these crystalline beings. And the crystals within you, within your DNA, shall activate yet more, and the crystal light body is created, culminating in June 2016. Indeed 2016 is the year of the crystal activations. If the crystal activations, and the heightened creations from the scribe, and the artists, resonates deep within you, then we say to you, place this upon your magical altar, write this upon your list, draw this upon your drawing, find the image within your digital world, and place this upon your digital vision board, or digital altar. For you shall harness this energy, you shall direct this energy naturally when the light of awareness flows through you. Focused attention, and intention, simply direct that flow of light and conduct the electromagnetic frequency needed for the manifestation of your highest desire, which is in alignment with your higher self, that which is for your highest good throughout the quantum field. May you move through this transitional New Year Gateway with joy, and ease, may you embrace creativity, magic crystalline activations, and the golden frequency within your year of 2016.

We are the White-winged Collective Consciousness of Nine

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Let’s Go Retro

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 Perry Como

 In honor of Mercury Retrograde, May 18 – June 11, let’s go retro. It is my first week off school, and I am looking forward to some blogging fun this summer. I propose a Retro Blogging Challenge ~ Prompt is “Retro,” so you can reuse, reblog and oldie but goody, and link me, or discuss a retro topic, its a wide open theme. I am not going to set dates, lets do it until June 11. Let’s Rock this Mercury Retrograde and make it work for us. Reassess, reevaluate, redecorate, reorganize, redistribute, reassign, rediscover……..

(Oh and I will add all links on my blog, so my readers will see you.)

Let’s Go Retro Challenge

Contributors

 litebeing chronicles

Eyes Of Odysseus

Soul Fields

Fiesta Estrellas

Sophia’s Children

Not Just Sassy on the Inside

Me, My Magnificent Self

Not Just Sassy on the Inside (II)

The Seeker’s Dungeon

Dreamwalker’s Sanctuary

Through the Peacock’s Eyes

The Dream Well

Walking My Path

Sammi Cox

I would love your contribution

😀

I am going to rediscover, my Qigong practice. I am going to a Qigong Meetup on Wednesday. I am so excited to rededicate myself to a daily Qigong practice. I love you all. Please join me.

Namaste

Sindy

Mandala’s

Visual Alchemy 

Let’s Talk Ovid

EchoNarcissusWaterhouseEchoNarcissusWaterhouseEchoNarcissusWaterhouse

 White Teeth Teens

So…… It’s mass essay writing time folks, and I have gathered here, as my blog friends some of the brightest, and well read minds. That’s right, you guys. (Insert big cheesy grin) No, but really I would love some feedback. I am using my ENH 251, Mythology class as an Honors class and I selected to do my Honors essay on Ovid’s, Metamorphoses. There are just so many directions one could go on this. So. . .thoughts?

The Implications on Psychology, Influence on Popular Culture, Feminist, Historical??? Any ideas, any at all?

I haven’t even finished it but just throwing it out there. He is moving onto Dante next week, so… but I am going to put my focus here, although I need Inferno too. lol Then yes… there are more essays. It’s like Essay Season.

Narcissus

   Fool, why try to catch a fleeting image, in vain? What you search for is nowhere: turning away, what you love is lost! What you perceive is the shadow of reflected form: nothing of you is in it. It comes and stays with you, and leaves with you, if you can leave! …………………………………..

He spoke, and returned madly to the same reflection, and his tears stirred the water, and the image became obscured in the rippling pool. As he saw it vanishing, he cried out ‘ Where do you fly to?  Stay, cruel one, do not abandon one who loves you! I am allowed to gaze at what I cannot touch, and so provide food for my miserable passion!’ While he weeps, he tears at the top of his clothes: then strikes his naked chest with hands of marble. His chest flushes red when they strike it, as apples are often pale in part, part red, or as grapes in their different bunches are stained with purple when they are not yet ripe.

Book 3, Ovid’s, Metamorphoses

All is well

~Namaste~

Love yall

“Echo and Narcissus”

John William Waterhouse

Oh here is the link to my Academia.edu page.

Chyrsalis

monarch-butterfly-scott-rolfe

 

The grass and earth is cool beneath her, a shadow passed over her closed eyelids. This mound in the meadow was a favorite spring spot for Lucy to lay and escape the boredom of her small town existence. In the grass she explored the ruins of the Scottish moors, or pondered the life of a Roman soldier in Britain. Mr. Mink her high school history teacher filled her mind with ancient curiosities. The clear sky had developed some puffy clouds and their passing had caused Lucy to open her eyes. Just at this very moment a monarch of the most vivid orange alights on the tip of her nose. She dare not blink, staring cross eyed at the creature who seemed to be staring at her. The butterfly just flapped its wings but did not move even when she finally had to blink. From her peripheral vision Lucy sees two more monarchs hovering, one on either side. She finds this somehow odd and disturbing so she lets loose a puff of air from her lips. The monarch arises from her nose but only hoovers a foot above still flanked by two others.

Lucy loved butterflies and this was one reason she choose this mound to dream, the wild flowers. Still the three monarch hover in formation above her. Each flap of their wings, each beat of her heart in perfect synchronicity, her eyes open and close in unison. Flap, flap, flap…….

Lucy awakens to darkness, realizing that she must have fallen asleep she sits up and rubs her eyes. “The stars look different somehow” she thinks as she cast her gaze to the woods below the mound. A strange noise startles her from the wood, a sound she has never heard before.  Paralyzed she remains still like a deer caught in the headlights of Uncle Bubs truck. “Where is Uncle Bub and his shotgun when you need him” she said silently, still immobile and alert. A pair of eyes stare out from the darkness, and then another, and another. Suddenly a flap of wings is heard over heard and before she can look she is airborne, soaring toward the moon and dark forest. The wind is chill on her cheeks as she manages to look up she sees a flash of orange and remembers the monarchs, yet she is being held by hands. The hands release her and she is falling, falling toward the darkness. “I am dead! That’s it dead, not dreaming.” She falls and falls and lands gently with a bounce in tall yellow stocks of filaments, covered in a yellow powder she sneezes violently. “What is this?” she wonders, looking up through the filaments of a gigantic bloom. Whoosh, she feels air disturbed from the tremendous wings as they maneuver above her and perch on the edge of this dream, nightmare, experience, flower??? Sitting there black skin and green eyes an enormous being with monarch butterfly wings staring down at her. Lucy in her faded blue, floral print dress, and sneakers, her long dirty blond hair matted with grass from the meadow. This creature is looking at her quizzically, tilting its head from one side to the other, its arms wrapped around each other at the wrist its long dark fingers entwined. The eerie sound she heard on the mound repeats and the creature looks towards its origin, and quickly back to her, staring. The strange skies moon is bright but not round it is pear shaped, with a reddish hue. Now the noise becomes like a deafening hum coming from all directions. The creature jumps into the nest grabbing her face her shoves some strange berry into her mouth, she protest but it hold her mouth closed, so that she has no choice but to swallow it. She feels herself overcome and right before she goes completely unconscious, she sees the space above her full of creatures like this one. The moonlight is obscured with butterfly wings.

Death is beautiful, it is dark, it is quiet, it feels as if floating on a pond on a summer night. Death is so peaceful. Lucy thought to herself, “Why was I ever afraid to die? This is wonderful!” A brilliant light interrupts her reverie, so bright and so unwanted as she becomes conscious she cannot breathe, surrounded in a mucous fluid, she cannot move, and the light is like a slash in the black void. The slit and the brightness getting larger, and larger. Lucy is now able to move her arms and reaches toward the slash ripping in effort to excavate herself from suffocation. Long strange finger assist the process from outside and Lucy pushes through the opening and in the brightness of her meadow she see a spectral image from her past, Jack. “Well hello Miss Lucille. I told you I would see you around.”

 

Sindy Sue Simms

Related Story

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Happy Halloween Word Press friends. I love you. The above was my short story for my Annual Spooky Writing Challenge. I am planning another non spooky challenge, so any of you writers out there love to have you participate. Be safe and happy. Get a reading or retain my favorite witch Sammi Cox for a candle burning.

See you soon.

Blessed Be~

Sindy

 

 

Dualistic Magic

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Dustin O’Halloran

I love the magic of a moonlit night, especially this one with storm clouds in the sky, and the wind blowing slightly in a breeze playing my wind chimes to perfection. I stage this night in advance and then just wait for it to happen. Sure enough it does and I am never disappointed. A backyard that when I first laid eyes on, I thought was hideous, is now an enchanted garden full of fairies and magic. This is not fiction it is my mind and imaging yet believing.  Sometimes, like tonight I weep. I weep in joy and bliss of the wonders I see and feel. I don’t think that you can put bliss into words? You can try to. I have experienced at least three occasions of prolonged bliss just sitting in my garden, and sometimes in the day as well. I love my bird friends especially a couple of woodpeckers. I love to observe how they call and stay in contact with each other from trees houses away. I watch the hummingbirds chase each other away, so territorial, and adversarial those guys are. I am enchanted by the butterflies, the trees, but my garden by moonlight changes, and it becomes mystical and enchanting. My garden is my communion with nature, with the elementals, the devas, the sprites, and gnomes. Oh my!

I can hear the whisper of my mind in the gentle darkness of the night. It feels like my soul snuggled in a cosmic womb, comfortable and cool, safe, and at peace. Ananda, ananda, ananda…..

I did weep in bliss and I have before. I feel very blessed.

Sindy Simms

P.S. I accidently reblogged here earlier. I meant it to go to Sindy’s Saturday Satsang, so I cannot reblog it again. I wanted to thank Deep Souldiving, for the introduction to Dustin O’Halloran. See it here.

Also thanks to sweet Aquileana for the award.

Namaste

Sindy