Straight to your head: The Blog of Piero Amadeo Infante

No power greater than words from the heart

Real news from Real Locals. Check it out!


Meanwhile, back home, if you want real news coverage, a truly local perspective, from a long time resident who has a cutting edge take on Oakland and Berkeley, Check out for articles on the arts, music, commerce, changes in the East Bay, and and the future of Northern California’s boomingest region.

This is true Bay Area media, culture, and voice. Check it out~!

Home reconstructed

There is something about the routine of normality, and domestic living that heal long standing wounds to my heart and soul.
I never really had a home before, or even the desire for one. I think I starved a little in that respect, now knowing what my life needed.

But now, a solid year of cleaning, cooking, gardening, (Or rather clumsy attempts at gardening) and letting my highly qualified NextGen arts community handle the front lines, (hey I put in 40 years, sue me) have stilled me and I hear myself, and the subtleties of my own heart again.

It wasn’t really about the place or places, it was about the routine, and the day in day out life that used to scare me, because I have essentially been on the run and scared of stillness for nearly 50 years. Now that stillness can be my friend.
Meet Piero. The homemaker. With his helpful cooking tips. lol.


Power: For you.

I see you.

I saw you sitting in your car today looking a little beat up.
Smoking a cigarette, with your head occasionally in your hands, and sighing deeply. I could tell that some adversity had struck.
I know that look, and that sadness well.
I know you feel sad sometimes with life, what you perceive as a lack of personal power, you feel unseen, and like you and your feelings, do not count.
Not true.

This is an Illusion, the illusion of one who has brought their diamond to the rhinestone market. It can never been seen for it’s true worth, by people totally unaccustomed and unlearned in who, and what you are. And I see you.

I learned power alone, but learned to wield it through my interactions with others. you can too.

Never, ever, place your importance in the hands of people you don’t really know, or people who were born with their social power, or wear it like a garment, and who are this society’s idea of empowered people, because they are ruling class, or pretty, or have a sick society’s seal of approval. This is not power, this is Hubris. And time will lay waste to it as it always has.
Do not emulate this. And never allow them to determine your worth under any circumstances.

Cultivate your own power, alone, getting in touch with yourself and your dead, and when you do want to know your real worth is, you will know it among people who value you, and care about you, and who listen and learn from you and who are the simple folks who work, cook, clean, raise kids, drive, and are everyday people, because it is through sharing power, that they create power. And me. I will share my power with you.
Real power can only be shared. All else is merely force, and assumption.

You have power here, beyond what you know, and I see you.
I see you.

Piero Amadeo Infante

(Illustration by Nan Cruz, from the book “The Kingdom of Mescal”)

GET OFF MY LAWN: 20 things you notice in your 50’s


20 things you notice in your 50’s

AKA 20 things I noticed in my 50’s,
WARNING: Some entries may be considered gender and geography specific

1: Badly designed anything.Plates/cups, tools, & anything handheld especially
2: People with mental health problems masquerading as civil servants
3:There is sugar in EVERYTHING. Next: sugar in the water and air supply
4: As a smarter creature, dating is easier, connections are more difficult.
5: Things like “nature vs nurture”, & “science vs. deity” become meaningless
6:You master the art of letting people say ridiculous shit, and saying nothing
7: You can do whatever you want without explaining anything to anybody
8: Not scared to be the 1 in a crowd of 5000 saying “No. I don’t agree”
9: You get involved in a hobby/skill that makes your friends go, “whoah.”
10: Life becomes less a vehicle for you, & you become more a vehicle for life
11: Young men seeking conflict you used to fight, just need a big brother
12: Money doesn’t mean the same thing as when you were young
13:You begin to see death as layover in a long flightplan 2 god knows where
14: You become suspicious of people claiming virtue through their politics
15: You become part of a network of OG’s that really gets shit done
16: You actively look for places to help and assist people and causes
17:A lack of fear does not necessarily mean a presence of courage
18: You more begin to see women as God . Not in worship, but in communion.
19: It is totally OK to be utterly selfish sometimes.
20: You find it easier to be corrected without fighting the person correcting you.
(people pay millions for that info, and I am getting it FREE? ok!
So are you for that matter, shattup! lol! smile emoticon Get off my lawn!!!)

©Piero Amadeo Infante, 2015


POWER 101. For people who work with authority.

The art and social science of personal empowerment.
A spiritual martial practice.

I am powerful today.

Power, and being empowered, is a gravity. You can feel it’s weight when either witnessing or wearing it. It is like carrying an extra 100 pounds, and takes practice navigating socially, and spiritually.
It can also depress, frustrate, and isolate the one utilizing it, and there are a number of places where personal power will not affect the outcome of a situation at all. (Love is often very unresponsive to power)

It is often misunderstood as “License”, the ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want, but nothing could be farther from the truth. It is more like walking a tightrope while juggling a lit stick of dynamite, a running chain saw, and a feather. You will learn the word “ethereal” You become a conduit, through which power flows, and it has to flow outward, since being an endpoint for power is exceedingly dangerous for a human.

It is for this reason that I prize the elders, babies, and many of the women and men in my life, from whom I can draw strength, love, and counsel, because they could care less about my power, and it resets me, and refreshes me, and reminds me that I am not power, and power is not me, but merely a belief, a currency, and a practice, best sheathed like a sword until actually needed.
These people keep me earthbound, and sane, in a sometimes insane world.

And a funny thing becomes clear. The more power you have, the less you need to use to affect outcomes.

Some days I find myself in such an advantageous, powerful and blessed position, that the only sensible or even moral to do, is to find somewhere, or someone to help out. Sometimes that someone is even me. To shed my power, and be helper among helpers, and in the service of others.

This is one of the sure fire ways I know, to keep my head and heart above the quicksand that is my personality and it’s vastly selfish me-oriented nature, when it is in danger of binging on power.

It is a daily practice, and responsibility for all who would wield and demonstrate power.

©Piero Amadeo Infante, 2015

Context in the Pyramid connection discussion.

Please keep all comments respectful and science minded.

Bali-Acintya-God-Mayan-Stele-Prana-Hand-yoga Bali-Goa-Gajah-Temple-Pyramid-of-the-Magicians Bali-Maya-Chakana-Cross-Parallels Bali-Mayan-Serpent-Statues Balinese-Mayan-Gods-Howler-Monkey-God-Mayan Bali-Third-Eye-Mayan-Third-Eye Besakih-temple-El-Castillo-Mayans-Balinese Goa-Gajah-temple-Elephant-Cave-Mayans-Pyramid-of-Uxmal-Magicians Maya-Bali-Elephants-Old-World-New-World-Elephants Mayan-Balinese-Face-Above-Doorway-Monster Mayan-Balinese-Triptychs-1 Mayan-Balinese-Triptychs-2 Pura-Besakih-Mayans-Ossuary Ubud-Bali-Corbel-Arch-Mayan-Corbel-Arch

POPS HENNEN FOUND! now with his son. Thanks to all who helped!

pops hennen

Thanks to all your help, Pops Hennen has been FOUND  and has been reunited with his son.

Why do you make music and song?


“Why do you make music, and song?”

She asked me quietly, leaning over me, brushing my neck, her hair soft and curly, tickling my shoulder, using all her charm to disarm, and see into me, like a thief who knows their score.

“Why makest though this great noise unto the heavens?”
(We resort to theatrical English on occasion)
She wanted to know why I had endeavored in music and tale.
It made me ponder.

When we look and shout into the heavens we are calling out for the confirmation of our own being, and the noise we make here, and the echo we hear, is our calling back. it is an invitation to write history, and to bear witness to your perception. You are lonely no more, for you yourself are there, answering back.

What do you see when you are merely peering into space, or listening to what some call silence?
They say you see and hear what you look and listen for. We all look for the one thing.

I see change. upheaval, timeless forms regularly being destroyed, disintegrated, absorbed, and used in the creations of other new forms themselves soon destined for destruction. Including us.

I see a presumed global sentiency attempt to put an orderly ideological handle on time, it’s whimsical, almost taunting personality, and it’s ethereal nature beyond classification.

I see the noble human spirit. and think, is it really more noble that that of a wheat kernel? or a chimp? What would make is so, other than our desire for meaning?

Both life and death strike without warning, and I joyfully accept the chaos, like a child who has strapped down in a roller coaster ride they know will terrify them, and does it again and again, all to feel something outside their own control.

Life lives outside my control, and inside my perception.
Like many others, I feel the celestial loneliness that makes me cry out “I am here!” with music, song, words, and interactions all a play for remembrance, all designed to etch my name in history, all meant to show proof of my passing.

I know why the wolf howls, and why some of the humans I love make a great and terrible noise into the heavens.

“We are here. I am here. remember me”

©Piero Amadeo Infante, 2015

Nunquam Sola


Sometimes, like tonight, in the clouds he heard a voice. A drunken poet, with the scratchy rustle of a thousand cigars, and sandpaper, a voice of smoke, and molasses, deep and warm, in the throat of experience, over cups of heated whisky at the fires, reciting like a priest at an altar, for a god who had long since stopped listening.

It was a lyric best thrown with a fiddle, and dancer nearby, like tonight, with low brown tallow candles, where the shadows of her dress cast giants and dragons on the walls of a simple stone tavern.

He told the story of “Nunquam Sola”, the one who was never lonely.
Feet, fiddle and voice conspired like thieves, in a bittersweet dirge, to say it well.

“A loving wound, like the moon, but you can’t heal it
You know it to be there but you can’t see it
You sense it in the air, but you can’t feel it
And just when you convince yourself that you don’t need it
Fate palms your card just to re-deal it
Then teaching you patience she will re-steal it
Dress it in disguise and conceal it
Or strip it of guile and reveal it
Oh love,
Oh love,
Oh love, so far away for a sailor”

He awoke there here at dawn, with no armor on,
On his lips was a song he’d thought long gone,
Of how the sole sailor, so far from the shore,
Was caught in the current, but lonely no more.
His charts never lied, and with fate on his side,
He sailed into darkness, while his memory died,
And while others dropped sails for the promise of home,
He wasn’t afraid to go on alone.

The Capricious south wind,
Who was ever at play,
asked “will you love again?”
He smiled, “Maybe, one day”

The Capricious south wind,
Who was ever at play,
asked “will you love again?”
He smiled, “Maybe, one day”

©Piero Amadeo Infante, 2015


Blog at | The Baskerville Theme.

Up ↑


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,947 other followers