Poop-Eye the Ninja Sailor

Mcdonalds on Hondori.. 2^nd floor dining area.
Taigee! Hiroshima-ese for debilitating exhaustion.
Highschool students, mostly chics
passed out and strewn like wounded band of knee-socked Samurai
I wish I could ask them more about it,

I'm tired too. Long evening in conversation with angry Polish backpacker and young female Doctor. We had a drink at Molly Malone's Pub. He didn't like other people at the hostel on account they stayed in for the night. Some calculus he makes where they aren't “carpe diem” enough for his tastes. Takes me a little while before I realize my battery is being drained in this foray, but I escape relatively uninjured.

Slept 5 ½ hours at Popeye Media Cafe. I call it Poop Eye in my thoughts.

Windowless, concrete container room, prolific Manga library in print and digital media,

game and video stations, private booths for singles or groups.

Wireless and direct network connections, dual widescreen monitors and fully reclining faux-leather game chair with poly-fur blanket. I wonder about post-masturbatory cleaning policies with minimal visualization. Dull electronic hum and whir of 200 PC Tower-power supply heat fans, overhead air circulation, heating and cooling supplies ambient vibration. No air supply to outside that I can see. Counting on nature of gases to distribute themselves evenly for oxygen resupply. Complimentary shower. Hot water, instant ramen, tea and slushie drinks for sale at the desk.

Slept some, woke up to counter clerk shaking me as my alarm was blaring APHEX electronic dance music, from some album where the titles are just serial numbers. New software, not intuitive to half-sleeping, bleary eyed people, couldn't turn it off for at least a few long minutes. I was deep in REM, always leaves me with sense of discontinuity to be interrupted.

Going to meet Miss Guerilla very soon.

I love her

I never bet on her punctuality,

I will be punctual nonetheless.

Out to the country by van.

Macrobiotic foods, miso, local farm greens tasting.

Lunch, exceptional quality and care in the food and event. I like these people.

Feelings of welcome, openness and interest.

Understanding more of the language, enough that I'm encouraged,

Motivated to develop my strategy for learning. I want to be in this conversation.

I imagine a child must feel like I do now, but without the commentary.

Gratitude,

J.W. Starr

President of the Society For People Who Don't Give A Shit About Convention

What Does a Guerilla Love Artist Do?

I remember listening to Osho speak about life and whether you want to live your truth? I was in a rental house with a film crew, in San Cristobal de Las Casas, Mexico eating cacao beans lightly toasted and dipped in honey. While I listened, I reflected on a moment with a fiery, talented lover of Chinese/Trinidad decent from the year before whom I will call AOI. She proclaimed with vehemence, "I have to live my truth". This came out of the dynamic of AOI breaking her engagement to be married in the process of our becoming lovers. Lying in bed with me, looking for some way to feel OK with everything. Probably I offered my light, but still useful sentiment like, "If you're not committed with everything you've got now, you've just saved yourself and him a lot of heartache later by jumping ship."

My My, I love how our own words can become so prophetic with a little bit of fermentation. But, her words at that moment sounded so forced and built up. They were covering pain and disbelief in an attempt to find some truth out there, which in my observation, like closure, we create for ourselves in here. Looking for it and trying to weave masks of it seems like a way of driving ourselves into cycles of self-torture. And so Osho came with the idea, "live your truth? Why do you want to do that? If you think you have truth, then you have to protect it, defend it, get other people to believe it so it doesn't fall apart... Live your art instead". What a moment.

It was the quintessential element of what I felt when I saw AOI pushing so hard while I felt so at ease. I saw it again in my own life as questions arose while I exited my marriage to SG (Sleeping Guru). Maybe if AOI had shown up at the right time I never would have been married? Perhaps. And perhaps, one incredible series of learning and transformation would not have had its vehicle? Perhaps I did AOI a favor by creating that clarity in her life, while I needed to go through my marriage to learn what I did? My perspective informs me that we've each gotten the medicine we need and it is up to us to be sure it is integrated. There won't be truth, there will be ongoing unfoldment, artful evolution of life and learning.

One of the things that has been fascinating to me throughout this and so many of my previous experiences is the intractable nature of the continuum that to me is heart, art and will. Once my heart informs me there is nothing that can be done to edit it or uninterpret. The art will come in an act of will and things will happen. It is almost terrifying until I realize that it is simply various aspects of my own "only partially knowable at any given moment" Self making themselves apparent in different ways at different times.

The important questions in my perspective are: How do I really feel deep down? How long will it take for me to correct course? How can I do this with best results for myself and people I'm connected to?

I see that an AOI did come for me in the form of Miss Guerilla. I call it, "waking me more fully to myself". The seed of an entirely new life was planted in a single moment of eyes locking and penetrating each other without fear or veils, or words.

This incubated itself for months while simultaneously my marriage dismantled itself. My feeling is that there wasn't a failure but a great success. It may seem counter, but here is Voltaire, "if Columbus in an island of America had not caught the disease, which poisons the source of generation, and often indeed prevents generation, we should not have chocolate and cochineal". I ask myself the question, "how long should we suffer over perceived missteps before we look at what we've gained from any experience?", "and reap the benefits?".

An aside I've been chewing on this morning; What is the name, in any language, for a gift that is given with love and intention and that can not be received, perhaps not understood or identifiable to the recipient? Yet it is still there, still imparted and still working. What if the giver does not know what they've given?

If you have a word for this, please send it!

Love and Light,
J.W. Starr - Henshin Operator

No Soft Landings In Hiroshima This Week.

I awoke at 11:30 AM in the Reino Inn just south of here. I had slept without much disturbance except a series of intense dreams after sunrise in the dormitory on the 3^rd floor for 12 hours. This great sleep was the aftermath of a 24 hour travel period for Miss Guerilla and I which started in Hanoi, Vietnam and proceeded to the Intl Airport by car -> Jet Plane -> Busan, South Korea -> Fukuoka, Japan -> Bus -> Train -> Bus -> Hiroshima Terminal -> rain hike with 60 lbs of gak.

I feel a lot of good things in me and bubbling up. Fukuoka entry was easy and friendly which already puts me in glowing mood. International borders can bring a great variety of experiences and this entry so far from home and with such deep personal import was an auspicious omen. Few questions, little inspection, no suspicious eyes, so happy not to explain the very strong, questionable looking Vietnamese tobacco or the 8” chef knife. Breathe.

Vietnam was a bottomless bag of experience and education in many of life’s mysteries. It was true to the tarot forecast which was represented in The Moon. It was also a great incubator for the health of my fledgling relationship with Miss Guerilla (MG). Coming back to Japan together and seeing such a difference in my own associations and comfort as well as my reception by Japanese people whether they know me or not is strong medicine. I had a feeling of coming home, which, however it derives is a good feeling. And after a month together almost every moment, there was no rush on either side to get time alone. We dropped gear, repacked things for me and went for something balancing to eat at a vegan, whole foods café.

I’m sitting in Starbucks at the NHK Radio building at the street I can’t read from here, listening to the Hip-Musak Christmas Catalog which is not to my taste whatever. It’s 5:30 PM-ish and I’ve been here swilling Coffee since 1:30-ish. I’ve had to carry all of my gear around the city with me today in the rain, have no place to sleep due to a street festival of some kind drawing people into the city. Odds are looking like I’ll have to sleep in a video game booth, Manga Café on Hondori.

I am reminded of a yogic position which involves holding one’s arms out at a “T”. The time is recommended at 10 minutes. If you think you can do this by might alone, please try. The thing that makes the arms stay up there is not the muscles, they can’t do it. I am very happy and it is not by might alone. I see stars, thank you Mr. Wilde.

Miss Guerilla is working out some understandings with her family regarding what we are doing as we both realize that this leap off a cliff we’ve taken with our hearts has landed us in a deep, warm lagoon with a lot of fresh fruit, birds and clear skies.

Today might seem like an inconvenient day, but my spirit is exalted.

As The Guerilla Love Artist, how else should my devotion be captured and directed?

Maybe there are some soft landings.

Assertion and Agression | Growth and Decay

Hanoi Vietnam, 5:25 a.m., air conditioner of upstairs unit just kicked on as I sit here on the 3rd floor balcony looking out into the hazy, pale, neon green light of hotel something 4 doors down in this tiny Old French Quarter Street. The cathedral bells just rang from, I believe, 2 different locations just slightly juxtaposed in time to create a layered sound that gave me impression of events happening just out of synchronization with each other, but in some collusion nonetheless. I'm in the glow of my terminal to the infosphere drinking the remainder of the Vang Dalat which I opened night before last and do not wish to let expire into vinegar world as I do not have a kitchen here to convert wines gone-off into sauces or marinades. (Vang Dalat is Vietnam's red wine)

My mind is awash with topics of all sorts. There are Dali-esque mindscape with Hanoi-haze-clang-rumble sunrise, Motorbike beeps and putters, the prying sound I've come to associate with much of the Vietnamese which I do not understand and is spoken in the streets, My guerilla lover asleep in the room behind the french door to my right, what the hell am I doing? What is most provocative and piquant though is the huge tarot spread Ysiita (guerilla lover) and I put down yesterday morning. Of central focus and pressure to my mind is the Fortune trump card and the placement it occupied in the reading. I'm reading from a Thoth Deck that I've had for 15+ years. If you haven't worked personally with divination or don't believe in it, I can offer that from my experience, this deck knows me and it is no longer just a pile of paper rectangles with glossy images on them.

Fortune is simple, powerful and direct and gave it's "no bullshit" klaxon as the fist card pulled. The reading dealt with a lot of long reaching questions about our business interests and personal lives which we are joyfully and intentionally intertwining. Fortune, like a reaper and an angel was there at the door, or in this case, at the bifurcation point of every fractalized decision that one can make reminding us, "reap what ye sow". Yip, thanks dude.

The magic of tarot is that it always teaches, whether we believe it or not, like it or not, understand it or not. It exerts a pressure, which is very difficult to escape without reckoning. Even if one doesn't believe, still they are proving it right or wrong in their thoughts and so there! Still the dance of stars and archetypes parading in the twilight. I love it.

For me, now, this is a commentary on assertion in many forms. I am saturate these past days with this and with the balance of growth and decay as precipitates of our choices. In my meditations I am seeing the relationship of assertion and growth as the life expanding qualities which become aggression and decay in their destructive forms. The Fortune trump and many ensuing cards gave a great personal narrative to this dynamic within both our lives and prospective goals.

The shades of consequence between these words and the values they indicate are of great import in the world we have created together as a species and in the world we wish to create. If it is not apparent to you, consider the idea that the world we have been inhabiting is over with and a new one is being birthed right now, right on top of it and within it. This process is a seamless manifestation of collective dreams, thoughts and intentions and is determined just a bit more with every act, every thought, every word each day, each moment, each breath.

Of great import within collective dreaming if we would like it to go nicely is the framework of the creative dialogue and how we each understand and employ the tools. Assertion is a tool by which we make plain our intentions to ourselves and others around us. Aggression is when we export our assertions onto the actions of other people. One is necessary to create intentions, one triggers a cycle of decay. Choices.

Lack of assertion of one's desires or needs leads to decay. Simply enough, if one looks at the past, there is at least one thing that we can all agree on, that is, that in the next moment, something will happen. Seems stupid perhaps, but, what do you think is going on? Something always happens. Where does that Something come from? Who decides? uh huh. If we are just floating around waiting, wondering, ignorant as to our purpose and power in this everflowing river of creation then we get a series of happy or unhappy accidents. We're still creating our experience, but we're letting it be determined by our unconscious, often unexamined habits, motivations, frustrations or inspirations.

Know thyself, know what you want and say so. As long as we hide in ignorance of our own authorship of what we encounter we are deceiving our self, though not very well or for very long. For me this morning, with my gut in shambles I am reflecting on this as a simple constant choice as to how experience can unfold. On the morning after that rigorous encounter with divinatory art everything has fresh meaning. I see from this spot that there is a world which I have begun to assert as my chosen path. I see that the real results that occur in each moment as a derivation of the ones just past are always a precise reflection of the seeds that were planted.

My gut hurts because I ate too much and drank stuff that pissed off my pink membranes and other parts. I knew what would happen and I did it anyway. This was not assertion, this was decay. A little decay is educational and can lead to wisdom. Continued decay, in this case, is the refusal to become wise, which is in a sense, aggressive ignorance. In the light of the tarot's reminder of these facts and my own charting of new course, I see an important breakwater about me. It is time to unseal the vaults, use all that I've been given and be not blinded to what I know.

What we know is deep and I invite anyone to consider. Do I know? How to breathe? How to sit? How to chew my food? How to exercise my body? What food to eat? Which drink is good? What is too much? How to drive my passion? What extinguishes it? Who is a friend? Who is a trickster dissolved in their own confusions? What has value? But how often do we do something that disregards what we are certain of? Why might we do such a thing? Is there a cure?

Before I came to Vietnam about 4 weeks ago I asked the tarot what was of greatest consequence in this leg of my journey. It answered THE MOON. This was a forecast of a journey into the abyss of our own dark and hidden nature. AH, how I love the adventure. If a thing doesn't undo us first, how can there be a place for the gifts which it gives?

With Salt, MSG and Polysorbate,
J.W. Starr, Guerilla Love Artist

Moon Blessing - Soul Journey

Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? I mean this in the “how much Johnny Walker did we drink last night” as well as a “Sri Ramana Maharshi cutting through the illusion” way. I have answered this question in a variety of ways in my lives. Some of the answers have been silence, the name my mother gave me, I can’t remember and I don’t care. Today I am going to say that I am J.W. Starr, Guerilla Love Artist, Intergalactic Plumber, Tansdimensional Henshin Agent and Rock Star. It’s not glamorous all of the time, but I love my job. God buys me wine.

I love my job, I love my Job, I love my Job. I don’t have a phone or fax and it doesn’t matter because the boss never calls me. Somehow though, I am always supposed to be on time, in uniform and properly briefed on whatever it is I’m given assignment to do. I’ve argued about this and even fired myself, but it doesn’t change anything. I wake up somewhere with a solid preternatural sense of what the next steps are and I do them or else... or else? Or else all the fun goes away! Everything just gets grey and the sunsets aren’t as stunning and no wine.

It’s 11/11/11 a full moon and the changing of the age from Pisces to Aquarius. I’m without a home-base, I don’t like what I look like, my clothes are mostly wrecked, I don’t know where my income will flow from, I’m separated from my previous partner... I must need a new identity meat-wise (That is, here in the meat.. this place where the meat dances endless in the light of spirit). It’s also about time I reckon for new mission orders to become apparent and assemble. This requires some cooperation from my multiple self at various levels of being. Most of the knowable part of the process I will perform from here sitting at a terminal, writing my way clear and then waiting for the new directions to flow in as they will. This big moon should be a great help in that.

Clearing. Danshari! Before I do a new install there needs to be someplace to put the new stuff: ideas, activities, energies, feelings, resources, knowledge. Before I can receive there must be a place to put the gifts and I must ask for what I require.

What has been, is in process or should be cleared?

I’ve let go: my wife, home, much ease, many illusions, many habits, many distractions, many fears, many structures of conception which did not serve.

I’ve noticed that there are still hold-out bits mentally/emotionally regarding the marriage, the house and some concern over my stuff. These thoughts are poisonous, contain anger, fear, vengefulness and nonabundant energy. I am ready to let go of all of this and invite spirit to enter and guide me. I choose the high road. I ask for grace and guidance in letting go of what is done and creating a blessed place for the life I have chosen and which I am being guided to.

I send blessings to SG (this term will represent the partner who I am separated from and stands for Sleeping Guru. This designation has meaning for me and will gain substance for those who read Guerilla Love Artist) and all of the healing she requires. I release my anger and other toxic feelings and invite the light to cleanse me. I forgive her and I forgive myself. I release the house and make a promise to myself that I will not squabble over whatever articles remain in question, I ask spirit to assist in dispensing all as is necessary, to each that which they require to be whole. I have what I need. When the time comes for our final agreements let us arrive and leave each other with simple peace.

Energy Clear? I release my poor posture, uncomfortable body placements and internal pressurization that leads to loss of calm. Danshari!

I release my unconsciousness that appears in any guise.. ego-talk, “aggressive” conversation, disrespect, disdain, anger, fear, guilt, destructive habits, struggle and nonabundance, eating fast.

I release any anger I have left for anyone. Let all of me be filled with compassion for all beings, including myself. I forgive and ask to be forgiven by those who need this peace to heal. Let that compassion be expressed in my words, actions, thoughts, emotions and what pervades and surrounds my path.

I hereby lay down all of these objects/subjects of old and my spent relationships to them and to those people who they touch. Let all of these be burnt in offering in the fires of spiritual purification. And let what comes forth from the ashes be the most pure life, essence and purpose.

With this empty vessel (this new crucible):

I set my intentions anew. If there are intentions from previous that are still worthy or in need of upholding, then I trust they will come forth and assert themselves. What has been cleared is cleared by my will, my intention and by the grace of spirit. This Empty vessel is awaiting fulfilment by love, grace and devotion. I invite spirit to enter me through my breath, my mind, my body, my will and vision to help me fill this holy vessel.

Selfless Service to all mankind. I am a hand of God.

Practice, the bits I have together: I feel in the midst of metamorphosis. Here I will lay down the ingredients as I see them and how I intend to proceed.

Ysiita is with me and I feel that I have found truly a soul partner. If grace will grant then I will (and am) take Ysiita, Miss Guerilla to me and create a life of grace, dignity, art, passion, generosity and Joy. If it is the will of spirit we will create a family to help steward the next phase of earth development.

****** I'll skip the logistical details here.

Path to freedom is led by risking what we think we have in the quest to open our heart become what we are. Don't get to comfortable Jack!

Love and Light

Guerilla Love | Genesis

Art imitates life, Life imitates art. After I saw this rotation occur a few thousand-million times from the eyes of a gaggle of lifetimes on miriad planets in different galaxies inhabiting sundry bodies equiped with all kinds of bizarre mouths, appendages and genitalia, while taking pleasure from things I have no definitions for... I've realized that the imitation part can be reflected upon, fermented and evolved into something more authentic. Life can become an art form in itself. I am my own greatest work. Only the carcass-strewn road behind and the untouched canvas ahead.

I'm writing this from a restaurant and hotel called Ngoc Hoa owned by a Mr. Tuan. I'm sitting in a blue plastic lawn chair beside a laminate table with blue/red plaid cloth. A tourist joint, it is my Starbucks of the northern Vietnamese, Cat Ba island beach. There is a flat screen TV over where Tuan, his staff and presumably his daughter or young lover are have lunch. The TV is airing some fashion catwalk bathing suit models to a repetitive loop of the jazzy "Hey Mambo" song from I think... 50's.

Tuan is a native of the island and speaks very functional if narrow english. Tuan also seems to have some perspective which many I've met in my travels seem to be missing. I wouldn't describe him as an artist, but he has a quality of authenticity that he delivers consistently. His daughter sings what I would consider crappy pop song (singular) over and over again in the restaurant. I find this distracting, but it does not agrivate me nor prompt me to leave. She sings a song I don't appreciate, but she sings it very well and the repetition, which I find maddening, bespeaks passion of an artist. I've met artists whose lives seem devoid of art. I've met people who don't paint but who live their lives with vision.

If I were feeling dialectic I might say that the one who lives the vision has some artifact of achievement in hand which the struggling artist, whose life is a seeming series of misdirections, is indeed searching for through his painting process which is really an aspect of his soul which has been severed from the rest of his life. I might say that, but it's just a convolution to swim through and consider. I don't believe it. Both are experiences I feel I've had at different times and both are highly instructive.

Instructive of what? What do we want as individuals? To me the gold is taking the visionary process of painting or designing a thing out of the isolate box of creating just that one thing and seeing how everything in our experience is a seamless canvas upon which we can create. Keep expanding the vision and include ourselves within it. As our painting blends with those around us we give birth to a thrilling collaborative vision. Poof Eden!

Guerilla Love Artist

Love with Impunity.

Go Ape!

J.W. Starr
Guerilla Love Artist