From selenite to moon glow to reflecting on ways to become improved humans, we can’t forget our shadow side as well as our bright lovelight.
Carl Jung believed that we needed to see, understand, embrace, and accept our shadow side to become a fully integrated and fully functional human.
As much work as that seems to be to self reflect, with the full moon in a few days, I think it might be time to bring home another piece of selenite, don’t you?
For me, a little retail therapy is a bit more enlightening and illuminating than wallowing in sadness and guilt. At least, it’s less painful…
Autumn is a bittersweet season for me. I love cooler nights, but the earlier and earlier sunsets are depressing.
The falling of leaves is a sign of death. All over my garden, plants are transitioning into their end of life, slowing their growth and dying. This is the time I rake and rake and rake.
I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I read that at the exact moment of the Autumnal Equinox, the sun shines directly on the equator, and an enormous “snake of sunlight” is said to slither down the stairs of the Mayan pyramid at Chichen Itza in Mexico. How cool would it be to actually visit there and experience this amazing event!
Also tonight “the moon is void of course.” I don’t know what that actually MEANS, but it sounds so snarky, contemptuous, and dismissive — even taunting — like OF COURSE the moon is void, how stupid can you be!
Or…it could be me simply being ultra sensitive to any slight or attack on my intelligence. Here’s what it really means…The void of course moon occurs when the moon makes its final major aspect with another planet before changing signs, which means the moon will now be in Libra.
To Autumn by John Keats
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
I’m involved in a search, rescue, and release mission because a baby lizard somehow sneaked in the house.
Right now he’s lying low, evading my efforts to liberate him, lurking behind the sofa.
I’ve tried everything; this isn’t the first time it’s happened, but so far I’m not successful in this rescue and release.
And that means neither is that lizard because there’s nothing for him to eat here – no flies, worms, caterpillars, nada.
I’m only trying to help.
I cleaned behind the sofa and now there’s no dust, either.
WHERE ARE YOU, LIZARD?
A brief Google search let me know that lizards symbolize resurrection, rebirth, and regeneration. In Egyptian hieroglyphics, the symbol of the lizard was representative of plentiful abundance. A lizard in one’s house is often seen to represent an old friend or acquaintance, reminding you of their spirit.
The next morning…still no sign of this lizard, but I’m still looking. I haven’t given up yet.
Just after noon, I almost stepped on this little lizard as he was well camouflaged on a floral rug, but he made a wise choice to reveal his location. I grabbed a plastic container, pushed him in, and ran outside to set him free.
6:30 a.m. and already 85 degrees. There are some monsoonal clouds drifting by and a bit of wind, but no rain.
I don’t think the temp has ever been this high this early, not that I can remember, anyway.
We are in an extended high heat warning. It was nearly one hundred degrees yesterday. Scorching, brutally hot.
It’s not often that we have humidity but that’s what made it all so unpleasant. Several records were broken. Climate change, anyone?
It was too hot to go outside. Because of the fires around here, air quality was poor.
And then critters started invading the house.
I heard the raucous chirping of a cricket and located the sound coming from the dining room.
Then, the family room was invaded by dozens of diminutive flying insects that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.
A lizard clung to the patio screen door. I told him it wasn’t any cooler inside–there’s no air conditioning and he’d fare better by hiding in the shade of a rock.
I filled a bowl with water for my bobcat and coyote family.
On my walk home from the beach, near the train tracks, I looked down and saw this fork in the road.
A single fork with nothing else around it; not a flimsy plastic utensil from takeaway, but a silver fork with a blue handle, part of set, I’m sure.
Thank goodness it was pointing in the same direction I was heading, because if not, that would have definitely caused me to stop and ponder my next step.
I’m not sure what, if any symbolism I’m supposed to glean from this random fork in the road, but I’m relieved to have quite possibly been given a heavenly sign that I was on the right path.
Regardless, it was the route that would eventually bring me home — and for me, like Dorothy, there’s no place like home.
I left it there to help guide others on their own journey, but I did bring home a silky black raven’s feather to add to my collection.
Whether you followed his recent trial or not, whether you agreed with the verdict or not (although with all the credible evidence provided along with a stellar legal team, how could you NOT), I can speculate with almost 100% certainty that you’ve heard of Johnny Depp.
Whilst I was recovering from the after effects of my second Covid booster (body aches, headache, fever) I was playing around with the channels on my new TV and discovered a million episodes of 21 Jump Street.
Warning: this might become a rambling, incoherent series of unrelated thoughts. I intend to blame it on the way my body reacts to vaccinations.
I remember the show and vaguely recall the character Depp portrayed, but was in the middle of my mom years so I didn’t really have time for anything except being a 24/7 mom. However, no matter what the storyline or who the other actors were, for me it was only and all about Johnny Depp.
If he had been a crappy actor, it honestly wouldn’t have mattered one single bit, but he wasn’t just another pretty face, more expressively beautiful than most — and even in that formulaic sitcom, his acting was nuanced and he had a finely tuned sense of humor. (And that hair.)
He might now own the title of one of the world’s biggest stars, but there seems to be something surprisingly authentic, genuine, and REAL about him — down to earth in spite of or maybe because of any eccentricity. I say “seems to be” because we’ve never met, so I can’t say for sure.
“You can close your eyes to the things you don’t want to see, but you can’t close your heart to the things you don’t want to feel.” —Johnny Depp
In my feverish state, I decided to try and unravel the magical mystery of Johnny Depp’s timeless attraction from his twenties to now at the age of fifty-nine.
Why did we all rally to support him during the trial? Why do we feel as if we are, as he says, his relatives?
Dedicated Depp fans travelled from all over the country to support him in court, standing in line for hours.
They’re buying and selling out his Dior Sauvage Elixir cologne.
They’re loud and proud on every social media platform; they’re at his concerts, they’re rewatching all of his films.
What is it? What is it about Johnny Depp?
I need to figure this out, at least before my fever breaks or the Benadryl kicks in and I fall asleep.
I believe his appeal goes far beyond looks and charisma.
There’s just something about him that defies explanation and maybe that’s the answer. His magical allure defies explanation.
I’m not fangirling here, I swear. I never had a true celebrity crush, not even on Brad Pitt who is pretty cute and a good actor.
Wait a minute. To be completely candid, back (way back) when I was in high school, it was Jim Morrison who touched my teenaged heart (I’ve written about that before) and even though I acted in a few films, no one ever ignited my fantasy-state until Johnny Depp came along, and not in a must-have-his-autograph or a hug or throw-my-bra-on-the-stage kind of way, more like I’d be content to pour us a glass of wine (or a mega-pint) and have a conversation with him, an exchange of thoughts and ideas, but it’d be REALLY hard not to also rudely stare at him. I wonder if he feels his face has been a burden.
I would like to ask him how he feels about the genetically random exterior arrangement of his facial features that causes women and men to feel like this Twitter poster: “that chiseled face or the eyes you can melt in”.
I’m mystified and I’m trying to suss it out. His eyes, lips, nose, cheekbones, eyebrows, voice; these things we all possess, but in Johnny Depp’s case, they crystalize into a human package that conjures up intensely personal devotion and loyalty, and a lot of screaming fans at his concerts.
After Nightmare on Elm Street and Platoon and Cry-baby (and especially that kissing scene), I was hooked, even though I’m aware that it was a John Waters parody spoofing Elvis movies and the juvenile delinquency scare films of the fifties,
He epitomizes the vulnerable, misunderstood bad boy with a heart.
Johnny Depp possesses a certain charming childlike, naive, and innocent quality — not childISH, but a childLIKE wonderment. I’ve also been accused of being childlike because I find neverending joy in things like butterflies and seashells and animals so I can relate.
I’m not wearing rose-colored glasses and I don’t ignore reports of his admitted drug use and alcohol consumption and other behaviors that I don’t share, but he exudes natural charm and charisma and intelligence and humor. Those are indisputable facts.
Could anything be more perfect than the Benny & Joon scene with JD’s homage interpretation of the Chaplin dinner roll dance? I think not.
How about What’s Eating Gilbert Grape with Leonardo diCaprio and the steamy scenes with Mary Steenburgen? Here’s a quote from Steenburgen: “And, oh my God, I loved doing What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. Who wouldn’t love kissing Johnny Depp all day?”
Maybe the director said it best…LasseHallström pickedDepp to play Gilbert Grape because of the way he could express so much emotion through his face and eyes. As an aside, I was happy to see Kevin Tighe from Emergency! as the husband.
Here’s a few of my other favorite Depp films: Edward Scissorhands, Don Juan deMarco, Chocolat, Blow, Once Upon a Time in Mexico, The Secret Window, and The Tourist. I enjoyed his accurate portrayals in Donnie Brasco and Public Enemies, but I’m not fond of violence so I usually fastforward during those scenes. The next one I’ll watch is Minamata.
It’s funny, I’ve only watched clips of his Pirates franchise, but I’ll most likely queue them up too. He makes all of his characters spring to life and they become him and he becomes them, in every film, even the early ones.
As for his personal life, I was only vaguely aware that he lived in France, had a couple of children, played guitar, was friendly with Marlon Brando, and owned an island. I sort of remember hearing that he had a nightclub in LA and was in a band called the Hollywood Vampires, but I was too busy with my own life to focus on his.
I didn’t know he had gotten married until I heard that his now ex-wife had accused him of abuse in 2016, but I never really believed it — after all, it seemed out of character as he had never been accused of anything like that during or after his previous relationships.
It wasn’t until her op-ed in 2018 that I started to foment thoughts that he was being targeted and falsely accused because at the time, everyone was jumping on the #MeToo bandwagon. I had experienced my own #MeToo moment in the past with a casting director so I was sympathetic to the cause.
And then there was the trial. I’ve written about that hereand here.
Like millions of others, I was mesmerized by Johnny’s testimony, impressed by how he could talk about that incredibly painful childhood with dignity, grace, authenticity, and candor. And humor.
After that, attorney Camille Vasquez guided him through excruciatingly personal details about the physical abuse he suffered by his ex wife and that made me respect him even more. It couldn’t have been easy for any man to be so publicly vulnerable and admit he was a victim of intimate partner violence.
At the end of the trial, Johnny Depp won. With the verdict on June 1, the jury overwhelmingly sent a message that he had been defamed with malicious intent.
More random commentary: “He is yummy on a visceral level – wild, those cheekbones, his penetrating gaze from those soulful eyes.”
“His dark features and his phenomenal bone structure: his cheekbones, his jaw , his eyes and his hair. Oh and his nose ! He just beautiful!!! He s crazy handsome.”
He continues to win as he tours Europe with the legendary musician Jeff Beck.
Interestingly, I discovered that as far back as 2016, there was research into the “Depp Effect.”
“Trying to figure out what makes a person attractive has been a hot topic in the scientific community: Do pheromones draw us to others, or face shape, or certain mannerisms? Researchers from several institutions continue the quest with their most recent question — are male faces with feminine features considered attractive? Scientists from the University of Otago, Warwick Business School, and the University of California, San Diego set out to examine the “Johnny Depp Effect,”which involves women tending to prefer men with feminine faces. Their researchrevealed that this effect holds water in some situations, but not all.“https://www.medicaldaily.com/johnny-depp-feminine-androgynous-375978
I disagree with their premise that Johnny Depp has feminine or even androgynous features. He is simply a one-of-a-kind rarity that absolutely defies being placed in a category.
Did I unravel the enigma? Nope. Did I solve the mystery? Also nope. At the end of the day, I think I have to admit that there isn’t a way to rationally explain Johnny Depp. He’s a combination of many enigmatic factors, but the bottom line is how much his essence resonates with all of us.
He is who he is, and I wish him every happiness.
Finally, this from Dakota Johnson, “Working with Johnny Depp was the most gratifying and inspiring thing I’ve ever done. The atmosphere on set was pretty dark, but Johnny was….he is a unicorn”
I had to go down to the airport which is about forty miles away, not because I was going anywhere or picking anybody up, but to take care of some business.
We have horrible public transportation here in Southern California but I heard there was a new free airport shuttle, so I thought I’d be an adventurer and try it out. It would save gas and save the hassle of finding a place to park.
The first step would be to take the Coaster from Carlsbad to another station where the airport shuttle would be. The problem with that is so few times on the Coaster schedule meant the entire process would take approximately six hours or more.
I decided to drive down to the Sorrento Valley train station. After I drove around for about ten minutes until I located the parking lot, I called the shuttle and asked where it stopped. I was informed that I was at the wrong station (my bad) and would either have to wait forever for the Coaster, or drive down to the Old Town station, which I did.
Upon arriving at the Old Town station, I couldn’t figure out WHERE THE EFFING parking lot was. There were no signs, no arrows, nothing that directed me to anywhere to park my car to take the free airport shuttle.
Since I was now ALMOST at the effing airport, actually only two exits away on the freeway, I got back on the road, drove to the airport, and found a place to park my car. They’ve totally torn apart Terminal One so it was a good thing I needed to be at Terminal Two or I would have ended up turning back around and heading home without accomplishing my mission.
In the parking lot, I asked a gentleman how to get to the terminal because THERE WERE NO SIGNS. He started to point in a direction, thought better of it, and kindly walked me to an unmarked spot where I could cross the street and head up a flight of UNMARKED stairs to a skybridge that eventually connected with the terminal.
It wasn’t a very busy day and there weren’t too many people, which was great because I tend to get disoriented in crowds.
After all that driving I had to use the restroom and while I was washing my hands, a nice airport employee told me I looked like I needed some help and I started laughing because I didn’t know anyone could see into my mind. I told her where I was going and she said I was in the wrong place and if I walked about ten miles and up another flight of stairs, I might locate my destination. I followed her directions and ended up walking from one end of the terminal to the next with no luck.
I was close to admitting defeat and trying to find my way back to my car when I spotted an information booth. When I asked the VERY KIND LADY how to get to where I was going, she said she’d take me so I didn’t get lost again and escorted me in an entirely different direction UP another flight of steps until we arrived at the Clear kiosk, where she handed me over to another patient and delightful person who helped me finish the eye scan and fingerprint process so that all my future travels would be expedited.
Whew! I was certainly relieved to be done with THAT, but now I had to figure out how to get back to my car. I accepted the very real possibility that I’d be wandering around the airport all day. I was all twisted around and didn’t know what level of the terminal I was on or what door I needed to exit.
I remembered that I saw a sign for the USO near where I parked so I located yet another airport employee and asked for directions to the USO where I hoped I’d find something familiar. When he showed me the proper crosswalk, all the pieces fell into place. I retraced my steps back where I had spoken to the original helpful stranger, and lo and behold, there was my car!
After driving around and around in the parking lot because I couldn’t find the POORLY marked exit, I paid $6 for the privilege of feeling incredibly dumb in my attempts to navigate the big city.
Like Blanche DuBois, “Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
Everyone was lovely and courteous. Thank you all, and I’m even happier and more grateful to be home.
Now I need to plan some travels to make this travesty of a day worthwhile.
What I learned is that public transportation here is even more horrible than I remembered and there’s a lot of room for improvement, especially with signage.
I may have confessed this before but I can’t remember when or even if I actually did, so apologies if you heard this story before…
The subject of body odor came up recently when my son was looking through my medicine cabinets because he forgot his deodorant and was hunting for mine. (We’re all about sharing is caring around here.)
I reminded him that I have NEVER used deodorant because I don’t need it; never did, and all that proves is that he NEVER listens to me because I know I’ve shared that with him a million times. (The absent-minded professor cliche and all that entails is a real thing.)
I have zero body odor.
I mean, I smell GOOD thanks to Chanel, but even if I’ve been working out at the gym or at the end of an all day hike, I never small bad. Most of the time I don’t even sweat, but if I do, I still don’t smell bad. It’s true.
I remember back when all the grown up changes were happening to my body and my mom gave me THE TALK and we went shopping for THE THINGS. She told me it was also time to use deodorant and we picked out a really cool one (mother-daughter fun times) along with presents for reaching a milestone (and you can see where I acquired my love for shopping!)
I dutifully added deodorant to my daily self care routine but I slowly realized that I didn’t need it. It made no difference to my body’s odors. I just didn’t have one, nor did I perspire. When I told my mom and had her SMELL me at random times, she was surprised but agreed, and as a nurse, her professional response to me was that I was a medical miracle.
I never purchased nor used another deodorant, not even when I was pregnant and my body was going through a million hormonal surges.
Since there was no Google, there was nowhere to research this unusual phenomenon. I wish my mom was here now so I could tell her what I’ve learned about the genetic factors that cause someone NOT to emanate an unpleasant body odor.
In fact, the gene wasn’t even discovered until the 2000s. It also has something to do with having dry as opposed to wet ear wax but that’s too gross for me to think about.
You were right, Mom! I really am a medical miracle!
The ABCC11 protein is important in transporting small molecules across membranes in secretory cells. Mutations in this gene will lead to dryer earwax and decreased body odor. Mutations in the ABCC11 gene may also lead to a decreased risk of breast cancer.
Two percent of people carry an unusual form of a specific gene (ABCC11) that means their armpits never smell.
What I find really interesting is that East Asian and Native American people were already known to have a form of the ABCC11 gene compared with other ethnicities, and as far as I know, I am neither of those. I haven’t done any genetic testing on myself to be sure, but I kinda doubt it.
My DNA is pretty much 100% Jewish princess.
I also know that I didn’t pass that genetic anomaly to my son because he definitely NEEDS deodorant. Most definitely, which is why he was searching in my bathroom. (Sorry, Angel Boy!)
The finding came from research involving 6,495 women who were enrolled in the Children of the 90s study at the University of Bristol, England and was published in the Journal of Investigative Dermatology.
In the study, 117 (2%) of the subjects were lucky enough to carry this gene that allowed them to never have to worry about using deodorant.
People with the ABCC11 non-functioning gene variant have dry earwax and little or no body odor. People with a functioning ABCC11 gene usually have wet earwax and body odor. I didn’t know there was a connection, did you?
ABCC11 is required for the transport of lipophilic substances, bile acids, conjugated steroids, and – most importantly – the component found in apocrine sweat and earwax, which results in odor and wet earwax. Again, gross…
The transporter doesn’t work for people who have loss-of-function genetic variants and thus doesn’t transfer the odor-causing lipids into their armpits.
One day I might do my DNA profile to try and figure out how I acquired this genetic deviation, but for now, I will just be happy to be an enchanted mutant princess who smells really, really good, like a rose!
The last time I traveled to visit the Angels, I packed a bag full of gifts but also a little baggie of steel wool pads infused with soap.
From previous visits, I recalled that there were none and nothing works better on pots and pans and glass dishes than a good scrub with steel wool, one of many life hacks I learned from my mom.
A couple of days after I arrived, DIL asked me where I found them, and when I told her they were packed in my bag and I had brought them, she started laughing.
Apparently, HER mom brought a bag of them from England the last time she visited, and showed DIL how they worked and what a valuable little cleaning tool they were.
I learned it from MY mom and DIL’s mom learned it from her mom, too.
It was a funny moment of cleaning secrets passed down from one generation to another; apparently this new gen can still benefit from the teachings of the elders.
After a little elbow grease, this sixty-year-old pan which originally belonged to my mom and now lives with the kids and is still going strong, will sparkle and shine.
Mercury is doing its retrograde thing from May 10 to June 2.
This is so weird. My newish computer — a generous gift from the kids — suddenly locked me out.
Nothing I tried seemed to work so I called Apple and an extremely patient person helped me for more than an hour to go through the steps to recover access. None of the usual fixes seemed to work for him and he was stymied too, as there didn’t seem to be a mechanical or software reason to explain this glitch.
Finally, as he mirrored my device (with my permission), we were able to unlock the password protections.
It’s all fixed now, thank goodness, but I checked, and sure enough, Mercury is in retrograde which MIGHT explain how and why it happened.
FYI: this is a good time to back up all of your technology! It’s common to have files go missing, technology crashes, or software malfunctions during this time. Better safe than sorry, right?
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 