Thursday, July 31, 2008

Improvisation


Once I blogged about my first vocal coach here in Madrid, and Khrysso promptly commented on the entry:

"Hope you love it!! (And that you don't get your improvisational abilities trained out of you, but I think you're old enough for that not to happen.)"

In my session last night with my current, heaven-sent coach, I had a great insight on how much of what many previous (bad) coaches tagged as "tone-deafness", including the Cuban girl I was blogging about who wound up ditching me because of that, were actually the inability to recognise what is, what isn't and where (not) to use Improvisation.

For some unknown reason, I have that stuff that made Jazz the most respected of non-European musical traditions running deep in my blood. I don't remember listening too much to Jazz when I was young, or even in the past few years. I also didn't become so enthusiasted about Seán-Nós or other Celtic improvised singings until very late in my teens, but now when I start a lied by Mozart, I ornament, and change measure, intervals and whole musical phrases, always faithful and committed to the harmony, lyrics and chords. An actually tone-deaf person would never be able to do that.

I'm apparently good in Improvisation. So good it's been making me sound horrible sometimes.

Question now is: Khrysso how come you knew I had "improvisational skills" before you ever heard me?

Monday, July 28, 2008

The Mage I Am

Your result for What Mage Are You?...


Bard

"Your fates whisper softly; we sing it boldly."




Bards delight in novelty. They are optimistic, enthusiastic, and vivacious, craving expressions of strong emotion. With a dramatic flair, they share their experiences with others, hoping to reveal some universal truth or win others over in support of a cause. Attuned to possibilities, Bards scan their environment, probing the emotions, needs, and motivations of others. This sensitivity sometimes conflicts with their intense drive for personal authenticity. Spontaneous and personable, they attract others to their company.



They are initiators of change, keenly perceptive of possibilities. They energize and stimulate others through their contagious enthusiasm. They prefer the start-up phase of a project or relationship, and are tireless in the pursuit of new-found interests. Bards are able to anticipate the needs of others and to offer them needed help and appreciation. They bring zest, joy, liveliness, and fun to all aspects of their lives. They are at their best in situations that are fluid and changing, and that allow them to express their creativity and use their charisma. They tend to idealize people, and can be disappointed when reality fails to fulfill their expectations. They are easily frustrated if a project requires a great deal of follow-up or attention to detail.



Bards seek continuity through harmonious relationships and collective values. They excel at picking up on the tone of a situation and acting accordingly, adding warmth to a cool setting or turning sour into sweet. They naturally seek to know what people do well, what they enjoy, and where and how they work. They seem to have an infinite number of acquaintances from all walks of life and are always on the lookout for people in need and those who can help out. Bards weave and strengthen the collective fabric of social conventions and interactions. Inclusiveness is important and they are particularly sensitive to those who are excluded.


They are masters of transforming reality to story – and vice versa. Their voice and bodies developed over time to contain magic. When they sing or dance, when they move amongst others people grow calm and many gather to listen. Foes will lose everything, even their hearts. Bards are walking enchantments, masters of illusion and charm. One might never know their losing the battle until they wake up - that is if they do. Most are diviners, capable of telling the stories to come.



Take What Mage Are You? at HelloQuizzy

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Tuning Fork



I don't know if everybody has a regular check-in with grounding and vibe-shifting tools and tricks, but I know everybody should. For me, Reiki, Triple Soul work, Morning Pages and incubatory sleep do the trick pretty well, but absolutely nothing in this world works better than a powerful story. And ever since I began taking Wonderstock in my blog, a few golden oldies have become very evident to me.

Today I went to Filmoteca Española with my friends from the therapy group to watch "Brokeback Mountain" for the fourth time in the movie theatre. Old readers of my blog have seen how this same story, whether the original tale written by Annie Proulx for The New Yorker, or Ang Lee's tremendously powerful rendition of the tale for the silver screen, changed gears, grounds and grasps in central directives of my life, but it is just amazing how the same story can disclose new vistas and open up greater levels of understanding everytime it is well told to you.

This time what woke me up wasn't the just-say-yes-and-leap part that broke my heart three years ago when I was on the verge of leaving my whole life behind and stepping into the unknown. This afternoon, I became self-conscious in relating to a significant other, how to set priorities for two, and how to just treasure the simple pleasure of having a good man (or a good toy) to spend quality time with. To create a solid bond with that which you long for. How many times in the past twenty years have you spent quality time with someone or something that is important to you? I'm thrilled to have it shoven in my face in a painful way. Privilege.

Easier said than done, I know, when you have fear all around you, when you are used to it, so used to fear that you attract more fearful people and build a fortress of fear around, so that love cannot cross the icy walls and break you free. A person like Ennis is haunted by a programming that won't let him live. So do we. It's our mission and quest to break that chain.

Like a fiddle or a choir director, people need tuning forks to make sure they keep playing on the desired pitch. Throughout my adult life, "Brokeback Mountain" has been the a constant, reliable one.

Gods save Annie Proulx, Ang Lee and the hot Ledger/Gyllenhaal couple.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Longing


Because I'm from a generation that still had role models among mainstream musicians, and because the tickets to Loreena McKennitt's concert here in Madrid were so fucking expensive, I decided I'd just crash into Conde Duque and seize the opportunity to see one of my favourites live at least for once in my life.

Plans A (hiding in the library's loo), B (overhearing the concert from another part of the facility, behind the stage and open to anybody) and C (a glamour) didn't work, so I just stood in the gate, listening to the songs and looking at part of the audience. At some point, a short, grumpy guy elbowed me to the side and left, followed by his partner. Because she and I probably have something in common, something clicked and her green eyes shone when she handed me her own ticket. "¿Quieres?" I can't remember if I looked at her again after looking at the ticket, although I do remember saying "muchas gracias" twice, and I skipped all the way to the standing up zone, right on time to catch the beginning of the last song on the set list, "Amhrán Duit", which is Gaelic for "Your Song"--but in that instance it was really MINE.

Then the set list was over. When she and her nine-piece orchestra came back for the bis, they did an instrumental theme that's probably inedit, because I've never heard it anywhere in my whole Loreena McKennitt collection. And after that, she performed her "Penelope's Song", a supernatural and very human hymn to all the feelings of longing, love and Faith against all odds the wife of Ulysses nurtured for twenty years, waiting and keeping suitors at bay. Impossible to not feel honoured with that song, given that I had longed to meet McKennitt for many long years myself.

Fact is, unless you're a full-time Buddha, permanently in your Samadhi, or you're a miserable, repressed loser, you probably have longed for something, somebody or some place in your life, so Penelope is everything that Humanity means in its most faithful and honest state. Nurture your longing, no matter how far it seems to be. The longing itself is another name for Life.

So, for the homebound lover and her far-sailing beloved, for the Canadian bard and her Greek Muse, for the starry-eyed fan and his stellar idol, here's the song, dedicated to all the Stars that shine between you and the generous strangers, you and the object of your longing, and you my reader and me, in these mysterious, invisible Crossroads that ride the Black virgin fields of all spaces:





Image: Penelope said no to many suitors, and remained faithful to Ulysses throughout his long absence of twenty years. Weave on your visions, and never let go.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

The Fall


(Inspired by Dean's Awen-inspired blog entry last night).

Before It All (refered to as BIA from now on), you had nothing but your Bird Spirit, which is your Godself, your personal Kami/Loa. It had all powers and all stories to tell. But then, since BIA had no listening ears, Tribe.net blogs or physical sex, your Bird Spirit was bored to Death (even though BIA is another name for Eternal Life), and It decided it was time to begin a long, winding process called The Fall.

Your Bird Spirit has the capacity and the nature of attracting to Itself all it wants and needs, so it attached to Itself a couple of malleable, minor spirits in order to extend and live in what It meant to be a world of Creativity and self-expression. If It intended to go physical, the natural thing would be the ability to communicate, impress, form and be formed by circumstances. Shifting between active and passive. Like gay anal sex, or like Tango.

Your Bird Spirit contained (and still does) a seed of the tree you were supposed to grow up to be, your ultimate creation. But after the Fall, other Fallen people who fell before you did also had "seeds" of trees they thought you were supposed to be. You're clever, you can guess the two seeds don't match, and because other people were bigger than your physical body, had more cunning and expertise in the physical matters, and held positions, authorities, titles and wands of several colours, they began weaving patterns in your minor souls through physical abuse, repetition and lies they might actually have believed were true themselves. And suddenly, you forgot it all about BIA as the Fall moved on to the next stage.

All kinds of wicked vows and locks were woven in your minor spirits, including a giant barrier between what you now were calling yourself and your Bird Spirit. And your original/ORIGIN-all seed. And everything BIA. You forgot the reason why of the whole thing, and dressed up, made up a name and a cool pose, sacrificed your daily freewill, made lots of money to buy many things you don't really want, pretended you were on your way, and destroyed every possible thing you met along the way, whatever the way you were going was. And of course, forced other Fallen newbies a seed to a tree you planned for them. Nevermind what they had in mind. Or in Spirit.

But the Bird Spirit will always be there. It was BIA and will be when you wake up from the nightmare. Hang in there.

Monday, July 07, 2008

One Word


You can only type ONE Word!
Not as easy as you might think. Now change the answers to suit you and pass it on. It's really hard to only use one word answers. You can only type one word!

1. Where is your cell phone?
Table.

2. Where is your significant other?
Marbella.

3. Your hair?
Head.

4. Your mother?
Brazil.

5. Your father?
Brazil.

6. Your favorite thing?
Close.

7. Your dream last night?
Interesting.

8. Your dream/goal?
Elusive.

9. The room you're in?
Cool.

10. Your hobby?
Superheroes.

11. Your fear?
Loneliness.

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years?
World-roaming.

13. Where were you last night?
Everywhere. :D

14. What you're not?
Stable.

16. One of your wish list items?
Book.

17. Where you grew up?
Shithole.

18. The last thing you did?
Websurfing.

19. What are you wearing?
Underpants.

21. Your TV?
Off.

21. Your pet?
Marbella.

22. Your computer?
Here.

24. Your mood?
Bored.

25. Missing someone?
Boyfriend.

26. Your car?
None.

27. Something you're not wearing?
Socks.

28. Favorite store?
Basurama. :D

29. Your summer?
Hot.

30. Love someone?
Yes!

31. Your favorite color?
White.

32. When is the last time you laughed?
Now. :D

33. Last time you cried?
June.

34. Who will reply to this?
Aster.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

Life in the Fun House


Cocks inclined to the left, so common in our civilised culture, don't exist in tribal societies where men go naked or at least are allowed baggy pants during adolescence. Even though my old, useless people unsuccessfully raised me to be straight, I turned out not just bent, but mainly crooked, too. After talking to many parents, kids, Peter Pans, evil stepmothers and Faery Godparents, I've come to realise that although a kid needs many things, above everything the greatest blessing one can have when growing up is trusting oneself. And you cannot trust yourself without trusting in your feelings.

Like with most adults born after the Counterculture and before artificial baby-making, there are many very natural things I've been led to believe I don't have the right to. For instance, finding people, situations and places boring.

"They're the majority, you need them, they don't need you."

- Come again, dad??

"Only you are unsatisfied. Clearly, there's nothing wrong with them..."

- What does that exactly mean, doc?

"Your arrogance is tremendous. You think the world is an extension of you, not you part of a larger whole."

- Sorry, mom. I didn't mean to.

Fact is, some people sometimes might be boring. But just verbalizing it to myself is still very hard, and when something just feels wrong, my very well-trained mind just channels all the insatisfaction, dullness and annoyance back at me, and suddenly I'm Mr. Boredom because all these people at the table have been daydreaming about a safari or complaining about my vegetarianism for the past three hours.

And because I haven't been doing my meditation sessions regularly, and because I'm chemically addicted to the hormones and enzymes associated with the pattern, the agony haunts me until it's time to renew it with another name-calling backfire stroke.

After joining the gay men therapy group last month, I've been stirring tremendous shit, the kind of emotional junk you learn to supress when living as a couple. I look at my surroundings, feel sick and immediately and without any reasoning or sound judgement from my own part, I just invert the game so that I can play safe with other kids, and apply the label-who-cannot-be-named to myself. Suddenly I feel like I'm a boring person.
Gods, I know I've been whining A LOT here, and I do know how to call MYSELF boring, but because this is my blog, I'm entitled the right to use it to organize my ideas, sort through my feelings, open up for insight and increase the chances of breaking mental/emotional ground.

I need Iron Pentacle work.