Samsaradise v.1
a flea market of vibes
in the box—
As the earth tilts away from the star here in the northern hem, the heat begins to fade and so comes the time to break up with our summer romances. My paramour as it were is a clear mountain lake inside of which I, ever the reluctant land mammal, am able to reclaim my gils and tail for four glorious months a year and slither about under the light and liquid crystal. The only hindrance at all to my mermaid summer is the continual need to come up for air. Suffice it to say that whatever elemental fusion is happening to me beneath the surface of my glimmering pool, whatever alchemical magic is having its way, it is reminding me of the primal need for wildness in our lives.
In stark contrast to this reclamation of transformative unrestraint, western culture right now feels like a slow squeeze into an ever-shrinking proverbial box. The confinement of adhering to societal norms, the constant reiteration of narrative, the repetition of patterns in art of nearly every medium (but especially music), the well-worn pathways of our own mentality—lately my awareness seems more keenly attuned to the parameters of this experience and an existential claustrophobia has set in. It—the box, or rather the need to break free from it—is the singular driving force behind my every venture at present. I can’t help but acknowledge, despite my mind’s protestations, the emptiness of experience and the overwhelming constraints of this world of mentality. More and more I am overcome by the longing to burst out of the known into stranger and more unfamiliar territory and this is manifesting itself as a mad desperate search for the obtuse and unpredictable. I know in my bones that what I seek cannot be found in the temporariness of experience and that it is just a matter of time before this awareness turns permanently inward but the mind is bent on setting sail into the outer reaches, come what may. Such is the trap of consciousness.
Samsaradise is an endeavor to go beyond; an ode to finding paradise within the confines of samsara. It is a documentation of discovery and a way of sharing those discoveries with you—like a flea market of vibes to make our lives better. If we are to endure this matrix, we might as well taste the best of it, pursue new and interesting pathways of insight, stoke our creativity, and devour life completely.
Please enjoy this weeks offering.
on the ‘tube—
Speaking of water sprouts and merfolk, surfer Keith Malloy’s 2017 documentary Fish People explores how the ocean has impacted the lives of six people from around the world. Gorgeous photography with captivating stories, this short film is a tribute to the beauty of the sea that highlights how the wildness of water heals the human spirit.
Highly recommend.
just do art—
With the theme of wildness pervading the mind, my attention wanders to a landscape right here in the American backyard: the haunting expanse of the desert southwest.
As barren as it is generous of inspiration, these lands have an unmistakable magnetism. Perhaps in this place the song of existence has not yet been spoken over by the dissonant rumblings of modern man. One’s attention is cultivated in the desert, moved by the overpowering vastness. It compels a return to instinct. And there is an exhilaration to being properly put in one’s place by mother nature that any traveler just passing through can undoubtedly feel though perhaps not consciously articulate. Awe is the word for it, when the presence of the ever-existent becomes internalized as a feeling inside us again and we are held between the pressing palms of earth and sky.
This land and its inhabitants serve as perpetual muse for a league of contemporary artists capturing the land of stone, sage, and melting sky. A sample of their work provides this months artist spotlight.
heavy rotation—
It was my intention with Samsaradise to feature new music and mixes to break up the monotony of what has already been heard but it seems appropriate at the onset to review a piece of work by an artist that embodies the very expansive, experimental spirit music is so desperately in need of recapturing right now.
Music plays a pivotal role in our experience of this existence. It shapes the vibration with which we meet life and yet western contemporary music seems hellbent on containing that vibratory resonance within the smallest possible spectrum of creativity. It is a given in the genre of pop music that the composition mainly consists of simplistic repeating patterns but the last twenty years have seen this simplification become frankly insulting. Leonard Cohen famously said, “pare down to the essence but don’t remove the poetry.” Don’t remove the soul. Can anyone deny the soullessness of adhering to the same chord progressions, the same song structures, the same monotonous melodies that repeat the same musical phrases ad nauseam ad infinitum, and the same lyrical content, all processed through a computer that compresses and automates the humanness out of every tone, every voice, and every musical, rhythmical nuance? This dumbed-down android approach to an abjectly complex human art form begs the question: where are the iconoclasts who laugh in the face of this machine of conformity? Where are the poets?! Where are the rebels?
Perhaps the continual attenuation of the musical spectrum and the sterilization of tonality is not a widely acknowledged phenomenon among the average listener. For me, it is serving as the primary antecedent fueling the desire to completely eradicate the parameters of this perceptual box. The oversimplification of musical patterns and the quality of sounds with which we are continually bombarded have reached intolerability. Humanity desperately needs new shapes of vibration to exist within—new ideas, diverse fusions of sounds, and a quality of realness maintained.
One thing that must be fully understood is that musicians are the stewards of vibration. That is a monumental responsibility. It is not enough to churn out content to appease the very base level instinct of a populous. The serious musician must realize their power to form energy and insist upon creating vibrations that seed harmonious geometry into existence. Sound is energy made manifest. Matter appears to take the shape of vibration because there is no matter, only vibration. The incantations and instrumentations of a culture define its trajectory! And yet we see the maestros of our time bowing down to the toilet gods of record company, radio, and Rolling Stone—the anything-for-a-buck whores of Babylon—selling not only their souls but the collective soul of an entire race for $.08 a download and $.006 per stream! What a travesty. The digitization and democratization of art has a dark side and evidently the collective amnesia we are suffering as to what constitutes greatness is a consequence of making things faster, easier, and more accessible.
In 1986, Paul Simon released his critically acclaimed album “Graceland”, which boldly set about “blending the South African township music known as mbaqanga with American pop, along with a dollop of Louisiana zydeco.”1 It is undoubtedly one of the greatest musical achievements of all time—capturing something truly unique and timeless. But what proceeded the juggernaut of “Graceland”, Paul’s 1990 follow up album "Rhythm of the Saints”, is equally transcendent and ambitious in its willingness to go beyond, both stylistically and in terms of musical integrity.
Stephen Holden writing for the New York Times, 1990:
Instead of black South African pop, its underpinnings are the traditional rhythms of Brazil and West Africa that were carried to the new world with the slave trade and became the ceremonial rhythms of Afro-Roman Catholic religions in South America and the Caribbean. As he did for “Graceland”, Mr. Simon went to the source to record important elements for the album. He made four trips to Brazil and one to Paris to work with the many South American percussionists and West African musicians that dominate the record.
He then began to weave the web that would become the final tapestry by accessing an ever-expanding network of musicians. The album roster reads like a who’s who of elite musicianship, tapping the likes of Milton Nascimento, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Giovanni Hidalgo, Michael Brecker, Steve Gadd, and scores of other masters from around the world. This album is an audio collage of influences, layers, flavors, and interpretations masterfully produced and guided by Simon himself. You can feel the souls in the family of contributors that helped to realize this vision. By leaving in tact the realness of the instrumentation and keeping as a priority the purity of the vibration, this collection of ancient rhythms and poetry is elevated to legendary status. I doubt very much that creating a legendary work was the conscious intention of this album—it never is for projects that become so—but legendary art, true art, always carries the energetic signature of the artist, which is imparted upon the creation in the moments of willingness to disappear to themselves and be used as a conduit for the great spirit. That level of honesty never deteriorates amid a dishonest world. True art shines forever.
You can find “Rhythm of the Saints” on Spotify or Youtube—
take your meds—
Meditation is the cure, baby. Come get a dose of reality.
What kind of Samsaradise would this be if I didn’t include a meditation?
Samaneri Jayasāra is a Buddhist nun ordained in the Theravāda forest tradition and living at the Viveka Hermitage, a small house settled in the Eurobodalla Shire in southern NSW, Australia. On her youtube channel, she reads from the masterworks of ancient sages across various sects of spirituality, the words often set to unobtrusive Tibetan bell or chant music. What makes her channel exceptional is twofold: the exquisite curation of writings that are shared and her incredibly beautiful voice. This channel is a hidden gem—an enormous wealth of resources, every last word dripping in clarity.
Most of you who know me from The House of the Spirits on Instagram may already be familiar with the teachings of Nisargadatta Maharaj. Here, Samaneri has compiled excerpts from Maharaj’s “I Am That”, translated by Maurice Frydman. This kind of undeniable truth rings like a bell and resonates in the mind long after the meditation ends.
Set aside an hour and let these words of truth work their magic on your consciousness.
the final word—
I am closing every issue of Samsaradise with a celebratory nod to the wonderful souls who inspire worthwhile conversations in my life: something wise a friend said to me this week. Cheers to you.
“(There’s) a mindset thing I’ve been working on this year. I grew up with the typical middle class mindset that one of the goals in life is to make it less difficult. Totally wrong. The struggle is the purpose. The responsibility is the purpose. Do things because they are difficult and complicated. The universe rewards people who are capable of running toward difficult problems for a sustained period of time. In christianity—the idea of picking up the cross and carrying it—(this is the) same concept in a simple form. You only have a brief window of time when you’re young and smart and resilient and pretty. It would be a vulgar waste if you’re not using that brief window to run toward the most difficult and worthwhile things you can conceptualize doing.
(Decide) what is the most difficult thing you could do, given your ability, that would do the most good and serve the highest purpose, and then align yourself in the aim of that and struggle toward it.”
What are you loving right now? We want to hear from you.
Paul Simon’s Journey to Brazil and Beyond, by Stephen Holden, New York Times, October 14, 1990.
Great idea 🔥