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mapping sounds. finding the threads, witnessing the weave, tending to a kind of slow beauty. alpha and theta waves tend to be the most experienced in sound offerings for folx who are actively listening. this is a beautiful, mending thing; since most of the time our humxn brains are in beta mode (thinking / processing / problem solving) even when we are trying to rest or sleep. when we dip into alpha and theta brainwave states we can often experience: the in-between of awake and asleep, creative surges, visions of colour or cinematic experience, body euphoria (gravity softens, body lifts, head becomes feet), daydreaming, deep fucking meditation, real deep rest, and much much more. on the other end of this, depending on the practitioner and the instruments they use, sound meditations can also cause anxiety and a stressed out nervous system by playing instruments too loud, too long, too high in frequency. what has been your experience in sound meditations / online and offline?
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Queer Folktales + Sound Meditation Tonight / 9pm EST / 6pm PST ๐๐๐๐๐๐ Find a cozy spot (LIKE THE BATHTUB!) Settle in with headphones Close your big gay eyes And (with hope) we drift into dreamtime See you soon!
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tough and tender and tearful and tremendous and teenie and terrified and terrific and trembling and titillated and tasty and technicolour and terrible and twinking and trusting and trusting and trusting ๐ชฒ
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Hi! Queer Folktales + Sound Meditation is NOT on tonight on IG Live. I need another week to settle back into offerings and continue to shift into some big transitions / upcoming life changes. Many of you who come to my sound offerings on this platform have messaged me to ask how you can support. The IG Live sessions are always and forever free and I want as many folx to tune in as possible to hopefully get a little lift or a little rest from the magic of sound and story. If you want to support the work I do, the best way is to sign up for my pre-registered events and trainings that are currently being held through Zoom. Most of these offerings are sliding scale and all of them have 10% of proceeds being donated back into community support. Tomorrow is a Bedtime Story + Sound offering to tuck you in and (hopefully) send you into some dreamy states. If money is bare bones right now and you can't do the sliding scale, please just email me. I would love to have you there.
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Please join me for the final ๐Queer Folktales and Sound Meditation ๐ for 2020 Tonite (Wednesday) 9pm est 6pm pst Iโll be reading a sweet story from โKissing the Witchโ by Emma Donoghue and then we will get right into lullabies and sonic explorations. I have had the most beautiful time rendering and offering this lil Wednesday night ritual for the last few weeks and I would love to continue to offer it in 2021. If youโve got some beauty and spent a bit of time with me on Wednesdays, let me know below if you would like this to continue as much as I would. Big gay blessings to you, ๐น
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because all of it exists at the very same time: all that decay, all those heartbeats. all that isolation, and all the (waiting for) dancing in the streets. all that broken heart, all that loud life-giving hope. all of what we were taught and what we were told, and all that we are choosing to become.
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๐ถ this version of the lyre is v Anglo-Saxon and feels oh so bardic and we are just getting to know one another but i believe we will be v good friends.
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THE GARDENS Mary Oliver Moon rose full and without compromise through the good garden of leaves, here and there stars rode in flickering slicks of water and for certain the burly trees hunched toward each other, their dark mantles like the fur of animals touching. It was summer on earth so the prayer I whispered was to no god but another creature like me. Where are you? The wind stood still. Lightning flung its intermittent flares; in the orchard something wandered among the windfalls, licking the skins, nuzzling the tunnels, the pockets of seeds. Where are you? I called and hurried out over the silky sea of the night, across the good garden of branches, leaves, water, down into the garden of fire. This skin you wear so neatly, in which you settle so brightly on the summer grass, how shall I know it? You gleam as you lie back breathing like something taken from water, a sea creature, except for your two human legs which tremble and open into the dark country I keep dreaming of. How shall I touch you unless it is everywhere? I begin here and there, finding you, the heart within you, and the animal, and the voice. I ask over and over for your whereabouts, trekking wherever you take me, the boughs of your body leading deeper into the trees, over the white fields, the rivers of bone, the shouting, the answering, the rousing great run toward the interior, the unseen, the unknowable center. ๐น๐๐น๐๐น note: having no idea that Mary Oliver was queer until yesterday (thank you angel @kayjacque for bringing that knowledge into my world) the whole make up and magic and eroticism of her writing is now even more / ever more spellbinding. i hope this piece is sweet on your heart and tongue as it is on mine.
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i wanna be too busy chasing angels, not algothrims. thatโs all.