Concerning Redirection [free write]

2 May

The opening of the doors. Perhaps they were always inviting us, cloaked in mystery beyond the physics of sight in the metaphysical realm of belief. Invisible yet palpable and at times pulling: absent and present, paradoxical and engrained in the dimension of gravitational pull like a shadow ahead and around the corner during nightfall.

When one door closes, the saying goes, another one opens. Our future is a blinding white light. When one door closes, the light we unconsciously fly towards refocuses like a stadium light through a pinhole in a clear and new direction. Timing, opportunity and direction. Combined with passion, belief in self and blind faith in the groove of intuition as a compass rose, we will all be okay. I will be light.


Black Swan

1 May

I saw Black Swan for the first time this weekend. My two cents: Black Swan is a beautiful and tragic visual narrative. However, there is something to be said about a work of art which tells the symbolic meaning of the entire story without words, without movement. I give you, MC Escher‘s Circle Limit IV and a closer look with his work titled Angels and Demons. If you focus on the white angels will appear; conversely, if you focus on the black, you will perceive demons. Paradoxically, they define one another. 

Trying to find my balance [free write]

24 Apr

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I walked and walked and walked. All weekend. Trying to find new turns. Trying to uncover truth under an unfamiliar overpass. I followed my feet and the music and made my way all around LA. The tension built within me had me wound up and moving my body helps me find a stillness in my mind. My restless mind.

What was on my mind, one may wonder? Like the groundhog waking from hibernation: to squirm against gravity in resurfacing into a familiar yet brand new world is a feeling that supersedes the logic of trying to articulate the sensation. My eyes adjusted to the darkness underground. The cool dark walls and leaks and creaks has made a home for me since I moved out of my parents house almost 6 years ago. I like having nothing to lose. I like the simplicity of having only what I need. I found out that I got a job I had interviewed for. I am thrilled to receive the offer. However, the months ahead will lead to drastic changes in my life and I don’t want to learn to value the things that I see are illusory and material and I don’t want to lose myself in business and I don’t want my dreams and passions to extinguish and I know that all of my worries are my fears and there is nothing to worry about because growth is like a tree and my core and integrity growth with me as I take on life or life takes on me and it took me miles and miles and a weekend to feel at peace with it all.

My heart is heavy. Attachment feels like a 7 year old girls in rubber boots sitting curbside on a log sobbing into the clamor of thunder and rainfall. Wishing home would call out for her and want her back. Wishing there was a place or a voice that embodied the thumbprint of home, the place to be navigated by the northern star. I ran away when I was 7 for the first time. This feeling of attachment as a 7 year girl is mostly memory. I understood what attachment means to me when I felt detached for the first time. I do not attach easily to any one or anything. I love boldly. Too boldly? What a strange idea. An oxymoron. I feel like an oxymoron for continuously writing this stream of thought. I just killed a bug that landed on me with my bare hands like Obama. And with that, adieu.

I haven’t posted any graphic designs or photographs I’ve made or takenfor a while here, so check it out world, I am emerging above.

UnTrue to Form (Dream Journal free write)

18 Apr

I just woke up from a dream where I discovered that I am a multiplicity of people, entering and combusting, living with me or merely passing through me. We are all in this state of hyperbolic fluxes and flippant instability.  I am dominated by the path of two phoenixes simultaneously tracing my lifeline  along the same trajectory at the same velocity, but starting on the two opposite ends of life. I am rising and I am falling and I can clearly observe the world around me because my perspective is still while looking at the other phoenix moving at my own time.

Dream Journal [Free Write]

10 Apr

The first and fourth dimension meld into one and the same moment.

1st & 4th dimension folding into one another, collapsing a prism, melding the moment into memory.

The moment melds with the 4th dimension mortar (time), the mirror reflection of the 1st dimension (length), encasing the 3 faced prism into a package with the folding of an origami cranes beak. The moment is the ember of a campfire, and lifts towards the night sky, eventually swallowed by the darkness in the realm of nothing, stars and the space and position between.


Chalking up dust from quantum inquiries [free write]

7 Apr

Motion and position of atoms stir the properties which we perceive as sensory data: smell, taste, sound, light, our senses are instruments that translate the wind-whipped chaos of atoms in the environment into the experience of reality which we perceive.  Let it be known: atoms have no innate properties tied to sense. Reality is loosely a construct of shadows (perception) of illusions (sensations created through atoms’ movement and change of positions) of the immutable idea of the unknown.

We play games in domains and come to a consensus of methods about how to play the game. Athletes report the experience of ‘being in the zone’. That is, loosing a sense of self and maintaining focus while time passes like quicksand. I dare to open the following can of metaphysical worms: Moving a ball (think, atom) through space on a team that MOVE the POSITION of both themselves and the ball  are unable to be subjective and removed from the experience, for they are a breathing unit like gusts of wind and together create the magic kinetic spark of sensation. The loss of the sense of self is a tale type indicator of artists, scientists, athletes and creators; perhaps ‘the zone’ is our natural state, like the energy we were before we were born and we will become after we pass, and the dissolution of our ego and I limited by the very consciousness in out fingertips makes we for us to reunite in this life with the existence of the greater everything. The space between, the energy, the love.

Just some thoughts in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. Decided to write them down.


5 Apr

Long time since I have permitted myself to process, record and POST a psycho-spiritual experience or exploration.

Today I am home sick from work. I may have dislocated  my shoulder or have an internal bruise on my lung or neither or both, but I digress–

I understand a central struggle reflecting on my life to be the alchemical process of purifying the darkness, in energy and understanding and humor, that I know like my left hand, into light through reflection discretion and being alive and surprised. and love. Like I am sanitizing the ocean of its bitter tears by transforming salt into freshwater. The curse of pioneers. The motivation revved by struggle which finds itself outside oneself for like energy moves in a magnetic and kinetic way…conductive and condusive, corroborating or collaborating, my task is to refine my knowledge of self and filter for feeling and intuiting these things through, with intuition, restraint, respect and knowledge of self and other, and finally, with intention and commitment to those intentions and discretion, I see the trajectory of my life in waving patterns. I was born with a fire inside of me. A spark. The fire is dangerous because a spark alone can illuminate the sky as a match to a firework or it can burn down a forrest.

Like i mentioned, I am sick so I am reading at home. Alchemy. Fixation. Gemini. Me. I.

Fixation in alchemy refers to a process by which a previously volatile substance is “transformed” into a form (often solid) that is not affected by fire. It separates the substance or object and puts it back in the same or different shape at a subatomic level.

It is one of the 12 vital alchemical processes that are required for transformation of a substance.


Directionally Challenged Organisms

22 Jan

The second-hand on a clock can not see how the minute hand is related to itself.  Both pass around face and space of time, breaking the eternal return down into ticker tape segments. The curvature of the earth is seen as vanishing horizon, a line that exists only as an illusion.

Darwin’s theory of evolution and natural selection outlined in The Origin of the Species is represented by The Tree of Life, an interconnected temporal, intertwined  diorama of consecutive mutation and adaptations towards survival. There was a first organism. From two organisms, the third and third millionth and so on can be drawn and tied together in relation by simple lines. However, the first organism stands alone. It seems to me that Darwin did not tackle the issue of God in his theory. He simply left the genesis the first organism wide open.

I had more to say but the gat of a gunshot just rang really close to my window. enough for now. It’s all about survival.

We Are All Misunderstood [free write]

19 Jan

Imagine: you are guiding your raft down an unfamiliar river. There are other rafts surrounding you: each raft is carrying one individual, and altogether creates a brilliant sight for the sore, omnicient eye; a ribbon of rafts speckles the waving ribbon steaming currents under currents of turquoise water, glistening with flints of flaxen filament like seeds of rhizome unconsciousness’.However, you are aware that the commoradery of the ‘one-for-all-all-for-one’ community spirit is a facade. The navigator of each raft steers steadfastly into the direction  oared and willed into destiny. Or, at least, prevents the door of destiny from shutting without lacerating the duration of opportunity to pass through a gate towards destiny.

There is a fork in the mainstream, presenting a choice:  to conserve energy by continuing with the momentum of current and detaching oneself from curiosity, or to turn your back towards the sense of community and face the unknown head on, steer with more force and less progress down the forked tributary, attach and align oneself with the mystery and adventure, and detach from the you that is reflected in the unconditional loving eyes of others.

Human nature conserves energy. Choice one wins nearly every time: detach from the curiosity of a whole new world and continue down the familiar, mainstream.

To ask a human to defy our common nature and steer with greater exertion of resources only to see less progress made is not inherently reasonable, only made so through the sound scape of labyrinthine, logical rhetoric.

The Daoist tradition values detachment as the ultimate tool towards enlightened nirvana and selfless living. Detaching from mandated systems or tasks tied to our development and identities in these consumer/commodity bionic lives we live rarely receive the recognition of wise or sagely; unfortunately not, and quite the antithesis, those who detach from the lonely tributary and unknown winding road  are called delinquents–on a steady downward stream, trading dying for living through comfort daily.


18 Jan

The Twelves are back with a new mixtape — including some of their new official remixes for Zeigeist and The Virgins. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve headed over to The Twelves’ MySpace to listen to their remix of “Humanitarianism.” Like at least a million. The mix also includes some of their home brews for Radiohead, Lykke Li and Fleet Foxes. Based on their previous Thirty Minutes of the Twelves mixtape, we can assume without listening that this one is nop totch. Yep, it is:

The 12s Episode II mixtape


1 – Zeigeist – Humanitarianism (The Twelves Replay)
2 – Radiohead – Reckoner (The Twelves Replay)
3 – Mirwais – Naive Song
4 – Of Montreal – Gronlandic Edit
5 – David E. Sugar – To Yourself
6 – The Virgins – Rich Girls (The Twelves Replay)
7 – Daft Punk – Voyager
8 – Jupiter – CHIP
9 – Fleet Foxes – White Winter Hymnal (The Twelves Replay)
10 – Metronomy – Heartbreaker
11 – The Twelves – Works for Me (The Twelves Replay)
12 – Lykke Li – Dance Dance Dance (The Twelves Replay)

The Twelves

6 Impossible Things Before Breakfast

17 Jan

I too have dreams. Below is a update of a few recently created BeMused by Design graphic designs that mirror that transcendent place:

Bassnectar Live NYE!!

12 Jan

3 Monkeys [Free Write]

2 Jan

Both: predetermination and free will. An either/or, mutually exclusive inquiry is il-equipped to deal with metaphysical gradients. Truth is soiled by the logical 1 0 0 1 0 circuitry arguments for an either/or world predetermined/free willed world.

I say, both. The universe is both predetermined in space and elastic in time. the fabric of the interwoven fibers of space-time also meshes the appearance of permanence (qi, human nature, not eternal but rather timelessness, or outside the bounds of time.)

Tonight at dinner, I said something and then my friend said “3 monkeys” and I just rolled with the expression I hadn’t heard before. Later explained, three monkeys left alone in a room with typewriters will finally get the magical screenplay written just right.

Timing and combinations. That’s what it’s about. There is a predetermined certain set of possible combinations. But as time goes on, the number of potential combinations increases in its sequence in a series. Elastic. Like the String Theory. Predetermined and like silly putty flexible through the push/pull pulse of a strong will.

Anna Karenina

2 Jan

Leo Tolstoy exemplifies why literary fiction is sometimes referred to as Language Arts in his  novel Anna Karenina. The language that Tolstoy finessed caused me to pause amidst my fluid motion of unpacking while listening to Anna Karenina during a specific passage in Book 1 Chapter 9 to fully absorb the perfection. Below is the aforementioned excerpt, with the perfect paragraph bolded:

At four o’clock, conscious of his throbbing heart, Levin stepped out of a hired sledge at the Zoological Gardens, and turned along the path to the frozen mounds and the skating ground, knowing that he would certainly find her there, as he had seen the Shtcherbatskys’ carriage at the entrance.

It was a bright, frosty day. Rows of carriages, sledges, drivers, and policemen were standing in the approach. Crowds of well-dressed people, with hats bright in the sun, swarmed about the entrance and along the well-swept little paths between the little houses adorned with carving in the Russian style. The old curly birches of the gardens, all their twigs laden with snow, looked as though freshly decked in sacred vestments.

He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to himself—”You mustn’t be excited, you must be calm. What’s the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid,” he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found himself. An acquaintance met him and called him by his name, but Levin did not even recognize him. He went towards the mounds, whence came the clank of the chains of sledges as they slipped down or were dragged up, the rumble of the sliding sledges, and the sounds of merry voices. He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her.

He knew she was there by the rapture and the terror that seized on his heart. She was standing talking to a lady at the opposite end of the ground. There was apparently nothing striking either in her dress or her attitude. But for Levin she was as easy to find in that crowd as a rose among nettles. Everything was made bright by her. She was the smile that shed light on all round her. “Is it possible I can go over there on the ice, go up to her?” he thought. The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror. He had to make an effort to master himself, and to remind himself that people of all sorts were moving about her, and that he too might come there to skate. He walked down, for a long while avoiding looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the sun, without looking.


1 Jan

Explored the new place I call home today.

Situated in the heart of the City.

I Love this Adventure.

Every Day presents Another Change:

A new adventure, a chance

to get it right this time.

I am seldom made to feel afraid and then subject to my own fear by another person. More rarely, by a stranger. However, today I was. This middle aged man was following me around the back of a super market, whispering at me, trying to corner me and talk to me and asking me sexual questions and if I wanted to ‘walk over there (wink)’ with him. I realized that there weren’t that many other people in the market and if anyone noticed they did nothing. It was weird.

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