That elemental duplicated rhythm that wraps itself around the syncopated pounding of the human heart. Sending our mind racing through a myriad of whole, 8ths and 16th notes that find there way into every single muscle fiber pushing us out and onto the dance floor with one thing in mind, To dance our ass off. Starting and fueling the fire that send the skin into a frenzy of goose bumps that spins us around and move us up and down the freak filled paths that lay between the bodies of writhing, convulsing, super heated sexy curves that form themselves from the rubbing of skin and scintillating textures of the human desire to move.
Driving the emotional magma of flowing lava that floods the superficial aspect of lingering hot passion that rips through the clatter filled atmosphere of sound and beat mixing together to form a melody of sweet sensual ideas of the romantic to the strut my stuff rip romp in electric sliding, two stepping, break dancing, shake my body down to the ground, bumpin, running man, roger rabbit, free style, doin your thang fun on the floor.
Music can speak to heart so deep it can bring you to tears or spin your bad feelings into smiling, laughing, drifting on the wind racing through the air currents of base filled guitar burnin melodies of love, respect, anger, revenge just plain boogie til you feel it in your bones. No matter what the venue, music is the universal language that has traversed the planet traveled to the stars and back again. Music can speak Italian, English, African, Elvish or even Klingonease and any other interplanetary language, to show that it is unique without form and or substance yet it is the true ambassador of our planet crossing every line and barrier that has ever existed through out time.
Music has put every baby on this gospel singin, lullaby hummin, soulful, ballad croonin sweet angels sing voice from the farthest reaches of our universe and beyond,to sleep. Music can heal, hurt or even inspire one to believe that even the harshest uncomfortable situation will be ok. So sit back, relax and let the magic carpet of Music take you to the places that lay within your deepest dreams.
Markus
October 22, 2009
October 5, 2009
Escapade: Looking through the spiritual window
In the moment of my awareness, I am soaring through the sky like a great eagle on wing. The moisture in the air feels cool against my senses, my eyes razor sharp and able to pick out even the smallest of movement below. Colors, vibrant colors and alive with the life force that every living thing possesses. Every tree seems to wave at me as I pass over as to whisper to me the song of the winds embrace against their leaves. Green is the grass beneath, swirling and rising like a great ocean of emerald waves calling for me to swim in the calm of the rhythm they create with each roll and curl.
Suspended, drifting on an invisible blanket of love that cradles me to the heights of heaven and through the ether's of internal universe. The smell of the earth is almost intoxicating as the richness of her soil reaches the clarity of my senses and beckons me, Abide…..
I turn my thoughts down and my body response, gliding so close I brush the tree tops as I speed along. Over the water now and I can see my reflection in the silence that is the substance which composes my being. A head or behind is not the question. Only that I am. The grass is thick and soft to my perception and the smell is sweet and moist. The tree’s sway back and forth to the music of the breeze and the dance is breath taking. As I walk through this sea of stimuli, I find my awareness increasing with every step. The bees in the distance gathering their pollen and the songs of birds surround me in a concert of life.
My thoughts drift in and out of the physically phasic memories that are my bio-spiritual record of the liquid we are immersed in. A three hundred sixty degree living life experience of created expression through the essence of my awareness. But where is the designer of this place? Who is the care taker of this garden of beauty? As I look around me, it seems my very thoughts materialize before me. Fruit laden trees and crystal clear waters at my feet. Yet it all feels somehow so familiar and home like, in all its splendor. As my thoughts align, and the singularity of truth culminates inside of me, I remember and my understanding is complete. I am the care taker. “I the creator of such beauty and life”. I am the well spring which the living cell of liquid life was formed.
Reader: ask yourself, were are the hands that paint my dreams, or how is it I can close my eyes and find a world so alive with every sense intact? Taste, touch, visualization, audibility, even the sweet scent of the grass, all there. A multi-dimensional world within you, whatever you decide, realize this. Only you set the boundaries that govern your ability to reach beyond that which is are choice. That the illusion of limitation is up to you and you alone. Close your eyes and see. There are no great hands that form from the nothingness to paint the dreams that flow through your minds eye. No painter, photographer that sets the mood of the scene. You are the creator which births the filaments of fiber that we call thought. Our imagination, oh but wait, our “image-in-motion” abilities we are born with, they are an inherent product of our true lineage.
The living care takers of the universes, the true sons and daughters of the creators. Let the pettiness of self concept pass. Yes, individual expression of life but connected, linked and loved.
From the
Painter.
Suspended, drifting on an invisible blanket of love that cradles me to the heights of heaven and through the ether's of internal universe. The smell of the earth is almost intoxicating as the richness of her soil reaches the clarity of my senses and beckons me, Abide…..
I turn my thoughts down and my body response, gliding so close I brush the tree tops as I speed along. Over the water now and I can see my reflection in the silence that is the substance which composes my being. A head or behind is not the question. Only that I am. The grass is thick and soft to my perception and the smell is sweet and moist. The tree’s sway back and forth to the music of the breeze and the dance is breath taking. As I walk through this sea of stimuli, I find my awareness increasing with every step. The bees in the distance gathering their pollen and the songs of birds surround me in a concert of life.
My thoughts drift in and out of the physically phasic memories that are my bio-spiritual record of the liquid we are immersed in. A three hundred sixty degree living life experience of created expression through the essence of my awareness. But where is the designer of this place? Who is the care taker of this garden of beauty? As I look around me, it seems my very thoughts materialize before me. Fruit laden trees and crystal clear waters at my feet. Yet it all feels somehow so familiar and home like, in all its splendor. As my thoughts align, and the singularity of truth culminates inside of me, I remember and my understanding is complete. I am the care taker. “I the creator of such beauty and life”. I am the well spring which the living cell of liquid life was formed.
Reader: ask yourself, were are the hands that paint my dreams, or how is it I can close my eyes and find a world so alive with every sense intact? Taste, touch, visualization, audibility, even the sweet scent of the grass, all there. A multi-dimensional world within you, whatever you decide, realize this. Only you set the boundaries that govern your ability to reach beyond that which is are choice. That the illusion of limitation is up to you and you alone. Close your eyes and see. There are no great hands that form from the nothingness to paint the dreams that flow through your minds eye. No painter, photographer that sets the mood of the scene. You are the creator which births the filaments of fiber that we call thought. Our imagination, oh but wait, our “image-in-motion” abilities we are born with, they are an inherent product of our true lineage.
The living care takers of the universes, the true sons and daughters of the creators. Let the pettiness of self concept pass. Yes, individual expression of life but connected, linked and loved.
From the
Painter.
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