Categories
Homelessness Music Spirituality

Dangers of Liberation (Part Four)

This is the fourth in a five-part series, posted on five successive Thursdays.  Though the series is only quasi-chronological, I urge you to leaf through the first three first.  

Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) Drawing by GrangerThe Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard referred to the moment, not as “an atom of time,” but as an “atom of eternity.”  That’s how the moment of August 8, 2006 felt.  One might say that time stood still at that moment, and I had a glimpse of the eternal bliss we might experience in heaven.

This is one reason why I framed this series as I did.   A chronological order of events would not be as meaningful as a spiritual progression, which in a way defies time.  My first day of homelessness was not August 8, 2006 — it was May 17, 2004.  But the night of May 17, 2004 was a night of fright and awful uncertainty, afraid to make myself prone on a bench at the Burlingame CalTrain station, but sitting up all night, nodding off periodically, and watching for cops all the while.

By contrast, the event of August 8, 2006 was one of momentary ecstasy, but where did that moment lead?  Down the tubes fairly quickly, as I recall.  Its memory, however, did not fade.

That memory was in fact felt in retrospect.  For on March 19, 2004, I took a look at my badly beaten car, the front end of it crunched in like an accordion.   As I discovered the freedom of public transportation, of leaving the driving to those more capable than myself, I was granted a foreshadow of the more complete liberation I would know two years in the future.

The horror that marked my final three years in Berkeley was also foretold.  It wasn’t until June 24, 2013 that I first found myself pistol-whipped, as I watched a pair of young hooligans making off with my laptop.   But on some unknown date back in June of 2004, I had known a much more serious violation, of the kind that in civil society it is not thought proper to discuss.

The complex confluence of incongruous influences that comprised the conditions of Homelessness was never considered a drain or an overload, in the way that the Mainstream had been.  The overload of the Mainstream was that of death to my spirit.  But all the excesses of stimuli that combined to create the Homeless Adventure were health to my spirit, and marrow to my bones.

“Naked I am!” I shouted.  “I am stripped of all I have ever thought to be!  I have made myself naked and vulnerable in the face of a fully mercurial and often hostile Universe!”

I saw all my possessions be burned to bits before my eyes, the act of an unfeeling young juggaloe who hadn’t slept in days.   I was hurled to the ground by deluded gangbangers, shouting “I’m going to kill you White motherf—-r!” — as they hit me again and again with the barrels of their guns, on the head I had bowed before them.

Yet through all of those terrors, I found it in myself to sleep on my back without bedroll in a thunderstorm, exerting pelvic thrusts in the direction of the full moon, and reveling.

“Bring it on!” I screamed.  “I want more!!”

Then, getting up, fully clad and with shoes on — for I always slept in shoes, so as to be ready — I suddenly shivered.   So what did I do?   Of course, I ran as many miles as I could.

When the sun shone, and the daylight burned, I walked about the City of Berkeley and composed music in protest, having no music production software, no laptop, no possessions other than the clothes on my back.

“Bop bop bop!” came the singing of the melodies.   My weathered trowsers became as sets of drums.   Keyboads and electric guitars anointed the air, and passersby mocked me, mimicked me, and shouted: “Shut the f—k up!”  Meanwhile, seemingly unbeknowst to them, I composed the score to Eden in Babylon— in my proud opinion, the best music I have written, thus far, in life.

“That’s your whole problem,” my naysayers chided.  “You think that your music is more important than God.”

“Ah but no,” I replied.  “It’s your problem.  You think that your Mainstream IS God.”

There was nothing Mainstream about the uniqueness that was Homelessness in Berkeley.  So for all of the fears, the highs, and the rages, it yet remained sacred.

“How do we get inside again?” asked my friend Jerome.   “How do we get back inside, and yet not get sucked back into the Mainstream?”

I shouted to the Most High God in outrage.

“WHY am I hanging around pimps and hookers and drug dealers and thieves and criminals and hustlers and panhandlers?   WHY am I not hanging arund Artists and Writers and Musicians and Actors and Directors and people more like myself!?  I know — I know — these are the people who JESUS hung out with!   But I’m NOT JESUS!!! I’m NOT JESUS!!  I’m only f—ing human!!!  Give me a god-d—–d break!!!!”

Many times did I scream to the God of my youth.  Many times someone shouted back at me: “Would you just shut the f—-k up!>”

Then there were the night terrors.   “This guy,” said a jealous man, “is not going to live very much longer.”

“You know what?” I told myself.  “He’s probably right.”

So on June 24, 2016, exactly three years after the first of a series of violent assaults against my person, I went down to Bill’s Computer Store on Shattuck Avenue, bought myself a refurbished Dell laptop with my government check, and walked quietly away from the City of Berkeley without saying a word.

God then proceeded to answer every prayer I had prayed toward Him, facing His Infinite Love with hatred and vitriol.   He answered those prayers sevenfold, nay — seventy times sevenfold — in spades.   And He provided a way for me to live inside without getting sucked back into the Mainstream.   In so doing, He showed me the hugeness of His unconditional love.  

I have one more thing to say on this theme, more-or-less in conclusion. After that, I’ll be done — for now.

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A little bit goes a long, long way.

Categories
Music Musical Piano

A Whiter Shade of Pale

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A little bit goes a long, long way. 

 

Categories
Artist bible Music Piano scripture

Gratitude List 1350

Did this one Saturday morning immediately on awakening.   I’m glad I’ve given up the concept of a “morning ritual.”   Things have been working out a lot better with my new “spontaneous” approach.  (Helps with the holiday blues, too).

1. Really interesting, obviously meaningful, vivid dreams.

2. Slept almost 8 hrs between 10:30 and 6:30, getting up briefly at 4 to take my thyroid medication.  Surprised I slept so well and so long.

3. Made it to the Food Bank and this time they gave me coffee too. Walked two big bags home and nothing broke.

4. Heard from T. three times yesterday, like late at night.  She seemed to want to interact, but I was too brain-dead. Then I dreamed about her all night, and it’s interesting that I’ve gotten to No. 4 (doing this first thing on waking up) and still remember the dreams.

5. I even stopped to make coffee in the meantime, and I still remember the dreams.  Moreover, this time the coffee’s at the right strength — it’s Winko’s Classic Roast — and it tastes so good. Nice to have a coffee maker and good coffee, when it’s so cold outside. Nice to be inside. Nice to be out of the cold.

6. Heard from Jennifer, the God Thru the Arts lady, whom I believe is a music teacher back East. She liked my We Three Kings.   Sorta made my night to hear from her.  

7. I don’t seem to have a big urge or craving to smoke, or any desire to go out of my way to get any.  For me, this is a good thing. I just want the issue to be out of the way so I can stop tripping on it and be more effective in life, without it always tugging at me. And that seems to be happening, though I feel a void.

8. Thankful for those two theology groups, and the way I met them just because they were entering the reserved reading room to the right of the Round Table, and I sort of merrily joined in. The one from St. Mark’s has turned out to be a real blessing. 

9. Read all of 1 Peter and 2 Peter when I came home last night. I should read the Bible more, it has a way of making me humble.

10. Okay, so I’ve been depressed lately because it seems I don’t quite know how to love or be loved.  The things that most people seek after escape me.  They don’t interest me; I don’t understand what they think they’re going to receive from all these situations that almost invariably cause them pain.  The dream was all about that too, combined with me being in a stressed out leadership position and winding up crying on some lady’s shoulder at the end. But you wanna know what? It’s my Karma. Time to Embrace It. My lot in life, my portion – could have been a lot more meaningless.  Let God Be My Judge.  I am grateful for who I am.  

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A little bit goes a long, long way.  

Categories
Artist Creative process Music Musical Piano

Resolve

I dug this up the other day, thought I’d lost it.  It’s “Resolve” from my concept album, Abandon.  Thought it was worth sharing, if for no other reason than you get to see me without my beanie on.   (Believe me, that’s a once-in-a-lifetime appearance.)

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A little bit goes a long, long way.  

 

Categories
Artist Music Piano

California Dreamin’

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Categories
Artist Music Performing Arts Piano

A Day in the Life

The holiday threw off my plans to record a new piano piece, but I would like to offer my very dark version of “A Day in the Life,” the famous Beatles tune by John Lennon & Paul McCartney, as recorded using a Samsung Galaxy J-1.  Andy Pope at the Baldwin Grand, January 10, 2018.   Hope you enjoy it.   

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A little bit goes a long, long way.

 

 

Categories
Artist Creative process Music Musical Piano

Kum Ba Yah

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Categories
Family love Music Musical Songwriting

Bad Dream

I get tired of talking about ADHD & Dyslexia, let alone being on a autism spectrum.  Most people just wanna see & hear me hit the keys.  So let’s just say I’m a highly disorganized person, and that the hassle of trying to get these piano tubes together without a sufficient recording device (i.e. a smartphone) has been kinda like a bad dream at times.

On a brighter note, the problem should soon be solved, being as my daughter Angela will be arriving tonight for a two-month visit — complete with iPhone Six.  Henceforth, you can surely expect piano pieces promptly posted properly if not previously.  

Here’s her bold version of “Bad Dream” by one of my favorite, highly underrated artists, the great Chloe Howl. 

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A little bit goes a long, long way.  

 

Categories
Music Musical Performing Arts Piano

San Francisco

Wear some flowers in your hair the next time you visit San Francisco — and watch what happens.   “San Francisco” by Scott McKenzie.   (My take on it, anyway.)   Enjoy.  

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A little bit goes a long, long way.  

Categories
Christianity gratitude mental health Music recovery

Gratitude List 1244

Happy Labor Day.  Here’s my gratitude list from Saturday morning.   I’ll be posting three music clips and one announcement, all three hours apart, throughout the day.  Hope it all finds you blessed.    

1. Slept solidly for nine hours between 10 & 7, no sleeping pill being needed, and no sleep paralysis.

2. Observing the Sabbath, mostly reading.  Grateful for quietude.

3. Grateful for my apartment, for its “out of the way” location, for my new incentive to keep it tidy, and for my positive relationship with the landlord.

4. Glad I’m not in the awful space I was in two days ago, and grateful for the lesson of just how far into spiritual darkness the “obsession of the mind” can lead me.

5. Grateful for Matt, one of the better sponsors I’ve had.

6. First thing I read this morning was an unusually good “Got Questions” article.   It started the mind off thinking the right way on the Sabbath Day.

7. Grateful for the Day of Rest and for the knowledge that once the sun goes down, I can start working again.

8. Glad I have a computer expert for a sponsor.  Matt helped me to get the CD’s burnt correctly with a new and better CD burner.   Also installed a better free media player.

9. Open Mike was a gentle experience last night.   Grateful for my positive relationship with Dave Harlan.  I played three pieces of “improvised classical” and was able to sell three CD’s.

10. Breakfast at Courtyard in 40 minutes, Farmer’s Market thereafter.  Somebody called this place “The Town Time Forgot.”  God is Love.

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A little bit goes a long, long way.