Soulful Again It has only been in the last few weeks that I have been able to truly experience that sensation of opening your mouth to speak and feeling as if the upper nad lower halves of your boca are lightly stitched together since you haven;t spoken in hours. Fresh air retreats into the depths of your esophegus and as you bellow something you take notice of how unique speech is. The condition that has caused this?-something close to solidarity and isolation mixed with hardwork and concentration.

Back in LA and experiencing something that can only be explained as culture shock. Coming straight out of free loving, small town, birchenstock wearing beach town to over-populated, hummer driving, fake tanned and music blaring big city has never made it more apparent to me how excessively we live life. "How many houses do we really need in this valley" I questioned as my jet stalled in the air over the raided land below. Driving home from the airport I got a bit choked up as I realized there were no feilds, no natural growth trees, and no compost piles anywhere in site. However the convenience factor is something even I cannot knoock; tonight I took a 5 minute break to treat myself out to Coldstone and smiled as my airconditioned car rolled up to the parking lot behind every imaginable grocery store. How complex are the different levels of joy in life. As Ryan might say, its all in how you see the entire situation, or rather, how you don't.

Today one of my teachers at the workshop was talking about creating art when he said "You must remember: music is not bound by gravity". Simple at first, I repeated that phrase in my head as I pictured myself jumping higher and higher as a piece of orchestra music crescendoed around me. Soon I had reached the height of my physical possibility however the music continued. I got it. I, myself, am a physical being who tries to impersonate the music however that job is completely impossible, just as a guitar cannot on its own will or even with the aide of a musician, change its overall tone and impression. It is bound my its design. I am bound by my design. As much as I attempt to ignore the fact that I have limitations I must or else my work will simply lack any feeling of satisfaction or even completion. So how else can I treat my body in relation to the music? Perhaps as a partner, a duet, or even another instrument with its own beat, melody, tone, and purpose. In that next solo I will play a simple piece of gorgeous solo guitar and be not its impersonator but its companion and partner....and we will dance and have a grand time and maybe then someone will see I can only be me, only in my body, and only with my voice. Yet when that solitary voice that sticks when it first speaks is coupled with the perfect partner, that piece that moves your soul and challenges your mind, nothing more can be asked for. Its kind of like life....no it is life. Maybe thats why we love our arts with a passion unmatched aside from true, deep love.


Bed time. Lets all pray that I find transportation into the depths of the city tomorrow and if not, pray for safe passage through the scary bus system! AH!  ¶ 9:54 PM 1 Comments

  time to vaccuum New city, different laptop, still summer. I've moved to Manzanita for the summer and have found myself a fulltime job that while not exactly my concept of exciting, pays the bills. The towns of Oregon are unusually quiet this summer and each day passes with grace and confidence, never halting or shaking...just keeping me aboard. I wonder if the rest of the season will pass with this almost wintery consistency, where each day looks just as familiar as the last but none-the-less engaging in its new inquiries.

Composting is among my newest favorite activities. ever since the garbage man decided not to take away my biweekly load of shit, I have been forced into the eco-friendly habit of creating as little garbage as possible by recycling everything possible and composting the rest. Plastic wrappers emerge as a blockade in my way of cutting back my dumpage so I am resorting to only whole, unprocessed foods, bulk grains, and canned soups. So far its been 6 days since I have put anything into a garbage. As for composting, I discovered I almost like the stench of decaying organism as they transform themselves into a completely new substance useful for giving life. Its almost like watching an external digestive system without all the organs and the product doesnt stink nearly as much as poop....almost.

In a week I leave for LA again for a breif dance workshop that will hopefully light my artistic flame that has been low for the last few weeks. Spiritual yoga has kept me active externally and to an extent, internally, however I crave to take space again and begin to work on my senior thesis. How daunting. But Fun. Time to water the herb garden  ¶ 10:45 AM 1 Comments