Tips for Meditating

• Don’t Force your eyes closed

If your eyes want to be open or wander, let them. Don’t force yourself to do something just because it’s what others do

•You don’t have to be smiling

If your face doesn’t relax into a smile don’t make it. Let your face in it’s most comfortable position

•You don’t have to be sitting up straight

Be comfortable. If that’s standing, laying, or an awkward jumble of limbs, what ever is comfy

• Surround Yourself with/Hold items that bring you comfort or joy

Trinkets, gifts, items that hold memories, what helps you relax

• Listening to music is allowed

If a rhythm helps you relax of help you control your breathing, or if focusing on lyrics helps to stop your mind from wandering, listen to it (I personally listen to Hozier or Avi Kaplan)

Sympathetic improviser, modal mystic, and experimental soundscaper Landon Caldwell unveiled a new project earlier this year in collaboration with Moon Glyph, which saw the artist remotely leading an amorphous collective called Flower Head Ensemble. The result was a stunning display of ambient jazz spirituality, built almost entirely from chance and guided by pure intuition. Indeed, to craft the three slabs of sonic delirium occupying Simultaneous Systems—as well as the two side-longs on the Companion Environ tape released recently on the artist’s own Medium Sound—Caldwell sent each of his collaborators morphing and minimal soundbaths, over which they added sax, drums, strings, synth, and mallet instruments completely independently of one another. With this cache of primordial sonic matter, Caldwell then sculpted and shaped extended pieces of ethereal beauty and esoteric magic…pieces that feel so complete, and move with such grace and purpose, that it is hard to believe the contributors weren’t all in the same room riding the vibe together. Sounds merge and combine effortlessly, with vibraphones gleaming, horns screaming, and drums moving mysteriously underneath, sometimes rustling through windswept whispers, other times exploding into chaotic free jazz cacophony. Organ drones, e-piano dreamspells, polyphonic pads, and alien Moog modulations swim around in drunken seas of ether, flowing back and forth between serenity and intensity, and through it all, string instruments pluck, saw, and sigh, with tones ever-obscured by blinding glimmers of feedback. The result is something akin to both free and spiritual jazz, but that also takes in psychedelic minimalism, drone-based ambient, and experimental post-rock, with an overall feel that—at least to my ears—wouldn’t be out of place in the catalogs of early Kranky and Constellation, VHF, and of course, the legendary ECM. 

Landon Caldwell & Flower Head Ensemble - Simultaneous Systems (Moon Glyph, 2021)
At the start of “Reaching Out,” bell tones and trap kit motions decay through cavernous spaces, while the echoing horns of Mac Blackout (alto sax), Tom Lageveen (alto sax), and Nick Yeck-Stauffer (trumpet) spin romantic fanfares before swelling into ecstatic walls of sound. Chimes twinkle within the droning miasma, and subtle themes begin taking shape, with horns blowing in unison, plucked strings riding phaserwaves, and keys letting loose smoldering blues incantations. Tambourine splashes and sleigh bell shimmers grow in strength as bowed instruments generate blinding sprays of feedback, and having disappeared for a stretch, the horns eventually reemerge, with trumpet and violin singing songs of elegiac Americana in a way reminiscent of Jackie-O Motherfucker and their free folk/jazz odyssey Fig. 5. Bass synths accent Thom Nguyen’s drums as they sputter in the shadows, with tapped rides radiating golden vapors, and rimshots interspersing with junkyard percussion. K. Dylan Edrich’s strings continue asserting themselves through layers of splattered rhythm and dissonant synthetics, and at certain moments, the vibe is akin to the mighty orchestrations of Godspeed You! Black Emperor, only as if playing a shambling drone paean to the spirits of sun and sky. Brass swells bleat and blear into shamanic fire…into a purifying light that descends over an unsettled sea of organ droning, with tones otherworldly in their abandonment of melody…like waves of rainbow light mutating and modulating through a ceremonial storm of improvisation. Something approaching a defined drum beat emerges, with cymbal sizzles holding a count and broken kick and snare patterns ever-evolving. Trumpet and alto blow cosmic mysteries across the spectrum as the vibe approaches abstracted noir…like viewing a sunset cityscape through a fever dream fog. The rhythms continue their active ascent as Nguyen rolls around the kit in a physical display of force, and all the while, phasing keyboard chords grow ever more distorted…as if threatening to pull the track towards the sinister. Yet the horn trio contrasts the darkness with purifying baths of sonic light and longform melodic mysteries that eventually fade to nothingness. And by the end, all that remains are boiling bodies of organ drone and cymbal taps that sparkle like diamonds.

“Life Underground” opens the B-side with chords reducing to a metalloid haze, and repetitions of noise that are at once harsh and soft. There is a vague air of melancholy underlying the introductory movements, and eventually, gemstone keys reflect the light of a creeping dawn. Liquid swells wash the mix clean and waves of deep droning blue cascade over the body while alien fluids drip all around, and as Edrich’s strings fight again through layers of blinding drone, wild winds whip up a roaring vortex of sound. Keys evoke childhood music box meditations, rapidly bowed strings flutter like insect wings, and subsuming midtone drones push towards feedback while horns swell in the distance…their majestic melodies and waves of warmth uplifting the heart. Viols morph into displays of solar light and Yeck-Stauffer alights on shrieking solo adventures…his slithering and slip sliding trumpet leads moving in and out focus amidst resonant bell tones and the monosynth buzz of Mark Tester’s Moog. A symphony seems to swoon in the background ether as pounding bass patterns emerge, eventually revealing themselves as a sub-oscillator seance, wherein pitch and frequency modulate according to some unknowable logic. All the while, horns harmonize high in the sky—though their tones are obscured by blasts of galactic detritus—and as a final swell of synthesized starlight beams down from the heavens, the track breaks apart in totality.

The transition between “Life Underground” and “Woven Realm” is essentially seamless, and from the scattered silences of the former emerge the skroning saxophonics of the latter, which soar and scream through echoing corridors, resulting in an extended soliloquy of free jazz fire music. Keys begin letting lose blankets of mysterious arcana in the background, with subdued percolations evoking a lullaby dance through a sea of shadows. Sickly organs swell into a growing body of cacophony that is interspersed by beams of psychotropic radiance, with tonal drones sliding up and down while string instruments mimic theremins. As things progress, another holy soundbath emerges, featuring blissful waves of dissonance, phasing rotations, and the enigmatic dances of bowed strings and blown brass. Cymbal taps grow into stormclouds of metallic haze while elsewhere, Nguyen bashes, smashes, and crashes with reckless abandon, seemingly utilizing every square inch of his kit. And anchored to this kinetic display of rhythmic mesmerism is a glowing cloud of sonic serenity, wherein horns, strings, and synths evoke some mystical ceremony…some ritual of astral ecstasy that builds and builds towards transcendence before flowing away into an outro of seasick keys, woven brass patterns, and twinkling mallet tones.

(images from my personal copy)

I am excited to dive again into the sonic world of Aural Canyon, and my focus this time around is on the Palo Santo tape recently released by Remember Ecstatic Duo. The project is comprised of Kristine Reaume and Michael Sharp, the former a highly skilled flautist and botanical healer, the latter a far-ranging explorer of experimental and aggressive music who, in his solo work, delves deep into kosmische, space rock, acid folk, and drone. As well, both members are great friends of mine, and as much as I dislike using this blog for any sort of self promotion—preferring instead to foreground all the amazing art that inspires and sustains me—I see no way around mentioning Sungod, a psychedelic sound collective whose central core is comprised of Reaume, Sharp, and myself (along with a gifted multi-instrumentalist named Nick Lombard). Across Sungod’s existence, we have touched on new age music, spiritual ambient, minimalism, and strains of Berlin School from the late 70s and early 80s, and it’s from these same wells that Remember Ecstatic Duo draw their inspiration. However, their work is not some mere extension or side project of Sungod, and is instead a fully formed and separate entity that, in addition to the aforementioned aesthetic influences, draws on a deep sense of connection between Reaume and Sharp, stemming from their marriage, and from their parenting of a wondrous child. Indeed, as Sharp himself puts it, “[Palo Santo] represents a journey through how our love has blossomed, and how our focus on each other has enhanced and grown with our family.” What results then is a mesmeric collection of meditative sound sourced from two interconnected spirits, wherein Sharp’s polysynths generate droning dreamscapes, sequential starscapes, breathing blankets of metallic shimmer, and infinite expanses of underwater incantation while Reaume’s flutes dazzle and dance through tape echo oceans and cosmic corridors of reverberation…sometimes executing melodic progressions of romantic wonderment and magical fantasy, other times devolving into pure atmospheric experimentation.  

Remember Ecstatic Duo - Palo Santo (Aural Canyon, 2021)
The album opens with “Estuary” and its primordial invocation of resonance and feedback. Glimmers and shimmers move in the distance and through the layers of pure harmonic motion, Reaume’s flute enters…like an emerging dawn teasing out tendrils of sunlight. Spiritual note cascades decay from infinite mountain tops and a synth sequence percolates in slow motion through the background, with a vibe less kosmische, and more so oriented towards the mystical minimalism of Terry Riley, Don Cherry and Bitchin Bajas. Reaume continues flowing and glowing overhead, her long billowing blows producing celestial sound threads that wrap around each other, while her pauses leave space for otherworldly pads and sequencer patterns to merge in totality. As everything continues to melt through banks of reverb and delay, further sequential structures enter the stereo field, producing blinding displays of solar vibration that grow increasingly intense and subsuming. At some point, the minimalist bass sequences slowly disappear in a sea of echo as the flute transforms into gaseous ether, and eventually, all that remains are insectoid sparkles moving at hyerspeed through a sea of tonal drone. “Blindfolds” flows seamlessly out of “Estuary” and sees synthesizer drones taking on a metallic edge…these cold and spectral mirages that move around the periphery. Slow motions oscillations zoom back and forth, looping cycles are disturbed by delay pedal manipulations, and searing screams of fuzz intertwine with abstracted layers of woodwind experimentation, with the whole thing cutting the difference between early Pelt and later Natural Snow Buildings. Resonances grow in strength and sub bass clouds bloom then decay, causing the soul to vibrate at mysterious frequencies. And as disturbing currents of sound spiral towards an unseen center, filtered fogs of feedback hover in place while changing constantly in pitch and timbre.

The A-side concludes with “Stratospheric Clouds,” wherein phaser-blasted chord drones swim around the spectrum. A gentle and child-like sequence enters alongside trilling flute melodies, with a vibe evoking a meditative meadow, over which the titular clouds drift and dance. Reaume’s flute hooks are so peaceful and joyous as they ride a naïve kosmische bounce through wavering cascades of galactic keyboard magic, and in the distance, electronics evoke dripping crystal liquids. Further saw-wave sequential harmonizations join in and Reaume continues her sprightly springtide dance high above, the result a synthesizer and woodwind soundbath perfect for scoring listless days spent in flower fields…lying on your back, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the vibrant energy of the natural world all around. At some point, the sequences begin drifting away, leaving space for melancholic chords to decay through echo, with sounds progressively disturbed by garbled fluids. As well, the flute grows ever more abstract as the layers of delay and reverb increase in presence, resulting in granular wavefronts sourced from breath and sibilance. “Lachrymose” opens side B with squarewave tones decaying through a feathery bed of echo as they generate vibes of ocean floor entrancement. Decaying notes pool together into slowly moving vortices of cerulean sound and Reaume’s flute blows low and far away, sometimes blending completely with Sharp’s aqueous atmospherics, while at other times spreading outwards into flows of melodic melancholy. The mix progressively thickens while growing more intense, and multiple flute layers seem to emerge from nowhere as they blow over and around each other, creating waves of harmonic dissonance in the process. A strange sequencer bounce is discernible beneath it all—constructed from subearthen rumbles and tectonic flutters—and as Reaume continues letting lose fantasy incantations beneath melting streaks of galactic glass and laser-light feedback arcs, her playing is dark, warm, and slightly overblown.

A baked Berlin school sequence seeps into the stereo field in closing track “The Permeable Nature of Things,” and blurred chimes float towards the heavens, carrying with them airy wisps of woodwind. Reaume’s wondrous melodies paint the air in understated hues, with attack and presence sanded away to leave a warming cloud of new age tonality. D50 bell tones join the futuristic fairy dance as it gather strength, and twinkles of starlight add further motion and magic to the mix. Another sequence soon fades in—both accenting the foundational synth pattern and giving the track a sense of propulsive motion—and what results is a classic kosmische starscape in the late 70s mold…the kind of thing you’d hear in the early days of Innovative Communication and specifically, on the first few albums from Software. Arpeggiated patterns race around each other…their effect like seafloor gems sparkling in the ocean-filtered sunlight…and a gradual give and take between flute and keys emerges, with the flute at times taking lead and spiraling towards sky, while other times backing into an muted purr as chiming tones dance with reckless abandon. Another woodwind soon enters the scene, so that in one ear flows high-pitched fairy melodies sourced by a standard flute, and in the other, sensual drone breaths provided by an alto. A semblance of percussions works into the stereo field, with tambourines jangling side-to-side and tom and snare hits ricocheting off the walls of the mix…the merging of primitive kraut rhythmics and dazzling sequential constructions calling to mind mid-70s Klaus Schulze. The mix seems to wash out periodically, with elements drifting from each other in time until the rhythmic pulse is lost entirely. And once drums and sequences fade away entirely, what remains is a glorious expanse of aerophone enchantment, wherein Reaume blurs the line between organic and electronic as her intertwining and heavily effected alto and standard flute melodies morph into synthesizer-esque soundtrails. Eventually, a looping keyboard phrase fades in to re-establish a barely-there flow, and as the track comes to a close, the duo’s immersive fantasy landscape is washed out by blooming feedback resonances and wisps of phaser.

(images from my personal copy)

Hello Loves,
Yoga is a magnificent practice that can be performed anywhere.

It’s universal, it reaches across all cultures, languages, and countries. It can be practiced independently in the comfort of your home, outside in nature, or in a room full of people.

Once you become familiar with some basic yoga poses and routines, which I will explore in a future blog post, the practice and weave itself into your daily schedule. You don’t need to go to a yoga studio every time you want to practice yoga, you must learn to decide what’s better for your body and not what may seem better according to your mind. If you decide that doing to a yoga studio is too tedious and expensive and you would rather practice it in your home then your probably thinking about creating your own personal yoga space. I’m here to help you do it.

Location:
Before you start planning what you need for this yoga space you need to decide on a location. Space will decide many things for you and you don’t want to buy anything you won’t use or have space for.
You must choose a room or area in which you know you won’t be disturbed and can relax in.
If you have an outdoor space and live in an area with nice weather then outdoors would work wonderfully.
Locate an area on a flat surface. Having a flat and study surface is the key to balance and preventing and yoga injuries.
Keep in mind to pick a place with light. Sure you can put a lamp statistically anywhere but natural light is always filled with good vibes and may help with future tension.
Pick a place that feels right for you!

Yoga Supplies:
Here I have a simple list of things you may already own that you would generally need to practice yoga in the comfort of your own little space.
   1. Yoga Mat
   2. Yoga Towel
   3. Bolster
   4. Meditation Pillow
   5. Strap
   6. Yoga Blocks
Not too bad now is it? Most of these items you can easy purchase for a cheap price online or in-store.

Personalizing Your Space:
Here is when it all comes down to you. This is your yoga space so decorate it how you desire. Get creative! Here is how I decorate my yoga space.

Paper lanterns have always been a necessity for me, they are simple yet gorgeous. You can also add some plants which are especially well if your yoga sanctuary is indoors. I have an incense burner with Dragon Blood incense for when I practice yoga or meditate. Don’t forget candles, crystals, and chimes!

Invest your energy, attention and time in developing yourself. When you begin to develop yourself, you will have more control over your life.

My sister died 5 days ago

And in this lifetime she was known as Momo the mermaid. She loved the ocean more than anything. Today I went to the beach for the first time in a while and I felt her there… even more than I did when she was next to breathing and living because machines were powering her life.. I have never been so unafraid to be surrounded by thick salt water… where your vision sees as far as about 4 feet..

Normally, I’m a complete scaredy cat about that sort of thing. But today…when I went under and I felt myself get scared…I could feel her..I could hear her in my head telling me it was okay hunnigirl and to trust the ocean and trust her.. I didnt want to leave. I kept diving under again and again and again. Starting tomorrow I want to try to go out to the beach almost every day because that’s where my sister will be waiting for me to play..

I’m so thankful to have found this connection with her and it hurts so much to have her gone and no longer in this realm..but to be able to swim with her in the ocean she loved so much, casting away any fears I had beforehand is a remarkable, unexplainable feeling… I’m so so so grateful for my sisters connection to the ocean and that I am now able to share that with her as closely as possible.

subtle shifts