Chaos

Life is messy and imperfect. We will always find what we are looking for if we sift through the sand. We will always find the treasures in the broken shells and the bruised edges. 

In improvisation, I found this edge:

The chaos captures my imagination. The chaos captures my heart and I painstakingly follow it for more, for something I’m not even sure I know I’m pursuing, in the lines and the details and the intricacies, I marvel at the big picture that comes out of the chaos… and on close inspection, realise I’ve been mistaken all along, the chaos weaved webs and lines and curves and threads to follow home. Chaos cried from the way I choked it. It yearned for blue skies and freedom. Chaos cried, for the wings of grace.

How could I kill you? My rawness. My scrapes, cuts, bruises, mistakes? The imperfections of life… is where we will feel the most.  

Piano improvisation – Chaos: Winter is Thunderous

Moments where we look up and see the moon glowing, hanging in the night, a dark blue sea swept starless. Moments where we look up in awe… there… floating back into the trees on an invisible thread, is a spider on its way home.

Beauty exists in the unfolding and the dying… in the cycles of the seasons and our bodies, in the shattering pain of being heartbroken. In the light falling through the leaves, in persisting… in learning… the act of surrender is sometimes an art. Letting go can be bittersweet and poignant.

30th of May, 2018

~*~

Sand

Apricity

You are such a solid enigma. Filled with frightful colours, bold and daring and tender and hurt. It’s in your lips and your touch. You touch me with softness, like I am something precious, like I am a darling. Tender and worth loving. 

Listening to Apricity makes me feel like crying now. I knew how it was and where we would leave each other. I stayed present for you, I felt your lips on mine, I felt the intensity of your lips on mine, your body, your weight. The feeling of you, how solid you were. That was amazing. I would have stayed if I hadn’t been learning how to love and respect myself. That’s what it was, but actually it really was a lot of things. I’ve made sense of them. We’re on a path heading towards different patches of blue sky. But I have known your depth, your warmth, your kindness, and in your darkness I see, you’re human. 

I see, I’m human, that we’re all just in this life thing together, even when we’re lonely and coming apart on the floor, in a bottle, in the high, or the pain, or the scars, in the destructive things we do to run, to hide, to feel, to scream in silence, how much are we struggling beneath the weight of our world?

I can feel that, I can feel where mine ends and yours begin, where yours end and mine starts. I’ve met you in all the people I’ve met before you, and I’ll meet you again in the people I haven’t met yet. 

Isn’t that a story? 

When I started writing Apricity, I wrote these words down to anchor what the piece was about; 

The present is past is here is gone. You build stories and worlds out of your identities. Make them beautiful. Make them truthful. Believe in yourself, but give your past a place of acknowledgement. It made you who you are.

I think things always get worse before they get better. Sometimes we do things to show other people that we’re decent human beings. I think all that reveals, is exactly how human we are. Apricity is the warmth of the sun on our skin in Winter. 

You inspired this piece… because in the time we spent together, I felt so much warmth. When I looked for a word to describe the feeling, this was it. You sprinkled sunlight onto my winter soul, you met me in my vulnerability, and said, but I see you, and you are beautiful. In all those moments, you left me a little softer. I’m in a world of my own making. Deeply blue. Softly healed… and not ready to be broken again. I’m going to leave the rawness behind in this piece, for the reason that life… like love, is also messy. And when you’re alone… feeling all the depth of your pain, I hope you take a moment to feel the apricity in this world too.

Apricity

July, 2017

From Merriam-Webster online:

Definition

: the warmth of the sun in winter

About the Word

This word provides us with evidence that even if you come up with a really great word, and tell all of your friends that they should start using it, there is a very small chance that it will catch on. Apricity appears to have entered our language in 1623, when Henry Cockeram recorded (or possibly invented) it for his dictionary The English Dictionary; or, An Interpreter of Hard English Words. Despite the fact that it is a delightful word for a delightful thing it never quite caught on, and will not be found in any modern dictionary aside from the Oxford English Dictionary.

~*~

Sand

Deep appreciation

What does it feel like to let go? 

What does surrender feel like? 

What myth… am I over-riding right now? What strength am I calling upon? What winds… move through my hair, where have they been and what do they see? When the mountains rise from the ashes… and cities fall… and the cycle begins anew. 

What does being seen feel like? 

What does fear feel like? 

Do you know what latent fear feels like? Do you know what overt fear feels like? When is fear… intrusive… and when does fear feel normal? Letting go of so much. Letting go of everything. 

And yet… a part of me is still here… refusing to die. And… I would like death to be sweet. For the part that is afraid, that judges… to appreciate itself. 

Do you know what feeling too much feels like? 

When are you in another reality? 

Where are you? 

Would the world understand? Why should they? 

What parameters are you measuring? Are you still? Do they serve you? IF not… perhaps it’s time to re-orient yourself. To forgive yourself, realising… failure is nothing more than an experiment.

And so… half a year later, you realise, how funny, everything is. How constructed, how real, how sad, how hopeful, how optimistic and how beautiful. Duality is simply the understanding that everything is changeable, movable, shifting and all realities… are within you. 

This part of me is dying. It’s as though she is taking another breath… willing herself to live on… but I am in deep appreciation of her. I love her.

I am in deep appreciation of the places you’ve been, 

the depths you’ve seen and the tears you’ve shed. 

I am in deep appreciation of who you were, 

all that you held dear,

that which hurt the most 

once near to your heart, 

I am in deep appreciation… 

of the scars you cut across your skin, 

of the pills you swallowed at sixteen,

shame fit itself snugly then

 into the pockets of your jeans,

til the story wove itself a new beginning, 

I am in deep appreciation… 

for the relationships carving canyons…

for the ones taking the scent of Spring

echoing across the years,

blooming into barren places,

where was your voice?

lost? in the compass of the past?

be free

you kept trying to say,

and choked on the lump

that formed in your throat,

why do you unravel the threads

and discover the meaning of home?

laughter blooming from your heart,

you are,

the stars… wind… trees and birds, 

here,

I am in deep appreciation of the identities you wore,

the hats you cautiously put on,

from beneath

you looked up at the poems in the night sky,

You know?

I am in deep appreciation of your resilience, 

the way you mined rocks out of your sadness

eons deep in the earth,

I am in deep appreciation of the histories you keep

etched into your skin, 

eyes,

fathomless with the universe

twinkling back at me.

I am in deep appreciation of the women

riding on the backs of constellations,

Mothers and sisters,

Brothers and kindred souls,

I am in deep appreciation

of the love you showed me,

In your kindness 

your belief in me

shone the gift of gratitude,

the strength to be gentle

from your torch to mine 

this is a poem

in this world…

for the feminine 

rising.

Sand

Life, music and beauty

Ferocious waves striking the shore, echoing off the cliffs. The space of echoes. (soundcloud link) That was the imagery I kept getting, half a year later. And I can understand why.

This was was the last thing I wrote for months, in LogicX with sample pianos.  Half a year later I’m like… I love this. I love the layers, clarity and imperfection. 

I love the moments of doubt and insecurity too. I love the moments where I turn around and ask, why? I love all the whispers of this humanness. 

I feel like an alien sometimes, in love with the beauty and the sadness of this world more than this world in its everyday reality. 

I love how beautiful the wilderness is, the melancholy and the darkness, the rapture and the joy, the erotic and the sensual, nature and the feminine and the world, stops feeling like a race to somewhere. I love the moments of clarity.  

I read this metaphor, about two boys, in America and Peru, who both see a mountain. One boy sees the profits he will make by mining it and the other sees Pachamama. I still get goosebumps when I think about that. it illustrated for me… that the way we see something, changes how we interact with it… changes our behaviour… and changes the trajectory of our lives. 

Sand

The Space of Echoes

January, 2019

A bottoming out. A deepening… diving deeper. I realised, in hindsight, all my flaws become apparent, even though there is something redeeming about ones work… the flaws becomes obvious. In my heart, there is a deepening, a sense of wonder… a questioning… this was where I was at? Then I will honour that.

This was done by sampled pianos (piano libraries)… and there was a gift and beauty, to learning my way around music software… but at the same time, I felt like I was trying to fit myself into someone else’s mold – that everything I was, creatively speaking – but also in other aspects of my life – was meaningless.

When I wonder at the choices I’ve made, I get curious… Ultimately, if I didn’t take this road… where would I be?

My fickle mind used to love debating whether my work was good enough until I wised up. There are beautiful reasons for showing up to engage with the muse. There is a sense of… did I create this? The process felt more akin to putting a puzzle together. A part of me honestly, honestly feels like, I didn’t. That I merely showed up and listened.

And… that alone, I feel… is enough, to fall in love again and again with the process, with the art of work itself… and not merely the destination. 

On a deeper level, where I experience the music and not the thoughts… the feeling is of wonder. 

There is a sense of subtle rapture, of holding on, of searching, of yearning, of seeking. A timelessness to what is present, that those before me have experienced this. Every time the doubled octave sounds in the lower register, feels like a clarion to me, ferocious waves striking the shore, echoing off the cliffs. The space of echoes. I keep coming back to this imagery… if the ocean could speak… what would the waves tell us? 

I started listening to Gary Vaynerchuk’s podcast earlier this year… and he put it drastically into perspective. How crazy, to feel like you’ve failed your entire life… when you’ve only just begun… realising that… beginning is possible at every stage of life. 

On the healthy side of the spectrum, failure is a sign that you’ve experimented. On the other end, it’s a sign that your system is running a shitty story. It’s a sign that you’re being crippled by fear. Feeling like you’re a failure is a sign that something within, is failing you. It’s not a sign of your worth. It’s not a sign of anything that’s going to matter 20 years from now. 20 years from now, the choices you regret, should you choose to regret them, will be the choices you didn’t make, the should’ve’s, could’ve’s, would’ve’s… but didn’t. 20 years from now, can you imagine how sad you’ll feel if you shrank to fit into someone else’s story and stayed there? If you let disempowerment define your sense of self and stayed there?

It’s not merely sad, it’s boring, don’t you think? 

Sand