Sweet Moon Man

On the building that curves around part of Bartel Pritchard Square. I love his cornucopia forelock, his open mouth. How did I miss him for so long?

Roses for Bartel, for Pritchard...

...the namesakes of our square circle here in Windsor Terrace, and Roses for all the others who were killed in wars. Roses also for the victims of 911, for all victims of abuse, who in turn, often become abusers themselves. Poor humanity.

You should stop reading now if you have issues with psychological thought. You might feel some discomfort with what follows. I know "psychologism" is out in many circles.

Marion Woodman writes about the Power Principle and I am trying to understand what she means. I recognize something there, something very sneaky. I'm thinking the Power Principle is the will to cloak our vulnerability so that we don't have to suffer our feelings. We use power to abate our vulnerability. People's power tools vary, in some it's their sheer attractiveness, in others, drugs, coolness, intimidation and charisma, in many, money, who-you-know, status, IQ, talents, I suppose it goes on and on. The Power Principle has implicit and explicit methodology, and its clearest and most heinous appearance in this century was the Nazi's "final solution." In its most common appearance it is the way parents subtly and adamantly suppress a child's authentic state because it scares them. Children can be so wild, so messy. They have REALLY STRONG FEELINGS that they learn to split off into the unconscious territory of their bodies if their parents can't handle it.

Woodman writes: "When the veils that surround the addict are stripped away, the obsessive ritualistic behavior can be seen as protection against unendurable pain.*" That would be pain stemming from psychological and physical child abuse and neglect, I assume.

It seems this "obsessive, ritualistic behavior" involves self abuse or abuse of others, and maintains a self-defeating cycle. Often it's a will to shame, judge, punish others so that we feel better about ourselves, or it's an attraction to things that give only temporary, superficial gratification that distracts from the lurking terror of being and all our self-doubts, guilt, rage and and accusations. It's a chronic will-to-reduce dis-ease, a chronic over-valuation of the concrete, chronic self-reduction.

Marion Woodman would argue that there's something worthwhile on the other side of the pain, on the other side of the wasteland. She has seen it. Sometimes I believe it, sometimes I don't.

Any insight you might have into these questions is appreciated.

*The Pregnant Virgin, page 107.

Icky in Brooklyn says Goodbye

Just like that, he's gone. Hey Icky, I'll really miss your posts. You have definitely left a mark. But maybe not this one, which I found on Bartel Pritchard Square.

If you get tired of shingles and stains and stuff, I'm sure a great many BK people would love to resample your particular discernement. Have fun!

Swollen Graffiti Free Vehicle

Is this vehicle wearing a hazmat suit? Seems like it. I've never seen such succulent tag bait. All that white space seems to say, come on, I dare you.

But seriously, what are these people afraid of? I'm more scared of the new signs being generated by whatever kind of large format machinery people boast of, ones that generate, with the help of Adobe Illustrator, formulaic and dead lettering. I'm scared of that embalmed feeling. Give me the hand any day. Give the taggers some legitimate work.

If you need some visual and verbal refreshment a la the hand, check out Rudayday's storefront churches.

Triangles (and other shapes) in the Circle

This menorah that stands on the North side of Bartel Pritchard Square (circle), greeting cars heading South on Prospect Park West, compels me. The fact that it presents triangles within a circle seems alchemical, and it also reminds me of a Southwestern Indian power motif you might see. It reminds me of a broom or feather duster, which is a fact I find significant as you shall see if you bear with me. It also echoes the forms of the nearly leafless Horse Chestnut trees in the circle, and if you ask me I would wager that a menorah is one of the many tree of life forms you find in sacred traditions.

I learned this year that the menorah for Hanukkah is called a Hanukkiah. See how cute one little "i" can make something? I also learned that Hanukkah means "rededicate," referring to the cleansing and consecration of the temple after it was defiled. I was so happy to discover these facts in a child's sticker book I picked up used at Babbo's.

Knowing this has meant a lot to me and brought me peace for some reason. It brings me the light of a new beginning, the brightness of dawn. Another day rededicated to attuning to the first light. The buoyancey felt after rearranging the furniture.