babies (Patreon)

Hey everybody--it's 2:45am and I owe y'all a serious update. I released the album. Did the show. I'll post a link here shortly to the archived video.

What a fucking trip. That shit was begot. I've never given birth but Julia Cameron shares a pretty graphic comparison in her book The Artist's Way (everyone should try morning pages btw, it's like letting the steam out of your brain). Creating art from life, tearing so wholly from inside of myself with every ounce of love for myself I could resource was just

exhausting

illuminating

important

I have been so grateful to have the little 5-track ep in my ears. Weirdly me, reminding myself how far I've come and how just rock steady to my own path I've stayed, and how it all moves in a kind of rhythm together. It's easy to forget onesself in the mundane passage of time. A strange window into my own mind, it is. It's been a hell of a week.

So it has been a hell of a week. I did a full celtic cross tarot spread on the 29th and I will spare you the details, but for what it's worth if you follow, it began with The Tower and ended with The Star.

Since the show it's been like a slow burning existential psychedelic trip, rife with chaos and illusion and clarity. I told my dad that I feel like I'm free basing nebulas from an aluminum can. On a big ol' bender with the stars, I am. Many things are lining themselves out and I feel a profound force welling and spilling into and out of me.

So big. Like, I have resolved to just surrender to it. No pushing or pulling. No trying to control it. Just observing, presently. I think if I tried to make sense of anything right now, I would simply go insane. I wonder if this is how a Saturn return can present. Striving to not think too hard or hold on too tightly to anything, but I keep getting beamed these divine-feeling insights. I reach for somebody to thank, and then remember that I'm just here to float right now.

I want to share a thought I had today about love and all the ways we can smother it with hot or idle desperation. One of the many dissonant forces clicking into resonance.

That thought was to be grateful for the people who hold us when we are babies. We are all babies sometimes--needing desperately to be held. Some people hold us in those moments. Those are the people it feels safe to love.

I am concerned because I also think that babies reach out and find other babies to hold, both needy for embrace, but only able to nudge and smother each other in inadequacy wrought by deep unmet needs.

And some people--I'm not sure yet if I believe in bad people--but they look for babies to hold, so they can be loved by babies, not so the babies can be loved.

Babies can't give love like that. What they give is trust. And they are trusting in love. It sort of goes in circles from there. And here we are.

Love is uncomplicated. If it is not, consider it a sign that something needs to be examined. You, a baby, are screaming. What part of you needs to be held? Are you holding that baby because you love it or because you need it to love you? It's just a baby, mate.

Anyhow, thank you all so much for being along for the ride on this. Many of you have held me as a baby, in a decision to sinuously follow this metaphor through to the end, and that's just a nice thing to think about. I've got a big personal project coming up soon that I hope will shed some light on some of my more shadowed and inherited babies. Road trip toward the source, of something, for understanding. Can't wait to share what I find. I hope it's not too rife-y. Or maybe I do. It would make more sense if it were. Time will tell. I'm bringing my zoom H5, the same equipment I used to record my EP tracks, and I am planning to cut an as-I-go audio podcast about the whole endeavor. So that's kinda fun, right?

Take care of yourselves. I'll be in touch.

PS Bonus poem River Babies by Heather Warren performed by Harm of Fairbanks, AK

pss earlier link is 2:45am by elliott smith and he totally talks about being a SAD UNSATISFIABLE FUCKING BABY WHAT THE FUCK oh my god i'm going to bed