Late Night Songwriting

Tonight, I'm trying to recreate something from a few weeks ago. Same lighting, same screens, and same seating. My time here in this place is coming to a close; I'll be leaving Deerbrook Gardens. I want to make sure I use this time wisely.

Writing has changed a lot for me over the past few months. I used the board to formulate ideas for so long, that I forgot the roots of this craft: The midnight hours, the drifting thoughts, the spontaneity of melody--I forgot about this. 

As of late, I've been dealing with thoughts quickly & momentously whenever it comes to milling them into song. Previously, songs would be a hollow void of melody that would be constructed, and then filled with thought and lyric. Tonight, I produced lyric, melody, and feeling all at once. Making decisions on the fly. It takes times. One has to sit, and give themselves to the process of writing.

I stopped using drugs over a year ago, and I was very interested in how my art would change because of this. I'm starting to see those differences now.

Whenever you stand in one place, it's hard to understand what it's like to be in another. Whenever I was writing Bulbs I had no idea what I was going to write about next, or even what it would even sound like. Even further, the music that I began to write immediately following Bulbs has somewhat ceased, or at least, taken back seat to these quickly ejected conclusions of my currents thoughts.  

At this point, I'm closer to a new original record than not. I speaks a bit more to the thought of never know what you're going to write about. I thought I had something going, and in reality, something completely different happened. I guess that's a regular part of life. 

 

Nameless; Love, Lust, & Loss

It's been a long time since I wrote about him here. Thoughts of him have been normal, and seemingly harmless for a while now. 

I guess it all started a some day this past week. I went out to a car to get the pertinent information off of it. I heard a song come on the radio that was part of the collection that mark he and I's time together. There hasn't been a day that has gone by since he died that I haven't thought about him, but my emotions remain in control. Once I heard that song, though, I was stopped in my tracks. 

That was only the start. I had some of the most vivid dreams of him on Friday night waking up going into Saturday. I saw him in about three different settings, and unlike most dreams where I've seen him, we actually touched each other. We were in what seemed to be Dylan Oubre's back yard in the mid 90's in the early morning. I asked him if I could touch him, and he said yes. I could see his body, and feel his embrace.
The scean changed and I was brought to an unknown. He was there, but he was disappearing. The song "l'll be" from Edwin McCain was playing. It was like we were singing the lines back and forth to each other. 

"I'll be love suicide," he'd say,
"I'll be better when I'm older," I'd say.

Over and over. It made wake up rough. Dreams like that insight the senses, and make you regret waking up... and so I did on Saturday morning. I turned the song on and proceeded to sort through the emotions; I got know where. 

I don't know where to start: 

Maybe with the part about 'no closure': I think that is something that anyone who's dealt with immediate death deals with, so I'll accept that. I think for the most part I have.

Then there is the part where there is no one else for me to really relate with about him. We didn't have any friends between the two of us. It was just he and I at the end. Any one that knew us only saw us from the outside. 

I've experienced death twice since him. but maybe it's because he was the first. 

What about love? What about sin? I don't have to make excuses for myself. I knew that whenever he and I were together that we were out of God's will. I knew that I was far away, and that we were drifting out in space together. Weeks before he killed himself, I was struggling to seeks the Lord. I wanted out. There were demons, darkness, and drugs. It was a true 'bad romance'. But he was my friend, he was my confidant. 

He was my Lover... It's like I don't want to admit it. It's like I don't want to admit that I miss him. It's like I don't want to remember that we were intimate. To remember these things would be the same as validating sin. So what is my complaint. If he was still here, I would just be trying run from him. If he was still here, we would be using drugs, we would be fighting, we would be living in sin. 

My emotions are bleak. My heart is afraid to beat. We were lost in love, and sinking into death. Somehow I escaped it, and he didn't. 

Maybe I could sing a sad love song to him. Maybe through him I can see a reason for those poor love songs. Is he worthy of that? Was what he and I shared really worth such reverence? I ashamed to admit that I wish I could wrap the memories of him in melody. I'm ashamed to admit that...

I miss him.

 

 

New Structure & Purpose

Tonight I had my last practice with SAVERCOOL for a while. This year has been very tell for me in what it is I'm doing as a musician and as an artist. With the past few performances with my set, Savercool, and Deondra's set, I've come to know what it is I want and don't want: what is important to me and what's not.

I don't want to play music for people who aren't interested in hearing me. Pretty straight forward idea really. I've played about three or four shows this year where people were genuinely uninterested in the performance (which is to be expected), but what's the point in that? What is the purpose. Why would you waste your time "casting your pearls".

I want to write again, and focus my thoughts and artistic drive towards my craft. I don't feel like I've been able to give myself to that because I'm stretched so thin. Ten years ago when I first wrote "Flamingo Fandango", I had a lot of time to refine that music. I had a lot of spare time to concentrate on recording, and words, and research, and meditating on melodies that my heart was singing. I had more time to give to my instrument in practice. The more I adult, the more I have less time to do the things I love. Not to mention, it's difficult to do your own music whenever you've just spent two hours rehearsing for someone else's project.

I want to continue with the church. That is ultimately the most fulfilling play time I have as a musician. I've met with the Lord with music on many occasion in private, and to meet him like that in a corporate environment is where I find a true purpose; it's something divine. I feel like I've been lying to myself by saying that I want to chase this dream of musical pop star. When I was a child, I wanted that--and a part of me still does--but a bigger part of me want to seek a greater communion with Jesus and the God of the Bible. It's an honor to be a musician in the house of the Lord, and I don't want to take it lightly anymore. I don't want to pretend that it's not the high light of my week. To sing songs of reverence and praise to the Great Architect of the Universe, Jehovah God, and enlist the people in the room with you to join in is chorus is a high calling in my opinion. 

In 1998 the church began grooming me musically, for this time of my life. This time I'm going to pursue the path that I was destined to fulfill. 

I may play a gig here and there, and I'm definitely going to continue writing and recording music, but now it's standing up for what I believe in: Identifying with my Christian heritage and upbringing. 

I started writing this entry because I have had a strange shift in the visual context in which I see myself artistically. The following images show the iconography that is above my piano in my writing place. Like always, this space has somewhat organically arranged itself. Also, Like always, I can see a narrative developing: a theme. This is a bit outside of the realm of the board but in this intangible existence these images exist in the same place. It almost beg to give a different title to the board.

This has always been a sacred place for me. 

A digital recreation

,

Love Songs and the Like

,

My perspective of music changes with every passing year. The older I get the more my understanding of this gift grows deeper: elaborating on the unseen realm that the music exists in.

My latest thoughts today are about Love Songs, and songs that specify a commentary about, or that conversation towards another human. Whether in love or admiration, I'm beginning to find love songs some what of a waste. 

Maybe it's because I've never really been in love. I've definitely written songs that were for or towards certain people that I care about, but in this season of writing I'm coming to find this practice a waste. 

Almost Idolatrous...

I should go ahead and say it that my music has been God centered in subject matter since I got serious about writing in 2007. I've also been engaged in playing for the church for almost 5 years now. Music has become a tool for me--used to pay homage, and show reverence. Sure, I am still entertained by music, but it's greater purpose, is in an evocation or a worship setting.

So whenever I hear these really good songs that are about someone's lover, I have to ask myself,

"Do you feel that greatly about this person that you would give them such a masterpiece?" 

"Is this person really worthy of receiving this great piece?"

"Is there even a person behind these lyrics and emotions, or is it just a scarecrow that 's used to prop up a good melody and hook?"

I believe the worship setting alleviates these types of questions, but I don't think that every song has to be about God or Jesus to be considered good or relevant, but I guess as the years go by I'm more interested in what's important, eternal, and intangible. 

Love Songs--and the like--seem to just be a frivolous waste. 

<ramble ramble ramble>

New Record & It's been busy

"For five years now I have opened the first quarter with a campaign for my music; This year has to be the most busy."

THIS INTANGIBLE EXISTENCE is the words and music of Terrell Brinlee. The project started in 2010 almost mistakenly, "I was renting a room in the Humble area, and I started blogging. I titled the blog This Intangible Existence, and it just stuck from there." The title expresses the idea of the spirit or inner man; the reality of each human's intangible self.

"I've always wanted to be a musician, and a singer/songwriter. I feel like this year is the first time that I actually believe that I am." Since 2012, Terrell has been gathering his musical catalog, recording intimate solo performances of works that he began writing 2007. "Right after high school I got really serious about writing my mantra. I don't feel like I knew exactly what that was at the time, but on this side of it, I feel like I was really being guided to say things I have."

"I met Richard Savercool in 2011, and he really encouraged me to start working towards a more professional high end sound. We worked together for a short time on Campaign One;, and soon after that I started my solo work with Billy Hillman."

Each collection of songs produced annually have their own flavor, their own time stamp, and own narrative. Not all have been original compositions, as with this year. The newest record, That You Are Mindful of Him, will be released in February, and is a distilled and airy interpretation of praise and worship music. "Just because you don't have anything to say, it doesn't mean that you should be saying anything. The majority of my work is Christ-centered, and being a church musician, it's important for me to display this part of my work in my recordings. Aside from the great commission, I have a calling on my life to sing the gospel."

The new record features songs from artists like Aaron Shust, Soweto Gospel Choir, and Keith Green, who has been a big inspiration for Terrell over the past two years. "Keith Green was an innovator in his time, and his music is so wholesome and uncompromising when it comes to talking about Jesus. That kind of boldness is something I would like in my own work."

"I wanted to pick songs that were a bit dated and obscure. Even though I didn't write the music, I wanted it to be perceived that it was original work." But the ending track, "Good Good Father" made popular by Chris Tomlin would give it all away. "The record needed to be a bit recognizable; I want people to sing along. Initially I was going to do "Your Great Name", but after the recording I had to boot it. It was too vocally demanding the way I wanted it presented, and at the end of recording, I knew it was too poor of a performance." 

The new record, That You Are Mindful of Him, will be available on February 15 in all major digital outlets including , and will be the fifth studio recording for This Intangible Existence. Be sure to catch Terrell and the rest of the band at WareHouse Live in Houston on March 25, for tickets click here.

"Campaign; One" Available on Spotify, iTunes, & Google Play

I wanted to drop a line, and let everyone know that my EP, Campaign One;, is now available across the internet for download or streaming in most digital music providers. 

It features Richard Savercool's awesome edit of "Flamingo Fandango" as well as two other full length tracks he produced in his studio while we were serving a Freedom Family Church in Patton Village. I wanted an opportunity to showcase this work, so I put it together primarily as a promotional piece for Antiquarian Floods. The digital version also includes the updated artwork that is featured in the "listen" tab of my site. 

There is a lot of fun wrapped up in this record, and I hope it's enjoyed. For a hard copy of the record see the "buy" tab in the navigation. 

 

Two Blue Dots In the Sky

I was reminded of this image just the other day. 
& how I was enamored with it.

How I held to it's meaning. 
How I waiting for it's expectations. 
How I was convinced of what I couldn't see.

Now I'm embarrassed by it's place.
Now I'm made ill by my--still--foolish longing for its design.
Now I'm burdened by its magic.

Low was this place in my life.
Low was call I made
Low was where the spirits came from



Winter Sun: Rehersals after Sam

"The winter here is cold, and bitter; it chills us to the bone..."

New songs emerge ready for the studio.

My thoughts are a bit bleak this Winter. It's easy to say that I'm not as destroyed as I was two years ago, or even just a year ago. It's clear though that the winter sun--or lack there of--takes it's toll on my body.  Earlier this year I had received prayer of healing from depression. It was seemingly effective.  What has become so disheartening of this season is that I find myself depressed. Friends made it clear to me that even though Lazarus was brought back from the dead, he was still subject to death. That's unless he's still alive somewhere, and we don't know it; I'm sure that's not the case. 

This year I'm sober, and have dealt with all of this in sound mind. The music is still to come in January. I have been most lazy in rehearsing for the studio. The track list is strange; I've never gone in with this kind of plan or itinerary. Initially I was going to do a complete worship album, but as the time carried on, some new songs emerged. These songs had never existed before, and weren't part of my stock pile or the things in my slow cooker. Through dreams and petitions they arose. I knew that I would need to take them to the studio, so that they were down before die. 

In the slow cooker, waiting to be revealed. 

I've had an impending since of doom lately, and an urge to "handle my business". So, this year will be a studio year of utility. I'll be recording the originals that have made themselves prevalent, as well as the worship set that I gathered. Most importantly, I will be recording some scratch work of the things in the slow cooker. This will be so I can go over them through out the year, and determine what is trying to be said through them. This is a first for me at the studio.

This fleeting reality.

Worst of all of these things is the death of my brother, and my non response. Maybe I'm subconsciously dealing with it? I'm not I'm angry about it more than anything. I'm angry that he couldn't maintain relationships. I'm angry that the people that have inherited his legacy are irrelevant to my grieving process. I'm angry that he's dead, and we last left each other with such a petty argument. I'm angry. I'm not sad. I'm angry that I've been dealt this card of response.

I'm mad because of this fleet reality. People can be so important, and hold major rolls in the influence of ones life. They are aloud to participate or not. All too often we choose to keep ourselves separated and isolated from those who need us.

One day we're just gone, though. Never to be spoken to; never to be reconciled to our role. We become that vapor, and we're carried off by the wind. No goodbyes. No apologies. No recovery. 

"Explosions, on the day you wake up needing somebody, and you've learned: It's ok to be afraid, but it will never be the same."

Dream Sequence; Titans

I was at the shell gas station across the street from Beckwith's. I was facing Beckwith's, and some sort of explosion happened behind me. There were these large animals--as big as buildings. They were destroying things. 

One of the beasts passed over me, and broke the glass out of my car. A blue light came on the dash board that I'd never seen that said "Return" along with a symbol. My vehicle would barely drive at this point. There was no power upon acceleration. 

I ended up getting my vehicle across the street, and the animals had passed. Many people were coming to Beckwith's with there cars with the same light on their dash boards. It was a signal sent out by the government that caused the problem to occur. Only the manufacturer could fix the problem. 

--- Jump Scene

I'm in a movie theater. With Lynn and her Mom. I'm drinking during the film: Jack and Coke. I offer drinks to Lynn's who then gives them to her mom.

Food Problems & Image Complex

I've been dieting now for a week. Part of me really wanted to just lose some weight; the other part of me wamtef to see my abs. Regardless of what diet I'm doing, it's just that, a diet. I'm hungry--all the time, and in trying to be mature about it; however, I'm getting really emotional over the fact that it's $0.50 corndog day at Sonic, and I don't get to participate. 

Let's define terms: I'm not over weight, at all. In fact, by looking at me you would think I could stand to gain a few; but I'm no Abercrombie model either. "Then why?"

I have to be straight up honest with myself (and the internet)---I have an image complex. 

I see myself, and don't like what I see. 

To go further, I ha e a food addiction that has become inflamed since I quit smoking cigarettes almost five months ago. 

I have a major problem on my gands, that has a deep root in my heart. Being aware of the throne I have given addiction before, I may have stumble upon an elitist that has been lurking in the shadows, secretly pulling strings.

 

 

 

Dream Sequence: Goats

A few weeks ago, I had the following dream; I wrote it down in a word document, so that I could uphold the details, but never posted it:

----

I dreamed.

I purchased a house in the suburbs.

I was young, like a child.

I had a boyfriend.

He was Columbian with long hair.

We were playing in the back yard.

He went to the neighbor’s house. They were not home.

In the back yard I saw a strange white deer. It was female.

I went to the neighbor’s house where my boyfriend and his brother were jumping on the neighbors trampoline.

I didn’t want to be there.

My bills were laying around in paper trays on the trampoline. I told them that I wanted to leave and that my bills shouldn’t be here.

I went back to my house, and I found that the deer I saw had birthed a new born.

The new born was in a circle of trees like at the end of fern gulley.

My boyfriend came by and told him to look at the new white deer. He said that it was making a funny face, and then he imitated it.

I was behind him, and I had my hands around his midsection as we were crouching down. He was a bit out of shape, and I didn’t like it.

Whenever I woke up I realized that the deer was not a deer. It was a goat. And that’s why my boyfriend said it was making a funny face. Because it was a goat face.

Dream Sequence: The Witch of Endor

My recollection of the dream starts off in a million different places. Malls, and shopping centers, and grocery stores. Low ceilings like in departments stores. 

Then all of a sudden I'm down the street... with my parents; however it's not Paula and Ricky. I needed to get to the Kroger across the street. It was night time, and there was the amber glow of street lights. The street was very busy like 1960 in Spring. I was driving a car to get across, and picked up a Mexican Man who needed to cross. He and I spoke briefly, but I had never met him.

Crossing the street, and in to the store, I was in the bathroom supply section: like face wash and shower gel. I met up with my Pastor, Mike, and he told me that we would meet up with a woman who practiced the same sorcery as the Witch of Endor. So then we went to my apartment.

My memory leads me to another part of my dream sequence that may or may not have been related.----
My sister Vicky had large portrait-oriented, framed, poster-sized photographs printed. They were sibling related: one was of Gordon, Becky, Vicky, and Kevin all sitting at a table next to a beautiful building having dinner, and looking at the person taking the picture. They weren't smiling, rather, their faces were solemn. There was another one of that was of she and I; it was a collage of sorts: showing different pictures of us together. She had others that I could see. There were none of Sam. Sam's picture, however, showed up in little places here and there--like Easter eggs--------

Back in my other dream with Pastor Mike, Ashely Norton, and other people from the church. We were waiting for this woman to give us a "teaching". She walks into the room, and she is like stick figure drawing (shown). She had a very high voice: very soft and pleasent. 

She said that she would start the ceremony that she came to do. I was confused at first because I thought that she was going to be giving a teaching, or something along those lines. I didn't resit her magic, however, I laid down on the couch upside down; my feet on the back of the sofa, and my back on the seat. She sat on top of me and started to power my nose with a little white fluffy ball, and white powder. She spoke words over me with her little voice quietly the whole time. She ended her deal by wrapping her arms around me and and having me do the same to her. She was petite and frail. She then did something to crack my back, and at that point there was a non-sexual climax in my body, and I was moaning loudly as though something was released. My friend Ashely got up and left the room as though she wasn't going to take part in it anymore. The Woman would be performing the same practice on all the people in the room. With this I woke up.

Again, My memory leads me to another bit of dream that also occurred that may or may not be related to the main narrative. I was at the end of my Dad's neighborhood, Green Acres, where there were no houses. I was on a mattress that had no sheets on it, and I was laying on my stomach. I wasn't able to walk, and I was dragging the mattress along under my belly as I crawled along inch by inch. While there Jerry from Impact showed up. He told me something that I don't exactly recall, but it was something along the lines of, "Get Up". 

Dream Sequence: Courts & Tiny Chapel

It's difficult to remember this early. 

There was a court room. It was where I worked, or where I was being judged. The courtroom was part of a city, and left a block, and around the corner was a tiny chapel. It seemed to be Catholic in design.

The chapel was surrounded by a rod iron fence covered in vines. There was an older black lady there who kept the ground of the chapel. She was like a Nun, or either a very devout person of faith. She knew my name. 

I walked over to the chapel once by myself, and went in. The yard that the chapel sat on was concrete all the way around, and tucked with two buildings perpendicular to the corner it sat on. The chapel itself was small maybe about five foot by five foot with only enough room to sit in. There was iron bars around the chapel itself. It appeared to be locked. The door was spring loaded, like a screen door would be, and would snap shut when opened. 

Inside there was one tiny window, and a wooden bench. The walls were painted with a very old murals that escape me. The wall that you faced as you sat was inscribed with what I recalled as a prayer--perhaps the Lord's Prayer, or something that a catholic would recite.

On a separate occasion I went to the chapel with two other guys. They seemed like popular you tube personalities, but they were both gay. We went to the chapel from he courts, and all three of us went in. 

I recall a statement I said, "What will people think seeing us three going into this chapel" or something like that. We weren't there for supplication, rather we were goofing off. We knew we had to be back at the courts within a certain amount of time. 

I learned at this point that the chapel and the courts were connected, and that the courts would prescribe time spent in the chapel.

As I left the black lady who kept the grounds questioned my being there in a motherly tone, as if she knew I was goofing off. 

Thoughts Forming & "Four Hard Corners"

I wanted to post a little update to show this picture that I came across from my past. While I was writing in 2010/2011 I was brought to the concept of "Four Hard Corners", and how they defined the monolithic paradigm switch that I was upon artistically. It would move my song writing process from a phonetic style of construction to a visual style that would involve color, texture, and pallet. Some five years later I can look back now, and see the beginnings of the board.  The picture shown to the right is the cover of the fourth book I wrote in before the burning. It wonderful the foreseeing that is art.

The Guilt of a Nation & My Own

Retreat to your mind
Harvest the hollowed gourds and fill them with song
Fill them with the things of depravity:
Summer's Lust
I-10
Broken Law

My own Guilt
& the Guilt of a Nation

Love Wins / Love Wins
Barack Obama / Rob Bell

I never thought that gay marriage would not be legalized; I believed it was inevitable, though I do feel like it was a bit all of a sudden. Maybe someone who was following the story a bit more closely would think other wise.

This will bring a judgment to the nation, but I don't think it's a judgment that wasn't already upon us prior to the legalization of gay marriage. I believe that God is biding his time for America, and thankfully so. That could be considered a cop out, but my heart feels the swelling of the end of the age. That is to say that it's not the beginning of a new age already. 

My thought on all of this have been amended on this world.

Geocentrism 
The Jew 
Music
Sorcery
The Spirit
My Savior 
Reflex Blue
 

O' Reflex Blue
 

Woodsboro Baptist: A Complete Thought

A few weeks back I started down a rabbit trail. I spoke too quickly, and too briefly about this subject, and it caused a lot of drama on Facebook. Now, I'm at a good enough distance that I can speak from a better vantage point.

Before I talk any further about this I have to say that I am in no way affiliated with Westboro Baptist Church, other than the fact that I am a Christian who seeks a greater understanding of Jesus Christ. 

Follow Me...

I was watching videos on the internet, and I saw the following: 

Everyone in America has seen the protest that these people have done, and know what kind of people they are. Given that this video is circa 2011, I'm sure that Westboro Baptist Church is synonymous with hate speech by this time. 

Two minutes into this video I believe that everything is pretty normal. Shirley quotes some foundations of her doctrine, all of which can be referenced Biblically. Tyra rapid fires questions at Shirley as to display her many peculiar beliefs to here audience, and with that the heat in the room is created. The camera pans to a gay man in audience as he writhes. 

I was offended by this video for many reasons, but the main reason that led me to today was this: This is how America has viewed Christianity; as a hate monger. And at the end of this interview no one accepts Jesus. 
All the while, the truth that the Bible speaks was given. 

I continued down the rabbit hole of Westboro Youtube Videos. The next video I watched is shown here:

Note that there are 4 videos in this series, and I would recommend watching all of them. I watched this during my lunch break, and subsequently was late getting back because I had to finish it. There are definitely some weird things here that anyone would find strange--But I don't believe they are "wrong" or "crazy". 

I love Shirley's boldness; it shows in the entire lot of these people. At this point in the timeline many people have left her church, and her response is priceless: she flat out doesn't care, "Bye!". 

Later that Night I found the next video that ultimately would bring me to my social media ruin:

The following is my post where I share the video:

If I could change anything about this statement, I would remove the  words "spot on". 

I also want to be clear (because I wasn't in the post) that though I said my beliefs had changed from what they were before, it didn't mean that my beliefs totally aligned with Woodsboro. Also, the "religious zealot" hashtag that accompanied this post was a wink to audience, and a bit of sarcasm; however, I want to show the points that I do directly agree with. They are as follows: 

"...suddenly they don't know what the Bible says" [this is probably the main point]

"Do we need to discuss having sex in the park?" [Really, this part is just kind funny, I wonder what it would sound like on a loop]

"What about God hates workers of iniquity? What about these plain words of scripture?" [Here she quotes countless scriptures broadly, but it's mostly derived from Jesus in Matthew 7 saying, "And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me ye that work iniquity". The word Iniquity means lawlessness. The law that Jesus is referring to here is the Torah, or the first five books of the Bible (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Deuteronomy, and Numbers).]

"These people are in a furry about 'God Hates'" [She quotes scripture powerfully whenever she talks about Malachi 2:17, speaking on the average person's response to her ministry.] 

The connection she makes between Pompeii and Sodom really caught my attention. I can't say it's exactly solid yet (I would have to do more research), but I think she makes a great point.

At 19:00 she speaks of prophecy, and is pretty "spot on" ;) Anyone who subscribes to New World Order talk or Illuminati conspiracy would agree. Many people looked at George Bush as a Christian; It is my belief that no man with true Christian values would ever make it to office.

"This is the, 'I'm gonna get even with you up in here because you've been telling us these words that we hate.' Well go for it. Go for it. Because God know there isn't anything hidden." [Her boldness is awesome.]

"Don't try to trick people into obedience, just tell them the words plain and straight."

Whenever the questions start from the students the same type of cornering happens that I believe happened in the Tyra video. I believe everyone in the room hates Woodsboro, and honestly doesn't want to come to understanding of Shirley's truth. They want to ask questions that might pin Shirley down, and find a hole in logic. She doesn't back down from any questions, and answers firmly quickly, and doesn't give anyone time to snare her. Some would call that argumentative, but in "this" scenario, I call it seeing through bull shit. Her boldness is "spot on" to stand up to a group of secular college kids and not be shot down.

Other times in this video where I applaud her are as follows:

31:00 - 32:00 - 38:00 [Do what you got to do..] - 38:40 [You ignorance is no excuse... and how she explains herself]

"You should not be sensitive or thinned skinned about matters of your dying soul"

40:00 [I love their spell casting chants] - 43:00 - 45:00 - 46:44 - 52:00 [she stumbles and shows shame; that is part of repentance] - 57:30 [the people are more interested in mocking her to her face] - 58:50

---

After this, I posted some more videos that I watched that helped broaden my perspective of Woodboro:

These videos didn't get any comments like my first one did. 

My journey of learning about Woodsboro ended with hearing Fred Phelps' son's testimony. It was a sad story. It was a sad story because he'd completely left from faith in Jesus Christ in the end. 

These words from Timothy are definitely missing from the preaching of Westboro Baptist. I think that is very clear. 

What I respect most about Woodsborow is that they believe so hard. They are not ashamed of what the Bible says, and they ingest it in raw form. It's taken me a few weeks to come to this conclusion; at first I wasn't sure how to formulate my thought, but I guess it can be summed up as follows:

I have a deep respect for Christian believers who are uncompromising of The Word, or The Bible, regardless of what others may think of them, and who demonstrate audacious faith. 

That is something that is missing is modern Christianity, and something I seek to grow into. 

Dream Sequence: The Cage

I was walking down the east bound side of FM 1960 in Humble, across from the First Assembly of God church and Beckwith's Car Care. There I met a creole dark-skinned black man with a white parrot. He was dressed very homely: wearing a white wife-beater that was dark colored from his doings. He was thin with very short curly hair.
As he approached me he asked me to come and see his home, and I agreed. 
I followed him in between the properties of the church and Beckwith's to a place set off deeply in the woods.
His home was in an incredibly thick brush that walled the boundaries of the area. The area was rectangular, and divided into three separate sections. I don't recall passing through the first section. The second section was like his workplace, or like a shed that one would have behind their house. There was a brush line that divided it from the third section with a cut out path at the left side of the area. This aloud passage to the third section.
He kept leading me towards the third section, and I followed without hesitation.
There I was shown a cage.
As we walked closer to it he told me that he was "keeping them there for more of a homeopathic study". I asked him if he would have doctors come in to look at them, and he replied no. Not much else of our conversation do I recall.
the cage was was square and long, and had another structure built around it that covered it from the elements. The cage had multiple parts and shafts in it, like a raccoon trap.  There was a section cut out of it closer to it's top so that his parrot could fly in an out of it; I believed that the cage was for his parrot. His parrot flew in, and greeted him as he knelt by the cage, and spoke to me more about the cage. There was an adult pig roaming about in this third section as well. His parrot was dirty, and his feathers resembled that of dirty wool on a sheep.

As I peered into the cage I saw a woman's hand and arm come forward that gestured for the man to give her food. Looking in deeper I could see the face of a child in it as well. I realized that there were people in this cage. The man told me he found them in the woods, but I knew he was lying. I asked if he was going to keep them there, and he implied yes. 
I told him that I had to leave, and headed leave. Once I got to the second section I realized that I couldn't leave the people there, and I had to do something. As I turned around to go back to the cage the man was standing in the path between the second and third section, and he'd drawn a knife on me. The whites in his eyes had turned blood red, and he embodied a wickedness that was previously not in him.
I'd managed to grab the knife from him, and started to attack him; however, the knife was very dull and rusty, and the man had strangely thick and leathery skin.
He laughed at me as I tried to stab him in the face with the knife, as if he knew that the knife was not sharp enough. He then pulled out another knife that was sharper. There was a struggle for a moment, but I got the knife from him.
In a simultaneous moment I stabbed him in the mouth and the temple --- I stabbed the man in mouth having the blade pass through the back of his head and driving it into the ground --- I stabbed the man in the left temple, and then twisted the blade.
When the fight was over my next action was to contact the police. 

Joshua and Saturn

It's taken me a long time to finish the Book of Joshua. 

Primarily because I'd become disinterested. The narrative of the story is very much about war, and Isreal destroying other Nations; I'm not much for a war story. At the end the story wraps up very neatly though. 

The book of Joshua holds the crossing of the Jordan. The time that the sun and moon stood still takes place here also. These are parts of scripture that I had always known about--I may have even heard a sermon or two on these subjects, but I've never completely heard the words straight through. 

The book is summarized wonderfully in the 24th chapter. The Israelites are allotted their land & promise from God, and Joshua dies. There are a couple of verses that have shown themselves relevant to me within Joshua's final proclamation to the people of Isreal. I would like to share those.

"Now therefore fear the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in truth: and put away the gods which your fathers served on the other side of the flood, ad in Egypt; and serve ye the Lord"

The term, "on the other side of the flood", is special to me. I can see the metaphorical flood in my life, the things it destroyed, and the remnants of giants left behind. Recently, I've been learning about the occult symbolism that has been associated with the planet of Saturn; it is often paralleled with Satanism, Kabbala, and the Kaaba in Mecca. 

As a young composer of songs, I was unaware of what was involved. As my mind started to fill in the blanks of the world I was creating through my method of symbols and sounds, I came to identify myself as Saturn. Some ten years later, having completed formal recording of my work, I look back at the alters to other gods I've built within the artistic realm. I've created myself as an enemy against the God of Isreal. I liken it to the acts of Ballem.

Still, I want to know the God of Isreal, Jesus, and His Holy Spirit. 

I'm wrapped in these rings of Saturn, and I'm rising on the horizon of Enceladus; As Lazarus was wrapped in the dressings of a dead man, when Jesus called him from the tomb. 

This is what I believe; however, I can't omit that these conclusions of mine are that of the Lord's completely, and I'm called to vigilance.

Composition is at a halt indefinitely. I can't say that I'm upset right now. My motives haven't been as clear as I wished they'd been, and it's time that I not be so frivolous with my words.

Recording Complete

I'm excited to say that the recording for my record is complete. 

I have had the recordings for a couple of weeks, but there is always a bit of postpartum disgust with the finished product. I had the oppertunities to meet with a lot of close friends and family to present it to, so that I could gather my confidences with it. 

The record is titled "Bulbs", and is my most intement collection of songs over the time since I moved to Houston. It's also the third installment of recordings that I done with Hilltrax Studios.

I had a hard time in the studio this year around. The songs were meticulous this year around, and the subject matter was difficult to express--illusive, to say the least.

I've a lot of support during this time from my family and the church, and I want to say that they were more than instrumental in making it very possible; all my need were met during the time, and I was able to completely hoan in on my work. 

The record will be made available in the next few weeks over a verity of outlets across the web, so stay tuned to my Facebook and my Instagram.

And as always you can find me here at  This Intangible Existence dot com. :)

 

 

Cart (0)