muZIK for the apocalypSE

and a hymn for the human spirit

hello friends and faithful readers of my blog, welcome back to my perfect storm - (play the clip/track below).  this is a departure from the distractions and the little annoyances we live with every day and a look back into that place we rarely go to anymore because as it seems, there's no time to.  as always,  i'd like to remain optimistic and yet proceeding with caution. survival happens one step at a time.  bad decisions haunt us.  it is in the choices we make that we all too often lose perspective on what's going on around us.  the regrets and the regression. the greed and the remorse.  the cycle of narcissism and that all too familiar aloneness.  we forget ...

it is in the reckless abandonment of our fragile human nature, the politics and the carelessness - the lies and the blame, do we relapse into default;  and yet there must always be a time of joyous reflection - recalling all the wonderful memories that we carry with us every day in this moment that we're alive. the family snapshots, the smiles ... the re-incarnations of times past  - the good and the bad - and a new appreciation of what we have here right now - to the art that inspires us and helps us to remember and embraces consciousness. and so yes - in my humble attempt to be relevant ... so ah ... tis is my muZE - my ...

muZIK for the apocalypSE

 

fade to black -

for those of us who are racing though life, there is always a need to stop EVERYTHING and think about all this on a whole different level. through the images of despair, destruction and doubt that we carry with us if we don't succeed, past the obstacles and chaos, the torture and the torment ... there is light and redemption - and in the end, there is nothing.  

we all fade to black.  so what does the end of life look like to you?  is it sitting on a bench by a placid lake and peering out into a hollow horizon that looks like the apocalypse, trapped behind the borderlines of your own making?  ... or is it about celebrating what you came to know and love?   it's all comes down to this final moment - the choices we make.  forevermore.  that next person you meet for the first time tomorrow ... is this an opportunity to embrace change - to create magic?   or is it just another feeble attempt to delay the inevitable -  because we're just too different - rising to the occasion appears to be in short supply any more.  that "higher power" that everyone talks about?  it's just a myth anyway.  

it's sad ... just too easy to turn away and procrastinate.  back into a peaceful slumber - lost in the cracks again.

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just a blip -

and so dear readers - the next time you hold back from telling someone close to you, that you love them - because the timing is wrong or you think it's not appropriate?  in the fear that you might show your real hand of cards which is a trick, or that they may just call your "bluff" - retreat - into the warm comfort of false security - into the facade.   just please - think about this ... you may not get the chance again - life is short and there's no time.   we are just a blip on the radar screen - a moment - an all too brief split second, that comes and goes in a flash of light and then slips back into the darkness - and in there somewhere - there's some really special music playing.

it's all in forgiveness and appreciation of all that is in life's remarkable gift.  in grace and in danger we breathe ... it's all over soon - brace yourself.  this is a crazy ride.  dance, love and live!

thank you for reading -

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(bump up the clip below to 720p - lower wheel 
and turn up the volume / sound)

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b  o  r  d  e  r  l  i  n  e  s

"our bodies shiver but we cannot touch

i never thought i'd need ... you

so much" 

 

composed, produced and performed by jim lamarche in 1986 at spiral studio 

58 phoebe street, toronto on a fostex A8 analog recorder.

fretless bass by dave smith - alto sax by john panchyshyn

(c) 1987 - temple music, toronto

photographs by jim lamarche - paintings by zdzislaw beksinski

email:  jimlamarche@sympatico.ca.