Those who do not hear the music the dancer is mad
"There is a dream dreaming us." -Kalahari Bushmen
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2150320521084887424&q=court+of+the+crimson+king+duration%3Amedium&total=76&start=10&num=10&so=0&type=search&plindex=1
All the questions i sent in paper envelopes to the night were answered by the dawn. Red as the old rooster, bright enough to lick sight from your eyes. Beneath its gaze, you can soak in its name... till your warm. When we look away, it parts with the same plethora of colored fire as it arrived..as the river of darkness brings its lip across the hairs of my skin. A large open mouth. Our sunset is someone's sun rising.
There is an ancient symbol, friend, that breathes when i look at you. If you look closely, you can see the world inside of it. You can see the unseen. The symbol is simply a circle with a point in the middle of it. A simple circle with a simple dot. In many cultures around the world you can find this symbol, a symbol for many things... things like the sun ... or the plants with a year (sun cycle) to live their entire life. High towers; the heart and its circulation. There are some that believe it is a symbol for the creative spark that links each individual, each divine consciousness, with the source, that lets us know we are co-creators in the universe...
When i look into your eyes, i see that same symbol, between the closing shadows of your eyelids, it looks back, look off, looks inside of me. The pupil engulfed by the colors of the iris-branches, the ring around it...
Some say this is a dream. Shiva's dreaming, God's dreaming. That we dream the Preserver as the Preserver dreams us. The sun is a kind of Nile. When will I find Osiris... when will i be blinded by Amon-Re.
The juxtaposition of earth and sky, Geb and Nut. When these two found each other, four of the greatest gods and goddesses emerged. In Christianity, the different translations tell a similar formula. "Now the earth was unformed and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of God hovered over the face of the waters." And there is life. Atum, the intersexed creator of the Egyptians created itself upon a mound among those primordial waters. Of course, the stories change as we change. But the sky and the waters, the distant and the close. The opposites, though, are resolved through a child, Horus from the light and darkness of Osiris and Set... Christ who spoke of loving enemies and died to be reborn. The Persian Savior Mithra born on December 25 at midnight, when the cold dark world begins to become warm. Death and rebirth. Persephone. Orpheus. Quetzalcoatl of virgin birth. Kaknu. The Phoenix. The many that die and are born again...
"The din of the dusty world and the locked-in-ness of human habitations are what human nature habitually abhors; while, on the contrary, haze, mist, and the haunting spirits of the mountains are what human nature seeks, and yet can rarely find..."
I walk upon a world of mirrors.
The cross of equal lengths is an old symbol, seen prehistorically, even tattooed on the leg of the "Ice man". It is a symbol for ground, for the most perfect number 10, for boundaries, for the earthly life. . It is a symbol for the physical plane of existence. In the Middle ages it could be a sign of the heavenly meeting the material, or even that all four elements meeting to create a fifth one. It is also a symbol of death, end and beginning. It is a sign that both separates... and creates.
In many early uses, it was depicted as a wheel cross... another symbol for the sun.
In cymatics, the waves form these shapes.
The circle and point, the two crosses.
Buddhist: "As a flame blown about by wind goes out and no one knows where, so the saint released from name and body vanishes, no one knows where... For him who has disappeared there is no form:that by which he might be said to be, no longer exists: when all things have been cut all, all disputes [concerning being and non being] are also cut off."
...They speak of Adam, Eve and the Garden of Eden. Two trees sat there. The tree of knowledge, both good and evil, and the tree of life. Before the fruit of the tree of knowledge was eaten, there was unity between humans and the Source. However, when Adam and Eve might not have been cast out of Eden, but Eden was cast from them. Eden, a state of being, cannot exist with this knowledge. Eden is a garden, tended, taken care of, domesticated. We were children. The Source trusted Eden with this because this is the beginning of the journey. Eve did not disobey for how can one really disobey without the knowledge, both good and evil, without the any knowledge of any form of ought. Eden was cast from them to begin their journey back to the Source. To feel their way, to suffer in order to know. Eve, mother of all knowledge, guides us. Before she bore any children, she made the choice to become... to transcend. Children were not her greatest gift.
Or, there's a different story. Adam was androgynous. The forbidden fruit was the knowledge of the difference. With this knowledge he split into a man and into a woman, into yang, into yin. We make a choice to believe a myth, a story... and it becomes an aesthetic we identify with so much it becomes our identity. We bring the dream, regardless of it being true or false, into reality. Into the flesh. And the truth? Our seven heads and our ten horns.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6158507484257773914&q=moonchild+crimson+duration%3Amedium&total=12&start=0&num=10&so=0&type=search&plindex=4
Chief Seattle: This we know. The earth does not belong to us, we belong to the earth. This we know. All things are connected
like the blood which unites one family. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons and daughters of the earth. We did not weave the web of life. We are merely a strand in it. Whatever we do to the
web, we do to ourselves.
Industrialization, "modernity", as we know it may be the greatest evil the world has ever seen.
For as long as we remember in our writings, there was always an othering. Difference vibrates through every cell. But collectively there was our family and their family, our kin and their kin, our people and their people, but never has there been such a split between the self. As individuals we ourselves are different from our family, from our people. If there were ever a purpose or essence, we would be far from it. Any excess in energy produces a reversal, unintended effects. Everyone needs time to be alone, but we are not atoms. Even atoms are not this way. I do not begin or end at the edges of this skin and there are many "minds" within me. Embodying the engine we feel a bit hollow without blood in our pumps and oil to swallow. Spark plugs at the cortex, and pores at the vortex, cyborganized infantry to mass produce the glucose of efficiency. Individualism has cut off limbs to slither through a tiny scope.
"What are you doing, Earth, in heaven? Tell me, what are you doing, Silent Earth?"
Do not place a razor to my locks which spring from the cranium and drop around my body, toward my spine. Electric fingers. Serpents both positive and negative, ions pulling me. Gravity, friend, pulls while pulled. There are no squares in the reality, no boxes. If anything friend, i am cosmological in my aesthetic. My fragmented mind and manufactured self against the whole interconnected, interdependent universe. Sores at the nexus...a library of wounds.
Helix nebula.
Earth teach me quiet ~ as the grasses are still with new light.
Earth teach me suffering ~ as old stones suffer with memory.
Earth teach me humility ~ as blossoms are humble with beginning.
Earth teach me caring ~ as mothers nurture their young.
Earth teach me courage ~ as the tree that stands alone.
Earth teach me limitation ~ as the ant that crawls on the ground.
Earth teach me freedom ~ as the eagle that soars in the sky.
Earth teach me acceptance ~ as the leaves that die each fall.
Earth teach me renewal ~ as the seed that rises in the spring.
Earth teach me to forget myself ~ as melted snow forgets its life.
Earth teach me to remember kindness ~ as dry fields weep with rain.
An Ute Prayer
The dream is an interesting phenomenon. We feel as self, we feel an identity in that world... but when dreaming, you see you and the other as different... though when we wake, or even when dreaming, realize that you are the other. All that you did not understand and did not see, all that acted and all that was felt came from what we call "the mind." Be kind, even to your nightmares, even to your enemies. The self within the self, the point within the circle, the pupil within the iris.
"The whole world is a dream, and death the interpreter." -- Yiddish proverb
If you look to the sky, you will see that we are always engulfed in sunlight. The stars are suns. The moon is only bright because the sun's light reflects off its long surface. In the past, the only other light came from fire, that force of transformation... now, we have created our own light... pale... humming... as cold as it is warm.
What do I believe? Music, one of the reoccurring elements of culture... well i like to think there's a metaphysics behind it. We are interconnected, not single notes... and a people's music will say something about themselves...
I like many many different kinds of music. I especially enjoy polyrythmns and dissonance... occasionally with lyrics that require interpretation, involvement, play.
As a child, I could look at the sun and not be blinded. I felt compelled. But i have always loved the night. It's a different kind of waking. I believe there's something in sleep.
Night nestles back and nibbles on my ear. The moon at the height of some parabola... the silhouettes blanketing my rivulets of electro-pulsations and I think of you. Moving into my dreams as i move into this kind of sleep. An inward and outward journey. Till the edges fold into each other like the cold winds onto warm ocean waters, like the night sea parting for the march of dawn... red as an old rooster, bright as the light from an incredible number of eyes, like all of your soul if could wish to speak in any way. But until then... the roads are open. The unknown is chatting in the blackness. One day, I hope to share my lullaby with the night and show the kindness it has shown me... if i cared to look. Skin grafts made of starscapes. We are someone else's distant sky.
"That we come to this earth to live is untrue: We come but to sleep, to dream." -Aztec Poem