blank blank fullness

the one the world runs through
while doers do
you live it for them, too
feeling the work as more than
shiny vanity packaged as if it could be
art
the labels laugh, stand apart
they're the only ones who won't believe
hidden an arms length behind the screen
a reality you thought you touched while
imitating
reaching back into the past for gems 
when no one knew your name
babe, it's just the same, still the same
as when they do
is that even you
true?
how about you
what about you?
writhing treasurers
owning
quiet traveler
you cup the sadness of loss
before it sets itself upon your doorstep
alone, alone, alone
shed your loneliness and fly with
wings
feathers floating on the trail
of moments turning over into infinity
borrowed air in your borrowed lungs
you control what you can
ignore all the rest,
sort-of
make peace with your power
pretend you're the best
and they sing along while your breath
it's still strong
la la la la
witha what kind of goodness do you
claim to possess
shh shh shh
it's in your silence
it's in your death
if you can see the goodness
in the mess
and when your lover was near
you know it was worth it to see 'er clear
now far and forgotten
you're fine with half-way
falling off,
going astray
for the love of
what you claim ain't a game
and all of a sudden
losing is cool
faking the pieces
puzzle of the day
as she floats on
unchanged in her oceanic ways...........

If I ever got a tattoo, which would be a really big thing for me to do, it would be the infinity loop
what a meta thing to choose
my whole qualm with tattooing myself is that I know, in my heart of hearts, I could not, would not, pledge allegiance to an image, idea or symbol for my whole life
there's just nothing out there that's that significant or important to me (right now)
everything changes and I've given my allegiance up to that
or maybe I just have issues with commitment...
anyway, I'm happy honoring the skin I've been given, au naturel, with a few scars from adventures gone awry, tattoo-like in their own right
age leaves its mark enough in time....
BUT, but -- in terms of linear beauty, simplicity and significance, , I've got you under my skin...

Source of this: some fellow yogis I follow on the internets and every now and then at their studio (hey Micheal, Tara) are consistently reinforcing the principle of working from inside, out
And as much as I agree with that, (when I close my eyes and turn inwards the pieces fall together and I'm comfortable, blissfully unconcerned with time's passing) I know the opposite is just as true
At any given moment, you're on the course of that infinity loop, whether it's taking inspiration from without and reflecting it inwards to make something of it in your own terms,
Seeing the shifts in your body, skin, outer radiance from well-massaged organs, nervous systems, and brain firings
Or crossing paths with a person, place, idea or object that's set to send you in a new direction, through a new feedback loop.
The question-answer of working from inside-out is presented as a concept, that is, an external entity one takes in to breakdown and assimilate. You're outside taking this inside-out in. Get that?
There's no one-way track (even time must be flexible on some planes) and the elegance of this is expressed in the constant motion, unbreakable conversion from end to end in infinity. On a molecular level, it's in our DNA, ever escalating into itself in our selves...

And if you've got some time to get lost in esoteric Wiki hopping, it's fascinating!

I wrote this a while back on a sort-of off day and it really lifted me. Nothing quite like a pep talk with yourself when you've been too hard on yourself.
Remember it, the positivity and power you possess, on a day where maybe a friend or family member says some not-so-friendly things. Or someone you really like doesn't feel the same. Or you're just not going your own way... And remember, it's all part of the play.....

Affirmative
Work from abundance
When in doubt, act with confidence to tackle a task you have been putting off
Stop ruminating and start connecting the dots 
Let it happen
Share your beauty
Believe in others' beauty, positivity and grace
Connect to the world around you moving on the street
Move around blockages towards what flows and makes you happy
Know that in time, you can reach a dream if you keep working, keep following positive connections, keep your sights set high. Don't settle! See stepping stones for what they are and don't stay stagnant for more than it takes to catch an energizing breath. 
Keep your ambitions high but parse your goals in short-term doables
Visualize your ideal outcome and leave space for surprises. Invite them with your intention to help you with a bounty you could not have alone, then redistribute. Don't hold on to resources, share share share
Feel out when doing nothing is doing a lot!
Each stage, of the day, week, year and your life has value and importance. Address the relevance of your place along the timeline of your life and know the past is not a reliable comparative. Infact, nothing is. There is no comparing in your unfolding, there is only observing and reaping lessons. 
Relish the changing face of your 20s what's to come in your 30s 40s 50s and beyond. Enjoy your age for what it is, don't rush to grow. You are changeless and yet continually evolving. Laugh with paradox, wink at the mirror, keep in touch. 
When you're indecisive, plunge and commit. Own it. Stop thinking and feel your answer. 
The harder it gets the harder you must be making it on yourself
Double up your will and throw your positivity bows with a glint of power

Can you dig this

Two by One (live) by Didge Project

A few weeks ago I signed up for two Life-Prov classes taught by actor, improv-lover & coach, corporate trainer, comic, writer and -- Reverend, Kim Schultz. At the time, I had no idea I'd signed up for all that. After the first class, nay -- during, I realized I'd received a dollop of pure, intense goodness I couldn't wait to savor in the coffee-cup of my world.

Life-Prov flexes, and in so doing, develops the muscles of your inspired self -- the one that lives, moves, feels, acts, responds, supports and chooses all at the same moment, from the same place, with sweeping confidence and intuition. It's exhilarating! For two hours you are totally present, in your body, saying YES, not looking back, not looking bad, committing and coming into your own through creative, energizing, empowering, and interactive exercises, games and drills. Kim has taken founding principles of improv and woven them into her classes. The result? You've connected to and have developed your inspired self -- you "get out of your own way, trust your gut, speak your truth, listen deeper and play more." And when you get back to your life, you're not the same. Your center of gravity has shifted and, undoubtedly, your world, relationships, and views have shifted too. Open sesame.

During the sessions, as we responded to exercises and shared our experiences amongst the group, I immediately recognized the intrinsic similarities to fundamental yogic principles. There is a profound territory in the venn diagram of improv and yoga and I am diving into the center crosshatching!

Dive in with us! Last week I met up with Kim to interview her and discuss more. Riding the wave of an inspired evening, I also brought along Deborah Pannell, a beloved friend and project-partner who happened to be with me, and is the primum movens of Kim's and my connection. She jumps into the convo every now and again.

I recorded our interview for your listening pleasure. Enjoy part 1 in our ___-part journey into inner and outer space. Live at thetopofmy[your]mind. Instinctual, expansive, and universal: letting the moment reveal the highest answer and outcome.

Unfortunately, the first half of our conversation was lost due to technical mishaps. So here, we're quite literally diving right in. It might get deep. But, trust me, getting wet is the only way you'll grow! And you know thisssssss!

   Alexandra Moga Interviews Kim Schultz Part 1 by thetopofmymind

Join the conversation! How have you experienced an inspired life? How have yoga and/or improv changed your life? Leave comments and let the discussion continue.....

Kim Schultz Improv on Facebook


xxo

"God we're emo"

Threw her head back and laughed

"Joke's on you!"

"Oh, wait -- "

she didn't want to be the last one standing
again
so she shut the door
no man's land between self-revealing intuition and the voices that came with time
the voice quieted as she forgot to listen
searching instead for
more
test 1, 2; 1, 2
flickers now and then hesitated to give rise
as once the past had seen fires burn in her eyes
dropping endless scenes behind the lenses cast upon the moment, and the next stretched out in weeks
and she hates getting all made up for nothing but another group when where's the single's gaze I sought to please
another step to her bedtime routine
slipping in and out of pose with ease wondering when these bones will start to creak
endless body stretching beyond the aging limbs of a life which cannot does not could not end
youth your marvel bathes round me
bells tolling infrequently yet history has been made
and there's the art of living
what rhythm were we born into
where's the metronome
5 - 6 - 7 - 8
9 - 1 - 2 - 3
where's our perfect proofs
proofs of math and music
counting out our destinies
balance kept so steadily
why'd you go an use the past tense
insinuation picked up
war-time sensitivity
radars up in arms
we've got your meaning
we've got your mis-communications, too
when you missed something,
something brewing out of bounds
the blank was filled in
knew what was left unsaid
was right
the time isn't right and waiting  --
what a waste
youth's biggest lesson lost on patience
it doesn't take much
for us to realize
it's all meaningless (sublime nothingness)
without the good stories we tell
reality is all that's left to sell, a shell
serve your body, mind, and spirit with the
buy, create, consume, rest, resume, converse, avoiding doom
cycle spin, years on end
then -- love's back again
so sorry it ever left
how long can it last
for the lone rangers -- all of them,
floating winks of private moments, lifetimes in a breath
intersections drawing introspections
let the bodies cross and pass
crash into walls of a 'coulda been doing this all along'
love without an object
reason without a mind
mind is off addressing
everything in its right place
my holy impermanence slipping through the net of your gripping sliding fingertips
continue like this
rise and fall to the sun and earth
look what happens with a love like that*
it lights the whole sky*
hello sounds just like goodbye

Other People Incident 2.5: "Corey Haim's Ghost"

So here we are, almost a month after the fact but hey, 'betta late than neva' (say it in a sassy, sultry Marlyn Monroe or Jessica Rabbit voice).

On 4/20/11 I led a yoga class over at the Morrison Hotel Gallery to benefit Guitars in the Classroom. As I work with young 5th graders, I've been brought closer to the exact reason why education has always been a critical issue at the forefront of my mind. I feel quite lucky to have received a terrific education, and I know a lot of it was due to the fact that, along the way, I've had a few stellar teachers who exposed me to new perspectives and frames of viewing the world at the right times in my growth. Anomalies, stand out human beings.

The 3rd grade teacher who took it upon herself to teach her students French- via children's songs- in an early-90's Astoria. The albino-haired 10th grade English teacher who so clearly didn't belong in suburban New Jersey (but DID belong at the school) -- dressed in Gucci, former lawyer, TERRIBLY intelligent and refined in the subjects he asked us to think about critically. The art history teacher who made you want to work so hard for her love. Because she made you love the subject so much.

Those kinds of teachers are there before you can choose the world for yourself, they open the doors to new places, and those kinds of characters inspire me, and all those they touch, to search deeper; revealing a few decadent crumbs along a trail to exhilarating discovery.

And they do this how? They become art themselves. They've touched that place inside themselves that then radiates the works and spirits, drives, emotions and creations, and they pass it on; the gatekeepers to our curiosity and capacity to live full lives through meaningful work, whatever that means to you.   

To me it means passing on yoga and art to children when they're still fresh, but also beginning to feel the pressures of the world around them. The high expectations of tests. The struggling parents, the moves and losses of friendship, the latest Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, or Beyonce songs they will hum in class, while saying "I wanna be a fashion designer". Pop and locking, sliding in a funky grove with an "I'm going to be a lawyer". All while we figure out how to sound a Sanskrit word (s = sh), what values are and what they want theirs to be, locating spinning wheels of energy in their bodies that connect to love, or ego, or creativity, and how to hold their bodies to be more compassionate, less egotistical, more creative. How to enjoy the silence. They are 10 years old. And when they fight over mats I get to remind them about non-attachment. It's a trip! I digress, I also hope that these little seeds planted, make their lives a little bit richer. Like those farmer-teachers did for me...

I want to spread this kind of enrichment. Enable other teachers to take creativity into their own hands and then share it with their students directly, every day. Yes, kids, we have to learn about the rules of grammar, but what if we all got together for our lesson today and wrote a song about it? And then sung it together?! So I got together with Guitars in the Classroom. And took their teacher's workshop. And saw, experienced firsthand what this charity is doing. Am learning guitar so I can sing with my students! And I can only imagine the benefit to so many more children right here in New York City. Maybe ESL students in East Harlem who could really ease and enliven their learning of English with a song. Giving enrichment to schools that might be in trouble (seen Waiting for Superman?) , teachers getting some art in their own lives, learning how to play the guitar, maybe even holding a guitar for the first time. Democratizing the making of music so more of us can carry a tune in our hearts, a tune we helped create.

Taking the edge off city life.

Doesn't that sound amazing?

So we did some yoga at the beautiful, warm, good-vibe-filled Morrison Hotel Gallery Loft to raise some money. So that more schools, more students, more teachers in New York City can get this beautiful chance.

Looking forward to more....

'The Dignified European'

'The Hilton "Haay!"'

'The Ingenue and Pursed Lips'

'The Comic'

'The Indie'

'The Latin Tamale'

'The Big Shot "Hey!"'

'LOVING LIFE! aka Oprah'

'The Skeptic aka James Franco''

'The Britney Spears'

Accidentally discovered Via

Love the pure wisdom of the East, the Tao; the non-dualism we arrive at when acknowledging duality..............

To be a good yoga teacher, you have to be a good person. Sure I could get by on what's been embedded in my mental and physical memory from years and years of practice. And what of the energy in my heart and mind, body when I approach these other beings. Am I thinking of something that was said last night, a drama that's ensued in some other part of time, or a not-so-distant future? Judging myself as I move and sound? Or totally taking care of you, teaching you how to do such, for the next hour and some? Sure, I could get comfortable reciting a script, following a formula, hardly deviating from the structure and flow of 'what works'. But then it becomes a job. And jobs lack value because they are founded solely on their financial worth. And this can apply to anything. Any field, any talent, any relationship, any art. The technical skills can override, replace the fun and in-the-moment inspiration necessary to supply the heart & soul of the whole operation. The tired, vulnerable human gives way to the efficient, technically perfect robot. And some days, it's just gotta be that way. But over time, like feeds like. The robot sucks away the potential for joy and now-won satisfaction, and the human becomes more tired, feels more vulnerable, less capable. Its spirit memory has been overrun by the repetitious hard memory, which in the meantime, has been, technically speaking, getting the job done  So, what's in 'result'?  How much does it cost you, and in what value system?

To be a good person, you have to make good choices; do the right thing, as it were. This is not so easy; even if you are 'technically' a good person. And here, I mean good as in maintaining, not replenishing and balancing (what the GOOD kind of good does). And I face the repercussions of falseness in waves, in my own mental, spiritual well being. Sure, physically I'm fit and I eat right but the roller coaster still kicks in every now and again, and happiness built on faulty grounds tumbles easily down. What's more, happiness built on love is a hell of a climb up a mountain.
And what if? Would the views not be majestic on the way there? Or would your eyes be closed, creating colors, passing through bodies at multiple rates at a time. Would you be doing it for the views, of them of you (looking back at you)? Or for the sweat, the burn and occasional vista of fresh air? Pointed one-focus eyes at the top? Perhaps you'd take a helicopter up there? Whaddha you got that I don't and how do I get that? Or better, are you levitating? Perhaps your eyes are down to the view below. Working out ways to make it better. You can't help it, it's your compassion. Or your know-it-all-ness. Where do we get that from any way? Ok now you're rambling. [editor's note: let's leave those last few out before publishing maybe?...]

The thing is, in this world we live in today, bad choices are front and center. Bad choices are in disguise. Bad choices are so easy and available. It's hard to really grasp the fact, make a difference, label your act as such, as bad, because 'bad' has underpinned established lines of thought, behavior and impulse. It is reflected in our establishments but it starts with individuals. It is reflected en masse and the trees cannot stand alone in a forest. [editor's note: You mean 'materially' bad?]

Bad has no immediate consequence. In fact, bad facilitates. Immensely. That which is, essentially, good, right, and healthy is inconvenient. Takes time, patience, and discipline, can't be bought or paid for (or it can but you're not getting the results, they are. You just get the product, instead of being the product.). Takes a trained eye, heart, and sense of self. A sense of self that has achieved a clear reflection through dedicated self-study. Who has time for self-study these days? And what do you mean, anyways? Well, many people are turning their lives over to it. But many more are consumed by the medias they consume. Are replacing their soul-searching and talent-developing with easy entertainments. What's more, the soul-searching and talent-developing is only a platform, not the end in and of itself.
Art is a wonderful, beautiful tool for understanding ourselves and the worlds we create and sustain but art and garbage are replacing each other, it could be argued. What is considered art by many may have started as such, in a room, in an energy-filled location on this planet, in an experience, an insight and revelation sourced in many people; synthesized by one person, they, dipping into the mysticism of a moment marked by informed webs, an ah-ha where a ready mind and heart can assimilate this collection of chance encounters, over-heard words, quotes, run-ins, fights, flights, causes and effects. Then: the creation creates, becomes whipped and spun into a product. God complex much? Unbeknownst, the spark of divine inspiration generates a new species: industry upon industry built to sustain and propagate something you can't touch, once so essential you used to be able to feel it in your heart when you just lived your own life. Yes! You're living your own life, ah there it is back again.
But we've overpopulated this place. And money is the new old chase. And nobody wants to live with guilt and judgement so we say "to each his own". How do we get to a place where truly good can emerge to lead with the same success as Lady Gaga (at this very moment in history). Who, by the way, has in a large way, managed to somewhat obliterate a noble thesis purely via the medium in which she's chosen to represent herself and those so-called humanitarian statements. Is she successful? How do we measure success today? And is that not helping our case? She may be supremely successful in her inner world, satisfied with the energy she emits, the relationships she forms, the objects she interacts with, and the energy of performing.) But where do action and result reflect? They never really could, correct? Cause is not effect. Effect is a new entity from equation, equanimity perhaps if you're lucky (a real man makes his own luck) [editor's note: Quoting Titanic again?].... Site hits. Video counts. In short, eyes. Attention. Bodies. The more of them you've got, the more your success to pass on your wiseness. Is that it now? But where? I ask, where are these bodies? Google will tell me. And moreover, what could turn them all on in an inherently beneficial way? What a question to be asking, you should be ashamed. Who are you, anyway?

Why are the polarities so distant? Why is material existence so gratifying and increasingly 'necessary'. We're building higher up thanks to it but why this rapture of it coming down?

SO? How do we get good?

Am I about to write (right) the craziest thing ever or will I let it pass into the ether and forget its own name?,
she says aloud
By golly I think that's how Shakespeare may have written so many wonderful plays.
Where's a a recorder it'd be so much easier if I could have a microphone and record it all. Oh dear I think I'm falling into the river. Ah yes here it is. Or will there be no battery left, for me, to get self-conscious instead of Self conscious? No -- it's out. Better to use your inside voice. Shall I pull out a piece of my hair from the side of this neat bun and accentuate the crazy? Staring into her own eyes as reflected on the screen she asks, "Why are you smiling? Conversations with God?" and blows smoke right in her own face. Pulling her hair out of the bun she lets a cascading darkness fall to the right side of her face, reflected left. "Let me turn up the volume," she then says, and, realizing the double entendre, switching on a dime, begins to shout, into a sung, "Ahhhhhhhhhh". Reaching for her phone, she recalls something she'd written and now wanted to share. Begins to type into the note's 'Find:' bar: No, ah yes,

Noted:
I am a hypocrite
I know very little, nearly nothing
I am naturally selfish and must muster up effort to be selfless
Unnatural effort causes me stress
I like making people feel good, but only when I know, when It makes me feel good in return
Dancing is most enjoyable, it makes me feel free
Feeling free is most important to me
People give me energy, I feel good around others
Being alone for too long, or in neutral/poor company makes me into a destructive monster
Having a secure, lavish, even, material foundation is important to me
But then again camping, 'roughing it', paring down existence draws my heart
Travel, freedom, these are luxuries I cannot relinquish
I become irritable, disgruntled, cynical once routine knocks
I was slightly spoiled as a child
Because I insisted on getting what I wanted
I only care what others think of me when I feel amazing
When I'm in a shitty mood the world could fuck itself because I don't give a damn about its opinion
I'm a know-it-all but, as I said, I know nearly nothing
Xenophile, through and through
I am still immoral, or I was, at least
Honesty is relative and truth takes a strength I can't insist upon past the present
My love of ____ ____ (blank blank) has been met with much resistance, by family and friends (they're stupid, I am stupider), by the ____ (blank) himself, and I beg for signs when I want to give up so I can be free somehow [editor's note: I know you're not, but you sound desperate here, maybe take it out? P.S. are you talking about God?]
And when proof emerges I want to prove it to everyone
But I'm alone in this love
And I hope I don't go crazy
Because I think it takes a crazy person to have taken it this far
I'm fucked up, it's fine
I'm intoxicating, like wine
My personalities are multiple, thank you, ear for accents
I am human and I have my limits, especially in the United States of America, where an expansive, connected sense of self has been replaced by Facebook-gawking. And isn't it ironic
I was abused as a child, can you tell? [editor's note: big deal who wasn't? look how much we're abusing the planet]
Ugh I hope not, what would the neighbors think? [editor's note: Mars has repeatedly sent us messages that they hate us, it's in the Roswell files but shh don't tell anyone I told you, OK?]
Tipping is a pet peeve, that is why I love France
I am pretentious, with things that matter (like my ideas of what 'matters')
Let's laugh at how fucked up we are as humanity [editor's note: I think you should tone the negativity down, I know you think you're being a realist but it's not very progressive and isn't that what you love touting? Ok fine, let's talk later, I know, you have a rebuttal]
Hahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
Fuck you! Who told you you could laugh?!
My love can't be bought. But my time can
Hmm. Fuck [editor's note: they're gonna want to edit the curses out, you know that right?]
Maybe I should sell some love and buy back the last 3 years [editor's note: Ok, well at least you offer some possible solutions. What if we changed 'the last 3 years' to 'the rest of my life'?]
I can be fake but I'll coat it with sarcasm to seem real. Wait, I'm confused

::::: D N R :::::

you gotta be fearless
can love save the world?

They were having open studios at the ISCP this weekend, and met some pretty cool artists from around the world exhibiting their work...got to talkin' to those whose works moved me especially...


Departure by Kanako Sasaki

This photo was taken in winter on a trip she took to Latvia, to visit the regions where the Russian - Japanese war took place, where those 'others' came from.

It knocked me off my feet when I saw it on the wall. Still does. Amazing.

There's always a point in the middle of the battle, the work, where it gets scary. When enthusiasm's gleam rubs off to leave you face-to-face with your efforts, and their underlying motivating factor. What's in a good intention? Patience to see it through, to be challenged by your values. Economy, balance, progress. The realization that progress is a term so vague, its meaning susceptible to the climate in which it finds itself. Hard fact all of a sudden gives way to perception, interpretation-- the daunting, simultaneously freeing truth that the stories we write rarely stand the test of shifting understanding through time.

And you realize what you've got is you. All you can ever hope to truly have is your self as a conduit. Remaining loyal to the forces of change. Dedicating yourself to crystallizing the residue of a hundred different stories, moments, experiences, intentions; for others. Compounded like carbon, copied, clouded; you come an polish it up to cut away what no longer works, serves. Walking the fine line of effort and surrender. Of desire and renunciation.

What will save you in the void? In that space between where uncertainty rules the ego?

How many times a day do you allow your sentences spoken, thoughts bestown by you unto you, decide the outcome of your mood? Your day, week, night, life?

What are you deciding?

Are you limiting your capacity to experience freedom, feel joy, and spread these things packaged up in undifferentiated love? Regardless of your role? Or maybe, in spite of it?

You are the key maker, the moment is the door through which you are free to pass at any and every breath. Perhaps 'pass through' doesn't do as much justice as, 'let envelope you'. The door may or may not be a rigid structure, with too-solidly built expectations of a room. What have you decided?
Perhaps you decide not to make any decision at all. Not at least until the universe reveals a little more to you.
What is perspiring?

These revelations, could they help us decide in-line with a flow so fluid, so nourishing that we are empowered to eventually steer the ship ourselves? Lacing our every movement, every vision with the power of a unity with that which makes no mistakes.

That is, unless you've decided what a mistake is.

“my hands want to hide in your hair, slowly stroke the depth of your hair while we kiss with mouths full of flowers or fish, of living movements, of dark fragrance. and if we bite each other, the pain is sweet, and if we drown in a short and terrible surge of breath, that instant death is beauty. and there is a single saliva and a single flavour of ripe fruit, and i can feel you shiver against me like a moon on the water.”

- julio cortázar, rayuela, 1963

Thanks to only on de marit for this gem. Kind of my other-half when you look at our sub titles...
Theirs: This is not for you.
Mine: This is for you.

"This incident is one of our last calls to change our mind and behavior. Simply, as a species we cannot continue like this, time is over. It was over long ago... Animals and plants know about this, they have been patiently trying to guide some of us into a better existence, teaching us about stillness, telepathy and the unseen world. They know way more of what we know... And now, in this nuclear incident, who think about them, who is concerned about the dolphins, whales, and all the wild life that might be affected by a potential nuclear fallout? Not a single reference on the net. I find this funny... to say the least.

Regardless of what is happening outside I am very optimistic and in a very positive mood... how can I be in a positive mood while witnessing such devastation? Well, it simply means transformation. Nothing truly new, and as we know, we are all going through the filter in one way or another."

Twitter has slyly satisfied my writing in little bits, allowing me to give and release drops at a time while behind the dam a tidal wave was where I swam, awaiting the moment when, [Oh our dear Japan...]
Satisfaction in a wide worded composition, take your time to listen while letters repeat the silence half way towards sound
My writing has been employed under other capacities, with a more structured tone of late
Yes this too is great, it's all alright, it's ok
Notebooks I carry with me, notebooks behind my bed on the window ledge, books abound fill with an array of notes for work, notes for play-work, notes for good-work, notes for love-mind-body-work.
Insights and must-do's, he, she and they all too
Me-isms from a flash of the mass of places I've placed my head, attention fed, fed, fed
Drop the work as it may seem. Undo its seams stress the intenseness of absolute loss into a 'this' -- at once you'll leave and find yourself
And she comes up for air
taking gulps between a depth swallowing sorrow, and a surface returning tears on a steady stream of all-consuming I-don't-know-how-much-love-my-heart-can-hold this is it's beat: running over and down my cheeks; yes, it's free, free, free
Like a journalist chasing the next-best lead
Impressions picked up from agendas, stories told from the book of life with our talents pointing to Omega point procession adding layers of new repetitions
And a name lost in the aisles of history creeps into my 21st century screen to place into me here those timeless realities -- whilst lilies invisibly mark the air I breathe
And at once with that she's thrust back into her seat where slides slipped by a screen along a wooden-paneled wall with ceilings high enticing dreams; Paris, school-girl scenes
Close-ups remain imprinted upon the brain Campin's altarpiece his details all are she sees
Eerie coincidences cease not to paint her nearto folly of I-can't-believe
Which of course means that's what must be, it must be, there's no clearer way, it has but thrust it'self upon my head and shivers run throughout, felt to awaken even those proclaimd dead long ago without a doubt
In this sea of possibilities how does my free will dictate such impossible chance to let it be
this my dear, the magic dance, catch the reflection, glimpse the trance

I dance like this at home everyday. Thom, thanks for inspiring me to record it with a sick set of words on buttered bass lines. Wouldn't work the same, but you did it for us all.
Go home and STRIP (+/your identity off) to this song, writhing to whatever your body hears.
Essence, come forth from our eyes closed focusing in.to[o]
I don't care who you are.
Just a suggestion.
Are you really alive?


Words:
I will sneak myself into your pocket
Invisible, do what you want, do what you want
I will sink and I will disappear
I will slip into the groove and cut me up and cut me up
There’s an empty space inside my heart
Where the wings take root
So now I’ll set you free
I’ll set you free
There’s an empty space inside my heart
And it won’t take root
Tonight I’ll set you free
I’ll set you free
Slowly we unfurl
As lotus flowers
And all I want is the moon upon a stick
Dancing around the pit
Just to see what it is
I can’t kick the habit
Just to feed your fast ballooning head
Listen to your heart
We will sink and be quiet as mice
While the cat is away and do what we want
Do what we want
There’s an empty space inside my heart
And now it won’t take root
And now I set you free
I set you free
Because all I want is the moon upon a stick
Just to see what it is
Just to see what gives
Take the lotus flowers into my room
Slowly we unfurl
As lotus flowers
All I want is the moon upon a stick
Dance around a pit
The darkness is beneath
I can’t kick the habit
Just to feed my fast ballooning head
Listen to your heart

Watch:


Wonder:
Are you un-self-conscious enough to let yourself be taken that far, that sublimely?
With or without anyone watching?

Why:
Because it's beautiful and people feel/think/move/talk/transcend thanks to it.

Dance like you can't judge.

Looking at this with an automatically anthropological eye, it comforts me, makes me feel like it wouldn't hurt to have other such seemingly senseless ceremonies. Gatherings of people for reasons not-so-serious, not so entirely focused on over-stimulating celebration either, something sort of in the middle... Sort-of way SILLY:



Men in top hats, bow ties. A gang of 'em standing around a groundhog who's wondering, "WTF?, Ouch you're squeezing too tight, I want to go back in my burrow now, Who are all those big animals out there and why are they cheering at me" etc, etc.

It's so primitive in a way, so wonderfully arbitrary, heartening that we are giving our faith over to a superstition on a wide scale (regardless of the underlying self-aware skepticism). No need for statistics to verify, to prove that ritual, regardless of outcome, has an effect... I mean, they got suited for this thing. And the scroll? Don't tell me that bit about the Steelers wasn't planned.

Here's to that so-called early Spring

“

Never obey anyone's command unless it is coming from within you also. There is no God other than life itself. Truth is within you, do not search for it elsewhere. Love is prayer. To become a nothingness is the door to truth. Nothingness itself is the means, the goal and attainment. Life is now and here. Live wakefully. Do not swim – float. Die each moment so that you can be new each moment. Do not search. That which is, is. Stop and see.

”