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​What Follows the Rain - 03.02.15
A good dose of ambrosia, I could have stood in the rain cleansing for hours, teetering on some monumental discovery, something understood and unspoken. A day prior I was coated in clay sprawled out on Jupiter's rock at the mouth of His deep blue waters. Nostalgic and undone, remembering this was all I ever wanted as a child: freedom to express a musical, theatrical, almost classical vision of existence. As it is realized, the mundane rears its tired head... still, there is laundry to do, still ... I must DO THIS. I drink, to disconnect, to connect, to LET IT GO. Lightning strobes, is this it? The passing thunder undulates my bones, am I awake? I drink water, I am clean, both in and out of dreams, listen to its soft pattering against the window. When LA? Dear God, when will I fall ... not only for the sake of Love and dreams but for the very core of my existence, so that the world may see me.

 

​The writers beast - 02.19.15
It's always curious the magnitude of inspiration demanding attention at any given moment. I do my best to keep up, noting that often a flood of visibly awesome songs is followed by the drought. To maintain balance is to feel secure. Currently I have so many needy song ideas clawing at my heart and brain the second verse to my newest tune 'Take me Around' remains blank. Pressure can break us, and so I wait, because the installment of newness, of love is worth the ache. I push, I put in the time, I employ discipline, ritual, the work is in the stretch and often that lives within the boundaries of our own skin. To be touched and to reach others, this is what the beast demands. 
​COMING DOWN - 02.07.15
The return, it plunges you deep back to earth, and you live in the roots. You remember what it must have felt like being in the warm sun, like it was yesterday you grazed the open road, still high on a dream, still purging moments of love, expressed sight, things shared. But now LA is somewhere up ahead, and Vegas blurs by, shadowed by some unidentified flight, the lights blind but yet, there's inspiration to draw there. When you're received back, will she embrace you hard? Squeeze the life from you? Wrap her hands around your throat? And who will be there to protect you? To save you from you? Only the art, only the song, only the dance and the willingness to listen, the only place there is to run. Inside and back to creation, back to gestation, because her waters are always warm, because from her, the high is born again.

 

 

 

WHEN THE SHIFT COMES - 04.14.15

Hold tight, purge, exhale, it expands, LET IT GO -- the contraction is what I both fear and loth. Return to me Goddess, for I have strayed, the trail was ahead of me but I went into the woods, searching for release. I found it, I lost control to it, I went to the lake, I cleansed and I returned to the path. Now move me back, to the ONE DIRECTION, show me your vast power and beauty and I'll lay my eyes upon the crest of my destination; the shoulders of your mountains. In your shadow I will not waiver, nor will I be fatigued, restless or lonely - I will be hungry, I will be thirsty enough to stop at nothing. Tiny earthquakes to keep me alert, test me on this path to sharpen my senses, send me what I fear most, not what I want or desire, embellish me in your textures and colors, squash my busy mind of temptation into your rock, turn it to sand and may I rest only to re-invigorate my will, to shift my awareness, so that I may NOT need to be in constant ebb and flow but rather a steady and consistent gate to your home. Command me Goddess. 

I HAVE A REOCCURING VISION - 05.16.15

Ever since I watched Her walk the stage of graduate school, smiling so pure, clutching paper, proud, she is my younger sister - I came to observe myself in that moment as naked being carried to the waters edge. I am unconscious but alive, the water is warm. It's hard to say who is doing the carrying and who the watching. Am I dying? Or being reborn. The audience is applauding now and I can feel moisture welling in my lungs, like the windows sweat at night. My palms are clammy, but my body is soft and my muscle are firm and relaxed, they are wrapping me now, in ribbon, their hands feel like clay, I am part way submerged, the vision is haunting me, consuming the moment. There is laughter now, everyone is wearing the tassel on their cap in the same direction. I am wearing long flowing pants. It's still raining out, the windows stretch all the way to the carpet. He is there too, tho I know he'll be gone soon. In the meantime I struggle with my mind as they release me into the water, so do I sink or float? I can't say, but I recall the feeling, I am free now, and so is she.  

BLOG COMING SOON ...

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