Journal, 1973

Back to previous: January 6, 1973 Journal. Forward to Journal October 28, 1973. {Note, setting is that I have to move from Berkeley, California, which was my intention when I left New York. Bev and Merle Griessert and their friends have introduced me to a Doctor's dream of a Community Center in Monte Rio. I'm considering moving there. They drove me up there. I have a bicycle, not a car. I hitch hike long distances.}

February 28, 1973 Berkeley, CA

Awake 3-5AM. Alternate thinking about A. recent earth experiences / + / B. off earth radiation.

B. Does it come every 1,000 years? When I was a child, mentally I would circle around the block I lived in. The path was rectangular and moving from smooth transit to gradual knotty obstructions and back. Now my consciousness is awareness. Not fixed but not moving. Able to open up and look at the earth as it is radiated with waves of powerful stuff. It seems that not only me, but the whole planet, including all forms of life, death and the whole which are there are being raised in consciousness by adapting to a new type of radiation or cosmic vibes. It seems to come from outside the solar system but to be interpreted, passed on or introduced to us by MARS. Mars functions to us as Male to Female. That is why female thought is so little understood. How can female thought exist when all mediums of thought have been shaped by men? Females are in a good position to understand Mars' message and prepare and translate for the people, men and the children. Then it can be passed to Venus. Earth relates to Venus as Male to Female. Earth is bi-sexual but we see it as spinning only one way.

In other words everything here is changed by this radiation. I have not known it before. We eat differently, relate to animals differently, breathe differently. All our cells are changing.

March 1, 1973

Woke up again at 3AM all tensed in known and unknown ways. I can feel me tensing the way my mother must have got her rounded back near neck, the "turtle reaction" hunching down in shell. The massage found those kinks. Now I must remember to relax them.

This therapy will be hard, coming when I'm flushed with anxiety of moving. The trespassing of the young people bugs me, the stealing. These ways are very hard for me to follow. Maybe because it's so close to me. Lacking social skills to wrest money from others, I'm dependent on hand-outs. Trespassers and stealers are so close to that. O it's ego again. Because I have a little income and way of getting attention, I pride myself on not stooping to T&S. I don't know how I would keep that from being barriers. Watch Fleur. Watch Psychiatrist. Obviously the whole dream of community center is to provide a way for everyone to be more moral. But wouldn't my position as one who doesn't trespass or steal make me a target?

March 4, 1973

Spectrum Wave seen at SF ExploratoriumI alternate between despair of being able to be and elation at finding a site for my dome and a place to live in the country. Seeing the spectrum wave at Exploratorium today was good. Painted in 3D violet (shortest from crest to crest or more frequent, but higher) how is this height explained scientifically? As having greater energy? Red (longer form crest to crest, but least in altitude).

I'm confused about the sensation of radically different firing by radiation from somewhere beyond our solar system. I can't tell if it's 1. R., 2 My stimulus to move 3. the group energy absorbed and generated in Monte Rio 4. An actual signal that is from outside and affecting everyone.

In any case, my procedure is to try to visualize it or form a communication to my friends about it. In so doing will balance out the truth. I believe the wildest statements are the most fruitful for the individual because they can't possibly be as wild as the unknown reality being perceived and will be most helpful. I'm really happy these days in the sense that faith is carrying me and my involvement is relaxing out into a sensuous rippling of connections. Even tho I'm tense and crabby. My larger part is taking care of the smaller, even tho the smaller is taking last ditch stands at every habit, fear, conditioned response. Will I ever get over my family's anxiety about moving?

March 6, 1973

Thoughts while taking down dome Berkeley. How slow it is.

Fall 1967 - design of 1st dome

Spring 1968 - 1st dome forms and trial section

Summer 70 - 2nd dome forms, 1st 3 sections

1971 and 72 - big year for sections, last done in fall, 20 done

1971 and 72 - winter experimented with structures

February 73 - made four new sections, 24 done

5 1/2 years

(Added later: )

My faith is being tested to the utmost. There seems to be no alternative to Monte Rio. And yet how can I take care of my kids there? I seem to be exceedingly tense and worried because I'm pressured. Maybe if I pay the rent I'll feel like I have more choices. I have a caught-in-avalanche feeling. If only I could let go and enjoy it. I've thot of every alternative and nothing goes. If evicted, put stuff in storage?

Dome installation design If only you could just feel the meaning and quality of every second. In a way that's what I'm doing — savoring that moment when one knows one is caught in an avalanche and one still might catch a twig, or make conscious the fact that one chose to climb the snowy Mt. and one has to lean with all possibilities of the trip. Or when previously I know not what to do and seem to have fallen in a pit or good thing happens, but I have not been conscious enough of my own needs to be creative enough on the scene.

Here it seems I'm negating my life needs such as warm dry place to work and nest for kids, etc. in rush to go ahead with dome. What do I want?

Maybe floor could be wire mesh (with respect to putting dome on center in drawing). Want attention to my work in Monte Rio so I can get important enough jobs to really earn money so I can have more time to dream. Confidence and also do want the community mentality. Refine the vision by leading in communication. Wholeo.

March 10, 1973

Morning I am exceedingly upset about moving. I woke up at 2, bounding up as if a.m. Back to sleep. Woke up yelling PAT! Afraid I had yelled it out loud as I was trying to in my dream. Upon waking, I realized Pat is the one who held the key to my security in the form of my Staten Island apartment. {Note, I had sublet it but lost it so did not have that security.}

I have this furious destructive energy to clean, pack and take down everything. But inside a druggy kind of whirling sensation of pushing high. Mentally, it seems I'm going in the right direction but I'm afraid. I need to examine these emotions in meditation somehow. Because it's not just my problem. I have a great urge to be outdoors more — this is pushing me. I have a great urge to be part of a community functioning differently than the object money one. That draws me. The interaction is the vital. But I need control to function highly. But as I see it, everyone who puts security first, tends to reflect little deaths. Since they have stopped themselves off from the flow — they don't communicate. This is why I surge out. It's good I do but I don't have the training or background for it. I get all cut up and hurt and I retreat instead of becoming strong sometimes. But there is only one way and I can take it anytime. There is such a singing bird outside.

Typed undated

{Note I think the Dr. Bob Newport was the idea man behind the Monte Rio Community Center group.}

Tuning into the "Black Holes" while standing on head in Newport's Entryway

Just before the first time of Spring, 1973.

Black on black

. . . becoming Black on black

. . . . . . tuning into Black on black

a black from way behind the quabala veils

. . . out of cracks in the black of uncarved Tao's blocks

. . a void of nothingness not Zen

. . . . . . .even past the 64 Tibetan voids

. . . . . past the Christian 3-in-one.

Black where energy streams in

. . . . . . . . . .unpolluted by knowledge or form

. . . . . Black that's going neither right nor left

. . Black that is not off that is not on

. . . .just energy available and satisfying

. . . .translated in flow by one

. . . . from old stars in through one.

another undated page








March 26, 1973

I'm thinking about two characteristics of me.

1. How it is increasingly obvious that I allow people to relate to me in ways not satisfactory to me. I reciprocate. I'm not aware that I do this. When it is pointed out, I even deny it. I may even know the fact at various times in my life and yet can't break the habit. Yet I know and they know that it's not good for them to be able to act that way. So they end up withdrawing themselves from me. I refuse to relate but refuse to take responsibility for it. It seems like something I could grow into.

I'm experiencing a humbling sense of my own limitations. How teeny an open awareness I have of my own little life. And I so presuming to preach facts of life unknown by all.

2. How I have these faces or aspects that seem entirely unconnected. I got into the "New Species" fantasy. It seemed really real. Now I can't even read the manuscript I had prepared. It's all so remote from my interest. I'm so untogether.

But I can almost dig that the way I am is natural. Maybe a human only comes into focus for brief flashes in life. Kind of like a tuning up and meshing of beams and then wandering out.

Because occasionally I'm different. Occasionally I'm amazing at giant meeting moving focus, inside be, yet vastly larger than me that put it together and seems to know what it is all about.

April 17, 1973

{Elizabeth and I went to Seattle to visit Karl and Toni Potter. Toni was a college friend in the UofMN Art Dept. working on MFAs together. Karl was a Professor of Indian Philosophy and had translated great books into English. I'm not sure if Karl had suffered his stroke before our visit or later. I can't remember where Leo was.}

Caroling's Visions in Karl's room

very fine place to be

1 square of light facing due east

sitting on hardwood chair before desk.

Karl Potter's Room Horizon, 4-17-1973 See a dark horizon straining vertical exertion upwards in bell curve.

with passionate dark colors above edge not important

somehow this is a direct access to wisdom of east.

kind of a bridge rising up again over there. Karl can travel at will, geographically gathering and meeting what he needs to contact in India by this path. Streaming radiances of gold and turquoise indescribably complex and new colored visions accessible thru tunnel. I can't understand them because they're new and I don't know the concepts or language basis. Somehow, Himalaya's cold mountain heights are a source of wisdom I can't comprehend. This is Karl's energy source. He is also chosen by the force as a vehicle for mankind. He has best to work and allow it to flow.

Back to the room.

Karl Potter's Room, lotus petal visionThen a vision that I am seated in Karl's aura. It is a fine misty turquoise blue. More intense towards center and in sort of overlapping lotus petals, paler towards outer (to white or clear) edge. The pure colors are mixed with tiny grays (which are in themselves tiny whole auras, or spectrums) upon later scrutiny examination) and also tiny beads of white light entering body. The feeling is clear and chill. The purple, ultra violet, red and gold auras, which Karl sees outside himself, actually cut off from himself as a separate entity, a consort, are actually inside himself. A very pale warm orange gold issuing into reds and thence to violets. This whole scene lacking in blue.

{To fill in a little life history. I moved from Berkeley to Larry's land in Forestville with all my belongings on a wooden platform covered with black plastic tarp. My children slept in a tent. I slept on a cot outside in the woods. I went to a fair on the beach in Monte Rio where I showed models and pictures of my dome plans. There I met Rick Miller of Harmony Ranch. We danced on the beach to rock and roll. When neighbors complained about hippies living illegally outdoors in the woods, I was lucky to have formed a relationship to rent a space from Rick to build Wholeo Dome.

It was my NY dream come true. A place to live in nature and connect with the cosmos. Boxes of aluminum tubes and lead. Stained glass sheets and panels and curved foam shipping panels, plus my filing cabinets and life support for myself, daughter age 5 and son age 12. I have to say I got a lot of help from my friends and found the universe to be a supporting place.

At Harmony, Rick ran a white plastic pipe down the hill with a faucet for water to my hillside perch. We slept in a tent I had made from mosquito netting. I cooked on a Svea camp stove until it burned out. Then I got a chainsaw, gathered wood, and made campfires. I had a cooler buried in the ground. We used a porta potty. I called my campsite Funka Ajar. I had to adze a platform for Wholeo Dome and get all my belongings into another dome called Bump. Luckily it did not rain that summer. I wrapped burlap over the loose soil and scattered native wildflower seeds over the top. They grew and held the banks in place.}

June 8, 1973 at Harmony Ranch in Forestville, CA

Woke up last night to the brightest stars ever. Sagittarius, Jupiter, Mars.

July 27, 1973

I cycled to Forestville knowing something very positive in relationship to my work. There was a letter from Sunshine saying the show postponed but assuring me of my CONTACT. I need it!

August 6, 1973

Last night pulse was like 120! Always before was 60. What does this mean? I am appalled and wondering at the depth of the experience I'm immersed in. To balance the broadening with my artist task. Possible ... impossible ... aspects of some tasks. Only what changes are my feelings toawards it. What I need is a higher form of mentation. Emotions: I'm working on feeling everything more. Thinking: this is my forte. Not enough connections with feelings. But I desperately need enlightened. Thinking takes so much time and still is so partial. I need to flex my tetrahedronal light muscles and juice them up by coodinating them with the light flashing off and on from the pineal. I believe this is what religious thought is up to. But tha vocabulary doesn't work for me. I'm possibly just creating a private set of concepts that may have no use for others. But just in case, here's the trip.

In thinking or associating you examine info boxes, data thrown off from rods by tetrahedronal light muscles acting like lantern. But in my step last night towrads a higher "minding", I viewed a cell close from front and above making Christ's cross as tetrahedronal light muscle front and back. Then I withdrew to pineal. Or rather the light seemd to flow and increase. The idea is to put energy into energy increase and let the thinkng do itself without conscious intervention. This way I hope to overcome the hangups of thinking. The habits and limitations of my consciousness. The sensual reveling in a few thoughts. My whole mind or unconscious is healthier, more ready to relate all thoughts to each other. More creative in a larger sense. Now fixing aor sort of floating my consciousness at large, I become sort of a lover of my mind. This is blissful. In a way though, it's a terrifying position. Nothing familiar. Except the warmth and happiness of the proper way. There is no turning back from this way. And I'm not ready. I'm too alone. There are many ahead and many behind. We're all together and have infinite love. I can feel it and give it when I'm ready.

{About the trees around my site.} The south fir on ridge is the "Messenger". The big close fir is the "Interpreter". In the NE is the "Companion" fir, about 40 years old. In the NW is the "Guardian" fir.

September 19, 1973

Today it is raining for my first time in the woods. Amazingly elating. I guess because all summer I've been working against this possibility, "what do I have to do to live here when it starts raining?" Here we are. Dry. Supplied with light and room to move around and do things in.

I hear the old man laughing in the rain. It's one of the fantasies that keep me from the reality I desire. Like Liz heard him earlier and was scared. The drunken old man who lived in a tent for 27 years on this property and strewed the woods with bottles and cans. {Did I say anywhere that Harmony Ranch was 130 acres on Martinelli Rd. in Forestville, CA.?} Who wouldn't give Rick the keys to the gate when Rick bought the land.

I must keep conscious of where I'm at. Will being here distract and wander me? Or clear and focus me? Que Sera?

October 8, 1973

I'm really getting into Psychic Creativity with environment though. Really considering the problems and possibilities of setting up communication with the life in this canyon.

October 19, 1973

What a failure I am. Bump is fun but I despair of ever solving leaks. Now I'm all tired with realizing I couldn't fix all the leaks at night, putting up the tarp and hoping it works when I sleep again. I certainly would go away for the winter if I didn't want to work on WHOLEO. It seems it's too hard for me. Now it's up and I could work if I could solve the living problems. But they seem insurmountable. If I move, there's all that energy gone again.

{Note: I remember the two big steps past water and shelter toward becoming civilized. Kerosene lamps for light at night. A wood-burning stove for warmth and cooking.}

October 22, 1973

Whew. To be in a small sphere you've built or put together. In an electrical storm. WINDY. Branhes crashing on dome. Tarp flying. New leaks appearing. Woow. It felt so much like being in a ship on an ocean. O O ooh. I guess I've been projected into my building. It feels like my body. I'm all wound up with it. The weather so exciting. So marvelous to survive the tempest.

However it seems so silly. Why patch leaks so carefully when the whole thing will only last 5 to 10 years. The waterproof cement that seemed to work so nicely is breaking down in sun load. Tired !!!!!!!!!!!!

October 24, 1973

Saw sunrise for the last time before it is hidden for the winter behind the hill in the south past Martinelli Road and the canyon.

Nov. 73 — Spring '74 worked solidly filling in 3/5 of the Wholeo dome.

Back to Rinpoche, January 6, 1973 Journal. Forward to Journal October 28, 1973.

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