I joined some multidisciplinary artist friends for improvised choral singing yesterday, and we talked about this between warm ups. Voice as instrument, as expression moving up from within the body out into the world, to connect, to move in turn. It was such a healing evening 💙

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it is art that moves the BODY, through laugher, through fear or unease, their arousal. and because the powers that be have trained these things out of us over centuries, its a third rail everyone feels they must avoid. buddy that rail is made of gold. it is the infinite: not an empty void, but LOVE

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there is just so much beauty in these cracks between what folks find appropriate, or absurd, or profound. and it is untouched because... nobody will take you seriously if you wrestle that strange thing and turn it into art? who cares? that is the PRIMAL force that everything is birthed from.

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"BISEXUALLY POUNDED BY THE BITTERSWEETNESS OF NOSTALGIA AND THE UNCEASING PASSAGE OF TIME" -- Chuck, Ich am so sorrye to be that guye but MARCEL PROUST DID THYS ALREADYE

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sometimes its difficult thinking up tinglers. asking myself how can i tap into something deeply HUMAN here? but other times BANG it hits you like a lightening bolt. you see god and you are like 'of course, BISEXUALLY POUNDED BY THE BITTERSWEETNESS OF NOSTALGIA AND THE UNCEASING PASSAGE OF TIME'

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