The rain and fog brought memories of grief.
When something familiar suddenly is veiled by layers of cloud and you get lost in your own skin. You notice each pulse is there with purpose and machine-like endurance as it feeds the impulse that stems out of the blue blood and onto the world as reaction. A shaman in BC once told me to "observe yourself." Sounds so simple but it took a lot of time to ever sink in to any practical use. It became an important perspective to adopt. It remains important.
Some days grief just grabs a hold of you and there is nowhere to escape. It felt confrontational. I wrote a very simple lyric from of this place. "Don't let me go and I won't let you go." It acts more as mantra than song. I was broken when it came to me. I remember the moment the melody entered there was a clear exodus of trapped pain. Like a wound that leaves scars, it becomes a part of you. I certainly have mine to share. There are residuals to any healing.
I have been honing in on a unique tuning for a few years now, it seems to demarcate a different phase of life. From low to high, Eb G D G C Eb, it holds a heavy sound in the bottom end and has many mysteries in the upper range. I often get good and lost in this mode. Today was entirely captivating in this tuning. As rain dripped slowly onto the ground around me a natural rhythm set in. I allowed the sound to take a hold of me and do the voodoo. loosening myself into trance or similar type states of being.
