alter idem

[ Raison d'être ]

While the masses celebrate mass consumption I will go my own way.

I will go alone if needs demand, reach out my hand, pull back the veil of night.

I will discover what no other has seen, touched, smelled, perceived.

Perhaps it will be my private joy and there will be no sign to mark my passing.

Better that than to travel down endless, well documented highways to fixed points in time space. I don’t want to make a life of moving from one imagined comfort zone to the next.

I will make new musics, create new images and forms . . .
I will create celebrations through ephemeral objets d’art, homes, hospitals, parks and exquisitely simple things like children’s toy, personal jewelry and clothing.

What is one more forgotten life time? Forget me but please remember these dreams I bring to life for you.

I wish to more than clothe, feed and shelter the bodies of my
fellows, I would fashion a place to nurture the mind and soul of every
sentient creature.

Dreams that reach beyond the self gratification of the moment, to form a creative, living, vibrant, enduring architecture of community, a more perfect union.

While others rant or pontificate on the commercialized politics of the day I have the real science and labor of community building to engage my mind.

No matter what it cost me, I will create a life time of work in these few, precious moments.

I will leave to the Fates what memories of my being may be passed on or not.

If my name is forgotten then perhaps what I create will live on in the hearts of others.

I have work to do

[ Blackbird ]

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird was written by Paul McCartney, who was inspired to write this while in Scotland as a reaction to racial tensions escalating in America in the spring of 1968.

After all these years, these thoughts, feeling, words and melody continue to sound a deep and sympathetic resonance within my soul.

Thank you Sir Paul

[ Clarke's Three Laws of Prediction ]

1. When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.

2. The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.

3. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

~ Origin of Clarke’s Three Laws

[First Time]

We’re both looking for something
That we’ve been afraid to find
It’s easier to be broken
It’s easier to hide

Looking at you, holding my breath,
For once in my life, I’m scared to death,
I’m taking a chance, letting you inside.

I’m feeling alive all over again,
As deep as the sky that’s under my skin
Like being in love, she says
For the first time
Well maybe I’m wrong,
But I’m feeling right where I belong
With you tonight
Like being in love
Can feel for the first time

The world that I see inside you
Waiting to come to life
Waking me up to dreaming
Reality in your eyes

Looking at you,
Holding my breath,
For once in my life
I’m scared to death,
I’m taking a chance,
Letting you inside.

I’m feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that’s under my skin
Like being in love, she said, for the first time
Maybe I’m wrong, I’m feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love to feel for the first time

We’re crashing
Into the unknown
We’re lost in this
But it feels like home

I’m feeling alive all over again
As deep as the sky that’s under my skin
Like being in love, she said, for the first time
Maybe I’m wrong, I’m feeling right
Where I belong with you tonight
Like being in love can feel for the first time

Like being in love she said for the first time
Like being in love can feel for the first time

~ Lighthouse

This is another tune that feels like me at the moment and captures something that I didn’t find the words express.

[ Unwritten ]

I am unwritten, can’t read my mind, I’m undefined
I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We’ve been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can’t live that way

I will feel the rain on my skin
No one else can feel it for me
Only I can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on my lips
To be drenched in words unspoken

Live my life with arms wide open
Today is where my book begins

The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten

carpe diem!

~ Natasha Bedingfield

[ Shape Of My Heart ]

He deals the cards as a meditation
And those he plays never suspect
He doesnt play for the money he wins
He doesnt play for the respect
He deals the cards to find the answer
The sacred geometry of chance
The hidden law of probable outcome
The numbers lead a dance

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But thats not the shape of my heart

He may play the jack of diamonds
He may lay the queen of spades
He may conceal a king in his hand
While the memory of it fades

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But thats not the shape of my heart
Thats not the shape, the shape of my heart

And if I told you that I loved you
Youd maybe think theres something wrong
Im not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one
Those who speak know nothing
And find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too many places
And those who smile are lost

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But thats not the shape of my heart
Thats not the shape of my heart

[ Assimilation ]

Race and ethnicity matter.

Embedded within every culture are unique attributes, survival skills.

As each culture is assimilated into the Western Military/Industrial Collective we as a species lose those attributes the collective doesn’t assign value or at the moment perceives as a threat to it’s corporate integrity, a challenge to it’s dominion.

Within the collective’s own contemporary mythology we can hear resonance or it’s true nature . . .

“Resistance is futile. We wish to improve ourselves. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service ours. You will be assimilated.”
~ The Borg

I have heard some version of that sentiment from White America since the day I was called into existance.

I will not be domesticated.

Now and for eternity, I am Auriel and I will be free.

[ Torn out and carried away ]

. . . every day here is marking time, and because it hurts me every time I see you and he growing closer and you and me growing more distant, even though I know it’s exactly as it should be, so when I decided to go, I thought that going quickly was better, and I was right; you know I’m right.

I never thought you’d hate me for it.

I don’t hate you, I love you, you’re part of myself, you’re my heart and when you go it’s my heart torn out and carried away.

~ Orson Scott Card

[ Bullshit ]

America’s leading industry, America’s most profitable business, is still the manufacture, packaging, distribution, and marketing of bullshit.

High-Quality, Grade-A, Prime-Cut, Pure, American Bullshit!

The sad part is, most people seem indoctrinated to believe that bullshit only comes from certain places, certain sources; advertising, politics, salesmen?

Not true.

Bullshit is everywhere.

Bullshit is rampant.

Parents are full of shit.

Teachers are full of shit.

Clergymen are full of shit.

. . . and law enforcement people are full of shit.

This entire country is completely full of shit and always has been from the Declaration of Independence to the Constitution, to the Star Spangled Banner. It’s really nothing more than one big steaming pile of red-white-and-blue all American bullshit. Because, think of how we started. Think of that . . .

This country was founded by a group of slave owners who told us “All men are created equal.”

Oh, yeah, all men.

Except for Indians and Niggers and Women, right?

I always like to use that authentic American language.

This was a small group of un-elected white-male land-holding slave owners who also suggested their class be the only one allowed to vote.

Now that is what’s known as being stunningly full of shit.

~ George Carlin

[ Faith or Reason ]

I suggest that systems of belief based on faith instead of reason must not be given any greater or lesser due deference any other form of artistic expression.

Auriel