I don’t think he knew the totality of the work we were doing by just existing in proximity to one another. I don’t know if he knew that by being close to one another that we were not only telepathically bouncing back and forth- but that the unspoken parts of our connection were creating an amplified resonance. I could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to believe it but he didn’t want to acknowledge it outright as truth.
Have you ever sat in the presence of someone you would never want to upset? Not because you have seen them at their worst but because something about them provokes you to be at your best because the best is what you want to cultivate in them. You want to be a mirror in the best way.
That was this.
Upon parting salutations he said “Thank you” and I said “No, thank YOU.” and he says “I didn’t do anything. You helped me.”
My reply was one so core felt that it was something I would avoid saying except I felt it so deeply that it had to be recognized.
“I say ‘thank you’ because you truly bring out the better parts of my personality, and I miss those parts of myself. “
I expand beyond all my fears of rejection and just say what is true, what is real in these moments. He appears to comprehend while being caught off guard.
I’m sick of hiding my love for people, things and the world in general. Sick of tucking it into notebooks hidden beneath dust.
I’m sick of people looking for a fight and bringing out the part of me that is willing to fight back over nothing- nonsense.
To feel in the comfort of oneself while in the company of another warrior who has no reason to war with their company.
I am a warrior, I am also a willing servant. I am hardened and yet still somewhat soft. I’m beyond first impressions and superficial adaptions in order to please those with no clue or reason.
One must thank those who bring comforting company. One must appreciate that they found a momentary respite.
When I said “Thank you,” it was from the bottom of my heart, from the stretch in my sinew, and from the fibers of my nerves. It was gentle yet heavy- The words were simple and what I could manage but the feeling was vast and if led by my fluency would have taken too much time to express.
I think we need to have a talk about Love.
I think we are mature enough to look at it from various perspectives and start to really feel and observe what this concept is beyond the word, itself.
Love, isn’t one thing or one feeling. It isn’t one singular expression that is universal in output. In fact it is as ever changing and unique as each human is- and each human changes and develops over time.
But Love is also consistent and steady and holds itself with such secure solidification that one may ask how both could be the same and cohesive at the same time.
Love is more than a word that is used too much and not enough.
Love is a feeling that is intangible but has, at times tangible reward.
Love in it’s most true form can not be corrupt- for its expanse leaves no room for corruption. It is only those on the surface who use the term with superficial meaning that bastardize the depth of the concept.
No worries though- there is always some hope that True Love can be found or will find you.
The first Love we know is from our parents or primary care givers in our early development. They set us up with expectations that love may equate ultimate forgiveness and freedom, or that love equates some sort of punishment; then again it may present as non existent as a word- that there is some void of connection to the word that is often connected to a feeling.
Then there are the loves we find beyond those beacons that bring us into the world- those gods that brought us life. Those on the outskirts that are different but familiar- grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. We love them too. But each is expressing it in a certain and unique way that may or may not be healthy.
And we learn- we are mushy little beings in the beginning- we are absorbing like a sponge. And Love is a word with a unique feeling that shifts and changes with these beginning relationships.
We get older- hormones come to play. We see our peers now in a new way as physical and mental development weave with the comprehension of our soul. Attraction becomes something that steals our attention. The biology we cannot control brings new focus. If religion is involved things get even more complicated because something in it fights the reptilian brain.
I could ask anyone and everyone would define “Love” differently- that should give you pause because the word is thrown around like confetti- it is strewn about as decoration. I don’t like that. I take the word very personally knowing everyone defines it in their own way.
It’s an awkward way to live.
I’ve never been about the superficial meaning. I’ve never been about throwing the word around like it is candy or a treat to waste away the senses. I use it, when I mean it, the way I comprehend it. It is not a designer label, it is not a place holder.
It is a brief moment when I am saying “all is forgiven”- I feel for the best of you in the depth of my core and therefore you have my care.
You won’t find that in the dictionary. Most people won’t define “Love” in anyway close to that.
There is “conditional love” and “unconditional love.”
I don’t want anything to do with conditional love. I want to specialize in “Unconditional Love.”
I am familiar with rejection and I don’t want to feel it again, nor do I want anyone else to feel that feeling. The word “Love” is not the answer or solution because it is so unique.
In the Love Languages I am a service oriented do-er type. I show love by action.
When I feel love it is hard to deal with the energy that comes with it because I do not use the spell of the word to convey the feeling. I take the feeling and I do something that shows the care that I have for the one who is getting affection.
I would bleed myself dry for love. I would work to the bone for love. I would sacrifice my time for love- but I will only use the word every so often to make a point- and if the focus of my attention was paying attention they could see that.
We don’t live in the ideal world…yet. It hasn’t worked out so well for me in the way I perceive. It is easy to feel like it is all daunting- but it isn’t because everything is temporary. My Love is so big- the word “love” is just not good enough. It has been co-opted and bastardized by inappropriate boxes and labels.
The movies try and drag you into “romantic” and “unrequited love”, the psychologists try and tell you that even though your parents abused you, they also loved you, and that even though you may hate them, you still love them.
Abusers love to use the word love as a psychological manipulation tool.
People read scripture and bastardize that too and make the examples of unconditional love fit a prerogative.
I don’t like it- I don’t want to do it and when the word comes out of my mouth you better know I mean it wholeheartedly but in a very, very big way. Nothing about it is superficial.
I know we all deserve love in that way- that we deserve to know what it is and what it feels like, but people are too scattered in their mind mayhem and survival to break it down.
Tonight I break the construct of superficial love and help reintroduce the TRUE REAL EVERLASTING AND UNCONDITIONAL LOVE that is the core of our being- our heartbeat, our bread and water and breath.
No more will these chains of superficial nature keep us bound in ideas of condition love. No more will the phraseology be used as a psycho/emotional tool. NO MORE.
Everyday I work for all of us, because I believe and LOVE all of us. It isn’t work like a normal job- it actually looks like nothing to me if I were to look in on it- it isn’t a perceivable work. That doesn’t make it un-important- sometimes it confuses me too. I am human and fallible- but that it allows me to not care what you think you do or do not see. It is happening beyond your view.
I DO Love you all. I DO want the best for you. I WILL Work for the best case scenario for us all. I DO NOT need the word “Love” to prove my work. That word never did prove the work.
If you feel profound Love for someone- do the work- see what they need and help them meet their needs. Show up. Be there. Say the word if it gives them comfort, but refrain if you don’t feel the feeling in your core. Know that not everyone enjoys the word, read the room and figure if it’s been over used and has lost it’s meaning like saying the word “Fork” one hundred times.
We are all at different places on the playground. Honor that most- it takes no words.
I knew at a very young age that marriage and children were not in my cards. I didn’t spend time dreaming up the dress unless it was to try and meld with my peers. I came up with the weirdest name for the imaginary daughter I would never have. It was really mythical in my opinion; Azora Wynter. I guess “azora” means sky blue. The name is beautiful and somewhat depressing unless you are a skier who appreciates a good fresh powder blue bird day.
I came up with that name when I was in junior high school, in the beginning of my depression as I tried to blend in with peers while still holding on to the self that existed beneath the required social structures. And if time doesn’t exist- it was perhaps in that moment, coming up with that name that I deeply knew some day, I would make a decision so that spirit of something would not have time on this earthly realm.
We actually know a lot about ourselves at a young age and the world will either capitalize on it or try and wipe you clean of what you remember.
When my parents would say “Just wait until you have your own kids.” I would vehemently tell them I wouldn’t be having any. So far I have stuck to it.
When I was little, before anyone said anything about it- I believed in Mind Over Matter. Weird that it comes as an acronym for MOM- because losing my mom at a young age is where many of these belief systems originated.
A mom is an amalgamated foundation for survival and life experience- when there is no mom a child grows up quickly out of need and survival. It’s also very traumatizing but not something that can be openly discussed because the adults have a hard time quantifying painful situations- or at least historically it appears that way.
I thought and observed a lot of interesting things when I was young yet there was no real outlet for rumination of that sort. Parents want you to be good and listen and follow directions. Peers are trying to out do themselves with being “cool.” I was in a constant spiritual battle and very aware of it on the physical realm. Religion only made the struggle even more brutal.
I’ve fought myself to be where I am right now and if you were on the outside looking in you might find it a sad plight. Over times I have been nearly dredged of whatever external drive I may have been given in this dream world. I don’t want fame, I don’t want fortune. I want to be in peace with the land and myself and anyone of that ilk is invited to join me in camaraderie and contemplation.
This isn’t my world. I know it is a strange thing to say because here I am living up in it- yet I am in the world, and not of it. More and more I disassociate from it- not because I am frightened, but because it is so dissonant except for where it resonates. These spots of resonance are so physically far removed from one another, that I am certain if they were in proximity something just may change with such a rush it would catch many off guard.
Meanwhile, here we are broadcasting these resonator waves trying to create bubbles of heaven to inhabit.
This all sounds so crazy, but we need to be transparent about what is actually happening here. I don’t spend all day and night focused in this way for nothing. As time speeds up and this focus has apparent results for those beyond myself, this work just feels like it has to be done and I have been set up to participate in a greater effort for the whole.
This feeling that we came from somewhere else is pervasive in my common community.
For a long time I have felt that we will not recognize Jesus or the Christ because he is here in the faces of those fighting this spiritual battle that they were born for- incarnated to face. The Christ spirit has been here for a long time- it is already embedded in those who are willingly here but have always wanted to go Home.
It is time to realize your roles in this play. It is time to be transparent about what you are here to do and do it. It is okay to be in the middle, but realize there are two sides to the fence and walking the fine line takes practice and strategy. You could fall at any time to either side. Also remember that there is more than one way to get where you are going and you are a unique creation with permission to make your own way which make be more akin to a dance or carving your own path.
In this journey- some things stick and others fall away. Pick your little battles wisely because the war isn’t yet over.
Imagine if you will- a tech-dominated world where people are slowly trickling in. Their one domestic responsibility is to have responsibility for their own laundry. In divided groups at certain times, they trek down to the last slow-running river in order to beat the shit out of their clothes. This is their way of staying connected to nature and need. However, the scene is always distorted somehow by the leftover frequencies that pollute the air.
This piece is about a woman trying to remember the “other world” she uses to live in, and she feels a very strong desire to share these memories with anyone who will listen. In this world, it is rarely silent, but there are only certain times when it is permissible to speak. The tones of the reception are measuring the frequency of the output from the people, and if the speaker derails into topics not meant for discussion- the frequency reflects that.
This is a personal compilation of solo creations I have made in the last month. I would like to add more stories to this because I want to introduce you to Maggie- and her story is incredible. We wouldn’t know about the Laundry Lady if we didn’t recognize Maggie and her participation in bringing her to view.
Please enjoy- Post-Apocalyptic Laundry-
My wonderful collaborator, Alessandro, has veered off into some Indian Raga path- and the smooth transition he takes into that expanded soundscape is gently adding new dimensions to the overall tonal frequency that has been our adaptations.
I am still sloppily grasping at chords and hitting wrong notes with confidence.
And by accident- we create perfection.
This new piece Most Angry Bungalow is my new favorite anthem.
To me, it speaks to memories brought up in a current moment. The echo of the past interwoven with the present. Like two long lost lovers, who fell out of fortune- finding themselves together again in the four walls they use to call home. Talking in new tones as they recall a leftover yesterday that still chimes heartstrings.
This beautiful accident was simply two artists in two places who speak the same language and read the same music- but it is completely etheric- there is no proof, no conversation claiming any specific musical direction- our individual hands led by some unseen force that felt the need for this song to be reborn. Because it is and it isn’t ours alone- Ale and me- acting simply as conduits of this reminder.
Ale and I have been continuing to pass each other soundbites through the ether in hopes of finally healing some dark human wound that we all possess and would like to ascend from, so you can imagine that sometimes things get weird.
These albums are no exception. They are audio journies in long-form. They have the power to take you where you need to go- if you have the patience to listen and relax into it.
These compositions have been a pleasure to make and they really force me to be present with all synapses firing. I am not in a preconceived attempt- I simply do what I feel like doing in a moment; that may be a vocal reading, collecting sounds or beating the shit out of an instrument in a way it was not designed to be used.
This process has developed into quite a conduit of expression and creativity that keeps me on my toes when it comes to imagination. This is what I want to share with you.
I want you to take the grit with the beauty and awkward and the graceful interlude. To feel all of it for yourself with no preconceived notion of where it will lead you. All I ask is that you invite your imagination for the journey. And thank Alessandro Muresu for any grace that comes from these compositions- he has the gentle touch that balances everything you hear within these gifts.
All of his contact info is in the video description. Subscribe to his channel, he makes new music EVERY DAY!
Let me know how it plays out for you in the end!
Have you ever been at a point, where it all seems so obvious and you can’t believe people are still arguing over what is blatant?
That is me, here, now in this cybersphere. I thought that by leaving FB I would find respite- but one doesn’t simply go cold turkey with social media- they migrate and adapt.
For me, this was moving over to Twitter, where the conversation completely changed and I felt like I jumped into the deep end of the lake.
On FB, I had over 500 friends and over a 100 followers… I know, I know; nothing to brag about, but it equaled engagement.
On Twitter, I have roughly 90-96 followers and I am pretty sure at least a dozen of them are surveillance. When one of the surveillance accounts realizes I am useless- they move on. That’s cool- what ev’s.
That doesn’t stop the weirdness on my end though- Nope. I am still at the mercy of algorithms when I go check my feed.
My motto: “I’ll follow back until your posts get whack.”
Why? I am not your judge- I am not your jury. If you start posting stuff that makes me want to act in a negative or violent way- I will simply remove you the way I would a thorn or a splinter.
I will pay attention to the wound, give it care with things that will remove the intrusion.
This doesn’t mean I am running away or avoiding things- it means I am doing what I can to control my internal environment which will ultimately impact my external environment. I could let my wound fester, or I could care for it and bring it back to optimum function.
90% of what I see posted online, makes me want to kick someone in the shins- why? Probably because when we hurt we try and hurt others and the things I see posted bring me more than a modicum of pain.
If leaving FB taught me anything, it’s that I am sick of making myself responsible for the pain of others, or assuming that I was the source of pain, to begin with, because that is how hard we can be on ourselves. We will assume so hard that a post is about us, that it will tear us up inside and then overflow into the life we live that isn’t attached at all to a SIMPLE FUCKING POST!
It’s crazy- but it’s real and normal for day to day life. How many people are lugging around their own unspoken guilt and ruining the lives of others because a post was worded in a way that makes an individual have to face their own conscience?
I had to leave because I was on the brink of kicking shins because of the fakeness of all of it. I wanted to kick shins because it would really hurt, in real time- but it isn’t fatal, but it is brutal.
I sit here at times just hoping for a real and raw conversation about how fucked up we are individually and in groups- not because I want to further twist a wound but because I can’t wait to find people who are finally mature enough to address the issue while also avoiding kicking shins.
I’ve found people would rather kick shins until they are bruised or deal with broken toes that have to heal from all the kicking.
I want a conversation or ten to be good enough. Most people would rather mince words, or not talk at all, because they know their words will hurt as bad as a bruised shin.
When I say “I can’t do this anymore.” It is because I truly can not do it anymore. I am smart enough to know that there are others in the world who don’t want to operate on the program we have been fed- and those are my loves of forever. They are the ones who keep coming back, again and again, so that none of us are left alone in the struggle.
Those of us aware of the struggle, say “NO MORE!” We are done.