There’s a deep question that I was struggling with the past years, up until quite recently.
Can we fly, are we free? Or is this just free fall?
Are we lying to ourselves that there’s a choice at all?
Here’s the lyrics to the song ‘Shed Her Skin (Fly)’, scroll to the end for the explanation.
[starts with some banter about the main character of the song, how she disappeared or left or dropped off the face of the earth.]
well, i heard she stood standing on the edge of the world
arms outstetched, deep breath, toes curled
‘round the edge she said to herself: it’s now or never, i cannot say no
so closed her eyes shut tight, took a step and let go
in the midst of the world
in spite of everything she heard
she thought she found a way
to fight the break of day
she gathered all the stars she could
thinking that their starlight would
be strong enough
to break the stuff that she she was made of
I was so tired last night. Not ‘tired’ in the sense that I am weary and needed rest. I was tired of dealing with idiots and wasting my time. I stayed in the office until quarter after eight … almost a twelve hour day (unpaid overtime of course) because I had a call set up with a partner in California. My patience was really pushed to the extreme… she didn’t have many answers, couldn’t get to the point straight away – I don’t need another mediocre friend to chit-chat with so cut it and let’s talk business. I now understand what my friend R means when she said she had to learn a lot of ‘sugar-coated tactics’ when she moved from NYC to LA. Sheesh. Makes me appreciate my contact in London so much more when we can separate the ‘how are you’ emails from the the business-related ones. We have great chats, he and I, but only when we have a spare 5 minutes to talk about music therapy. Otherwise, it’s all about answers and negotiation and scheming up ways to fit more of my clients onto his sites…. wish he was in charge of the company’s entire portfolio, he’s an absolute pleasure to work with!
Anyways, I waste too much time whinging. I crept back up to my nest on the top floor and wanted nothing but a glass of dry, almost bitter red wine and the comforting presence of the Catholic church towers looming over my rooftop terrace. But instead I went pee, the phone rang while I was urinating (yeah, sorry if the truth shocks you but that’s pretty much the only time I bother to check for messages because I’m busy enjoying life and creating things and my phone is always on silent mode anyways) and then I had a short conversation whilst washing the dishes.
Another intermediary contacted me. Another human who is very in touch with nature. Another one of those ‘aaaah!’ moments when things fall into place exactly as the should. Like when a songwriter sings something and I think ‘Oh! I couldn’t have said that better myself’ … haha, reminds me of the time I told R ‘yes, sing exactly those harmonies!’ and she looks at me. ‘um, I wasn’t singing.’ Haha. Ooops. So if I hear voices in my head that means I’m mentally deranged, but if I hear music then that’s a (socially) acceptable sign of genius? I don’t understand. Continue reading
So I was at the flea market in Friedrichshain (one of my favourite districts) with a couple travellers on Sunday. We were having lovely chats (don’t we all seek something when we travel?) and being the bird that I am of course I’m distracted by all these cute little shiny things. I bought two bracelets: one tree of life for the left hand and one sparrow for the right. the translation is basically to absorb and channel grounding, alchemical transformation that only Mother Earth can perform and to act / take action quickly like the sparrow – but of course with the greatest of ease and deepest of peace…. because who could be angry at a beautiful singing bird?
Anyways, I can never pass up a stand full of books for one Euro. I admit it, I’m a helpless junkie. Sometimes I can say no to cake or wine – I don’t utterly lack willpower – but oh man. Those €1 books.
One catches my eye as I’m chatting with friends and enjoying live music and I buy it without even looking at its details or synopsis. The singing butcher? Sounds interesting (no pun, really). My friends go off exploring on their own in Neue Heimat while I chill out in the corner with a Pilsner and open the book. The first few pages hit me so powerfully! The author really captured the wisdom and inner struggles and the vulnerability behind strength and — wow.
But I thought maybe I was just having an enlightened Sunday since my meditation and contemplation on Friday and Saturday evening were really powerful.
Nope. Continue reading
Caught in the act is the EN translation.
It smells awful but looks quite pleasing :)
I don’t do visual art but the musical kind! The world certainly needs more beauty in visual or musical form. Please stay tuned for my shows with a couple awesome gals !
Mmmm music will heal the world! :)
Summertime: a yoga class for your voice.
Elaine – splended job! This is my favourite song, or at least one of my favourites, and I deeply enjoy how intensely you read into the areas for play / interpretation / ‘yoga stretching’. Yoga is actually a practice of the breath. Many do asanum (or ‘asanas’ as we say in the West) becuase one cannot understand the breath if the body is full of tension. How can we begin to move the mountain when we are still tied to our own cement shoes?
That’s why I’m getting more into country / bluegrass music actually… I find the intentional, well…. off-key singing of certain nasally vowels creates a beautiful dichotomy for when the throat does open fully to sing, releasing a vibrato that corresponds directly to the mood, to the flow and pressure of air being released.
And THAT is what makes some of Ella’s notes so powerful – it’s not the pitch, it’s not the decibel – it’s her pure, steadfast intention being held in a very soft note, stretching it to its limit like a cat in the sun on a very lazy day and that vibrato is just ringing forth so tightly….
Oh Ella. What a master, what a goddess!