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We are all children born from the same absolute beauty that designed the universe.
Separateness is the ultimate illusion.
We are all living in a controlled paradox fueled by ego, fear and loss.
Be kind to yourself and all sentient and non-sentient beings.
We are all children, and children make mistakes.

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Working with multitudes of perimeters is a crazy ride, not to mention delay channels and other crazed attributes dedicated to each and every sequence, equating to a barnyard of feral cats in heat, jumping around and not coherent of spacetime or cosmological signature.
Everything has purpose.
Even mistakes.

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This is so beautifully serene.
The Stag is lost, yet at peace. And the ambience of the whole place, with perimeter alarm chirping in near distance as the signal travels through seemingly humid air, reflecting off marble and crystal chandeliers.
Seems like a scene from a Hayao Miyazaki or David Lynch project for sure.
May all life know love, and boundless compassion, forever and always 🔥🙏❤️

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Someone in my apartment building was practicing Christmas tunes on an Oboe (or something similar). I totally loved it, for it brings back memories when a neighbor’s child was practicing the Violin, and hearing sour note after sour note. My girlfriend at the time hated it, and I adored the free flow of inspiration found within the discord of becoming “one” with an instrument and losing oneself in the process.

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Dystopian electronic project Detraction has a new album out. This one fascinatingly introduces pop sensibilities through trip hop beats that weave in and out of the experimental, dense soundscapes. As a concept the whole thing feels like one is retrieving fond moments out of distorted dreams. The final track drones on as if the dreams are becoming more vivid until ultimately they wither away. Detraction juxtaposes joy and dysphoria in a poignant way.

via/Breaking And Entering https://breakingandentering.net/2021/09/02/audio-detraction-umami-land/

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Sometimes time slips by.
Sometimes it rewinds,
and collects unspent energy.
Either way, time is a resource,
a curse, a pathway
into willingness
stillness, and procrastination.
Either way,
Time is itself
and you are
just Time in the Making.

060321

It’s happened before, yet how will it happen again?
Perhaps it will be done before it has started?
Perhaps it’s done and finished?
Perhaps it’s finished and no-one will notice.
Thus is creation, its own reflection,
incomplete science jettisons us
straight into absurdity.

060321 v2

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Spring is passing!
Birds are singing, fish weeping
With tearful eyes.

Matsuo Bashō, Narrow Road to the Deep North (Oku no hosomichi, 奥の細道)

Such wonderful introspective qualities in all of Bashō’s work, where spirituality meets the Earth, like lightning creating an arc of light over the horizon. Then there’s Issa (Cup of Tea), another Haiku poet that I love, for his material tends to speak for the voiceless, and transcends the earthly realm, being earthly nonetheless, and like Basho, Issa’s work contains a heavy amount of voidness and beauty.

Even with insects—
some can sing,
some can’t.

Kobayashi Issa [all the time I pray to Buddha]

And my favorite of all time:

On a branch
floating downriver
a cricket, singing.

Kobayashi Issa [On a branch …]

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You’re ever so multilayered,
and complex in design.
Your breath is music,
as is your skin,
a beautiful canvas
resisting gravity,
and its
past trauma.
You are effervescent,
and thought provoking.
One with history,
and enlightening
trajectories in the making.
You are a child of the universe.
Born from the need,
for a better future and home,
for all sentient beings and distant cousins,
beyond Here/Now.
Yes, you are loved,
forever and always.
Just continue being
who you are,
and strive for the Light.

And

Life is a sequence of events,
as are thoughts.
One can be edited,
in real time, as
the other tends, to
fade quick and,
jump out of
step.
Eventually nothing makes sense,
to the observer,
the observed,
and so on.
We live in a dream.

via/030421-042621