I have surrendered to the idea of living within the mystery. Life itself being a delicate piece of Music constructed note by note. Each person and experience allowing me to become acquainted with the curvature of my heart. And in time or perhaps through it, a song is composed, discordant in places where sorrow is mainlined and promises devoured. And when one least expects it…a spiral in time where solace and peace unfurls. This sounds hella dramatic. Yet, what the bladdy hell does it actually mean?
Every morning upon waking time is spent clearing my mind. What would I like to experience today? Even if nothing significant occurred, how would I prefer to feel? What energy is being shared? Am I able to generate that alone within myself first? The idea of chasing idols like a love junkie who counts kisses has no appeal. I enjoy a good glass of whiskey, rum or tequila…but those are not and will never be my confessional; a place I retreat to when the world and people in it overwhelm. Neither is a beautiful piece of skin.
Music. I think of Music first. The kind I would love to create, the soundscape, the allure of certain instruments, the bare stillness of others. Music, to me, is a space of shared dreams where beauty is the only conspiracy. Beauty of sound, deep feeling and voice. Do you see why my daughter often quips, ‘Mother, you are not really here…’ But just what is here…and why does your ‘here’ and my ‘hear’ have to sound and look the same?
I see the heartbreak hell so many live in, where troubles explode all over their every day lives. Actions are misconstrued. Words become weathered shapes that move at the edges of their vision. And high grade fuckery is the result. No thank you. Every thought is a prayer. All words a spell, and Music more so. Knowing this….I am careful. Select. Measured. Sometimes, staring at the world – mute. Sitting in the corner with my notebook sipping tea.
And then there’s the hedonist who loves to play. That Auriol who shares a glass of rum with her best friend on the dancefloor at 9am, while breakfast is being made. There’s that me who dances until the sun comes up…and leave with a notebook full of great words and phone numbers.
Some are of the opinion that we are here to enjoy the process of creation itself. The idea slowly taking form through time. Solidifying with belief, passion and endurance. Music and my daughter being my greatest teachers. Slowly, the idea of opening my world to another is taking shape. Here, this is my heart. Be as gentle with it as I would be with yours. This is my next act of creation, of active invocation…
Everything in my world is Music. All my friends and family. Every person I hold dear. Every obstacle, and there are many are seen for what they are. They provide clarity. Yet my main goal and objective this time round is known to me. I have decided it will be thus: To create a life where I surrender to desire, to grace. Where I become the Music I was always in search of…