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Here is another entry. I seem to be harking back to my Turfing (original blogging) days. I am okay with that. I hope that you find this piece… interesting.
A dear on-line friend died a couple of days back. We had always meant to meet in the flesh, but to no avail. Here is to Scott Hales, a kind person. He will be missed. His passing brought up memories of another friend, who I did know in the flesh, Phil Davies. I have included a piece I wrote for him
On The Menu: Nhat Hanh / The Great Tao / Phil Davies - In Memoriam / The Sea-God’sAddress to Bran / Alan Stivell - Ys / Commercial Break!
Read On!
Gwyllm
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“A bodhisattva doesn’t have to be perfect. Anyone who is aware of what is happening and who tries to wake up other people is a bodhisattva. We are all bodhisattvas, doing our best.” – Nhat Hanh
We all are doing our best, I think. I keep working on myself, on the daily hiccups of my limited conscious being. We are Bodhisattva’s, just not aware…
The Great Tao
大道無形 Daidõ mugyõ, The Great Tao is without form,
眞理無對 Shinri mutai, The Absolute is without opposite.
等空不動 Hitoshiku kû fudõ, It is both empty and unmoving,
非生死流 Shõji no nagare ni arazu; It is not within the flow of Samsara.
三界不攝 Sangai fushõ, The Three Realms do not contain it,
非古夾今 Koraikon ni arazu. It is not within past, future, or present.
Nan-ch’üan P’u-yüan (Nansen Fugan 南泉普願)
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Phil Davies - In Memoriam
I wrote this in 2009, just after Phil passed away. He had a wonderful life, hard in parts. His father was a Black GI from Detroit, his mother was a Jewish Girl from Golders Green the two having met in a pub in London, during the War. He was raised in an orphanage, later connecting with his mother & her family, and his father’s family in Detroit. I think that those connections helped him process his early hardships…
For Phil’s Partner Gennaro, for Ley, Cheri & all of Phil’s friends…
Moments in time, telescoping away. The seconds, minutes, the hours, days and years recede.
I first met Phil Davies about 4-5 days after I met Mary in London. We met at the restaurant where Mary was working at, “Buggin’s”, directly across the street from “The Young Vic” on The Cut, near Waterloo Station. I went there to continue my wooing of Mary, and ended up helping out with the holidaze crowds that they were seating. (This was around the 13th of December or so, in 1977) I met Phil in the kitchen where he was doing prep and generally having a great time. We hit it off right away, he had a wicked sense of humour, and he applied it as liberally as he did the sauces he was working with. I ended up doing dishes a couple of nights, so, we were pretty much side by side throughout the evenings. During this time, I was bringing flowers every night to Mary. I was head over heels as the saying goes, and I pressed my case most ardently. Phil was bemused. He would tease Mary, and then later come out to the table where we were sitting sipping Cointreau, smoking cigarettes… staring into each other’s eyes, and up would come Phil, and he’d say, “Okay you two, knock it off”! Sit down and get us talking.
Later on, when Mary had left Buggins, and I had left the Wine Bar (The Green Room) he and Mary opened up a small in-house catering set up in the Antiques area of Knightsbridge, and then he brought Mary to open up a concession for Greg Edwards of Capital Radio via his and Greg’s mutual friend Cheri Class. (I became club manager & head bar-tender) to open up a dance club where Greg and friends would DJ at near Hampstead Heath (the location is a bit fuzzy now…) We all past the summer of 78 in these pursuits together. Lots of good times spent with Phil then.
One of my fondest memories of Phil was when we visited him one time at his flat during summer. Phil was sitting at his table, rolling a spliff of “Black Congolese” wearing a suit with a tie as he was often to be found. We smoked a bit and then ended up in the garden on our hands and knees, sniffing his roses and giggling like mad people. Afterwards of course, he served tea and scones. This is Phil as I remember him.
Really it was a golden period. I learned a lot from his take on life. He was a most gentle and forgiving soul.
When October came, Mary and I were married. Phil was our best man. (The photo of him and others are from the wedding) Shortly after, we moved to L.A., but came back frequently for several years to visit, and to live again in London. I remember going to clubs with Phil, and the myriads of good times we had through that period.
Phil was a master of Tarot. His readings were legendary in London. He was a long-time member of the Golden Dawn, and he more than once remonstrated me on my inability at that time to control my anger and my then misuse of metaphysical principles that I was unaware of. He always did this with affection, and often in frustration. (I got it Phil, I got it!)
Over the years, and our resettling back in the U.S., we lost touch. We finally reconnected through our mutual friend Ley via FB… I was under the impression after learning Phil had cancer, that he was in remission. He and Gennaro visited Ley in France this summer, and it sounded like he was doing well. I was looking forward to visiting him this next year, and reconnecting after all these years. Sadly, this was not to be, he went back into hospital and came home Thursday last for hospice care… Ley informed me on the Monday that if we were to be in touch, now was a time to send a card, which we did. Ley hurried south from Scotland (where he lives most of the year) to help out and all. Phil was in and out of sleeping, and on Friday morning, surrounded by Gennaro, Ley, and other friends he died surrounded by love. If ever a man who personified love, it was Phil. Our card arrived, after he had passed.
Phil was a pivotal friend in my life, and in my relationship to the world. He will be sorely missed by all of those whose lives he touched.
Today, I understand that his funeral and wake was celebrated. Phil requested a cardboard coffin, and our card was one of the decorations on it from what Ley said. On our family altar is a book Phil loaned me which I was going to bring back to him this next year: “Magic Black & White” by Franz Hartmann. Now, I will keep it, and remember the lessons that Phil so freely shared, as well as his deep and abiding humanity.
Phil on the left… Our wedding day in London, October 16th, 1978
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The Messenger of Tethra – John Duncan
The Sea-God’sAddress to Bran
Then on the morrow Bran went upon the sea. When he had been at sea two days and two nights, he saw a man in a chariot coming towards him over the sea. It was Manannan, the son of Ler, who sang these quatrains to him.
To Bran in his coracle it seems
A marvellous beauty across the clear sea:
To me in my chariot from afar
It is a flowery plain on which he rides.
What is a clear sea
For the prowed skiff in which Bran is,
That to me in my chariot of two wheels
Is a delightful plain with a wealth of flowers.
Bran sees
A mass of waves beating across the clear sea:
I see myself in the Plain of Sports
Red-headed flowers that have no fault.
Sea-horses glisten in summer
As far as Bran can stretch his glance:
Rivers pour forth a stream of honey
In the land of Manannan, son of Ler.
The sheen of the main on which thou art,
The dazzling white of the sea on which thou rowest about—
Yellow and azure are spread out,
It is a light and airy land.
Speckled salmon leap from the womb
Out of the white sea on which thou lookest:
They are calves, they are lambs of fair hue,
With truce, without mutual slaughter.
Though thou seest but one chariot-rider
In the Pleasant Plain of many flowers,
There are many steeds on its surface,
Though them thou seest not.
Large is the plain, numerous is the host,
Colours shine with pure glory,
A white stream of silver, stairs of gold
Afford a welcome with all abundance.
An enchanting game, most delicious,
They play over the luscious wine,
Men and gentle women under a bush,
Without sin, without transgression.
Along the top of a wood
Thy coracle has swum across ridges,
There is a wood laden with beautiful fruit
Under the prow of thy little skiff.
A wood with blossom and with fruit
On which is the vine’s veritable fragrance,
A wood without decay, without defect,
On which is a foliage of a golden hue.
We are from the beginning of creation
Without old age, without consummation of clay,
Hence we expect not there might be frailty—
Transgression has not come to us.
Steadily then let Bran row!
It is not far to the Land of Women:
Evna with manifold bounteousness
He will reach before the sun is set.
Translated by Kuno Meyer
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Commercial Break:
Well, I have been back working on Blotter Prints. 4 new ones! I am really excited about the selection of these Blotter Pieces, as they hit the button for me regarding the artistic path I have followed, and
Bodhisattava #109/40.00 & 5.00 S&H
A real departure for my work with Blotter Art. Bodhisattava #109 began as a painting back in the early/mid 90’s. Like any physical work that I produce it took months. ADHD and all of that. The painting was produced in the apex of our mushroom explorations, and cultivations… The media used: India Ink/Pen & Ink, Water Colour, Airbrush… A longtime favourite of mine.
Indra's Web II #109/40.00 & 5.00 S&H
This is the second iteration of “Indra’s Web” If I recall correctly the original was released in 2003, the second blotter piece that I did with Adam Stanhope. I decided to redo the piece, updating it with a different palette. I think it turned out nicely
Universal Convergence / 40.00 & 5.00 S&H
I spent 10 months off and on creating “Universal Convergence”. Another in my Mandala Series, employing a glorified Pointillist technique. India Ink, Acrylics, Coloured Pencils & Water Colours went into creating this take on the Universe. Imagine each bubble as a discreet universe. Yep.
Varanasi Vimana / 40.00 & 5.00 S&H
Before he died, my friend Jim Harter sent me two books printed in 1846 of lithographic illustrations of India. This piece came out of those books. I started the Vimana series some 20 years ago. One of those ongoing things, thought processes that just kind of happens.
I had always been fascinated since reading about them in “The Morning of the Magicians” back in my late teens. I later found references to them in the Vedas, as well as the Vaimānika Śāstra (वैमानिक शास्त्र which probably was the source for the reportage in “The Morning of the Magicians”.
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Thank you for Reading! More entries soon.
Bright Blessings,
Gwyllm
I'm deeply touched by such kindness.
Great homage to your dear friend
Luv the Tim Leary painting.