Winter Solstice, or Yule was a few days ago. Here’s wishing you joy and safety as we start returning to the light.
Winter Solstice, or Yule was a few days ago. Here’s wishing you joy and safety as we start returning to the light.
Even though most of the U.S. is in quarantine, we can still celebrate the arrival of Spring. In our own ways – or least try to. Yesterday was May Day, also known as Beltane.
Squeaky Squeakums and her demon buddy Magnus Maximus did a little Caturday dance around the maypole.
If you liked what you saw, you can order my comic ‘The Temptation of Squeaky‘ through my reopened Etsy shop. Already sold out of a few items, but will restock soon. All proceeds will go towards paying my bills.
Although I never promoted my account, I’m on Patron. All donations would be greatly appreciated at this time. Check back because I plan to update my Patron account very soon.
Here’s an illustration finished earlier today. It’s archangel Michael, better known as St. Michael. Done in pen, ink, regular watercolor and shimmer watercolor. Too bad the scan doesn’t pick up on the shimmer paints.
Here’s a prayer for St. Michael, Roman Catholic version:
“Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and the other evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.”
In a previous post, I talked about the passing of Genesis Breyer P-Orridge. Gen passed away almost a month after S/He celebrated h/er 70th Lesser Feast, aka birthday.
I first heard about Psychic TV way back during high school. This was during the ’80s. It was nearly the height of my Siouxsie wannabe phaze, which actually last a few years. (During high school, I was a Siouxsie clone.) By this point I was hopping around all the import record shops down in NYC’s Greenwich Village area. I remember all of the Temple Record releases. I believe this might’ve been the era where Psychic TV tried to release 23 albums, on the 23rd day for 23 months. Already the PTV brand caught my eye.
One day, a friend told me a mutual friend of ours took her to see Psychic TV over at The (old) Ritz, which is where Webster Hall now stands. Her assessment wasn’t much. She called them ‘pretentious.’ Looking back, her attention span probably was due to the lack of the ‘cute’ guy factor. Despite her negative review, this only peaked my interest more. My disregard for her scoffing was proven correct. This ‘friend’ later went from being Goth to chasing after all those tacky hair metal glam bands of the late ’80s. Don’t ever trust a Guns n Roses fan.
The turning point was a purchase of the seminal RE/Search book Modern Primitives. Before tattoos, piercings and body modification were accepted in the mainstream, the underground movement was documented by V.Vale. After purchasing the book from See/Hear, I discovered a new world. Among those interviewed were Genesis P-Orridge and his first wife, formerly known as Paula P-Orridge. It wasn’t just tattoos they discussed. Through this book, I discovered many other worlds. I believe this was one of the first times I heard about Alister Crowley and William S. Burroughs. After reading about the frequency of the number 23, I started seeing 23s everywhere. Maybe it was my subconsciousness bringing it on. Later I discovered The 23 Current. It was my introduction to the esoteric, or occulture.
After barely graduating high school, I started collecting Psychic TV albums. Similarly I learned about the Thee Temple Ov Psychick Youth. I sent away for information. The instructions received wasn’t something I was prepared for – although I kept that manual for many years. (Might even still own it)
Finally had a chance to see Psychic TV live in NYC, year 1991. This was during their ‘Acid House’ era. To this day it still remains one of the best concerts I saw in my life. Why I say this. Looking back on the concert, it wasn’t the performance, but the vibe, the energy. It’s only now I realize that concert might’ve altered my life. My perceptions slowly started to change. Still, it wasn’t until many years later when I decided to act upon my influences.
As the ’90s went on, my life switched directions. Psychic TV wasn’t on my radar so much. Occasionally I brought scattered PTV releases, such as a (now) rare spoken word CD which was later *stolen* (a-hem). In the meantime, Gen, Paula and their two daughters had to go into exile. After settling in California, Gen and Paula divorced.
In California, Genesis P-Orridge later got into a nasty accident while hanging out with the British band Love & Rockets. Escaping a fire, Genesis later sued record producer Rick Rubin, winning a large financial sum.
Didn’t get into Psychic TV again until maybe around the early 2000s. By then, Gen had moved to NYC, met Lady Jaye, and a new chapter developed. It was known as the ‘Pandrogeny Project.’
In summer 2007, I saw Psychic TV live for the second time. The concert was at The Bowery Ballroom. I had just arrived back from Kansas City to NYC. It was the end of a chapter in my own personal life. During this gig, Lady Jaye was in the background playing the tambourine, as the latest incarnation of Psychic TV, now known as PTV3, embraced a more guitar psychedelic vibe. Video montages of the Pandrogeny couple flickered on stage as the band performed.
Unfortunately Lady Jaye dropped her body that same year. I managed to catch this incarnation of PTV3, just in time.
After Lady Jaye’s death, Genesis Breyer P-Orridge continued with Psychic TV. I saw Gen’s spoken word performances numerous times during this period. (One spoken word project was known as Thee Majesty.) Once was when Gen was on the same bill as (early) Cold Cave and Boyd Rice. It was commemorating the anniversary of the Manson murders. The last spoken word GPO performance I saw was in 2015. S/He opened up for Japanese noise musician Merzbow. Gen’s whole set was really about Lady Jaye, eight years after her death. It was the saddest I’ve seen Gen. Afterwards, Gen walked on stage in the middle Merzbow’s set, no reason given. S/He stood there for a few minutes, then walked off. That was it. The concert version of “photo bombing.” My words the next day: ‘Gen is not a well woman.’
In 2016, Gen had an extensive exhibit at the Rubin Museum, Try To Altar Everything.
Winter 2019. I decided to see Cold Cave in concert again, partly because Psychic TV was booked to be the opening act. This was never meant to be. At this point, Gen was diagnosed with leukemia. The night of the concert, Genesis was much too ill to perform. PTV had no choice but cancel their set last minute.
That’s when I knew Gen didn’t have too long to live.
Luckily, Gen found a new love, who supported not only Gen emotionally, but was comfortable living with Lady Jaye’s memory.
Now it’s 2020, a year of chaos and uncertainly. While COVID-19 was just starting to be acknowledged as a serious threat, news broke about Gen’s passing. Just happen to be cruising through Instagram, when I stumbled upon a post by Cold Cave. Genesis Breyer P-Orridge went on to H/She’s Greater Feast on Gen’s death was expected, but it still left a void. Despite all the controversies, (people have told me over the years how S/he screwed many people over), Gen still broke boundaries, influencing many worldwide. It’s this blog post that I acknowledge the crucial influence GPO had upon me.
Here’s an illustration I did the other night. It’s Genesis P-Orridge from s/he early PTV days. Around the time Thee Temple of Psychick Youth was formed.
The next and final GPO post will focus on COUM Transmissions and mainly, Throbbing Gristle. Stay tuned.
Even if you live under a rock, you know about COVID-19. While the pandemic is taking hold of the U.S., news of a different sort was reported. On March 14, 2020, Genesis P-Orridge, best known for S/Her work with Coum Transmissions, Throbbing Gristle, Psychic TV, T.O.P.Y., and the Pandrogeny Project, passed away. P-Orridge was 70.
Love and/or hate the person, Genesis P-Orridge was many: performance artist, musician, occultist, ‘cult/anti-cult’ leader, archivist, author, poet. To simplify, let’s just say Genesis was a life long agent provocateur. The word boundaries wasn’t in Gen’s vocabulary. With that, P-Orridge not only broke them, but influenced generations of other fringe creators in the process.
Genesis P- Orridge did more in a day than most people achieve in a lifetime. For me personally, through Gen, I learned about mail art, William S Burroughs, Brion Gysin, Alister Crowley, the occult, cult philosophies, tattoos, body modification, and numerous other sub-cultures and ‘alternative lifestyles.’ Mind you, this is only scratching the surface.
It’s going to take more than one blog post to explain the impact of Genesis P-Orridge. To those who only follow mainstream personalities, it doesn’t mean anything. For those who explore a bit deeper, P-Orridge was always in the background. If it wasn’t for S/He’s first band Throbbing Gristle, there would be no bands such as Nine Inch Nails.
Most people aren’t saints. Genesis P-Orridge had more than S/Her share of detractors. There was abuse allegations from former associates. Cosey Fan Tutti, former band mate with Throbbing Gristle, and former girlfriend, details some offenses in her autobiography Art Sex Music. (In S/His defense, Gen was quoted in The New York Times: “Whatever sells a book sells a book.” You can also read more here.) After divorcing S/Her’s first wife, Paula (now known as Alaura O’ Dell), Gen pretty much erased Paula’s history from the Psychic TV back catalog. Paula and Gen reconnected later on, healing some wounds. Finally, Fred Giannelli could spare a few choice words.
Despite this, Gen continued to evolve and shape shift. After being exiled from S/His native U.K., Gen met Jackie Breyer, a.k.a, Lady Jaye. Lady Jaye became his second wife. Together they embarked on the Pandrogeny Project. They each had plastic surgeries to resemble one another, creating a ‘third sex.’ It’s from this point Gen switched the pro-nouns from “he” to “S/He”, “She” and “They.” The union didn’t last. In 2007, Lady Jaye dropped her body. The cause of death was stomach cancer. Gen continued the Pandrogeny project after Lady Jaye’s passing.
As with other chapters within Gen’s life, S/He continued to rise above the ashes. In the later part of Gen’s life, Gen continued with yet another version of Psychic TV, aka, PTV3. S/He received accolades with museum exhibits, spoken word performances, and acknowledgments from younger bands.
Unfortunately Gen contracted leukemia. Due to health issues, Gen mostly retired from creating music, with the occasional gig here and there. Gen fell in love again, this time with a much younger woman. A 28 year old lady from Granada, named Susanna. Gen nicknamed her ‘Susan Atkins/Hamburger Lady.’ (Hamburger Lady was previously a Throbbing Gristle song.) The public view of Gen was documented on S/He’s Instagram account, Pandrogyne. Gen and the ‘Hamburger Lady’ were engaged before Gen’s passing.
This blog entry focused more on the personal aspects of Gen’s personal life. To document all of Gen’s work, the final version would be the size of a encyclopedia. Regardless of one’s involvement, hypothesis, or what have you, Genesis P-Orridge left an undeniable imprint. The sub-cultural influences will continue for years after S/He’s passing; similar to two of Gen’s own influences, William S. Burroughs, and Byron Gysin. Like David Bowie, S/He opened a gateway for many. It is this, that I personally thank Gen for all of the Occulture sensibilities I still sustain. Even recently, thanks to Gen’s Instagram, I discovered artist Hermann Nitsch. In a way, Gen never stopped giving. May Gen find peace after dropping the body, going on to S/He’s Greater Feast. Here’s to Ov Power.
*Mostly likely, additional blog posts about Genesis P-Orridge.
Another New Yorker article on Genesis P-Orridge – 2016
Pandrogeny I & II – L.A. Times Article
Thee Temple Ov Psychick Youth Documentary
Happy Caturday everyone. This week, the demon Magnus Maximus gives Squeaky Squeakums a few occult lessons. Based on the comic The Temptation of Squeaky, written and drawn by Michele Witchipoo, on WitchesBrewPress.
You can order your own copy via PayPal for $4.00: firstname.lastname@example.org. Another option is Vemno: @Witchipoo, also $4.00. ($3.00 + $1.00 S&H)
Today is Chinese New Year. Otherwise known as Lunar New Year. The ‘year of the rat’ first came to my attention because Industrial legends Einsturzende Neubauten is touring the U.S. for the first time since their aborted attempt back in 2010. It’s in celebration of their 40th anniversary, and they have named this tour ‘Year of The Rat.’
I haven’t followed Chinese New Year as much as I should. Considering I live in Queens, NY, where there’s a diverse Chinese demographic. Especially around in the Flushing area.
The story goes that the Emperor had a race. Twelve animals participated, but the rat won the competition. It was due to the rat’s cleverness. This year’s rat has the elements of metal and yang.
Here’s my illustration of the Chinese Lunar Rat.
In the Yoruba religion (Ifa), Yemaya is one of the most powerful Orishas. She is worshiped in the Santeria, Candomblé and Umbanda faiths. During the colonization of the new world, and the trans-Atlantic slave trade, Yemaya became syncretized into other belief systems, such as the Catholic Virgin Mary, or the Black Madonna. Yemaya is a water deity. On the surface she invokes mermaid imagery. However, Yemaya is much more than that. She rules the oceans, where life begins. As a mother goddess, she is fiercely protective of her children. Her associations are the colors blue and white, sea shells, the moon, the number seven, anything that pertains to the sea. Yemaya, or Yemoja, has an extremely rich history, and this blog post only scratches the surface.
You might have seen this image:
However, Yemaya has African roots. Therefore I decided to illustrate with a darker skin complexion. There is a tiny correspondence to the European fairy tale created in 1836 by Hans Christian Anderson, ‘The Little Mermaid.’ Today people are more aware about the Disney film version.
This is my second time illustrating Yemaya. Did one of her way back in 2005 or 2006. Not many people have seen that version. Those who have seen it, they seemed to have liked it. Alas. This month I’ve been searching for that artwork. A few weeks later and it’s still nowhere to be found. Which is why I went ahead and did a new version.
Here I’ve included both the inked version, and the digitally colored version. I’m not all that happy with the colorized version. It probably would’ve been better if I had filled out the illustration in watercolor instead. Unfortunately, time was of the essence. Looks like I’ll have to do yet another Yemaya portrait down the line.
Not the greatest sketch, but here’s an Inktober 2019 piece. The Inktober prompt was pattern. Yet people seemed to like the sketch on my Instagram. Maybe because the style looks a bit like my early Babalon Babes zine days. Threw in a few alchemy symbols.
May 14th, 2019, Jaz Coleman was at Berlin NYC for an intimate spoken word event. Coleman is the un-dogmatic vocalist for the band Killing Joke. The influential Post-Punk group was on their 40th anniversary world tour. Playing at venues across America was part of the itinerary, which included two sold out gigs at the following NYC venues; Le Poisson Rouge located in Manhattan and Brooklyn’s St. Vitus. Along the way, Jaz Coleman squeezed in a few spoken word events in Los Angeles, San Diego and New York City. Here we’ll discuss the NYC gig.
I first discovered Killing Joke when I was maybe around 15 years old. Heard strains of their single Love Like Blood from some radio program broadcast on WNEW-FM. It was a show featuring British alternative acts. Which is how I also discovered The Smiths. Love Like Blood led to me getting the Nighttime album on vinyl.
Prior going any further, I’m going to confess something. A few years after getting Nighttime, I saw Killing Joke live at CBGB’s. This was during the late ’80s. (Exact date: August 13, 1989) By then the group had already established themselves as legendary. So as a rude teenager, I walked to the bar. Unexpectedly I found myself standing right next to none other than Jaz Coleman himself. He was relaxing at the bar prior to the concert. Jaz was naturally friendly. This timing was way off for me, for around this time I was in my obnoxious late teen phase. So what do I do? I was completely rude to Jaz, then walked away. The middle age adult in me is looking back and shaking her head. I wasn’t being clever. I was being a jerk. Nonetheless, Killing Joke put on an amazing show. As the band played, a woman sporting light brown curly hair began talking to me. She asked me if I was observing Jaz’s facial expressions during the band’s performance. “He’s so intense” she cooed.
A friend who had gone with me to the CBGB’s gig became an impromptu fanboy after that night. Got obsessed with Killing Joke. Overnight the entire Killing Joke back catalog was a part of his record collection. According to memory, he mentioned that Jaz Coleman was doing some spoken word performance at the 13th Street Playhouse. I didn’t go to the Q&A titled “The Necessity of Struggle“, which Jaz was doing along with Martin Atkins. Most likely because I was a broke obnoxious teenager. So my friend goes the following Monday. I ask him for his feedback. He dropped a few tidbits here and there, but his review could be summed up in one word.
As my friend continued on his Killing Joke fandom, I slowly began to regret my rudeness towards Coleman. Fast forward decades later. After discovering Killing Joke back when I was 15 during the Nighttime era, I rediscovered them upon my return to NYC during the mid-2000s. This was also around the time I was knee deep in studying ceremonial and chaos magick. My CD of Pandemonium, which I originally brought during the ’90s, was in constant rotation again. It wasn’t until I started Googling the band that Jaz, along with other members were also interested in the Occult. My suspicions were confirmed. Suddenly it made sense.
Jumping to the years 2018 and 2019. Once again I pick up on Killing Joke. My Spotify list had Killing Joke in rotation. As luck would have it, Killing Joke was touring. Perfect timing, cause finally I had the funds to go and see them live once more. I brought my ticket to the Le Poisson Rouge show, despite St. Vitus being closer to where I currently reside. This didn’t matter, for it all worked out in the end. Last minute I decided to go to the Jaz Coleman spoken word event at Berlin NYC. This time the lecture was titled “Off On A Tangent.” After all these aeons, maybe now I can see what my teenage friend was raving about.
Arriving solo at Berlin NYC, it should be noted that this time, I left my rude attitude at home. As my attitude was locked up in box, I assured it that it will be brought back when clocking in for work. Just give me two days once I’m back in the mundane.
Berlin NYC was small, intimate, and extremely hot. The temperature felt like a fricken’ sauna. Met some nice UK fans who traveled to NYC exclusively for the Killing Joke gigs. The hardcore Killing Joke fans are known as “Gatherers.” There was one particular fan I friended on Facebook – he followed the entire U.S. tour. The audience mostly consisted of these devotees.
Now, Berlin NYC is located on Avenue A near Houston. Deep in the heart of the East Village/Lower East Side. It’s 2019, so the area has been heavily gentrified. Despite a tiny closet masquerading at a studio apartment going for $3000 per month, it’s still the East Village. Therefore thanks to the help of a few audience members, it almost became a free for all. I’ll get to that later in the post.
As luck would have it, an extremely kind gentleman offered his seat to me. I had the best view the whole night. Turns out the woman I sat next to was a friend, a petite blond woman who I met a few years ago through another mutual friend. She was with her male friend, a tall blond man with a thick Yugoslavian accent who she recently got re-antiquated with. Her friend takes one look at me, and offers to buy me a beer. Jaz Coleman quietly takes his seat on the stage. He starts by looking straight into the gathered, and thus set the tone for the night.
Jaz states his intention. He says he was going to open the floor to the audience, allowing him to ask anything they want. That included not just Killing Joke but his interest in the Occult, his personal life, what have you. He taps the red stool next to his table. All you had to do was sit on stage next to him on the “hot seat.” But first, he requested that everyone in the audience to get up from their seats, walk around and introduce themselves to each other. I froze. It felt like I was in either a class or some self-help workshop…or both. For all we know, this could’ve been a casual working in process, and Jaz was starting up the ritual. The friend sitting next to me wasn’t too fond of this idea. She adamantly shook her saying “Nooooooooo…” Yeah, I wasn’t too thrilled either. After she was done disputing his request, I look up from my seat. There’s Jaz Coleman standing right in front of me. He says hello, introducing himself, and asks for our names as he extends his hand. I shake his hand calmly, but inside I felt like a deer caught in headlights. Don’t get me wrong. That itself was amazing, but I was still taken slightly aback.
Jaz takes his seat on the stage once again. Let the show begin.
Some brave souls get upon the hot seat. Jaz listens intently. He gives the inquirers as much as time they need to express themselves. Everything is going smoothly at first.
My friend’s friend, the blond dude with the Yugoslavian accent slowly builds up. He begins to interrupt. The guy didn’t mean to be rambunctious, but the drinks were starting to have an effect. I didn’t catch this guy’s name. You would think I would’ve. Considering he brought me a drink. Hell, we clinked our pint glasses together in a few toasts. But I didn’t, for I already was getting consumed in the event itself. Jaz had to scold him a few times.
So Jaz asks who is next for the hot seat. The tall blond guy volunteers himself.
“Are you going to behave?” Jaz demands.
“Yes! Yes! I have a question…”
So Jaz allows him access to the red hot seat. The guy, starts by telling Jaz about his jacket. That this jacket is from a certain era, etc.
Jaz has this puzzled look; “What’s the question?”
The blond guy responds; “Nothing. I just wanted to show you my jacket…”
Jaz: “Get off the stage!”
The audience breaks into laughter. This impulsive comic relief leads to intermission, as Jaz decides to have some “tea and biscuits.”
After the break, Jaz explains to the audience that he is a recovering alcoholic. Eventually he decided it was wise to quit drinking, otherwise the alternative would’ve meant death. He recalls one incident where him and another band member got into a severe fist fight, to the point where blood could be seen on the walls. Jaz didn’t use channels like Alcoholic Anonymous. His claim was he used sheer willpower to combat drinking. He still enjoys the social aspect of going down to the pub however – but he will not order anything alcoholic. Jaz emphasized on the other alternative…death.
Jaz then pleaded for anyone who has struggled with alcoholism to speak to him. He was willing to help anyone who’s been in a similar plight. He points to the tall blond guy from earlier. “I had a talk with him during the break…”
The hot seat opens up again. More volunteers step up. As for me, I couldn’t think of anything to ask. For once, my mind was a complete blank slate. Don’t think I would’ve managed to get up on stage if I tried. Perhaps this was good. I was more content being a spectator.
Yet the free for all had already began. A tall, slim young woman with a gorgeous face approaches the stage. She begins by stating her parents were occultists, and that she had a rather unconventional childhood. Afterward that, she completely lost me. She rambled on for some time. I get it. She was completely lost in her feelings. While I don’t mean to disrespect her in any way, she just went on and on. What was her point? To Jaz’s credit, he showed an incredible amount of patience. More kudos, he was actually listening. Where as I gave up on her after five minutes. This was followed by another pretty lady, but I tuned out what she was talking about as well. Give Jaz some applause. He has patience of a saint. Must be the Pisces in him.
Speaking of astrology. Jaz mentions sometime during the night that if you are ever curious about your death, check into the 8th house of your astrology chart. Astrology was something I was never an expert on, (tarot and other tools were more my forte) but I have my chart stored somewhere online. The next day, I did exactly that. Took a look at my own astrology chart. Turns out, Jaz is right. The 8th house of your astrology chart points to love, sex, and death.
Jaz dropped some additional wisdom, such as desire vs. love. He says that in order for something to come into fruition, you have to love it, but not desire it. Again, here he has a point. If you want something to manifest, it cannot be on desire alone. Desire leads to obsession, but do you truly love what you’re trying to obtain? My interpretation regarding desire vs. love is this. Desire is to obtain something, like power, or possession. Love on the other hand, is something that’s sincere and unconditional. No strings attached, no ulterior motives. You do something because you love to do it, without demands. Desire only brings misery. It’s an illusion. Desire means we are only fooling ourselves. We desire to feel important. So you take out a car loan to get that car that makes you look good. That car will take twenty years to pay off, as the bank makes interest. Meanwhile, you know you really can’t afford that car. So you’re enslaved. It’s a trap. Now we need cellphones in today’s world. So we pay the cellphone bill. But do we really need that Audi? I would be happy if I just owned any working car, period. Another example. I knew someone who collected watches. The watches were stored inside a dresser, never to be seen. Seriously though, how many watches does one need? I don’t even wear a watch myself – I just use the clock on my smartphone screen. Sometimes less is more. The more material items one collects, or the more someone desires, the more it becomes obvious that there’s an empty void desperately needed to be filled. Desire backfires. Thus love becomes the real magick.
You’re not here to read about my tangents. Back to that night. Jaz mentions some other bits of advice, but eventually the Q&A comes to a close. Before the event ends, Jaz wants to play a classical piece that he composed himself. For those who don’t know, Jaz Coleman is also an accomplished classical music composer. Which explains why some Killing Joke songs sound rather epic. Again, this makes sense. As he plays a classical track, you can see the expression on his face. He’s completely immersed with each note. Meanwhile my petite blond friend starts chewing my ear off in defense of her friend. She says he’s a good guy, he has a good heart, etc. I’m trying to go back and forth between watching Jaz Coleman and listening to my friend.
I think Jaz did have some sort of effect on her tall male friend, which I will get to in my next Killing Joke post. It’ll be mentioned in my Killing Joke concert review, which took place the next night.
It’s getting late, but Jaz Coleman offers to meet anyone in the next room, located in the back of the venue. I politely but quickly bid farewell to my friend, rushing to the back.
As I’m waiting on line, my patience was starting to crack. It’s been a long, busy month for me. Crankiness was starting to appear. I don’t know how I managed to contain myself. I grumbled a few times while on line. Guess it must be the Aries in me.
This all changed as soon when it was my turn. I swear, as soon as I took a few steps into the back room and said “hello”, Jaz extended his arms and proceeded to give me a warm hug. That was totally unexpected. I retained my composure on the outside, but inside I was giddy. Now here’s the part where I do something I normally NEVER do. Please allow my vulnerability as I start swooning here.
After the hug, I closely look straight into his eyes. I told my interest in the occult as he smiled. “I’ve been listening to you since I was 15” I said, “but I’m sure you’ve been told that before…”
“No” as he shook his head, “Don’t say that.” Putting on a mock accent, he continued: “I want to thank you for putting food in my belly!” That was cute. At that point the wicked witch in me melted. Words? What words, I lost them. I stammered again that I was a fan for a while, but quickly checked myself. Excusing myself, I said I was going, but I will be at the concert. “I’ll look for you tomorrow night” he chimed, as I sped out the exit. Cause inside by this point, I was dying.
Go on, have a chuckle at my expense. It’s all good. It took me two weeks to process this. A delayed reaction of sorts. I will say for the record, as Jaz hugged me, it was not inappropriately. It was a genuine hug, no matter how unexpected. What really got to me what the realization that today, the human touch has become a luxury. As human beings we are afraid to hug each other as a friendly gesture. Perhaps we have lost the meaning of showing kindness. It’s perfectly okay to text each other until nightfall. There’s adventures in “sexting”, etc. God forbid though, to have a true conversation face to face. We have become jaded creatures, for every other person is an opportunist. That is distressing, and I’m digressing. But I’ll tell you this. By perchance Jaz Coleman decides to form some sort of spiritual collective or cult. It could be either in New Zealand or South America. I just might hit up travelocity.com. I jest, I jest….or am I? I caught that raised eyebrow. Therefore I’ll leave it up to you to decide.
If you’ve come this far, I thank thee. I’ve rambled on like that girl on stage. Cause it’s easy to type mindlessly on a laptop keyboard. On my cell is photo of me with Jaz Coleman. He offered to take “selfies” with anyone who requested. It’s not one of my best photos. In fact, I look exhausted. It’s been an exhausting month. But perhaps I made up for being such a jerk to him back when I was in my late teens. Echoing the others, I’d say the whole night was intense.