DO NOT Help Me Write

****I’ll start by saying that recently, a “Help Me Write” by Google feature, has popped up when I am writing my blog, whenever I take a moment to think, or if I go back to parts of my post to make changes. I find this incredibly annoying. I will NEVER utilize this feature. (thus the typos, the awkward sentences, and my own, creative-licensed grammar rules) I am saddened by the idea of anyone’s individual “voice” to be taken out of our own unique writing. Our writing should be an extension of us, as individual as our fingerprints and our handwriting. We are all authentic, unrepeatable individuals. Even identical twins are not copies of each other because it is impossible to have the very same identical experiences, every moment of the day. Just as our DNA, our genes, our proclivities and our heritage make up the whole of us, so do our experiences, and our reactions to our experiences, and all of this is uniquely unrepeatable and precious. When I write, it comes from my own uniquely unrepeatable heart’s energy, not from an inhuman algorithm.****

Speaking of incredibly unique and authentic individuals, recently I purchased something on eBay, and I got into a conversation about the item with the seller. The seller turned out to be the daughter of two extremely intriguing, interesting, colorful characters (now deceased) who were a married couple and utterly devoted to each other, and also to their individual, exotic pursuits. The husband, Mentor Huebner was a prolific artist who worked for movie studios in Hollywood and created conceptual designs for 250 movie sets including the movies like Blade Runner, Ben Hur, King Kong, Lord of the Rings, etc. According to his wife, Mentor enjoyed painting so much that she would often have to beg him to stop painting, just to eat. Because Mentor was employed by movie studios, he didn’t have to rely on collectors buying his paintings for his living, and he was known to turn down exorbitant offers if he didn’t like the buyer, and other times he gave away his paintings (worth $1000s of dollars) to people whom he did like. The wife, Louise Huebner, was pronounced “The Official Witch of Los Angeles County” at the Hollywood Bowl in 1968. She considered herself to be a generational witch and she wrote many books and appeared on many radio programs and talk shows such as The Johnny Carson Show, discussing occult matters. When the daughter mentioned her parents in our message exchange, I went down a rabbit hole (as it is so easy to do on the internet) to learn more about these fascinating people.

Mentor Huebner died in 2001. In 2003, Louise Huebner created a website devoted to his life and his art. Louise died in 2014, but the Mentor Huebner website remains. Underneath a running clock, are these words:

Revelations of Mentor’s Life and Art

Public and Personal

Will Continue to Appear On This Ever to Be Expanding Site

Forever!

Or at the Very Least as is True of the Universe

Until the End of Time.

I find exotic, unapologetically authentic, audacious, passionate people so interesting and inspiring. They live their lives so bravely and honestly and unapologetically. They live lives as they feel inclined and guided to do, and they are not at all concerned with what other people’s opinions about how they should conduct themselves. They are inimitable. I don’t imagine that they go to their graves with regrets.

Clearly the Huebers shared a passionate love and mutual admiration for one another. Louise wrote loads of poetry and almost all of her poems were devoted to Mentor. A poem that she wrote ten days before Mentor passed, compares herself to a Pharaoh’s wife terrified to be put in the tomb alive with the Pharaoh’s body. In her poem, “Until Death Do Us Part” Louise Huebner writes, “I however enter my grave of grief most willingly.” She compares herself to the Egyptian wife: “But there is a thing she and I seem to have in common ~ we ignore everything we have been taught and so often are inappropriate.” She ends the poem with this verse filled with her passionate devotion to her husband, again comparing herself to the ancient Egyptian Pharoah’s wife: “Yet she spent the rest of her life screaming to get out of her husband’s grave, and it looks as though I will spend the rest of mine, screaming to get in.”

Everyone has a story. You do, too. It’s more interesting than you could possibly realize. Start telling your story. Better yet, start living it. Be true to your innermost longings, inclinations and intuitions. You deserve to experience the truest, fullest version of you. We all do. Imagine a world of inimitable, uninhibited, passionate, talented, unapologetic people, living lives true to themselves. What an amazing, exhilarating world it would be (and not one of us would be utilizing Help Me Write/Live/Think/Love)!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

467. Do you have a scar? If so, how did you get it?