Julian was more insistent last night, telenovela style:

-Dame otra cerveza!
-No! Tienes que manejar.
-Quedo! Quiero quedar contigo!
-No, no lo quiero.
-Puedo tocarte?
-No...
-Acceptame!
-Tu deseo -- lo puedo sentir -- vibrando [pulsing hands] -- me hace nerviosa [hands as barrier].
-Comelo!

For once(!), I am choosing to be with the feelings I have surrounding my interactions with Valic, to learn from them, rather than introducing another set of undoubtedly complicated stuff with Julian, my new Spanish friend (stonemason contracted for repair of National Library entranceway).

TANTRASARA(H)

I put myself in child's-pose before you,
mother Nila-Sarasvati.
You give joy & health.
You're sitting on a corpse's chest, on his heart,
leaning aggressively forward.
You have three bright fearsome eyes.
You have a skull-bowl, a sword, big scissors.
Your body shines like blazing fire.
Give me refuge.
Give me ability to arrange words clearly.
Let all your gracious nectar drench my heart
and cut away my pride.
You wear a tigerskin skirtlet
and a garland of bloody heads.
You're frightening
and you remove fear.

(Śiva is the corpse,
я शिव!)

I am developing a habit of hand work (binding) in the morning and creative work (drawing, designing book) in the evening, after an early dinner and a cup of caffeinated tea. At first, when only the head is engaged, there are behavior patterns to constructively occupy the nervous hand and mouth energy, until the hands can be fully engaged as well. I ultimately reach a point in this arrangement where I can make lines without fear. This is the real cure for the funk.

Other temporary and lesser funk cures include
1) giving in to society and relaxing fully and non-critically into some sort of trash (serious side effects)
2) opening pathways to let emotions in, cresting bodily (a process, a developing habit, probably not a lesser cure)
3) expending energy through physical exercise (solidly good).

(Emerging structures and habits occupy spaces of other ones: judgment, competition, repression. In moments of full occupation, it becomes apparent that judgment is a worry about being putrefied by one's own uncomfortable spots or by other peoples' difficulties that we hope to have surpassed, and that creative process envelops dirtiness in a loving embrace.)