Archive for Creativity

The Edible Garden; a Permaculture Workshop

The Edible Garden: a Permaculture Workshop

Wow. Milena and I had a great time Sunday at the Permaculture Event at Tom and Susan Armstrong’s “Park” out in Redmond. They are great people: very knowledgeable, energetic, loving, sharing. They own the Raw Source raw food store– it’s in their converted garage. And they brought in Bruce Horowitz, a really great permaculturist/sustainable comunitist/raw food chef from Bellingham. And there were about 8-10 other guests, all of whom were really great, too!

It was just a really positive time of learning about sustainability, permaculture and how its design principles fit into your everyday life, and just being around cool people. And creating stuff! Yes, Milena and I worked on the “Herb Spiral,” which is a circular/spiral-shaped built-up area for growing herbs. It is south-facing, and each quadrant or so has a special purpose. For instance, the southern quadrant or so is made up of sun-loving plants, since south is the direction of the sun. Likewise, the north-facing quadrant or so houses more shade-loving herbs, since they will be shaded by the more southerly plants. HerbSpiral.tTARgwmUospQ.jpg

Get it? One of the main principles of permaculture is that each element of the design serves at least 3 purposes. Another is that the elements are all symbiotic. So, efficiency is prime.

Completed Questions: Experimental Group Voice class

Experimental Group Voice, Keith Rowley

  1. 1.How will this activity attract University of Washington students? This activity will attract UW students by being experientially effective. That is, participants will not only know they have been through an exciting event, they will feel it. This course will expand their range of expression, emotion, feeling, and interrelationships, and in so doing, students will be so excited at their growth they will feel compelled to tell others about it.
  2. Why do you want to teach this class? Because I am excited by the expressive and connecting potential of the human voice. And I want to empower people to explore their humanity, their compassion, and their ability to connect the deepest parts of themselves with the deepest parts of others.
  3. What skills and/or knowledge do you hope the students will gain from the activity? Primarily, I hope students will gain trust in themselves and their classmates. I hope they will learn to trust their own ability to express themselves more fully, trust in their power to overcome any fear of expressing themselves, trust in their ability to share themselves fully with others, and trust in the effectiveness of both opening themselves to others, and being open with others. I hope they learn that by being open to others, by listening to others, and by being committed to the process, they will create something larger than they can alone.
  4. What exercizes will the students participate in? Exercises will include visualization (controlling their emotions), meditation (getting in touch with their emotions), breathing (controlling their voices), calisthenics (enabling a wider range of expression), communication and listening (opening themselves to others), and vocalizing, employing various musical elements such as rhythm, melody, harmony, dissonance, tone/timbre, volume/amplitude, texture (monophonic, polyphonic), etc.
  5. What supplies and/or equipment will the student need to provide? Just their self, their voice, and an open mind, heart, and ears.
  6. What supplies will the student receive? Perhaps some printed inspirational resources, and/or audio CDs.
  7. Please describe your background in this area and your teaching/training background. I have been singing since before I can remember. My family of seven sang rounds together in the car all the time. I have sung in choirs starting in seventh grade, and made the Texas All-State Choir in 1981. I have 20 years experience singing semi-professionally. I have also been teaching at the college level since 2000, and am currently teaching at Bellevue Community College.

Course Outline for Experimental College Voice Class

  1. General course description
    1. Subject matter covered in this course
    2. This class will cover various experiential approaches to vocalization, including texture and harmony, as a group. We will concentrate on eliciting a variety of emotions, as a group, using only our voices and bodies.
    3. My approach to teaching this content will be both very experiential and experimental. I will use various means to engage and prepare students for our attempts to work together to elicit specific emotions.
    4. The only prerequisites for this course are the willingness to vocalize with other people, and a willingness to be open to all sorts of possible experiences.
    5. This class will draw on various elements of choral composition, such as rhythm, melody, harmony, dissonance, tone/timbre, volume/amplitude, texture, etc. It will also draw upon visualization, meditation, calisthenics, and breathing techniques.
    6. Students might find it helpful to draw upon their experiences working in groups (not necessarily singing in groups!), and in meditative environments.
  1. Method of course delivery
    • The course will mainly entail learning together, as a group.
    • In fact, the main point of this class is to create what we cannot create alone.
    • Students will be sticking to the pace of the group’s growth. I will encourage students to engage in active listening throughout their lives, by listening to various artists, as well as the world around them, in an effort to broaden their “palette” of sounds with which to elicit emotion. But the point of the class is, again, to create together what we cannot create alone.
    • Inspirational resources may be provided via audio CDs and/or printed material.
  1. General course goals/objectives
    • Students will directly experience working in a group.
    • Students will directly experience creating something as a group that they cannot create on their own.
    • Students will broaden:
      • 1) their relationships with others
      • 2) their ideas of what music is
      • 3) the limitations of their feelings
      • 4) the limitations of their expression
  1. Outline of overall course structure (i.e., lessons/topics)
    • The course is broken down into combinations of “preparation-to-create” and “approach-to-creation.”
      • “Preparation-to-create” is: calisthenics, meditation, breathing, and visualization.
      • “Approach-to-creation” is: visualization, and the various choral-composition techniques, such as texture, harmony, melody, unity, dissonance, rhythm, amplitude/volume, and tone/timbre.
    • The course will last an hour and a half, once a week, for six weeks.
    • Each week I will present a new combination of “preparation” and “approach.”

Experimental Voice Class: Summary/Description

In this class, people will use their voices to elicit emotion. The class is inherently experiential and experimental, with the participants exploring their voices, their emotions, and their interrelationships, all within a safe, fun, and enticing environment. Exercises will include visualization, meditation, breathing, calisthenics, rhythm, melody, harmony, dissonance, tone/timbre, volume/amplitude, texture (monophonic, polyphonic), etc. In such an experimental and interactive creative environment, we will foster community via people sharing in the creation and experience of a wide array of emotions, including love, sadness, joy, power, anger, grooviness, happiness, play, confusion, and peace.

Yes, Video on Flickr!

Check out the blurb on Flickr’s site:

http://blog.flickr.net/2008/04/09/video-on-flickr-2/

Nice…

Protected: God Is.

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Enchanted Rock

As great and ebon pillars frame
The vaulted granite and nurture the
Bell-watcher, so do overarching
Branches bower all I feel
From this bough-strung, airy cot.
Ah! God’s world! Yes, He made it for us
And lives astride it; and by prayer
And right living, from within
The forest grove we may yet
See him in our minds; crouched
Heavily on his gilt-leaden throne,
Dizzying white to even most-exalted
Human brain. O! Lord of lords!
Highest of the high! Thou art First
And Last, Means and Measure of ev’ry
Plastic, fallible thing of thy creation.
O! To live and be with Thee
Above this dreary world of decay.
To shine forever with the unfalt’ring
Blaze of motionless stars,
Ne’er to feel the pangs of love lost
Or unrequited; ne’er to see the last
Embers of a brother’s once-flaring
Vitality slowly fade into engulfing
Darkness; O! The mere hint of a thought
From thy most Perfect Intellect
Instantly manifests infinitudes of worlds,
Inhabited with creatures of Purity and Grace:
Great winged lions Pneuma-lifted,
Reconnoitre and pounce on the Imperfect:
Twisted, knotting flesh succumbs to
Tooth and claw; the loveliest of womankind
Stroll through fields of primrose, fine garments
Flowing about their bosoms; they help
One another out of their twisted tangles
Of fabric and one by one dive
Into wat’ry ablution, singing
“Hail Mary, full of Grace!
Turn to us thy Perfect Face!
When thou seest what we have done,
Thy wrath shall fall’st upon thy Son!”

O! were the base and lower creatures
Of this sticky, fragile valley grand
As that pinion’d enforcer of Heavenly Law!
Were men and women Heavenward lifted
And purged of whimsical carnal desires!
O! were the very ground upon
Which we standeth steadfast
As thy Word, O Lord! Through me
Sing thy empowering songs of creation!

Atop the precipice of this enchanted rock
I survey the confused maze of human
Order, god-like; from darkness beneath
My forward-looking eyes emerges
A pure, sinuous drone to which beats
The rhythm of my heart and synchronously
The receding ripples of hill and dale.
Obscuring a nearer peak, mists hover
And all signs of life smother:
Thick cloud of acid rain casts
Sheets of death over all it darkens;
But as it passes to a succeeding vale
The light of my seeing beholds a peak
Recreated: bright with new-budding flowers’
Open invitations to free-roaming bees;
New-branching trees reach out
To embrace and enfold the very reaches
Of Heaven; river trout play and burst
The dancing and splashy surface of bubbly
Bourne, drunk on crispy post-shower
Air. Spots of such cloud obscure
Variously among my vista, carried upon
Viewless, inconstant winds that now billow
Up from below, now beat me from beside,
Now tease nape-hairs in subtle desultory tugs.

O! Enchanted rock! Still
And silent forever in thy massive permanence!
Though divine breeze buffet thy barren slopes,
Though soft rain pound thy granite shores,
Though warming sun bake thy stressless crevices,
Still dost thou stand, irresponsive, silent
But for the moaning blasts that gust amain
Through thy mysterious caves and crags;
Still dost thy sheer mass and impenetrability
Impress upon this mutable earth
Thy imposing form, stamping thy design
Upon this world of immediate sensation.

* * *

Down into the hallows of the rock
We travel, disembodied and borne
Aloft by the selfsame wind that carries
The Word from its berth among inner caverns
Out into the world and now back again,
Having deposited in that soddy vale
The heavy crudities of its broadest meaning.
As we delve deeper into the ancient darkness,
The air loses its warmth and likewise
The caverns slow-shine of an alien light
Of unknown yet steady hue,
Like the chill, eternal night
Of arctic borea. Here are frozen
In perfect magnitude beauties in essence:
I reach to touch upon first sight
A band of pure gold inlaid with dazzling diamonds–
My hand flinches in quick retreat
From inhuman cold. Borne now
To a deeper, vaulted chamber
Which roof is crystalline to sight
Even at this impossibly eternal height,
Cistene figures imag’d of most brilliant
Shapes and colours caught mid-step–:
Beautiful serpent coyly coiled
Upon that cursed apple tree,
Fruit of Knowledge yet upon
The lips of ambitious Eve;
Damned, lonely Adam ever
Reaching, tantalised by God’s closeness,
The sight of whose Infinite Being upwells
In him an ever more aching hunger.

My heart cries out for the guiltless souls
Of physical First Man and Woman,
And though in Heaven ripe fruit ne’er falls,
On earth it does, and when it lands
In the lazy lap of a dozing poet,
The dreamer wakes and the hungry eat.

Eating is Becoming

An isolated incident. I’m a normal guy. I don’t know what happened. I mean, it could happen to anybody, eh?

I’ve always figured there were too many people on this planet anyway, and that most of them are pretty miserable if they’re not starving to death. But I’m justifying myself in retrospect. Shit. Okay. I’ll just tell the story.

It was a normal day. Or, it started out that way: went to work, got up to the building and parked; all like I do every day. But this one day when I got in the elevator to go up to the office, I broke out into a cold sweat. It started on my forehead and the small of my back. And I thought I was going to pass out right there in front of all those people– and this elevator was packed, like it is every morning. People going to work, you know? But anyway, my arms and legs start sweating and I can’t get enough oxygen, no matter how deliberately I try to breathe. I’m not really freaking because I’m just trying to maintain, you know– I’m just concerned with staying alive I guess, ‘cause I never really thought about any of the other people in the elevator. Except I remember getting really hungry, which is strange now that I think about it because I’d had a good breakfast just a half-hour before… And then after I got out of the elevator and I was okay again, I was still hungry. So I went right to my office and ate the sandwich I’d brought for lunch, but that didn’t help. I couldn’t get enough to eat that whole day at work– that was weird.

But besides that, the rest of the day went fine; at work, I mean. I worked on this proposal that my group is working on for the Population Control Center. Yeah, everything went normal that day, but for some reason I do remember this one memo on our group’s electronic bulletin board. It said, “the future is Soylent Green.” I just laughed at the time; I got the reference, you know? Ugh… People eating people…

Anyway, so it happened in the elevator ride back down at the end of the day. And nothing like this has ever happened before, you know? Except for this one day. The elevator was packed, like it always is at the end of the day– people going home, you know? But this time, just like that morning, I broke out into this cold sweat, and almost instantly I get dizzy and start seeing stars around the periphery of my vision like I’m about to pass out. And I get real hungry again. And this time I do notice the people in the elevator. I remember them seeming so big and imposing. So close. I’d look at the guy next to me and his face was all pitted and scarred and oily and I could see sweat beading up on his upper lip. Oh, and his breath stank like he’d just eaten a piece of rotten meat. Reminded me of when I was a kid, I got locked in the cabinet under the sink where we kept the trash can. I was stuck in there with all that rotting food scrap for I don’t know how long, but ever since then I think I’ve been afraid of both closed-in spaces and leftovers.

And this lady on the other side of me, she was hugely obese and I don’t know what she was doing in there ‘cause she looked like somebody’s worst nightmare of a mother-in-law. God, she was wearing this sleeveless sundress-type wrap of cloth and she was sweating worse than I felt like I was. I remember her pasty skin from about mid-upper arm up to her neck and — oh, God– she had this dark, thick, long body hair. A bunch of it around her neck. It was really extraordinary– and I remember I thought so at the time. I remember I thought, “a lioness!” But she couldn’t have been a lioness– it’s the male lions that have that thick mane around their necks. This was a woman. But god, did she have some sweaty fur!

So all this time I’m getting hungrier and hungrier, and everything looks like a dream. Like slow motion and soft filters and I’m numb except for the feeling of my stomach starting to digest itself. And then I become extremely aware of the smells of these people. There’s the guy’s rotting meat breath. There’s the scent of his sweat and mine and that fat lady’s and everybody else’s all mingling together– and believe me, by now I can tell that everybody in that elevator’s sweating big time.

But the smell of this one woman– she was behind me to my left– God! Sweet! Like an exotic dessert. So I turned around to see her, and, oh, she was simply gorgeous! Auburn hair, green eyes, olive complected, and a beautiful, if nervous, smile. I wanted to eat her so bad. Yeah, really. I mean I literally wanted to eat her right up.But then I noticed this other delicious scent from the front of the elevator, to my left; it was another lady, but she smelled like she’d basted herself in Worcestershire sauce all day. I remember thinking, “she’d make a tasty appetizer!” HA! Yeah, no shit. And so on with all those people.

But what pushed me over the edge was this one lady, Claire. I knew her from my office– she worked in another group, but we’d known each other from just seeing each other around. I’d always been obscurely attracted to her. She’s so somber most the time, you know? But she’s an interesting woman–got a wide range of interests and she’s very personable and interested, too. But what was so strange is that she smelled to me like this dish my aunt Lorraine used to make for family gatherings when I was a kid. Oh, god, this was the best food I ever ate, before or since; and I’d not had a bite of it since I was about 16 I guess– that was when Aunt Lorraine fell into a meat grinder at the meat-packing plant where she worked. But she called this dish– my favorite dish ever– she called it “Claire Lorraine.” I guess it was like Quiche Lorraine, but she had a daughter named Claire and kinda combined the two into the name of this awesome casserole.

So this lady Claire, just as I’d turned to see where this delicious scent was coming from, she turned too, to look at me. And she nodded to me, like she was saying, “I know you’re hungry. Okay. I’m your main course. Bon appetit!” Real somber like she always is!

I couldn’t resist. I was so hungry– famished– and her delicious scent drove me into a feeding frenzy. I devoured Claire in about 3 bites, downed the appetizer lady in about a bite and a half, and the rest I don’t really remember ‘cause there were body parts all over the place and I kinda smorgasborded it, you know. A little bite of this, set it down, a little bite of something else, set it down, etc. And they were all very resigned about it. Like they knew it was coming. They didn’t run or scream or anything.

Even Lisa. She stood back there in her corner watching like it was TV. When I was done, she looked at me and gave a slight giggle– not nervous anymore– and she said, ”Thanks. It was getting a bit crowded.”

And she was right! For the first time I could remember in that damn elevator, I was relaxed! I could feel the oxygen beginning to infuse my veins along with the fuel I’d just devoured. I felt great, like my eyes’d been popped out, washed in a bath of Windex, and popped back in. Everything was crystal clear, colors bright as sunshine… especially Lisa. Her hair took the colors of a bonfire at night, and her green eyes looked like thick jungle.

I sighed and replied, “Yeah, and I’m not hungry anymore.”

Earth My Body

My old friend Dell is helping me with “Earth My Body,” which is a song taught to me by this great guy Kaj (pron: “kai”) at the Kerrville Folk Festival back in, say, 1991. Simple words:

Earth my body,

water my blood,

wind my breath,

and fire my spirit.

For my first two years at Kerrville, drum circles were just kick-ass: very often, very nice, very humbling, spiritual, powerful, communal. Exactly what my soul desired at the time (and has been craving ever since). (Since the KFF is a "songwriter’s" festival, KFF, Inc. officially banned drums after my second year– quite probably as a direct result of our drumming– which was, to me, at least, and i know to most anyone who was present at this particular circle– among the most divine experiences in my life.)

One evening, on the back of Chapel Hill, the darkest, quietest, most sacred spot on the ranch…

…nice fire,

a dozen or more beautiful hippies,

clear sky, no moon.

lots of stars.

smallish fire.

 

Kaj starts this beat.

He’d taught me this song earlier,

so i knew it. Dropped right in with my talking drum,

got it going.

Organically, grows.

People join in as their spirit gets it–

“gets” it.

Groks it.

All of it going on: super-natural.

Kaj starts singing.

I join.

We sing in unison for quite some time,

and one by one,

people start joining in,

start singing in this unison, this one song…

Once this feeling, this communal bond, is established,

i add a harmony,

the 5th,

very quietly at first,

blending it in as just an overtone.

And it grows.

Soon others join in the harmony as well.

i add the 3rd,

quietly at first,

and soon all three parts are going,

and everyone is feeling it,

knowing,

that–

this is something special!

Everybody knows it, is singing,

playing, harmonizing,

the spirit of the song so growing organically,

moving us all

from the inside

to play as IT

–the SONG–

wants to be played, to be manifested in this plane of reality…

for she is the message,

and we, the messengers…

And i’m on fucking autopilot–

dun-dun talking away–

talking with–

–holding conversations with–

every individual musician/instrument-combination in the circle–

taking turns, listening, responding–

listen/reply–

hear/say–

joke/laugh–

cry/weep–

bless/thanks–

spit/spat–

The spirit rises–

we are all orbiting Pluto–

the stars spinning round our heads–

the gods whirling ‘twixt our souls–

hearts beat in time–

the earth throbs with us–

fire-sparks join our spirits rising–

the wind sings harmonies in the trees octaves higher–

energies race to the farthest oceans of space–

brightening the darkness

all around us,

within us

eventually we drop;

we feel the spirit quiet.

As one, we fade,

leaving only the crackling of the fire,

the chirping of the crickets,

the wind, still calling our universal names…

In silence, we all exhale,

for the first time in 20 minutes

(though it seems lifetimes).

i look up at the stars and think,

“wow! look at the stars!”

i hear a voice across the circle whisper:

“wow! look at the stars!”

i think to myself, “this must be God,”

another voice across the way:

“this must be God.”

i think to myself: “I am THIRSTY!!!”

someone hands me a bottle of water.

Like that.

Anyway, it’s such a wonderful, meditative chant on our inner connection with our world. It’s always stayed with me, and I always wanted to lay down some kind of version of it. So, finally, in the summer of ‘05, i did. But I’m not perfectly happy with it, so just a few nights ago, I was iChatting with Dell, and he brought up again how he’d like to do some collaboration over the internet, like I’m doing with Jon. So, right there I tell him about “Earth My Body,” and he says, “send send.”

So, I’m excited about music again. Lots of it going on in my life right now… just need some money to be able to keep it coming. Oh, Brotherhood of God, help me open the God-Mind connection, to manifest greatness and goodness, joy and health, for the greater good of the Universe and Everyone Concerned…

Kirtan: the Yoga of Singing. Of Course.

Just heard Jai Uttal and his group (Jai Uttal and the pagan love orchestra) singing “Om Nemah Shivaya”, a gorgeous Hare Krishna-esque chant from their “Nectar” album. Upon visiting his website, I’ve discovered that there is– suprise!– a “yoga of singing,” called “kirtan.” And here is some information about a workshop Uttal will be holding around the turn of the new year.

What a wonderful thing! As I heard the song, a call-and-response singalong, I just couldn’t help but sing along. And soon, I was picturing in my head “my people.” My future. The dream of my future, in a beautiful, natural setting, with my friends and family surrounding me, all of us singing together in this beautiful sound, feeling and sharing love and smiles.

Kirtan. The Yoga of Singing. Of course.

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