Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings

Fog, Obsessions & Magic

Every time I write a song I go through a predictable process.

First, there are days of anxiety where I wait for the right moment to ask James for help with recording & uploading. Due to his odd hours & catastrophic stress levels, days or weeks may pass before I get up the nerve to ask him.  He likes to help me, of course, but I still feel guilty asking for his time when he is always run ragged & juggling grenades.

(The past 2 years he has mostly been in the cryptocurrency field. If you like trading cryptocurrencies, visit his site: www.whalewarz.com)

Eventually, I get the song posted. Then I enter a fog. Who am I? What am I doing with my life? Within a day or two, the fog leads to a new obsession that I am sure will be the answer to everything. The obsession lasts for a few days or maybe weeks. Then I enter another fog. What the hell have I been doing? Sometimes I can hardly remember. Why did I paint everything green? What was I hoping to accomplish?

At this point, I return to being my regular self, tail between my legs. The self who doesn’t need to control the universe, but just wants to collect pink things & scented soaps. Maybe write an occasional song.

I am going through that second fog right now- where the obsession lifts and I wonder what I have been doing. This last obsession was with reading books on magic written prior to the 1700s. And while it was somewhat interesting, eventually the patterns of the books began to clash with the patterns of my brain until I just didn’t feel like myself anymore.

The books were what I would call “occult.” Which (to me) means harnessing spiritual powers to create change on earth. The occult has masculine, religious overtones that don’t sit right in my stomach. Fathers, hierarchies, magic squares, solemnity & robes- these are the things that belong to men.

Then there is witchcraft, of course, but I am not womanly enough for that. Long flowing dresses, pools of naked women, bubbling cauldrons, turning men into frogs- witchcraft is only for earth mothers or lesbian teenagers.

Luckily, I believe that between the higher world of celestial magic and the lower* world of earth powers, there is a third world where magic resides. A world so ordinary it does not appear magical at all. Maybe I will tell you about it sometime. But right now I have to cook dinner. I hope all is well in your secret existence.

A shopping spree from when I thought orange was the answer to everything. (But still could not help picking up some browns, since I have this obsession with brown despite the two of us having nothing in common.)
A shopping spree from when I thought green was the answer to everything. But, once again, I could not resist grabbing a few brown bowls as well due to the funny feeling they give me.
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Plants and the Emerald Kingdom

The Green King

 

 

Where does he go? Where in the universe is what I mean…
Does he fly endlessly through the skies sparkling, I was wondering?

Or does he sleep until the day has come to bring the spring?
What’s if he’s always near, like a breeze lying here, softly listening?

First we die, then we’re born, robes on our shoulders worn- it’s written in our hands.
He will come, then he’ll die, spreading out far and wide like sun across the land.

Wait for him, a cloud who bears the carriage of a king.
He will bring the living, although we must bring the dreams.

Why do I cry? Why do I feel this way, is what I mean?
Everyone knows the way life will go, always so, if they’re listening.

And when it hurts, it’s only nails forced through a screaming hand…
Why can’t I learn to bleed always remembering it’s his magic plan?

Everyone knows the pain leaves and come back again, that’s just the way life lies.
Throwing us on the wall, first we rise, then we fall; we’ve seen it with our eyes.

Wait for him, he will return on air so fresh and green.
He will bring the living, although we must bring the dreams.

Why is it cold? Here is my hand if that is what you want…
Look up there on the hill all the trees standing there waiting for their moment.

Why do I smile? Why does this passion fill me like a friend?
I can’t wait to remain for the time of greatest pain when we reach the golden end!

Clouds will fly in a wind, everything begins again, you wish that it would stop…
Waking up with your head bloodied in a spinning bed, it’s time to get back up.

Trees will spread in victory; they recognize their king.
He will bring the living, although we must bring the dreams.

 

Download MP3: The Green King