Bill’s a good egg but what on earth is he so quiet about? Looking at the achievements of the ALP over the last 7 years it is clear they have made a huge positive contribution to the country’s growth. Although no government is without mistakes, the contribution is clear and good. He should be taking up a cudgel to the NLP for everything they’re pulling down,not murmuring “A rat a rat!”
In this translucent picture is the first of the story of C.F. and this is the front, the fallacy if you like the surface of what it might have been like at the time of her birth. Behind will emerge the shadows of reality.
In this mad pursuit, the fisherman is betrayed by the very thing he was trying to be rid of because in the process he allowed himself to be seduced by the things of the flesh and the world, since the soul without heart is bent on endless attempts to satiety. His soul has tricked and beguiled him and so he loses the object of his love; when at last he refuses to listen to the soul and goes back to the water the beautiful mermaid is washed up on the shore and she lies, dead in his arms.
Like the fisherman not valuing his soul, we give away the earth’s riches for power but at a huge cost. Firstly we have to protect ourselves from the dangers, secondly this makes us anonymous, we lose our humanity, our soul.
Her eyes mesmerise him..
The fisherman determines to give away his soul vowing that it is no use to him, he cannot see it, touch it has no use for it, so that he might be able to live with the mermaid with whom he is besotted.
Skin: Layers of epithelial cells, keratinocytes, collagen, sebaceous glands and oil, silica, fat, no blood on the outer layers, a big big breathing sweaty bag that holds us in and the world of pathogens out.
More melanin less melanin whitey white browny black yellowy white pinky red bluish grey purply pink blue black creamy white, softly crinkly smooth not wrinkly riveted with moles dimples spots freckles nevi bumps excrescences hairs lanugo fur pubes scabs crusts warts scales…
The mill’s grinding orbs press and bite the grain
chewing and rubbing between the turning stones
husks vent up into the North where the air is dry
then lifts it on a spiralled dance then to lie,
a fine gritty veil drawn over land once verdant and much loved.
You there in the North, come back to the South
where the flour waits for the baker’s hand
the leavening for the sweet kiss of heat and time
The best bread is made with a firm hand and a blasting heat,
so let us break bread together
leave the tooth of the stones to grind another’s grain
and let love lie in open fields
for a gentler softer rain.
02/03/2014
Weeks and weeks of it. With a tremulous hand, nervous and exhilarated I’ve been doing the stuff, drawing thinking planning creating. I’ve done my meditations, I ‘gone inside’ I’ve focussed until my pineal gland was erect and ready…but….
SWEET FAT NOTHING.
What do I expect?
Like all creative people with some firm belief in themselves I expect that call.
“Is this Catherine Forsayeth? Creator of that amazing art…those ascerbic clever technically excellent cartoons?”
“ahhh…ye.esssss”
“We’d like to offer you a contract starting retrospectively to everything you’ve ever done including the rude drawings of 1964 at the back of Sr Philomena’s class. We’ll send our people over for you to look over the contract. No rush, the million dollars is yours just for answering the phone.”
Riiiiiiiiiight.
But why shouldn’t it work that way? Abraham Hicks says it will when my vibrations are resonating at the right frequency! Well they are. I checked. The dog died from ear cancer and there are no birds around. That says everything.
Gimme my contract.
Policy changes at breakneck speed…some injuries to be had
