Primarily a writing exercise, this dream journal-inspired blog is a quiet introspective sojourn into the process that we traverse in going from private dream to public art. I see our dreaming as an internalized mythmaking. As I philosophize and expressively exhibit dreams, both private and public, I encourage and delight in creative language as a way to practice experiential metaphors through a “public dreaming." Writing Theory: Creative Dream Fiction

Saturday, 30 June 2012

The Rare Beauty & Genuine Inspiration of Hawaii

Shaman by Arman Manookian
"His was the dream of creating in color a great symphony of beauty." writes Arthur Greene, in a eulogy for Arman Manookian, who committed suicide at 31, renowned as the Van Gogh of Hawaiian art

Another contemporary artist from Calgary, inspired by Hawaii, Shane Haltman, featured my comment on a recent blog post where he writes, "I can honestly say that my dreams brought me to this place and thanks to some serendipity and a beautiful community made up of some loving individuals, I am here living my dream...The current is strong here, the energy always present, and this makes for an artists dream." from Engraved memories
The narrow birch forest is consuming at dusk. Spindly cerebral mycelium tangle upwards in a drowning lonesome tank of damp musk and potent swampland, the decomposition is palpable. Rain is on the mind of the sky as the deep gray clouds swarm above with unreasonable drear. As I notice a hobbling duck push into the delicate, unmoving waters, an enormous hawk, silent from its treetop perch, readies to assail. In one deft sweep, massive talons emerge from the underbelly of the raptorial bird, eyeing to snatch its unusual prey. The duck, a female, is raised into the unforgiving sky, its feathers soaked with blood on its side as it surrenders to the predation, paralyzed. Fear evaporates with the humid environment as a cyclical rendering of atmospheric hosts. 
"To see a wounded bird, is fateful of deep sorrow caused by erring offspring. To see flying birds, is a sign of prosperity to the dreamer. All disagreeable environments will vanish before the wave of prospective good...Carl Jung said that birds represent thoughts while birds in flight symbolize moving and changing thoughts. Birds are generally associated with freedom and abandon. In old dream interpretation books birds are considered lucky omens..." (iDream)
an imaginary depth, dropping my body into death's dream
through naturally engraved aquatic pores,

a doorway into the underworld,
profoundly empty, yet potent and with sure steps,
a foundation, on which to Love, between the speechless universe,
a mold, created and destroyed, balanced and perfected,
known through a dissemination flown to the ten thousand directions by an anonymous author,
spontaneous mastery, always falling,
multitudes' sinking vessels,
round the last leg,
towards a pathless sojourning,
rare & genuine

- excerpt from "rare & genuine"

Thursday, 28 June 2012

No Country Mother West, Birth of Father Sun East

" was like we was both back in the older times, and I was a horseback going through the mountains in the night, going through this pass in the mountains, it was cold and there was snow on the ground, he rode past me and kept on going, never said nothing going by just rode on past, he had his blanket wrapped around him with his head down, when he rode past I seen he was carrying fire in a horn the way people used to do, and I could see the horn from the light inside of it about the color of the moon. In the dream I knew that he was going on ahead and he was fixin to make a fire somewhere out there in all that dark, in all that cold, and I knew that whenever I got there he’d be there..." from No Country for Old Men by The Coen Brothers

The road from the American Southwest opens in a lightning flash northward. A literal streak of beaming spectral intensity whitens the sand-whipped pavement unto the Canadian border beyond. This is my road, from Mother’s home of her dreams, to the creative migrant’s expatriate sway. A great triangle figures over the backdrop of North American flight. A sweet host of ethereal musing enlightens our unforeseen paths with adamantine wisdom. More southerly, the Peruvian fleet screams in my head with a need to lie beneath a doctor’s analyses, feet pointed horizontally, outstretched and fixed on the meridian point of loosened stress. Though, I am always late.

Waking up, exhausted and bedraggled, I find a representative from Amazon Watch at a doctor’s office, telling me I’ll be seen on the morrow. He’s an astute Englishman, proud and busy. I head back to Mom’s. A car pulls up in our driveway as we serve dinner. A human rights organization representative accompanies my old friend from Sudan.

My heart flies to cerulean heights under the darkening late feast of sky. His African build glows through a rejuvenated skin. His head, bald as usual, is unblemished and perfectly globular, fitting for such an astounding brilliant balanced mind. He greets us and I immediately have my mother fix him a decadent plate of meat. After dinner, he and his organizational representatives stay for conversation. My parents have retired upstairs.

“You have been a father and a friend,” my eyes tear with conviction at understanding our separate paths, crossed by pure benediction in our shape-shifting inglorious world. “Thank you for visiting me in person.” I am ever relieved to see him healthy, glowing and taking on his dream of working for his people, forced migrants of Egypt, in the comfort of a socially and technologically developed country as we enjoy in the West. His road is unlighted. With pronounced intent, their vehicle sets off into the unforgiving American night.

To dream of going west represents fulfillment, opportunities, and growth. Alternatively, west symbolizes death, old age or an ending of something. (Source)

western civility estranged
captivity in genital awareness
a rough and tumble, hide
and seek gathering
pushing into skin
draped exotic
law, broken by
caress and
gentle magic,
winning over
the ravaged tragedy
of attraction:
a sounding
for the war
on sex

- excerpt from "monosexuality"


Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Portrait of the Artist as an Immigrant

Present Sound, Silent Space by Rusty Kjarvik
"The acorn can become an oak, and not a donkey!" (C.G. Jung)

"...that time when he let himself go and when he landed deep down in what he came to call the collective unconscious, all this rejected feminine in himself, confronted him."

- from Part 6 of "Matter of Heart" documentary on Carl Jung

As you may have noticed, I have copyrighted my digital art images. This week, "Mountain Reflection on Cyclical Wordplay" and "Present Sound, Silent Space" now published on my blog under Experimental Writing Gallery, have been selected for what is my first live art exhibition, alongside professional artists. The exhibition supports emerging immigrant artists like myself.

"Mountain Reflection on Cyclical Wordplay" at Endeavor Gallery
Read Here: Cultural Intersection 2012 & Gallery Poster

I have been contemplating selling my art prints here online, they are currently being printed as a limited edition (1 of 100) series on a photo canvas at 20" x 30" dimensions. If there is any interest, or any comments regarding this idea, please feel free to email me at

Thanks for reading SoJourn(al): Private Dreams to Public Art !

A co-musician friend meanders and strays with eager intention, playful, directly before me. I am defenseless. As he approaches, leaping over me, my body transforms into mountain stone. Hard-edged scree and hillocks crack and harden in a gross maze of cavernous earth rock. Self-created, I transform. I am the mountain. My hair blows mercilessly, mutating into the icy summit winds. I rumble and shake with tectonic might. Mountain goats find refuge in my side, opening into an open cave. My friend enters.  
"When interpreting dreams with goats in them, consider the characteristics that we associate with these animals. We consider them to be sturdy and tenacious...Additionally, in pagan mythology goats are considered to be symbols of sexual vitality." (iDream)
passage in the name,
that subconscious wandering
that pierces through life, a remembrance
that deceived unity into a grandiose measure
foraging beneath the earth for emergent corpses, dusty in pain

- excerpt from "Inspired by 'the Reading'"

Sunday, 24 June 2012

The Universal Energy of Non-Violent Technology

"In the 1950s the scientists who created the atomic bomb offered a promise, by splitting the atom we could have a limitless supply of electricity that could end pollution and bring peace to the world forever, but after the disaster in Japan, that dream has never looked more like a nightmare."

- Narrator in "The Thorium Dream
A map, from overhead, spells a loose bombing pattern over the destroyed ash of a once proud Western city. The doomsday vibe is instilled pervasively, even from twelve thousand feet. I descend. Hooded, disguised in the female clothing of a conservative Iranian Muslim woman, I defy gravity, bounding over farmyards and plains with ghastly unconcern for my step. American, I daydream momentous bravery in the hook of Ali, the most famous American Muslim. Finally, I arrive to a gathering of young people my age. Crowding around a midday fire, we clumsily fiddle with various instruments. Curiously, I see an old friend. People begin to single me out. “Play this! Play that!” They stammer, belligerent with string and reed instruments sounding off into unbroken landscapes, the sobering spring sky presses coldly on my uncovered scalp. Every instrument I touch is in disrepair. Unable to make a clear sound, I move on to alcohol. 
"Dreaming of ashes omens woe, and many bitter changes are sure to come to the dreamer. Blasted crops to the farmer. Unsuccessful deals for the trader. Parents will reap the sorrows of wayward children." (iDream)
nervous mule-packed, people's spread,
glum rising, toward peak's,
unearthed sudden, as an island explosion,
tectonic wires flattening,
the disbelieving abortion!

the worshipped spring,
overloaded with unfound substance,
anonymity, in a human non-being,
a wasted mold, singing on the harmonious road,
to the past, when the all-encompassing now,
expressed self to a universal song

archaic, yet everlasting
and then, always gone,
fizzed out in the solar flare

pop flash, grazed heat from the mythological
drumbeat, groundless vibrations,
mounting birthless, made from dark matter,
living only to the taste,
dust on the wordless tongue,
a silence, encased in an echo
never bound,
we, fortunate,
binge on the profound.

- excerpt from "internet current"

Friday, 22 June 2012

Undocumented Dreamers Blaze a New Trail

"I'm tired of seeing students criminalized for wanting to obtain an education. I'm tired of seeing students lose hope because they can not realize their dreams of living freely in this country."

- Maria Marroquin

"Every dream that I ever had as a journalist was coming true and I couldn't go to Mexico to a friend's wedding, I still couldn't...the lies just kept getting bigger and watching United We Dream and watching these, actually these four activists from Miami walk from Miami to Washington D.C. to fight for the DREAM Act, the Trail of Dreams, I felt like a coward, I felt accountable..."

Jose Antonio Vargas from Democracy Now! 
Rummaging through childhood lairs, dusty basement keeps where in storage lay our ancestral feet. Our rummaging, nonplussed, we savored with every object greeted, music emanated as a voice from our sated finds. Plastic frames and silly hopes spoke with sheer brevity and noisemaking jolly. A working elder passes through unseen, behind our backs, provoking us to the drear of day in this predawn nostalgic sanctity.

“Keep your hands on the wheel!” the car steals across a merging lane, whiplashed and painstaking amid the gyrating fleet of normalcy. The driver fingers marijuana puffery, blind with musical havoc. I steam and vent with toxic remorse as we pass a humongous van filled with Mexicans, seized by the police. We are the true criminals.
"As a symbol it stands for any activity that is not within the bounds of the law and it can denote the fact of not being able to think clearly if you dream you are smoking it, and this could cause you much trouble and stress. As an herb, it has curative powers, and for the older generation of dreamers who still think of this as an herb, this is a warning to have your health seen by a professional. If you have a dream of using marijuana, it suggests you have feelings of insecurity and regret. You worry that people will discover who you really are."
the pregnant are disallowed entry,
to become second-class citizens
among the walking tits
and ass mockery that defiles our greater human
bond and friendship with abusive division
over the object-desire complex
parading as a public wildfire

- excerpt from "international women

Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Dreamless Impasse of Democratic Dictatorship

"One of the things we are realizing now is that it is easy to beat a dictator, but it's not so much easy to get rid of a dictatorship. The networks, the intricacies, the institutions, and everything the dictatorship has established remains, even after the elections."

From Democracy Now!

Mohammad Nasheed, recently ousted from freely democratically elected appointment as President of the Maldives by the previous dictatorship. The US has supported the previous dictatorship's return to power. See Egypt for more. 
In a ground level stone-concrete apartment with Vi, a storm-brought flash flood rolls in with increasingly formidable waves, crashing into our home. She hands me our son, as a final wave breaks over our heads, I'm unable to carry the infant above the water and lose its precious body in the storm-tossed water. After the flood subsides, under bristling gray skies, we search for our toddler in the wreck of our home. Found electrocuted in a ceiling appliance, Vi is beside herself. We leave our place unable to visit our neighbors from the shame, heartache and miserable wreck. We find our way into a department store, seeing newly homeless, bruised and battered, bloodied and torn bodies and minds. A friend with a newborn boy consoles my wife for her loss.
"Dreaming about being in a flood is an indication that the dreamer is currently experiencing powerful emotions that may be overwhelming. The flood in your dream could represent a very powerful, or even violent, emotional cleansing experience...just like in an actual flood, waters reside and so do emotions." (iDream)
into the aftermath of Egyptian shari'a
god who numbs the pride of his tombstone children
with numbers to awe mediums dress over worldwide rage
as local prophet magicians in the New South pray for rain
to drop into a new continent,
for the last time

- excerpt from "boiling over with truth"

Monday, 18 June 2012

Writing Theory: Creative Dream Fiction

Dream Vision by Albrecht Durer
(Click for TRANSLATION of Text)
As with all of my short fiction thus far, my source of inspiration is from the rough sketches of dreams which I interweave with creative interpretation from cultural references and my own repertoire of creative literature on my weblog "SoJournal: Private Dreams to Public Art"

My theorem for this prose fiction writing practice consists in self-psycho-analysis through lifting the burden of creative psychological confrontation with mental productivity. Such weightlessness is experienced in the imaginative, unconscious narratives found in the space of dreaming.

My writing practice overall runs along similar lines. I see the practice of writing to encompass a non-interventionist exploration into the raw activity of mind, or the nature of mind. Editing is merely another term for the extended reflection on the initial source of inspiration. Ultimately, this reaches towards a quickened perception and re-conception of the epigenetic functioning of the human being and thus an essential facet of the conscious universe.

Spontaneous writing complements my improvisational approach to world fusion music. Improvisation provides a way to emphasize ecological context through unconscious aspects of our surroundings, thereby hinting at an insight of awareness through sound.

With regard to the post re-titled, "The Lake between Egypt and Iran" this dream vision chronicles subconscious metaphors which I create both unconsciously and consciously through lived experience and mythical-emotional projections which breathe with visceral life in the realm of dream.

Based on Wikipedia, a theorem is "...a statement that has been proven on the basis of previously established statements..." Although, I must add, that the wellspring of individual creativity, as unbridled by the throes of formality, may indeed take place in all form, and more accurately from the seeds of emptiness from which form issues. Whether in number or letter, the truth is undefined and the spontaneous instant is where the magic of all life mysteriously prevails and finds its equilibrium of continuity. While this may read as contradictory to the definition of a theorem, indeed it supports the notion of a theorem by positing the basis of proof as the ground of being or the present moment, and previously established statements, as the substance which lies before us, bound by the interwoven presence of time, memory, dream, imagination, or succinctly, fiction.

(Read my first publication of Short Fiction inspired by Dream @ Haggard & Halloo)

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Speechless Movement of Noetic Sound

" use art not as self-expression, but as self-alteration; to become more open." 

"In Zen, they say, if something is boring after 2 minutes, try it for 4, if still boring, try it for 8, 16, 32, and so on. Eventually, one discovers that it's not boring at all, but very interesting."

At my father’s house, the neighbors are belligerent. They drink in squalor and rev engines in domestic rage, puffing their chests with the heave of self-created poverty, a traumatic school of bundled nerves, fraying and pressed against the hot ice of American dreams. On the road between my father’s and their house, I stare, empathizing with their tragic isolation. As I spin my head around to my father’s lawn, the grass is inundated with naked souls, barefooted and striving with dead honor to lust and feed off each other’s energy. Multi-colored bodies writhe and shake as a spawn of ghosts shrieking wildly in the post-greed high of the stubborn suburb.

Recoiling mad into my private bathroom at my mother’s I freak wryly, drowning my habit in a sore crack addiction. Black pills behind the mirror scream deftly into my ear at all hours. Howls brew, slaking my darkest corner with a dreamless food. Dispassionate and apologetic, I am exposed by my mother, who slowly weans me off the fatal addiction. Re-entering the street, I pass between the spiritual purgatory of population and the isolated wallowing of violent speed.

A time after, I walk carefully through a glowing green brush in the rural vein of the Northeast country. Carrying our instruments, my Love and I meander toward the new home of my father, way out in the bush of Maine. On their property, I play with a friendly cat, shaking a healthy, felled branch over its crooked head, radiant with happy fervor. We are received. I eat a stomach-full of red steak. I haven’t eaten meat in 7 years! The flesh is warm and satisfying. I ask, “Is the steak from Argentina?” The label says, “Made in America” just like any other consumer product. Sitting out by an outdoor hearth in the midday sun, my Love and I begin to play music for the flies. The wind is bright with security and home.

I imagine our next phase, on a bridge in San Francisco, street performing with a lively troupe and befriending a nut seller on our way to public grace.
"To dream of being in a beautiful and fertile country, where abound rich fields of grain and running streams of pure water, denotes the very acme of good times at hand. Wealth will pile in upon you, and you will be able to reign in state in any country." (iDream)

"To see raw meat in your dream symbolizes that there will be many obstacles in achieving your goals. If you dream of cooked meat, this symbolizes that you will see others obtain the object that you have been striving for." (iDream)
separation into the unfair glory of a broken now,
embittered jealousy and temptation from the host of a brewing psychic sickness,
guarding the predawn monumental distance among the enchained
battered souls of a deeply entrenched loss
complexified and exponential falsification of death's human mask
still breathing the attuned words of spiritual greed in the crescent boon of a perfect desert sleep,
and involved within an enclosed world all their own,
the forgotten beauty of an intoxicating truth still relieves the air above with its tempting,
yet out of reach and petrified, animalistic burden
feeding on the glow of the moon
and the laughter of pagan lights streaking past the beyond
in pairs of three and nine,
we forever move. 
- excerpt from "4 Dreams"

Thursday, 14 June 2012

Grandmaster's Fight Against Colonization, Fulfilled.


"In 1967, Grandmaster Ip Man started the Wing Chun Athletic Association to foster the spirit of Wing Chun with a group of like-minded enthusiasts, fulfilling the most cherished dream of his later years. Until now, Wing Chun has become a world renowned branch of Chinese martial arts. The lineage of Grandmaster Ip Man's disciples has exceeded 2 million people...including the most illustrious action star of all, Bruce Lee." - from "Ip Man" the film  
A full-scale invasion! Be-feathered helmets and Spaniard tempests swing wildly in the bloody aftermath breeze. The mountain jungle air is chokingly humid. The brayed skin and shattered metal splits and shaves with hairless, painted flesh meeting the clunky spillage of wounded Europe, thirsting to murder unearthed prophecy. Silent, I escape. There is no victor, only the great veil of death and havoc, a clean-swept tide foreboding a colony and its inimitable dry heave of personality into the vile mix of disease and one-sided freedoms.

A vented rise of wood and shale offers solace. I meditate with spirited concentration, removed entirely from the bells swinging into their clapper of my inevitably gruesome end. I’ve escaped this history into another world entirely.

My first visit to East Asia! I ride wealthily and untethered down futuristic main streets in South Korea, eyeing Monasteries doubling as military halls. Tokyo films play in the pavement signage. I hear Cantonese and Vietnamese swimming in my head. No, this is Korea! We dance carelessly over the sweet dell of masterful urbanism. There are people to meet, and eagerly we find our way, personified by withdrawn shelter in the sun world east. By midday, I am alone, a vagrant wanderer looking for likelihood in the exotic sky.    
"To dream of visiting Asia is assurance of change, but no material benefits from fortune will follow." (iDream)
not leading, trying, attempting,
nor bluntly giving, allowing or assuming,
yet to leave an ear, as offering, sacrificial listening,
to give an ear, affixing a host
who lets their body down to the cured mammal's coat,
whose friendship bore a spiritual communion

- excerpt from "shaped by more hands"

Tuesday, 12 June 2012

The Ascension of Living Myth

Attar of Neishabur
"Yea, ev'n the abstract Forms that Space and Time
Men call, Weal and Woe, Virtue and Crime,
And all the several Creeds like those who fell
Before them, Musulman and Infidel
Shall from the Face of Being melt away,
Cancell'd and swept as Dreams before Day."

- excerpt from "Bird Parliament" by Farid ud-Din Attar (translated by Edward FitzGerald)
Four massive peaks lift into the untouchable sky with such lofty height. This is the Eastern gateway and riverine border into the Canadian Rockies. In between two strong, unearthly peaks my cousins and I rest, having climbed afoot to the base of a glowing summit ahead in the crystal blue sky, cloudless and serene. Atop a rock-spurned crevasse leading into a valley gorge, we find a curious green-hoop tunnel net. Its loose thread flows welcomingly calm in the whipping winds. Instead of continuing upward I take a chance at descending through the unusual contraption. Leaping into its circular folds with another cousin we are cast into a semi-suspended state, gliding carefully above the chipped stone, shifting boulders and overhanging vegetation. We softly exit the net tunnel from its organic spindly bottom, dusting ourselves off in wishful camaraderie with the mountain prairie gold snow grassland. My oldest cousin decides to descend through the hoop alone and with swift might, overconfident and unthinking. He cascades heavily, knocking against the back of the mountain while encased in the mysterious, protective green netting. With a hard thud, he injures himself upon the ground, weak with delirium. A time after, I ascend, lone to the place where my cousins and I once found the curious organic net. Instead of looking through the downward spiral, I look up towards a distant peak amid the quartet of towering ascension. At the summit, a wild enormity of avian flesh flaps it's wings. The sight sends me into uncontrolled stupefaction, dizzy with groaning delight: a myth comes to life!
"Birds are usually considered a very good omen for the dreamer to receive and this is doubly true if the birds are brightly coloured, singing, and flying about." (iDream)
"If you ascend a mountain in your dreams, and the way is pleasant and verdant, you will rise swiftly to wealth and prominence...To awaken when you are at a dangerous point in ascending, denotes that you will find affairs taking a flattering turn when they appear gloomy...Mountains can also symbolize a higher realm of consciousness, knowledge, and spiritual truth." (iDream)

predicated on human life,
a delicacy, of what worth?

to live the most real dream
inspired and enforced,
to prepare a day and night

ocean's curse praying in public, before the all-knowing tremendous falling
into outer loves and inner minds
born of hearts, and wonders, worrying and dying, striving and being


- excerpt from "human life

Sunday, 10 June 2012

Escape from American Highways to Sonic Indigo

Seeing the metaphors in dream, is it a forecast for an external event? Is it a sign pointing to inner manifestation? I would emphasize the latter, though in many ways they are interconnected.

Example in Cat dream
“Paul, meet Paul” a friend from Boston sits across from a recent acquaintance. “I’m only going to St. Louis,” he confesses weakly. His scooter lies in disrepair at our feet. I’m on my way west, as far west as one can go, a bicoastal flight. The highway night is bleak, streaming lights cascade horizontally in the brittle rain. The sky is opaque with faded ebony, a mildew of steam emanates from under the gyrating wheels of our speeding metal encasement. 

My brother drives our mother’s work car. “You’re going to drive this when you’re on your way,” he says warmly. I’m dropped off at a gas station. A dark-skinned attendant intimidatingly pulls over a gas hose, pointing a muzzle onto my plate glass window. The night is endless. “Where am I off to?” I question my racing mind as my sibling waves from a friend’s vehicle, moving away. All is out of sight. I am somewhere in the middle. I see the futile passage of infinitude stretching beyond the hoarse glow of my shifting future blown to the winds of the American past. 
"If you escape from some place of confinement, it signifies your rise in the world from close application to business...This is an omen of good luck for many, as it is a statement that you are making good." (iDream)
selflessness is the father of human survival

a feathered ear
a hummed prayer, upwards
soars without me

March 11, 2011
Improvised spoken word on a bridge overlooking the Bow River

Friday, 8 June 2012

Cyclical Resolution, "Wordplay" PDF Online!

Cyclical Wordplay

Hello to All Fellow Dreamers, Bloggers and Visitors:

As you may have noticed, I have been posting excerpts from the "Cyclical Wordplay" collection (linked to the first artwork under Experimental Writing Gallery to the right) for the past few weeks as an addendum to each post.

As I move onto my "Exotic Settlers" collection to accompany the next generation of dream posts, I am making a PDF version of the entire Cyclical Wordplay collection available for your creative reading / interpretive pleasures.

This is all for the centred purpose of crafting and developing my creative writing in concert with the online community. It is a great dream of mine to share, collaborate and continue to explore each other's inner and outer worlds through web-based creativity. Viva La Tecnologia De Los Pueblos! Long Live the Technology of the People!

Reception to date for "Cyclical Wordplay"


- Publications -

ditch, poetry that matters

- Forthcoming -

3:AM Magazine, Eskimo Pie


- Exhibitions -

The New Post Literate: A Gallery of Asemic Writing

Maad Sheep

- Forthcoming -

Best Fiction

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Training Our Brain to Welcome the Spirit of Dream

"In the altered state of consciousness of people who meditate, we often see theta activity appear. Theta activity is associated with dreams. It is a relaxed state, but something is happening in terms of cognition. It's not easy to maintain theta activity for a long time. It takes a lot of training to do that."

- from "Mystical Brain" by Isabelle Raynaud

Meditation with Mahakrishna 

Transcendence transpires. The transpersonal takes effect, dryly in the humid gathering. With rich clothes and frayed seams we sit before the elephant-headed Krishna. Ganesha-Elephant man! Seated before, equally clothed, he prefers to be addressed Mahakrishna. I vanish!

"To see Krishna in your dreams, denotes that your greatest joy will be in pursuit of occult knowledge, and you will school yourself to the taunts of friends, and cultivate a philosophical bearing toward life and sorrow." (iDream)
we create

inspired music
unheard by earthly tones       nor human ears
harmonious voices                calling towards a presence

a welcoming home
within the space known as I
an eternal resting place
where through our music we share that space

with peoples     creatures      beings      spirits
places ways times and manifest ideas
through instinct's thoughtful mentation
recognizing all as one
we sing and play an emergent force
calling all forth
from within shells
hardened through travel

- excerpt from "Celestial tONES"