On Cities Of Light

Many years ago - circa 1960 - I wrote a screenplay about a youngish American man who, after serving his 'national service' time in Korea or Vietnam (it was left deliberately vague as to the time factor of the story, hinting at the idea that the story was timeless), ended up in a small fishing village in Mexico where there was an artist colony.  Connected to it to some degree (and to its founder and lead character, an older Mexican woman), he gets involved in a series of paintings of a young American woman, recent college graduate, drawn there to visit her father, a businessman (engaged in some sort of shady operation with two other business-type Wise Guys under the cover of a fishing holiday), on her way to Europe (and the Old-World jaded, sophisticated, decadent scene there, it is implied), and who 'ripens' under the searing sun, and on his canvases, to a dark brown (shades of the American demographics of today...).  The plot thickens, as they say, and she is slain by a jealous Mexican girl, which act causes our Hero, in existential pain and anguish (the loss of the dream, perhaps??  And that he had a role in it, even after 'rejecting' any contact with America for non-identity and a creative life in Mexico, but which perhaps caused him to deny his true identity, for its being too big for him to face up to???  Think The Hero's Journey here), to pack up his few belongings and leave the 'safe,' anonymous life in and confines of an artist colony, and small village in nowheresville.  On his way to wherever, he is joined by an Hispanic guy, of roughly his same age, who had ostensibly been one of the students at the colony, but who appeared to have some relation to a mysterious revolutionary pod within it.  At first a secret enemy of our Hero - Name of Ray; the colony's mistress calls him Raymundo, and who has been trying to wheedle out of him his true 'colors' as an artist, which, for whatever (plot) reason(s), he seems to have been reluctant to 'own' - said Third World guy, who has had as well a secret admiration for Ray, and is ultimately remorseful for his sinuous role in encouraging the Mexican girl in her outright act (their intention has been to overthrow El Gringo and Norte America itself, and return it to its Aztlan roots, and they need the peasantry to back them up, but the villagers have too much respect for Ray to go along with their machinations; so they needed to bring him down in their eyes, and, hopefully, out of their sector of revolutionary activity), decides to up sticks from his revolutionary role and join Ray 'on the road'.  Some miles out of the village - now in the mountains - they take a short rest, and Third World Guy - for all the world appearing like an apostle - asks our Hero what he is going to do.  Ray pauses for a moment; and then murmurs, as if reporting on a dream:

"I'd like to be in on the building of a city…"

I wasn't sure precisely what I was talking about at the time.  I was just reporting on what my character had come up with, as to his post-non-identity purpose in life.  (And I ended up depicting him, with some other youngish humans, building a city in open country around a pyramid; to which was then attracted some humanoid ETs, seen stepping out of their landed UFOs to greet him; their coming together again looking, in the overhead pulling-away aerial shot, for all the world like a genetic re-fusing of parts.)  In my mind was the idea of a 'City of Light'.  I  didn't know quite what I meant by that term.  But basically, a spiritual City, for spiritual-subject lesson-learning.  Since then, I have come across a number of references, by 'spiritual' types of people, to such places, though mostly in references to their being on higher realms.  Although, the spiritual community that I joined in the next decade, and was a member of for many years (leaving to return to my home country in 2012, and get involved in the political scene here, to some extent; another story), was founded by a trio of spiritual souls who talked about their intention of building a City of Light on Earth; to which I resonated, and which primarily caused me to join their 'cause'.  Alas; that vision, of those Founders, seems to have faded from view, and consciousness, of the current membership, who seem to be caught up simply on living a 'New Age' lifestyle.  From a cutting-edge spiritual community to a middle-class 'human & personal development' workshop centre…  (Meat and milk come to mind.)

Needless to say, I would still like "to be in on" such a project.  Here.  Anchoring The Light, as it were.          

I say all this because of the recent blogs of a woman who has an inner life along these lines, and who now feels herself on her way to such a City, on a higher level than our current level of reality.

I'll do my work here, myself. But I wish her well.  And know well the feeling.

All of which is by way of saying, that

We have our work cut out for us to do.

I don't want to hear talk of boredom.

You ain't seen nothin' yet.

---

P.S. Speaking of 'spiritual types' and their blogs, today I received my periodic 'Messages from Matthew,' via his (former) mother, Suzy Ward.  (matthewbooks.com)  I don't usually pay too much attention to them - I read a lot of such channelings, from various other 'spiritual' types, and like to compare them to each other, for a general feeling of what's coming through such people these days - because I don't trust this source, inasmuch as he/it is very big on Obama being a high-level spiritual being.  (What am I, chopped liver because I'm so angry at him and his Cabalistic backers for being so arrogant about simply rewriting the Constitution and its 'rule of law' in their favor, as regards the eligibility of a person for the highest office in the land?  This is my country.  Hijackers stay the hell out.  You'll get yours, whether from Philistines like me, or others, equally incensed at the hijacking going on of their country, too.)  But I did get a chuckle out of this one.  After trying to explain why there has been a delay in the landing of a Golden Age on the planet (the 'argument' is that many of those souls who chose to take parts on the dark side in The Play going on, to bring human history to a conclusion, became enamored of their roles, and won't let go of them.  Hey - what about Obama too, you idiot???), 'Matthew' concluded his message thusly:

'Our beloved Earth family, if we knew when the major changes you asked about will come to pass, we would rejoice in telling you—our last message explained why we don’t know. Even God doesn’t know. Let me speak for myself for a moment to give you a little illustration about foreknowledge of free will choices. Several years ago, when two men were courting my sister, my mother asked God which she would choose or neither. God said, “I don’t know.” My mother asked how He could not know since she is a part of Him, and God replied, “Yes, and as soon as she knows, so will I.”'   

You have to (at the least, kind of) admire an attitude, and response, like that.

And on that note…

that's it for tonight.