Five Senses

Today, these are some the things my five senses sensed throughout the day:

- a plume of Triloka Sacral Shakra incense-- good for inspiring, soothing and creating a sensual environment.
-The early autumnal night's air inhaling the smoke from a wood fire somewhere in the distance
-The therapeutic aroma of having coffee brewing in the mid afternoon
-Bed head hair manipulator and it's alluring signature coconut fragrance. 

- my mom tinkling the ivories of the baby Grand piano upstairs.
- shards of random conversations from the other diners at the sushi restaurant, piecing themselves together into a random loquacious mosaic.
-The loud and dubious sound of a guitar string breaking
-rain drops tapping on the window pane

- the lushness of raw fish upon the tounge and teeth.
- Clean linnen on my bed.
- The dynamic between wearing a wool sweater and the crisp, premature autumnal night air.
- Desire and longing

- the peach and vanilla flavors from the dinner's Chardonnay
- ginger and carrot dressing paired with the slightly salted Edamame.
- The first sip of coffee upon waking in the morning

-The pitch darkness blinding the eyes at 7:30 PM.
- A mother and her daughter having a "girl's night out"
- The LCD light flashing red on my phone
- Street lights welcoming you on their lonely avenue.


Wine Wednesday: Sterling 2008 Vitner's Collection Chardonnay

Vitner's Collection Chardonnay.

It's the first white wine I have reviewed in this blog. Another delicious Sonoma wine. I put my lips to the crystal glass and the golden liquid licked my lips and allowed its tropical perfume to kiss me. I smiled. I had some grilled Cod in front of me, and its tropical bouquet of pineapple, guava, and even a hint of summer peaches paired beautifully. Toasty oak and vanilla also titillated the palate. It pairs great with grilled seafood, pork and chicken.


The Desire, a Conspiring Universe and the Sloth.

"When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."- Paolo Coelho.

So it's true. When you decide with your heart and soul that you want something, not just "I would like this/ I would like that" but truly yearning, excruciatingly so, the Universe begins to feel your torturous desire. The Universe works in your favor; it formulates on your side, pushing Chance out the door and introducing Promise to machinate your success and fulfill your seemingly unquenchable thirst. How much do you need to want something for the Universe to separate you from the slovenly? Imagine yourself in a vast desert where all that meets the eye is the insurmountable and unfathomable amount of blistering grains of sand liquefying themselves and becoming one with soles of your naked feet. Imagine further your cracked, sun licked lips and your dessicated tongue. True desire is the need for a glass of water in this situation. It's what you need. You will do anything in your power to obtain this glass of water so the Universe conspires with you; in this situation being lazy will not get you what you want, just as in life.

However, it would be unthinkable to assume the Universe would align things in your favor without you putting in the work as well. This is where the line is drawn between those who obtain the extra Universal push verses those who don't. The slovenly, those who place their cards in the hands of Fate without so much leaving their homes, should not see their desires fulfilled. There are some people like that. Those who sit back and wait for everything to happen. However, then their are others where it's not so much indolence but more so the paralyzing fear of achieving what it is they really want. They may want something so strongly, such as that glass of water in the desert, but they're afraid to make the initial move to set the Universe in motion. They're afraid of taking chances, they postpone decision making, their best friend takes form in the excuses they make to postpone their future. They're afraid that the door they want to open now could inevitably lead to other doors in which behind some of those doors suffering could possibly loom. But the heart should know that the anxiety of suffering is far more intense than the actual suffering and should by no means keep one from achieving their wish. It takes feeling to understand what it is you want, but it takes courage to set the Universe in positive motion.


Wine Wednesday: 2003 Deerfield Red Rex

Deerfield Red Rex

From the Sonoma county of California, this 2003 Deerfield blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Sangiovese, and Malbec leaves the mouth with nothing more to desire than this passionate briary wine. This wine blend creates for a complex and multifaceted bouquet with great body and long fluid legs. Overflowing with dark blackberry fruits and scents of cedar, the wine lingers on your tounge with its peppery finish.


He...he...hello...Do I know you from somewhere?

I do not write this blog in away to inject you with a hypodermic needle of sorts loaded with a potent dogmatic formula that I wish to inject my audience with. Not in the slightest. Simply stated, I read a book and I found it interesting. It didn't indoctrinate me, but I found it interesting enough to give it a few minutes of my "pondering" time while driving in the car.
That's all.

One of the many books I have read recently (and I honestly forget which book it was, I have read many) suggested that perhaps we has individuals have been around this world before. That we have seen, lived and been apart of other lives before, and that within these lives we have picked up the skills, knowledge, and experience that we currently know and possess.

This plausible dogma of being a soul from a previous life made me think a little further. The first question it made me ponder was, "Have I have met someone before that from first sight, from first handshake, from first motion of greeting I was able to act my complete self"? I answered, with certainty and haste, "Yes". I'm not just describing how one acts with one's friends, I mean how one acts with one's mother. I don't know about you, but at times I can be a somewhat reserved person. Not always. But I can sometimes throw up a barrier in between myself and an unfamiliar person. If I have to you, don't be offended, even some of my closest friends haven't seen me in my liveliest form. Mothers know and see all, which is why I suggested that you are at your most normal state in the company of your mother. They are the greatest eye witness to your behavior and Self.

It's an interesting proposition to think that perhaps if we've been around this world for lives beyond just this one, perhaps we've also fallen in love with the same person we are in love with now before in a previous life. Perhaps each life we live we fall in love with the same person. In each life that we become apart of again and again we would most presumably take on a new form, a new body, a new person. Perhaps the reason why many people say, in regards to finding love, "if it's meant to be, it's meant to be". Perhaps they say that because we already know our lover. Is it "meant to be, cause it's meant to be" because if we're lucky it's just a matter of time until we find them again. Is it possible that we go through years of our lives 15? 20? 30 years before we "reunite" with that lost soul? Is it possible that we get into year long relationships with others because we think that we have reunited with our true love and thus love them, until years down the road we have realized that, "nope, that isn't her" or "nope that isn't him"? Is this possible? Maybe. Is it false? Maybe. Is it true. Maybe. I'm not saying one way or another. Remember, I used to want to be a chef. This is just food for thought. Think about it.


Wine Wednesday: 2007 Altovinum Evodia Garnacha.

2007 Altovinum Evodia Garnacha
Calatayud, Spain.

100% Garnacha (Grenache) from the Northern Spanish village of Atea.

With a beautiful inky-purple hue, this red wine is bold in aroma. Its bouquet is bursting smoothly with ripe berries, baking spices and a peppery finish. I am no professional wine connoisseur, but I'm pretty sure I even discovered a hint of peach to round out it's flavor.

I have found, and continue to find that Spanish wines in the $10-12 price range prove to be of remarkable value. This is not a wine to miss. With my amateur wine consumption, I try to always purchase a different wine, never sampling the same wine twice to allow for the greatest expansion of my palate. With this wine in particular, I may have to make an exception.


The Things You (We) Do.

What motivates each one of us to do all the things we do? Why do we wake in the morning? Why are we living the lives we live? Why do we dress in the clothes we chose to cover our skin with? Why do we do a daily exercise regiment, diet regiment, yoga regiment--is it because this is what society urges us to do? Is it because we feel our Self urging us to do it soley for ourselves? Or, is it because we like the way it secretly makes our Self feel based on how we are fantastically imagining ourselves through the eyes of how view us and our actions.

Why when people get new phone we insist on announcing to the world through social networking sites that "our new iPhone needs numbers", instead of merely saying, "my phone broke, got another one, may I have your number?" It's our ego's thirst for worth. It's this ancillary information, such as the labeling of our "new iPhone" that makes it seem that many of us are not living for ourselves but rather through the eyes of another. Doing flamboyant things to attract attention merely because the life we live isn't enough for ourselves. Those of us who hunger for attention through ostentatious demonstrations sacrifice their true being in hopes of gaining a feigned sense of self value. To gain self value, self worth, self respect is to live in the shoes of yourself, to see through your eyes rather than imagining your reflection in the eyes of another. When we live life for the sole purpose of the Self, that is when we start living.


The Comfort, The Resistance and The Desire

Anything that provides us an imperfect comfort is a mere means to distract and deceive us from achieving what it is we really want for ourselves. We are disillusioned in believing that what we have currently is sufficient enough. Brainwashed. One may pick a particular comfortable career out of fear that the true career he wants he isn't worthy of, the career isn't attainable, or too much effort is required to make such a change. He is more comfortable with a more assured, fundamental path. Comfort does not mean joy. Comfort could be a word which we use to make ourselves feel content. 

Person one: "Are you Happy?" 

Person two: "...I'm comfortable." 

Comfort thrives on simplicity. Simplicity is defaced in the hands of a challenge—anything that has a prospect of impeding us. Should you stay or should you leave? Comfort would have you stay as leaving requires stepping out of your gate of placidity. I would assume that most of us truly want to live that "perfect" life. So, wouldn’t it make sense then that the desire for such perfection would push us along out of a discontented comfort allowing us to attain the closest proximity of joy and happiness--perfection? One would think. However, there is a force called Resistance which sinuously wraps itself and aims to constrict us and crush our fantasy of such a lively perfection. Resistance is the counterforce of ambition and drive. While ambition and drive are positive in their power, Resistance acts upon negativity. Like a force of gravity, it brings us down. Like sprinting against the wind, it pushes back; only the strong persist and defeat this opposition to reach the life that’s waiting for them on the other side of such an obstruction.  We all have the power for happiness. We just have to fight for it.

Imperfection is Perfect in the Arts

We wake. We live. We sleep. A circuitous motion. Day after day. Four seasons change and if we're lucky, we still wake, live and sleep. Within these moments of consciousness there is a multitude of people who use their livelihood to seek perfection. What is perfection? The absence of a mistake obviously. But what is a mistake? A flawed form. In many forms of art what some might deem a mistake by one, is often written off in a lauditory critique of  "soulfulness"; “brilliance”. In singing? A note gone slightly flat--that's blues, baby. A sung note cracking at the seams from ravaged vocal cords--soul. A grisly and gravelly timbre--vast in soulfulness, representing the scars carved into one’s Self. In painting different brush strokes could be seen as less then perfect. Take the Van Goghian characteristic of impressionistic strokes for example. While some disapprove of such flawed and nonrepresentational figures--many see it as beautifully abstract, soulful.  Imperfection is perfection in the arts. 


Sinking or Rising: Tales of a Submarine.

In my dream I was traveling in a lithe, agile, and stealthy built submarine. The color of this vehicle was unknown and thus unimportant. It was spacious yet claustrophobic, darkly lit, yet the interior was relatively plush and thus hospitable. I was traveling with two or three other individuals; there faces were blurred, unrecognizable and thus seemingly irrelevant. I recall having a dislike for the running water that was provided inside this sea vessel—it was rather bitter, almost lemony but far more acidic and crude to the human palate…at least to mine.  In fact I remember when we surfaced our vessel in a port I would buy mass amounts of water bottles and store them in my pockets to assure myself that I wouldn’t have to imbibe this alkaline liquid (perhaps this was based on watching Lost only a few hours before tucking myself into bed).

 To my analysis, the importance of this dream was not the magnitude of the details. So what is such a dream doing creeping inside the depths of my sub-conscious. Perhaps trying to analyze the depths, angles and shades of a dream is an inane and inconsequential objective. Or perhaps it can give one a further sense of their multifaceted mind. So I dug through some dream archives online to discover a relevant breakdown. I took those breakdowns and added in my own interpretations to maximize on an accurate analysis. Perhaps my desire to write this and do the research is merely me resisting doing my REAL work—but that will be a discussion at a later time.

A submarine as we know is a powerful sea vessel which propels itself through large, deep bodies of water—in the dream world, large bodies of water such as oceans, lakes, and seas are often noted to express that of the unconscious or the unknown. The submarine could be symbolizing the way I am navigating or chartering territory through the unknown (life)—whether this is relating to my music, creativity, love, or a real broad sense of the direction of my future. A particular analyis suggested that the strength and aggressiveness of the propelling vessel could suggest that I am feeling “strong and prepared to aggressively deal with concerns and emotional issues” that are to be dealt with within my life. The future is unknown much like the symbol of water suggests. We aren’t clairvoyant and each step we take forward on our journey we must take with care—keep in mind that taking steps impetuously does not mean that you aren’t carefully taking these steps. In the past blog it merely means that you are listening to your heart over mind. I will say, right before I woke up, the submarine was not sinking. We were making our way for higher ground. We were rising.


What we need is impetuousness.

I was fucking lonely. I dropped myself in this river of uncertainty, and I wasn't sure if the current was taking me in a down stream plummet or if it was dragging me head first, upstream, against the boulders along the rocky, sinuous bank of the mistake I thought I had made. "You know exactly why you are doing this, get yourself together man", I would tell myself on a nightly basis. 

"Why am I not happy," a question which percolated through my head and defeated any positivity from a self inflicted pep-talk. 

I looked around at the brand new apartment I was residing in. Van Gogh prints loitered on the porcelain hued stucco walls--the one print which still burns in my mind, perhaps because it is still in my room at the moment is the one entitled "The Mulberry Tree". It's gnarled, contorted branches flaming with the most disturbed reds, oranges and yellows seemed to encapsulate my confusion which had taken my head as it's abode, simply because it was weak and vulnerable those few weeks.  The blue sofa mocked my state of mind while the round kitchen table capable of seating four would only seat myself for the time being. The whole town was new to me, but the emptiness...the solitude was new in particular. 

Dinner hour was the most difficult. The darkness echoed across the walls and hardwood floors ripping through the window pains like a cross wind shattering my solace. Every sound from the adjacent apartments was intensified as my kitchen table of four was only sitting one and there was no one else  in the room to help absorb these sounds let alone create noise of our own. I would over salt the chicken. Perhaps my mind was occupied with my mistake. Perhaps I didn't care what the food tasted like, I was merely eating as I knew my mom would check up on me and I could barely muster up a counterfeit smile let alone tell her a lie. 

"Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. What did you do. Mistake. Why. Mistake."
"I am miserable."

I left my life behind. The life I had spent two years creating and developing. I left everyone behind. Selfishness? Over zealousness? It was music which inevitably told me to make the move from Oxford, Ohio--Miami University to Charlottesville, Virgina--University of Virginia. I was sure that directing myself to Charlottesville, a town which thrives on originality,  would be the appropriate move in order to allow my music to flourish to it's maximum potential. I was drowning in the conformity of Oxford, OH, I needed to leave. I, being the driven one, did so. 

Two weeks into my University of Virginia experience I could take no more. My normal cheerful, hopeful, giddy, self had deconstructed itself all guided by the hand of  confusion and realization as to what I had done. I left behind my friends. I left behind the name for myself I had created at Miami. I left behind my solid GPA. I left behind my assurance and comfort. 

I made the decision to transfer schools completely illogically. I was completely motivated by the hope that my music would be appreciated in this art based town of Charlottesville that I never accounted for the serious lifestyle change. Entering as a Junior in a brand new school is no easy feat. While you're trying to learn your way around the school, understanding the way your professors work, you're also helplessly looking to weasel your way into a welcoming social scene to ease yourself with some sense of normalcy. I didn't account for any of this. When the question was brought up to me, my ambition must have made me somewhat delusional  and I would assure myself everything would work itself out. 

Had I not transferred, I would not have left college to begin with and I would have continued on with my college life. The  life that I currently have would be non existent. I would have passed on all the amazing knowledge and wisdom I have gained by meeting all the wonderful people down the current path I am travelling. I would have missed on the many friendships and encounters along this path. I wouldn't have had any of these musical experiences I currently have. My life would be drastically different. I saw both paths. I never saw where they lead, nor do I still as at any moment there could be another fork I decide to walk upon, but I saw the mouth of each journey I had the option of taking. We often tell ourselves that everything we do must be sensible. We tell ourselves that everything we do must follow our blueprint somewhere along life we so crudely sketched. Perhaps our problem is if we get too caught up with the practicality of our life's events that we lose sense of what we want. What really makes us happy. What is best for our heart rather than our manipulative mind. I was unpractical. I was impetuous. But I'm starting to think that rashness is the way to go if you want to follow your heart. It's your instinct. It's what you want. It's what happens before your mind has a minute to voice up it's anxious opinion. We become the pets' of our minds. We become teathered when we become obedient to our minds and not our hearts. The remedy?  All we need is just a little impetuousness. 

The Mulberry Tree -- Vincent Van Gogh.