silent thunder

Friend of mine wanted to watch a movie he owned on dvd. Dvd was in the living room... he was sitting on his bed with his laptop. ... So he purchased the digital version and streamed it from bed. like a boss!

If sound is defined as vibration then absolutely. It's all sound. Playing advocate I could (and for some years did) experience all phenomenon as nothing but sound all the way up and all the way down. All frequencies of vibrations in reality, even those beyond human senses and all our instruments seemed like sound. The great OM. It's all sound. But lately it's shifted. Sound to me implies hearing. Hearing is comprised of awareness. Sound now is experienced as a relational, transactional collaboration. Air wave vibrations, ear skin capable of sympathetic vibration and at the core, the awareness stimulated by that skin, are each collaborative aspects of one process... sound. Take away any one of them away and sound as I experience it now, becomes vibration only... Remove my ear drum and awareness experiences nothing of the vibration. Remove awareness and though the ear vibrates what is experienced? Remove the wave and there is nothing to stimulate the skin of the ear. In vacuum, without air to disturb in patterns, no sound arises. No matter how hard one strikes a drum with no skin, no sound arises. Cymatics reveals this relational aspect, for without the plate vibrating the powder on it, there will be vibrations, but no manifestation of patterns or shape will occur. That manifestation of patterns is transactional with all aspects requiring presence. Plate, vibrating, powder disturbed coming to rest in the areas of least vibration. The vibration is not the source of the manifestation. Any more than the powder is, or the plate. It's all of a thing. One collaborative interrelated process. Ear skin, Awareness, Vibration... They are for me, of a thing. Sort of like Fire expresses via three aspects. Fuel, heat and oxygen. Remove any one of them and fire extinguishes. Sound is relational. Anything regarding our senses is like this for me now... relational. Non-separatable. But just to me... and I'm not selling anything with these musings... just sharing my experience as this intrigues the shit out of me.

A full documentary I really appreciated is on youtube in four parts, each half hour long. Here's a link to the first one, for those inclined. Cymatics: Bringing Matter to Life with Sound

Cymatics it utterly fascinating to me. I began obsessing over it when happening upon Sofeggio resonances. Cymatics is the process of observing the physical shape of various sound frequencies revealed by vibrating various types of powders, liquids and non-newtonian fluids/pastes on flat plates at varying frequencies. Powders will reveal through resistance patterns the physical shape of various frequencies. Non Newtonian fluids particularly respond to vibration in highly detailed 3 dimensionality. all form may be described as a physical aspect of the sound of the vibration of its essential nature disturbing the medium through which is passes...

Wow, that is Stunning! Thanks for sharing.

Speer's lyrical guitar, DJ's uncanny pocket and Ms Lee's inspired languid bass. Effortless Coalescing of Three Complimentary Forces... Woven into liquid light for my ears. I hear Ms Lee and Sir Speer host regular live Friday night sessions via facebook where they spin and share whatever their recent favorite musical acquisitions happen to be. That just might be worth signing up for FB to experience.

where does mighty abide? in the boulder that sustains the ceaseless pounding of the wave? or in the water, endlessly eroding the boulders into sand? or in the sand, holding back the rising tide?

The woman speaking in my dream. Was this sound? I heard it. Though not with my ears. I experienced hearing it. or I recall experiencing, hearing it. The sunset she 'spoke of'... was this light? I remember 'seeing' it. Recall becoming aware that it was 'just a dream'. Yet I saw the light, heard the voice... Where does that light live? Where does sound exist? Seems, what is perceived depends wholly on the organ/process. Organs tuned to specific ranges of frequencies. Bats, dogs, porpoises hear all manner of that which I do not. Bees, Fish, Birds, Cats see ultraviolet that I do not. What of all that lies outside our range to sense? Is it 'real'? What makes it real? Do the Bees and me, the same flower see?

can there be buying if there is not also simultaneously selling? can there be sound without hearing? reminds me of a compulsively recurring insistent answerless question that arises, phoenixlike, unbidden in awareness... for decades... since childhood. where does music live? in the instrument? in the fingers? the keys? the strings? in the breath? in the flute? in the holes? in the drum skin? what is the drum without its skin and the hand to strike it? where does music abide? in the air? in the ear? in the mind? in awareness... when i hear music in my mind, is this still music? and at what point, does noise become music? deeply experience it arising, coalescing spontaneously within... reaction of organ to that which it is sensitive to... awareness, centered on sensation and interptetion into story. of what regarding the nature of starlight, do earthworms ponder? i wonder

horrific surreal just stunningly horrific.

Revisiting Robert Anton Wilson's Coincidance and Lynne McTaggart's The Field

walking. barefoot. in the hour before dawn.

this set... thank you!

Internet: So... what instruments will you be using in the set? Fkj & Masego: yes. Masego: I'mma start with the passport tho...

They are my new flavor! Happened on them when listening to Claypool Lennon Delirium. Been looping their live sets and gently dissolving into my headphones ever since. edit to add: I was wondering how that drummer stayed so deeply in the pocket... then I realized while watching 'still alive'... oh right... he's right behind Ms. Lee. He's simply following her sway and he's never out of the pocket.

This morning it's these three playing concurrently and looped.

Welcome Ecclectica... and empathy mate. I will echo the words of moment and Spotless, both of whom, put my thoughts to words more effectively than I likely could have; both are steeped in many years (decades) of grounded practice and experience, combined with keen insight and inspiringly warm, open hearts.

Does the world happen to me? Or am I happening to the world? Is it a contiuum of both? Are there waves with only crests and no troughs? Break a stick in half... and I have to tops of sticks? Do I breathe? Or am I breathed? Or is there breathing and at times, I become consciously aware of it... like life? So little in life seems voluntary the longer I play with my awareness and experience the play of this body and the environment in which is manifests... I readily identify with the conscious aspect of my awareness most keenly. Those actions i have 'control over' I open my hand for example. But when I decide to open my hand, how do I do that? Do I decide to decide? I don't. I decide to open it and open it. Is this voluntary? When the impulse to open it was to grasp a cup to take a drink? Did I voluntarily become thirsty? The line that used to be so distinct for me. So filled with surety and absolute clarity, has fuzzed out miraculously in recent years. I tend to identify with those aspects of my awareness that are 'conscious' as me. And the rest as 'not so much me'. But what of all the aspects of life that are utterly involuntary, that arise and unfold, underneath conscious awareness? Are these not me as well? If not, then who and what I am is massively diminished. Do I, if I own my body? Do I voluntarily not get sick, avoid disease and not fall down in an accident? Of awareness... only the slimmest sliver of it manifests in the 'waking conscious mind'. The vast majority of it, inhabits the sub-conscious awareness of the trillions of individual cells that comprise the being of my body and the simultaneous unfolding of their processes. I rarely experience myself any longer as one organism, known as a human, aside from on certain scale of magnification. On a more myopic scale the smooth seeming skin of my hand, becomes a craggy mountain range. On another level even more myopic, it is a collective tribe of similar individual cells, working individually and together to house my muscles, bones and veins. All without my conscious awareness. Which one is most true? Which one is voluntary? On a certain scale, i seem but a flea, moving about on a moist bit of molten rock, circling and indistinct speck of light, in a sea of unperceived light. Which is most real? The voluntary, or the involuntary? Which is most me? Where does the line cross between that 'which i choose to do' and that 'which i am compelled to do?' So many processes unfolding in the life I call 'mine'. Most beneath conscious awareness. Hormone production, secretion and absorption. Meal digestion. Hair, and nail growth. All occur while I sleep. Women grow entire human beings, while doing other things... Where does the organism stop and the ecosystem begin, when the ecosystem is comprised entirely of organisms? What i used to claim as voluntary... i often now experience as compulsory, and after the fact, looking back and analyzing, I'll come back with an explanation of 'why I chose it'.

I have come to love and appreciate decay. All life is nourished by decay. Decay is giving, utterly, wholly and unconditionally. Complete release. Life is acquisitional, always reaching out and imbibing, consuming. All to their season, weep not one moment for me when I pass... it is the greatest love.

Some really insightful sharings here... deep thanks all. What a gem this place is... Tone of the recent conversation reminds me of the following that rang through my awareness like a clarion bell ring, some years back. We are each of us, Gardeners... knowingly, or unknowingly. With every word and action, we plants seeds of effect, in everyone we affect, whether aware of it or not.

I spent an afternoon talking with a trauma specialist who hails this book as a vital and significant work in the developing field of trauma therapy. I had the good fortune to be on set one long day, without anything to actively do, but be available and the on set medic's main career is trauma therapy. We spoke at length about the developments of EMDR and her experiences and that of her two grown son's... the three of them with a combined 55 years of trauma therapy. We spoke at length about the nature of memory and trauma and how it registers in fascia and musculature and intra organal tissues. She spoke at length about the, at times, miraculous and near instant benefit of EMDR therapy for some folks experiencing PTSD and C-PTSD. In my wife's case. Time seems to have been the most efficient healer. More specifically, Time without more trauma. Her utter retreat from society for a period of years living as an urban hermit in our home seems to have been able to get her through the worst of it. To have a safe, relatively controlled space in which to do and act and react however she felt most safe and comfortable. She is now almost fully out of the shell. Actively mulling and considering what areas that would be a healthy option for a job, helps out at our son's school and goes for days and weeks without a thought of the former terrors that defined her mind for years. She's reached out to friends and meets for lunch a couple times a month. She's considered EMDR therapy, though any therapy is still held at arm's length. There were a couple of real shit folk therapists, who actually added to the trauma, rather than help. When she unveiled herself as suicidal. I quit working and took on the house and daily activities, so she could do whatever she felt she needed to, in order to recover. It was a couple years of hermit in the home. Then a couple of brief forrays and interactions with folks while running quick errands. Now I'm taking calls for projects again and she's all but recovered. The memories still arise, but she does not identify with them, as she once did. The memories have lost their teeth. Almost as if it all happened to another person, or in another life time.