Enough fog this morning to look directly at it. 93 million miles away and it’s as large in the sky as the Moon at a quarter million miles. A million Earths would fit in it. Every atom in our bodies was made in the very center of such a star. Amazing how literally acurate the myths are when the say we are it’s children. Who will be our Sun’s children? What will they do, who will they be, how will they feel? If digital is eternal will one of them happen to read this? I wonder if he’ll wonder how I felt just at this moment. Or is that moment and that one, and all the same?
Is to validate to your conscious mind that your wildest dreams are true now. Not sometime in the future or past. That the Mysterium Tremendum is reality and that you are it, Tat tvam asi. It is not separate from you in some far off place incapsulated in the metaphor of a Supernatural being who is not you. You are who the metaphor is referring to. The thing that is stopping your senses from experiencing this is your ego, the most powerful complex in the psyche, that itself was crested by the Super Ego, the structures, establishments, demands of what we call “Society,” whose agenda over time grew from being a tool for the individual to instead controlling him. The Super Ego is the Labyrinth, and you are Theseus. A modern day metaphor for the Super Ego is the computer and Internet. Conceived of as tools to help the individual, they are now beginning to control us instead of us controlling them. The way to break the ego’s complex is meditation.
Art is organic symbolism trying to use an inorganic medium ( like words, steel strings, and synthetic paint) to express the experience of the sublime in nature. Sometime the medium is organic (vocal chords, colored sand, body movements) but the challenge is the same: the audiences’ ego tends to conceptualize, compartmentalize, and translate the experience in terms of societal constructs such as logic, reason, and meaning. “What’s the message?” is a typical response. That’s the ego trying to block out the experience because it threatens the ego’s paradigm. Art is not a message but a ritual, an experience intended to crack artficial complexes and release consciousness
I think the production quality on this one is good enough to enjoy on your mp3 player, so I felt like encouraging people to download it if they like it. I hope you do! There’s a few things I want to work on with the track in the future, add some strings, lengthen the intro (I cut it very short because this song was originally submitted to an in flight radio service that required it) and patch the vocals in a couple spots. When I do that I’ll let you know so you can download the latest version. This is better than a beta, so I’ll call it version 1.o.
Love to hear your feedback, positive or critical. Leave a comment! 🙂
Imma gonna marry you
I can’t take it when eyes are so sullen and blue
I’m just not interested in pokin’ round this hay anymore
I’m interested in the stars and opening their spring bottom door
Take it slow
Let all the rest of it go
We’re gonna be a much happier Kannon
Workin all week saving up for the weddin’.
A horse of turnips and emerald glass
The neighbors will all sigh and wave as they pass
Who’s that button poking his nose through the glass?
Wait up too late and the fading lights will dimly ask.
Send him to Cancun we’ll sport the bill
His last shot at dancing getting a thrill
No mammas too tough to ask back her babe
We’ll leave so early so she won’t know ’til light we got away
Stay all night get drunk til dawn
Then fly back home and curl up on the lawn.
Babe hold on to the last string in the score
We’ll wrap it around the 12 headed monster bursting outta the sea’s silky floor.
No no don’t drink that sour old milk
We can’t chalk it up ’til we’ve sealed the deal.
I know, I know you want to be brought to the village door
Hear the reverend’s sacrament and the townsfolk roar.
The only life worth livin’ is just outside of town
The cityfolk sayin’ those bastards are clowns
I think back dark how cold it was
Christmas was soon the square was abuzz
Too brave to start
All strung out didn’t have no heart
As long as I was threatening I had to go
I wanted to see the ice caps crystalize in the snow.
I’ll never forget the tears you shed
Or the lives we led.
We’re brave souls in the nest we made
It’s all headed to hell, but at least we’ll have each other right up to the last day.
The first and only exercise then is to erase the sense of “I.” (pg. 121 Myths of Light)
You have to disengage yourself with your ego life and identify yourself with pure consciousness; You have no sense of “I,” and therefore you have no sense of “they.” There is no one here. There is no one there. (ditto pg 122)
