A Daily Plan

  1. images
  2. The Flush: a ten to fifteen minute rant on Trump, make it funny if possible
  3. Data: gather data on FLIPPING CONGRESS AND THE NATION, PLUS legislation to support or oppose.
  5. ACTION PART ONE: look at legislation to oppose and / or support make 3 phone calls and send emails – 1 member of House of Reps and 2 Senators preferably in your state to start.
  7. ACTION PART TWO: look at budget and who and how much to contribute to candidates (progressive and/or Dems guys*) opposed to GOP agenda and contribute
  9. ACTION PART THREE: make report on social media


* guys – womens, mens, androgynous-es, transgenders, gays, lesbians, genderqueers, asexuals and everybody else.

PS This is not about real soup you eat or slurp. This is about the soup we’re in. Hope that clears things up. Tuff if it doesn’t.


My story of the movies…


newscopythe flow of the stuff in my head…

About the age of 15 or 16 my best friend Paul D. and I got together to make a movie. We wrote a script based on our goofy sense of humor and our favorite movies of Sean Connery as 007. Our character was James Notch 008 and ½ based on the Notch Store on the west side of Cheshire with a 67 page script maybe (it was a long time ago). It was a movie that never got made.


“Everybody knows they only make movies in Hollywood,”

classmates told us.


Coincidentally the Notch Store was the backdrop for the final scene in a film directed by Paul Newman called Rachel, Rachel in 1968 and was nominated for 4 Oscars including Best Picture (it didn’t win any Oscars).

I threw myself on the floor and rolled around. I moaned, I whined until she (my mom) agreed.

The next film that Paul and I filmed didn’t have a script. It was just visual ideas I had that I thought would look good strung together. It was a silent color film shot on a Double 8mm film made with a wind-up camera with three twists lenses and had variable shooting speeds. Back in the days of film – sound films were shot at 24 frames per second and silent films at 18 frames per second. Shoot at slower speeds and everyone would speed up. Shoot at faster speeds and slow-motion happens.

I convinced a girl down the street who was a year older than me to be in the film. She was the good guy with a white cowboy hat. I shot that first scene at sunset. The camera was on the ground, which meant I was on the ground too. She ran towards the camera hat on and she brandished the gun (an unloaded Luger my Father had as a souvenir from WWII) and jumped over me. She refused to be in the film after that. I even offered to pay her, but she said no. It was okay to use that footage she told me, mainly because she was in silhouette and no one could see her face.

After that I pleaded with my mom to be in the movie. I threw myself on the floor and rolled around. I moaned, I whined until she agreed. And she did. Phil B my best friend (the trio of nerdy guys – me, Paul and Phil) was the villain, though he looked like an innocent kid.

The Fordham’s Young Filmmakers Festival of 1968 in NYC

It was called: The Chase and it was awful. It was about 40 minutes too long. There were two special effects. My mom shoots at Phil and his black beret whips off his head. I used a fishing pole with some line. We shot all the scenes with my mom with slow film speeds so she looked like a lone Keystone Cop running in long shots that were way too long. And there was a car chase with one long POV (point of view) shot from the car, very boring.

The dying scenes were hilarious because my mom and Phil hammed it up.

Our art teacher suggested we send it to the Fordham’s Young Filmmakers Festival in NYC. We did and the only good thing about the movie was our entry into the festival. It was in 1968 in the winter during the first garbage strike. John Lindsay was major.

I learned so much about films and Paul and I had a good time – away from parents for a whole weekend. We saw a pre-screening of The Planet of The Apes with Charlton Heston.

When I returned I began studying film – Ingmar Bergman, Truffaut, Godard and American Film. I started a film club of watching great films and making small films, though we never got around to watching the great films.

I made one successful short film of 3 minutes made via pixilation or 3D animation (now CGI would be used). It was called King Chair. It made a $45 profit and was shown all over the world. When I asked my mom to be in subsequent movies she agreed if I was never to show her face.

I was thinking about going to go to New York University Film School and was toying with schools focusing on Creative Writing but my Guidance Counselor didn’t have the bravery to tell me that my SAT scores abysmally low. She brought me to the lounge of the other Guidance Counselors for their support in telling me. (Who was supporting me?). They basically said I was too stupid to get a BA and should settle for a BFA in film. I was angry and decided to let go of film school for a BA in English.

Writing pervaded my life.

I got side-tracked into psychology and ended up graduating from one of the top 20 universities in the US with a 3.2 cumulative average. I guess that proved I wasn’t stupid. I got a BA in Psychology with 2 Minors – one in English Literature and the other in Philosophy.

Writing pervaded my life. I tried going back into film in the mid to late 80s. I met Robert Altman who gave me an obscure window into his next film but I was too stupid to get it. (Maybe the guidance counselors were right – I was “too stupid”). His next film was The Player.

I’m still writing and doing my other work that I had surrendered into – as a healer. Being a healer/shaman/astrologer is something I have been doing formally since 1990. I have a fantasy novel that is being readied for publication – The Quest for The Green Man and I have been working on a series of 9 science-fiction novels.

Throughout it all I love stories and I love making-up and writing stories. I only wish I could transfer the images I see in my head to the reader’s head or the film goer, but I love the texture and wobble of words to send the images.


Nine Life Shaping Events and…

earth grids1loveflameEternity-copy2


My early life as a child and later as a teenager was punctuated by extraordinary events that helped shape all subsequent experiences.

Before I attended kindergarten I was eager to learn spelling, which included writing out my name. In the mid 1950s my parents did not send me to nursery school. Between birth and five years old my parents and younger sister and I lived in a second floor apartment that had once been part of an attic in one big house.

At age four I was lying in bed one night watching the floaters in the film of my eyes dart across the night-light lit ceiling of my bedroom. I believed the floaters were stars and I was trying to catch one of them. As soon as I thought I had one it would dart away. It was a futile activity and I don’t know how long I spent doing it. Perhaps I was awakening.

I asked Jesus to protect me. Then I felt Jesus put the heel of his hand near my groin while his fingertips just reached my throat. Even though my body was small, Jesus’s hand must have been extraordinarily big. And I felt safe, grateful and joyous. I saw a piece of glass on the floor.

I took the piece of glass and I carved Jesus’s name in the top drawer of my bureau. The “J” was backwards and the writing was wonky. I threw the piece of glass in the wastebasket and went back to sleep.

In the morning I thought it had all been a dream until I saw Jesus’s name carved in the top drawer of my bureau. I knew that I was going to be in trouble with my parents for defacing the furniture. They said nothing and seemed to pretend that it didn’t exist.

Years later through flashbacks I uncovered a memory of sexual abuse that my father had perpetrated and my mother had covered up. It put the Jesus memory in a context that made sense. I chose to remember my contiguous memory of Jesus’s protection even though I had acknowledged the abuse and its cover-up.



At eleven or twelve years of age my mother drove us to the mall in the adjacent town. “How do these cars not hit each other?” I was wondering in my mind. They are in this dance of cooperation. The dance was fascinating especially when I extrapolated this dance around the world.


At age twelve I had been wandering in the library and found two books. One book reflected my depressive self and the other my expansive self. The first book reflecting the depressive in me was “Notes from Underground” by Dostoyevsky. The second book – “The Future of Man” by Teilhard de Chardin reflected my expansive higher consciousness self. That evening I asked to talk with my father about not using fear to shape his children.


In the summer of 1967 at age fifteen while I was on vacation with my family on Cape Cod I hiked up the beach from Eastham by Nauset Light to Truro about twelve miles – north of the Marconi Station. I had a heart-based experience that love untied the world. It filled ne with bliss and ecstasy. Words pale. The experience was ineffable.


In the summer of 1968 at age sixteen while I was on vacation with my family on Cape Cod I went out onto the mudflats at low tide in Wellfleet. The sun was beginning to set. I leapt into the air and I felt “the world as one”. And in a vision I saw every being connected by beams of light, one heart to another. From space the entire planet was consumed by light.



In 1984 I was in a leadership-training course. I was 32 years old. Our group was team building on a Ropes Course near Woodland, California. One of our teammates was up in the trees preparing to jump onto a wobbly platform, supported in a safety harness by two burly fellows on the ground and two support people in the trees. Our support consisted of us yelling like rabid cheerleaders at her. It made no sense to me so I projected the supportiveness of my heart energy into the trees and towards her.

Something happened that I hadn’t expected.

I saw light coursing through the trunks and branches of the trees. Looking at the light streaming so quickly through the trees was intense.

I looked down. I looked at the ground and then at the bare skin on my left arm.

I saw inside my arm. Where blood was pumping through the arteries and veins I saw light pulsing.  Light from a near by leafy bush (the leaves were tender and sweet to look at) extended a cloudy plasmic field of light around my arm as if to comfort me.

At that time it was too intense for me to process it and I closed my eyes and prayed for normalcy.  When I opened by eyes moments later I saw what I had expected to see – all was normal and reassuring.


The Calling – https://psychesweather.wordpress.com/the-calling/


Eight, Nine and more – explore this blog.

Vision: And the Headline reads –

wethepeople18 months from now-

Vision –

Headline to read:

Impeachment Imminent –

Trump Invalidated – Nation Healing

Trumps resigns and flees US to avoid charges of treason

GOP indicting President Trump for Treason, violations of the Emoluments Act, Obstruction of Justice – impeachment vote confirmed.

Trump avoided impeachment by resigning and fled the United States in a flurry of Twitter accusations against the GOP, the FBI and and CIA in his flight to Morocco. Trump administration resigning. Trump avoided indictments of treason and arrest warrants being issued by fleeing the US to Morocco with no extradition.

Vice President Pence to be sworn in as President.