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Month: October 2005

Everything Is Cohesive — The Documentary Featuring Ed Hale and the Transcendence

October 12, 2005

 

Everything Is Cohesive — The Documentary
Journey of Dreams documentary about the musical group Ed Hale and the Transcendence that follows the band around on tour and in the studio that aired on public television in 2004 just before the release of their new CD Nothing is cohesive. Takes a look at past albums and individual band members share stories. Featuring interviews with the band and live footage.

Features band members Ed Hale – vocals and guitar, Fernando Perdomo – lead guitar, Roger Houdaille – bass, Allan Gabay – keyboards, Bill Sommer – drums, Ricardo Mazzi – drums.

Featuring the songs Dreams, Caetano, Sleep With You, You and Me, Jelly Roll, Veronica, Beautiful One, I’m not the only one, I wanna know ya and more.

 

 

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Art and Entertainment, Music, Music Videos, Personal Life, Television ed hale and the transcendence, documentary, interviews, live footage, music video, music videos, songs

Luck or fate

October 9, 2005

Slept in till noon. It is pouring here at the lake house. cliffy cat is doing some carpentry on a picture frame. Boo boo as always is studying some new course she is taking. ‘oh you taking a class in something? how out of the ordinary!’ we laugh. She is always taking a class in something. I am out on the back covered porch, taking in the peace and quiet of the pounding rain. Writing. always writing. and thinking. always thinking.

I sit on the back porch and write, watching and listening to the rain. Soaking it into me. city life is so hard is one of the thoughts that come up. Have to find a way to still live in the city or close to the city but still live outside of it though. I need the woods. I need nature.

Last night I sat with cliffy till the wee small hours of the morning, talking and drinking and smoking in the thoughts till there was nothing left to say. He shared with me his appreciation for our music. how often times there is a transcendence CD in rotation in his car along with all the others. how the songwriting is as good or better sometimes than anything else he listens to, and how much he loves the vocals. ( I still always find myself a bit surprised when people speak about my vocals being good, because I started off as such a bad singer, has taken me years to even consider that I could ever sing well. (and indeed would still contend and do that I don’t sing well, I know.)) How as he purchases each new album from our back catalogue he is always amazed how good we are, how much he loves our work. He finds himself stumped as to why we are not huge, why we are not a household name in the music business. he rants and raves. Throws out his favorite songs from each album… he is a huge music lover. He may own every good album ever made. so it is indeed a compliment coming from a guy like him. And I don’t even mind. I observe with one part of me how the other part of me doesn’t even mind anymore when peeps are complimenting my music. that’s different. It used to make me feel uncomfortable. I even enjoy it. I celebrate in it. I like my music now. I mean, I really like it. i like doing it. I enjoy listening to it. I like that others like it. it all makes me feel good. I even like when other people don’t like it in a weird way. (in fact it is those individuals that steer me to venture into different directions now and then.)

As he ponders the reasons why I haven’t become a huge success after all these great albums I offer that perhaps it is just luck or fate or destiny and not much to worry about. I make enough to keep doing it after all, and with each new album we gain more and more fans, such as himself for example. And besides, I have made a career out of doing exactly what I want to do, never taking any advice from the upper-ups in the biz. That itself could be a big part of it. I’ve just never been as interested in pleasing others or mass success as I have been in just accomplishing my goals artistically, feeding my own cravings and desires. For twenty years now my family and friends have been pressuring me to make just one “commercial” album, but I wouldn’t know how if I tried. I’m not even sure what that means. And I’m not sure it wouldn’t kill me if I did break it down and try to figure it out.

Somehow I have found myself understanding that I have walked through the fire with my music and art now. I am on the other side. I am so ecstatically in love with my music and art now, with my creativity, with my quest to continue to explore it and adventure in it, and to achieve exactly what I want to with each new album, as a complete whole work of art. It is as though, yes, I have walked through the fire. And I stand at the other side, cleansed and rebirthed and shining, just happy as all hell that I do what I do and that I can give myself and a few others these gifts.

We also speak about the importance of releasing albums as whole complete works of art, as zeke and Jodiach and I spoke of the other night as well. how important it is even in the new climate of the business now focusing on singles for radio, that we continue to focus on whole albums as singular works of art. That is why we spend so much time and energy and money on artwork still in our camp. Because we believe in the album as a whole. As a statement. As its own little package, or message. Each song an integral part of the package as a whole. Buck the industry. Fuck the industry. Just keep creating your little world of wonder. That’s my motto.

He then tells me a little bit about his marriage and divorce. Cliffy cat is about twenty years older than I am. I share with him that is one of the reasons why I have never been married. Just never wanted to take the risk of divorce I guess. He shares about how just after he purchased this big beautiful house on the lake in the woods he came home to discover his wife was sleeping with their yard man. how he spent the next six months in shock, sitting on the couch staring into nothingness crying for hours, feeling very alone and betrayed. I can say nothing. I can only sit there and listen and smile and feel with him. yes my brother. being human. Isn’t it a curious and marvelous thing after all. we are indeed the envy of the angels.

As I drift off to sleep this night, I reflect on the weeks earlier events, and my life as a whole, how I have adamantly avoided ever allowing myself to even consider marriage forever to another. How it had/has been as much for reasons of protecting myself from such a fate, as it has been to protect all the wonderful girls I have had the privilege of being with from me inflicting such a fate on them. I would never want to cause pain like that for someone. one day I will be ready for the great leap into the forever unknown. I am sure. But not yet. my heart is too much the adventurer still. always falling in love. I will know when it is time.

Isn’t it curious though I think that in times like that it isn’t so much the missing of the other person that strikes us so deeply as it is the raw feelings of abandonment? For once a person does that to you, you don’t really want to be with them anyway. But you just cannot get over the feeling of being hurt by their callous betrayal of what you considered so sacred. And yet, we are all guilty of this betrayal of another at one time or another in our lives. No one is innocent. No is to blame.

Writing ‘Song for Juno’ right now, for Juliet’s six year old daughter. I first made note to write that song for her and for the upcoming Girls album back in December of last year. it took me ten months to find it in my head, from out in the ethers. I never mind waiting for a song to come. Write down the title and eventually the song will come…

Current read: Meditation, by Sir Thomas More.

 



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Uncategorized abandonment, fate, feeling betrayed, luck, marriage and divorce, pleasing others, work of art

It is so easy to fall in love isn’t it?

October 6, 2005

It is so easy to fall in love isn’t it?

Sdawg’s name has now officially changed to Britney, because she looks like the other Britney if you took away all the makeup, wannabe cool clothes, red state mentality, low-breeding, shallow wanton desperate for attention smuttiness and idiocy. And if she could sing – because Sdawg/now-Britney can sing like nothing you’ve ever heard. Picture Britney the one you know without all of those prior stated qualities that she is so famous for, and picture her in a short dress, a sunflower apron over it, baking blueberry muffins, while whistling or singing, and you have a pretty good idea of the Sdawg/now-Britney that I speak of, know, and love….

An insane night! But first let me fill you in on the pre-night:

First off, fan mail is getting overwhelming, nuts, and crazy. something in the stars perhaps. but the strangest requests. Naked pictures in the mail. Crazy email requests and solicitations as if everyone knows you, is your close personal friend. A barrage that is getting truly un-handleable.

Zeke and Jodiach flew into town today for zekes bday. we all hooked up. Sandina was there as well – who is actually TWO people – the two hottest girls you have ever seen but who happen to be married to each other. Good friends of ours and I think the world of them. and of course wish they weren’t gay sometimes so I could make mad passionate love to each of them. we had some good fun quiet time the five of us. Great times tonight talking about the Miami music scene and catching up. they filled me in on everyone down there and what’s been going on. zeke’s doing some work with Jon Secada and Lenny but other than that there isn’t a lot going on down there right now. Reggeaton is big there now. that’s about it. its not like the old days when there was this great rock music scene. Which is one of the many reasons why I bailed and came here. No where better than here right now.

Jodiach tells me that she now understands my song Vicodin. Before she used to think it was so weird that someone would write a song about a pill. But then she had surgery and she had to take Vicodin and she felt happier than she ever felt in her life. ‘gosh I told Zeke, if everyone could just be on Vicodin all the time the world would be such a happy place… now I understand why Fishy wrote that song…’ my sentiments exactly…

So anyway, I tell them to tell everyone hello down there, and if anyone asks so what’s Fishy doing right now? just tell them that Fishy has lost his mind, that I’m hitting all these karaoke clubs every night with this 23 year old girl; and they will totally freak out and think I’m insane. Is he on tour? what about the band’s new album? How is his TV show going? ‘uh… well from what we can tell, he’s just totally into karaoke now. He’s abandoned his career for karaoke now. Look for his new karaoke tour coming to a town near you soon!’ we laugh our asses off. The thing is that everyone would believe that without batting an eyelid.

O.k. so anyway it is true, after I separate from the group I meet up with Sdawg/now-Britney to hit some karaoke club dive bar on the Upper East Side. It is well past 1am in the morning. We’re in the cab and we are laughing our asses off that we are just starting our evening at well past 1am to hit these stupid karaoke bars. But we are addicted.

We go to the song books and find a bunch of songs and fill in the little sheets and give them to the guy, pissed that there is no Lou reed, no velvet underground, no “somewhere in my youth or childhood, from sound of music’ no ‘some enchanted evening.’ this is a small place. only modern shit pedestrian songs. After that is over, we start drinking, putting on a good buzz while we wait our turn, and listening to the other people up there doing their thing. of course its now past 2am and everyone in there is totally drunk and I mean, who the hell is in a bar at 2am on a weeknight anyway. say no more.

Now bear in mind, Brit is a professional singer. her parents are both singers, majoring in music, her mother a professional singer, being raised singing from the day she was born – her voice is awesome. And me, well, the older I get, the more I realize that I can actually sing a bit. Whether I sing well or not, I’ll never know – I never thought I did, but now and then I think I sound alright; but regardless, at this point, I can safely call myself a professional singer, no matter how good or bad I may sound . So we sit in these bars late at night and we wait our turn and we keep drinking waiting for our turn and as the night wears on we get slightly hammered…. good times… And we laugh and goof off because its just so not our scene that its ridiculous. But we cannot help going. because we love to sing.

We go up on stage when it is our turn and we sing Sorrow by bowie and it is so exhilarating, and the whole place quiets down to where you can hear a pin drop and everyone in the bar looks up on the stage to see what the hell is going on with their mouths hanging open. Who the hell is that up there?! because you know, we’re not Mr. and Mrs. Smith up there hammered out of our minds yodeling away all out of tune… we’re more like pretending to be Mr. and Mrs. Smith raiding these karaoke bars late at night just because we love to fucking sing so much more than anything else. (If there is one thing that I have been negatively accused of in the fucking Nazi-press it has been having a similar voice to Dave’s so me singing Bowie is totally cheating I know. But I can’t help it. its so addictive to sing other people’s songs.)

So we go up and do our thing, but you have to picture this. we sit there and face each other, not the audience or other patrons, and we sing to each other and the whole time we are talking to each other between verses. Sing a verse, “o.k. now you,” sing another verse, “o.k. now you take this one…” It’s hilarious. And we get into it physically and emotionally as anyone else up there does.

So then she does an amazing Crazy by that country singer patsy Cline and all these guys are swooning all over her. I mean, seriously, they are sitting on the stage at her feet, and on the floor of the bar staring up at her holding on her every word… she’s an angel to these guys or something. they are swooning. it really was crazy.

Then we go for Bowie’s Heroes together, which I totally nail but she gets a bit nervous. So the whole time we are talking to each other over the mics, we sing a verse, ‘o.k. now you take this one,’ ‘no I’m too nervous. You do it.’ I sing the next verse, ‘o.k. c’mon try it,’ ‘no, I can’t, you do it.’ ‘no, c’mon give it a try,’ sing another verse…. on and on like that. sounded awesome though. LOVE that song. really I just love to sing any song. love singing.

Right now we are totally dueting everything mostly because I am new at this and get nervous…. but this time she got nervous. Silly and funny right? karaoke can be intensely competitive at times one notices. If you’re a singer and you’re just moonlighting because it’s the middle of the night and you’re getting your rocks off, then who the fuck cares – it’s a goof, but you can tell that some of those people are day-jobbers who at heart are frustrated singers who are really good and they take the shit really seriously because karaoke is all they have and that’s a strange thing, but you can feel it from some of them. Some of the talent is really really good.

So anyway, while I’m singing a little all the way by Sinatra – but I’m totally copping an Ed Hale style, mixed in with a little Bono and Sinatra all at the same time so it sounds cool as shit, some middle-aged geezer is totally hitting on Britney; he’s got his hands all over her. So I jump down and tell him to bog off. I’m like, ‘what is she your girlfriend or something?’ and he’s like ‘no.’ and so I’m like, ‘yeah, I didn’t think so. so get the fuck away’ But he just drunkenly slurs some rude comment. Out of the blue this rage swells in me, so I take this glass of Stella and slam him over the head with it. Just knock him out cold! He falls to the floor out cold. We of course get attacked by the bar staff and have to run out of there laughing our asses off. Won’t be going in there for a few I would imagine.

I can’t believe how guys just hit on girls like that. its crazy. he had his hands all over her. she tells me that she gets that all day everyday from so many guys. I couldn’t imagine what that must be like. I also couldn’t imagine being her boyfriend. I would constantly be getting my ass kicked or kicking someone’s ass if she was always getting hit on like that. it would be maddening. Of course I told her last night, she could discreate it at anytime if she wanted to. after all it is she show is creating it. putting it out there. Brit’s 23 years old, so at that age, who the hell cares. Do whatever you want to. just live the life and enjoy the hell out of it.

What is up with this country and its current heroes? This is the current conversation we shared this evening amongst many groups of different friends as the night wore on. on the tips of everyone’s tongue right now.

Did anyone hear the comment william bennet made? He said something to the effect that we could lower crime in America by aborting all the black babies coming into the world. What a fucking crazy lunatic bigoted asshole. And he’s considered a heroic voice in the republican party.

Bush, rice, Cheney, Rumsfeld, rove, Paris Hilton jessica simpson Britney spears…. what a fucking crazy place our country is in right now… these are the heroes of the day. sad and pathetic and scary. But the question is begged, has it ever been any different? yes, that is the question.

 



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Uncategorized addicted to karaoke, David Bowie, girls getting hit on, this country's current heroes
October 5, 2005

Busy day. then a wine tasting with polar bear and Sdawg in the evening. And then a few songs into a concert of the band Blow up Hollywood, whom I really like. Then off to a karaoke bar with Sdawg who is all of 23 years old but I totally love her. I love our connection. She has a totally easy vibe about her. very real. And sweet. and down to earth. And no bullshit. someone came up to her tonight and asked her in a very typical New York way, ‘is that Marc Jacobs you’re wearing?” and she’s like, “no, its salvation army. Three bucks!” and that’s her in a nutshell. this you have to love. Part of her charm is that she’s this total space cadet hipster chick who walks around in a nun outfit when she feels like it, but she has this other side too, this darker depressive side that is entirely expected for that age and for someone who hasn’t discovered the niche they’re heading into yet. she’s just living the life right now. we sang a duet of don’t let me down by the Beatles which was awesome. I am totally hooked on karaoke right now since our band hasn’t played a show in about a fucking year! As soon as I get back from the weekend we are going to go full on karaoking for days at a time till she leaves for India. I hate that she is leaving for India for a year. but all seasons have their reason. Unless you live in Florida of course and there are no seasons. Then what is the reason for that?

I will certainly miss her though. I love all the girls I hang out with. But my connection with her is the easiest. Right now I’m seeing girls from age 23 to 46 and that’s an amazing thing. that’s something that you dream of in high school and college. no way you could experience that if you were married. So that’s a great thing. part of the real benefit of holding out on the old marriage thing. living the life. like I always say, the only drag about getting married is that its forever. at least in its present incarnation. So that’s something you really have to always try to remember. Hold off for as long as you can till you get it all out of your system. or until something comes along that just knocks you to the ground. Fucking a. what a strange night though. To go from this yuppie wine tasting into a rock concert into a total dive bar singing karaoke with all these crazy drunk Latino locals…

REMEMBER. A WIZARD STAYS WIDENED BACK. BREATHES. SMILES. OBSERVES. FEELS.

‘HHHHMMM, ISN’T THIS INTERESTING?’ UNCONDITTIONAL. WITHOUT EXPECTATION.

MAKES DECISIONS YES. DECISEIVLY.

BUT NOT HASTILY.

ONLY ACTS FROM LOVE.

NEVER FROM FEAR OR ANGER.

SOMETIMES A WIZARD MAY ASK, ‘HHHMMMM, NOW WHAT DO I WANT TO CREATE?’

 



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Uncategorized dating, holding out on marriage, karaoke

Being a gentleman

October 4, 2005

Portuguese lesson tonight with Manuela. One of my favorite restaurants in the city. (who thought of that spelling and ass-backwards pronunciation?! Totally retarded. Is it no wonder that everyone naturally spells that word ‘restaraunt?’ since that’s the way its pronounced. the word Wednesday is the same thing. just totally effing retarded. And in our schools here in retardville the teachers try to come up with some stupid excuse about the words derivation or etymology to explain why the whole country is pronouncing these words the wrong way. Give me a break. Either spell it the way it sounds or pronounce it the way it is spelled. Period. Enough with your bullshit. I remember the day the exact day our teacher tried telling us why Wednesday was spelled was spelled wrong and why we should just accept it. I thought it was bullshit then. and I think its bullshit now.

O.k. enough. But one day mark my words, I am going to hire a small staff to go into a lab for a few months and rewrite the entire English language so it makes sense. This is a promise.

I made this little poem about how retarded English is: “bluff, rough, scoff, cough, dough, tow, go, toe, plough, plow.”

There is a lot of irony in those ten words the way they are strung together. Just absolutely a retarded language when it comes to spelling and pronunciation. Look at those words! certainly linguists have already attempted to tackle English and turn it around… will research.)

O.k. so anyway I’m at this great Italian restaurant eating radicchio drenched in olive oil with Manuela. And she is drop dead. She doesn’t know it, which makes her even better, I mean just when girls are shy like that, there is nothing more repugnant than a hot girl who knows or thinks she’s hot, except a not so hot girl who thinks she’s hot. but Manuela is hot, and she’s totally shy still and humble and gracious and that’s refreshing. We are practicing English and Portuguese together. she is forced to speak to me only in English and I correct her and I am forced to speak only in Portuguese and she corrects me. it’s a brilliant set up. learned a lot. and because we both speak Spanish we can always fall back on that when we need to in order to grab at a word neither of us know in the other’s language. Its great.

Manuela is one of those good girls that you don’t meet anymore. Something out of the nineteen-forties. She’s been with one guy in her entire life, her ex-husband. amazing. great manners. perfect etiquette. She heard me say fuck once and she asked me in her very heavy broken English Brasilian accent “Fishy, do you say words like this?” almost shocked. In fact, she probably was shocked. And I said “no no. I was just kidding.” I don’t think she has any idea who I am. Who Fishy is. I think she just likes hanging out with me, doesn’t know much about me. I think that if she ever read these diaries that she would be truly shocked. Horrified probably. You just don’t meet girls like her anymore. A guy like me could destroy a girl like her because she just has no reference points to know how to deal with or relate to who I am or how I act or the things I say.

From this recent experience with the dove I was again reminded how important it is, this evening especially, to be a gentleman and really be careful in your speech and actions not to lead people on. if its not going romantic, you don’t play romantic. Period. You be a man. you grow up. you don’t play games with people. you are clear from the beginning and you act from that space. from a clean space. don’t blur the lines. Some people do it they say out of ignorance. They think they’re playing clean and they can’t figure out why people are misunderstanding their messages and getting hurt or mislead by them all the time. they swear they aren’t a player, but people keep telling them that they’re a player… other people do it just because they’re fucking vampires and they don’t care about the other. they are just sucking attention or affection for themselves selfishly, whether deliberately or not. Either way, its fucked up. I would say that in the last few years I have gotten really good at being careful about this and not giving the wrong signals if I’m not feeling it. I am proud of this.

I just think that in the end, no matter how many times we say it and think it, and feel it, it still all comes down to ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ if we can master that in this lifetime, we are there. in a nutshell.

New Yorkers are super into sports. You realize that pretty early on. I don’t mean people who live in New York. those aren’t New Yorkers. I mean New Yorkers. People who grew up here. they like effing love the Yankees. Man its all they ever talk about. totally foreign to me. But its kind of fun too the way it seems to bond them together. all you have to do is mention in passing, ‘how was the game?’ you don’t even have to say what game. Everyone knows what game you are talking about. and its instantaneous bonding. That’s New York. just a small part of what makes it such a great place to live and breathe.

Last screening: I finally finished the history of the barbarian tribes documentaries. So now I’m watching all the old Gong Shows. Seriously. I bought the whole freaking collection on eBay. I’m a FREAK. I know. but its so absurd and stupid. you really can’t believe that it ever existed. Chuck Barris is a God-clown.

Current spin: keane, again. and Yupi by Hashimoto. Brilliant!!! Buy it.



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Uncategorized being a gentleman, don't play games, not lead people on

an intense day

October 3, 2005
Oct 3rd
An intense day, few days. Great lessons learned. Absolutely raw though. How can you describe the feeling… raw is the only word I can think of. Naked – pulsing – electric.

Take the already unfathomable events with Cleopatra over the last few months, and then the still lingering undercurrent of separation anxiety from Princess Little Tree that seems to simmer in my soul’s very bottom, at the very back of it all, in the back ground. I long for her at times and feel her longing. dance and sing and jump up and down for me my beautiful Persian Princess and ballerina. Smile for me and light up my world one more time in this lifetime before we part yet again forever. But it’s over. And that is still there whether we like it or not. Happy with our decision certainly, but still a little saddened by it. Awed by it. Appreciative and very loving and supportive of one another. I remain raw from it still, on the edge of it, but in awe of how we handled it. wizardly. But still human with human feelings.

Something else too, something totally weird.
The dove and I soared over the last few weeks. We had developed a deep, almost spiritual, nearly psychic connection to one another – though I had no idea how much so –over the last eight weeks. we had reached a peak on Saturday. We were in deep collaboration with one another on several different levels and platforms. not just regarding our non-profit work, but as friends, and as artists, and we had a very strange kind of spiritually romantic thing happening as well, as much as we both tried to pretend and convince ourselves that we didn’t. It was almost slow motion. Above time. or beyond it.

We poemed each other constantly. Artistically feeding off of one another, off of our passion and dedication to that art and to the art of living life in romance and the dream world that the artist inhabits. It was a daily event. Each of them becoming more and more intense, intimate, and personal. I counted that I had written a total of 15 songs either inspired by the connection, or from poems she had written, in less than a month, from the silly and sappy to the sublime. That was a completely unheralded experience for me. possibly the most intense creative surge I had experienced since the college days when all I did was sit around and get high and write songs and play local shows at night.

But back then I was just a kid, dabbling, learning, honing my skills; still experimenting, a lot of one-offs and throw-aways. These days when I write a song, more than most end up being recordable or releasable, ready to go right onto an album. I’ve learned to distinguish now at least for the time being between the great and the mundane dabble and never give much attention to those toss-offs. The creativity was like bam bam bam. I could pick up the guitar, take a comment she made on the phone in passing or an email or a poem and just run with it and turn it into a finished song by day’s or night’s end. it was intoxicating and I was riding high from it. as a songwriter I was amazed how on fire I was from our connection.

What’s more, she had given me a gift that I never thought even possible. Poetry. Had inspired and encouraged me to study poetry, interpret it, enjoy it, lavish in it, attempt it myself, and find my own poetic voice. Again, I found myself on fire from the experience. Climbing the ladder of learning quickly and enjoying experimenting with finding my voice.

By Saturday we peak in this strange thing that had been steadily escalating for weeks, brought on by madness, dreaminess, and the mixed messages of the oracle. We connect, bond, become one in spirit through this collaboration. We were as one mind. This was a very intellectual thing. we referred to it as a sort of a very fast paced tennis match of the wits that we played together. She would fire off a poem to me in the morning – “listen to this.” and I would shoot one back by afternoon and then she would send a reply poem that night. During this whole time I was also shooting out songs about various aspects of our connection like a factory worker with a gun to his head. Pumping them out as quickly as I had time to. sometimes one per day. every day. Great fucking magnificent songs. Awesome. For me there is no priority more important nor intoxicating than birthing new songs into the world. And this experience was inspiring me to do so more than any other in recent memory.

It went on and on like this for weeks, months. Bam bam bam! Back and forth. We were occupying the same space in another world through this worm hole we had slipped through. But all platonic, very much unspoken, fascinating, inspiring, not physical. And then we are off for the day each going our separate ways. An incredible concert on Saturday as noted earlier. And then to bed by about 1 or 2am.

At some point early in my sleep, I am aware that I am in this uncomfortable sort of half-sleep half-awake state tossing and turning in an uncompromising agony. For four hours I tossed and turned in this agonizing emotional and mental pain unable to fall fully asleep. The feeling was excruciating. I was keenly aware of this understanding that at that moment in time the dove’s heart had left me/us and was with another. I had no idea how close I had become to the dove in spirit. It was as if I could feel her. I mean, as if I was feeling seeing hearing what she was, and I myself was having an emotional reaction to it.

For the next twelve hours I was aware of every breath, every word spoken, every kiss, hug, and touch that she was sharing with this other being that I could feel had suddenly entered our picture. I could feel her breathing for god’s sake. Incredible. There was no question of what I was feeling. I did not question it. I just knew it. and I knew that she knew that I knew it.

By 5am I decided to end the drama, give up on sleeping, and just get up and sit there and breathe and meditate on what was happening. I went into a deep meditation with my own personal God-concept and higher self about the matter. There was no bitterness. Suffering yes. But no resentment. More than anything I was curious. The dove and I had been very clear with one another that we intended to keep our relationship platonic, in the spiritual realm only. But I was not prepared for this intense feeling of dread, loss, or dispossession from her exploration with another in the physical realm. I was firmly aware that she and I both had the right to do whatever we wanted to with whomever we wanted. But it did not make the feelings any less intense or crushing. I was still dating other girls, and assumed she did the same, but the dove occupied almost all of my attention. So this experience came at me like a two by four to the back of the head.

I just sat there alone and quiet and meditated as the sun rose and darkness became light outside my window. Didn’t speak much. Just listened. The messages were profound and simple. The method was simple. I was to hear a message, repeat it aloud, and then ponder it, and if I had to, repeat it several times so I could get the learning and the action if any. I did this until about 10am. Many many messages. Mainly about building discipline and exercising my will in order to be more willful. Was it not a lack of will that got me into this strange predicament? Just letting it all go and being in the moment as always… I was instructed to take the whole thing and feel it, let it go, let it out, and label it. Learn the lessons. Not hold onto any of it. Breathe through it. And continue to listen to and then repeat aloud and then take in the lessons learned from the experience. I was amazed by the whole thing.

I then went to church and had a fantastic experience as I already wrote about, accented by this earlier experience for the last four or so hours. The dove did not contact me. I knew that if she did not contact me on Sunday that the visions of my experience were accurate. For I had turned into the first and last call of the day by that point. So I knew. And I knew that she knew that I knew. and I knew that she was concerned about it, but I didn’t want her to be. what I didn’t know was if she felt that it was o.k. It was important to me to get across to her that it was o.k. I knew that she felt me feel the whole thing, and I knew that she felt concerned about that and felt my pain from it, (just as I go in and out of feeling Princess Little Tree’s pain over my experiences with girls and she feels my pain of her past experiences with men…) but I didn’t know if the dove knew that I was feeling that it was o.k. Pain yes. But a bad thing not.

I didn’t want her to feel bad about it. our lines were drawn. They were clear. we were clear about where we were. It wasn’t like we were fooling around or anything. that’s what was so surprising about the whole thing. I’m not even into kissing girls that I date unless they are the one. And to be sure she was clear with me too. what we were experiencing with one another was something else, way out there. For me, I’ll date as much as I can because its fun. I love girls. I love beauty. but for me, now, the line is drawn there. I’ll date a girl or a series of them on and off for six months and still not even kiss them if I don’t feel like she’s the one or if I’m the one for her. too much trouble. That’s just my own personal commitment. Building honor. Keeping the future sacred. Or better put, projecting oneself into the future so it is the present, honoring that, keeping it sacred, and realizing that there are times when it is important to remember that we are now living in the past of a future-present and it is important now to keep sacred the past of that future- present just as it is to keep sacred the present moment. So we did not have attention on that aspect of relationship. But unwittingly we somehow had created this whole other thing out there in the ethers… I just had no idea how close we had become in spirit. Feeling someone fool around with someone else is a weird thing.

Today we spoke about it. A very open gracious dialogue. I told her point blank what I had experienced and she confirmed the accuracy of the whole thing, and neither of us could believe how accurate it was right down to the very times that everything had occurred. I didn’t even have to ask ‘were you with some other guy?’ I just said something like ‘you were with some other guy.’ and we both just nodded in silence over the phone, in the knowing. Even the times were accurate of everything. Crazy. It was some kind of psychic connection that we had opened and there was no way we were going to be comfortable as long as we kept this worm-holed door open up there/out there in our spirits’ consciousness. She didn’t want to agree because we get so much from our collaboration, but we agreed that we didn’t want either of us to be in pain. and besides, there was no way we were going to create the space, or time even, to be with other people that we really wanted to be with, to create our dream lovers, if we were carrying on in this other way. I told her we needed to close the door for now. Not only that, we then needed to weather-strip the damn door and then caulk and seal all the edges of it and forget about it. The worm-hole, the black hole, needs to close. And so it was. we closed the door. She flew down. I flew down. Back on solid ground.

Uncanny and unbelievable. That’s all I can say. To be so close to someone in spirit that you can feel them fooling around with someone else. Its as if you can feel them breathe. You can feel when they are in pain or in joy. Something I had experienced before, once before from this side and once before from the other side. But in this very mundane and materialistic world that we live in it is easy to forget that these psychic connections can develop between people. that it is indeed a very real thing. it transcends the physical entirely. it is not mental. But something akin to an emotional reaction to something you feel in the spiritual plane. Fascinating.

I feel cleaned from the whole thing. I don’t know, like some sort of cleansing or rebirthing. Learning discipline. Exercising and building the will. becoming more real. Letting the dove fly free out of this unconditional love, similar to the way that Princess Little Tree let me go because she loved me. It is all very beautiful. I am in awe of my life right now.

——————————————–

Today these pictures arrive in the mail from my first real girlfriend from freshman year of high school, The Vixen – yes that The Vixen, the one from the song – and I am overcome by this rush of intense emotion while looking at the pictures. She was the one back in high school. The first of many o.k., but she was the one who got away, literally. Moving to Ohio right when we were in the thick of it. first real making out sessions and all. I could have watched her carry her books through the hallways forever. what a sexy little kitten she was. my first real girlfriend. The Vixen is after all now older and it is a shocking experience. On the outside of the envelope she had written “take a deep breath before you open Mr. Ambassador – you are about to become XX years older.” I just had no idea that we were getting older. But seeing the pictures of her allowed me a window to my own image that I had never allowed myself when looking at myself in the mirror. Wow. heavy. Very heavy for me. fucking just totally heavy.

I’m looking at the pictures and I’m thinking, she is so beautiful still, but my God we really do get older don’t we? Because my last image of The Vixen is this little fifteen year old that I used to spend hours making out with after school. And now she’s older and it was like Bam! Right in my face. Am I older now and just don’t see it? I’m talking to polar bear at HQ for a few minutes about it. ‘we really are getting old aren’t we. This is how its going to happen. before we know it we’re thirty, then we’re forty, then we’re fifty, then sixty and before you know it we’re fucking old. My God. this is really fucking happening. we are aging and there is nothing we can do about it.

I decided to walk the city. I walk the parks. I walk and I walk and I walk. I am walking around raw, naked, burned, fazed out, numb from too much feeling from the last three days, a glaze in my eye… I feel like John Cusack in one of his weird gen-x movies from the nineties… the lone gen-x’er walking the city streets in the middle of the movie when the sad song is playing… confused raw vulnerable burning shocked amazed. Where are we? Who are we? Are we really growing older? My thoughts racing. My God. we are growing older. It is slow but it is undeniable and unmistakable and inevitable. The horror revealed right before my eyes with a picture of an old flame standing there looking so pretty but older with her husband and three children. Was she the one? did I fuck that up? Was I supposed to chase her all the way to Ohio at my tender age of fifteen and tell her I wanted to marry her? God I would have had to take a bus. I didn’t even drive yet! The audience laughs. And me still roaming around the earth like a nomad living day to day for the exotic adventure and various intoxicants of a life well lived and ravaged and fully taken advantage of. O.k. well that part has been great, lets face it, we’ve lost nothing by holding out on marriage, that’s for sure. But seeing her picture there made me think….

And the dove? Wow. what kind of a trip was that? What the hell was that? where did it come from? who was she? Why did it get so intense? Have we sealed the trap door? What the hell was that about?

My thoughts return to Little Tree. Dance for me sing for me smile for me one more time. I picture her in my mind dancing in a puddle of water and giggling like a little girl…. it is Easter. My heart is singing from her image….

But I come back to reality quickly. I am stinging. Stung. Undone. I am shaken. Quaked. Baked. Taken. Laid to waste. Exhausted from feeling. And what about that girl in church with that long perfect body and grace and elegance and that silky-shiny long dark brown hair who was sitting just a few feet in front of me. How do I talk to her? Is it money is it fame? Is it will? is it discipline? Is it confidence? What do I need to do to win her heart? How do you even approach a girl like that? How much richer more famous popular happier successful do you have to be? Who am I now? Will I ever get the girl? How does the movie end?

I kept reminding myself, “This is life. I am living life. This is what living life is… this is the middle of the movie. You are playing the lead role, man that’s cool. You are the character who started off on top of the world kicking his heels and dancing in the streets and singing at the top of his lungs in the opening credits, who has now in the last hour or so been delivered a series of shockers and surprises. You are now walking the city streets in the bright sunlight of a beautiful New York City day in shock, experiencing the life that we all experience here. Being human. The envy of the angels. The sad song is about to end and you will go back to your day to day. Breathe. The movie is not over yet. we still have at least another hour to go. this will be a happy ending movie. You’re a gen-x’er after all. This is a gen-x movie. This is going to be a happy ending fucking movie Fishy. You’ll see.”

Oct 2nd
Went to an incredible concert last night. Tereso came up from Miami to play five shows in two days. Infinito is playing drums with them right now. they were awesome. I will see them again tonight and meet with them to see what I can do to help them with the record company. I would love to be of assistance. They just humbly rocked their asses off and won the crowd over to near exhilaration and this was in a real shit hole of a bar where they couldn’t even fit on stage. Imagine what they could do on a real stage. I love the idea of owning the record label. Just not sure if there is any money to be had in it. Its running at about a half a million dollar loss right now. if one act breaks big, I would theoretically get all that back and more. But if no act ever breaks, then I continue to live with that loss and more as the years continue to pass.

The biggest challenge now to making money with a record label is not in the recording or manufacturing or releasing of a CD or album. Anyone can do it. I would have no problem signing every artist I dig and releasing their CDs for them. the challenge is in all the money a label has to spend to get the music out to the people, and then to get the people to want to actually spend money on it. People, all of us, I included, have no problem spending 5 bucks for a cup of Starbucks or a jamba juice, or twenty to forty bucks for a lunch or dinner. But try to get someone to spend ten to fifteen dollars on a CD and you’re in for a tremendous challenge. Just look at any of the starving artists you know struggling to make it week to week. we all know at least one, if not a few. If you know me, then you know one. I’ve been struggling with it for some fifteen years. Every now and then I get lucky, but for the most part I am still a struggling artist.

[I had and continue to have this realization whenever I see glimpses of the MTV music awards and realize that these are the artists that the majority of the mainstream masses consider current artists on the scene, when real music lovers don’t even own or buy most of this music – there are exceptions of course, such as Dave Matthews or beck or coldplay – but the real great music being made out there and collected and talked about passionately by hard core music fans is totally unheard of by the majority of people. totally unrecognizable names except to a few passionate few. This is the great contradiction of the music business today. The good stuff, the challenging and stimulating and brilliant and experimental stuff is underground because it’s so under funded and the real pedestrian and predictable stuff is out on top.]

Even the once-big names out there, people like Donovan or KC or genesis or pat benatar or styx and on and on — you know the ones – there are many more artists who were once big who we now haven’t heard from in decades than there are artists who were once big who we still hear from all the time… and this isn’t because they stopped making music or retired; you think the once awesome teen idol Dion wants to be retired down in Boca Raton doing nothing and NOT be making music? or that Dionne Warwick wanted to be the spokesperson for some psychic hotline? Probably not. It’s because the industry itself just decided to stop paying attention to them or the record buying public just decided to stop buying their product. It would seem to be a terribly frustrating career to enter into. but people still flock into it. who doesn’t know someone in a band or wanting to be in a band. funny stuff.

So the idea for me now of continuing to own a record label and continuing to sign artists that I believe in is something I am still struggling with. The prospect of continuing to spend tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars on these artists who are all totally awesome each in their own right at the hope that one of them will hit big to help pay for the rest of them is quite a daunting challenge. Something I am struggling with to be sure.

But last night as I was in that club and rocking out hard and banging my head hair flying everywhere to this roaring thunder of this Latin rock band Tereso… man I was just so overcome with this desire to grab that music and that image and put everything I had into it and help them out as much as I could. That’s the power of rock and roll. That’s the power of music. But one has to be smart too. Not every rock band is going to be aerosmith and not every rap artist is going to be p diddy. In fact, those are the exceptions. And that’s just the harsh reality of it.

————————————————–

Still experiencing some kind of a spiritual transformation. A powerful experience where there is this profound understanding and feeling of a God-force entering my life more and more. Connecting with me. Talking to me. Communicating with me. It is uncanny. And it is undeniable. I prayed about it a lot for the last six to nine months and unbelievably it is slowly growing more and more each day, much to my amazement. Last night I tossed and turned all night. A very restless non-sleep for most of the night. By 5:30 am I just decided to stop the madness, get up and sit and write and be in the moment rather than lie there with these crazy thoughts rumbling in my head.

Once up, I sat there and I was overcome by this presence in my heart and this voice in my head — soft, loving, kind, gentle, peaceful, wise, strong, willful, knowing. Guiding me, giving me advice. It was an epiphany. One of many lately concerning this matter I will admit. But no less astounding or rewarding or surprising or revealing.

Now obviously the biggest concern here as others point out as well is the understanding that people like evangelist Pat Robertson and others, Bush cohort Osama bin laden, al queda and various Muslim terrorist groups, the Israeli military, and even GW bush all claim the same thing… to have this communication with a God-force. That should be cause for alarm for any thinking person because of the dubious actions they take in the world. words are one thing. feelings another. Actions another. One’s convictions and loyalties are blatantly obvious by one’s actions, regardless of what they say. Granted. A tough one. Indeed in a recent monthly newsletter the minister at our church wrote “it is hard to believe that the current administration claims to speak and listen and pray to the same God that we do. That is something I struggle with on a daily basis.” Yes that is something we all struggle with.

But the feeling that I am experiencing is something that is undeniable to me now. But it is not a voice of murder as the others noted above seem to receive from this God-force. But a voice of peace and love and acceptance and tolerance. I wonder where the disconnect is for the others? How does the voice of this God-force get twisted in the mind of others into a thought of murder rather than love and peace?

Studying history madly for the last fifteen years and I have learned as we all do that there have always been those among us, the barbarians, historically called “the leaders or governments or churches of civilization,” who claim to be receiving advice to murder from “God” or from some God-force. Ever since the idea of monotheism or this ‘one God’ concept first came into being in human consciousness with Abraham and the Jewish people, there has been a tendency for those wielding the most power and strength to use this concept for evil. So its no wonder that there are many throughout history who are adamantly opposed to the idea, such as the communists. What good have they ever seen in humankind’s history to give any clue that the idea of God is a good one for us? the answer is unequivocally “none. Absolutely no good.”

From the Jewish people who invented the ‘one God’ concept and the commandment ‘thou shall not kill’ and who then turned around and continued to kill, even going so far as to kill Jesus himself – an insane irony there in that one — to the roman empire thinly disguised as something they renamed “the catholic church” to the invading Muslims to the Spanish Inquisition to the Crusades to the Russian Tsars to the evil plotting imperialist British Empire to the Pilgrims and European Settlers of the Americas in more recent times, all of the most evil murdering fuck-head bastards throughout human history have always claimed to have direct communication with this “God” and to have a divine right and authority to kill and enslave other people… all in the name of this “God.” So one should be very wary of anyone who claims to be speaking with any God or God force or God concept. Immediately suspect.

So there is inherently a nagging seething bitter conflict there between what is at the heart of religious doctrine and how it is acted upon by those claiming to be its followers. If one is a devout Muslim then one is in shock and horrified by the actions that took place on September 11th in this God’s name. If one is a devout Christian or Jew then one is in shock and horrified at the actions that have taken place to the Afghani and Iraqi people in the name of this other God. (though they are the same God). So that’s the conflict. That’s the contradiction that puzzles and confounds the hearts and minds of every thinking religious person.

And it is easy to find oneself repelled and repulsed by God, or by any God-concept because of this. History has taught intelligent peaceful loving people to hate this God concept more than anything else because of the atrocities committed in his/her name. I know this. I am deeply aware of it and in touch with it because for many years I loathed the God-concept. And could care less about God. Precisely for these reasons. What was the good in this God-concept with us going to church every Sunday and praying to this God when we were in Vietnam killing millions of people in his name to “fight communism.” Right? I mean, its right there. there is absolutely nothing that a religious person whether Christian Jew or Muslim can say to defend the goodness of God or the God-concept. Because for the most part its just always been used for evil.

And yet, underneath it all…. there is this conflict of how in the face of all of this that there can still be such joy peace love and comfort in this experience known as religious or spiritual conversion. I would dare assert now that I have found it to be the most important and joyful and miraculous experience of my entire life…

This morning while I was in church, I was in deep prayer as always, but this time much lighter, a more elegant prayer, and it was precisely this that I was praying about and dialoguing about with my own personal idea of God. But today I listened more than any other day. Rather than speaking a lot.

God asked me ‘What message do YOU receive from me?’ and I answered, ‘love and peace and acceptance and diplomacy and tolerance.’ And God smiled. ‘So do you understand?’ and my answer was ‘well perhaps… but not really…’ ‘Is that o.k.?’ he asked. ‘yes it is.’ I answered. And then this remarkably simple answer: ‘Fishy, it is not something to understand. For it is beyond understanding. For thousands of years the God-concept has been so convoluted by humankind that there is no way to understand it. You must let go of the desire for UNDERSTANDING and allow the KNOWING. In this there is the understanding.’ And then I smiled.

And I felt lighter and freer then I could almost bear. I felt lifted up and high from it. felt as though I might lift up out of my seat. Tingly, sparkly, elated. In complete contact with this higher power. I dedicated the whole service and indeed this entire day to this wordless knowing. I felt as though the Ambassador had returned. Finally. It has been a long hard road. but somehow I felt as though I was returning to find myself again. my brain has finally been balanced by my heart. I have taken God back, and in return God has taken me back. I believe that is what we know as ‘grace.’

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Uncategorized growing older, living life in romance, Persian Princess, poetry, psychic connection, unconditional love, writing songs

“well the theory is that the soul is eternal…

October 1, 2005
Oct 1st
I receive a letter in the mail:
“well the theory is that the soul is eternal and on its path to evolvement sets up all kinds of experiences and contracts to finish with old issues with people life time to life time in order to clear itself of attitudes and filters that are limiting the current life time.
that we carry forward psychological predispositions and emotional and physical residues is well documented in the work of doctors all over the world using these processes to alleviate difficulties in current relationship, illness, fear, and phobia areas of life.
the process of accessing the past is so simple, clear and clean cut once one sees the set up from past experiences that ninety percent of the time their healing is spontaneous.

regression to current life events is also revolutionary in healing unhealed issues. but when one stays stuck in an illness like i have where i can only manage to discreate it for periods and then it pops back in, i recreate it, or stays stuck in this life’s traumas, it is very helpful to see the precursors from other life times that would have inclined the soul to recreate it again to learn to deal with it in a more effective way.

often just reviewing a few lives where the events set up the residue for this life’s patterns is enough to gift the patient with such a depth of understanding that they have instant resolution with the events and people seen from a higher objective position of lifetimes of injuries that have yet to be dealt with and so are recreating lifetime to lifetime.

there is nothing to prevent one from simply doing this on their own from the source self or observer self and gaining this universal philosophical perspective and finished up their anguish or repetititive patterns at all. I have done so with illnesses and gotten a handle on several of them and a spontaneous healing to prevent a surgical event with another one I created. it is pretty amazing work.”

Sept 30th
Hanging with the boys from upstairs this weekend when I can. I love hanging with kids. Have to find a way to incorporate that into my life more. hanging with more children. They are awesome. so loving and innocent and fresh and clean and clear and happy.

Last screening: four hour documentary called the History of the Barbarians. Learning about the Huns, the Mongols, the Goths, the Vikings, and the Bush administration. Good stuff. Learning a lot.

Sept 29th
Well it’s official. Looks like winter is already here. Just decided to go right from summer to winter. No autumn. Not even October yet and we’re waking up shivering. Have the space heater out. I have written a little poem about how I feel about waking up freezing cold already and how few months we actually got to be warm here:

Fuck this cold
Fuck this fucking cold place.
Fuck fuck
Fuck fuck
I’m fucking freezing and
It’s still fucking September.
Can we get a fucking fall please?!
Fuck fuck
Fuck fuck
God am I fucking cold
This fucking sucks.
Fuck this cold place.
How can people fucking live here.
Fuck.

That should do it for now. might need to tweak it a bit. Haha.

Anyway, woke up this morning thinking more about what we were speaking about yesterday. The whole strengthening the will and discipline muscles concept. More and more and more thinking about it.

Meantime 32 square miles of fires are ravaging southern California. Knee deep in the apocalypse.

Always a lot of talk about indi rock these days. but all the popular indi rock bands are on major labels with 3 million dollar budgets. (that’s an accurate figure – in fact most label guys will admit its closer to 5 million) So how indi rock is that? Maybe indi rock is just a sound anyway. maybe it has nothing to do with being independent or not. but when you think of indi rock you think of bands like dinosaur Jr. or pavement or guided by voices…. or even the velvet underground.

Last screening: History of Islam documentary. Good stuff. learning a lot.

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A private little world for me… a private little world for you. The online journals and musings of singer-songwriter author and activist Ed Hale. The Transcendence Diaries have been posting regularly online since 2001. Comments are always welcomed. And so are YOU.

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