Memories: 23 October 2023

23 October 2023

12:13 am I am so exhausted but I have just finished polishing my latest creation. There are a few flaws (scratches) I will need to keep working on tomorrow (whoops later on today!) but for now…I am satisfied with my work.

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12:40 pm my ring is replete! Complete. Beautiful, if I say so myself 🙂

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid08X6hjKeb3sCZqBvVqqc5sk2jdbvJyog3Z6346hZscqqbk4ayDSJSStiy4Y8P86KPl&id=1340840204&mibextid=v7YzmG

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My latest acquisition arrived from Green Living. An electric yoghurt maker. So excited as I will be able to make homemade yoghurt. I got very excited/stimulated/ carried away when I saw their Ashford electronic spinning machines and carding machines (for preparing fleece for spinning!) oh my. Only about $2000 for both items.

Sooo, Mama T: that poor wretched schmuck will be making a lot of jewellery and …yoghurt to fulfil her desires for her other hobby. Lol. It’s an endless pit of expenses. But three years ago when I started my silversmithing journey, I literally had a breakdown over the expensive Pepe superior ring bender and then much later realised that with time, patience and good sensible budgeting and thanks to my very isolated lifestyle (apart from dancing on the weekend) I have acquired many tools that a few years ago, seemed out of reach.

I still need a good quality rolling mill, a drawing bench, and those wonderful Busch pavé setting burs (the entire set is well over a thousand dollars, and to replace my Smith Little Torch…but….I have made things without any of those fancy but necessary items and I shep naches in my incremental achievements. It’s a journey, a spiralling Sufi dance in the cosmos.

Oh and I remembered just now, how decades ago when I was still a teenager, engaged to that meathead I threw my youth, vibrancy and potential away on, to bear two children that have now both abandoned me, to lose everything over and over again to what end? Well my very own End…my darlings…but I digress.

My mother had befriended Mr Oliver Goldsmith in Wellington NZ. He had lived up to his name as he was a Diamond merchant. He was English and an elderly Orthodox Jew. He showed me his tallit that he always kept in his office (almost like a talisman!) He said he rarely prayed in shule (synagogue).

He took an instant liking for me. (Elderly men often fall madly in love with me almost instantly and it’s not always a compliment! Ugh! ) My mother was slathering him with her narcopathic charm, I think hoping to marry me off to a diamond merchant but I was relieved (and rescued!) to hear that his one son was already engaged.

But the old man asked me if I were interested in Metalsmithing and I just shrugged as I smelled a rat (my bride price far beyond diamonds/rubies/titanium/plutonium) so I rather petulantly replied that I was studying Law instead and had no desires for alternative career options.

Well I failed at Law and later in life discovered to my abject horror that when you marry an abuser the Law remains an arse and favours your abusers… so if I knew now what I knew them…well, I might have sold my naïve youth and pristine loins to the highest bidder but demons come in all forms, and one never can tell.

Perhaps Mr Goldsmith might have given me an apprenticeship and assisted me into a more comfortable lifestyle than being a brood mare for a bastard that didn’t even have respect for me or his little daughters.

C’est la vie, Bitches…the rest is HerStory. I have been in a constant state of Evolution, involution, fucking Revolution, spiralling up and down in the hurdy gurdy ride through Time and Space and only since the last near death experience did the gods tweak my spirit (my Neshamah, my ruach, my nefesh) to kickstart my dross dying animal hide into new founts of creativity, self determination, joy, bliss and my fierce fury to fend off the Covid epoch monstrosities.

So here we are…how much yoghurt will I have to make to save enough money to buy the equipment I need to succeed? Hahaha

Btw…I am lactose intolerant. Shit. It’s enough to make you see Stars. But…I will build up some good gut bacteria inbetween purging. Did you know all that purging gets you a little “high”? (Squeals with laughter at the absurdity of it all.)

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https://youtu.be/xVOJla2vYx8?si=VHbL81FmhLMAz836

A song from my “sponsors”. The mullein tea is taking effect and it’s rough….but…I have taken a nice refreshing shower, washed my hair and feel almost human again.

The lovely Australia Post man, who is Polynesian, arrived in the middle of the day and walked through my gate to hand deliver the parcel into my hands, as seems to be his custom. A kind soul. Handsome…but it’s his soul that I resonated with most.

I was sitting far up the back of my garden, feeling miserable with my lungs and pondering how I could continue living this hellscape like this…but I saw his van arrive so I got up and walked towards the gate.

He met me about ten feet inside my boundary. He had purple mirrored sunglasses on so I just stared into his mirrored glasses and even without being able to see his eyes I saw deep compassion and tenderness for me in his “energy”.

I half expected him to say “Tanya, you need to go inside, wash your hair and rest” but he just cheerfully handed me my parcel and I thanked him and he turned on his heel to leave my property. I think I said something like “Thanks Darling!” which was inappropriate of me, given he was in service to me and a virtual stranger.

There was the briefest pause in his step, with surprise, but he kept going and I took my new acquisition into my house. That man is utterly wasted as a Postal Delivery man. He is a natural Healer. That is twice now, that I have felt comforted just by his sweet cheerful easygoing nature.

I smiled to myself as I unpacked my goods. There are still good kind souls in this hell planet. Even ones that reject being called Darling as a matter of honour (at least until we are feeling more comfortable with such intimacy.) Next time he comes to deliver a parcel I will ask him his name and refer to him by that instead.

The “Darling” thing is an endearment that got overused by my own mother and I am fast becoming more like her as I age and frankly it’s a tad terrifying. If this keeps up I will also be demented and lifting my voluminous skirts high over my head, screaming how hot it is!

Well it WAS hot today, that part is true. But my dearly departed “white lady” monster mother had other kinds of heat in mind when she was doing that!

Can we say …oy?! Anyway, bad asthma or not…I have taken back control over my auric field and scrubbed from head to toe. So tomorrow I will look less greasy and unsavoury and hunted! (Or so I hope!)

But I worked my arse off for two days, longer if you factor in the time it took to make the wax ring model then repair it as I melted it too much. Gahhh.

But Mama T made that ring and she is highly activated for the next “turning”. I have used up all my silver so I will have to wait a while, I guess 🙂

23 October 2022

8:30 pm. Finally sitting down and cuddling with my Beau!

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9:36 am I experienced very little sleep last night. I lay down at midnight and immediately my brain went on fire. This can’t go on. It’s gonna kill me. For sure.

I managed a few hours sleep and woke up primarily because I needed to pee. Alert and ready for anything. Bejaysus as the Irish say. Or is it Begorrah?- because if this continues I will be a Goner!

What is causing this overly active nervous enervation. Post-apocalyptic blues? Menopause? Some kind of mind virus? Too much blue screen? 5G? Bathos? Isolation?

I am so tired even my teeth ache. I am a human being, not a machine. Why am I driving myself so hard to achieve so very little in the hope of making a little bit of extra money which is not even guaranteed.

For my dream of visiting all the Sacred Spaces on the planet? I can do that for free on YouTube, or fly there in my imagination or visit in the next dimension whenever I like when the gods permit me to transition this weird but spiritually enervated body.

What am I doing? Giving myself expensive distractions which use up the most precious commodity of all. Time. Time I could be sharing with my most ardent beloveds. Oh that’s right…I don’t have the One…and my family are ever more distant.

So I am working myself to my own death in the fantasy that if I am successful at some thing…they will want me.

And the truth is…too stupendously awful to contemplate. I could cry but I have cried for decades. Slept for decades. Fought and stomped and beat my breast for decades…all to no avail.

Even dancing is precarious for me now. Too many actual zombies trying to get one over on me or put their hands down my pants. I wanted to go last night but knew I was too exhausted (at least physically) for it to be safe for me to do so.

My loveless life is a Dybbuk-ridden horror story without end. I am convinced even death won’t ameliorate that curse. But that is insomnia speaking. Negativity. Nothingness.

“You will own nothing and be happy”. Fuck you, you genociders. You smug evil perverted cunts …

I was divested of everything numerous times…so now I scrabble around in the dust (zero calories) trying to build a market stall business in an actual apocalypse, because I want to build a business as a survival mechanism.

With no assets or money and frankly all the money I have spent on this should have gone to prepping food and keeping what is left of my foolish fat hobbit body ALIVE.

I am striving to achieve the IMPOSSIBLE. It’s crazy making.

But here I am. Another day in Paradise. Doing my best even though I am way behind everyone else (that have their own homes and partners and who weren’t decimated by despots!)

Who the hell do I think I am?

That woman in the AJS demo was right. I do need support to achieve my goals. They are lofty goals. Almost unachievable, alone.

Yet here I am…doing it. One fucking day at a time.

A message from my sarcastic sardonic “sponsors” the angels or the demons. Who knows anymore?

Funny bastards. I love you! “Stayin’ Alive”

https://open.spotify.com/track/5ubvP9oKmxLUVq506fgLhk?si=EBa297xrRTenXxXdb60iCw&context=spotify%3Asearch%3Asaturdat%2Bnight%2Bfever

“You’re going nowhere…somebody help me…” laughing and crying. Humour, not a tumour.

23 October 2021

Thank you to my Halloween earthangel! (We have lollies!!! Yayy!) thanks for the other yummy goodies too!!

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1:27 am. Last night I finished washing all the dust off my furniture and schmontzes in the Studio. An epic task. It took me hours.

I still need to polish the timber bookshelves and hutch and display unit. Arrgghhh.

I still need to wash down everything in the kitchen/dining area. It’s taken me four days to get on top of it. Another two days worth of work with polishing.

Then I guess I will have to dust more frequently to maintain some sort of domestic bliss. Again…arghhh!

But I have achieved a state of cleanliness not seen for several months. So that is a huge achievement, given I have been distracted by various art projects.

Clean house…order out of chaos. Invokes more positive flowing chi and benevolent loving supportive spirits to inspire me and return my mood to balance too.

I got woken up at 1:11 am by Bobo who needed to pee. He is still out there, wandering around under the full moon.

I better get him back to bed and attempt sleep again.

23 October 2020

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The half naked woman runs through her forests, oceans, dreaming.

Bare legs, bare arms, bare heart, Bare arsed, barely there, nearly here.

Hold on to her dreaming, keep her precious. She’s falling apart at her seemingly seamless dress. Barely covering her torn refractions of a life hardwon. Like a booby prize for giblets. Carrion fed Harlot: lost her way but sashay away to fight another day.

Shamelessly free to be her own Self in all dimensions.

If she could heal this paradigm she would blow you a kiss, ye masked crusaders. But no one kisses this Hag anymore. Only dogs, whose eyes glisten with delight of her presence.

A dogged doggone kiss from the innocents. No shame in their game - we dance and play, pray and stay when we know we should Run far far away to a Land where we are honoured and cared for.

One day! Tomorrow and tomorrow as my skin cracks and my heart shreds and my soul sheds like confetti, blown apart by capricious men and their nasty little games.

Look for the good people. The ones who conspire to inspire and protect. I found love in the ancient knowledge of a tree. In fireflies and a chirpy cheeky little bird, avoiding his sleep.

Dream little dreams of me...then let me Be.

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Pray for the lost souls that they find rest and peace in the ever-loving arms of the Ein Sof. I had souls smash down my bedroom door after 9/11. It was terrifying as I was under actual attack in my own personal life from perverted family and ex lovers.

I thought I was going to be killed. Later on I realised it was hundreds of lost souls attracted to my light signature, needing help to cross over.

So I spent a night in prayer, asking for their forgiveness for reacting in fear and praying for their guides and mine to facilitate their passing over.

This ritual of “rescue work” should be undertaken at any place where there has been mass death, including concentration camps, sites of natural disaster and other places where people have died in tragic circumstances.

Energy never dies but the souls of the Doomed can attach themselves to the living. Which is why I was concerned that Cees kept returning to Mittelbau-Dora in his final years of life as I felt that as he was suffering cancer he would have leaks in his aura that would attract an angry lost spirit.

After he died...my own mother became increasingly demonic and evil until her descent with Alzheimer’s. However she had always been a narcopath, so perhaps old age just brought out the worst in her already latent qualities.

As for me...I have been under full blown attack for decades but this past year has seen me be “tested” to the nth degree. I contemplated suicide today. Briefly. It’s hard to stay in such a vile abusive world.

But I got myself through, as I often do. Swings and roundabouts. A daily practise of mindfulness and cleaving to the Hag called Hope.

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Haha Pete and Robyn passed by with little Koko. He said he likes Zoroastrianism and my car is named Mazda after one of their gods. I laughed and said its number plate is also “Ein Sof” and I have one of God’s names on my tattoo, but I am no tzaddik as I swear, blaspheme and go on crazed Anarchistic campaigns with vile little pen pushers! We laughed.

I suppose though, I am in rather esteemed company at any given time. The gods have been testing my spiritual efficacy for some time now!

Some days are just unspeakably painful though. If only I had had a normal safe childhood and a safe adulthood too, who knows what I might have achieved or how amazingly beautiful my life could have turned out. But here I am, Living in this ridiculous paradigm.

I gifted two roses to Robyn from the weeping rose, as it is in full bloom. She only wanted one for their mother but I said no, take two as the Bush is in full splendour but last time I lost my rose bush when it was in full Splendour so it was a lesson to share the abundance, and the joy in the moment!!

They walked off home happily but in return, I was gifted the kindness of Warren rescuing Charlie for me!

So the world keeps spinning...sometimes epic bullshit..other times red roses and rainbow lorikeet’s spiritual gold.

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So the lovely thing that just happened was my neighbour Warren helped me get Charlie out of the Umbrella tree. Charlie was determined to spend the night outside but I feared he might run away again, and possibly get killed by a cat or other wilder birds.

So Warren grabbed a ladder and held out Charlie’s long stick I use for a perch and Charlie gratefully climbed on and was rescued.

Warren was thrilled and said he felt like a fireman! I was very happy that he helped me. So that was the finale to my rather stressful day.

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23 October 2016

Last night was...startlingly awesome. So was Friday night. I wasn't even going to go out last night as I was so exhausted and in so much pain from dancing on Friday.

Fiona convinced me. Omg. Something raw and magical happened. On my 8th wind at 2 am. Haha Joe and me. Awesome. We did our little Dark Clown routine.

Who's that woman? No idea.

Thank you to all my beautiful lavish friends, to Hashem for gifting me with this miracle of happiness and celebration amidst so much exhaustion.

My thighs feel like they have been punched by a dozen thigh-master wielding gnomes. My feet...what feet? I can't feel them.

I am awake after only 6 hours sleep. 11 hours sleep for 2 nights with exercise mania. Oh shit. It is gonna be a scary week. Lol!

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Love came and slunk around the door. It seeped into the rooms of my house like an emollient into parched skin. It soothed my soul, peeled back some rough edges. It licked my face. It left quietly and gently, the same way. With barely a kiss or a fizz. But oh my!

Her heart broke into a million mirror shards. She tried to pick up the pieces but they flew into the void, slipping away like quicksilver. Wait for me, my precious. Scrambling to hold the last nectared drop of sweet oblivious bliss. Hold! Tight! Alas, it shimmied like a wandering mirage into an alternate paradigm.

She fell into that other realm. Fingers of her mind clutching, scratching, scrambling to receive the dreamer's dream. It came to watch her. Too torn by life's refractions to disappear completely. Too tantalised by the woman who she herself had not met yet.

Unfurling miracles like a fern frond, burst from her grief and desolation. Dewy lightness of being. The darkness overwhelmed by her own inner light. How could such hell and paradise coexist in one mind at one synchronous time?

Other revellers met her in her rage and her glory. To tell the story of love unmet, but never totally lost or forgotten. Every time she fell into that abyss, beautiful hands plucked her up and threw her into the storm. She flew like an angel in the face of her own sadness. She was born again. Convulsions of pain, of existential angst. Magic flicked its tantalising wand. She twirled, stomped and thrived in her madness.

From the kindness of strangers. From a tribe that recognised and esteemed her vibe. From a family she never had. Even the lover, waiting and watching. A kiss before dying. A flickering flame of the eternal before drying into a dead and useless ill-begotten thing.

You can't make this up. You have to live it. Plumb its depths. Echolocation. High on the hills is a lonely goatherd. Climb every mountain. Screw that. Just dance. Until you have died a thousand times in one night. Then dance even more. Get up, stand up. Fall down. Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee. Restore your soul.

Life's wish and love's blessings abound. It is in all of us. This power to surpass our own mortification.

Love. If not enough. Increase the dose. Don't give up. It won't work. Love flows and increases exponentially. The more she watched it slink away the more it flew in open windows, doors, hearts and minds. Fascinating. Fabulous. Fluid. Fertile. Fragile. Ephemeral.

A glorious sight to behold. Hold that thought for other darker times. A benchmark for the insane and lovelorn.

You wanna what, me??? Haha. I have far worthier examples of how to love and be loved by now.

Everything coming in its own time. In perfect alignment. A stumbling, humbling, sometimes grumbling, but never ever taken for granted…miracle.

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I was lying on my bed, thinking about some woman last night who complained to me that some guy was trying to pick her up so she wished she could just projectile vomit all over him. I smiled sardonically. Said I would pay to see that. She said "How much?" Later she went home with him. Vomiting must be her thing.

Anyway no sooner I finished that thought, Beauregard, who had been climbing all over my face and chest and really pestering me, actually threw up on me and the bed.

Great hurling creature. So I get up and try to catch some of it with my dress to minimise the spread. Then I start retching myself from the stink.

So um. Yeah. Vomit. Not my most favourite thing right now. Not even paying! So there.

23 October 2015

5.09 pm Awake, aware and happy. Life is good!

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3.45 pm just woke up! Whoa! I had a lovely day yesterday, talking to friends. So excited about getting a Pomeranian puppy in a few months. Crazy John next door gave back the sheep. It kept him awake for 2 nights.

I was sad to see Miss Daisy go. I told him we both crave babies! He got the softest look on his face. I can tell he is grieving Jack, his old blind cattle dog.

Then I spoke to Sherry in the US for 3 and a half hours! She had some fantastic news for me. So with all our suffering this year, it seems next year is shaping up to be marvellous!

23 October 2014

I had some sad and poignant news today. My former Orthodox Rabbi who was so kind and supportive to me back in 1994, has succumbed to Dementia.

At that time he was castigated and vilified during my attempt to convert Orthodox. He even provided me with his own Hechschered (Kosher certification!) cheese, which as a fully qualified Food Technologist and Agronomist, as well at a practising Orthodox Rabbi and the leader of Orthodox Jewish life in Brisbane ie a member of the Beit Din, he was more than qualified to do.

He gave me his cheese to sell from my kashered home, which he kashered himself! How was he repaid by the jewish community?? With disrespect and vilification.

He did no wrong. Neither did I. My husband and I sold the kosher cheese, manufactured in Kenilworth from our kosher home, and stored it in a separate fridge under our house. The cheese never came anywhere near our other foodstuffs. It remained Kosher while stored at our home and after point of sale.

The rabbi trusted me and I trusted him. He was, and is, a devout spiritual man and he was basically driven from Brisbane by the salacious lies, that his cheese was not kosher and I was not to be supported.

In the end, after being slandered by a fellow conversion candidate who gossiped and slurred my reputation at Bunya st, who actually was converted Orthodox after her evil deeds towards me and my rabbi and few supporters (this hag actually [vomits] became a volunteer for the Chevra Kadisha washing our female dead in preparation for burial!)

Well, after that debacle, I decided not to complete my Orthodox conversion and to remain a Progressive Jew as I could no longer bear the evil salacious hypocrisy eschewed by the Orthodox community here.

My beautiful friend and Rabbi had tried to give the community Kosher Cheese to facilitate Kashrut in Brisbane and I had happily supported his efforts, knowing how important it is for traditional jews to have this available to them.

Now his mind returns to those weeks and months of emotional upheaval which culminated in him, one day meeting me in the Sinai College carpark, with his beautiful wife. In his arms were about a dozen old Siddurs or religious prayer books which he had brought for the Geniza.

I told him I was not going to complete my Orthodox Conversion and I burst into tears. He pressed one of the old Siddurs into my hand. He said "this one is still Kosher Ms Arons, I want you to have it as a gift from myself and my wife, I want you to always remember that as an Orthodox Rabbi, I Accept that you are a Jew and Hashem knows that you are a Jew and you must never forget that you are a Jew. No matter what!"

I brightened and told him "Well Rabbi, if that is good enough for you, then that is good enough for me!" And giggled through my tears.

We three all cried tears of joy together and bid each other Goodbye.

I went home feeling very humbled and blessed by the experience. For this was no ordinary Rabbi but a Kabbalist as well. A truly good kind man.

Now in his confusion with Dementia I am told he remembers me and cries for sorrow over the way we were both treated by the community at that time. 20 years ago is still fresh in his mind and his steadfast loyalty and love for me as his friend and conversion candidate has not diminished.

This my friends is true (platonic!) love, and respect and admiration from a sweet soul whom I have not seen in 20 years.

If I had money to fly to Melbourne to see him and comfort him I would be there.

G-d Bless his true Heart and Soul. I wish I could bring him peace to know I am still a jew in my heart and soul and even though I live a secular life now, I still honour my people and our traditions and I will never cease to love HaShem or be His beloved Servant (in my own weird way).

G-d moves in mysterious ways and there is a poignant beauty amidst the tragic Pathos to know how many good men (and women!) of High Repute cared about me as a Human being and fought for my honour and my human rights to be counted amongst them.

I am truly and eternally grateful for their steadfast love and support.

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Interesting update: a friend from my shul has kindly offered to pay for me to go to Melbourne to visit my Rabbi friend so I can bring peace to his mind, that I am well and happy and help soothe his troubled mind.

I think I will take up his offer. It will be meaningful for me to be able to see him and his wife again.

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Storm coming. I feel excited...

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Heather took me to Flute for a lovely lunch and gave me a lovely gift. I feel very much loved! Thank you, Heather.

23 October 2011

23 October 2009

My Tarot Card of today is bang on! Finally some Tarot that correlates to my real life instead of the usual hoogekepiffle!

Adam Broit: I shall await the time to meet you, do you a reading and read your palm as well..and you can cross mine with silver, Gadjo...

Me: hmmm sounds promising....but are you a Prophet or a Seer, or even just a really good liar?

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons