Blockage

Blockage --> something preventing flow and progress

perfectionism --> strength or weakness? --> an obstacle to build strength --> pursuit of something refined and worthy --> inspiration or inhibition? --> its my blockage to true expression --> how can it be perfect when it should be raw and free?

This is my blockage to break or at least attempt to corrode it by facing it, pushing it and accepting it... somehow.

Acceptance.

What will be, will be.

What is, just is.

What was, was.

Let go and flow.

Be present.

Don't expect.

Enjoy now, appreciate yesterday and be open for tomorrow.

Getting Through a Desert...

I’m walking through a barren desert. I am alone and in every direction that I settle my gaze there seems to be nothing relevant. Except for one sweet, sweet, succulent cactus, which held so much promise after its bloom but now stands far from where I came as I had no choice but to move on.

I walk. I crawl. I even, on occasion, sprint towards mirages but they only dissolve as I get close, along with my certainty. However, there is one mirage that keeps its distance and seems to be guiding me in the right direction. I have learnt not to chase this mirage, but to calmly stride its course because I believe this mirage will eventuate. It’s too real. It grips me – its truth.

I have been drying out, getting raspy and I am unsure how I could embrace this possible nourishment. All I know is this mirage has the potential in fulfilling my desires and getting me on track so that I can confidently walk out of this desert and look back with pride. I will have survived and be forever stronger for it.

I just have to keep on walking and have faith.

Jazz

Tonight proved that jazz will forever be relevant. I observe the majority that represent my age group and feel so far removed from what that culture is. I'm 21. I don't drink (much), I don't do drugs (anymore) and here I was tonight, sipping on a classy bitch of cocktail, in a beautiful rustic style bar, tapping my toes, rolling my back, eyes glazed with a serene grin, all just by being serenaded by jazz.

Dim lights, a light hum of numerous sets of friendly banter, smiles, all of which had jazz oozing in between. When you listen to every instrument they are all filling out their own unique niche and when they are placed all together it formulates a harmonious groove filled with soul. I find that much of music today tries to chase that outcome. Jazz remains on it's pedestal and will forever be appreciated and loved.

I felt content at the bar, in my world of wondering thoughts, writing and be raptured by the music. I love that this occurs weekly. It's my weekly hit of this culture where artists come together, all with their own 'modern' projects, all wanting and feeling the need to get back to this form of music. Flying Lotus, I believe would be an example. He is forging a path forward with his music yet his heritage is jazz based. I'm sure there would be many more examples, as I believe jazz helps you appreciate music at a deeper level. I was raised with jazz and it has forever influenced me in the most positive of ways. It has structure yet so much freedom.

This shit gives you gratitude for soul. It just gives. Tonight was the perfect example. People from all walks of life were smiling, dancing and just being in the moment.

My affair with music

You cannot intellectualise art.

With music, the first thing I notice is how I feel. How do the sounds drench and consume my body with a groove or melody...

I let my body and thoughts swim in it's fluidity (no matter what form this music may be).

It is then, and only then, do I allow myself to start dissecting the scapes and elements of that song to grasp how it has this effect. Flow. Ride. Be.

My favourite music is the type that encapsulates your whole being and takes you on a journey - saturates your muscles so they sway in smooth motion to the beat. Close your eyes and float.

Music is my sedative, afrodisiac and endorphin rush. It opens inner doors that let emotions run free leaving the heart and soul refreshed, ready to take on whatever may come.

It is a beautiful thing...

Waiting on Sleep

Tonight, sleep is an activity my mind and body are unwilling to accept. I lay, I breathe, I wait. For some unbeknown reason I can’t let myself fall into the dark slumber that so many welcome. I simply cannot let go. No doubt I want to. No doubt I need to. There is just something niggling away at my stomach that’s teasing my mind, infuriating it, leading it to a place of confusion, which has left the rest my body feeling anxious. I contemplate every facit of my emotions to find where all of this is materialising. I only feel more confused and frustrated. This is not helping. So I try to let go, breathe and be still. Nope, the stomach is still knotted, defying relaxation and screaming out that something is not quite right, you are not ready to sleep. Okay, reassess. Blankness. Impatience is now knotting my stomach further. I turn to music and begin conscious dreaming in the hope that my mind will carry this on into sleep. Damn. My thought patterns are heightened, I’m analysing every scape that each song has to offer, letting the grooves wash over my body, tantalizing every one of my nerves. Although I’m feeling good, I am not relaxed. The hunger has been ignited and I want to listen to more. Sleep is not welcome. Breathe. Sigh. Time to step into the cold and have a cigarette. This a pathetic attempt to make my body feel tired. Deep down I know this is only going to stimulate me further. It did. During this break a song has become a new obsession. Organic, electronic, lacing a never ending pathway to my ponderings. I come back inside, sit, open my laptop, open this document and begin to write this dribble in an effort to find some form of conclusion. Nothing. So what to do? Cigarette break. Reassess. Silence. I’ve got nothing. Fuck.

 

It’s time to exercise some patience and lay back down. I'm letting go and feeding the hunger by listening to more music. No need to complain anymore.  Good night.