Similar to my "Day of the fours" post, I figure it's time to talk about a few things. It's 05/05/05 and this world just gets odder and odder. First of all... Let's just stay out of Florida and Georgia for a while. Those are just hotbeds of oddities these days... Between missing children showing up dead in an industrial swamp (that just doesn't smell right) to missing girls and sex predators to the folly of Yuppie scum who stage their own kidnapping because they got 'cold feet' for their wedding. This morning I woke to stories of makeshift grenades exploding at the British Consulate place terrorist panic back into the minds of New Yorkers.
What I find amusing is the resurgence of god and Catholicism in politics and media...intensified since the death of Pope John Paul II and the installation of Pope Benedict XVI. Teens are reported to have value changes to abstain from sex and other vices. This may sound great to some, but it will most likely fade like the post 9/11 "neighborly feeling of brotherhood". Goodness in the world has a limited shelf life when human nature returns to its natural course. It is amazing how people deny themselves the smallest pleasures in life for the sake of unknown, intangible benevolence. I guess that's what faith is all about. This led to an interesting discussion amoungst colleagues on the differences between god and religion vs. Magick, ethereal existence and the paranormal forces of the world. Both rely on some semblance of faith.
Speaking of magick and faith, I want to tell you of a dream I had the other night... Mull this over and surmise the meaning.
The dreams return.
I'm following this raven haired woman through suburban streets. Could she be a new addition to my musical cause? I don't know...but here I am, covertly stalking this woman. She's attractive, yet I do not follow her for any romantic reason. I seem to be drawn to her aura or something.
Down the street, I almost lose her as she turns a corner. I see the tail of her long floral skirt disappearing into a small stucco house with a retail front.
As I arrive to this small abode, dwarfed in comparison to the city high rise buildings mere yards away, I cannot help but to notice the mystic symbols burning in neon in the window. It seems to be one of those cheesy palmistry/tarot houses. Or possibly it was a badly decorated occult shoppe. I gulped a bit with anticipation of what may lay inside.
As I entered cautiously, I looked about. The walls were a dark fuscia (go figure, a guy who knows what fuscia looks like) almost maroon, with dark gray trim. There were two glass display cases filled with occult trinkets and crystals and such. Between them was a wide staircase leading from downstairs behind the counters. The smell of incense and burning candles filled my nose. Chanting was heard from downstairs. As I milled about a bit, I suppose my footsteps alerted them to my presence. In a moment approximately 13 men and women ascended upstairs to me. The woman I was following didn't seem to be in this group. They came up in two single file lines and the center lead man asked if he could help me as I pretended to be interested in crystals. He looked at me with an intense look. I felt as if he wa looking into my very soul. "You are a soul seeking clarity, " he said. "you seek a crystal to grant you powers you once had, long left dormant from your inactive spirituality...here, I believe this is what you seek."
He pulled a crystal out of the rear of the case I had not seen. It was large, vaguely resembling a shark tooth shape, yet jagged and faceted. It was clear and polished, like glass, only it had almost a leopard style of splotches of black within itself. The mount was large, ornate in design and made of midly tarnished silver. "I think this has been waiting for you." he said. Then, like some evangelical preacher, he touched me with it. I felt an odd shock and fell back to the ground from its seemingly mystic force.
That's when I woke up. I may assume this is literally a wake up call for my spirituality to rise again. Now I begin to understand more of my mission. It's more than merely the music... Epica is a concept...a philosophy...a message. It's far more than just a music style. It's fueled my a mysticsm long gone from music, probably last seen in Fleetwood Mac. That's far too long. I'm no talking showman spirituality from shock rockers or black metal bands, but something almost tangible that an audience can feel no matter whether they are in concert or simply in the car listening to the cd.
It's a big job... however, it is my destiny. When musical ideas so beautiful plague my mind and pop in my head like by some undivine hand... These are signs. Signs that I am more than just a musician, but a conceptualist....especially since I don't read, write or play anything. It just...comes to me. Odd.