And Your Bird Can Sing has always been my favourite, but She Said Blew My Mind. Typical. There we were during the Mad Masters mixing sessions, at the end of a long day's mixing. There we were sat behind the API desk and ProAc monitors, listening to Beatles records. Typical. Typical but transcendental : the euphoria of it, hearing that sound in that listening environment. Hearing the songs working at their deepest levels : mecahnical, structural, melodic, semantic, instrumental. Performance, recording, mixing all blending into one. Intent and purpose revealed on every level. She Said blew my mind. Time and space didn't matter anymore. And Your Bird Can Sing has always been my favourite. She Said blew my mind.
"Evil hides in pretty places.
My causal relationships are misaligned in the temporal dimension at the moment. It's strange. Somebody fix it please..
The stillness has found me again.
I find myself thinking.... about freedom, the universe, about humans. About why? About why I need to know? About purpose...
For three hours we cycled around the lake valley on rickey old bikes. For three hours we plunged our minds with abandon into putting the world to right, into understanding history, human nature, into considering how such vigorous cruelty can prevail and how shallow values have engulfed our culture. For three hours we were surrounded by overwhelming landscape, magnificent beauty. We were thousands of miles from home, thousands of miles from anything that was familiar, thousands of lifetimes away from understanding the scale of it all.
Freedom. Sensitivity. Which is more noble? Which is more selfish? Is it a blessing or a curse, to feel the energies of the earth and to know the deeper emotional frequencies of our existence? Is it a curse when the result is a marauding sadness, an inevitable resignation to the chaos of it; a hopeless juxtaposition of purity and peace with desperation? Is it a blessing when a glimpse of it is enough, when there is something to be celebrated. When there is hope.
Freedom... a word abused? Is it an excuse? What does it mean?
Purpose. Can you help me? Maybe I can amuse you: When you come across a wild dog on your travels, when it cocks its head at you and flicks its ear and when it gives you a look and then ignores you, will you wonder - was that condescension? Does it know something I don't?
Perhaps not, but entertain the thought and it might entertain you.
The stillness has found me again, I need a remedy.