in darkness, surrendered, the waves begin. softening, loosening, hips free, shoulders roll. as music weaves deeper & deeper into my very fibres, an ecstatic joy radiates up up up from within. heart space. pure heart space.
'everything but the girl' soars & lilts & i find initial release in the sheer aural purity of it, the crystal clear simplicity. wonderful smart pop songs, resonant with depth & sharp lyrics.
shift to fred ~ eaglesmith so low deep bassy; morose yet strong; a melancholic survivor; gritty. pelvis wakens. always does, with bass. 'its just so warm,' the boy with the joker tattoo murmured, 'its the warmth.'
sideways segue to gillian, all bright banjo's & bending, haunting notes of dissonance. leaning hard into that strange beating of staggered notes against each other, just slightly off. magic.
backtrack to lanois. real submersion begins.
d e e p e r
d e e p e r
d e e p e r
down we go...
something about lanois' mixing technique hooks me every time. sounds travel, ping-ponging geographically between speakers, creating a literal physical landscape. brain leaps with glee as both ears prick to (differing) attention. man. he just does it. the slow, rising, building crescendos in 'the beauty of winona' ~ so sleight a hand at first, innocent enough; but by end coda? the full, growly, dark, churning, majesty soars. which, of course, leads to hendrix.
opening bars of 'machine gun' ~ and i am back in that tiny house in Hamilton, on the rough old carpet in the front room, raw desire coursing through, around, against me. his lanky, wired form riddled, sprung with erotic strength. my own body matched. cannot hear that song without arousal. it aches with the taut strung longing of every hot humid summer day together.
our bodies are cells;
our bodies are fascia;
our bodies fraught with tension & old savage knots;
each form of music lulls, soothes, animates, releases another layer,
until loose relaxation reigns.
its there you discover that cells are alive with spirit;
each cell breathing memories;
awash in love;
luminous with information.
in these deep surrenders,
ego long abandoned,
spirit soaring in melodic rhythmic blisses,
i have sent out silent heart calls to loved ones,
'imaginary' spirit calls of vibrant love;
only to have them literally contact me the next day,
years of silence or absence ended.
we so barely understand our own true potential; glance sideways off the top of the iceberg of wonder, barely comprehending what we are missing.
through nightdreams, reawakened heart~longing for the boy with the tattoo. through our shared aural soundscape, physical desire erupted, so long submerged under illness. through ecstatic states traversed, dreams recorded, staggering volume of synchronicities, i began to perceive patterns of call & response. evolution.
the so-called 'shamanic journeying' cd's? somehow insipid. i recognise they strive to reintroduce trance states to a numbed people, stuck on rationality. but the important factor is NOT the beats per minute, or the instrument used, or even the cultural roots of the music.
the most important factor is desire ~
fearless, stripped~bare~to~core desire.
heart utterly open, vibrating in accord with its deepest longings, imagination freed, all things possible.
pick the soundtrack from there, & let it unfold its own natural organic way.
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