Music’s Place In My Soul

Listening to Rufus Du Sol, reminded how much I enjoy electronic music and one of my regrets: when I had the chance to study music formally, I opted not to. Insecurities spoke too loudly, drowning out passion. I loved studying music theory, exploring the way audio elevations interact with each other. Memories of improvisation workshops, and the compliments I received for my commitment to rhythm.

Now, though, my poetry echos my musical tastes. Symmetry, rich harmonies, layers, textures, all blending into something far greater than the sum of the parts.

The difference between music and poetry: in poetry words flow in single streams. Together, yet alone; they can’t interact. Several words flowing together at the same time create a pile of textual vomit. Music allows multiple people singing multiple lines simultaneously with their interaction making them greater. Much the way different colors blend into new colors, different feelings, telling a story with each dab.

I often play with the idea of restarting this path. Of exploring all that can be done with today’s computers, today’s sampling gear, today’s synthesizers. I could create words, sung, standing upon each other, blurring, blending into something greater, into something beyond whatever could be imagined. Words building upon words, interweaving with tones, textures and rhythms, pushing through feelings, ideas, the power of souls intermixing and exploding with something more powerful than any human element could be, do, express on it’s own.

With all this, when I was younger I listened to music deeply, richly. I listened to the chords, the words, exploring what the composer communicates with that interplay. Did the pleasant, kind words take on irony with the minor or diminished chord interwoven? Words stacked with changing chords, showing tension, motion, landing on a major chord, resolution, release.

Then there’s the blending of older music, ancient music, such as Enigma, taking ancient chant, interweaving new tones and auditory textures, creating something linking the ancient with the rising sun, with a newness of being, something that both exists from antiquity and yet is brand new.

Lesson: passions drive live, make it beautiful. Explore them fully, deeply, richly. Humanity needs no more bitter business people, soul’s stripped of joy. No, we need more passion, joy, aliveness.

Bring that into being, my friends.

Here is the song by Rufus Del Sol that got me going. Enjoy!

Memories of my Grandfather

Riding the ferry

From shore to shore for hours

Talking to strangers


I’ve been thinking a lot of my grandfather lately. He spent years driving trucks throughout the region. His gift for connecting with people his deep. He had friends all over Edmonds. I emulate him… in my own way.

The train’s horn carries

The train’s horn carries

Upon the suburban calm

Miles from the shore

I often hear the train’s whistle miles away from the Edmonds shore. A few miles, up the hill, from Puget Sound. It actually delights me. Well, at times the intense quiet unnerves me. At my core, I’m an urbanite.