There is a car accident happening and I'm not sure if I've left my body or if I'm an onlooker connecting with the tragedy...all I know is my form and the forms of those around me appear to me as fireflies above the city even as I am aware of my physical hands and feet in the car approaching it... or leaving it, or swimming through it, or anchored to it, in the realms of tragedy where lives are shattered and moments are broken open to reveal a greater continuity time itself with its sense of determination to make it up the hill with its unending momentum; has to take a smoke break.


In this era of unknowns, in this new year where all things are still whitewash and blank in the back alley of all of our emotional discontents where the details seem lost in the tide of refuse that spills out; this oncoming traffic can seem in of itself like Russian roulette.

I look back and past the lanes in which the wreckage makes the onlookers into the cattle call railway track and hope that I too can clear the street in some kind of  near miss fashion that will not leave its everlasting function and not be a smoking brand of pain and road flares amidst the steel glass and plastic bumpers.

I wish that i can make a mark on the chalkboard of continuity or etch my truth on the changing sands of the deserts wind, where horses scream and primal muscles burn, past the unending heat of a thousand grains of argument past the burning pressures of struggle and hopeless heat.

I know I am not the most capable person sometimes I make many mistakes at once, like an athlete in the zone of fouls or a car without breaks on a movie set forcing the hands of fate to take a paddle to my ass or the pedal to the stunt doubled body I just lost, I missed the oasis and still I trudge on but if you think that I cant learn in the infinitesimal wisdom of the universe, where all time and space stop at a bus station and discuss politics, and the nature of the color salmon, that you are sadly mistaken, I may be down and out and my clothes may be disheveled beyond recognizing the true nature of cloth vs skin or earth vs stone, I may make enough money to breath the air around me and nothing more, I may swim in the small world of possibilities for a betterment, or feel the ground beneath me sprouting with the layers of all of our ancient ruin and secrets, to grow a new seed in the soil to watch the roots branch out in switchboard fashion. I may see the connections to all of this and still be able to do nothing as my hands become hog-tied and my foots in mouth again dance around pogo stick animations become the lethal weapon in the homicide you are witnessing, sometimes chaos is its own sitcom...

 There is a diamond a shining jewel that caresses my skin from the inside.

That pierces me from within, my whole body from cells to veins  to lungs is turning to polished carbon , and whether you see it or it is seen by the world it matters not, I am a glowing jewel of a human, who wants to reflect it in all those who I have met or will meet so that we too can be perfect reflections of all of our pressures, heat and black soot.

I may be flawed there may be inclusions, certain scars that cant be undone cant rearrange their molecular house, that's a part of the charm of the individual isn't it?

If I wanted to be born a machine i would have asked for that back at the factory when they were issuing bodies and souls. I would have asked for the precision of the industrial wave that even now is crashing down upon my head hurting my skull with the metronome like power beneath its every move.


I am floating above the city, not sure if I am dreaming or if I have checked into the realms of cumulus permanently, I have left the skin and apt complex of my genetic human suit and fly free as a kite tied to a string, who's hands are these?

When I look back at the moving screen that my life has become I can breath easy, many people chanted I wouldn't amount to much of anything and so far they are right, but that's just one turn and the full span of my existence has not come to pass there are still stoplights u turns and freeway overpasses, so grab the wheel and wax strong...

this is a moment of clarity where I ask for the onlooker to polish the stranger, buff the bad man, and apply care and caresses to those that have wronged you, only good can come of it, only good can brightly appear. We are a world of turmoil where the confused and the heartless can become the enlightened and the informed.
How we brighten the world with the crayon box of our forgiveness..

How I shine How I long to shine and create a stream of thought from jewel to you so you too will drop this charade of mustiness, you too will see the wonder in the black dark recess of this personal moment.

These things are placed on the earth so that will remember how it can be vs how it is currently.

I see the buildings down below me as I sweep myself up in the graces of understanding something greater than my personal lifetime, in the continuity of a trail of ants to queen I see maybe for the first time the collective mosaic of our plight as a species and I laugh, high up in the sky as stars fade into my new skin or I fade into them and become the heavens as heavens become me and the opaqueness of it all is funny because the lives below are transparent and I am more alive than ever now..

This life all this pressure, the collective diorama of human suffering that if focused on becomes a radio station for all the ills inside me, this too will pass by me as if in smoke, this pressure is only helping me to become more of a symphony than I once was. I will see it burn burn the way the chemical reactions in the test tube break down and dissipate, I will become a simple arrangement of a single purpose, I will shine, you will curse me I will shine , you will take up arms I will reflect the sun, you will shoot and I will bleed butterflies.

Inside of me there is a jewel a shining bright beautiful gem of rarest form and maybe you or the world will never see its dawning where the sunlight grasps the hand and brings the full glory of the symphony into existence.

I can sing my self to sleep with mouth like utterances of violin or cello, and tears can drop from my eyelids and rain the world down with my sorrow and timpani accompaniment and create the tropical conditions for all to be born from my unflinching heart beat , but why be like clouds, When I can be the ground that soaks them up.


How many of us have become, to be receptive because lately all I can do is transmit and what i receive in return is static radio stations that speak of change and the collective diseases of the planet, help  me be silent like Grey whales as pine needle perfect as the snow topped mountain flowers, where do silence and ignorance meet?

I have met few people who do not talk all day long they stammer and jolt and electrify the air with their ceaseless movement, where is the language of cellular movement where no speech can fathom its walls?


My kite is drifting now and the winds that have picked me up move me down guide me the way that ships are guided by the breezes of forces beyond man made power or control.beyond the necessary means or the wanting desires.

there is a patience in the simple and the profane and sometimes chaos can bring with it closure, maybe this cacophony that we are surfing is leading to something profound as well..

All I know is I am tired of waiting for patience to find me and rescue the bloom.

I am an orchid that blooms once every 35 years, and when i bloom the world is recreated in the trumpet noise that is emitted from my stamen, you are the surrounding galaxy that is breathing me to life..

Sometimes we only bloom once, sometimes we have only so much and the chains that bind can exhaust and the flood pouring out can not be stopped and the tide can not be turned and you just feel like giving up and saying complacency is the way to be,
But the concrete wont hold me down and I may be impoverished but I'm rich in my self and I can be as delectable as chocolate on an ice cream day, and as deserving as a lottery winner after a long night of bill collector harrasment or the beggar with no limbs to hold me up and create structure hopping up on the phantom limb..

I too deserve a hidden moment of rectification and deserve a moment in the sun to feel my skin warm and perfect, and not cold lifeless skin

I float above my wasting form as I pass by the damage and see the life of a woman no more than 23 visiting me from my car window her heart is pieced together with the thoughts of all those who have wronged her and her ghost is a constant siren in otherwise empty traffic and she is in her own private crucifix, where agaony and vitality meet and pray with each other.

I want to reach out to her and polish, buff the scars away, take her ephemeral spirit in my burning palms and wash the idiocy and dissapointment off of her.

I want to break the spell of human folly and triptied shoelace, I want to sit back and counsel her and say to her

"Really we all know nothing, we scramble and hurt and we dont know why , we are all the same."

I want to say this but I just tear up, as I watch her ghostly image creep along the highway in blunt disorder and disbleief that she is gone, and as to what is next...

 I enter my eyelids and cry tears of aliveness and feel the salt soak my clothing and warm my legs, I remember why I am alive if nothing more than moment to moment to touch feel and be.

I realize I have escaped the crash that it is not me at all, and yet, even that is a lie isnt it?

This, and the song bright as yellow on my playlist is to commemorate or remember a very dear soul, please read and listen to them together if you can to understand the depth of this person...

Sokhak Peng, who's name means "bringer of peace"...

He was swallowed whole in the ocean last Sunday, she was coveting him evidently because his body is still to be found, I personally think I'm going to see him years from now and give him a talking to for disappearing however I'm not sure if this idea is spawned from hurt intuitive resoning or denial that you still walk among us...

I remember the first time our eyes came into contact, it was like "ah here I am again with my ancient friend", we said very little and understood much of each others thought processes of the world and of  ourselves with no words, you admired my ability to express, I admired your ability to be strong...

You have taught me much, so much I can fill pages and pages with the lessons...The importance of positivity, the ability to be gentle while still maintaining my masculinity, the actual world we share instead of the intellectual one we play in, the need for all of us here to help each other, the need for art to be a lifestyle and not a trend or hobby.

I met you and your superhero friends, people who I felt humbled to know existed in the world, who moved as if every breath was their last attempt to help those less fortunate than themselves...and while my time with you initially  was short, we met up again as if nothing had ever changed.

The importance of an early riser, the importance of climbing trees, the importance of the beautiful moment of the lion, of the stars, of eye contact, of a warriors stance, of the ocean, the importance of feeling truly alive, the importance of remembering our connection to the sun...

"Karak are you wearing white socks, what the fuck brother...yes even the importance of color on my feet, of being a moving canvass...

you were and are something I still strive to be an integrated art form, a dancer in the ballet of dreams living in the waking life and inviting all to join you in the merriment...

You gave gifts to those who had nothing once telling me that one of your favorite things was to fix-up old bicycles and give them away to friends...

You were/are a Renaissance man, you taught me the importance of the Renaissance, the importance of a multi-layered multi-dimensional human, the realness of breath and spirit, the realness of a handshake.

We had diferent mothers diferent upbringing diferent background but on many levels we came from the same universal principle..

I write this feeling as if my chest is caving in my breath has become labored, I cant believe that someone that loved the world and changed the world so deeply with such profundity is gone. I think its appropriate that you have not been found, maybe you will be found, maybe you like Osiris before you lay in waiting to arise after three days and conquer the world with your brilliant glow, your heart open as a gravestone made of sapphire and ruby's, your soul as blazing as the sun on new fallen snow.

I have had the honor of meeting only a few individuals that I consider at their soul levels to be advanced and pure, you my friend are on the shortlist...

So that's why I rename you Lazarus and like those great sages before me tell you to wake up from your slumber and meet me on the side of the mountain where I am making a giant mural in your honor for pigment I will use the tears of joy that flow out for all the wise things you have said to me in the years I have known you, for a brush I will use the pages of all my poems tattered for their incompleteness at explaining the humble.

Arise dear great bringer of peace and wake from the dead to be reborn, whether I see you in the person that passes by; or actually glimpse that rainbow belt you wore as an anchor to the sun I will know that you are alive and well when I hear the first sounds of your song in the birds by dusk or see your smiling face behind the sun...

The ocean wanted you for itself, and wether or not you are a captive of the people of the sea, you will be among me in the molecules that make up our material selves, and like these whirling blocks of billiard cloud wonder I too will feel the space in between our lives where you are smiling inside us all and telling us to grow, to love, to appreciate, and to be kind, no matter the circumstances, no matter the pitfalls, be positive and shine bright for this little skytail of a lifeline this stream of endless echoes, this current that has an end and a begining and to what destiny we arrive is only determined by the barometer of our hearts feedback...

There is a legend that speaks of an advanced race of beings who live in our local star, and talks about their benevolance their wisdom and thier joy, go claim your throne and rule among them and when you look down send me smiles and laughter at the illusion that this life holds between its  tear stained palms, make a mural with your heart cavity and help me paint the world awake, for we are all sleeping and havent yet heard the call of, our father the sun...

I am writing a novel it is based on the 7 principles of my play and will be available chapter by chapter on this blog for a short period of time. Just thought I would let all those people who randomly and or not so randomly read this thing. I have no idea who you are, but my blog count shows you anyway...

In the morning after peeling myself from the purple monstrocity.

Trying with all my might to shak off the amnesia.

Place, timeand what transpired that has left me stranded, and not aboard the nighttime shipment.

I wander into the bedroom half afraid to startle half cautious.

and I stare in disbelief at a creature so raw and pure that heaven weeps in her eternity, alive and well aware of what a masterpiece lays beneath my gaze.

There, you sit lay sprawl.

An imovable work of marble, strands of hair strewn about your queenly temples.

And you command.

as if a scepter lay in your palm its ghostlike yelping for authority its chains and its rattles.

"let silence reign."

But I heed you not and nor do I have remorse.

Everyday in my bed, angelic royalty sleeps,

naked, succulent fresh peach flavor in the air and I taste it with my toungue and it excites in me something grand crazy and quizzical.

Ripe fruit in sunrise. Peaches and milk. Rivers of forgetfulness, loss of time.

Sublime Human, sensual female, ripe wanting mouth,

cavernous hunger, a burning lamp.

Naked.

I feel so liberated, the kind that spans past countries...

When we are unclothed, and the walls that fabric creates with its stitch work and its quantum armour are laid to rest, like Jerrico just like a crumbling fortress and there I stand in front of you, Naked.

We bear ourselves, to each other for the purpose of a bond only we can speak of through the tongues of our eye contact.

Two mirrors reflecting,

Lovers, Friends, Partners.

No greater trust to give you other than my frail form free of the fettered armour

this imperfect complete account of my frail human shell wherein you will find the secrets of eternity in my perfected immortal soul for you only for you just for you.

vulnerable, still quiet, a rage of rapture sorounds this luminous form.

Stark and beautiful and yours.

 

I f I was to hold you up to the sun with all your frailty,

would you melt as quick and clean as ice-cream on a june afternoon in texas?

 

If I was to hold out my hand and ask that you and I spend some quality time just listening to each other breathe, would you pick up on the subtlety?

I can't remember the last time I had faith that the small things that bring me glee were actually looked at as signifigant by this human race.

I feel like a rollercoaster car, who has derailed and wants to escape.

 

 Give me the subtle and the beautiful; the quiet and the content, because it will be a long time until I am handed something this ancient again.

I am afraid that we all are guilty of pursuing a life that is for all intents and purposes loud, crude and played with a distortion pedal.

 

Give me whole notes and crisp sound instead.

 

I perfer the symphonies of birds to any car stereo.

I perfer the bass notes of ocean waves to any club night.

If I jump up and down in circles will you understand that I too believe that I can break the spectrum of gravities still white pull ,and fly?

Or would you, like all the nonbelievers simply shake your head and mumble fiercities under your breath?

Some kind of soothing mantra for normality.

Hoping that in the swirling shaped air around your lips that you too can cast me away. Send me away with a message. Glow winds blowing.

A small whisper

"This is all there is."

A man walks into a room with a fever of dios-stic porportion, his viral affliction takes hold of all the waiting room victims.

 The hospital becomes screened off ,the CDC tries to stop the flu, but god is more communicable than sex and drugs combined into a cocktail you drink down to its orgiastic headaches.

I used to think that power was in staying up till three oclock in the morning, learning the caverns of the holographic subway, ingesting immortality with a leap.

Now I realize you cant make immortals, immortal. How do you make water wet?

Or the desert dry?

You simply stand back and watch the world bloom as sure as an eye centers everything that sees its blink, inside the vortex of this dying prayer I have a whirling joke for you, this rambling speech is just that, another attempt to stumble into God.

 

A stranger on a train holds up a mirror, with these words scrawled in lipstick smeared on paper.

"this is you, what is not you?"

as you stare into the reflective surface, meditate on this great lie oh anticipated deception, where is the womb and what is the universe, you are versed in the ways of unification.

You-need verse.

Poetry can complain while tumbling through it's beauties, sometimes this very act of a tumble is the greatest act of all with a tuck and roll comes a surrender, just like these words, just like these thoughts , I surrender myself to an ideal, an archetype, a divinity a point of light, whatever metaphor will fit, I surrender.

The hand of God is the hand of my own.

Freedom is the sensuality that comes from emptiness,

a feeling inspired by a bearhug with God,

God in this case, has a vice grip on my sol,

 my sol is tatooed to my tounge and solar systems colapse and are reborn everytime a new word is formed...

Il'l meet you on the other side of time, where watches break as they listen to the shadows, and all the dreams they play with beaten rhyme, whos bruises aborigines hang from gallows, for dreamtime is the only watch I wear, whos hands belong to the wrists of god, nor does the body of god bear a crossed noose, for religion is a fools way to trod the sod, so meet me on the mountain of the moment, and I will play the fiddle of a sol, and we will cry for spirit to be free, and for science to once again be whole. But until that day when all the fibers laid upon this dimensional quilt are thread, and we sleep in the beds of heaven for where is heaven not when angels tread, oh weary path of great central suns focus, whos blinking eye creates the heart beats sum, oh mathematical formula of all that is known of us, and the secrets that we keep behind the hearts throne, I sit upon this hour as if it were a penny for how many of these have we thrown away, walking in circles with a voice of many, letting apathy and violence rule the present day.

Lest we forget the threads that bind existence are sure as the moving cesium minute, but if you hold onto life with uncontrolled power, you surely will lose every second that your in it...

Lives are torn down and put back up in a half ass collage, some chocolate sprinkles and a beer filled with alkeseltzer tablets. This confusion reigns in so tight all I can think about is suffocating blankets. And the sugary sticky film it leaves behind.

I; this wrecked ship, this torn waistline this inconsistency in the beat, am/fm broken down radio signal into my mathematical parts, surely as a rainbow after a storm as stark and naked as a concrete freeway.

Alienation is the first step in a long line of trap doors.

Memories can deceive, provide comfort in the war zones that rambling thoughts bring to the fray, small gramaphone skips scratches in the record that pull you back and reign you in but its all the same medicine.

Dragged back and out to when there was a second of understanding, when a moment of empathy, when an hour of connection, when everything felt like the sun on a soft melt.

These days the bitter dust turns strangers away lovers into childeren and humans into tantrums.

I remember when there was hope, some far off world now, a completely seperate solar system.

My life was a street; where endless pathways, led to endless gatherings, of endless purpose, for endless causes, but I cant help but feel that things are so seperated there is no cause that a group of people will stand for as one.

We humans can become strong, stronger than alloy or chain-link when driven by common purpose.

I remember when there was joy in my life; the kind that fills a basket with flowers so beauty-precise its almost a formula for the nervous system to shed its previous electromagnetic signals into a new highway of consciousness,a great detour of man, a complete and utter shift into a higher dimension leaving behind this one as sure as ash is transformaiton.

You were one of those memories. You were one of those people. I am sure in the life that you lead now you blaze a trail for all that know you and hold you dear, I wish I could gather all the people that make a difference in this world and create a new nation, we would survive on a mother ship and explore the ways in which human beings have become limited.

When are we as a generation, a movement of people, when will we stand up and shift this great tide of apathy.

I can scream outloud all day now no one listens to anything but theier personal universe aka ipod/cellphone, so disconnected from the outside world, so foriegn to our own nature.

We these snail carrying mp3 player shells, these television sets on walk,
we have forgotten the simplicity of a sprouting seed, the quietude of a human aura, the power and depth of a spirit on fire.

Instead it seems most of us here are on autopilot forgetting to love, slow down, appreciate, be.

We enter this room, to puzzle; to integrate

 

This sanctuary,

this temple we call a body,

this soul we call humankind,

this family,

this tree,

these roots,

the branches,

 this self.

We enter this space, remembering our dignity maybe for the first time.

Beauty on the outside world, a surface scratched to its pop-cultured ugliness, discarded trends, remodeled confusions, but here among the sanctuary of color and sound, simplicity and smiles, we remake ourselves.

In the image of a shining empowerment,

in the reflection of a glowing reach-out bear-hug with the sensual emptiness of the divine, by this transformation of fall into spring

all our baggage melts away

 when we remember to

 laugh,

smile,

 reflect,

 organize /and/ play.

Our greatest discovery, is in changing ourselves to emulate our ever chasming inner world; where jewels of virtue are abundant, and the only lack is what we have yet to imagine.

 We; these transformed worshipers of the basic goodness life has to offer, prostate and humble ourselves before the shattered glasses of fragility, the inner sanctum of vulnerable moments, this tear of repression at being something picture perfect, instead of perfectly out-pictured.

Our greatest challenge: "To embody all that we would have others create."

Thereby time, in its very nature, stops to appreciate us, and we stop in the timeless nature of these lines that are read right now in this moment to appreciate each other just a little more than we did a moment before we entered this room.

To shine,

The world,

Existence.                                                                    Karak Arnett

 

"The kingdom of heaven is within."

King james new testament

"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell"

 

Oscar Wilde

"Hell begins on the day when God grants us a clear vision of all that we might have achieved, of all the gifts which we have wasted, of all that we might have done which we did not do"

Gian Carlo Menotti

 

 

Is hell a real place?

 

Is heaven a real place?

In the depths of a city, a culture sleeps, the ocean drops down on us like: winter rains.

We are buried in water the same as you, only the sun still shines inside this bubble you call a sea.

I blow thoughts to you of brotherhood, a thousand commands from my lips, a dandelion head gone gray with age, the wise stars float to tell you secrets.

This connection surpasses all of Newton's laws, secret billiard balls and mechanical clocks.
There are threads that tie to threads; all of this in front of me is fluid.

Knowing that you are alive my tribe flourishes, the ancient one that lives in our hearts.

All hearts beat as one in this moment we remember our embryo.

I beat the drum of my keyboard in the hopes that these waves will reach you; they will hit your skin as sound tides lapping against the dense night.

With my current comes inspiration, a long lost call to remind you that all of us threads that weave the tapestry shut, a secret life, a winking eye.

Oh this great love surrounds the water cycles harmony plays,
among the fallen trees, among the golden orbs. Heaven is no longer a secret, our eyes are wide awake, and the rain-ocean-sun has washed away the tattered lives of yesterday and now is singing lullaby a fallen snowflake I will run as sure as tornadoes come down hard and fly emotional weather and paths they walk with broken canes for trees the sum.

I hope that if I slip, my brothers will call me back, I hope that if I fall, gravity that dear sister of pressure will reverse her curse and I too will dive dive into the vast spaciousness of our earthen mother's

Blue

Watery

Prayer.

Or float as I dream,

and bounce upon her electromagnetic jeweled body...

 

Oh great pretender,

 

who plays hide and seek with my emotions,

capture the flag with my dreams,

and army and war with my love,

 come out of hiding behind these monstrosities we call a phallic policing.

Oh massive protuberance,

oh mighty erection,

oh sweat and grime,

 wash away in the waters of a gentle breeze,

be as free as a hand waving in the sun.

Humankind,

your world is awaiting you behind these veils you have constructed,

 oh great mask of confusion,

break upon the laughter of a thousand of your selves,

all exclaiming the big joke.

WE create what we vibrate.

Love,

shine the world existence,

polish it with your presence,

and a jewel your heart,

the world unfolds origami napkin.

 

A bright box of hope held out in hands,

 tied to hands,

the world becomes a chain-link for higher purpose.

 

one

person

at

a

time...

Many of you have probably heard the word abacadabra. I remember first hearing of it in a cartoon bugs bunny battling a vampire.

It was also made popular in the 70's disco era by the steve miller band with the catch phrase "ab, abracadabra, I wanna reach out and grab ya."

A catchy bassline, and lyrics of sexual provactiveness and  a certain mood of dominion.

However, you would be interested to know, or maybe not, that the word itself takes its origins from an ancient amulet worn around the neck in 2 AD.

Maybe even much further than that.

                                    

 

 Or in its truest form:

 

This was written on an amulet specifically made for the patient, and worn around the neck and recited for nine days.

After this nine days the patient was cured, of whatever ailment was bothering them. They were instructed to actually visualize the ailment much like the abracadabra formula as dissapating from their body and breaking up.

A few points to make before going any further:

The first notice the cone shaped arrangement that this incantation/amulet took. According to tradition, this cone shaped design was purposeful, as this is the way in which energy itself traveled, such as in vortices or whirlpools.

Picture if you can, a whirling tornado, sucking away all the dis-ease out of the body and dissapating it.

We must understand a further root of the word, the word abracadbra appears to come from a much older language, that of Aramaic. Its literal translation: (Avra Kedabra) "I create what I Speak." 

This would give credence to the spell being recitied, in other words I spell my reality, I dis-spell, I untie, I de-knot, I release.

As noted:

a sick patient has been given a medallion that has this spell, literally a series of letters in a specific geometric configuration. The literal meaning of the letters is "By my voice and the intention of my core, I create the reality I precieve in this moment, and in all other moments." On top of this visualization, on a level of concentration that your average attention span dosn't seem to grasp these days, they would visualize the disease being lifted seperated and let go of. Hence the whirling vortex.

Another version or translation also Aramaic in origin is abhadda kedhabhra Or in its literal translation: dissapear like this word.

Of course, this world view of speech creating reality is absolutely absurd,

as we all know, "sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me."

 

OR is that correct?

We'll get back to that...

 

Dr Hans Jenny a researcher and physicist produced hundreds of still photographs regarding this phenomenon of sound and form.

He specifically produced a series of photographs responding to the human language this picture below is the vowell soud "A" in sand.

In other words to move from the abstract, to the concrete, the sound "AHH" made this specific shape, and continued to make this shape everytime The vowell was spoken. Dr. Jenny, recorded his findings in both film and photographic media you can find his research video here:

 

Dr. Jenny found that only the vowell sounds of the english language created whole ratios, shapes and form. The consonants produced nothing but static.

However the combination of consonants and vowells woulod produce a complex standing wave form in the sand.

Thereby showing Dr. Jenny that all words truly do have a form to them, and that they effect physical reality.

Here he is vibrating a plate of quartz sand.

 

OK so you ask the question what does this have to do with sound and abracadabra?

..

 

 

Simply put; heres one example of a research scientist that validates ancient theory that sound creates form.

Here's an interesting article I found correlating this theory even further:

..>..>..>..>..>..> ..> ..>..>..>..>..>..>..>

Black Hole Sound Waves Sound waves 57 octaves lower than middle-C are rumbling away from a supermassive black hole in the Perseus cluster.

..>..>..>..>..>..> ..> ..>..>..>..>..>..>..>

Listen to this story via streaming audio, a downloadable file, or get help. Sept. 9, 2003: Astronomers using NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory have found, for the first time, sound waves from a supermassive black hole. The "note" is the deepest ever detected from any object in our Universe. The tremendous amounts of energy carried by these sound waves may solve a longstanding problem in astrophysics. The black hole resides in the Perseus cluster of galaxies located 250 million light years from Earth. In 2002, astronomers obtained a deep Chandra observation that shows ripples in the gas filling the cluster. These ripples are evidence for sound waves that have traveled hundreds of thousands of light years away from the cluster's central black hole. Right: The Perseus cluster of galaxies. Each fuzzy object is a galaxy. Unseen is a vast cloud of hot gas filling the cluster. Near the center of it all lies a supermassive black hole. ..>..>..>..>..>..> ..> ..>..>..>..>..>..>..> ..>..>..>..>..>..> ..> ..>..>..>..>..>..>..> Sign up for EXPRESS SCIENCE NEWS delivery Earlier observations had revealed the prodigious amounts of light and heat created by black holes. "Now we have detected their sound, too," says Andrew Fabian of the Institute of Astronomy in Cambridge, England, and the leader of the study. In musical terms, the pitch of the sound generated by the black hole translates into the note of B flat. But, a human would have no chance of hearing this cosmic performance because the note is 57 octaves lower than middle-C. For comparison, a typical piano contains only about seven octaves. At a frequency over a million billion times deeper than the limits of human hearing, this is the deepest note ever detected from an object in the Universe. "The Perseus sound waves are much more than just an interesting form of black hole acoustics," says Steve Allen, also of the Institute of Astronomy and a co-investigator in the research. "These sound waves may be the key in figuring out how galaxy clusters, the largest structures in the Universe, grow." Above: Peering into the heart of the Perseus Cluster (left), the Chandra X-ray Observatory detected sound waves rippling through the gas (right). [more] For years astronomers have tried to understand why there is so much hot gas in galaxy clusters and so little cool gas. Hot gas glowing with X-rays ought to cool because X-rays carry away some of the gas' energy. Dense gas near the cluster's center where X-ray emission is brightest should cool the fastest. As the gas cools, say researchers, the pressure should drop, causing gas from further out to sink toward the center. Trillions of stars ought to be forming in these gaseous flows. Yet scant evidence has been found for flows of cool gas or for star formation. This forced astronomers to invent several different ways to explain how gas contained in clusters remained hot. None of them were satisfactory. Black hole sound waves, however, might do the trick. Previous Chandra observations of the Perseus cluster reveal two vast, bubble-shaped cavities extending away from the central black hole. These cavities have been formed by jets of material pushing back the cluster gas. The jets, which are a counter-intuitive side effect of the black hole gobbling matter in its vicinity, have long been suspected of heating the surrounding gas. But the exact mechanism was unknown. The sound waves, seen spreading out from the cavities in the recent Chandra observation, could provide this heating mechanism. Right: an illustration of cavities and sound waves in the hot gas filling the Perseus cluster. [more] A tremendous amount of energy is needed to generate the cavities, as much as the combined energy from 100 million supernovas. Much of this energy is carried by the sound waves and should dissipate in the cluster gas, keeping the gas warm and possibly preventing a cooling flow. If so, the B-flat pitch of the sound wave, 57 octaves below middle-C, would have remained roughly constant for about 2.5 billion years. Perseus is the brightest cluster of galaxies in X-rays, and therefore was a perfect Chandra target for finding sound waves rippling through the hot cluster gas. Other clusters show X-ray cavities, and future Chandra observations may yet detect sound waves in those clusters, too

 

The next time you go dancing or listening to a live concert think about this:

..y.com/k.grant/2004/levitation.jpg">

You are dancing on or bobbing up and down, or tapping your foot  to, a series of waves that are shaped by the rythym, the words, the instruments and the shape of the room and what material is in it what atoms they are made of, what molecular structure and the geometric bonds that either attract repel or nulify completely those waves. Beyond all that if they are miked, or using speakers, what you are really getting transmitted is a magnetic coil coming off a cone. That magnetic cone is a wire of copper.

So we are literally, when we dance at clubs, or events, dancing on and around electromagnetic waves that are being transmitted from the dj/musician to us. 

So you may ask, what does this have to do with abracadabra?

Well, we as a culture, and by we I of course am referring more to Americans, but let's move beyond that to envelope any society that has been westernized and sees capitalism as it's only goal to salvation.

WE as a culture, have created music sound and words for the entertainment and validity of expression.

WE have created a matrix through which we use words.

Words that are slang, vulgar words, angry words, heartfelt sentiment and so forth. We have also created a variety of music.

all of this is great, however, do we as a society know what musci sound and words REALLY are? Are we aware that they are for all intents and purposes as solid and as lasting as the architecture of our homes, buildings and bodies?

The next time you think that your sarcasm or your comment or any other word or noise is not affecting anything, really, think again.

Or the next time you listen to a certain type of music, hardcore, drum and bass, house, hip hop, classical, whatever, watch how your emotions and your thoughts start to change.

Now, you may say, " well I know what that is all about, that's just me, you know gettin into the groove etc." And you might be right.

However, music, and more appropriately ideas are expressed in the physical body through the process of signals and settings in our nervous system.

(By the way, this is a dissected human nervous system)

Every idea, thought or feeling you are bombarded with is transmitted through your cerebral cortex and into your nervous system where it is fired throughout your body

 

and so are certain chemical reactions, these chemical reactions are than sent into the varoius cells for another set of chemical resonance, this resonance sends a signal to the genetic material( DNA) and the process starts all over again, in reverse.

You are a constant flow of electrical activity

(This is a graph of nervous system activity) and chemical reactions, which is a safe way of saying that you are a tree of electricity being influenced every milli-second of your life by the winds of all that you allow to effect you.

 Every element is in a process of disentegration and reintegration

 

. You are every element, made from the solar ash and the earth, and your words, and the words of those around you...

Words are a material, maybe even the prime material.

Sound, music, all these diferent forms are real, physical and effect matter, the morph and change it. Music and sound itself maybe even matter itself, science is in uncharted territory right now we will see if eventually all the ancient knowlege becomes modern everyday science.

Think about this for a moment.

Seldom is light seen as sound.. And yet sonoluminescence or the ability of sound to turn matter into light is being investigated. Here's the following article re: this research:

 

A gas bubble excited by ultrasound turns a tiny fraction of the sound energy into light. This phenomenon, called sonoluminescence, has been observed for decades.

Now, chemists supported by the National Science Foundation have, for the first time, measured the chemical reactions and light emission from a single water bubble excited by sound waves. The researchers, Ken Suslick and Yuri Didenko of the University of Illinois, report their findings in the July 25 Nature.

Ultrasound applied to a liquid causes the formation, growth, compression and collapse of microscopic bubbles in a process called cavitation. These small oscillations can cause intense heat and pressure, similar to the conditions produced on a large scale by explosions or shock waves. This excitation also can cause emission of short flashes of light.

The ability of ultrasound to induce high-energy chemical reactions has been studied for potential industrial and medical applications, such as the breakdown of pollutants and development of medical imaging agents. To harness this process, however, scientists needed to quantify the energy and molecular particles released within a single, isolated bubble.

The Illinois experiment showed that, as pulsating water bubbles collapse, they create temperatures high enough to break water molecules apart.

Less than one millionth of the sound energy is converted into light. A thousand times more energy goes into the formation of atoms, molecular fragments and ions. The largest part of the sonic energy is converted into mechanical energy, causing shock waves and motion in the liquid surrounding the gas bubble.

"Cavitation, which drives the implosive collapse of these bubbles, creates temperatures resembling those at the surface of the sun and pressures like those at the bottom of the ocean," Suslick said. "This phenomenon offers a means of concentrating the diffuse energy of sound into a chemically useful form."

Possible applications include making catalysts to clean fuels, removing sulfur from gasoline, and enhancing the chemical reactions used to make pharmaceuticals. The process has already been used to make new chemical catalysts for industrial use and biomedical agents for magnetic resonance imaging (MRI).

what does that mean?

Well, based on the science of the electromagnetic spectrum, sound is a specific range of vibrations that we are attuned to through our listening faculties: am, fm, radio,etc ..However, through the law of harmonics or a simpler way of explaining it (wave doubling) When you start multiplying the waves you start to move beyond the range of audible sound, and into the realm of color, now this whole process can go on infinitum, observe the diagram below:

 

Do me a favor, next time you walk down the street, make eye contact, gather energy into yourself and beam at everyone you meet, say hello, have a good day, or something along those lines and smile.

 

see what happens to the rest of your day.

After all if words themself are affecting reality, warping it, shifitng it and changing it, than it stands to reason that the slow methodical use of empowerment will empower you.

We are after all in a musical universe.

"Architecture is frozen music"

Aristotle

 

FIN