Click on image to enlarge

Heard a financial advisor on NPR talking about how much money someone needs to have saved before they can retire in anything like “comfort”, presuming we’re all going to live into our 80′s and possible beyond. I could tell where this was leading so I reached for the radio and turned it off…but not in time to avoid hearing The Number. Suffice to say it’s big and scary. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but at the same time I detected a small voice from within saying, “I’ll be curious to see how I pull off this whole aging thing.”

Thus I offer this little tribute to the idea that we can elect to be curious rather than fearful.

In a single, smooth motion she both thanked me “Well, we appreciate your business, sir” and, having nicely centered the mint atop my deposit receipt, handed both to me through the opening, with enthusiasm and a hometown, midwest smiley, head-cocked niceness that even though my teller’s name was Fatima, made me feel like…well everything was going to be alright. What could I do but smile back, say “thank you” and accept this “thank you” gift? Nicely. The mint. Fatima. WF. All of it.

I have a binder where keep my monthly financial records; bills owed, when due, check boxes for when I pay them and what method I use for paying them (online, BillPay, check). I created the form myself. I could use a spreadsheet sheet, or Quickbooks, but I prefer this “analog” method of fiscal records management for some reason, even though the entire rest of my life has been digitized. I’ve been using this method for about 31 years but last year I printed out a photograph of a neon sign I found on the web and put in on the cover of my binder. Lovely, ethereal, glowing, blue upper case letters saying “EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT”.

I have placed my “thank you” mint nicely in the pocket of my binder along with next month’s bills.

So, when I read something that accomplishes what I can’t seem to do, and in this case that would be capturing the marrow-level yearning of us all for our country to change, stated in a way that addresses the common denominator of our humanity, I feel compelled to pass it along. I think you’ll agree that what follows is much more than simply another partisan treatise on Barack Obama. It’s a statement made using a page out of Obama’s playbook; public discourse need not be drawn into the same seamy depths as reality TV. That there isn’t one set of rules for winning elections and another set for conducting one’s life. It’s by my cousin David Wally. Enjoy. And vote.

Dear Fellow American,

With less than eight weeks to go before our presidential election, the national polls reflect that the race remains basically deadlocked. Once again, our large country appears to be nearly evenly divided. With so much at stake, if you would be so kind, please allow me to make my case regarding which candidate would best lead us over the next four years…

First we must ask ourselves a simple question – “Who are we?”

We are all human.

Before we are male or female, young or old, straight or gay, rich or poor, thin or fat, Mac or PC, Christian or Jew or Muslim or Atheist, Black or White or Brown or Green, Democrat or Republican or Independent or Just Plain Fed Up –

– Before people with personal and professional agendas try to drive a wedge between the rest of us and convince us all that we are each others mortal enemies –

– First we are human.

And, as humans, we have to share this third rock from the sun. And, while our global population grows, this planet ain’t getting any bigger.

But, in America, many things are growing larger – the casualty counts in Iraq and Afghanistan, the demand for natural resources, the price of oil, the price of food, the national debt, the gap between rich and poor, the size of our classrooms, the number of home foreclosures, and the number of Americans who believe our country has drifted far too far down the wrong track.

After eight years of the Bush Administration, 80% of Americans think we are on the wrong track. This dissatisfaction crosses party lines and gender, race and age, sexuality and religion, smoking and non-smoking, tastes great and less filling.

The cold hard fact is that our country is not simply dissatisfied. We are depressed.

Our economy, our faith in institutions, our standing in the world community, our collective psyche, our spirit.

Depressed.

But though we may find ourselves down, it is time to pick ourselves back up once again. It is not the time to pull the covers over our heads, it is not the time to bury our heads in the sand.

It is time to use our heads.

It is time to pay attention to the world around us. It is time to assess the situation. It is time to separate the facts from the fiction. It is time to focus on which presidential candidate you want to lead our country for the crucial next four years. It is time to look deep within your soul and ask yourself some honest questions.

When you turn off the lights and lay your head on the pillow and put to bed your realities and dream about your future, ask yourself these simple questions –

– Do the daily media distractions and political attacks have anything whatsoever to do with providing you and your family with a more prosperous future?

– Do the latest manufactured “outrages” that dominate the airwaves and websites have anything whatsoever to do with keeping our nation safe?

– Does the race or gender or age of these candidates have anything whatsoever to do with addressing and solving our country’s economic and national security crises?

– Are the pundits and analysts and bloggers and radio hosts really addressing your best interests? Or is it possible that they are just manipulating you to protect their own best interests?

Whether you are a Democrat or a Republican, ask yourself those questions.

Personally, I think that ALL of us basically want to get to the same place – A safe and prosperous future. We simply have different ideas, a different road map if you will, for how to get there.

Though I am a man, I recognize that women are just as capable of providing great leadership as I am. Though I am in my 40’s, I recognize that people in their 20’s have just as many valid ideas as I do. Though I am a non-believer, I recognize that my reverent friends are no more or less enlightened than I am. Though I am straight, I recognize that my gay and lesbian friends and family are entitled to the same civil rights as I am. Though I am a Democrat, I recognize that many of my Republican friends agree with me on plenty of important issues – even if we must agree to disagree on other matters of importance.

But in every case, we are all human. And in this country, we are all Americans.

For me, the candidate best suited to getting our country back on track is Barack Obama. He won me over four years ago, when he made the case, “There is not a Liberal America and a Conservative America, there is the United States of America.”

In that one short sentence, Senator Obama made the simple argument that we are all one people.

And that we need not treat each other as enemies.

Since then, I first hoped for – and then supported – Senator Obama’s candidacy. When he was far behind, when he pulled ahead, when things got close, when he fell behind again. Though I found plenty of admirable qualities in each of his opponents, it has been Senator Obama – for me – who has remained the candidate best suited to “push the reset button” on our troubled nation.

To be clear, I do not see Senator Obama as “The One” or a “Messiah” or a “Celebrity” or an “Elitist” or any of the other sarcastic labels his opponents and the corporate media have tried to make stick.

Rather, I see Senator Obama as a very gifted, thoughtful, rational, empathetic and (yes) articulate politician. He knows what the issues are, he knows that there are many ways to skin a cat, and he knows that – in our evenly divided country – the path to accomplishment is paved by the process of compromise and reconciliation.

Senator Obama has run under the mantle of “Change”. And after two years of campaigning, it is clear that America is demanding change. Political change.

A change from the way the Bush Administration has led our country.

And so, the question before us is simple – Which candidates policies would best effect that change?

In my humble opinion, this election has nothing to do with respecting either candidates biography, it has only to do with which direction these candidates would take the country – and which policies they would pursue to accomplish their agenda.

Though I have great respect for John McCain’s biography, the fact of the matter is that Senator McCain has politically supported George W. Bush over 90% of the time during the past eight years; and the policy positions Candidate McCain now puts forth promise an extension of the Bush Administration’s policies. With all due respect to this great American – Senator McCain does not promise change.

While each ticket has compelling human stories to tell, our futures are not dependent on the candidate’s biographies. I honor and respect Senator McCain’s service and sacrifice when he was a Prisoner of War, I honor and respect the crisis Senator Biden had to overcome when his wife and daughter were killed, I honor and respect the fact that Governor Palin is raising a baby born with a disability, I honor and respect the fact that Senator Obama was raised by a single mother and returned to help his community prosper rather than cash in on his education with a cushy Wall Street job.

All of these biographies are compelling. But none of these biographies inform how these candidates would govern our nation. We need to focus on their policies.

In short – For our well being, this election must be about the Steak, not the Sizzle.

While there are plenty of sizzling distractions put forth by the campaigns and the media and the blogosphere, each of us needs to recognize that there is a stark difference between the two presidential candidates on virtually every single meaty policy issue one can imagine (the economy, foreign policy, the military, social issues, civil rights, privacy rights, the Supreme Court, and so much more).

If you are unfamiliar with their policy positions, there is ample information available on both candidate’s websites. We can debate the micro points, but for me, this election is about the macro crises we face.

The big picture.

And, with that in mind, the determining factor should really be quite simple:

If you are happy with the direction of the country, you should probably vote for John McCain and Sarah Palin.

But if you share my assessment that our country has drifted deeply and dangerously down the wrong track, then the only real choice for “Change” in this election is to vote for Barack Obama and Joe Biden.

This is not a popularity contest, it is not “American Idol” and it is not a football game. This is a very serious decision we have to make.

Regardless of whether or not you agree with me or support my candidate – for your own sakes – please make sure that you ask yourself those tough questions and arrive at your decision based on the realities we face rather than the mirages that are manufactured to distract us.

With great respect, thank you for allowing me to present my argument.

Sincerely,

David Wally

Okay so here it is…I am but a poor, country graphic designer, not a wealthy person, yet not without the basic necessities of life either, like HBO but rich, oh yes, rich in spirit, having been amply blessed with a wonderful wife (more to come on that later…hon’), wonderful children, a lovely home, a career I’m passionate about, a wonderful, supportive family, and…well other non-material stuff like that. Truth be told, I want for nothing….but a Vespa. And I’m willing to plunder new depths of gullibility and silliness to get one.

A little backstory…

I had a friend once named Russ, a moose of a guy with long, flaming red hair and freckles and black, horn-rimmed glasses. Russ was a computer programmer for a charter airline back when it took a computer programmer to turn on a computer. For you Millennials that would be BMS (Before MySpace). Russ used to get free passage on charter flights whenever he wanted so he’d routinely fly to India or Afghanistan on a Friday, drop acid in some monkey-infested jungle temple and come home on Monday and program more flight schedules. This has nothing to do with the fact that my friend Russ also had a Vespa, although it may provide some insight into why the company went belly up in 1986.

By himself, Russ was quite a spectacle riding his lime green scooter down Main Street on a Friday night, red hair streaming behind him (picture a Sasquatch with glasses on a scooter) those 50cc’s of Vespa power making that trademark (and oh so manly) “phht…phht” as he paused at each stop light. As it turned out, the two of us riding the same lime green scooter was even more of a chick repellent, as we discovered each Friday night as we “Cruised-the-Main” for the ever elusive “hot babes”. In retrospect, I wonder how we even would have transported a “hot babe” or “babes” if by some miracle we did attract any. Ahhh…so THAT’S why we never…

Occasionally, Russ would let me borrow his Vespa thus providing me with some of the more sublime counter-culture memories of my youth. A scooter, and especially a Vespa, was not (and still isn’t) merely a means of transportation but a personal statement on two, small, unstable wheels. Let’s face it, riding a scooter is almost self destructively geeky; there is no way to look cool on one. You could be Brad Pitt, with Angelina riding on the back, (are they still together…if not sub in whomever?) and they’d look impossibly nerdy on a scooter, especially in this day and age of mandatory helmet laws. By the way, back in the “day” when we were “Rebels Without Real Motorcycles” , we purposely avoided wearing helmets, which we saw as symbolic of government repression. We scoffed at the “man’s” helmet laws and a system clearly bent on subjugating the people by forcing them to wear protective head coverings that while possibly preventing serious brain trauma, causing the “people” to wind up with the IQ of a cabbage and inventing reality TV, were just way too establishment for radicals like us. Besides, Russ’ Vespa only had a top speed of about 30 mph so we justified it that way, too. How bad could it be…hitting the pavement with your naked skull at 30 mph? Looking back, for nerdy types, we used some tragically flawed risk analysis. At any rate, riding a Vespa shouted to the world, “I’m counter culture, I’m mod, I’m Sting in “Quadrophenia” or I will be when the movie is released in about seven years.

But all that was then and all this is now so why do I suddenly want a Vespa at my age when I should be driving something more….Republican? Is it purely for nostalgic reasons? Midlife crisis? I asked my therapist…

Therapist: “So Jim, I’m a little baffled. Why a Vespa? Why an Italian motor scooter? Why not the ultra sexy, expensive, archetypal red sports car, symbol of the male midlife crisis?

Me: “Good point, Doc. Screw the Vespa. I can get behind a red sports car, no problem. You selling one? Take PayPal?”

Therapist: “I see our time is up”.

Still the question persists…why the obsession with a sexy, albeit geektastic Italian scooter? I’ve prepared a bulleted list of reasons, with footnotes:

• Vespa’s are sculpture on wheels. I’ve ridden but never owned the vehicular work of art that is Vespa. The closest I’ve come is a 1950 DeSoto with a light-up hood ornament which clearly missed by a mile.
• They go fast enough to be fun and slow enough to be safe(ish). I had a “real” motorcycle once. It was really fast, like if you twisted the throttle too hard and too fast while standing still, you could change zip codes before you could say “zip codes”. I was nearly lobotomized every time a bug hit me in my forehead/windshield.

There are also numerous environmental reasons I won’t bore you with, for example:

• They emit fresh air in lieu of noxious exhaust via a process called “motosynthesis” whereby the Vespa actually converts emissions from other polluting vehicles returning life-giving pure oxygen into the atmosphere.(1)
• Al Gore drives a Vespa.(2)
• They get 72 mpg. I could go to Geyserville on one gallon of gas for crap’s sake! It would take me 3 days but hey…Geyserville!

Even more reasons…

• The old argument of “motorcycles are too dangerous for someone with a family and responsibilities to drive” no longer applies. My kids are grown now and if I get munched by a semi, they won’t miss me nearly as much compared to when they were small and dependent on me for their allowance, etc., right girls? And that statement alone proves I’ve abandoned all familial responsibilities.
• One of my other avocations is bicycling and I would submit that riding in traffic and on nasty Bay Area roads is a lot more statistically dangerous than riding a scooter. That’s either a really valid point or I’ve just built a case for my wife to refuse to let me have a scooter or a bicycle.

The above reasons, some admittedly weak but nicely bulleted nonetheless, I believe amply support my case and bolster my resolve for obtaining a Vespa. The thing is…and here comes the whole reason for this blog entry… at the moment I really can’t afford to shell out the $4,229.00 dollars required to purchase that 2008 Dragon Red, Vespa LX 150 (not including tax and license, helmet and accessories which may or may not include a leather seat and full LX chrome kit). Not that I haven’t occasionally committed random acts of self-directed, fiscally impulsive kindness in order to acquire certain “objects d’obsession” but generally not for the “big toys”.

So then, exactly how does any self respecting, left coast progressive, former contributing member of the Institute of Noetic Sciences take on such a daunting and inane challenge in 2007? By manifesting it…duh.

I Give You…Operation Vespa Manifesta.

By using the latest in quantum physical pseudo-scientific techniques I will use the power of intention, creative visualization if you will, or for the lay person; making shit happen by thinking about it real hard…to get a Vespa within let’s say, the next 6 months, give or take. But to pull it off I need your help, oh kind reader of this blog. And before you say “no way…I gave you all my money so you could ride your bike to LA…and by the way what the hell’s a Noetic?” let me assure you I’m not asking for financial aid. I just need to borrow a little mental energy, that’s all. No cost, no obligation…let me ‘splain further…

Just take a stroll down any Spirituality>Humanism aisle of any Barnes and Noble and you’ll note a marked proliferation of books on the topic of “Changing Your Life by Asking the Universe for Stuff” , the most recently famous of which is “The Secret” by Rhonda Byrne, which has captured the public imagination and ushered in a new age of selfishness we haven’t seen the likes of since the 70′s. But the premise of “The Secret”, namely that one’s attitude can change one’s reality, is nothing new or even New Age. I give you Norman Vincent Peale (1898-1993) who in 1952 wrote “The Power of Positive Thinking”, a book which has sold over 7 million copies to date, influenced millions of people, including Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan, with its message of denying all things negative, repetition of positive affirmations and practicing self hypnosis. Nixon obviously got the denial part. Peale, an ordained minister, attributes most of what happens to us in our lives ultimately to divine intervention so I’d have to part paths with him at that point BUT I would go out on a limb and suggest that if there is a god, he drives an Italian scooter. C’mon the Pope, Vespa…same country?

My first exposure to this “mind over matter” stuff was c. 1980 in a book by Shakti Gawain called “Creative Visualization”. I may still have the dog-eared paperback in a box in the attic with “Be Here Now” by Ram Dass, “Notes to Myself” by Hugh Prather, and my collection of turquoise roach clips.

Shakti Gawain posits that thoughts really do have their own energy and do influence events in our lives , allowing the universal doors of prosperity and abundance to swing wide if we can just clear our minds and focus on the problem. And at that time I believed anyone named Shakti.

Her seminal work was republished in 2002, a bit in advance of this latest surge of interest in the topic, but just as some landmark research was being conducted by some fairly big-time, university funded science types (Read “The Intention Experiment” by Lynne McTaggart) In a nutshell, there’s more to this stuff than one might think, like it might be true that we can send each other thoughts across time and space and as a result a lot of Buddhist monks are carving out whole new career paths as academic research subjects. What it all may come down to at some point is the fact that thoughts really are “things” , with substance and form and that we may all be connected by ubiquitous fields of unseen energy that we can actually harness as we become aware and more mentally disciplined. That we can actually manipulate these “fields” by gaining mastery over our mental states, achieving miraculous outcomes in our lives, possibly even ushering in a new age where all beings can break free of the bonds of physical space and get their own Vespas.

THE VESPA MANIFESTA ACTION PLAN

STEP ONE: Write the central goal on an index card and describe the feelings associated with reaching that goal. In other words clearly imagine what it would be like to go down the inside stairs into my garage, put on my helmet, sit astride my shiny red Vespa LX 150, start it up, put it in gear, realize I didn’t open the garage door, get off my Vespa, realize I didn’t put the kick stand down, lift my Vespa off the garage floor and back to vertical, put the kick stand down, open the garage door…repeat first four steps and take off down the road just like I did in the mid-seventies on Russ’ lime green S50 on one of many adventurous forays into quasi-rebellious, counter cultural semi-coolness.

STEP TWO: Devote 10 minutes/day to meditating on the above index card.

STEP THREE: Collect my new Vespa.

The success of the Vespa Manifesta plan naturally depends on my letting go of negative outcomes ala Norman Vincent Peale, and only embracing the possibility of this thing actually happening. But, like any good narcissistic endeavor, one must have someone or some thing to blame in case it doesn’t (Shakti forbid) work out exactly as planned. That’s where you, kind reader, come in. Studies have shown that it takes a village, or at least it helps, in this whole manifesting thing. The more positive energy the merrier, as it were. So if you have a minute, could you pause where you are, close your eyes, and try to visualize “yours truly” riding my new, red, 2008 Vespa described in paragraph 8? I’ve included a visual below to make that easier although it’s of a girl so make adjustments where necessary, thanks. Oh, and please include the LX chrome accessory kit while you’re at it. There. That wasn’t so hard. By the way, no driving and manifesting.

So you’re asking, “what’s in it for me?” and “why should I be directing my precious bodily energy toward someone’s adolescent fantasy when I could be manifesting world peace or an end to global warming?” (3)

All I can tell you is that there’s room for two on this particular Vespa model, therefore anyone who contributors to my Vespa Manifestation has automatically reserved him/herself a free ride down Main Street on Friday night on the back of one of the coolest, sleekest, seriously bad ass rides around. (4)

1 I may have made that up.
2 I may have also made that up.
3 Not sure I have a good answer for that
4 Cruising the Main was officially banned in 1996. But I’ll pop for latte’s and Pottery Barn’s open until 9.

Click on the image to enlarge.

Since the middle of November when apparently Mercury started moving backwards through the zodiac (huh?..wouldn’t that totally mess stuff up? I’ve learned it’s all more or less an optical illusion) things have just been, for lack of a better term, out of whack. And since this happens three times a year and lasts for a couple of months each time, I rate this the biggest deal happening in the universe, hands down, on any given day, anywhere. It’s not like mountains crumble into the sea or Bush reads a book or anything that cataclysmic but damn, it’s gotta be the most annoying cosmic phenomenon out there. It’s a “death by a thousand cuts” thing, subtle, devious, a forgotten appointment here, a lost checkbook there. You break your favorite prescription sunglasses one day, then you lose your internet connection while uploading a client’s web site files. Example: For some reason my office phone will not connect on the first ring of the day. The second time someone calls, it works. Merc’ the Jerk at work.

My two lovely daughters are quite literate in this area, as is their mom who could write a book and does readings for people and has done mine more than a few times. As appreciative as I am I honestly retain very little of what comes out of these sessions although I’m always on alert when one of them says, “Well, you know Mercury is in retrograde right now” to which I’ll inevitably reply “Ah ha, I knew it!” having just tried to replace my watch battery and broken the glass bezel or randomly purged my ATM PIN number from my brain while at the checkout stand.

If nothing else about astrology is true, even someday proven to be just a bunch of pseudo-scientific hokum I’ll have to raise my hand in defense of Mercury being a deal breaker. Clearly, it’s the most bad-ass, malevolent orb in the solar system, hands down. This retro spell we’re in now supposedly lasts until December 21 so hang in there but don’t be surprised if your xmas tree drops it’s needles on xmas eve and the egg nog turns bad a week before the expiration date.

I offer this little illustration in tribute. FYI…I built it around an illustration in a “How to Become a Police Artist” ad I found in a 1963 Popular Science magazine.

And here’s where you can get some more information. Hope the link works.

Click on the image to enlarge.

In case you don’t each have enough on your metaphysical “plates”, I hereby request a consult on the following rather eerie events involving….dum-dum-dummmm….me and snakes!

And not only snakes but the ratt-ly kind and my recent tendency to attract them…wherein…

A few weeks ago my sister Laurie and I were hiking on Mt. Diablo (now no longer in danger of being re-named Mt. Jesus by some neo-con-evangelists, thank goddess (he-he). We were coming out of Sycamore Canyon near Curry Point when I actually stepped on a rattlesnake as it was “booking” across the trail. “Booking” is a term often used by herpatologists to describe snakes when they’re moving faster than 60 mph. It was going so fast it left a straight line in the dust instead of the characteristic zig-zig pattern. Anyway–I noticed something kind of well…wiggly…under my left boot and sure enough I’d come down right on his head. After leaping straight into the air like a Saturday morning cartoon character, it continued its’ “book” across the path, apparently unscathed, and only then I noticed it was a young Western rattler, about 18 in. long. Two or three rattles…pissed.

So okay, adrenaline rush but no harm, no foul. Then about 50 yards further up the trail, we were no longer talking but scanning the trail ahead for “sticks” with fangs, Laurie suddenly stopped in her tracks and at the same time put her hand on my left shoulder to stop me from proceeding further, which I immediately interpreted as “something large and menacing just landed on you—don’t move”. Naturally, and being a little jumpy already, I ignored her and launched into what would later be called the “White Guy Dance of Panic” trying to shake off whatever beast was about to sink its’ fangs into my neck. This involved several gyrations and jerking movements that propelled me forward about 6 feet up the trail in the direction of…yes, you guessed it…another rattlesnake, this one not “booking” but “chilling” directly in our path. She saw it, I didn’t but would soon…

Laurie tried in vain to calm me down by yelling “You idiot..what are you doing?!!” But I was busy whirling like a dirvish thus when I finally caught on to what the “problem” was, I was standing directly over the snake. Fortunately, it was another smallish rattler, curled up, in fact I thought it may actually be dead or injured for its’ lack of notice it had taken of me and my spastic behavior. I looked down, gathered my thoughts, weighed my options, considered wetting myself but instead backed away slowly. I found a stick and nudged it a bit. It was definitely alive and slithered off…pissed.

At this point I thought I would start talking in parsiltongue or something. I’d seen maybe two rattlesnakes in the wild before, one of them on a cold day near Brushy Peak after eating a rodent (the snake, not me) and it was so docile I could have eaten my Cliff Bar off it’s back. The other one came out of the ground right before kickoff on a soccer field in Concord. Sara did some moves that are still being talked about in that adult league.

Okay…so fast forward to yesterday. The gardener Roberto we hired to defoliate our back yard, told me after he was nearly done that he’d run across not one, but “dos serpientes” under the leaf litter and debris. I thought, okay, gopher snakes. We live next to some open space, and probably several gophers…gotta be gopher snakes. “Serpiente de los gophers”…I offered in my pristine spanglish. Shaking his head he wiggled his pinky finger back and forth and made a hissing sound. Then he spread his arms out wide as someone would lie about the “fish I caught once” and a little chill ran up my spine. I had been stomping around up there that very morning in my Birkenstocks noting which trees I wanted Roberto to remove and probably walked right over the “dos serpientes” several times in the process. And these weren’t little ones but “serpientes grande”.

So here’s my question to all you “knowers of ancient wisdom” and “readers of sign and wonders”. What the hell is going on with the two rattlesnakes thing? And the narrow escapes? And the fact that they seem to be getting incrementally bigger? I’m about to do some research into Buddhist lore since I am practicing again seriously but I’d really like to rule out:

A. That I didn’t piss off some Mayan snake god and this is just a warning.

B. That I shouldn’t take up base jumping immediately.

C. That I’m really just trapped in a video game.

D. That maybe I am indeed…The Chosen One.

Any mythic correlations or shamanic interpretations are welcome. Thankssssssssssss…..