Music

A Bit of Soliloquy About – Me…

Posted on by Helena

Let’s see/// I’ve dated – an architect, an engineer, a bean trader, a financial planner, a mercenary, an air force veteran, a playwrite, a pharma scientist, a cowboy, an FBI agent, a developer, a truck driver, a salesman, etc… – and yet people ask me to ‘profile the optimal man’.   What the fark?

As my first husband would admit – I am a good person and some people find this offensive because it challenges their own ‘goodness’.   And every ‘bad action’ becomes a point of contention against my goodness or perceived goodness.  I didn’t think turning into a ‘bad person’ to save my marriage was really God’s will.

Not an easy choice by any means, I took with me three young boys ages 5, 2, and 9 months to raise nearly by myself for the better part of their lives.   I make bad choices in men.   A therapist told me I was a walking doormat.   I didn’t much care for her – I thought she must have an evil twin sister and they  pretended to be one another, or else she was simply bat crazy!  Giving her a justification was giving her too much as it turned out.

Yet.   The doormat analysis was not the first time I had been called to the plate.   The first time was by a girlfriend who became an ex-girlfriend.   She basically declared that same analysis – I was fodder to walk all over.   And she did!   Until – I didn’t.

The vast majority of people with whom I have encountered my entire lifetime – I would say are by and large – unfriendly.   Certainly, some feel obliged to be the Great Pretenders, and others are just rather obliquely obsessed with hating my ‘appearance’.

There are curses in every GIFT!

So I prefer the salutary way of being friendly and kind.  I smile and say hello.  I laugh loudly! Smiles are nearly always met with smiles.   It is the antithesis of being flipped off and honked at incessantly for making a road mistake that suddenly is about RAGE and they are willing to literally KILL YOU! Farkalicious!

One would think these were good traits and/or characteristics of a human… but that would NOT be my experience.   Since my ‘coming of age’ I don’t think I have yet to meet a man who didn’t take exception to who I am and immediately enter into a dialogue of how they can make me better, different, and even – most recently – “subject to the authority of their judgement”.   As in whoa thar horsey!

The conversation stemmed when I made the mistake of asking,  “Why would I want to be a registered member of church?  It doesn’t give me any different privileges?”   And the answer I received,  “Because if you are a member then you must adhere to the dictums of the Leaders/Elders of the church within their authority.”

OUCHALICIOUS!   How to really, really support my reticence of ‘joining’ any ‘group’.  Essentially, the point of joining is for them to control me.   Which is akin to putting a bridle on a wild Blue Roan.  Beautiful horse.  They dominated my sculptures.

My first Blue Roan sculpture I named Barnabas.   Suited him perfectly – a young colt, perhaps a year old – still of the youthful spirit!   A favorite.

So I stay to the sidelines and watch and make mental pictures of everything I see.   Like my brain is a camera taking snapshots for me to later pull up on my brain screen to study and analyze.   While this talent came to be quite useful when taking the CPA exam, its usefulness seemed to wane.

I loved sculpting.   Every second I could spend daylight to sundown in my studio working and refining.   The sun was an important ambiance, and so my studio was ¾ windows – floor to ceiling – a small Juliet balcony, and me.   Anatomy was a prerequisite that later made me a snob.   Disproportion that was not purposeful, gained my disrespect for the talent.   Perhaps harsh, but then I am quite a harsh critic of dance having been a dancer.  Career number One.   I know the heart of dance, the soul of dance, the technique of – dance.   And without all three, the dance is bland and uninteresting.

Music is the same.   There are technique afficionada’s who can play to a precise metronome – but lack any heart – and so the soulless music is no different than an elevator drone.  I don’t play to a metronome.   I play when something inside me tells me to go sit down and play.   And so I obey.   Often it is to relieve my soul.   To empty myself of the darkness that is our America.   The realization and the absorption that we are the bad guy is rather – overwhelming.   But ultimately, crawling into a ball certainly does nothing of value – so we have to find how we can be of value.   For me – that evolved into blogging.   Digging.  Researching.   Finding what no one else is talking about.   Uncovering hidden truths.   And of course – analyzing the psychopathic …

I read incessantly.   Almost exclusively psychological thrillers.   An obsessive need to figure out the plot halfway thru or better.  A bit of OCD.

So.  Whatever began this monologue of mine?   I suppose it has to do with my worldly wish that I could once experience the love of a male with the unconditional love I have witnessed in many others.  I know it exists because I have seen it, watched it, reveled in it, laughed with it, and felt such joy in watching it!   So amazing!   I just selfishly would like a taste of that chocolate…

A child of eternal hope I am.   It is not my nature to give up.   I don’t see what purpose that facilitates.   So.   I think now would be a good time to listen to my heart and go play the piano…

Trump’s Destiny Is To Conduct The Orchestra

Posted on by Helena

DESTINY.   Trump’s destiny is designed.   When I was a dancer, we were always told ‘we are an instrument’.  We were there to convey – to emote – and to interpret the music.   Because the music came first.   Trump is an instrument.   His music is the United States.   He is building an orchestra.   That orchestra embodies the United States.   As Bannon declared, we are not a cult following we are the violins, the flutes, the saxophones – coming together in a united Rachmaninoff Concerto!

In God’s world, each of us has a destiny.   None is less important than the other because the Concerto is the goal or end-product.   If one instrument becomes lost, the other musicians quickly and quietly surround this violin and mediate the loss until he recovers, and the music is once again whole.   A constant flow.

Uniqueness was the creation, not perfection.   We can testify that we are each unique – we can also testify that none of us are perfect.   I sometimes liken our individual destiny to ‘gifts’.   Bestowed on us by God.   Trump’s gift is not being swayed by Power.   The Power that corrupts.   Instead, his love for this country and what it represents drives his gift.  The gift of freeing us from tyranny.

Sometimes each of us need to be reminded that we are united.   An ensemble.   It is the Power vacuum that needs us to believe we are divided.   Because their Power under unity quickly dissolves – like the wicked witch of the west – OZ.

When Trump becomes President, he takes the role of Conductor.   And the sheet music for us, the instruments, is Debussy’s Clair de Lune.  Journey to understand the soul.  The My mother spent most of her life attempting to perfect that Sonata.   And alas, so will we now.   Because we failed to tune our instruments properly.   A string broke.  The lights went out and we couldn’t see.   The music was not in our heart, it was on a piece of paper.

In all my years, I have never witnessed an orchestral performance wherein the entire ensemble just QUIT.

Sometimes improvisation can awaken the soul.   Sometimes the violin just needs a little polish.   And sometimes it needs a new set of strings.   If we don’t take care of the instrument, soon it can no longer play.   It is a constant dedication.   But the Power Cabal have no instrument at all.   They are banging tin cups and telling us they make music.   We are told this grating sound is music, to make us believe.  And some do.

But a tin cup is not Debussy.   It is not Rachmaninoff.   It is easily dented.

There is no other candidate whose destiny is to make music.   They play tin cups.

They want to play with the tyrannical Power, not as Conductors, but as Masters.  They fear Trump because he is unifying the ensemble and growing the cast.   Our music will be brilliant!   And theirs will be revealed for what it is when the illusion is broken.   Noise.

When I was a dancer on stage in DC, mid performance I drew a blank and forgot my next move.  I didn’t stop, I improvised while maintaining a report with the music and my fellow dancers.   We finished as an ensemble.   My dad was in the audience.  After our production ended and we went backstage my dad came to congratulate me.   The first thing he said was, “You got lost”.   I was stricken, surely no one had noticed.   But he had.   Then he smiled,  “Good improv.”.

Never stop mid-performance and just stand there.   Never give up.  Never let the music end.   And most of all – NEVER allow tyranny to WIN.  We are an ensemble.   

We Each Have Each Other’s Back Because The Music Never Dies.

PIANO MUSIC: Soothes My Soul

Posted on by Helena

I adore just about anything with Piano, but when it is paired with a virtuoso violinist, the music consumes me!   Like dueling pianos or the rift between a man and a woman.   It takes ahold of my soul.   I love the ‘Build”.   And sends me back to God. Of course I have my preferences;   Debussy certainly.   Not a fan of Baroque.   And while I love the story of Mozart, I am not a fan of his music.   I know I might offend some, but it is simply a personal preference and nothing more.

Being a Debussy fan, other artists that conspire to the consume the same would include; Brian Craine, Michelle McLaughlin.   And of course Chad Lawson.   They – Understand.

Oddly, Debussy’s given name was Achille – as in Achilles Heal of lore. I don’t think there is a one of his pieces I don’t adore.   They just resonate!

I have been a believer that music heals all wounds since a child.   In old world charm, musicians sought to find the eternal soul, the child.

I first heard Elijah on the streets of Arizona.   A military veteran – a young man – a man who seemed steeped in values and ethics – was playing and I ventured to gather his information.   His story is self taught.   His story is a need to release what he saw and was privy to… And – this – is how he succeeds!

He – deserves – applause.

I truly hope you are well my friend…

It seems we are losing Art.   It is becoming some Woke illusion of nothingness and creative minds are clouding, greying.   Where are YOU?

Music helps bring me to a place of rock.   SO I thank you my friends.   It is a truly sad time in history.   May the Lord Bless Me and Save Me and Hold my Soul.   In God’s Name I Pray.