Category Archives: Art

Personal Inner Experience # 3: Why Is Love So Rough? or What is Love?

The topic of Love keeps falling into my lap.  I had to sit down and talk about my personal inner perceptions and insights.

Thank you to my friend Alessandro Muresu who continues to inspire my heart to explore what Love means.

The backdrop of music is Alessandro’s creation, I would love for you to check it out and a just sit with it to let your own inner voice navigate the terrain.  I promise it is worth it and priceless.

https://alemuresu.wordpress.com/2019/01/12/rare-and-united-lp2019-e-on-line/

 

Facile e difficile

 

 

alehandsIt isn’t every day that one gets the pleasure of reading a piece of writing that expresses the positive impact one has made on the life and work of another. This is the byproduct of a two-spirit collision in cyberspace. There are times when you meet someone and you know that your souls were destined to assist each other in full expression of life and experience- these are the by-products of collaborating with Alessandro. It is magical with no pretense. I feel absolutely open and willing to share with him because the conversation alone is so absolutely inspiring. That is the kind of world I want to live in- one where we inspire each other creatively from the vast expanse of our souls. There truly is no better way to live.

-my lost tapes

Colgo l’occasione dell’uscita dell’articolo di Mandie per fermare qui alcune mie visioni riguardo la gioia e le difficoltà che si incontrano quando si crea con altri esseri. La nostra intrepida collaborazione che abbiamo acceso in Ottobre ci ha portati a dare vita in pochi mesi a tre densi volumi di musica degli esperimenti e della coscienza. Una impresa che è assolutamente in linea con quello che chiedo ogni giorno a me stesso per il mio percorso individuale, fatto di evocazione continua della fiammella sacra del suono e delle sue domande e risposte per me, quello che mi ispiro a vivere nei miei momenti, da solo o con altri. Ringrazio dal mio spirito la cara Mandie per essere riuscita ad interpretarsi e ad ampliarsi in modo potente nella sua visione e per aver compreso le mie, suscitando quella spirale virtuosa fin dall’inizio, per di più all’interno di una sfumatura stilistica e…

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Interwoven

Renaissance (n.)

“great period of revival of classical-based art and learning in Europe that began in the fourteenth century,” 1840, from French renaissance des lettres, from Old French renaissance, literally “rebirth,” usually in a spiritual sense, from renastre “grow anew” (of plants), “be reborn” (Modern French renaître), from Vulgar Latin *renascere, from Latin renasci “be born again, rise again, reappear, be renewed,” from re- “again” (see re-) + nasci “be born” (Old Latin gnasci, from PIE root *gene- “give birth, beget”).An earlier term for it was revival of learning (1785). In general usage, with a lower-case r-, “a revival” of anything that has long been in decay or disuse (especially of learning, literature, art), it is attested from 1872. Renaissance man is first recorded 1906.

 

I like the parts of this etymology that says “grow anew” or to be “born again” , “reappear.”I like it because it is true, time is not linear and more and more these days we are allowed to reconnect with deep soul kin… essentially elongating our interaction through these different wave lengths and time lines.

I am living this now and I want to share some of it with you.  Obviously my series about My Best Friend(‘s Journey)  is some of the amazing proof of this reality.

My creativity is expressed in many ways: these blogs, the journals, the scraps, the paintings, the music and the spoken word I can’t contain.  So much content with context.

I wanted to create a post with all the links to the music up to now because my creative collaborator Alessandro Muresu is some sort of vibration soul mate born on another continent.   He is precious to me because he brings out the best in what I struggle with in experiment AND his passion bleeds through his work, for whatever reason he also found me a compatible collaborator and what happens through sound files is soothing for us both.  Feeling old and familiar, but new and extraordinary.

I shall not build it up too much more.

Preface-  All of these sound qualities have a drone, which is the specialty of Ale.  I am the chaos that interferes but can also create soothing.  Ale brings all of the balance in composition.  My success’ are accidental.  I am sloppy but focused. I have no idea what I am doing, but I love manipulating sound.  My voice is a tool to those ends.  These are posted from earliest to most recent.  I invite you to listen to the evolution of it over all and to visit the rest of Alessandro’s Archive of Wonder.

If you don’t want to listen to all of them, pick one for now out of what you are drawn to.  It’s probably the right one for you in the moment.

Listen to Yourself

FTC Part 1

 

FTC Part 2

Squeaky Floor

Save

Ode (To Us)

173 Part 1

173 Part 2

173 Part 3

173 part 4

177

Karibu

Recording 21

Rudiments

Recording 15

 

*Credits to my late Grandfather Edward Lee Chapman for the heading photo in this post.  He really had an eye for light and shadow.

 

 

 

 

 

Time is Up

Tonight will I cough out a diamond that has been sitting in a compression chamber affixed at the back of my throat.

Tonight I will release the tension behind my eyes and near my shoulder that has grown sore as I cultivated such treasure inside of my own space.

This expulsion will not be gentle.  It will not be graceful. It will be messy, it will be hard.

It will be worth it.

 

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The Coronation.

For what felt like life times, she wept. Almost swept away by her own tears.

The crowd finally dispersed, confused.

The coronation was like none they had seen before.

Her tears were not in vain.

They were unsure of their newfound power; intimidated of themselves for the first time.

It was an awkward spectacle at first, until each one found their rhythm.

Tonight her tears were not the sobbing sort of times past.

When They realized She saw Them, they were again pulled into the rhythm and beat of their inherent hearts harmonic nature.

Suddenly all the colors became more vivid- an unexpected additive to such unfolding.

For the first time she felt willing to dance, and in that moment for the first time asked.

Each knowing the strength of their own thread in this divine tapestry.

It was a lovely pattern they chose to weave.

 

 

Crush

crush (v.)

mid-14c., “smash, shatter, break into fragments or small particles; force down and bruise by heavy weight,” also figuratively, “overpower, subdue,” from Old French cruissir (Modern French écraser), variant of croissir “to gnash (teeth), crash, smash, break,” which is perhaps from Frankish *krostjan “to gnash” (cognates: Gothic kriustan, Old Swedish krysta “to gnash”).

Figurative sense of “to humiliate, demoralize” is by c. 1600. Related: Crushedcrushing; crusher. Italian crosciare, Catalan cruxir, Spanish crujirare “to crack” are Germanic loan-words.

crush (n.)

1590s, “act of crushing, a violent collision or rushing together,” from crush (v.). Meaning “thick crowd” is from 1806. Sense of “person one is infatuated with” is first recorded 1884, U.S. slang; to have a crush on (someone) is by 1903.

 

According to etymology the use and context of the word “crush” is relatively new in relation to relationships.  When looking at the greater concept of the word, we see why “a crush” is called “a crush” at time in life when hormones are racing and our experience of ourselves and the world is limited.

We crush ourselves through our mental/ emotional states as we ponder and yearn, only to meet rejection perceived as devastation.

At thirty-eight and still single, I still get infatuation, however my ability to navigate the world and my own emotional reality allow me to avoid crushes.  I am too old for “crushes.” I know better.

This doesn’t stop me from occasionally roaming down Memory Lane as I rekindle those first rudimentary feelings of euphoria.  I think the older I get, the less euphoria I experience.  The thing about a “crush” when you are juvenile, is the newness of feeling in a multidimensional way that is beyond the norm. It messes with the psyche and the heart and the pattern of life before the feeling.  Life simply feels more full of tangible sensation when one is fixated on a beloved.

I guess these days, I get that through my animals, minus the sexual attraction.

In the past, a crush was always someone who caught my eye physically with traits I couldn’t identify.  That would be a starting point for finding the best parts of that person.  Unless they went out of their way to do me wrong, I would realize they “just weren’t that into me” and I would continue to love them from afar without expectation.  That is the best possible ending for a crush in my opinion… I could never imagine it working out; I am sure eventually I would be seen as intolerable.

As I get older, I wonder “Do single men my age even find me attractive superficially?  Will I always be one of those people you have to get a deeper feeling for, to appreciate?  Am I still as intimidating to people as I was proclaimed to be 10-20 years ago?”

I don’t know.  I don’t ask.  I am afraid of the honest answers in that realm, but I am dying to ask; at times I reserve myself out of the comfort of others.  It’s easier to be alone and not think about those things.  It’s easier to walk around naked in front of animals as I change from shower towel to everyday clothes.   I have no reason to think about my sexuality or what my relation to men has to with being naked or living life.  I’ve consciously and incrementally shut off a “valve” of sorts.

Today I caught the eye of one of the butchers at the grocery store.  He is a really nice looking fella.  When our eyes met, I just right-quick fixed my eyes forward as I continued my excursion except I slipped and I looked back, and he looked back at me.  I kind of close mouth smiled.  It was innocuous. It made me feel curious but not curious enough to make a fool of myself or visit the counter to pretend to be interested in items that I didn’t intend to buy in order to do something as cliche as look for a wedding ring on a butcher ( who probably wouldn’t be wearing a ring anyway, if he is at all up on safety protocol.)

At this age it’s easier just to abide by the fact that most people are taken, and I had to learn that the hard way… not the hardest way, but a hard way; Do nothing wrong but flirt with the wrong guy- get labeled a home wrecker.

Back in the day they would say if you were looking for a date- put two nice steaks and a bottle of wine in your grocery cart and wander around until you find someone you want to talk to.  I wonder if that worked for anyone.  Kinda sounds creepy to me.

I’ve attempted to follow up on body language with people who seem to be attracted to me… but it’s been a disaster and just like my attempts at flirting and the exploration of internet dating soooo very long ago, the results are not encouraging- I’ve given up, on following up.

This is a great topic for me to write about ad nauseam  because it’s one of those things I just stuff down into the crawl space of life experiences and I use my age to avoid examining it or going back to the worst parts of being crushed.   I am sure I am not the only one.

The Sacred Flame and The Hearth

Once upon a time our hearts were actually inside of ourselves.  Now you may say, “Our hearts ARE inside of ourselves.”  And you would be only partially correct.

We do have our internal, biological hearts and we must- in order to live this physical, biological life.  However, our heart, isn’t just some blood pumping organ and it wouldn’t be immortalized so poetically if that was it’s only purpose.

The heart is the cross roads of the body and the spirit that lives within the body, pumping life force miles a day through the blood.

“The Sacred Heart”

“Bless Your Heart”

“Home is Where the Heart is.”

“Heartfelt”

“Hearth”

There is an undeniable feeling when something “hits you in the heart”  or perhaps you feel “heart sick”.

Over time these emotional connotations calcify into biological dis-ease/discomfort/ illness.  The ability to transform becomes the chaotic output we experience as dissonance.  Healing is eliminated to the unseen end of a broad spectrum.  Life becomes cold, the hearth is empty or piled with coal.

You can say you “love” all day.  But where is your spark?  Do you even acknowledge your Hearth? Do you know your Sacred Flame?

The Hearth is the the middle ground cross road.  The Sacred Heart/ Flame is the inner eye, yet another cross roads of perceptions- leading further north the the crown which acts as a beacon to the Ever After and All That Is.

“To be woke” doesn’t mean to be falling head over heals in MDMA love over everything.  Nor does it mean to be knee deep in historical controversy without any attachment to Source/Spirit.

You become a different sort of conduit of perception when you are woke, because your heart helps process the mind with assistance through Spirit.  The entire biological and spiritual mental systems attach to the greater All as it aggregates information that seeks to know Truth.

That is it.

Truth has proven that it has been divided.  Truth has shown how that division has expressed itself on the micro and Macro.  We represent all of it from top to bottom, free will is each of us choosing a direction; simply put acknowledge the hearts and cross roads and act on the high road, or not.  Maybe there will be another time for you to re-evaluate in the future?

What is the cross road?  Left. Right.  Forward.

What determines outcome?  Intention.  Perspective. Adaptability.

There is no “One” cross road.  We encounter them daily to some degree.

Choose wisely.  Listen to your Hearts.

 

 

 

Tartaria

The walls were fortress’.  The arches were acoustic accouterments that swirled cells, existing as portals from one world to another.  Each room an infinite expanse of healing in balance of light and shadow.

The colorful windows served to display the various vibrations that emanate from colored light.  The steeples reached toward Heaven, and the exchange of energy between those points, transformed the ever existent Source illumination.

Source Illumination isn’t just a “light”. Or an “idea” – It is the electricity that powered our world and animated our Spirit.

They knew the priceless nature of Infinite Energy.

Where once we built physical structure to connect, the wiping of our history requires we reflect and remember, only to realize that we are being refined as those points of light. Those Cosmic Connections.  Star Children. Descendants of Tartaria.

The choice now- is to augment inorganically, or to organically augment.  They are not the same.  We’ve had the tools all along.  Thankfully there are those that still remember.

#Tartaria #StarCities #OrganicTechnology #Spirit

Experimental Story part 1

She walked inside the liquor store and headed to the whiskey section, knowing it was going to be a rough night of transmutations.  The bodies had been building up around the liquor store proximity,  and no one was willing to help with their transition.

“They don’t call them Spirits, for nothing.” She mumbled to herself as she grabbed a bottle of Jameson off the shelf and headed to the register.

What the Living were unable to see, was the portal the liquor store was built upon.  No, it wasn’t an ancient burial site or a lay line per say- It was an artificial portal with a contract for operation, and that contract was nearing it’s end, which made it amplify it’s effect for a long range- like that final electrical release that happens from a faulty conduit.  The last blast was bound to shock the neighborhoods within a three mile range on every side.

Years previously, when the liquor store was mearly a small local bar, there were human volunteers that acted as a release valve for possible misfortune and violence, but most of them had ended up dying of consumption or what might be seen as insanity. Many generations passed and no one seemed willing or knowledgeable enough to pick up the Transmutation Torch.

She had no idea how she fell into this gig and surmised it was vicinity and convenience. She didn’t realize how on point she was with this assumption. She had the innate skills and was willing but ignorant.  No one approached her about it, everything just sort of fell into place and before she knew it- she had become a local representative of transmissions between life and death and communication with these Spirits.  She was more than a release valve, she was a kind of  compassionate but reckless reaper.

As she walked home with the bottle tucked beneath her jacket, she was given the transmission that this is a job few qualify for; that it was her philosophy that “Everything is temporary” that convinced the Soul Council to recommend  and essentially assign her to this hard to articulate task.  She had also previously set a strong energetic protection boundary around her, and this was rare, but an essential upgrade from previous Transmutators.   They knew that she had the muster to take on the amplification through the transmutation process, She came from a resilient line.  Of course it was all quite a bit of a risk, because she was also seen as impulsive.   To Soul Council Majority, She was a risk worth taking.

As She walked through the door She contemplated what this would mean in the long run.  She knew there was a reason they called it Spirits and Poison; the reason the medical community called it a depressant or addictive.  She knew.  That was another reason she was the perfect candidate.  They admired her awareness of herself and of things seen beyond the normal spectrum.  This Spirit situation needed to be regulated before it exploded.

Have you ever read a Portal Contract before?  They are lengthy, full of stipulations and very fine print.  They are tiresome to read and edit, and even more tiresome to try and comprehend.  It takes a Portal Contract Specialist to mind these matters, and those are also a dying breed.

The Spirit game has really changed over the last decade or so. Used more as a source of entertainment than their actual function of Soul Transport and Evolution.  Doesn’t that seem to be the case with so many things these days?

There were just so many reasons She was the perfect replacement for a job no one wanted.

No one asked if She was willing or able. She didn’t really have a say in the matter.  Like any job she was allowed “vacations” or breaks- but honestly it was going to be like Black Friday for her for several years.  The longest anyone had lasted was a year, but the pool of willing Transmutation Correspondents was a lot bigger then.  At one point people were literally lining up for the job- most were dispelled quickly as they were easily distracted from the job at hand, using it as a free bar tab.  Turn over could be high, but if one stuck, they could be there for five years tops.   A stipulation of the contract was duration for Transmutation.

It’s a well known fact that Spirit Transmutation is one of the hardest jobs a living human can have.  There is a constant bombardment of frequencies, and random variation from external output which can define the outcome and put extra pressure on the physical human meat suit.

One might ask why a Higher Spirit isn’t given the job; it’s because the job is a boot camp for initiation to Higher Spirit and the job requires previously mentioned meat suit.  She certainly didn’t know this when the transmissions started flowing in a few months before the confirmation transmission was sent.

Imagine a rather ordinary thirty something woman with what could be seen as a problem with consumption.  Imagine that same woman is met with a job that would require that she continue her consumption.  Now some may call that a demon, and that is what the Spirits do… but imagine that is only half of the story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“The blood that runs through these veins have seen unrecorded history.  It’s felt the damage of life times ravaged through experience.  It’s run across the land like a river taking parts of the landscape with it. It’s left parts and parcels of it’s mineral content in the wake of its flow.  It’s been absorbed back into the Earth like it should, only to assist in nourishment for the local surroundings creating a vibration that resonates for miles. She gives and she takes in perfect balance.”

There was no rational or discernible reason for these words to flow into her mind in this moment, but they did. She found herself inspired and confused.  What did it mean? She tried to slough it off as a last remaining mental by product of her moon cycle, finding its slow transition outward and down to be flushed back into the eternal life recycle we call Local Water Purification.

“If only they knew.” She outwardly commented to no one as she discarded the blood stained tissue into the toilet and watched as it swirled away.

The Soul Council had noticed these mental behaviors in her.  A sort of appreciation for the mundane yet macabre.  She was able to see beyond the 3D layers, and interpret the meaning of the symbols embedded into everyday life. The Soul Council had found, over time, that this capacity was necessary to the job, but a skill few had.  To make matters worse those who did have it, essentially lived in denial and found themselves reluctant when encouraged to entertain the notion, much less the actual experimentation of an essential element that made up their being.

Portions of the Soul Council thought that the program should be all together ignored; they argued that there was a reason no one was qualified nor wanted the job. Nothing in the contract said that position had to be filled. Their suggestion was to let the Portal Contract run it’s course, as chaotic as it may be, and sort out the rest later.  In the mean time find a top notch Portal Contract Negotiator that would be able to align contracts for any mess that may be made in the mean time.

The majority of the Soul Council argued that it would be unethical to abandon the station if they were aware of a candidate that could fulfill more than the basic requirements, and that the contract was Soul related, so  the initiated had no choice but to at least man the position until the term ended or they failed… whatever came first.  And that was the sad nature of it.  The candidates historically and consistently failed before their term was met.

Those few in the Soul Council who would rather abandon the project, coincidentally, were the newest and youngest members on the board.   The Elders in favor of this new solution felt that their experience with this situation was keeping in the alignment of the soon to be void Contract.

And all the while these distinctive and life changing Soul Council Conversations occur on the outskirts of awareness… this strange 30 something year old woman keeps plugging along daily- completely unaware that she is about to be employed by Spirit full time with no discernible vacation, no discernible benefits, no advertised severance package and no unemployment safety net if everything goes to hell in a hand-basket.  It wasn’t even a “paid” position, per say… it was more akin to an unpaid internship.  It may seem crude, but Soul Councils aren’t even known for “thank you” cards when a human helps them reach a solution.

In modern terms, you may say that “This bitch that lives down the street from the liquor store, is about to get shook by Spirits she never even knew existed so close to her proximity.  She’s got a job she didn’t know she applied for, and things are going to get weird.”

 

 

Everything Leading to the Apex

The vibration of the soul, and the blood combined brings forth our flesh, in this spiritual contract we manifest in form, the features of history within us.

It’s true that they are attempting to kill off certain bloodlines.  To suppress certain peoples.  Those peoples feel the Truth in their own life blood.  It’s required that they meet a certain range in vibration in order to be activated.

There are many yet to activated and they are being drawn in various directions in order to harvest the life force they have left while being blind to their own brilliance.

In actuality the frequency and vibration is killing off those who seek to kill off the “Natural Light.”

This is where we meet the trans-human agenda.  The desire for clones and all around trans-formative manipulation geared toward infinite longevity.

Those of Natural Light in Creation know the Truth.  It was contract as such.  We don’t need modern technology to utilize it, once we remember it exists.

The best thing technology gave us, was the ability to reconnect instantly.  The result is an archive of shared remembrance.  If this medium goes away, know that your heart has an internal voice that needs no words to speak.  You have internal eyes that see beyond your dreams.  You have a gut that brings awareness to things that are amiss.

We are already full operating systems that have to remember how to get back to the home feed- alone. That is Heaven, or Infinity.   The journey is singular at your own pace until it isn’t.

If you have been feeling something is amiss; it has been.  If you feel a strange shift; it’s shifting.  If you feel a calling for Higher Truth; follow it.

end of transmission