Questions Answered Without Contact

    This is one of my concise long-range journals. They all tell my story, but ones like these span many years in the same number of pages that another journal devotes to three months. A blog differs from a bound set of pages in that a blog can presumably run forever. But blogs do end. They can end like a beloved TV series ends, after many seasons, because the drama has run its course. This blog will end, but not until its issues are resolved.

 

    The numbers show that more people are reading this, more in the last couple of years than all the previous combined. Some even got here out of a prior interest greater than stumbling upon. Back in 2008 - 21 entries ago - I wrote hoping that one particular person would find the piece, know who the questions were intended for, feel moved, and, while I knew this was improbable, respond. I still don't know when this marvelously liquid person first arrived at Extra Curricular Sav, only that when she did it was not by chance.

 

    Then, six months ago, a message came for me through a mutual friend, Libby.  I should remain patient and loving because the universe is perfect , everything is connected, and everything has a reason. The questions I posed to "a single individual" in 2008 were: "Does your clairvoyant see the same sky as my clairvoyant? Does your I Ching intertwine with or unravel into nonsense my I Ching?" And finally, was I "...a passing rube" through your star-studded movie? The answers are: Yes!, her clairvoyant sees the same sky and Yes!, your I Chings intertwine, but also Yes!, you are a rube, someone who has indeed invested in the unsophisticated rustic setting designed to protect and guarantee your outsider's status. There is no "what if ". They've already happened, so this question isn't quite allowable: Could "Cannot Command Your Heart", "Poverty Machine", "Systemic Insensitivity", "Get Over It", "Been Punished Enough", "April Fools", "Can I Tell You Later", "One Tear Drop", and my latest, "Failure of Nerve", been written without the tacitly encoded cosmic terms of my out and out withdrawal from any market place?

 

    Everything does have a reason - good reasons or bad. A perfect universe certainly levels the playing field, however it cannot excuse every level of personal responsibility. I wouldn't be blogging this today if writing didn't ground me and I didn't need a literary task to reflect reality back. I'm undoubtedly better equipped to do this than scour my soul for the reasons why I have feelings for one person that I don't have for any other. My faith in love is way deeper than that. I never did go back to that clairvoyant. Past lives are of little use to me, and as far as this one goes, clearly the message Libby brought home was that anything I might have done or said in the last 6 months is no more or less perfect than what I actually did. Which was to talk, listen, write, dance, sing, and stretch. The next 6 months too - to them my only responsibility is to, as my lawyer once advised, remain as perfect as I am.

  

   There are reasons why my discussions remain limited. Libby has volunteered enough; for now our confidences are on hold.  People who could corroborate any of the many promising things Libby has told me have not. Some of them may be reading this now. The status of this mid-August update in the Eternal Now may have changed by the time you read this. I said this was concise, and so to honor that and everyone who could corroborate, I have boiled down to a single reason why no one has: Because the most interesting, meaningful, and true aspect of this blog's drama really is just between me and this Single Individual. In the meantime, I've had time to look at the larger picture - at how a war-time economy was declared in America over ten years ago with no signs of stopping today, and how the insidious effects of that slip in overtly and subtly everywhere. The fact that I don't torture anyone for the information I need somehow turned up as a point of consideration in why people have not been more forthcoming.

 

    And the problem of being psychically sensitive has all the hallmarks of a minority movement: people are aware of it but don't want to talk about it, we are laughed at, misunderstood, or, on the other end of the discussion, taken for granted. Either way, evolutionary keys that advance the big picture are not being used.

    

Identity Celebration

 

Spring has come and gone; the SaveLove Music bouquet was large and colorful.

Some of them are day flowers. Others are turning out to be perennials. This Solstice offering to my public diary is a quick look at 3 new songs - and one old - 4 Savlove songs in which I describe myself as a healing ET sent here to enlighten the scene: "Superblue", "Anne I Am", "John, Not Joan", and "Blues for Jimi Hendrix".

"Anne I Am" is my favorite because it's short, awesome, repeats a monster riff over and over, holds long tones for the chorus, and announces itself without any of the frustration burdening "Superblue", "John, Not Joan" or a pack of others exploring the themes without actually naming myself.


I was a woman, a man, Indian and Jewish
Now I'm back again to see you all through this

I was Venusian, Atlantan, now the island of Manhattan
is pollution, your solution is to keep above the oceans

I am Anne

Anne I am

I'm hoping to get it to Anne Hathaway.

"John, Not Joan" was inspired by the sigh of a wise old bluesman constantly belittled:
"Please, please, please! I'm not Joan of Arc!"
Ever try to reason with children? It's not unlike trying to get sacred sexuality to rub off on adults.

Hendrix also suffered from extra-dimensional sweet-hearted blues. His message of love blasted through radio station EXP, a man emerging as if from the frequencies of a rainbow, who comes back "to find the stars misplaced and the smell of a world that has burned." My piece compares us to Oracles from Delphi listening in on "the sound of the first guilt pangs sang straight through to frustration on Wi-Fi."

And where does this leave Superblue, the UFO who "just touched down for a minute or two" back in 1989? Even then he kept "baling like the alien". His was "a superficial freedom when you're all running from the power that rolls you." He wasn't running. 25 years after encoding the rules for Tantric mastery in a rock 'n' roll song, the proof is in the pudding. While other men in their fifties are already showing signs of senility, Superblue still soars through the wind. For Superblue, cooking the liquids in the stars is no joke. It takes many incarnations to reach that place on earth where Chemistry meets Destiny.

From the mailbag, Minerva Cropoupopulis of Aganegg writes, "Where in the John Savlove catalogue do you use the word swoon?!"
The answer to that, Minerva, is in two songs from long ago, "Real Love" and "That's Why I Play".

More on those in a minute, but first, a word from our sponsors.












Baba George

 

 

 

George Harrison came to me in a dream a few minutes ago. It began with a bust of Heraclitus coming to life under the phrase "Character is Destiny". The columns supporting it grew longer and longer until there was no top in view.  Gabriele Caras and I led each other through the stone columns, sensing that there was a way out of the labyrinth. She looked at me with light blue eyes that arced upward in the center. "You are forgiven by the forces that matter the most."   "Well, whatever I did, I'm sure it wasn't that bad," I thought to myself, and suddenly George is with us in an English garden, quoting Baba Ji. "Isn't it a Pity" was playing in the clouds, so I thought (rather than said), "My signature means nothing if legal documents be handled by the lawyer who tells the best lies." George said, "Kindle the light of love within you, and then glow so that it is kindled in others, in all you meet."  Gabriele said, "The answer, my friend, is Cohen in the wind." I thought, "Yeah, I always used to be pointing out the flaws in the language of love 'til I started taking aim at the language of law!" George said, "Praise all women and men and gods. Those who you cannot praise, do not think of."

these Numbers both Excite and Numb me

2012 is through. In Savland, that means the end of a year I promised would be great and expansive for SaveLove Music. The evidence is in. And the numbers are extreme.

Over 550 titles in the collection, with at least one version of every song included on this one-stop tour of the stacks that unwinds over a set of over 100 60 or 90 minute tapes. Of course i ended up working right up until the last day of the year, unearthing the moments in my pop opera that awaited the final weeks. Others were intentionally held back (almost every song), and still another few dozen were thrown out altogether. Old poems set to music during the tour only count if I hold on to the chords as jotted. Emergency tunes are available to tap for when the world continues to indulge my hermetic mirroring through the winter. Poor, unfunny, violent world.

Plus the covers, improvs, intros and outros, odes, riddles, aphorisms, dubs, (swooshingstaticsound), world of format. This entry is a rehash of previous blogatives. Including the fact that there's plenty of running commentary on the profound paranormal experience, reality cassette-making as it's happening. That's - in a word -intense, and part of what pinned me to my apartment for this twenty-month marathon of musical activity. Everyone talks about our problems with the bureaucracy, the artistocracy, the plutocracy. I've got problems with the chakralacracy.

0 dollars were made. However, there are plenty of demos that can't be improved upon unless collaborated or put into the hands of another artist. They only need digitization, and some of them already have been clicked around the web. Figuring out which tunes would advance the front line is one of my tailor-made to Savstrange problems.

An expansive, triumphant, exhilarating year, then, that played with all the possibilities within its utopian boundaries. But it's over. Two brand new songs out of December: "New Music Came to Town" and "Been Punished Enough". I don't need to sing to keep this pop opera in motion, and for now I'm going to rest.