meaning

Making meaning.
Meaning into the meaningless.


I found some today.


I was talking to a friend of mine, about all this.
And all I did was come back to the same conclusion, again and again, that if I and we are VERY honest, none of this has any meaning.
Truly.
At all.


And this is fine, and I accept this.
This is not a matter of changing my mind about this - this is not what I'm after.
I see this as a fact and truth, and I am okay with this.

The challenge now becomes making meaning into the meaningless.

The point is, I accept that it does not have any true meaning, any wider purpose or whatever.
BUT.
The true meaning is doing what we enjoy.
And through this, as a result, exuding our love into the atmosphere.
That's it.
That's all.
The only meaning, in any of this, at all, ever, is just doing what makes our hearts happy.



And so I went to this concert tonight.
It was baroque.
And I felt a want, I felt that I wanted to sing, again, to get up and share and do.
And give.


So this was really something.
It was as if I found a piece of myself I had given away, or something that had got stuck somewhere, in the twigs and thorns, my hemline stuck on some roots, something pulling me back.
And it felt like I got it back.
Like a bit of me flew back into me.


FIND SOMETHING YOU LOVE.
FIND IT, FIGHT FOR IT.
AND DO IT.

It will be the thing that feeds you, and covers you, and protects you, and saves you from drowning.

Find it, look for it, love it.


So I count this as a good day.

Love, always.
Yours true-true-truly.
M.

“I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. If you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good, either. White hot and passionate is the only thing to be.”

—	Roald Dahl

birthday 1/2

I started this post exactly a year ago when we celebrated my 24th birthday.
And I promised then to upload some photos of the celebrations, which I never did.

And since it's now been a year I feel it is entirely fitting to complete this.


So.
Happy birthday, to me, for last year!

Question.
What was I celebrating?
What does anyone ever celebrate?

I think I was celebrating Home.
Coming home, having done it, having lifted some part of something.
Some ..inescapable situation, or feeling.
I was celebrating, a victory of somekind.
And it was really worth celebrating.

This idea of celebrations is heavily on my mind since I simply cannot understand why I'm so not there with this one this year.
It's bizarre.
I've always been a huge huge huge fan of birthdays.
And now all of a sudden.

But I think I just really do feel in the middle of some processes, and it would be silly to claim any victories.
I'll claim them next year - and Jesus, will I have victories then.

 (PS. I don't want this to sound critical, as if I need to cut myself some slack. I am fully aware I've come so far, and some of the things are amazing already. Just when you have the steam, don't stop to admire the view. Use the steam. Heaven knows we don't always have it.)

Love to all of you.
M.

flux

Everything is in flux.

I'm learning lyrics.
For tomorrow's concert.
And trying to visualise things I'd want.
To do.
Work things, and things.
What I would want.

It's so hard tuning out other voices.
Other people and what they do.
Just to focus on me and not copy anyone else, ever.

Surprisingly hard.

And here's this photo I found.
They never used it for this article we made, but it was up online anyway.
And it's SO LIKE ME.


So like me.

Tuning out.
I guess this is where meditation comes into play as well.
The art of tuning out.

The art of being You.
The art of being Me.
The art of being Ourselves, because we have no other options, to be honest.

The art of being Me.

Love to you all.
As always.
M.

I = my life

Let's cut to the chase.

We all consist of parts.

The entity, the individual, we are made up of ingredients.

I seem to frequently F*CKING forget mine.

And this makes me angry.

If you couldn't tell.

My task at hand is this.

Live the life I want.

Simple.

I'm tired of this mindless procrastinating only to find it makes things worse. Of course.

Why not just live the life I truly want.

The only difference between not doing and doing is,.. well....DOING.

That's all.

I'm tired of disliking my life.

I'm tired of disliking.

The inner the outer the flow and speed and action and reaction real and imaginary.

So this is me giving up and giving in, in a way.

Give up, already.

Stop fighting.

And all that then remains is the life I want.

So that I will feel fulfilled and proud and IN MOTION.

Stagnation is death to creativity and creativity is my core.

Do the math.

Books and air and motion and power and heart and passion and juices.

Give.

Up.

Imagine a life I want.

Someone said, "worrying is using your imagination to create things you don't want".

HOW correct is that.

Why ever imagine a future other than exactly the one you want.

Truth is.

I've never known how to do this.

Maybe I did at some point.

But I'm turning 25 in 2 weeks and this is getting ridiculous.

Pure and simple.

Make up my own reality.

Make up my own reality.

Feel like I want to feel.

For realz.

This force could be my greatest drive and engine.

If left undealt with, works like corrosive acid.

I'm free when I can run fast and run far.

Run fast.

And run far.

25.

This feels like a breaking or shifting point.

Finally.

Breaking open.

{I need to buy a kaleidoscope}

Fear is there for me to stare it in its FACE.

With love.

M.

time for business

So.

This is the scariest feeling I've ever felt in my life.
I think.

And I said once, I want a heart that never hardens.


So all we can do, is co-exist and co-inspire
And make sure we don't waste
Waste our time
Waste our talent
Waste our breath
Waste our sunrises and sunsets
And waste our joy
Because life is hard enough for us not to corrupt ourselves
So get on a swing
Laugh too loud
And delight in the ridiculous
Find someone to marvel with
Because everything is too serious anyway
Too serious and too sad
And too tragic
And too unfair and unjust
So keep hold of your own joy
Make sure you keep your shine
Be kind to yourself
And let others live through their own mistakes

And then.
Just like "something happens".
Something arrives.
Something arrives your way, something wondrous.
Something extraordinary is given to you.
It's like.
You are walking a road.
And when something happens - it kind of, disrupts your road.
It's like an earthquake.
But when "something arrives", it just.. arrives.
Slow and lovely and kind and WONDERFUL.
And natural.
That it just makes sense.
Like breathing.
And ... let's say you're breathing, yourself, for the first time in your life.
Just imagine, right?
That there's been these machines, for example.
Breathing, for you.
And then, all of a sudden, you breathe.

All by yourself.
You just breathe.
In, and out.
And it's fresh and divine and raw and Right, and it just makes sense.

But how do you trust your own lungs?
How do you get used to the idea, of your own breath, soft and secure?

I think Love is like that.
That you, just, you just .. it just is.
No effort. There is no effort.
Trust in your own heart beat.
Trust that you will keep standing up.
Trust your lungs, trust the air.
Trust life, and trust Love.

Trust Love.
Surrender to hope, and the faith, and the love.

And making love through seeing love, above and below.


Love is what we all are.

It's so natural.

We just need to tame a few steps back, mend our bones and take the jump.

We are Love.

And this is all I know right now.

Yours truly.

M.

first

First morning, and first evening.

Let this year unravel.

Exactly two months till I turn 25.

And I have every intention of taking this by the balls.

Let this year bring Light.

Imma sleep now, last night was madness, today was Joy and now I'm just calm.

Good night, darlings.

Yours truly.

01.01.2014

M.

end of the comfort zone

30.12.2013

Penultimate day of the year has just drawn to a close.

We were walking with the Spanish one earlier. We had finished eating some pasta with the pretty one, and I decided to get some nail polish base coat. And off we went.

And so we got to this crossing right in the centre of town, across the street from the main concert hall, Estonia.

Long story short, I nearly fainted I think, or had some form of heart failure moment, because our tour poster aka my face, was on the wall of the concert hall.

Here's a fact about my life.

I have dreamt of the day when I am up there for as long as I can remember. 

Honestly.

And I really think some base soul level something took place looking at it.

I thought I had some time till I got to that?

I don't know, it was just so out of the blue.

Some sort of homecoming, a completion again, to wrap up 2013.

Ridiculous joy, like unhingedly euphoric.

It was strange, to try and say the least.

So now I'm in the Spaniards bed, because this is not a night to sleep on my own.

I need security tonight and she is after all my soul-mum, or some sh*t like that.

What happens at the end of our comfort zone.

Something very peculiar.

Comfort, so called "comfort", becomes very very uncomfortable.

This crazy itch, to do something, the discontent with the Self.

Literally, ants in your pants, wanting "something".

Usually the remedy is to go out, get way too drunk for any human need and party h-a-r-d.

But it won't fix anything.

The only thing to fix any of this is Action.

The remedy is Doing.

Doing what is right for you, for your Soul-Self.

So take action.

And I need to take action.

The thing is.

Healing doesn't happen over night. 

It takes time, it's a decision you make every day.

A choice to let yourself be happy.

So choose right, choose kind, and choose honest.

As always, yours truly.

M.

power

Language is power, and language is sex and seduction.
It's sensual and mysterious, and crystal clear.
Language is intelligence, and keys to locked doors.
And language is the road, and the heritage and the trail back.

Language is age and era, language is decadence.
Language is full, it's dry, and true and false.
Language is rich and poor, it's blood, sweat and magic.

Master language and you'll master magic.

Yours truly.
M.


From a poem by Jeffrey McDaniel.

(un)important

I love this.

I think this is how I see love.

Appreciating the things, "the unimportant things you find important".
I love that.

Yours truly.
M.

le feu

Here's some fire.
For you.
For your Tuesday.

I mean, I think this is just delightfully fierce.

Le feu.

Yours truly.
M.

wolf

The wolf has truly become my animal.
And a symbol.

I'll write more about this soon.

i
am
wolf

Nordic Grey. 
M.

TRUE BLOOD

Pam

"Let's go to the ladies room and stare at ourselves in the mirror."

It's just the way she SPEAKS.

True Blood, M.