Jeseppi Trade Wildfeather

Jeseppi Trade Wildfeather
Location
Schoharie County, New York, USA
Birthday
April 03
Title
Owner
Company
Three Barn Farm
Bio
I come from a long line of soothsayers dating back to Roman times known as "Segreto", which means "secret adviser". Salah El-Din Al-Ayubi, "Saladino", (1169-1250), a Trebuchet armed Arab General (cf.: "The Kingdom of Heaven" -the movie) contributed the genes through Grandma Nelli. Life has been interesting. I lived and studied in a Franciscan cult at the estate of Hamilton Fish in Garrison on the Hudson. The Cappuchins practiced an unnatural view of God and sex. They threw me out as soon as they realized I liked girls more than Herman Hesse, or certain men in dresses. Before "bells" came in, I attended the subway institute of dance in New York City until I traded the greaser life for a rubber finger at the US Trust Company, 45 Wall where bankers trade heavily in the tight colorful sweaters which encircle the massive breasts of seductively submissive receptionists. I volunteered for Vietnam and returned from my fog of war shrugging my shoulders like Robert Strange Mac Namarra with ..."Alright, we made some mistakes". Compelled to discover why all the killing, I hyper-focused on Dante and Jesus. In Italy a blinding revelation came to me while in ecstasy in Gubbio during an annual event, "Son you're in depression just go ahead and kill yourself." I'm still here thanks to San Steffano. Another voice came through –"Do that and you will be immersed in papal dung up to your balls listening to your uncle's Kingston Trio albums over and over again for the rest of eternity. I quickly repented and decided to limit myself to a strict regimen of lust and cute goddess face worship hoping to move up a chasm circle. I learned to discern the meaning of academic reliability in all fields except personal finance and human psychology. After graduation, I began my artistic pursuits in welded sculpture in a dismal basement warehouse studio next to a chemicals lab and got burned selling absolutely nothing while amassing thousands of pounds of rusting truck parts. I soon became a tradesman, and eventually became regarded as a skilled artisan in ceramic tile and marble with over two thousand hand crafted projects and the van your father warned you about. Syracuse, Walnut Creek and Berkeley were my playgrounds. Along my path I learned that God is Love, Life, and Truth; One. Could be your one. Could be my one. Could be any body's one. So long as God remains One. Double or triple Gods have difficulty parenting me. They argue. I believe that the Anointed One of Israel, Yeshua, Jesus, is the incarnation of love, life and truth. I believe his death saved me and the revelation of this truth came when I wholeheartedly repented, like Scrooge, of my lost and sinful life. I soon began to experience God's miraculous presence and grace toward me. Been there ever since. While a tradesman in 1989, I was formally ordained by invitation of the United Evangelistic Fellowship, Concord California, while ministering in the prison community in Northern California. Due to the repressed, emotional trauma of severe combat experiences in Viet Nam, the recession of the mid 90's, and being a nice guy, I was incapable of adjusting to the complexities and instabilities of consumer oriented society. I suffered a divorce in 1997. Dissed by family and friends I lived aboard "Mama Mia", my 28' Pearson Triton, and "Emily" , my 35' wooden sloop built in Gossport England in 1946, for the next seven years in San Francisco Bay Area Marinas. There I wrote, rehearsed, prayed and degenerated painfully slowly. I found healing through a combat veteran's recovery group processing deeply buried feelings caused by repressing unspeakable atrocities. I remain open and willing to reconcile with family and friends wherever, and whenever possible. Today, I work at what I love and do best developing my household, music, mosaics and oil painting. I study more and live peacefully with my wife, Denise, a fused glass artist living in our twenty acre mountain farm in Upstate New York. Our friends and tenants are kind, generous, gracious and love one another deeply. They are a gift, and a beacon of peace and the first fruits of a good life. I support any person willing to stand up and speak in an uninhibited sincere voice. I work at being positive, and facilitate workshops in communication education and oil painting promoting creative interdependent interaction among people of all races, creeds, and cultures. Performance art in down-tempo, urban, blues/rock guitar improvisation, and other disciplines are my vehicles for self expression, social interaction, and community enrichment. At the Hotel Utah in San Francisco between 1997 and 2004 I gave over seven hundred consecutive solo performances and scores of ensembles with young upstarts and old timers. Watched new trends, friendships and leaders develop playing a part somewhere in the mix. Lee Mallory, a close friend and noted influence of the late sixties sound, once said, "I guess I'm just a love child". I think that is the best way to describe my associates then and now. My life with all it's trials, struggles and hardships has been a wonder and a blessing. I am happy to be here. I expect I will be even happier to return when my Blessed Lord calls. My web estate, "The Naked Underground", is located at http://jeseppi.blogspot.com/.

JANUARY 14, 2009 5:07PM

Climbed Down from My High Chair at Fifty Eight

Rate: 2 Flag
In My High Chair

I passed through a series of hard and pressing events from concentrated to fresh squeezed. I like a lot of pulp in my happy orange juice life! Under my bib, clenching my soft rubber coated spoon I sat noisily in my disorders. The gnawing combination of discomfort, unappetizing foods, and the gooey mess all over my face that everybody saw but me became my protected habitat. I would smile, laugh, cry, pound my cup – utterly controlled by common instincts all the while thinking myself so original. I am fifty nine and have been out of my high chair probably a full year now.

What was it about the high chair that was so appealing? Why did I remain stuck there so long being fed naturally like the innocent animals? I felt secure behind the flat round surface where I would make my mess. I would jettison whatever whenever to the potty like floor to the pleasant sound of “plop!”. In my high chair I was king. I ruled decreeing my wishes that were instantly obeyed. When I opened my mouth things moved. When it was shut no one was able to open it up again until I was ready and convinced I’d get my way. Alas, such superior taste and refinement in food, philosophy, theology. Sexy women with sensuous figures and soft sweet Danish cheese cake faces always came to feed me. They served my ravenous appetite well. I ate and ate calling myself "consumer". I had rights, you know. The king has rights to consume unceasingly while starving every lesser being –they, primarily to serve, and I, primarily to eat. I, the better man, the one they call “your highness”. From my high chair I would attend to the pressing matters of my state to administer justice to the needy and condemn the fools dragged in with no gifts but full of charges. Everyone paid dearly for the crime of feeding me until one day there was no one left in my realm, my court, my household, my bed, my life ... only me.

I descended from my high chair last year to be for giving, so tired of always being for getting.

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Comments

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I see you have excellent taste in friends, my ex-liege. How ironic is it that so often when we come to realize how solitary and alone we are in the world we are finally prepared to join the family of man. May you have long years in store with which to enjoy you new company in the world.
I love the dry humor in this and I think some people may not entirely get what I think you're saying. Either that or I'm not getting what I think you're saying so let me cut to the chase. Very clever intelligent creative way of telling us that you finally became a grown up. No easy task given that most adults walking around are rarely grown ups. Being a grown up is way different than being an adult. You show us the distinction with a great analogy and story. Thank you!