You Can’t Insult a Whore

“I can’t believe it!” Kaui (Blogmistress and Goddess of Patience)  said to me recently.

“What?”
“So-and-so said such-and-such to you and you weren’t insulted at all.”
“Huh. . . I guess I don’t remember.”
“You WEREN’T insulted,” Kaui said. “You don’t get insulted easily.”
“I guess not.”
“How come?”
“Ummmm. . . guess I don’t notice.”

Diane Nelson (now Martin) and AA at SFAI 1969 (note hint of armpit hair— very 60's!)

In the late 1960’s my friend, Diane Nelson, a psychologist, and I taught a graduate seminar at The San Francisco Art Institute called, “Woman is the Nigger of the World,” a brilliant line of Yoko Ono’s. Even then, when the women’s movement was experiencing some early birthing pains, the line was a stunner. It had certainly never occurred to me before— obviously Blacks (the correct hip term for African American then. . .) were oppressed and various other racial, social, economic groups. . . NO ONE  seemed to notice that women everywhere were in the same leaky boat.

Other faculty members objected to the title. We were raided by a radical women’s group from Berkeley because we had a male teaching assistant. Those were the days. Lots of action, political and otherwise. We also had male graduate students in our seminar, not considered pc.

Margo St. James at the summit of her fame!

One of our first guest lecturers was Margo St. James, the famous San Francisco prostitute, who’d organized Coyote, the first whores’ collective— San Francisco being one of the few cities where prostitution was not run by a mob of men. Margo was one of my personal heroes and the whole class was very excited. . . we were going to interview a real WHORE. But the day of the class I got a call from Margo postponing for a week. What to do? I decided each member of the class, men and women, would take a turn sitting in the center of the group while the rest of the class asked them the questions they’d prepared. We were surprisingly creative with our answers. The big surprise, I guess, being that we all knew what it would be like to be a whore.

The next week when Margo turned up we went downstairs to the cafeteria to grab a cup of coffee before class. Truth is, I was a little worried. By the end of the class the week before our questions had become extremely intimate. I didn’t want to offend or distress Margo— so I described what we had done and asked if there were any areas she would prefer not to talk about.

Margo was wearing loose black pants, an embroidered shirt, black boots and a big black cowboy hat. Her dark hair was loose; she had smooth olive skin, and a slight slope to her profile that suggested she might be part Native American. I already knew she’d made up her professional name.

Coyote logo. . .

She laughed, pushed her cowboy hat back on her head with the heel of her hand and delivered one of the great all-time lines, “look AliceAnne,” she said, “you can’t insult a whore.”

My world was rocked! I got it.

THIS was the source of her phenomenal personal power, her largeness of spirit, her mana. Nothing insulted her. She had nothing to protect, nothing to defend. Whores were at the bottom of the ladder of female occupations— (just below psychics I realized a few years later when I left my prestigious title behind, Professor of Humanities and English, to go to London in search of a teacher who would guide me in this strange new territory).

Never a good reason to be insulted that I can think of.

Here’s a good joke about psychics and whores. The two professions are surprisingly similar. We both become extremely intimate with someone in a very short period of time and then they give us money. Psychics, of course, will do it with almost anybody.

 

ART IS HARD

I saw that written on a bathroom wall at The San Francisco Art Institute (the little one outside of the new lecture hall. . . when the lecture hall was new), and I thought it was brilliant. Later I remembered that I had written it a few years before when I was teaching there. I disguised my handwriting because I didn’t think teachers should be writing on bathroom walls (unless responding to personal messages to them, which also sometimes appeared).  I don’t think art is hard, for me it’s more like play. Playing around. . . making movies about something you want to see, writing something you want to read. Nevertheless, I am always enchanted when someone writes something thoughtful and brilliant about what I have accomplished, or says how important it was to them in some way.

On the other hand I wrote The Last of the Dream People because I felt EVERYONE needed to know what was in it. . . HOW to dream. That still seems important to me. But the book didn’t sell well. I give copies away at every opportunity. But I imagine many artists must look at their work and feel inside themselves such deep pleasure, wonder even. “I did that!” ” “It is beautiful.” “How could I have made something so perfect?” Things like that. That’s how I would like to feel.

These little white birds are outside Henry's window at KCC— Kaui says they're manu-o-Ku, the official bird of the city and county of Honolulu. They mate for life.

 FAULTLINES —read this book!

My friend, John Knoop, is a hero. Until a freak bicycle accident derailed

him, he was one of the most successful documentary filmmakers in the country. . . co-producer and cameraman for special reports for the MacNeil-Lehrer NewsHour in the hotspots of Asia, Eastern Europe, South and Central America. Faultlines, his memoir, spins together tales of his travels, world affairs, his loves, guerilla wars. . . and some of the extraordinary risks he took to get the best footage for the story.

You can download his gorgeous illustrated book (for free!) at his website: http://www.johnknoop.com/

 

Bahamas Dolphin Shoot 1976

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Seeing Auras. . .

Dinner at Prima, please note Kaui's lei of single-use plastic bags, one of many lovingly made & given to legislators at the Capitol.

Blog-mistress and Goddess of Patience, Kaui Lucas, and I are at Prima, the terrific new restaurant in Kailua, celebrating the success of the day before— when we worked with  John LeBlanc and watched him make magic on my new Word Press blog. I am more excited than Kaui. “Listen to this,” I say. “When I got home last night I realized we forgot to put blah blah blah on the blah blah, and now it’s published and anyone who tries to register to receive the blog is going to be told to go somewhere that doesn’t exist— so I’m going crazy, and John has left for that big music thing in San Antonio. . . “

“Oh god,” Kaui yelps.

“But listen!” I am exuberant. “I did it myself!”

“What!”

“I did. First I couldn’t even get the bloody thing to open. But then I came back and I fooled around, tried this and that. . . and I fixed one problem, and it felt so good I was able to fix the other!”

Kaui is amazed. She had been taking notes while John worked, but I was dazed after the first ten minutes and didn’t appear to learn anything. “How did you do it?” she asked.

"It's how you learn to sex chicken eggs, too."

“I couldn’t figure it out, then I realized it’s just like seeing auras. If you want to learn how to see auras you hang around with someone who can, you sit close, and pretty soon you can do it. It’s how you learn to sex chicken eggs, too.”

“What?”

“Forget about the chicken eggs. I think I learned how to do it from being in John’s field energy. . . ”

“You mean that if I sit next to you when you’re seeing auras I’ll be able to see them?”

“Sure. . . . maybe. I don’t see auras very often actually, and when I do I become so ecstatic that I can’t do much else. The problem is if you think, even for a second, oh man, I’m seeing someone’s aura!— it disappears. Wrong side of the brain kicks in. . . . except once. . . once I was seeing auras and it just got better and better. . . .” Kaui’s waiting expectantly.

“It was in London. . . late 70’s maybe, and I was taking a three-day enlightenment intensive from my friend, Jeffrey Love.  Second day of it . . . I was already pretty loaded, expanded, whatever, and we were doing a walking mediation. I was walking down some sidewalk in an old neighborhood on the outskirts of London, summer, grey, dank, as usual, and then I looked in someone’s garden. I thought the sun had come out and was shining through some brilliant stained glass window, illuminating a rosebush, a rosebush in full bloom which was surrounded by the most gorgeous color, so I kept looking around for the window. . . then I realized I was seeing the rosebush’s aura! Glorious. And I kept seeing it. So overwhelmingly beautiful!

So I went on to another garden. I wanted to see auras around more flowers, but the next garden had a high fence around it. Then I noticed a knothole a little less than a foot above the ground, so I bent down to look through it. No flowers. But when I stood up something happened— something so delicious that I could barely stand it. . . it filled me with such ecstasy. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I wanted to feel it again, so I bent over and looked through the knothole, stood up, and it happened again! Rapture. I kept leaning down, looking, standing up. . . oh god, orgasmic energy filling my entire body, over and over again. Then I realized what it was. . .

“Yes?”

Kaui wants to feel it, too. I go on. “I was wearing some old blue striped overalls and a t-shirt, no bra. So every time I bent over my breasts would fall forward. When I stood back up they would fall slowly back on my chest. That was it. My breasts slowly falling back on my chest.

“THAT was it?”

“Yep. So I just kept slowly bending over and then slooooowly standing up, gasping and moaning with pleasure. . . until somebody noticed me— so they went in and got Jeffrey who came outside and brought me back in.”

“Were you enlightened?”

“Probably not. I’ve tried it a few times since, without the fence and the knothole, but it hasn’t worked. It’s kind of like that with auras. You just never know until it happens.”

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It’s Time to Talk About $$$$$$!

 It’s time to talk about $$$$$$. How to get it. Why it’s such a loaded subject. Why we want it and fear it. But mostly I’m going to tell you how to get it— 

It’s good to have money. Money is closely connected to trust as my brilliant friend, the astrologer-physicist, Rosie Finn, says. That’s where it all started. Imagine someone in 16th century Florence. He’s on his way to Genoa and he wants to take some dough, four gold coins— but he knows better than to carry the cash— so he goes to Giovanni, who takes the gold coins and gives him a note to show his cousin, Pietro, in Genoa, who will accept the paper and give our man four gold coins.

In the past our paper money was actually connected to a pile of gold or silver stashed somewhere. No more. It’s just a little piece of paper with no real value whatsoever. It’s simply about trust. We trust that the worthless piece of paper has value. Key word: trust. If you want to have more money pay some attention to any trust issues lingering inside. That’s enough therapeutic discourse— here’s how to make it flow in your direction.

(Aside: one of my deep-moneyed clients in Switzerland periodically sends me piles of Swiss francs instead of using a credit card. I took some into my bank in Kahuku, trusting I could convert them to something useful. “What is this?” the teller asked. “This is Swiss francs,” I said. “This is really, really GOOD money!” “. . . then why does it have flowers on it?” she asked, suspiciously.)

Some years ago my cupboard was not exactly bare, but not overflowing, either, so I decided to do a workshop called DEEP MONEY. I did one in Hawaii, a couple on the mainland. Worked. Here are the two best tools that came from that workshop, with some improvements I have developed over the years since. The first is an inventory re your unexplored attitudes towards $$$$, the second is a meditation to invite $$$$ to flow in your direction. They’ve worked for me. I do the inventory every few years, keep copies of old ones. . . and this year, FINALLY, saw something important I’d always missed. I won’t tell you what it is. . . you’ve got to discover it for yourself. 

Note: it is possible to have piles of riches and still worry about money. Having money isn’t about how much you have— it’s about having enough to feel safe and comfortable, to cover necessities, and necessary luxuries, to share with others, to enjoy. Here are two very useful tools to increase your feelings of affluence and abundance.

(another note: evolution is free!)

The Personal Money Inventory: 

1. What is the right amount of money to have?

$____________income   $__________savings $__________investment $__________ other

2. Are you embarrassed about wanting more money?  yes______ no______

3. Is it shameful to want more money?     yes______no_______

    Is it shameful to not have money?   yes______no_______

4. Where do you fit? (check all that apply)

      wealthy__ comfortable__

     sucessful___ barely making it___

     always enough___ never quite enough_____

     $$ is not important___ constant anxiety about money___

     it’s important to be debt free____

     unworthy_____ survival____

     secrecy____ aloof_____

     other____ other_____

5.  family patterns: (check all that apply)

      siege mentality___ subsistence mentality___ slave mentality___

       boogie man /”they” mentality____

     sky-pie mentality___ when-our-ship-comes-in mentality____

     smash & grab____ magical mentality_____

     money as power____ work ethic mentality_____

     survival mentality_____ beyond our control_____

     cheap_____ money=love______

     offensive_____ frugal_____

     other______ other_____

6.  How much money are you willing to have?  $____________income

$__________savings  $__________investment $__________ other________

7.  What did your family believe about people who were rich or successful?

8.  What do you tell people about how much money you have?

9.  Do most of your friends have:  the same amount______ less money_____  more money_______ mixed_________ other________.

10. What is your major money anxiety?

11. How did you get money as a child?

12.  What did you have to do for it? Were strings attached?

13. Who controlled the money in your family?  Did he or she use that power to control others?

14. Did you work when you were a child?  Did you have to work?  Were you allowed to keep your earnings? How did you spend them?

15. Did your parents always seem to give more money to your siblings than they did to you?  Or vice versa?

16.  Did your parents spend money recklessly?  Or did they hoard money?

17. Did your parents trust you with money?  Or did they mistrust you?

18. Did your parents fight about money?  What do you remember them saying?

19. Were your parents ever in serious financial trouble?

20. Did you ever have to lie about a parent’s whereabouts to creditors, bill collectors, or welfare workers as a child?

21.  Did you steal money as a child?  Were you caught?  What happened?

22. What did your parents expect from you as an adult re money?  Spoken or implied?

21.  Write below a new belief about money you would like to have.

22.  Think of something you want– what new belief about yourself might you need to have it?

23.  Briefly (3 min.) list as many items as you can that you wanted, imagined, or fantasized about having that you received or achieved.

24.  Is there a miracle you would like in your life right now?  Are you open to receive it?

25. Imagine yourself 10 years from now– you have given yourself permission to be all that you can be.  Make up a story about your qualities, your success and abundance during the next 10 years (2012-2022).

John LeBlanc (working on a machine older than he is!) transfers my Deuter soundtrack to digital files to be used on the upcoming TIME TRAVEL Meditation. . . soon to be available on this blog. 

My granddaughter Yashi and friends rock out at India Club sleepover.

DEEP $$$$$ MEDITATION

I usually use this at the end of my morning meditation. If you don’t meditate regularly it will still work. Begin by sitting, feet on the floor, eyes closed. Stabilize your energy by breathing the same number of counts in and out for a minute or two, e.g. breathe in four counts, out four. . . then increase the count after a few breaths.

Next rub your palms together, then gently pulse them a little less than a foot apart until you feel tingling on the palms. Then separate your hands, still pulsing them and move them around as if you were making a BIG ball of energy with your hands. If you are trained in Reiki Healing, or any other form of healing that uses symbols, put the symbols in the ball.

Then call on your Reiki Master in Spirit (if trained in Reiki or other Spirit forms), your higher self, and any other non-physical energetic beings you’re in contact with. . . just calling on your higher self, however is fine. Ask that they heal, harmonize and balance all areas of your life in regard to affluence and abundance. Ask that affluence and abundance come to you like mana from heaven (love this part), and then list any sources you are likely to receive abundance from. . .first your usual sources of income: salary, fees, wherever you receive it— then add things like gifts, inheritance, prizes. . . and finally be sure you include “any other sources you have not imagined.”

Ask that this affluence and abundance comes to your own advantage and to the advantage of all those connected with you. (You want to spread the good stuff around. This is a VERY important part. $$$$ is like fertilizer, you need to spread it around, not pile it up somewhere.)

Last, put any symbols you may have used into the ball again, and give it a little push off, up into the air, the zero point field, the source of all of it and us and everything. You don’t need to do this everyday; but you can. Do plan on using this good meditation regularly for a month or two.

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Merry Christmas and Happy New Blog!

Happy Happy Everything! We’re celebrating a movie star holiday in the Clark Gable and Carole Lombard suite at the historic Wolf Creek Inn in Wolf Creek, Oregon!

(Grandpa the Rott and Momi the Golden Retriever are with us courtesy of the techno artistry of Steven Rosenthal)

One year we sent out an elegant card of the Buddhas that sit at the edge of our lotus pond wearing festive Santa hats. People called us up. “Where are the dogs?” they complained. See my soon-to-be renovated website if you want to view the reviled Santa Buddhas (1996) and all 28 of our cards.

It’s almost Christmas in Hawaii, a little chilly in the outdoor shower this morning. Neighbors all have their lights up. The life-size crèche with baby Jesus and complete cast, which also features Santa on the roof of the stable along with sleigh and reindeer, is still our favorite! We live in an equal opportunity neighborhood.

There was another one, really creeped me out, but I haven’t seen it this year so maybe the dread termites did it in. . .  a Rudolph head with red lightbulb nose mounted on the front door of a house on Kam Highway. Here’s the icky part, it was an actual stuffed deer head with little short legs with hooves hanging down in front.

And the very local-style Hau’ula Christmas parade— a red pick-up with some hard miles on it drives around town horn honking, while three guys in red long johns and Santa hats ride in the back, merrily tossing out what appears to be left-over Halloween candy. We all rush out to yell and wave while neighborhood dogs bark and run alongside trying to bite the wheels.

SAVE the Date. This year’s Time Travel event is scheduled for Thursday, January 12 at 6:30 pm at the Elks Club in Honolulu. AND if you don’t live near enough to attend this fabulous event— a visionary meditation which guides you through the events of the coming year— which I’ve been offering each January for many years, there will soon be a do-it-yourself Time Travel Meditation mp3 file available here. . . with a complete set of directions.

 

 

 

 

 

This is me with my new business partner John Sterling Carter, (fondly gazing, then reacting to the computer actually taking pictures!) who is actively promoting and developing a number of my published and unpublished books as movies, tv series, and graphic novels. You can find synopses of all books and selected chapters here.                     .

That’s it. . . thanks for hanging in as I suffer the indignities of technohell. Send me your dreams, questions— “tell me, AliceAnne, what about those sex tips for the spiritually inclined you offered,” or “what did you mean when you said ‘watch out for soul mates?’” or “I want the Deep $$$$ Meditation! Need it Now! Need it Bad!” or any other fascinating and stimulating questions that occur to you.

LOOK at this gorgeous hibiscus blooming in a pot on our lanai! (My foot is there to give perspective of the true size.)

 

 

 

 

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reincarnation in process, tune in next week . . .

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