“We had to have faith in each other.”
We grew up quickly
Shot through the air like a canon ball
Yet, beware!, they said
All canon balls fall, they warned.
I see them
Those, down there, waiting for your collapse.
“Today is the day,” they said.
How do you stay creative?
Whether it’s the world offered to you on a silver spoon
In the thick of life’s drudgery,
Where monotony and struggle are your best friends
Spoons are only bought from Salvation Army.
Either one —
One must decide to stay creative.
Cuz both worlds choke.
Continue reading “faith”
I grew up with Gongs.
Aboriginal Gongs, to be exact.
Long, elaborate explorations of story through music.
True evidence of using sound, music, and chants to heal the sick dates back thousands of years to ancient Egyptians and Australia’s Aborigines.
Well, sound therapy is having a comeback.
Sounds from a Gong or Tibetan singing bowls in particular hit home for me, and hard.
I go somewhere.
I feel tectonic shifts inside.
Blood flows in sync with the ups and downs, lights and darks of sound.
I feel my heart.
I feel giddy, I cry, I sleep, I dream.
The experience is always revolutionary, it is exhilarating.
Now there are more sound healers and sound spaces than you can shake a stick at.
Now it’s normal to lie on the floor, wrap yourself up like a burrito and allow instruments to do their thang. It’s the new norm.
Continue reading “gongs + bowls”