Table Of Contents Shaping The Human Mind Anne Hillman ...... 6 White Jason Janiak ...... 6 The States: Illinois Carolyn Parker ...... 7 Supernova Stacy Moorman ...... 8 Three Sacred Verses Brian Allemana ...... 9 Twizzle Adam Gregory Pergament ...... 10 Awaken Into Sense David Ziemba ...... 11 The Effulgent Ocean Of Clarifying Tears Gia Lisa Krahne ...... 12 The Community’s Modern Primitive Roots Mr Vibe ...... 13 The Droplets of Infinity Jean Louis Caamano ...... 14 The Thought Of Being Wes Smith ...... 15 Shanti Jim Parker ...... 17 The Bleeding Rose Holly Wood ...... 18 Drums not War Hazel Archer Ginsberg ...... 19 Ecosex Manifesto Annie Sprinkle & Elizabeth Stephens ...... 22 John’s Story John Sacelli ...... 25 Talking Drums Khadijah Kysia ...... 25 Lessons from Strangers Margaret Reynolds ...... 26 Party Bonnet Sarah Sparkles ...... 28 The Perplexity of Actuality Simon Cervania ...... 29 Pages of Truth Matt Weber ...... 31 sunny shares Kumar Javvaji ...... 31 The Unreasonable Master Jack Ryan ...... 32 Snow White and the Seven Chakras Clumsy Yogi ...... 33 Why I Believe the Universe is a Benevolent Place Adam Gordon ...... 34 What He Would Say Today Richard Lang / Al Chemysto ...... 35 Inside Out and Outside In Liba Waring Stambollion ...... 36 We As Spirit Chris Jackson ...... 38 Propel by Jennifer Long Spirits Fly by Elisa Rose Mountain 3 Editor’s Note We convene at yet another beginning as you unfold the pages and open yourself to this BrilliantlyMad experience . Let us take this journey together, align our individual microcosms to the eternal macrocosm, and trust in the BrilliantlyMad proudly serves as a recognized leader in faith that has set us here now . the Chicago Conscious Community. We subscribe to the Ever since 1998 BrilliantlyMad has been guiding the populace to be open philosophy that the objectives and goals set by our leaders are to possibilities of beauty in every moment of existence, to find joy in every strengthened by a collaborative approach. We have been blessed being and allowing this to expand indefinitely . Our philosophy is to balance in partnership by the organizations listed on the right, thereby the poles of the universe and unite rather than separate the dualities that enhancing the strength behind our shared world visions. Below cause so much conflict and confusion in the world . Love, compassion and har- are the visionaries who came together and helped to produce mony are the key to understanding this oneness . Through social events, web this Issue. We would like to take this opportunity to publicly connections and print publications we bring together communities, spread express our authentic and extreme gratitude for this union. positive vibrations and embrace the theory of balance and equilibrium in the If you would like information on joining in partnership with universe . BrilliantlyMad, please visit our website. Crossing the threshold into 2012, BrilliantlyMad moves through our 13th BrilliantlyMad Magazine moon and into a new phase . Our LeaderShip is navigating the see and as- sembling visionaries with vivid dreams of peace and synchronicity within Founder: David Ziemba Human Kind, Mother Earth and Father Sky . We coalesce and aspire to Editor-in-Chief: Jim Parker (A Strange Treat) enhance your life experience and provide a beacon of light in a world with Editors: Sarah Lombardi much darkness . Let us join together with you and all become teachers of the John Sacelli grandest kind, shaping the communities we live in and changing the world Courtney (Coelti) Ticsay one voice at a time . David Ziemba Art Director: Bill Tarlin Our past steps reverberate memories mirrored in reflective visions, remind- Designers: Bob Macko ing and transitioning us into our spontaneously loving selves . It is now time Simon Cervania to rebirth, shift and mature in body, mind and spirit . Shed your exterior Front Cover: Tantric Marriage by George Atherton skin of the world and find the common thread of humanity . Continue to Back Cover: The Maiden by Liba Waring Stambollion release what does not serve you and expand your divine potential . We are waiting patiently, with open arms, ready to love you without fear . Financial Director: Sarah Lombardi Web Designer: Eric Tripp Daylight dreamer, you are both young & old . Publisher: BrilliantlyMad Collective You take a journey of a thousand miles Contact: [email protected] without a single step, ©2011: The BrilliantlyMad Collective The BrilliantlyMad Collective seeking the truth of love in light & dark, extends heartfelt thank s to all those who donated funds to support the breathing in the secret wisdom of ancient fools . printing of this magazine. All work printed herein is published with Voyager, you would be an architect the permission of the author/artist. By submitting to of a world without martyrs BrilliantlyMad where paupers & kings live grateful, Magazine, each writer/artist certifies that the work they submitted even for tears . is their own original work and does not violate any copyrights or trademark s. No part of this publication may be reproduced or BrilliantlyMad . . .aren’t we all?? transmitted in any form without permission of the creators (unless you share it for free with your friends). Paper stock is 10% recycled. 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4 5 White The States: Illinois

So brilliant and bright The tire swing, swimming pool, and secret sidewalk. The culmination of all color Someone’s car fell through the ice of the lagoon. An embodiment of all that is We played “Ghost in the Graveyard”, In this light collected crawfish in the creek, Everything seems sacred and right gaped from the garage as hail popcorned off the grass. Bathed in the glow Watch it glisten Crouching in a corn field with my best friend some dark and cold October night, Ever so Crystalline in its elegance we recited poetry and chanted mystical mantras. Engulfing you Caressing you They built a mall over the wetlands, sucked them dry, like the magic of my youth. Loving you This embrace CHICAGO! Land of adventure, opportunity, and community! Purity in its finest form The Green Mill Tavern, the Exit, the El. Shaping The Human Mind One is cleansed Rambling through: Filled Wrigleyville (at 17) I tend to think that new life emerges from seeds, and forget a Charged Wicker Park (at 25) far more ancient truth. Today, I find myself celebrating the way No separation is felt and Lincoln Square (at 34). it can also arise from the very old—like these tiny seedlings United in this moment Mayor Daley, museums, and mummies. sprouted from the living root of a giant redwood tree. This The support The Tiffany glass domes of the Cultural Center. new life simply claims the giant’s root as its own, surrenders to The guidance Spellbound and silent before the masters in the Art Institute. its impetus, and grows towards the light. Direction The assuredness that is How do we cooperate with life’s gradual shaping of the You feel emboldened Driving, driving, driving..... human mind—its painstaking work of drawing us towards the Empowered through snowstorms, light of greater awareness? As I see it, the action required is to Showered (cars in ditches all the way home from Grandma’s house, follow trust the great root on which we stand—and learn to surrender. In all the radiance the ruts) Some see surrender as defeat, a capitulation to an outer force, Good graces through the blinding rain and hail of Spring storms, but it is really an inner relaxation—into the root. What does this The faces you see through rush hour traffic in the suburbs. (I’d rather the storms.) use of the word ‘root’ mean to you? That matters . For when The spaces The places you know what you rest on and can relax into it, your heart The southern lands like another country. All seem so grand opens to life’s secret—its creative impetus conveyed beneath Glorious Dusty dirt roads. thought: a feeling, an intuition, an image, or a confirming Once tasted Archaic hamlets: antique emporium, gas station, church and tavern. synchronicity. Subtle clues like these remind us that there is The fruit Springfield. Abraham Lincoln. infinitely more to life—a reality we barely notice but that the Seems not sour body knows intimately—a wisdom built into the great root on But that of the sweetest nectar Finding solace in the forest. which we live. When we remain exquisitely attuned to life’s Drink Red-winged blackbirds, hawk s, and deer. presence in this way, it will often surprise us: nudge us to be Raise your chalice Gold, scarlet, orange and dying leaves. more authentic, to improvise, to move in a new direction. Its Bejewel your palace The winter ice glazing trees. whispered hints may feel absurd, even impossible. But if you With the finest adornments dare to follow them, you will be adding more light to life’s The highest glory The adventurous fog and thunderstorms. Befitting of your story deep need for it at this time. Carolyn Parker Jason Janiak Anne Hillman

6 7 Three Sacred Verses #1 #3 The freedom from slavery With this sweet gift of Life Supernova Is in knowing that all things are enslaved I thee wed Are you at any time ever not possessed by Though you may forget me What feels eternal to the kinetically dormant something? Though you may deny me when motion exceeds time is only a moment Rejoice! Though you may curse me approaching velocities of man’s illumination Even music cannot exist I remain ever your Beloved forces of creation force time’s space disintegration Without the prison of air With you as you take every step of life, I am whispering my name — Nuclear fusion drawing truth to my core #2 Hear me in the raindrops an iron-clad promise that self becomes more Look! Look around you! My voice chatters through fire a transitional balance of giving and taking You have believed this your entire life — Even within your howls during the “That which is missing is not darkest night the unknowable strength of being in the making here” My voice sings in No, I tell you, look! celebration The massive creation of divine inspiration All around you! For then I know and we feel the depth of our association You are your journey So dense with sensation that our borders concede immersed has begun to the deep-seated need for our souls to be freed in it! its glorious Lovers return Critical mass unites with critical density caress With An explosion of self with reflective intensity your aching A rare display of power outshines the sun cheek antici­ illuminating our minds so we see we are one and pation bathe I await Through transcendence of self I become the true me your soul you releasing my grip so life can be free But like a Veiling

child who n my to disperse the seeds and create what will be i ta n and unveil the truths we’re unwilling to see sits with u presence o M the entire e just enough os R Even knowledge itself has the desire to know world before a To coax you lis itself and its nature, so that it can grow him E to further your Is it truth or belief or an unchallenged norm And cries over a quest that’s the true self of knowledge in its purest form? broken trifle Always with my hand You sulk, fret and toil out to you Letting go of the past on my own volition Over the things that grab you, Yours for the taking, shake you A reunion in the re-making, Surrender to God and my own intuition And with the greatest Love remind you: My hand was made to fit perfectly in An empty vessel in humble submission Look! Look around you! yours “Less is more” says the metaphysician The eyes of God are begging you to behold Stacy Moorman them Brian Allemana

8 9 Awaken Into Sense Open your eyes and blink yourself awake. See the infinite beauty surrounding you and let your self settle into the totality of the view. Simply be with the atoms blissfully dancing amongst you. No judgments, observing the all of it all. Gods and Goddesses stare back at you in every way.

Open your ears to the subtle calling of intuition speaking forth on waves of vibration. Calm the chatter and seek solitude in this midst of chaos, finding peace within. Listen closely to the whispers guiding truth to your path.

Open your nose and inhale the essence of breath. Welcome the scent to lightly tingle upon entry. Let it ebb and flow through your body, filling your lungs completely. Release the air through your nostrils, emptying back into the world. Allow these slow, deep breaths to flow nutrients through every intention you make outward and inward.

Open your hands to receive the personal touch of humanity. Stretch your body in all directions and hold this space in firm gentleness, grooming its sensitivity. Connect with nature’s roots, as we are intertwined at the deep center of the Earth. Twizzle Open your mind to the essence of creation. Expand your consciousness and greet with Swirl Swirl Swirl Swirl compassion all beings everywhere. Journey through novel horizons and find your Elixir Elixir Elixir individual spark. This key unlock s the doors of perception allowing you to witness Twirl my love your pure radiant light. and dance unending, Open your mouth and speak your truth. Let your voice cry forth intentions of peace. Speak in rhymes that drip in di go ver ti go Be thy force of hope in the world and let your soul be heard. We will listen to your mo story and what you have to share. la ss es Open your heart and love rushes in, filling your sacred engine. Be honest so this sanctuary of prosperity can expand infinitely. Streams of energy blend with yours, laugh sparkling opal moonstrummed tears ‘plashed forth’ manifesting greatness. The entire universe is with you in this moment joining the dance of life. Here we glow, bright, beautiful and in transition with our shared from pirouette existence. plunge into dreams Take a step back, out of the shadows and into the light. Drop your judgments. we both dream anew . Unwrap your past from the present and see the future coming. Become the totality of the human through all your senses of being. Wisdom allows you to let go and just Swirl Swirl Swirl Swirl Elixir Elixir Elixir be. Awaken with eyes open; receive the purity and coalesce along the fruitful and blossoming paths of life. Adam Gregory Pergament David Ziemba

10 11 The Effulgent The Community’s Modern Primitive Roots Ocean Of Clarifying Tears We’re all brilliantly mad in our own unique way public demonstrations and appearance in the and part of that uniqueness includes our choices 1987 documentary film Dances Sacred and Profane . of self adornment. Never before have there been (At 80, he still conducts piercing, hook pull and Shatter me, Terrifying Beauty! so many options in making a creative statement branding work shops.) Never stop wrecking me. about our identities with tattoos, body piercing and In the early 1970s, Musafar also helped usher in Implode me, shimmering trans- scarification. modern body piercing when Doug Malloy, a kinky parency of soul! Though prevalent today, the body modification Hollywood millionaire, recruited him and the Just a single drip from your movement was in its infancy just a few decades six other lone piercing aficionados in America to ambrosia-drenched body ago. The gospel of this art form was spread largely evangelize it. They penetrated the mainstream incites the sundering ripple by the publication of Modern Primitives back in by legitimizing piercing with a largely fabricated 1989. Known as the history, creating effect of total revelation. “Body Art Bible,” piercing jewelry Standing before you in uncon- it’s a compendium and publishing ditional nakedness, of photos and the magazine I am the effulgent ocean of interviews with PFIQ (Piercing clarifying tears. pioneers of flesh Fans International altering frontiers. Quarterly) to If I am just born, how is it that Appearing before promote interest. I have been born widespread Besides Musafar, so many times before? Internet use, the Modern Primitives book was the Jennifer Long also features tattoo The beauty of existence con- lone resource innovators like Lyle tinually shatters me. and “support Tuttle, Leo Zulueta, The burst, the disintegration of violent bliss group” for those Bill Salmon, Vyvyn strangles my mind with wonder, contemplating Lazonga and others epidermal bewildered by the reflective shards of self. including Ed Hardy explorations of (before he cashed Never ever to want again for insouciant consummation, their own. in with the T-shirts). reified incarnation, as it was. The phrase Their observations Lost to inescapable beauty, given to love. “Modern on the art form, its Ruins of self, fall! Primitives” was place in society and coined by Fakir the therapeutic role Fall into the heap, the dust of squirming birth Musafar. A South they play with clients and eat the warts of death off infants and lovers. Dakota native reveals a lot of deep Run your tongue across the trail of my scalding ashes, who got his name thinking behind the taking the remnants of undoing into your vessel. from a Persian inking. This is every moment worth recalling. human pincushion While many in featured in Ripley’s Monika Wypich Even so! Leave recollection behind for the karmic archives! the BrilliantlyMad Believe It or Not, he community may For with each approaching burst, past burns up. spent his youth studying National Geographic articles not be familiar with the first generation of Modern What is now present too will disintegrate. on native body modification rituals. Primitives, it’s likely they wear mark s of their Allow me, Terrifying Universe, to smear the smoldering ashes of Self Starting as a teen with some foreskin piercing, he indelible influence. In a sense, all who share this upon the blistering skin of my raging soul, went on to experience flesh skewering techniques connection belong to the tribe of these body art from around the world. His extreme experiments forebears. Growing to millions in twenty some years, as I make love to you in all your frightening forms. (which included radical corsetry) were conducted the most awesome part of this tribal phenomenon Covered in the blood, sweat, and tears of life continually birthing, in a quest to disconnect his consciousness through is the social modification that has accompanied its I will scream your name into the ears of all sleeping beasts, pain and induce out-of-body states. emergence from the underground. with not a single cowardly trifling about what one is or is not. It’s fair to say that the popularization of flesh hook Mr Vibe Swaha, great One! It is no one’s fate that I decide. suspension can largely be traced back to Musafar’s Gia Lisa Krahne

12 13 n o i ll o b m ta S g in ar W ba Li y b ife f L e o Tre Wes Smith

The Droplets of Infinity

A quiet, steady stream, flows effortlessly under the subtle currents of my The Thought Of Being consciousness. With imperceptible precision, it slowly drags along the countless pebbles of The Thought Of Being Blows My Mind restless thoughts, So Do The People Who Live Their Lives depositing the sediments of divine realizations along the bank s of my being. Forgetting How Crazy It Is, That We’re Here Often blocked by the dams of delusion, it swiftly finds its way through the The Way We’re Put Together fissures of my attachments and carries onward; The Way We Move leaving behind a myriad of fishes blind with desire. The Way We’ve Come Along The crystalline waters of concentration continue their determined retreat from And The Way We’ve Learned To Groove the treacherous seas of the senses, Suddenly When You Think It’s Over flowing upward towards the mountains of spiritual perceptions. Tomorrow Starts Again Reaching the summit, it finally finds its source. It’s Sometimes Hard To Tell Reverting the outward flow, it merges back into the tributaries of the One great The Beginning From Middle & End ocean of Bliss. Wes Smith Its infinite droplets, descending no more, dissolve into the formless beatitude of my Spirit. Jean Louis Caamano

14 15 Rossi Shanti

So. Passing Wolcott, I found the Happy I dharma-bummed across Chicago, my Village home, and its gorgeous garden and cheap, my city seemed spread out like jewels on glorious beer. a gypsy blanket. Not knowing the backyard was closed for (I love her, having seen her best and the night, worst.) illuminated, I found myself taking it in alone. I saw art bloom between her shimmering towers, Back on the street, sirens and blue light her hearty old share the streets with the played herald to a naked nirvana. eager young, A hundred nudes on bicycles I saw sickly cardboard huts under the aflame with laughter, calling out, highway, “Love your body!” a fat rat feast on drunken puke on the They rolled away, sidewalk. breasts and balls giving salacious testimony apart too long and they wither, die on my I crossed the river at Damen that they were, in fact, alive, natural, I felt like walking, so I did. tongue.) (that’s where the rats were) beautiful. From Belmont to Lawrence, and graffiti screamed boldly in black, Like fucking after a funeral to Broadway and back, I darkened the Green Mill’s door, “The hunted also hope.” when Death trembles in Life’s incarnate, through Lakeview and Uptown, Where Capone heard his jazz across a boarded window. incorruptible shadow. Edgewater, and Hamlin Park, and I mind-melded a stranger with Tom A sign on a building said, to Bucktown, W.P, and the Uke Village. Collins on the brain. “If you lived here you could walk to I took the long way. I roamed and rambled. Then south and sweet west I caught a Costco.” I took the long way back to the train. flicker I smiled. I wanted to take it too far, By Strange Cargo and shared a Fat Swami’s golden laugh; press my cheek against the deep bosom of I watched the street try to be seedy He said, “It is not important what you do, I fingered the stack s at Myopic on my South Side Motherland. with its sex shops and smoke shops. it is important why you do,” Milwaukee. Where King marched, Fail. staring hungry in the windows of his joy, It smelled just right—of book s and coffee and my brother died, Clark St, you are not what you I fought off tears. and cats; where I ran for the book shelves in once were. the place was packed with heads that bent preschool I hiked north past gorgeous Graceland. The streets swelled when Wrigley gave up into book s and fell asleep in a tree made hollow by (Hog butcher, her ghosts. and bobbed back up to steal look s, lightning. even your tombs burst with life These sprites exuded laughter and lust, flashing grins like bibliomaniacal knives. Jim Parker and bleed red history; all played. By Bucktown I’d ruined my shoes. all my words come from you, I heard no talk of winning. Onlookers spocked their brows when I laughed out loud at my holey sole.

16 17 The Bleeding Rose

The deep dark beautiful rose with petals Drums not War So soft the color sends off a dark red like it is crying A stream of sweet scented blood while it lies in a white tiny vase I will not will be dancing. Our In the moonlight surrounded by shining twinkling stars resting on a window sill dance to your war humming will be drumming. My mind racing, trying to figure out the mystery of this little rose drum—I will I will not be played. Looking for an answer as it unfolds itself, revealing it’s magic spells not lend my soul I will not lend my name It can cast upon us the beauty it brings or my bones to your war or my rhythm to your beat. Hypnotizes us, upon once there was a mystery, now solved drum—I will I will dance As I just rest my head on a pillow watching it as I fall into a deep slumber not be a puppet to your beating. and resist and dance and Holly Wood I know that beat— persist and dance. This it is lifeless. I know heartbeat is louder than Intimately that skin death. Your war drum ain’t you are hitting. It louder than this breath. was alive once My drum breathes & hunted, stolen, stretched. My heart drums I will not dance to your drummed up war. Words silenced I will not pop, spin, break for you. My hands speak I will not hate for you or even hate you. The beat moves I will Unleashing love not kill for you. Especially Time-space loose I will not die Loses control for you. I will not mourn the dead with murder or suicide. Pounding percussion I will not side with you Purpose and Passion or move to bombs Enter the place because everyone else is Of Rhythm going along. Everyone can be wrong. Life is a right, Enter the space not collateral or casual. Embrace I will not forget A piece where I come from. Of Peace I will craft my own drum. Gather my beloved near… Hazel Archer Ginsberg and our chanting

Iris Pasic

18 19 20 21  (vi) (v)  (iv)  (iii)  (ii)  (i)  with nature. We treat the Earth with kindness, respect andaffection. respect kindness, WetreattheEarthwith nature. with theEarth,wecollaborate with relationship to createamoremutualandsustainable day.Inorder eachandevery relationship forthis andwearegrateful love, in fiercely and passionately, Wearemadly, lover. our Earthis The ECOSEXUALS. WE ARETHE evident; that we are all part of, not separate from, nature. Thus all sex is ecosex. allsexis Thus thatweareallpartof,notseparatefrom,nature. evident; Weholdthesetruthstobeself andpractices. community about ecosexculture, andpollen-amorous, Wearepolymorphous Weeducatepeople We areeverywhere. tocomeout. ecosexuals andencourage Weinvite heterosexual, asexual,and/orOther. canbeGLBTQI, not.Ecosexuals forothersitis whereas (sexual) identity, primary our ecosexualis Forsomeofus,being IDENTITY. ISAN ECOSEXUAL with the Earth through our senses. We celebrate our E-spots. We are very dirty. E-spots.Wearevery our Wecelebrate senses. our theEarththrough with often. Wemakelove theEarth’scurves andadmire bywaterfalls, s,arepleasured rock worshipers,andstargazers.Wecaress dippers,sun toplants.Weareskinny erotically feet,and talk our theearthwith trees,massage hug Weshamelessly and aerophiles. pyrophiles teraphiles, Weareaquaphiles, EARTH. THE LOVE WITH WE MAKE peace. Bombshurt. peace. andglobal forEarthjustice andsex.Weworkplaytirelessly poetry, humor, ofart,music, therevolutionary tactics strategies.Weembrace activist environmental andradical anarchist disobedience, public theEarthwith fordestroying most guilty tofightthose maychoose thatsomeecosexuals werecognize although violence, oftheEarth.Wedonotcondoneuse abuseandthepoisoning stop therape, Wewill powersofseduction. joyandour love, through especially necessary, means watersandskiesbyany themountains, save WE AREECOSEXACTIVISTS.Wewill small and large, we connect and empathize with nature. with andempathize small andlarge,weconnect cities orin thewoods, green,organic,andlocal.Whetheronfarms,atsea,in to buy weaim Asconsumers culture. our in intersect andecology sexology where places the andexploring researching SomeofusareSexEcologists, soflife. walk diverse educators,(r)evolutionaries,crittersandotherentities from scientists, eco-feminists, activists, lawyers,peace people,therapists, gardeners,business fetishists, nature activists, healers,environmental academics,sexworkers,sexologists, artists, includes community This WE AREARAPIDLY ECOSEXCOMMUNITY. GROWING, GLOBAL, brings usclosertogetherforever . THE ECOSEX PLEDGE .Ipromisetolove,honorandcherishyouEarth,untildeath 22 Ecosex ManifestoEcosex Annie Sprinkle&ElizabethStephens

Ramon Intengan 23 John’s Story I’ve become. Taken the path I’ve taken. But I want to tell you one more story about Ted Sturgeon. Actually about one of his “BrilliantlyMad, aren’t we all?” book s. The story was called And Baby Makes Three. Each character in the story is a I once, in my days of youthful enthusiasm, hoped to start a tantric relationship with a social misfit. Some were physically misshapen. Some, shall we say, mentally or morally or young lady by asking her to meditate, looking directly into each others’ eyes. “What do sexually challenged. All of them were eventually driven from society, and found their way you see?” I asked as we locked gazes. “Mad. In both senses,” was her reply. together in the forests, formed a small community. Protected each other. The blind man And what could I have been mad about? Society? Family? Politics? The fact that I made love to the quadriplegic woman. A baby was born. The baby was the Messiah. apparently was not about to get laid? Or just—life? Well, hopefully we don’t have to be too crazy, too brilliant or too mad, to find our way Any or all of the above. In the AngeLynx Deck one of the cards is called Alienation, into our own Alien Nation. Where we can birth our own Messiahs. Our own New Age. which, on the reverse side, becomes The Alien Nation. When we don’t fit in, we look for Our own New Earth with an ‘Aliens Welcome’ sign in the front window. the other weirdos and misfits, the crazies and idealists, like ourselves—the ‘brilliantly Oh, and about the conclusion to The Righter: he leaves the AA Zone and returns mad’ ones. to society, gets his old job back, writes his masterwork for a private screening with One of my cultural heroes was a brilliantly mad author named Theodore Sturgeon. I met the sexy female Studio Producer, in which they both go through a wired-to-each- him when I took a Science Fiction Writing seminar about 40 years ago. You may possibly other psychedelic ‘war of the sexes’ before settling down to revise the studio into the have met him also—through his own work as one of the founders of the field of Science revolutionary enterprise which had always been her dream. Fiction, or as the recurrent character Kilgore Trout in the novels of Kurt Vonnegut. Keep righting! Keep dreaming! Though Sturgeon is not as well-remembered as some of the other early Sci-Fi authors, John Sacelli like Arthur C. Clark, Robert Heinlein or Isaac Asimov—in large part because he was more of a short story writer than a novelist—he was by far the best psychologist of the tribe Talking Drums: A TRANSATLANTIC and, arguably along with Ray Bradbury, the best poet. A writer’s writer. And a ‘brilliantly internet relationship between mad’ alien—perhaps from Tralfamador—if ever I met one. two or more wave/bodies. As part of my assignment for the Sci Fi work shop with Sturgeon, I wrote a novelette Your key fingers extend to my electrical field called The Righter. (Though my ‘official’ pursuit of the Angelish Language had not yet The dance resumes begun, the instinct was already there, as you can perceive by the title.) The point-of-view With more meaning character was a poet who made his living writing wired-in B Westerns and Porno-Scripts As phantom partners for a shady Hollywood Psych-Studio. Sick of the corruption, hopelessly in love with the As unseen members and appendages female producer who gave him all the bad scripts, he threw it all over and fled to Mex- As sensations fight for their rights to be separate entities Texico, where he joined AA (Artists Anonymous) to live a life free of techo-feelies and Allied in awareness and witnessing the world that is giving designer drugs in the Unauthor(iz)ed Zones. Birth to us Sturgeon seemed to really like my story, and promised to get it published, assuring me I could make it as a Sci-Fi writer. I returned to the Midwest, working on other scripts, In and out of sunsets and waited patiently to hear from him. A couple months went by, and I could stand it no Aching when I should ache longer. I dialed his number. His wife, a friend of mine, answered. I told her I’d called to And trembling, when it is time to surrender find out the status of the story. She paused: “It was at the head of Ted’s to-do list, at the We chase each other round the sky top of the Out Box on his desk. He planned to send it out this week. He died yesterday.” On these great technological barges That heed no time zones And with it, apparently, my career as a Sci-Fi author. I sent out The Righter, numerous Near and aloof- your are my most sacred mythology times. It always came back in the manilla envelope, with the form letter. Same with my I cannot help but to believe other stories. Perhaps if I’d kept at it . . . But, other careers called. Taxi Driver. Commercial That love is made in the spaces between us Fisherman. Migrant Farm Worker. And yes, even eventually a career as a journalist and editor for a few years. I’ve written some book s. And the AngeLynx Deck. Become what Khadijah Kysia

24 25 Lessons from Strangers brick s that had survived generations of festivities and hurricanes, “I just left, like that,” .demanded your secrets, your passions and soul . “Sold all my shit and got the fuck outta there ׃ועדי אלו םיכאלמ הב וסינכה רשא שי יכ וחכשת לא םיחרא תסנכה Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: For thereby some have entertained angels unawares . All these people ‘round me kickin’n’scratchin’, tryin’ to get to the top of the totem pole; I’m The Bible, Hebrews, 13:2 like, fuck, man—I am the goddamn totem pole.” They wanted you to play in their world . He had the eloquence of a man who understood all the rules and put effort towards breaking “You okay?” When you are lonely—when you really want someone to see you, to know that you them. He fit his livelihood into a backpack. And you said no . are there—you hide . You don’t want to offer a chance that the other person might not take . You * find yourself a little nook and look out at the world, at all its people . “Are you a punk or something?” He motioned toward my hair, bright orange and red and yellow. He middle-aged and had an easy smile. Traces of street wisdom lingered in his I couldn’t answer him while the music twisted, unfolding inside of me. We were in a posture, despite his briefcase and tie. warehouse on some farmland off a Canadian highway. It was tucked into a little spot where “I guess you could say that,” I smiled, ringing up his merchandise. we could create neverland for the weekend. I imagine he chuckled a little (like a veteran “I was a punk, had a band and everything.” He laughed like the smell of sweat, leather, and raver) when he realized amphetamines had spun my head into a new mode of perception. liquor had just wafted through the store. At first, it was blue . . . You can see them for all of their grace and dysfunction, every beauty and every lie . He “Yeah?” I grinned, teasing, “And now you’re buying bistro sets in Orland Park?” . . . before came with mint lifesavers and bottled water, gave me a light show and a head massage. that, it was pink and yellow and orange . He knew I was cold without me saying so and pulled his hat over my ears. You find pieces “Yeah, well,” he smiled and shrugged, “there comes a point, you know…is it selling out or of yourself hidden within their presence, their characters and histories . We stood there for growing up?” Black and purple and grey—each of these existed,I then faded into the others . hours, hearing the music, existing together, befriending each other without conversation. “It’s just a scene, after all, one day you’re not going to want fire for hair and the idea of a For a second, you think that maybe they are something more than their image, something white picket fence’ll seem pretty good. Love it while it lasts, though.” beside separation . * After I walked away that night, I realized he had used his hat to muffle the sounds that “Butterfly,” she said, “you are a long way from whence you came.” It’s like you’ve been stormed out of the speakers directly behind us. When those lights danced across my eyes staring at something for too long and all the edges disappear and the colors blend together, and his hand pressed my temples, he had covertly checked my vitals without disturbing and all you want to do is blink because your eyes are burning . So you leave . my reverie. I realized that he had taken care of me, just because he could. I never learned “I know I am.” his name. You get into the car and drive out west to find yourself . You think that all you have to do to * start fresh is leave everything behind, like peek-a-boo . All you have to do is cover your eyes . “I took a picture of you earlier.” “I was born there too, actually. I didn’t like it, though, all the steel and concrete; I couldn’t The girl shrugged. In the photo the sun had been shining, her curly hair glowing and breathe. But sometimes I miss it.” She was a vintage woman born outside her era, and she translucent. It made her look like an earthbound angel, throwing out the remnants of her matched the flowers of San Francisco perfectly. Wintertime could not have been easy for parents’ beer from last night. You can feel parts of yourself as they’re swallowed . It seems her. as though suffocation would be almost comforting, relinquishing control easy, but, inside, you When you close your eyes, you can feel the fallen leaves, “I love it there. It’s like my last name, want air; you want freedom . my skin.” They followed you all the way across the country . “You want a painting? They’re originals.” She was maybe 9-years-old, sitting on a cracked She idly strummed her guitar, unaware of the simple music her touch created, “Why did cement stoop trying to hawk children’s drawings. Tough as nails, all streetwise and sass, her you leave?” mouth was set and her jaw stubborn. She held her position like she’d already looked the You realize that you had never wanted to escape it, “I don’t remember, really.” world straight in the eye and said, ”Is that all you got?” You have to decide whether you’re “But you remember why you want to go back now, don’t you? It seems like we’re always willing to fight for it . leaving to go find what we left behind.” You had simply wanted the edges and colors to define “I can’t, sorry. Why are you selling them?” yourself within it. “For school supplies. It starts next week.” It was easy to believe her, she seemed so certain She got up and walked to the stage. I got into my car and headed towards Chicago. about what she was doing. You take what you’ve earned simply by surviving . Your world could * have been tragic, but you are not . Is it not true that every landscape I behold, every friend I meet, every act I perform, every I snuffed out my cigarette and looked at this girl, this child. She stood her pain I suffer, leaves me a different being from that they found me? ground on those rundown steps off Bourbon Street. Ralph Waldo Emerson, Education * Margaret Reynolds They asked you for a story, wrote you a poem . He was sitting in a doorway, leaning against

26 27 Party Bonnet

I’m making myself a party bonnet; A glow in the dark party bonnet To go with my multi-pocket rave aprons. Ima rage it on dance floors throughout the land. People will know I’m old-school, But not stagnant. My bonnet’ll be a peep show of whimsy and wisdom. Muck the past with the present and the illusion of future and in between Until I Am Ageless. (kinda) And I will not drink in the corner and talk shit about the kids in the hot pink aviators. And I will not laugh at the painfully awkward way some of them dodge the dance floor. And I will not even whine about the dubstep . . . more than three times a show.

I got lollipops and laughter in the pockets of my apron for those in need. Monika Wypich (I’d have more but my flask takes up a lotta space.) And if it gets to be too much, The Perplexity of Actuality if these new kids use up all my patience with lack of love and too many drugs, I guess I am not alone, But how can we? When we are not in-tuned, I will lower my head while getting down on the dance floor. when I feel like a drone, with ourselves, with the stars, nor the moon? I will block the world out of my peripheral Frozen Frozen emotionless, shown If we keep ignoring the perplexity with the luminous ruffles of my party bonnet. through the lack of encouragement of how the universe turns our actuality, And when they see me on the dance floor, they’ll think that our ego has established and that we are responsible for our own “Damn, I need a party bonnet.” in need of re-inventment when individuality, Sarah Sparkles we get trapped in a self-centered sense. creatively choosing choices in a wave of Stacking walls and building fence potentiality. to protect our feelings and we live intense Unaware and uncaring of the consequences, controlling, manipulating our situations, of our actions, response, reaction to our making excuses for ourselves in every sense. occasion. And now we float seemingly, weightless Impatient, when we’re facing and in reverie. opportunities that we’re chasing. This is real, this is the memory But it’s our reality that we’re bending drifting evanescence, to catch a glimpse of through the karma that we’re sending ethereal senses, by our actions sets the future impending. . . while our mentality condenses, reality still Doom and gloom when we want joy just commences. as soon Simon Cervania Simon Cervania as it can possibly bloom.

28 Pages of Truth

Desire chair it becomes a stool. If I should burn the stool it becomes ash. If I toss the ash back to the dirt, it becomes earth and returns to the eternal. The chair is just an extended Desire is motive. Know that you do not always need what you want. Realize that, even if metaphor of a tree. Look at the truth in things. Question the reality: Who built it? Who you don’t get it, what you want leads to what you need. To desire is not wrong. To desire made the materials? Where was it made? How many people touched it before you, and what other people deem evil is not wrong. These desires will simply lead you to places what will happen to it after you are done with it? Do you need to have answers? If so, where those others do not wish to be. However, the place you come to may not be the look them up or make them up. The Truth is out there . place you really want to go. To help your development in this matter, you should know only one thing: Where do you want be? If you know where you are going and have faith Matt Weber that you will get there, then your desires will provide those opportunities, and restrict those experiences that are unnecessary. And remember, you can do nothing wrong, it all work s for perfection. Peacefulness Peace Full Ness, Peace nest full, Full ness peace, peace of full ness . What does it mean to be “peaceful”? What does it mean to be “peace empty”? If one is without peace, then agitation and aggression seep in. If one is full of peace, not a brow is raised at either the smallest or most drastic of agitations. I am finding daily that the more I plan for how I want things to go, the less peaceful I become. I become flush with hope and future dreams, and—when those dreams and desires get disturbed—I writhe and rapture at the one who chose to do such things. As I write this, I give up my plans, and remember a good philosophy I picked up in high school: Don’t worry about it. The less you worry, the more peace you are granted. Don’t worry about what someone else does to your project or plans; don’t worry when someone undermines your false sense of authority. Don’t worry when someone steals your bike, when you get mugged, raped, falsely convicted, murdered, or when someone doesn’t make your eggs the way you want them. Worry is the seed for fear, which bearsthe fruit of anger. Breath is the seed for peace that bears the fruit of joy. Sally Sachs Truth Truth is. Where are you looking? What are you looking at? Do you see the truth in It? Sunny Shares Every aspect of life is filled with truth. This truth can be traced back to the ultimate oneness of eternity. The truth for I is that I write. I use a language common to America party of one that started in Sumerian monosyllabic “grunts and gahs,” which through time gained we are part of the sun consonance and an ever increasing vocabulary. In an efforts to be understood, we all ancient messages agreed to adopt this language as our own. Now, this allows me to transfer the realizations say we’re second to none of this mind to thy mind. Realize this: Truth is God. Put aside all precepts and religious no revolution without conscious evolution references to God and look at Truth. Truth is eternal, with out end. Truth is what one no resolution without cosmic constitution does, sees, feels, think s, is, builds, desires. In Truth all things are made and destroyed. our realities mirror each other A tree is only a tree so long as it resembles a tree. When the tree is cut, chopped and and between us, we’ll find infinite instant ego dissolution reshaped into a chair then the tree becomes a chair. If I should cut the back off the and between us, we’ll write a chapter to a story that only we can share Kumar Javvaji

30 31 The Unreasonable Master

It is my request that you kill me. You must…even though you don’t want to. You are resisting my decree. What does that say about your fearless devotion to me? Is it really fearless and is it really me that you are devoted to? Are you devoted to the feeling of security that belief in me gives you? They tell you to be like me; to be at one and at peace with all things. There is one thing that you are not at peace with and that is the perspective of your highest self. Right now this is me asking you to kill me. You must do it for yourself and not because I am asking you. If you are still stuck on the security my unchanging image gives you, you will never be free of it. You will not experience divine freedom until you perform the impossible. You will not experience material freedom until you reach material death and embrace it as a welcomed companion. How can you embrace your life if you avoid its most crucial moments? How can you be serving your ‘Veil Lifts’ by Diógenes Lamarche highest self if you only follow it reasonably? I love you. When you comprehend that sentence you will experience the freedom that I am pointing toward you and you will see as much as the sweeping dance We’re not your pedestrian garden gnomes reason as it is. Until then you will be loved unconditionally and you will only experience It was a merry carpenter who appointed you know receiving that love reasonably. So take care to place carefully all the steps of your this den Open your eyes, journey. For each step you can realize that I am asking you to kill me and live free. Knick-knack s with painted grins we are earth water fire air Jack Ryan rattle with the stomp sound and light Snow White and the Seven Chakras Capering in circles, But which of us will set you free smiling halfling in his element, which dwarf holds your destiny?” Before she mends he is astounded in his own power Happy lock s eyes with the maiden. she has to know seven men to lead fair damsels Cozy in a corner, Change your partner, dosie-doe who fasten cuteness with a clasp, the seventh dwarf snores. Before she knows what she’s instigated Snow’s heart is open, easy a bearded mask. The sleeping one is a flower, the escaped princess is dancing wild Drunk with the momentum of the party Snow-complexioned awkward virgin a thousand petaled lotus. teasing old wounds she had closed she collapses warm on a little stool taken in by clumsy bumbling Ever drowsy in a world distracted with poultice from the palace well did you catch a sideways leer To stoke her heat his gift will free Snow White. wishing, on your way down the stair? the sickly one bellows a breath of fire landing on a healed fracture Teary, heavy-lidded, bloodshot Wonder. What does a princess have to do The dumb one incoherent as the earth she kick s a button under the stove bursts of sneeze and wind to receive her crown, a root that diverged pushing her limits The cavity he unblock s, to be a bride no one is comfortable talking about his A scowling dwarf pounds the keyboard drips runny magic. in the marriage of thought and form? nature — dumb and bald agitated his is the energy that rises Snow White’s glow envelops he wants to play free, Sleep my pretty, sleep my pretty. these funny men who lift her spirit To lead the dance run off the trail, Don’t mind the snoring She’s high-tipsy as a white hare The Dope climbs but he is yoked to the time hear it as the buzz of bees on an agave bender-unsteady into the coat of a larger man— His piano is strength in action offering honey for the inner journey while under his feet, moving the room The uncertainty of coming days Borne in slumber by the seven the flush-faced fellow hops toward happiness pulls at her. Fear, intrigues, dooms... left in a wood, heigh ho to wake all erotic in the frolic. The wise dwarf touches Shakti to Shiva The wood trim around the dancers His blush is not shame, the rim of his twinkling specs Clumsy Yogi scrolls and curls “Go inside you’re almost home.

32 33 Why I Believe the Universe is a Benevolent Place What He Would Say Today I think we all mourn for the loss of the way we were cared for as children on some level. Being responsible for our own well being is frightening, scary, painful and downright tragic How many people have been killed in my name? sometimes. Whatever our circumstances even the strongest of us are fragile vulnerable creatures and we know it. What to do? How many wars fought to honor me? I think most of us spend our lives trying to make this not true. If I just do x, y and z then this won’t apply to me. If I find the right partner I’ll be cared for. If I make enough money. Help How many people have been robbed of their own beliefs, their own faiths? enough people. All these things have their benefits, but they don’t make us any less fragile. On the contrary, How many women shunned for their spontaneous births? trying to have these things make us feel safe only takes away our ability to enjoy these things when we do get them, and there is much to enjoy about all these things. How many bastard children cast out? So what is a human to do? Frail, vulnerable, alone and because of it unsatisfied, even with our blessings. Here I would ask the question: if I had a choice, would I choose this? For me, and How my words have been twisted! most of us the answer is no. So how do we choose something else? How my actions have been ignored! Well, let’s start by looking at what we are choosing now. Our dilemma is that we are faced with ambiguity about death, pain, suffering and aloneness. The assumption we make is that these things are to be feared and avoided at all costs. However, these things are inevitable. So How much guilt has been heaped upon the innocent? we are faced with an inevitable future which we assume is catastrophic. What is a human to do? How did you learn intolerance from me? There’s a belief at work here that creates this fear. I would articulate that belief as: either the universe (or God) is hostile or at best indifferent. I used to believe this. Knowing that this My word was to be spread, not forced. belief is the source of my suffering, would I choose to believe this if I had a choice? The answer for me is a clear no. So what is the alternative? I was who I was because I thought for myself. Why can’t you do the same? Try this on and see how it feels: existence continues behind me infinitely. Everything that has ever been has led to this experience of my life in this moment. This is a benevolent universe. I didn’t want to die. This is a universe that loves me. Every experience I have is actually the universe loving me in ways I cannot understand. I died for my own “sins”. Now this is not necessarily true. I can’t definitively prove this, but I also can’t definitively prove that the universe is hostile and indifferent. These are not provable questions. These are I died at the hands of people like you. choices. They are choices of where we place our most empowering ability, which unique to humans. This is our ability to have faith. Why do you remember me with the instrument of my destruction? As creatures in this uncertain world, answers to these fundamental questions will never be figured out. There is no correct answer. How we answer these questions is how we create our Why do you scapegoat me for your actions? reality. Who are any of you to judge? Just as there is no correct way to put paint on a canvas, or for a river to cut a gorge in the earth, or for a tree to grow branches, there is no correct belief for us to place our faith. It is our birthright to choose our personal expression of faith. Who are you to claim the truth?

I’ve given you the belief I choose to have faith in now. I choose it because it has me feeling Would you recognize me today? deeply loved and safe in the world. Because it makes my heart feel full and makes each moment worthy of gratitude. This is a choice I’ve made. This choice is my birthright, as your choice is your birthright. Have you chosen your personal faith or are you faithful by default? How do you know I’m not already here? What would you choose if you could? The choice is yours. Richard Lang / Al Chemysto Adam Gordon

34 35 Liba Waring Stambollion Liba Waring And then you denied The mirror again. The hills, the fields, trees, The stars, the cities and the bees. The sacred dream was put to shame The day that you denied Her game. And how you secretly yearned for it And yes you were secretly shamed by it. Shamed by your desire of the flesh Shamed by an apple sweet and fresh Sadness set in As you battled your sin But onwards you went With discipline and intent you were lonely, Till old and bent And not once did you say Where did I go wrong? Not once did you lay Your head down low and say Maybe it’s not to myself I should pray Maybe I should look in the mirror and see You looking back at me. We are here now. All of us. Each so unique like waves in the ocean. Each just drops of Ocean in motion… From Eas t from West. Sick and crabby Sad and flabby We sucked our rivers dry Our birds, our wolves, our fish they die still we crave Yet More and more until the grave Stops us. And not once did we say Where did I go wrong? Not once did we lay Our head down low and say: Maybe its not to some God I should pray Maybe I should look in the mirror and see Myself looking back at me. From the East you arrived. Full in your beatitude Peacefully walking, Rarely talking. You saw inner beauty, You understood unity. And you celebrated Our greater Self As you sought your divinity As you thirsted for Love. On your journey inwards behind you left All that was one of a kind Spells to make us suffer, spells to make us blue. All too separate to be true Illusion you cried Inside Out and Outside In Outside Out and Inside west we came, From th e Each one of us unique, Our banners held high, Piercing the lapis of the clear blue sky. So colourful, so proud, Our song strong and loud. We rejoiced in earth’s beauty: The mountains, the trees, The songs and the breeze. And we celebrated this world, With its oceans of pearls, We honoured the sun, the moon and the seas And we marveled at distant galaxies… We even reached for the stars Grasping for divinity, Thirsting for love But the more we grasped and harder tried, The more we missed and the more we cried. Fulfilment always slipped away Quickly, before we could say That we had our fill, That our heart was finally still. withWe were left hate At our bewildering fate. We blamed each other We forsook our Mother Hungry, greedy Sad and needy We took more than we could digest.

37 Universal Solvent by Justin Totemical We as spirit and pure love are becoming more manifest in physical form on our spiral journey up the Melodic Rainbow Ladder of Consciousness. As we shift in perspective from the small exclusive Me, alone in a large dangerous world to the larger inclusive We, as an interdependent part of a small beautiful and abundant global community, we are moving into the realm of true united empowerment and new amazing possibilities, where our greatest Utopian fantasies are becoming not only more achievable, but necessary. It is this necessity collapsing the old , moving us toward invention, creating the space where our greatest dreams can now take flight. Center yourself in love and put your wildest ideas to the test. With imagination and commitment we will fly in our action spiraling from our truth to attracting other dreamers to collaborate and add their power to our collective manifesting. Magic and Miracles become one as Intention and Love Galvanize Collective Agreement and we watch the fabric of our reality transform before our eyes. With our Knowing prayer goes beyond hope to the true power within us all. When united, we remember All is One, and One is All, All through One, and One through All, we soar to new heights beyond our wildest dreams. Creator became Created in shards, so the shards could come together when we re-converge and All Created Beings as pieces of the great puzzle lock into place to create the Master Creator in Collective Physical Form where anything is possible. Our task is to become a know no-thing, empty our cups of our pasts, then let go of the cups completely to become a collective channel where the river of all knowing creation may flow through to present us with the unfolding miracles of the now delivered to us from the ocean of the infinite. Remember, Remember, Remember! So be it! And so it is! Abrahadabra!!! Chris Jackson

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