Full Moon was last night, and I’m still here lol. In fact it has been very good, and I have continued to let go, and accept the growth that is happening happily. “Letting go” and “forgiveness” have been the watch words of the time for me, which helps me to ease forward into exploring a different philosophy of interpersonal relationships, based upon individuality. People so often claim to be speaking for entire groups, or how the world should be, or how I insist it is and must be, and that’s the kind of thing I find the most oppressive; but I know that they are only talking for themselves (whatever the compulsion to believe otherwise), and that is all any of us can do. That’s what I mean by “forgiveness” here practically, I am noticing. “Forgiveness” is just a flash card to say “let it go” (and maybe see what you notice afterwards). I may as well be calling it imaginal disarmament, or deflation of alien moral claim, or I don’t know what, but “forgiveness” works, because I understand what I mean by it*. People, reduced to individuality, become far more understandable, and far less negatively distracting to boot. But you have to let go first.
We are also in the middle of the eternal present of a British heat wave, with today being a cool 72°. It is bliss for a Leo like me. I will eventually work my way through making comprehensive notes on The Satanic Bible, as I do want to do a personal run down on a book I think has been highly influential for an entire subculture, and the ways I both appreciate and diverge from it.
On a different note, a few weeks ago we saw a film on TV which I liked, but which was purgatory for my husband (many thanks to him for his patience lol). It was about the painter William Turner, and the film might have had some overly winsome period drama moments (a bit of a British cinema malaise), but there was a lot about it I loved in the detail, and a lot I learned about Turner. I think he was an extraordinary painter, but I had no idea he was such a mutedly unconventional man, and I hadn’t realized he had such a connection with the seaside resort of Margate, a place I visited and stayed quite a bit in the 80s and 90s when my parents lived there at the end of their lives. The British sea side is a surreal institution which has gone into decline since the 1970s, and Margate with it, more so with the passing decades, with Dreamland closed down. It faces north and gives the sea a somewhat brown-grey colour, but it has nice sandy beaches, and I spent quite a few walks having cheap coffee and roll ups at various sea front cafes. Knowing that Turner found inspiration there lent the fallen resort a dignity I couldn’t help feeling it deserved.
So from the balmy, humid haze, a very good day to you.
* it doesn’t mean unconditional absolution for being an ass for instance.