From the Heart of the Beast

Hi All. Thanks to whoever it is out there that's lookin' up. I'm breaking double digits lots of days. Onward and upward.

I'm at my yearly proving ground I guess. I usually don't get here until later in the summer but here I am.

Physically, this is at Hood Canal for me. Just outside of Seattle. It's my family's summer place and, while beautiful, often brings on a bit of soul searching for me. What to do. How to do it. How to make it work.

The Olin Place house is getting painted and is all but off limits--we tried to grab food on the way out but even the fridge was taped shut. We had already been living with the floors and counters covered with paper and the windows and mirrors masked off with opaque plastic. Quite surreal.

But we are almost done. New carpet in the basement, new hot water heater, basement painted, etc., etc.

It was the carpet in the basement that made me think of thw whole process as a dream. Since I started paying attention to my dreams, I've at times looked at my life with the same symbolic lens. Sometime it's obvious. Your headlight goes out when you feel particularly blind (or dim?). I've had my rear window smashed at a time when I was paying particular (possibly too much) attention to a blind spot. As you know, this world is but a dim reflection of a vast, wonderful, immense one just beyond (or within?) us. Even science knows we're living in 14 dimensions--most likely wrapped within the four we experience. So what the hell is going on over there?

The basement has never looked so good. It's being billed as a "playroom" on the real estate listing sheet. I found a guitar of mine that I really liked when I got back to Seattle. It's now painted, asbestos controlled, has the cupboards cleaned out, the boiler fixed up and a fresh coat of paint. The windows work for the first time in years and years.

In dreams, the basement is similar to what it is in real life: where unused stuff gets put and sometimes where treasures are found. It's where some of the less glamorous but more important work of the house gets done (the workshop). It's also probably connected to the lower regions of the body. Especially for those of us who are fortunate enough to live on second and third floors. You could probably overlay a chakra thing over it if you wanted. I'm no expert but a facinated amateur. And have found little that interests me that isn't in some way connected. Your butt--shaking it. Sex. Feeling it. Ruff! Rough!

I had them put gold carpet trim in the basement, by the way. Not one to pass up a chance to put the white and gold combination into a living and breathing (or sitting there at least) reality.

A strange thing too--they mistakenly put in a better carpet than the one we ordered. It was much closer to the one I wanted (more expensive) and less like the cheaper, thinner, one my mom wanted. A thicker pad, too. They ended up giving it to us for free. Merry Christmas. And much thanks and praise to the almighty. Thanks to WIll and Pedro as well.

Your house is your body, your car is your body, your body is your body, your body is your temple. And, your body is your house, your body is your car, your body is your body, and your temple is your body. The front door is your mouth. At least in a dream. If you want to make your life better try cleaning up your room. Or cleaning out your basement. Literally or figuratively. One probably needs it more than the other. Or the may reflect each other. Get your oil changed if it's overdue. Or fix that squeek that's been rattling. And then see what happens on the way there. Or when you leave. Just pay attention like a story. What the old lady at the tire place says when you go get new rubber. Or what the guy at the paint store says. It may be what you need to hear or the opposite. And you'll be able to discern in an instant.

You're not going to get much better than your diet. Not going to be much happier than your thoughts and what you choose to concentrate upon. Not going to save the world (and feel great) with a dirty kitchen and dishes in the sink. Neither are you going to save the world by getting your kitchen spotless for the fourth time this week. But that's another story. Put first things first and remember that this body, this world, and what's happening to you is real and reason-full. Now wrestle with it until it more closely approximates what you want. And don't be afraid to knock a few motherfuckers out. Metaphorically of course.

I'm going to call my new studio ALL*MIGHTY. A name that came down from on high (although From on High is pretty good too). I first though of it as being we are all mighty. But of course it's got a lot more in it than that. A good mix of strength and humility for my money. All I need is a pair of KRK V6s to bling out the mix. And I know there's a pair coming my way. Thank you. SO many time have I been blessed. Over and over. From finding the best, most expensive oil paints on sale 70% off, to having not had a job in years and still having a great car and the newest phone. And that's just the material stuff. The outward manifestation. Most of my blessings are internal. Feeling. Things I've been privledged to witness, see, be a part of, be a party to.

First off, there're the ridiculous sunsets. I've gotten twelve of those just in the past few weeks. Just stupidly beautiful sights. Ridiculous and perfect. Above and beyond.

Then there are the children who have played with me. Or even shot me a enlightened glance across a room. Just doing their thing. There are the preachers I've been inspired to see, feel and hear. The glances I've recieved.

No less are the way things on below cost sales have found me. or me found them. At least half of the things I've needed for ALL*MIGHTY have come to me below the dealer's' cost. A new computer for below the cost of a slower, used one. The exact software I wanted new for below the used eBay price and bundled with a MIDI controller. Even my new sunglasses, which are very nice, I found locally as cheap as the gray market ones from China. Those were just icing on the icing. Blessing upon blessing. Some material, some spiritual, some personal, some emotional, some etherial. And often along the way--let's say usually along the way--I've been afraid I couldn't afford it. This is after 7 plus year of throwing everything I have after it every day. Relying on faith (and loans) for my rent while I published my book (after taking years without a job to write it). I don't have a trust fund although I have been the benificiary of many wonderful gifts. If you want to see if a daily, almost stupid faith works, just watch me. I've set my life up to be leveraged. If it pays off it will big. And likely fast.

Even when I've made miscalculations--like the time I bought a Rolex--the good lord has stepped in and taken care of me. It was non-returnable. I didn't have the money and was operating under mistaken assumptions about the universe. Trying stuff out in the real world. Leading myself financially--whatever, it didn't work--but even then, the good lord stepped in and saved my ass. I got a call the next day and the saleswoman said it hadn't been operating properly. For me to please accept their apologies and bring it back. That was a close one. I wasn't going to disclose that until I went big. But I shouldn't be afraid of that either. I'll get my platinum Daytona yet. The right way. If I still care once I've got the cash. I don't usually wear a watch. As noted before, I'd rather have a Lexus.

It would be interesting to try to list the blessings one received over a day or a month. Those things that were extra-ordinarilly good. Like the birds swooping perfectly at my friends Dave and Dee Dee's wedding. Finding a birth certificate in a box of papers and getting it at the airport 15 minutes before I left the country (expired passport, 4am). Making the ferry yesterday (even my mom, a seasoned ferry-dasher had given up). We were the last car on. The woman in the ticket window phoned down to the boat to hold it and said that they don't always wait. We really needed that one. Thanks G.

Being able to see my friend Pierce three times before he left the planet. Having him lucid one of those times. Getting a better carpet in the basement. Getting time for a nap on the days when I most need it. Being able to see my family on a regular basis. Holding a black man's hand in church while praying.

I also got in free to a Maroon 5 show the other day. My friend Robin Perringer, who used to play drums in VS-GUT (and in Carissa's Wierd and for Elliott Smith), is on the road with a band called The Thrills, who are opening up for them. It was great to be at a large rock concert--and backstage at that--but it made me remember how strange that world is. Lots of drinking and no real "there" there. The audience is looking at the stage like there's a huge party and wonderful things going on. Once the show's over it's just locker rooms in a hockey rink. Guys with tattoos drinking or smoking pot or watching movies on the bus or whatever.

Which is all fine--and could easily have described me at various points in my life (or now)--but not really for me. Once you get behind the curtain, the magic fades pretty fast. I just read an interview with Trent Reznor and he said he had a hard time feeling the way he thought he was supposed to feel as a rock star. Booze and cocaine follow. If the people who we think are supposed to be having fun--our designated fun-havers--aren't even having fun, then it's time to keep moving. Onward and upward. The nightclub paradigm of good feelings is running pretty shallow. Go try it for 10 years if you doubt me.

First of all, art isn't going to save your life. Just like booze didn't save it, just like food didn't save it, just like getting laid, getting married and having kids didn't save it. The only thing that can save your life is nothing. No-thing. The no-thing. Which most religions call god. Everything but that which is. Which is also everything but is especially, and specifically, that which is not. Which we don't see. We are all so hungry for faith--to believe (and this includes belief in nothing, belief in science, belief in not-knowing, etc)--because to live, to feel how we want and know is possible, it is necessary to put the immaterial before the material. The abstract before the concrete. The ludicrous faith before the reasonable fact. This is what keeps us moving forward and happy as clams. You are happy as a clam aren't you. Most of the time. Because you've been fed, housed, and kept alive every time you wanted it. Because you've been dropped off here on this unreasonably beautiful planet and like a whole bunch of stuff here.

But once you get past art saving your life, you can do whatever you want. Once your life is strong enough to save art. Once you're smart enough to save yourself.

The hippies, hipsters, punkers, heavy metalists, and goth rockers dropped out. If you want to live with more range of emotion, more happiness, more overwhelming joy and beauty, more peace and relaxation, more enjoyment and less conflict then them, you're going to have to drop back in.

You're going to have to become a leader. To lead your own emotions and then create that which you want to see in the world around you for yourself. And sometimes by yourself.

You're going to have to take complete control (with god's help), and assume complete responsibility (with total forgiveness, of course). We're going to have to build this one from the ground up. Luckily, we have enormous resources and powerful tools at our disposal. We are the strongest and most powerful people in the history of the world. Start doing sit-ups, yo.

What do you want?

Not what don't you want. What do you want? Don't give a second thought to what you don't want. Once you know it's not for you, ignoring it may be the most powerful way to get rid of it.

But now I'm talking about it instead of doing it again. As is my wont. I want to make songs. I want to paint things gold. I want to build the worlds first couture conglomerate of mass-produced magic. I want to recreate the world with as much love as I possibly can. To find people working in love. Relaxed while commuting. I want to create artifacts of a relaxed loving culture for people to find as they devise escape routes. I want to make stuff to copy like Jay Adams--except with love and relaxation instead of attitude and shredology. WIth grace instead of raw, to push the pinks like Charlie Christian did the blues, to see what a popular culture that has meditated for 100 years on the best we have to offer looks like.

I want to tell people that they don't need to pierce themselves or dirty their clothes to be real or authentic. To feel alive. That they are anyway. And that they are special doing nothing, let alone taking risks to be who and what they want.

I want place to play music and listen to music that aren't based around night and booze. When are we going to learn how to have fun sober during the day. We want to dance sober, to have the feelings of being drunk without hurting ourselves and ending up haggard, we just haven't committed to it quite yet. I want yoga studios with ample natural light and heat that play killer, uplifting music, even danceable, where you can get savory healthy food and leave feeling better than you came in. (And with no coffee jag or alcohol or sugar buzz that's going to crash you out five minutes later). And I want to package it and spread it around the world.

And I want other people to package their idea of it and do the same.

I want people to have the faith that they can afford what they really want. And pay for it. The guilt in a $1200 suit keeps a whole bunch of Malaysians working in $400 suit sweatshops. And microfiber petroleum waste products being dumped, and machines going noisily, and The Men's Warehouse advertising. Same with farm-raised fish, non-fresh Mozerella, etc., etc. They're affording fresh, lovingly prepared food and handmade clothing in the Third World, what are you waiting for?

I want to tell people that they don't have to get back at their parents. Or anyone. That no one can hurt them. Except possibly themselves. I want to tell everyone that it's okay. And will be so forever.

And that at the heart of the beast--is a heart. We often forget the small heart and freak out on the beast. Chill, yo! Everything responds to how the heart feels. And depends upon it. If the heart is calm and content, what beast even feels like snarling?

Get in there, relax and start flowing the love and there's nothing that can stop ya.

All the love in the world. It's all that exists.

--E

Feeling It

I'm back from Mexico and starting to feel human again. Vacationing is hard work. All that swimming, eating, reading and boat trips. It was a great time and my friends Dave and Dee Dee are now happily married. The ceremony was wonderful and just as it started two birds with yellow under their wings did this cartoon-like dive bomb and crossed paths on the way back up. Had they had ribbons in their mouths, I would have packed it in right there.

Also on the Loony Tunes front, the Banda marching band that played (Los Cobritas) ended with a refried version of the song that ends their cartoons. By that time, everyone had been dancing for so long and was so frenzied that we basically just started jumping up and down. If you want fun and dancing at your wedding, hire Los Cobritas.

The Cobras were in town for the Virgin of Guadalupe festival, which I had the honor to join in a few times. It goes for 13 days and consists of almost endless processions through the town (starting from all different neighborhoods) to the church. The band and large airborne explosives are the focal point (besides the virgin, of course). Even though they started outside my window (and the windows have no glass in Yelapa) at 4:30 am most nights, I enjoyed it thoroughly. I want a marching band in my neighborhood for a couple weeks a year.

On a sadder note, my good friend Pierce, a great painter, passed away yesterday. God speed Pierce. Pierce was the first person I ever saw make the jump and make it. Sure, he was always still worried about what his sales would be like at his next show, or what would happen if he changed up his style, but he was painting, doing what he wanted, and living the life. Had a nice house and a car, too. Good work Pierce, you did it.

Pierce was the one adult who would pull you aside at a boring party and go outside to talk about books with no words, creating new languages, and similarly good stuff. He also went outside to smoke, but he was interested in the good stuff of life and not afraid to get down to business--life, art, screwing, love, the beauty of tulips in the Skagit Valley, etc.

Thanks Pierce.

On the home front, I'm still in Seattle. I've almost got my studio together and am ready to bust. I'm looking forward to having a few days (and the room) to put everything together and power up. The good lord has provided once again. Thank you Jah. I thought about naming my studio Trans Am (what my mom thought the recording console was called, but I'm more done with the 80s (and the 90s and early 00s for that matter) to do that to ya. Maybe the White Ark? I'll sleep/pray on it and see what pops up. I really never believed that I could get it this fast. Just goes to show you that you don't have to believe--just do the work and be willing to die (literally, financially, emotionallly, personally, whatever) for what you want.

Then you get to do it.

Juice, who I talked about a few ago (CARE Muffler) has the songs I mentioned up on his web site: www.theconglom.com. They're dope. Chi-Tizzle.

Comments

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Love..

Oh Yeah

Until next time, my song is Back Then by MIke Jones. For real! If anyone figures out the chords to play it on guitar let a brother know.


Befo' my paper came, befo' I got my fame
These hoes that's poppin on me now didn't even know my name
They said my flow was lame, they said I had no game
I told 'em all I was fin' to blow they thought I was insane
But they my name started blowin up quick, now they jumpin on my dick
Cause they see me on the rise and oh now my paper thick
But they my name started blowin up quick, now they jumpin on my dick
Because they see me on the rise and oh now my paper thick

[Chorus - 2X]
"Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me"
"Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me - I SAID"
"Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me"
"Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me - I SAID"