blessings // buttons y'all ~ here is where you can push the buttons of meaning and poetic interpretations of angel & angle windows of insight. peek around, there's a lot to see. (you may discover a key) For me? To sew is bestow! (buttons are like seeds) my aim is to frame THAT name : my sight is to ignite and thus write N2 PARADISE CLARITY. (for what is understanding if not for the s3arch & struggle to get there?)
the things i wished to do, i no longer care for the places i wanted to travel, i can’t see as reasonable any more is it because the covid numbers are spiking up? or the doors which refuse me by slamming shut?
i wanna cry but don’t know why i’m blanked in space trying to rectify my face i’m feeling numb, sad, and displaced feeling alone in a ‘home’ that does not belong to me wishing to paint with lens carefully and responsibly
while, cutting off those thrills which made it easy on my heart i rather now be torn apart by the very thing that’s eating me inside it’s unnamed, unable to be framed, and thrives by the constant rain that is to say : my crying tears are attempting to unmask my fears
although: stuck in a rut of staggering associations befuddled by contradictory operations seeking for a friend, but instead suddenly briefed by an online stranger that this too will soon end
without a sight to see what’s really wrong or a voice to sing in harmonic song having the very least, while the beast inside still demands a feast! consuming everything at the dinner table so that the unbelievable can be told as a fable
“did you see them eating all that cake? filling their stomach like algae would a lake! they probably wouldn’t feel that way – if they were the ones who had to make, all of which would soon be left to take!”
but: it’s a lot different when you’re behind an emotional wheel seeking to safely heal & when the transportation to feel is left to squeal
if grief had a thief, would it take like a lake? or would it restore in its proper place : salty to fresh waters which trace back to grace?
2.) = the 2 hole buttons which act as one straight line. (:)
1.) = the invisible shank where there’s a wired loop underneath. (n)
4.) = the 4 hole buttons which can be sewn as (X) or (::) these are most common on dress shirts which often come in 7 buttons going down from top to bottom.
buttons INDEED connect and the ‘gesture’ of button therapy is the search to bring clarity! if not for buttons on our clothes, we wouldn’t have a united force which harmonizes the divide. buttons are blessings, y’all! in the same way, every one of the blessings in my life have united me to a deeper connection and understanding.
“excuse me…but i gotta retrieve what’s FALLEN. tho, i never assumed the marble was signed up to be ALL IN!*at least not in those POCKETS! after all – what’s adding fuel to accelerate or suspend those ROCKETS?*the most shocking, is how hard it SLAMMED on to the concrete FLOOR – it stopped rolling, only after hitting the DOOR.it is of no wonder, the mirrored marble continually marveled; all of those who held true – the SPHERICAL WONDER which confessed : “the only way out is THROUGH! through the rage of wonder. through the calming thunder. through it all. through the answer and call.
whoaaaa!!!! is that ^^^ a lot? YES IT IS! one filled with luxury and used vehicles. the price tag depends on the mileage. if i buy a lemon – i may make lemonade, though at the expense of a soon to be regretful serenade. the stench and acidity would be the catalyst – in the courtroom of the lavish and cupidity.the colors present themselves as RED, WHITE, and GRAY. could it be to perceptions DISMAY – that all the other colors have faded ASTRAY?what is it about 3 & why does it feel good to me? some have claimed: this number is a lucky charm! others have stated, this being the reason it’s on my right shoulder, and left arm!
3 is resounding – it has brought me here. where I am sharing a poem that came about by not so random circumstance. I used the word ‘Spherical’ earlier which reminded me of a cassette tape I created 7 years ago called ‘Spherical Wonder’.
– it just so happens that I was able to retrieve the original poem never shared before until now for your reading pleasure. may it encourage you to know you very well being in the many but one planet of ours. we need not settle for less – the stars know us and when we look into them we witness springs…
Sometimes I Wonder where the fountain comes from? Its springs are mountains of passion which fully entertain the dimensions of great magnitude! What has become of the nature of the stars? as they shine very brightly in the night. I know that their smile is bright; because they have seen your composition. Even from afar, these stars have focused their light in the direction of your silhouette. This burning grows and intensifies as you dance around the platform of your most daunting ambitions. My smile is aroused by your indulgence of your most immediate desire. Spherical orbits are here reflecting our massive platform of where we stand. we are placed in the niche of circular fantasy. Our globe is now massive around the flow of our fingers.
who wants to ride on the hypno-highway expreSS!?
you may get there faster if you digreSS…
the way of the road is seen with many warnings and FLAGS
if you are moving too fast you may be stopped for expired TAGS
for what is life but a constant stream of ticketed RAFFLES?
if you are not in line, you will be greeted by the irony that BAFFLES
there’s no knotted web without the suspension of tightly pulled STRINGS
the hitch of hypnosis will unlock rhythms of WINGS and RINGS
all of what you hear around you is a spell to prolong your ATTENTION!
this all may seem dubious but this is done as a form of PREVENTION!
take a lease out on the moment to get lost on the ROAD
YES, YOU MISSED THE STOP SIGN – WAS IT TOO MUCH OF A HEAVY LOAD?
BRACE YOURSELF – DON’T FOLD! DON’T FOLD! DON’T FOLD!
This is why you must release yourself – into Hypno-highway’s GAZE
It will set your flame ABLAZE!
Now RAISE the minimum of your DESIRE – it may fancy you a brand new ATTIRE
the WIRE? no one has to be a LIAR
when they fire another poem or slippery SPIT
i don’t know where this is going but I’m not gonna QUIT!
i’m speeding by the frame of not counting the miles per HOUR
the seeds i planted long ago have blossomed into wondrous multi-colored FLOWERS HIP? NO!
you are not hip.
if you are not on the high!
for that is one way to make a YAY or NAY –
if you are gonna PAY – here is the WAY!
Stray To The Hypno HighWAY
TAKE A LISTEN IF YOU CARE NOT READ – I ADDED A COUPLE OF EFFECTS FOR YOUR PLEASURE! ❤
C00l S39t3mb3r – the time where Earth, Wind, And Fire asked us to
R E M E M B E R
so much to say – but not to the dismay, of time and formulated ritual. going back into the silence that puts a pause on the constant stroll. how often do we travel on the uptown scroll of our digital devices? endlessly taking in colors and shapes at a level too harsh to sign into our memory banks. sticky notes are all around – reminding us there’s work to do and better yet sleep to look forward to!
tis’ a pity, the master wind has returned – hoodie wear, is requested at the expense of sudden cold swifts to the head. herein this cold chill, reminds us to keep warm when outdoors. fire burns and flames return, when wrapped around with proper braided thread. bless-ed be: to the sudden change of weather. for in it, there’s a new calling. a received dial that beckons us to act accordingly.
every 9 and then – we need to be reminded of where we are, before our minds leave at the notion.
“the changing form of all my certainties – here is not where it use to be.”
– Sananda Maitreya
consciousness is feeding off of every present, past and future correlation.
do not be misled by the equation that suggests, that you didn’t know before. remembering history is more imperative than we realize. we can believe the witnesses of evidence. an equation where both the canceled and called can congregate in unison.
all of us in this scheme of life, are only partially aware of the colors that are being displayed. not fully belonging to anything. that is to say, we are always whole. belonging to isolated fragmentations, which make up a whole. (sometimes the sum is greater than the parts)
there is a lot on the menu, but we tend to order what works the best. faded photographs. messages with a context as alien as the dream forgotten. i suppose we can mute the feelings of inactivity, but space still lingers where silence tingles. (something’s can’t be blocked, only kept stable like the command: HOLD YOUR HORSES!
9 is the time..cuz
The alien and the commoner – can merge together and form a reality that is not yet distant or close. without a key – how can you enter in? to hack is to spy – what is yours or what is mine? it would be liken; to a delivery of syncopated beats and syrupy slippery clicks which get stuck in your head. mainly cuz the chorus is sticky but still icky.
when the light and darkness meet, who do you believe will win out? darkness hides in the shadows, they say. the darkness creeps like a lurking peep but without the tom. foolery will begin to match the forgotten rhyme.
C00l S39t3mb3r means, eliminating the shortcut to extra rage and clutter via our digital devices. we still have the tools to form a world, which goes beyond, reactive and projected social interaction. (this exchange often camouflages an avoidance, of what is really there.)
our phones have summoned like an extra joint to our bodies – as to make contact with the various social festivals of our feeds and dm’s. it is possible to detach – at least from the convenience of mobile shortcuts. We can all set the rhyme of law!
& so it is c00l 9 & 3 is here which means this month (& going forward N2020) I’m taking a break from the shortcuts to social media. (Deleted Twitter, Instagram, FB, etc – from my phone (for the time being) – and logged out from other Devices) I’ve also called this ‘pink hibernation’ and it has already improved my outlet of input and output.
The troubles of life take a larger seat in our consciousness because they make the most profit. However we can be c00l – when we remember 9 is the rhyme no longer forgotten –
i’ve said it before and many have seen it before – but BUTTONS CONNECT! the future *may* be wireless but buttons are right now. buttons, wires, cords, switches, are all physical knobs we could use right now. my curriculum as of late has been stitching, sewing, and cutting various threads.
WHAT IS BUTTONS CONNECT?
well think about it. buttons do connect. if an articel of clothing is divided by space – it’s secured safely by connecting the button. it’s a simple mechanism that has changed the game in terms of functionality and aesthetic appeal.
a door and circle
color on white
I formed the idea behind ‘buttons connect‘ as I realized the therapeutic value it created for me. I saw a story behind the button instead of just seeing it as an accessory. buttons are probably the easiest way to add color to an outfit without being too flashy or extravagant. there’s a story behind everything and buttons happen to be about the most reasonable of all functions – CONNECTION.
buttons are so common that you probably don’t know anyone who has NOT worn any article of clothing without them. they are THAT functional and plentiful. the button would be nothing however without the thread which holds it down. this string provides enough girth and strength to keep the button fastened to the surface.
looking like here is not where it use to be
in the same manner, the thread is nothing without a medium – this is where the needle makes its introduction. the thread is then carefully inserted into the needle hole and then fastened at the end, which creates a knot. these things must come together, this is likened to a seed. there is a need for fertile ground, an energy source, and then water to flourish a flower. in order for a button to connect:
you need only a button, thread, and a fertile (stable) surface in order for the needle to go through to stabilize the connection.
buttons connect is a movement where I am bridging the gap between use and misuse. remixing by adding and subtracting. changing. this is a new movement where there’s an emerging statement. my feet are arrows because it aligns with the idea of me going all over the place. the green arrows keep going and flowing!
buttons connect attempts to listen to what our hearts say and channeling that information into our creations so that we connect with one another and free ourselves from the mental baggage that we have been laced with since birth. buttons connect is connecting those encoded symbols in a way that frees our minds and hearts from the illusion of the false fabric of reality so that we can begin to sew and weave our own realities in a way that connects each of us with one another in creative ways.
you can start with something simple – then transform it and recycle it from what it was into something that you want it to be. turn less expensive things into fashion statements and weave them into your new fabric of reality. buttons are a great symbol of taking something which we all have access to, and recycling it into something new based on the moment and occasion.
(rift your thrift!)
this is all creating more instead of consuming! we have to connect and work with one another to build new patterns into the framework of reality after untying and unravelling the influences of the previous world of illusions which is keeps us tied down into a system (*stares in capitalism*) that has never been in our best interest. here is to reconnecting to our hearts to become our own weavers of our own realities!
connect with me by sharing the ways you’ve seen parallels between what is spoken and what is not. the thread is not as alien as it may look. it’s a small world but a larger one when you can remove the veil and understand what was there all along.
All this time I was only a biscuit without a two piece
*and a sigh of regret*
A dry muffin that yearned to take honey out on a lease
I was despised for my inability to fulfill a hunger spell UNTIL The flakiness of the edge of the biscuit ended up in my teeth’s jail
oh, what the hell….”
If you don’t watch out – the aftermath is coming to await you – as soon as you finish at the last bite. You’ll have some illusion of relief because of the flavors and satisfying *feeling* of being full. Great! So you ain’t hungry no more! *but what did you eat?* Did you eat anything that grew from the ground? Or was it most of it processed with added chemicals? We are not always served the intentions we put out. A memory may have made it good from before but in the present, it doesn’t measure the same.
You can expect a room full of diverse colors and patterns the moment you invite growth into your palace. Some guests are simply no longer invited. Some even overstay their welcome. For growth comes in to cultivate the seeds that were planted. If you’re not listening to your body and honoring the requests, it’ll start reminding you. It’s just like anything – learning how different things communicate is what makes one a great communicator.
It’s like that one time you ordered a biscuit and a two piece but you didn’t realize one of the pieces didn’t connect to the full picture. Some pieces are like small fragments from a mosaic. Depending on how far you’re looking, the details make a difference in how you interpret what you’re seeing. Some are larger than you think with added calories and enticement.
Memories can be unreliable because they switch the colors of the room. While we may think we know how to measure our memories accurately, we very often miss the mark.
It is not strange, for one to commonly order a side (sigh) order with a two-piece and biscuit. This could be a sigh order of relief, regret, or any range of emotions.
What is it about the number 3 – that finds itself in a charm box? Could it be that 3 is ‘lucky’? Or at least special because of the magic associated with it? “3 is the magic number, oh yes it is!” There’s a lot of reasons to believe that or to draw out connections that correspond with that idea but math has a way of spinning truth or illusion depending on which set of rules you’re using.
The number 3 will have a different association come next year but as it stands now – a flashback of experiences rush through me like lightning. Rarely do we keep up and remember all of the ways we are invested in the activity of daily living. Going to parties. Drinking with friends. Sharing a smoke with the homie. Eating a great meal with loved ones. All of this can happen at any time and become a practice of natural circumstance. If you don’t write down the way these connections are formed you can easily forget them unless they are stored properly. *At least for me, I write it down and forget about it until the occasional reading again.*
Life keeps on going and art helps us remember some of the details we have missed. 2015 was an incredible year for me and while I try not to always look back, sometimes I find myself staring at the things of the past. That year, in particular, had me hooked on purple high – which transformed so many of my experiences.
The purple vortex is so large it has a tendency to color all 2015 with a wide toothbrush as if that’s all that ever happened that year. Obviously, a lot of other things happened, but if you ask the red and blue from Minnesota – all the colors besides purple were all joined together to make a white space. (In other words, it didn’t exist as much as purple) 2015 was also the year I found out, I had to make the difference in where I wanted to go. I was no longer a passenger in someone’s car – I was the chauffeur of all my dreams.
Looking back like Lot’s wife means turning into a pillar of stone. Our memories and reactions to them are forever emblazed in statues. They live on. History is doomed to repeat itself under a new set of circumstances. It doesn’t matter what decision you make today, tomorrow may scoff at it or adjust it like a painting that’s hanging crooked on the wall.
We can’t help to correct or even re-imagine some of the actions of the past. I had a burning need to convey whatever was hot on my heart. Sometimes I succeeded at the vision while other times I just planted a seed that would mature within time. The time has come – after three years, reflection begins to take over. You look back and see those seeds and think of new ways you can remix or remaster.
Creating as a hobby is not the same as creating professionally but the focus of the creator is the same – to create and manifest. Someone may get it while others may get it only to a certain point. The begging question is – Will I be doing this even if money was not involved?Magic never hides its tricks but it may disguise itself in unfamiliar colors.
So what is it about some time periods that stick out to the creator? Maybe the details were not fully crafted or maybe – the fact that something done 3 years ago is enough to excite one to build on it currently. I should point out that 3 to me is a charm. There’s a flow of consciousness that is found in any number. Adding or subtracting can connect to any relevance one believes seriously enough to accept.
Anything can be a message or a window to a fresh perspective. What resounds me about 3 is how much we’ve convinced ourselves of its purpose in our lives.
The colors you bring to my mind are filled with delight and cream. I can only dream and dream when my eyes go to sleep. You’re simply what I want.
Can you be obtained, and when I finally taste of your colors – will you avenge me and forge my sensation?
Ketchup is noticeably on your clothes. You eating sloppy so slow down! This Narrative of consumption focuses on the color that comes with your favorites foods. Candy invites the dream – it entices the desire to gain with its every bite, before you know it you’ll be flying high. Just make sure your colors aren’t forged.
It’s been 3 months and the ✨✨✨transcendence✨✨✨ is still replayed in my mind. The life and legacy of Prince is everlasting. Always bouncing through the music and alive through the melody. With each song and rhythm of funk – I still feel the ✨✨✨transcendence✨✨✨. He’s forever embedded in the countless transformations left in every note of his sound. I still miss the constant mystery. The whole aura that multiples when you literally have no idea what can come next. The “You Never Know What Might Happen” The random invites to a party.
He may perform or he might just be teasing to keep us guessing. The new releases of music. (Even more so The Paisley Park Listening Sessions) The conversations that made everyone in the room silent. Prince was more than a musician who lived in Chanhassen, Minnesota. Anyone who followed along the ride was guaranteed a new experience. He encouraged us to surrender your expectations. He talked in a unique way – using words, letters, numbers, colors, and even symbols to convey his meaning. (Who else do you know – could be recognized by a symbol?)
If you listened to the sound at all – you know! Damn. This is not only fun but life changing. He had us so hooked – one could not plan to do anything on Friday or Saturday because those days likely something may happen!
We began to count on a PPAD by studying the moon. Also the correlation between the number 7. He spoiled us and started to actually remind us when another party was near when the moon was either full or new. Sometimes – the party’s just happened privately and you needed the invite. 😀
I’m taking, this time, to reflect and to be thankful again to be apart of the experience. I’m pretty proud and thankful that it happened while I was alive. To step into that space. The feel of his studios. The smell of anticipation.
Conducting the studio tours at Paisley Park was an unforgettable experience. I remember going on one for the first time in September and was blessed by the opportunity to see real life history in each of his studios. Joshua Welton gave an amazing detailed breakdown of the studios while also giving us an exclusive listen to HitNRun Phase One. After finishing the tour – Kirk told me “Prince wants you to do the tours – will you be ready tomorrow?”
Wait. What. Pause.
He assured me I got the gig and this shouldn’t come as a surprise because they had prepared me for this all along.
I was sent bullet points on to what to say and it became a usual gig each time Prince opened up the doors at Paisley. What a blessing. Surprises were constant and it always exceeded the last experience.
I remember one distinct time a couple of friends and myself was invited to Paisley Park for a music video for Judith Hill. A lot of us showed up but we couldn’t be at Paisley until I was told when to come in. We met up at Houlihan’s for what felt like hours – just waiting for confirmation. I got the call only to be told it was canceled – and while we were all a bit upset we laughed and just shared Prince stories all throughout the night. A couple of the faithful ones were called ‘The True Blues” because we were always truly there. Always there to support and show our love for everyone involved in the Paisley experience.
Another time I got a call that a party was happening at Paisley Park. A couple of friends were invited and while Prince didn’t show up – Hannah’s and Josh’s (3EG) family were there and we danced with them and were invited to the kitchen to eat some food. They called this event a ‘Family Affair” we were delighted to be there. I told Kirk – Since we are family and all “Where is the aluminum foil?” Haha! He got a kick out of that – they didn’t have any foil but plenty of cups for us take with us! (Some of the best food I’ve ever tasted too!)
We were always down for him regardless of what did or didn’t happen.
It wasn’t that long ago – and while seeing Prince always felt like a dream or some kind of distant ethereal dimension experience. I still miss him around and miss the humor and engulfing parade. I miss him on Twitter and his clever wit. His T.A.D. (Tweet and Delete) He’s left me with so many life-changing memories and I’ll never forget them. Thankful for the countless memories and great friends that were brought forth. “So much work to do…Everywhere. That’s what this is about. The Work. PT. Everlasting Now.
There Will Never Be Another Like Him – or like you. So let’s add more colors, numbers, symbols, and anything else to your own story – so we can do the work and remind people luv4oneanother is the only way.
November – First – Two-Thousand And Fifteen, Eye *finally* saw Janet Jackson in Concert at the Target Center here in Minneapolis! I can go on and on about my love for her, but without going too far, let me just say I was right on time! I was supposed to see her back in 2011, where I actually won tickets to see her along with a friend backstage for her ‘Number Ones, Up Close, and Personal’ Tour. Long story short, and tears Aside…I had a ticket for New Orleans I just purchased and I could not miss the flight. My friend, however, got to meet her and take a picture with her. As we know, that was the last time she actually toured until now in 2015. SO I had to wait four years!
She was everything I had hoped from a show. The songs were in balance, she was totally in spirit. The set list was a great combination of both her back catalog and newer material. She can still get down and dance with perfect rhythm! The band
was tight and her dancers are superb! So many people came out to show their love and support. She remains one of the beautiful and energetic performers around! Seriously, the way she moves and engages is pure magic. Not to mention sings with such tenderness and lightness.
The mayor of Minneapolis even came out (along with Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis) and announced November 1st – in Minneapolis will be recognized as Janet Day. So thanks to Janet for kicking me in the face – with another concert experience worth amazing memories. November is due to be a very suspenseful month – October still was one of the most active months I could ever recall.
I am brought into a more somber and reflective state of mind, because of the hurricane of October. Finally breathing and surrounding myself with brain waves that are brighter and more radiant. I’m now developing, which has become a great way to sharpen my determination. Colors are being introduced again, and my process is still going// just very faintly.
I’m really excited about the passion and fearless assignment I’m engaged in. There is no room for failure, I’m coded in authentic reflex. I feel like a rebel with a cause, with the letter of action.
As for my pen?
Well, It’s filled with the ink of passion of course!
Like Solomon ranted about: All things are full of weariness – a man cannot utter it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. What has been being what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Is there a thing of which it is said, “See, this is new”? It has been already in the ages before us. There is no remembrance of former things, nor will there be any remembrance of later things yet to be among those who come after. (Ecclesiastes 1:8-11 ESV)
I have written down the variables of fatigue in the dreams given by exhaust.
Counting from 0 to Symbolic abbreviations – our time is far received.
Given the mixture of colors and melodies, the sound is louder than exposure.
We are sleeping because of the bright apparel of the jaded consequence of media.
Desire is begged for the heaviest consumption of self-visibility.
Forsaking the notion of those satisfied with usual garbs of length; we excuse our sanction for equality.
By the determinations of cursed indulgence, the mind explores paths to knit with.
Engaging passionately, with the beauty of a name worn by all of those who kNOw not the name of vanity.