YES HELLO, Reader!!!

Venusian Transmission TIME! Is everything groovy and glowing in your realm? Have you taken a moment or twenty today to appreciate the beauty that is ever-present, swirling around you? Making the habit ov consciously appreciating beauty, in whatever form you fancy, is a fail-proof way to manifest more beauty in your LIFE. When you start to look for something, you begin to see it everywhere. Open your eyes and shine. The world is our mirror. What we see is a reflection ov who we are. Allow your brain to be beauty-processing wetware rather than a fear-replicating machine.

This week I was honored to be a guest panelist on Sarah Janes' Zoom salon series. Sarah Janes is a scholarly dream mystic, author, curator and ALL around lovely human being. I saw her on this podcast a couple months ago, a random click that played in the background while I made ARTE in my Scissor Temple. I was so enamored with Sarah Janes' story that I scoured the internet for her contact information so that I could personally reach out and express my gratitude for her spirit. She was kind enough to respond and sign up for this very newsletter, thus sparking a cherished discourse and budding friendship from afar. The topic ov discussion on her Zoom salon this week was "Story." There was an array ov guests: authors, curators, Norse mythologists, esotericists, occultists, filmmakers, artists, scholars, researchers, philosophers & poets who chimed in on the matter.

I was delighted to share the panel docket with Jessica Hundley, who is the curator for Taschen's magical book series: The Library ov Esoterica. I have cut up hundreds ov ARTE books without second thought, yet there is always a little pang ov guilt when I cut up The Library ov Esoterica books because they are SO beautiful. The books themselves are ARTE relics. Coincidentally, I cut up her Witchcraft book just last week when I made the Berkana collage I shared in last week's transmission. I appropriated the image that is displayed on the front cover ov her witchy compendium, not knowing I would be virtually sharing space with her the following week. Fancy that!

Anyways, it was a delightful conversation in which I shared an anecdotal story about how reading my OWN story, after landing a book deal with Rubedo Press in 2019 and compiling a memoir from my 3 Facebook accounts and analog diaries, ultimately changed the entire trajectory ov my LIFE. Reading my own story SAVED my LIFE, because it gave me the perspective I needed to realize that I was a drama-addicted, sick, selfish individual who was putting myself in perilous, pernicious situations with really dangerous and deranged people just so I would have some thrill juice to squeeze out online. I was haphazardly seeking chaotic thrills and self-harming as a sacrificial act for my radical-honesty, online-diary, performance-ARTE. I ended up deciding not to publish my memoir, aptly titled "Cackling Abyss," despite the contract I signed, because it was a sad story about a toxic, alcoholic, edge-lord, exhibitionist leaving a trail ov broken hearts, empty bottles and emotional wreckage in her wake. I wanted to write myself into a BETTER story. Something that was healthy, positive, loving and courageous in a heroic way-- not in a self destructive way. I did not want that version ov myself to be immortalized in ink on the printed, mass-produced pages ov a compendium that would only LIVE to haunt me. I got spooked by my own reflection and broke the mirror.

After 5 y-eras ov not writing ANYTHING, while I silently got the help I needed to get sober, rewire my nervous system, and untangle my traumas and attachment issues, I have reemerged like a phoenix to write a better story. You are in the front row seats to that rebirth. Alienbroadcast Transmissions is my first step back into documenting and sharing my LIFE again, from a better perspective, and with much healthier, self-respecting intentions.

​CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE "STORY" PANEL ON YOUTUBE​

We are ALL the authors ov our own narratives. We choose which characters we cast, which experiences we endure and the lessons we eke from each encounter. We are writing the script and the dialogue with each passing moment. With every thought, we are etching our monologues into the akashic record. Assume responsibility for your LIFE and create something spectacular and inspiring. You were not born to be a consumer. You are innately creative. Let's make something cool! Let's replicate LOVE and share it freely.

Speaking ov, here is the large scale analog collage I made this week. It is titled "Wild Woodland Wisdom." I LOVE alliteration; can you tell? This piece went through many iterations as I struggled to make an appealing composition with the stark vertical lines present in the foundational, forested, background image I selected. I finally achieved a movement and balance that was appealing to my aesthetics after many hours noodling with various cut-ups.

𒄆𓁹✞𒀱✞𓁹𒄆

​CLICK HERE TO BUY "WILD WOODLAND WISDOM"​

𒄆𓁹✞𒀱✞𓁹𒄆

I don't normally divulge what my collages mean to me, or the lessons that speak through to me, since ARTE is subjective and we each glean unique messages from every individual ARTE relic. However, I'll go ahead and share that "Wild Woodland Wisdom" is a portrayal ov the way Nature communes with us, nourishes us, inspires us, and influences us. The natural world is our garden, our apothecary, our playground, our sanctuary, and our lecture hall. I worship in the Church ov ALL Creation. I am taking the TIME to sharpen my senses so I may decipher the foreign languages whispered by the plants, animals and minerals. I speak to them with the belief that they are telepathic polyglots capable ov understanding my monkey musings. Every day I touch the bark ov my special tree on Spring Street, I feed the crows & I sing to my house plants. I am forging active relationships with the natural world around me. I am nature. So are you, Reader. We are part ov the abundant beauty ever-swirling in consensus reality.

As I spend most ov my TIME alone at home these daze, making ARTE and writing, I have been missing the community and service aspects ov daily LIFE that was baked into every service industry job I've worked. My heart yearned to actively help others in meaningful and tangible ways. A couple weeks ago, while feeding the crows, I decided to cross the street and investigate the church where there are always women hanging out in front who appear to be homeless. Lo and behold, after walking down the ramp into the hidden entrance I learned that it is a women's shelter. WHEEL Shelter. I popped my head in and inquired if they accept clothing donations. The young, purple-haired woman behind the thick, plastic barrier smilingly informed me that they indeed accept donations anytime. The room was full ov metal bunkbeds lined up in rows, half occupied with resting bodies even though it was midday.

I immediately went home a gathered up the bags ov clothes I intended to sell at Buffalo Exchange, adding more items from my shoe rack and closet to the mass. I marched back over and handed them off as my first donation. A tangible act ov service to help others in my community. It felt so good to donate my clothes to the women's shelter that I have started visiting the free pile more often in order to rescue trash-bound goods from the chaos in order to donate them to the women in need. Pillows, blankets, packages ov adult diapers, soap, bags, clothes, hats; I have intercepted ALL sorts ov perfectly good items heading to the landfill. Helping people in need is bloomin'.

It sparked something else in me. A couple weeks ago I had a chat with my new next door neighbor while we were waiting for the elevator. He was wearing scrubs and clearly works in the medical industry so I just started asking him questions. I learned that he is an ICU nurse at the hospital up the street and works really long hours. I also learned that his 17-year-old dog, Bubbles, very recently passed away, which explains why the new, incessant barking next door suddenly ceased. This week as I passed him in the hall I saw that he was carrying a young, furry thing in his arms. I decided to write him a letter and tape it to his door. Here is the note:

In less than an hour I got a call from an unknown number and it was my ecstatic neighbor. His name is Archie and he said that I am an angel from above and that he would LOVE to take me up on my offer. The next morning I went next door for coffee and got to meet 4-month-old Benji. Benji was shy and notably traumatized from his 7 day cross-country journey in a van. Archie has only had Benji for 2 daze so everything is really new and spooky. Archie offered to pay me for my dog nanny service which I happily accepted. Archie is going to give me a key to his apartment so that I am not beholden to hang out with Benji for the entire duration ov Archie's long work shifts. Archie also very generously said that I am allowed to borrow his car anytime I want, which is a MASSIVE boon, as I have been craving getting outta the city to chase some waterfalls. Also, Benji is one ov those small, long-haired breeds that doesn't shed which is really cool, because my wardrobe is black. Splendid! I am looking forward to Benji acclimating to his new environs and warming up to me. I've been daydreaming about having a side gig hanging out with other people's pets, so I am soul happy I wrote that note and offered to help a neighbor. Oh yeah, and Archie had my note magnetized to his refrigerator. He said it is the only kind note he has ever received from a neighbor. Seattle is such an insular, antisocial city. I've decided to do my part to be the warmth that melts the freeze.

I LOVE the rare instances when strangers kindly speak to me, out in the urban wild. On Thursday, yesterday, I was outside touching my special tree on Spring Street and a young black man, dressed in black, wearing large headphones walked past me. As he was walking by he said, "You gotta hug it!" "Excuse me?" "The tree. You gotta hug the tree!" "Oh yeah, I know." "No, I am serious. People don't know that. But you've gotta hug the trees."

He continued on his path without slowing down or looking back, and you know what? I took his advice. A random stranger on the street told me to hug my special Spring Street tree and I did. I felt a little awkward at first, as cars drove by and people passed me on the sidewalk, but as I wrapped my arms around the massive trunk, my self-consciousness softened into a sweet, calm, smiling serenity. In my logical mind, the notion ov hugging that tree felt really silly, as "tree-hugger" has so often been brandished as a pejorative, but I decided to lean into it, and you know what, Reader? It was fucking delightful and empowering. I am already out there feeding and talking to the crows without caring what people think, so why not hug a tree with the same self-confidence? Not ALL unsolicited advice we receive from random strangers is GOD-sent, but this instance sure felt like it.

Well, Reader. I am off to Portland on a train today to harness the new moon in Aries, with this crazy 7-planet Aries stellium adding fiery momentum to everything. I will very likely have more to say on the matter next week, but for now, as a reminder to myself and to those ov you who took the TIME to read this far: don't forget to breathe. You are safe. You are loved. You are inseparable from divinity. Every moment matters. Every breath is an expression ov your LIFE. LIFE is a gift. I am thankful for you, Reader. Thank you for being a witness to my truth. Thank you for living yours. May you have a fruitful week. May you have a laugh. May you create some fun. May you express your kindness. May you hug a tree and pet a dog and smell a flower.

BIG LOVE

GOLD BLESS YOU

JAI KALI MA!

YOUR FRIENDLY CYBERHOOD NEIGHBOR,

P.S. If you are enjoying these uncensored transmissions and you know any other mutants who may delight in weekly ARTE, music & musings, please send them to hannahhaddix.com to sign up for Alienbroadcast Transmissions! Or you could just forward them this email. Help me grow my tribe! Surely you can think ov at least one human who belongs here. PLEASE HELP THEM TUNE IN!

P.P.S. For those ov you hungry for more postcards, you are always welcome to get yourself (or a friend) a SURPRISE POSTCARD. Here is the link: CLICK HERE TO BUY A SURPRISE SNAIL MAIL POSTCARD! NO LIMITS! BUY AS MANY AS YOU WANT! I CAN MAIL POSTCARDS ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD!

P.P.P.S. I know I was seemingly dissing my past when talking about scrapping my memoir and desiring to write a new story. But, I think it deserves to be said that I honor my past and ALL my previous "incarnations" & narratives in this LIFETIME. I would not be who I am today if it weren't for learning ALL my lessons the hard way and living LIFE cackling on the edge ov the abyss. I needed to dive into the darkest depths in order to recognize the undimmable light within. There is no evolution in always playing it safe and sound. I am thankful for ALL my weird adventures and chaotic TIMES. I am even grateful for the bad actors who hurt me, their scars still evident on my flesh. There are blessings in ALL our perceived curses. Integrate and evolve. Deciding to be a better person doesn't require that you hate who you previously were. In fact, the opposite is true. LOVE ALL the phases ov your being. They are worth honoring.

(𓁹𓁿𓁹) ​
PEACE FOR ALL!

☻ BE BLOOMIN' ☻

ʕ⁠っ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠っ ♡ ❀

𓆙𓃹𓃚 𓅰 𓅬 𓅯 𓅓

丰HH丰

---Transmission over until next Friday---

​THEE TOTAL TRANSMISSIONS ARCHIVES​