Glimmerings from another, bigger You
As detailed in my post The Last Band, the final dissolve of my band Holly Mae & the Painted Room was an initiatory heartache that marked a personal epoch of solo creative travels and travails, for a number of reasons. My dissolution was not only musical, but played out in the field of my experiences with music.
The ego dismantle is ongoing and, now I understand, a positive force at work in my life. I am always pulling on a thread that unravels my tapestry of assumptions about music, collaboration, friendship, and my personal purpose for being in the world.
It is a lot of undoing. Though sometimes I have palpable moves forward, more often I feel like Penelope at her shroud, working backwards off the loom, all work always undone, returned back into the loving diaphenous void.
Throughout this forever process, I find that songs, like dreams, often hold all the information you could ever need, right in front of your own nose, though the ego’s incredible capacity for blindness and self-protection against truths too big to yet digest causes these insights not to stick.
Some of the first songs that came out after the band ended were already “ascension songs” as I see it now. This one, called Surf Beach, has to do with the glimmering of discovery of the idea of higher light coding incoming, and the idea of a destiny relating to helping others ease their sorrows.
My invitation to You:
Look over your own work (in any art medium), and see if you can find any glimmerings of a prescient, more wise, tuned in and tapped in part of your Self, who may know more than you do now. She/He/They may have also already known more than you do now, back then (if it is an older piece).
Suggestion for Journaling on this topic:
What does it mean that what you already know but don’t fully know that you know, comes out in your artwork? What are the advantages and implications of this? What can you surmise from this?
Lyrics
Let everyone take care to pour out a light each morning
before the blackness billows out.
We need that light so bad
to hold our animal bodies
from the corroding force
of dark seeping floods
through our beautiful cores.
There is a goldenrod stretched across the nation
from the east to the west.
I follow the flow lines
like we all move with one mind,
follow it out to the water.
Listening to the holler of warm-blooded beasts
as they move through the deep.
We need that light so bad
to hold our animal bodies
from the corroding force.
There is a light shield
just beyond the scope of my vision,
white rose peach and gold.
And I can call it down
by the right of my open crown,
because you know that I was was born free
to hold this light in my body.
There is a surf beach at the end of the road,
and I will meet you there.
Under the dog star when the tide is low,
I will reach you there
as we reel out our sorrows,
like a kite in the salt wind.
We need that light so bad
to hold our animal bodies
from the corroding force.
Thank you for reading, beloved.
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Thumbnail image respectfully borrowed from The Wonderful Things You Will Be, by Emily Winfield Martin.