Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with Monkeys

Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with MonkeysFrida Kahlo Self Portrait 1940Frida Kahlo My Dress Hangs There
Brutha hesitated. Someone had definitely spoken to him from out of the air. Perhaps it was a demon. Novice master Brother Nhumrod was hot on the subject of demons. Impure thoughts and demons. One led to the other. Brutha was uncomfortably aware that he was probably overdue a demon.
The thing to do was to be resolute and repeat the Nine Fundamental Aphorisms.
Once more the Great God Om spake unto Brutha, the Chosen One:
"Are you deaf, boy?"
The hoe

Many stories start long before they begin, and Brutha's story had its origins thousands of years before his birth.
There are billions of gods in the world. They swarm as thick as herring roe. Most of them thudded on to the baking soil. Brutha spun around. There were the bees, the eagle and, at the far end of the garden, old Brother Lu-Tze dreamily forking over the dung heap. The prayer mills whirled reassuringly along the walls.He made the sign with which the Prophet Ishkible had cast out spirits."Get thee behind me, demon," he muttered."I am behind you."Brutha turned again, slowly. The garden was still empty.He fled.