Solstice

The turning of the year - I love this photo:

Click for bigger.

And a thought for the coming year:

Jimmy's End

I've just watched this brilliant film Written By the great Alan Moore.

It's a half hour film available free online.

See it.

Happy Crowleymas!

It's that time of year again . . .

Time to post this:

Sometimes . . .

 . . . it feels like the past is all I have to look forward to.

OK, that's the miserable whingeing old bastard bit out of the way!

C & A

Alys in other poses . . .

I like this one, there's a sort of relaxed dreaminess with 'Hey, it's my cunt, enjoy . . .'

And this was something I enjoyed, before and after it was taken . . .

click for bigger

Alys, again

I've mentioned Alys before and she has been around a couple of times since to the mutual satisfaction of both of us . . .

She's lovely . . .

Click for bigger.

Behind These Eyes

This book is by a dear friend of mine, someone I've known for more than 20 years - A lovely lady.
 It's unshrinkingly honest, and well-written. Do read it.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/210799

Changes

I've been trying to think of elegant ways to say this, or perhaps a suitable quote, but that seems like nonsense, so I'll just say it:

Mocuar and I have gone our seperate ways.

It's virtually impossible to talk about something like this without resorting to cliches, so I won't try. We've been having problems for a while, nothing to do with the sexual or magickal stuff, more personality problems. I haven't mentioned it here because, I suppose, I was hoping that it would be resolved. sadly, it wasn't. It would need a book to explain it all and, frankly. I really don't want to. Suffice to say that she has decided that she has to be on her own, and has gone off to do that. 

I miss her, incredibly.  Mostly I miss the companionship, the sharing of simple things. We had nine and a half years together and I'm grateful for that. There is an empty place in my life which may never be filled again in the complete way she did it, but life has to go on.

Being 60+ has some advantages - one is that you realise that life really is too short - I will do my grieving, as and when it comes, but I don't have the time to spend years sunk in misery, waiting for things to turn around. I have to engage with life. I will take what comfort I can, where I can, whether that's music, poetry or an amiable submissive woman.

As the man said 'Turn and face the strange changes'.

Damn Right

Beauty

The winner of this year's BP portrait award.
 Isn't she lovely?
Nudity is for all . . .

Details here

Who Knows Where The Time Goes

Just realised I haven't posted in over a month and found myself thinking about where the hell the time went - which naturally led me to this song by the luminous Sandy Denny, who I've posted about here. As well as being a superb songwriter, she was one of the great female voices. I never tire of listening to her.

Jung Interview

I stumbled across this today - recorded in 1960, a year before he died. Absolutely fascinating:

Holy Days Of Thelema

Yesterday was the first of The Holy Days Of Thelema.

'The Thelemic Holy Season starts on March 20th, when Aleister Crowley, back in 1904, invoked Horus in Cairo with the Supreme Ritual and officially founded Thelema, bringing in the Aeon of Horus.'

Now it just happens that it was also our wedding anniversary - we were married on March 20th 2004 - exactly a hundred years from Crowley's ritual, something we feel rather pleased about. Not that we realised it at the time, we picked the date as being as close to the spring equinox as we could get.

I love synchronicity . . .

Nudity as Protest (continued)

I've commented on this before - here and Here.

Now we have a group of brave Iranian women Here doing the same thing.

Also This, the Nude Photo Revolutionaries Calendar.

A page from it:

Click for bigger.

Magick, pure Magick.

Mocuar's just gone shopping . . .

. . . and I've padlocked her rings, like so:

She likes wandering around the supermarket thinking about how many other people she walks past might be similarly adorned. She also likes the fact that it's a physical reminder of the Nature Of Her Being.

Simple pleasures . . .

Moths

In the process of tidying up some old documents, I came across this. Something I wrote about 14 years ago, and had completely forgotten about. Odd how I sometimes read my old writings and find it hard to believe that I wrote them.
 It's a bit wordy, but I can't bring myself to dump it . . .

Moths

The light-hungry moths assault the window

Attracted, it’s said, by the moon-resemblance of electric glow

Is this true? Are they so stupid?

Or does our perception lag behind that which they know?

These questions unanswerable of course

Posed by fools, poets or scientists who divorce

Their seeing-eye from dreaming

Of a pinned-down truth, their only resource.

For my part, I speculate (as I stare into the night)

Perhaps it is light alone they desire - any light

Drawn by the call of an erotic grail

And the promise of a luminescent bite

If this is so, we have much to fear

Light blinds and burns if we stray too near

Its incandescent sanctuary

We are so easily destroyed by that which we revere.

I am an exhibitionist . . .

. . . And Mocuar is my exhibit (and a very lovely one too).

Click for bigger

Babalon Poem

From the excellent Temple Of Babalon site:


On the Threshold of the Gods
The night sky beckons with familiarity
Yet is speaks with a voice of old
In a tone that is but forgotten 

This is an age of darkness
Not the darkness of the Mother
But the darkness of despair
The time has come to reawaken 

Harken, O Spirits
For it is Me who calls
Come forth to my waiting
My arms are extended, to welcome you home 

It is I, whose voice has been forgotten
Who calls you forth
For I love you, I love you
Come, I am waiting 

And with my hands upon your face
I shall kiss your forehead
And you will remember
The glory that we shared 

For it is I, the one who loves you
The one whom you have longed for
Who comes into your dreams
And leaves you wakened--hungry 

I call to thee, my servants
To those who dare to come to me
I beckon to your fire
I lust for your desire 

To those who can remember
The days we shared together
Before it was torn asunder
By those who came to conquer 

I have been long in waiting
For those who longed to remember
But never dared to see
For fear of retribution 

For they have buried me in their shadows
The shadows of their cross and star
They stole from me my power
They stole from you my pride 

Murderous, they strike at me still
In the heart of every woman
And the soul of every man
The time is now at hand 

Join with me, my children
Feel me open your heart
It is time to be free again
It is time to be realized. 

Display

Mocuar likes displaying her cunt. 

She recently decided, as a magickal act, that she wanted to graphically display herself on the net. We're on a site featuring the local BDSM scene, and she liked the idea that anyone we met, who'd seen her pics, would have seen, as she put it 'the whole me'. She saw it as a way of liberating her from conventional hangups  about body image etc. As she put it, "I want to be free of all that crap"

This is the picture she chose:

Click for bigger.

Wise As A Serpent

'Wise As A Serpent' A mind-fuckingly stunning song from Gerry Rafferty. Such a shame that he's no longer with us. It's been running around my head for days. Look it up.   Beautiful.

Alys

It's always nice when old friends come round to play . . .

The lovely Alys has been a dear friend for a long time, but with one thing and another, we've never got round to doing the deed.

This was rectified yesterday.

Quote

I was looking for a juicy quote to start the year rolling - I found this.

  Anything which can be seen as poetry is its own justification.  If you view it as something ugly,then that's what it becomes. If you can sing its beauty, then that is all there is. And your soul is the soul of poetry. If you remember that, you are free to do things which would horrify the timid and the trite.

 This is from a short story by the wonderful Marco Vassi. His writing is dripping with sex magickal energy and a lot of good kinky stuff. Highly recommended.