Tag Archives: art

Feminine energy and radio towers

One of the most important things to understand is balancing feminine energy with masculine. Such strong identification with the physical body has taken place that you have lost the ability to balance feminine with masculine energies, and have actually moved toward fearing such expressions of balance.

This balance is not only natural, it is necessary for mastery.

Look to ancient symbolism in your human history, such as the yin/yang and the Star of David. Set aside all religious meaning for a moment and consider them simply as expressions of balance. The most beautiful art, paintings, architecture, etc… all have balance between masculine and feminine energies.

And yet the expression of balance of these energies in humans is somehow to be feared? Punished? Hated?

The balance of these energies in each of us recognizes — gives us the wisdom to recognize — that we are not our physical bodies. While the physicus is beautiful, a work of art in itself, it is but a crude vehicle for the expression of Spirit, and as I have said before, there is truly on the One, of which each of you is simultaneously a part and which you contain (the Whole).

Think of yourself as one piece of a puzzle. Puzzle pieces, quite literally, have both feminine and masculine expression: some protrusions, some recesses, in order to interlock with one another. This is regardless of what is printed on them. So a puzzle of a Monet painting can never be complete without every piece. Every one of you, without exception, is a vital piece of the puzzle, and at the same time, the whole puzzle. The duality you perceive is nothing more than a play of the Light.

To act out of fear, such as homophobia or sexism, is actually to deny the balance of masculine and feminine energies in oneself. In fact, to oppress anyone based on any sort of physical characteristic is to identify much too strongly with the physicus. It is a mistake (misperception) made early in the cycle/process of spiritual evolution/remembering.

You already have the technology to know that you are energy, and that energy can never be destroyed. The time has come for each of you to begin to embrace the expression of both masculine and feminine energies in yourselves and others. While sexual orientation and gender are part of this expression, it goes much deeper.

The feminine, or receptive aspect, is known for being passive, but there is an incredibly active aspect to this energy, as well. Need I remind you of the activity involved in the development of a child in the womb? Or the receptive power for a radio or microwave tower, hundreds of feet tall?

The tower obviously expresses masculine energy through its phallic imagery. But its tallness or height is also an expression of the Desire to Receive… the taller it is, the stronger is the desire to “hear.” Like that tower, you must each reach out, as high as you can, and listen as carefully, with as much vigilance as you can muster, to hear, see, feel, and sense the Source of Love radiating from every being on your planet.

To say the soul is bulletproof is not to suggest that striving to sense and recognize the soul is unimportant. Quite the contrary; the whole reason for your being here is to remember, and that happens through the recognition (re-cognition: re-knowing) of the true nature of things beyond the conceptual level.

You are not a physical body.

Stop attacking each other based on concepts of right and wrong, based on physical characteristics.

What is right is to love. Always.

Concepts of strength and power stem from the ego, or small mind. Is the oak tree strong, or weak? Good, or bad? Is the willow right, or wrong? Ugly, or beautiful? They simply ARE, in all their natural glory. So it is with every one of you.

When you seek to find and recognize the True Self, of which every one of you is an expression, you evolve. You remember what you have always known. You return to the Source of All, which is Love.

This is your work.

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Artist quote: Chris Chappell (Austin, TX)

“I’m trying to explore the part of my memory that holds images of insignificant things.”

A note from Chris Chappell on his painting style and why he sometimes paints portraits of commodes.

“To me, painting is sort of like journalism in a way, I just record what I see itself. It’s why I paint from life now, not literally sometimes, if I work from photos, but of actual things opposed to abstract or made up.

“A reason I paint toilets in the first place is that they often are symbols of something (in this case hatred); they are often something you see or use daily and take for granted. Also they’re weird in shape, interesting in form, and anyone is expert enough draw one from memory. You see them so much in life that you can actually recreate an image of one without looking at a reference. Go on, try. You may not be practiced at drawing, but you can figure out where everything goes. Or if you prefer try drawing a guitar without reference- I guess the point being that there is an actual image in one’s mind. I’m trying to explore the part of my memory that holds images of insignificant things.

“There are a million reasons. But ultimately, subject matter doesn’t matter. Whatever the subject of a really good painting gets left behind when you can sense the joy someone had simply moving paint around on a surface. At least to me.”

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Now available: A Place Of My Own merch!

http://www.zazzle.com/tim_birchard_a_place_of_my_own_t_shirt-235528401118220804

http://www.zazzle.com/tim_birchard_a_place_of_my_own_mug-168906389046109818

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Progress update: A Place Of My Own

Hey Friends,

Just a quick update to let you know that all mixdowns have been finished. Fundraising efforts through Kickstarter.com were wildly successful. Final mixes were delivered to Scooter’s Place for mastering last week. All album art files have been uploaded to Discmakers.com.

Once the songs are mastered, a physical disc (and backup) will get shipped to Discmakers, and the final order for duplication/packaging will be placed. Then, 5-7 days later, they should arrive on my doorstep. That’s when I’ll get to start mailing them out to the generous financial backers listed above!

Again, thanks to everyone involved in making this happen!

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A Place Of My Own — delivered to the studio for mastering!

Hey Friends,

Just a quick update to let you know that after some last-minute tweaking of one of the songs (“Away!”), I got in touch with my friends at Scooter’s Place and dropped off the audio files this morning.

My hero, Scott Smith, and his assistant, Lacey Black (who has her own record label, has multiple cd’s out and can’t be older than 25!!) are pretty booked for the next month, but they’re going to master a song at a time as they get the chance over the next 3-4 weeks.

Scott mastered “Songs for The Reverend” for me back in ’07, and he’s simply brilliant. So I have 110% faith in his abilities to hear what I’ve done and make the songs shine, sparkle, and rock even bigger than they already do.

We may be looking at mid-June before I have the final cd’s in hand and ready to ship out to you. In the meantime, please know how much I appreciate your support. You’re my heroes!

All the best, Tim

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A Place Of My Own: 112% Funded!

I’m humbled by everyone’s generosity, love, and support…

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A vinyl road to the past

I’m not going to lie. I love vinyl.

And not necessarily for the ‘cool’ value of excusing myself from some deep dinner discussion with friends to flip the LP.

Well, okay. Maybe a little bit.

But there’s something else at work here, too. At least two different things that I can tease apart. Or maybe three.

First… there’s history.

Today I picked up Queen’s “A Night At The Opera” and Miles Davis’ “Kind Of Blue” at Southwest Sounds on Main. (*They just expanded their vinyl section. I highly recommend you check it out. Everything from used Stones and Bowie to vintage Clash. I’m pretty psyched.)

Thing is, this Queen album takes me back. Back beyond my 30’s. Back beyond my 20’s. Beyond my awkward teen zit years. I’m talking all the way back to being 9 or 10 years old. My stepdad Wayne had this LP… and on Saturday mornings we’d build tents with the blankets and the couch and dining room chairs, and this album was in tight rotation with “News of the World” as the backdrop for those mornings. It was freezing cold outside on those miserably damp, icy, snow-covered, Rowley, Iowa mornings. I figured every other ten year-old kid was listening to the same stuff. That every other family stopped whatever they were doing for just a moment to choose the next LP to play. I figured every other kid with a pulse cared as much about music.

Second… there’s virtuosity.

The musicianship on both albums is incredible. Sometimes I witness excellent musicianship and I’m immediately inspired to play. (See the movie Rush: Beyond The Lighted Stage.) Other times, displays of incredible musicianship just make me shake my head and hang my guitar up for the evening. Both of these albums blow me away through the beauty of their simplicity AND complexity. Words are failing me. Best way to describe it is simply to go put one of these albums on. Sit quietly. Listen. Fasten your safety belt.

Third… there’s masterful assembly of the amazing parts into a complete album.

Dropping the needle on this 180-gram piece of wax transported me back through time. It also transported me into another world, changing the very environment / mood in my living room, in my mind, in my heart, with the sound scapes it painted in the air. It truly IS one of the perfect albums of all time. I truly don’t care if you agree, dear reader. It’s simply the Truth, with a capital “T”. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. I may be one of billions of anonymous voices in the night. But plenty of famous people agree. Just check out “The Making Of… A Night At The Opera” on Netflix. The lengths they went to in order to capture the perfect album… I bow in humility. On one knee.

The reason it feels like a knife cutting slowly into my heart and then ever-so-gently being twisted is not only because the album serves as a zoom lens into my own past.

In addition, the sheer beauty of the sounds that jump out of the speakers simply make my jaw drop.

As a recording musician, I know how many takes it can …. um… take… to get something ‘right’. I know how it feels to think, “this is as good as it gets” and then to push forward even farther. But how many takes did it take to get this album? (You can yell “Metallica’s black album” all day long… I know it took a year and a half, and I know it is another amazing album… but what kind of technology did Queen have to work with in ’75, compared to the early 90’s? There’s no comparison. Get out of my face. Besides, Ride The Lightning and Master of Puppets are the best two Metallica  albums anyway. But that’s a story for another blog entry.)

Miles Davis — Kind Of Blue.

Top-selling jazz album of All Freaking Time. Seriously. I don’t want to sound melodramatic. But as I sat on the couch this evening, sun streaming in the window, at the end of a pretty frantic week, listening to the last track on side two “Flamenco Sketches”… (not to be confused with the Miles Davis album entitled “Sketches Of Spain”, which I absolutely hate) tears rolled down my cheeks. There is no more perfect piece of music than that song. At the end of that album.

I’ve tried making mix cd’s and including just one or two songs from Kind Of Blue. Can’t be done. You either listen to the entire album all the way through, in order, or you get up and walk out the door, down the block, and disappear into the darkness and don’t come back until you’ve had a chance to sober up.

Okay. To be fair, I’m okay with listening to just one Side at a time. (Admittedly, I listened to Side Two this evening probably eleven times before interrupting.) But certainly, no less.

To be clear, I’m purchasing vinyl (new and used) to ENJOY. To Play. On my cheap-assed turntable. I am not buying vinyl to ‘collect’ it, in hopes of increasing value or returned investment or whatever. I plan to play the living daylights out of my records (just like my guitars!) until they can’t be played any more.

I’m only here for a moment. And there’s gorgeous music here in the world. On pretty black vinyl. (Sometimes it looks so delicious I just want to lick it.) It is GOING to get scratched. Coffee and wine WILL get spilled on the glorious gatefold cover of A Night At The Opera. (And we don’t even have kids.)

Just like I’m going to die.

It’s simply going to happen. So forget about keeping it in ‘mint’ (or ‘mint-minus’) condition. I don’t care about that. I care about being able to put the needle on it and having it go round and round and being able to turn up the volume and simply letting it wash over my heart and my soul. I care about cleaning my ears so I can hear every tiny nuance, including the scratchy clicks and pops of the vinyl medium.

I’m also not a walking compendium of musical factoids. I don’t know what Miles Davis ate for breakfast on the morning he headed into the studio to start recording Kind Of Blue. I don’t know if Freddie Mercury brushed his teeth before tracking “The Prophet’s Song” (though I’ll bet he did). Some people pride themselves on that kind of mastery over minutae. Cool. Go for it. That’s not me.

I care about living, breathing music. I want to write it. I want to record it. I want to bathe in it. If it’s living, it salivates, sweats, and pulsates. It emanates passion and vibrancy, just like those heroes who laid down those tracks in ’75. In ’59. Before I was even born.

I am not a white glove-wearing collector. I don’t care to own a $60,000 turntable. I don’t have an awesome record collection, nor do I strive to catalog my records alphabetically, chronologically, or autobiographically.

I’d rather drop the needle and wallow in the music than put down plastic protectors on the couch and carefully observe.

I’m going to die. But the music never will.

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