Sound And The Messenger
Hello and welcome. Creativity shows itself in a myriad of different ways for me. I intend to get out of my comfort zone on this page, be vulnerable and create. Follow me @soundandthemessenger
Twenty seconds more and the blinking red dot would switch to green. 24 hours before he had purchased the handheld from a nearby electronic store and here he was using it. The synchronicity of it all was quite uncanny. In that moment of that thought the machine switched over all the files downloading, seeming like all the information of the world was running though the small device in electronic form. The tiny CPU buzzed like a hummingbird. It seemed so easy! Why had no one else done this? Why would anyone else want to do this? Actually there were lots of people that we're interested. Would he reveal it? All these thoughts ran through his head. "There's a lot going on in the world, but there's more going on in my mind" He thought about the quote from the girl in "The Land of OZ" That's what they had called it. He thought about the giant coverup, the conspiracy or was it? Long the jury had been out. Then it was finished and the only result letting anyone know what had just happened was the small letters blinking in green on the device that faintly spelled out the word "TITANIC"
The Find We're always seeking to find that next thing. That next product that gives us great energy, yet doesn't break the bank and it's always a plus if it's environmentally friendly. For the better part of the last six months life has found me in Arizona or I have found it, or a mix of both. To be more specific, I've been making the rounds darting in and around Sedona. It's summer now and the desert has been hot. I heat up my store bought vegan pizza at a temperature of 125 degrees Fahrenheit and it's getting up past 100 degrees on a daily basis. To this I often ponder "If you eat a lot of vegan pizza are you a vegan pizza"? We'll leave the answer to the desert wind.
Where The Gigs Start
Saying Things They say life starts when your best made plans take a break on the side of a highway somewhere between Moab and Sedona on the reservation in the middle of June. They also say that none of these things really matter. You could've lived in Japan, played music in Australia, kayaked many rivers, climbed many peaks, but really life spits out "who cares" at you around every turn. That's why playing music and making art is important. It really jumbles everything together and plops you down in a coffee shop so you can pretend to write and enjoy your favorite brew. That's why you're doing that in that precise moment. No one really knows what brings you there and with time you learn to not care about that either. Now that doesn't mean that everything's not sacred. Not caring and being sacred as it turns out are two very different things. The answer to why this is requires lots of contemplation and few words and so it's better to refrain from any true answer. Any true answer really gets away from the answer or it becomes a fake answer or something in between. It can be kind of compared to the smell of coffee versus what coffee actually tastes like. You're the one writing in a coffee shop though so it seems linked up to write this down to explain things. You're the creator in every moment and at the same time not at all.
The Drawing Out
She was always a little scared when they went on the buffalo hunt, yet she was proud of him as well. Five days they were usually gone. The wind blew across the desert plains during this time and occasionally the sky would grow pregnant in the afternoon. It would then wash the land soon after, transforming everything from dry to wet and then low hung clouds would leave the tall canyon towers misty and fresh. She liked to take walks occasionally after the storms, as the sage was especially pungent after the rain had been with it, small raindrops clinging to the plants green flowers, seeking to hold onto the remnants of the storm for a little longer. Sometimes the thunder rolled deep in the night, droplets drumming on her sinew tepee and deep rumbling from closer and farther away mixing with the pauses in her heartbeat. She'd wake up, wet as the rain pouring outside on many of these kinds of nights and without him, her hands would dig deep under the furs. She'd soon find both of her legs moist and she'd sigh as she found her opening with soft fingers and imagine the way he could touch her slowly.
Start Off Your Morning Spring
As some of you may know if you've read some of my other articles, or if you've seen me on Spotify and listened to my music, or if you've happened to find me on the web, I find myself jumping around in many different professions during this time of my life. Mostly, for the winter I've been a massage therapist at a wonderful spa here in the high Rockies of Colorado. As a result I have found it imperative that I have good energy when I start my day. About a year ago I stumbled upon Robin Sharma's book "The 5 am club," which I committed to for 90 days and then proceeded to throw out my back and so that practice quickly went on the back burner. However, recently, I've dug myself back into into that practice, staring up into those mystic Colorado stars at 5am as I head out for my 30 minutes of running insert Isabel's Paige's "Oh my gosh Wowww" exclamation. Lately, however a key part of my routine has been what I put into my body first thing in the morning and one of the key players is this green juice company that I discovered.
Mantra is to Affirmation
When I returned from India at the turn of 2017 into 2018 I was called to go see a hand reader. By visiting her I think it definitely shook up my life and my perception. A few months later I would end up moving to Rifle, which was a decision I could've hardly fathomed at the time. By moving there I was able play some music gigs in nearby Grand Junction, made a connection with a girl whom would then become a great friend into the present day and also this would cause me to probably put my money in on a loop pedal, which was a purchase which I haven't regretted and has surely added to the creative spark in the times where all creative sparks can go out. Apart from these external positive externalities, I also was left with learning about the power of numbers and specifically the belief that the Universe, "The Divine" "your higher source" is always looking to speak with you, but doesn't know how, therein comes the presence of numerology.
Jose Cupertino sped down Highway 133 in an old busted up 1985 Toyota pickup truck. He had been driving for days, weeks, hours. Time didn't really register to him anymore. His main last memory among his numerous other thoughts was of a woman handing him a black notebook. He could remember the look in her eyes as she handed it to him. It was an expression of fear, tired, lamentable fear. He was the last person anyone would suspect and that probably had been the reason of why he was chosen. He was a postal office worker in the little town of Medillin. It was a town that had transformed from a peaceful village to one of civil unrest. Killings and gunshots were now a part of everyday life. In the black book was a short plea to hide the pages secrets and stuck into the bookend was a passport, his photo imprinted in the middle of it, perfectly as though it had always been there. He had never been to the U.S. He found it somewhat ironic that now he was being forced there that night. He had barely known the woman. She had been a regular customer of his, an international customer, and later there had been a light friendship, but nothing more and now he was headed up north to meet relatives of hers that she had never seen and he had never known apart from the envelops that he would deliver to her doorstep every couple of weeks. It seemed fitting for the times, yet surreal to reality at that moment. It was under the cover of darkness that he had left Medillin with its deep green hills and humid breeze. There was a guard post just outside of the village and he was stopped, but no one paid much attention to the run of the mill postal worker. Soon the green hills were at his back and night sky were in the windshield before him. Two hours later he had made it through customs at the Metropolitan Airport. The passport had checked through, a modest business man he appeared to be in the photo and then he was taxing on the runway with another 150 passengers headed for Houston, Texas. As the wheels left the tarmac two words popped into his brain and he wondered why they would be those two words, but also partly understood and then the plane banked upward into the black space of the Columbian night sky and disappeared into the low hanging clouds that only a jungle could command and contain.
The Story Of The Back
Fall has fallen onto Colorado. It's increasingly become one of my favorite seasons as I've continued to live out life on Earth during this changing time. That being said, It definitely does not mean that the season does not pose its own challenges as each season does. Quite the contrary occurs in fact. For the past six years of my life I've spent my time either changing and evolving as a musician and songwriter, but also doing the same as a massage therapist. How I came into both vocations is a subject for another article, but for this occasion I'd like to speak about my journey with the lower back. For whatever reason, I've always had a tight lower back. From an early age it's been something that has been part of my life. It's followed me in my sports career early on in high school as I navigated different endurance sports. It's followed me to Japan when I went to live there to teach English and it is with me now. It's a teacher, although I haven't always regarded it as such. In the past it was an ailment, a weakness. Slowly however, I'm learning to see the blessing that this "ailment" has provided me with. Autumn just happens to be the time when my lower back reminds me that it's still there and what it has done for me.
In the morning it's easy to immediately become stressed. That happened to me this morning. One of the first recommendations that I deem one should not do upon waking up is to check their email. On this particular morning I did just that and three emails down was a bill. My mind went immediately into lack of gratitude. In that moment the cycle of anxiety started. Thoughts came up such as "How am I supposed to pay for that?" "I thought I already paid" etc.. At that moment some voice of my higher self came in however, and saved the day. It seemed to shout out that "This was not the way to start the day" and I begrudgingly had to agree. It was then that I started my morning routine. From that came the motivation to produce this article that I hope you will find and use or customize to fit your own flow. I do have to say though that flow is recommended, although it is often found in personal lessons that come in different ways depending on the day and how it works.