I gave a live performance the other day at church. I sing in tongues and the device i am holding translates that into words. Its a rather remarkable device since in this picture, its on fire, its a massive stump, and its also a voice box as well.
How i practice is i let that device speak, and over time i create sounds with wind passing over a membrane in my throat by pressing air across it. It can be varied with a number of techniques. Now my daughter she doesnt really care as much about those sounds, but when the voice box in my hand speaks she perks right up!!
Now the church i attend is rather large. So large i lose track i am always in it regardless. Thats an unfortunate moment when I start thinking a bit to much. I then take a deep breath, step back look at trees and realize they dont care if i am paying attention. The intellect is a trickster to itself. Most never discover this. Poor normal souls.
Now my church has no walls and not religion, not science, or any human thought has ever found any walls nor will it, although most "believe" they have and debate whose walls are correct. Both are very immature.
I am never confined to that wall thinking, the wilderness is unbounded and its my home.
i sit outside those walls that we always errect, crawl into and begin to believe, that now, we really know. And i laugh its only the tiny section inside a tiny room called the human cranium.
That wallness that thing creates is from the dawn of time till the end of time false and an illusion it creates for itself. It seeks to control what it cannot control. Reality.
John Muir said"in going out, what i really discovered was that i was really going in".
I undestand for many thats an alien unintelligible statement. In a world of religion in confusion, of science in confusion arguing, taking a deep breath, see what the trees see, and you may, if you pay close attention, see the church, in which i play.
Maybe you too will pick up a voice box of wood and speak 3 cords while exercising that bagpipe we call a voice in our throat. All of it will over time harmonize with the one voice, that is for us humans so hard to hear. Art never ever comes easy.
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