A Slip In Time

Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future. . .

Majestic Sunrise by Spreng Ben

I want to fly like an eagle to the sea. . .

Time Flies by Neal Fowler

Fly like an eagle let my spirit carry me. . .

Flying Milk by Chavil Brasil

I want to fly like an eagle til I’m free. . .

Nature At Its Will by Akshay Moon

Oh, Lord, through the revolution

Lightpainting by Armene

Feed the babies who don’t have enough to eat. . .

Til The End Of Time by Akshay Moon

Shoe the children with no shoes on their feet. . .

Reflections of Fitz Roy

House the people livin’ in the street

Past by Desdester

Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future

 

Credits (in order of appearance)–
“Majestic Sunrise” by Spreng Ben
“Time Flies” by Neal Fowler
“Flying Milk” by Chaval Brasil
“Nature At Its Will” by Akshay Moon
“Lightpainting” by Armene
“Til The End Of Time” by Akshay Moon
“I’ve Reached The End Of The World” by Trey Ratcliff
“Past” by Desdester

*Quotes from Fly Like An Eagle by Steve Miller

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A Transformation of Consciousness

Transformation of ConsciousnessHeal the world

& remember to hold on–

everybody hurts.

*Image credit: “Transformation of Consciousness” by Cornelia Kopp

EleMENTAL I: Shaman’s Song

What if everything you knew was a deception. . .Dream of the Shaman

. . . and the truth was closer than you think?

EleMENTAL I: Shaman’s Song

Shaman’s Song symbolizes the terrestrial element “Fire”, representing the fever of thought, creativity, imagination and consciousness.

EleMENTAL is a series of videos (in 4 parts) merging the theme of the elements (earth, air, fire and water) with the elements of consciousness.

FEEL THE ENERGY.

eleMENTAL II: Earth Consciousness OM

Credits–
Clips (all clips are HD and used with permission through CC license):
“Shaman” by Nahum Saldana M.
“Fiat Lux Hugo” by Verb Studios
“Ayahuasca Sagrada: Psyun vs. Ares” by Community Video
“Stepping Into The Fire” (trailer) by Robert Velez

Images/Artwork (used with permission through CC license):
“Trance (Shaman)” by Collin Key
“My Friend Ganesha” and “The Magician” by H. Kopp-Delaney
“Dream of the Shaman” by Cornelia Kopp

Music (used with permission through CC license):
“Tribal” by Alessandro Lambertini

Titles (used with permission through CC license):
“Stepping Into The Fire” (trailer) by Robert Velez

Other footage:
All campfire footage filmed by NIKOtheOrb

*Image credit (top of page): “Dream of the Shaman” by Cornelia Kopp

The Cost Of Living

The future is a dimension of possibilities–

Out Of Time The Realm Of MeditationI don’t think we think about cost anymore, which is ironic isn’t it? A socialized civilization that has as its sole means a standardized value measurement system (read: currency AKA money) regards any and everything through numerical denomination $1, $5, $10, $20, . . .  Dollars. Money. The green stuff. Money seems like a pantheon god at whose feet all gather for possession of the slightest farthing afforded them.

So cost. The price of goods and services, or as it also known human resources. Human resources. A system that creates the necessity of standing in line and occupying waiting rooms. Is this a waste of time only when the time could be spent spending it on some other civilized activity? Does our time cost? What costs time? Do we ever really stop to think about that question?

Often an idea, a concept, a prepackaged bit of data is surreptitiously installed into innocuous places. Benefits of the effort at being obvious. It goes unnoticed, like language. Any language. It doesn’t matter, data has no language built in, so it can be transacted into anyone. The process remains the same. A phrase like spending time. How do you spend your time? Don’t we also spend money? Is time expensive? Sometimes, we want to buy time. Can you use credit for that? Could you layaway time? What’s your monthly budget on time? It seems weird, doesn’t it, yet that is how we communicate.

So cost. When the sole exchange used for everyday transaction is used as a currency (think: flowing stream. Think: ocean current. Imagine an electrical circuit current), what is the cost of living? What is the cost of time? Should we measure cost in time rather than dollars? How much does time cost? And how much time does it cost? If we did measure cost in time, would we value time more? Would our whole system of values change? Would we spend less time doing things we hate for more time doing things we love?

Time keeps on slipping into the future. . .” ~Steve Miller, Fly Like An Eagle

Life is not measured in dollars it is measured by the consciousness, the mind, by nature. There is no price to pay with free living. It’s why I lived outside, why I slept on the ground in the woods beneath the starscape. To me, a conscious life is priceless. A consciousness needs it to exist healthy, to exist in union with the universe. From the quantum to the “edge” of the universe. I exist. I live consciously. I offer no excuse and ask for none.

How do you value you?

*Image credit: “Out of Time, The Realm of Meditation” by Cornelia Kopp

Sunday Afternoon Drive

Put a little love in your heart. . .

The Love Tree

Sunday Afternoon Drive: a new series.

This is episode one of a new series featuring video taken while on the road (style is documentary/music video kind of a feel).

Other music video here (Autumn Brewed, original song by Nancy Pontius).

Credits–
All footage filmed by NIKOtheOrb.
Music, “Departure” by Steve Ferguson (used with permission under CC license).
Image, “The Love Tree” produced by CosmikSquirelSTOCK.

HyperReality: The I In Me

“Why do my eyes hurt?”
“You’ve never used them before.”

The I In MeLest you question the possible existence of hyperreality, look then to the reappearance of Tupac Shakur.

Tupac Shakur the human being died in 1996; however, Tupac Shakur the Living Memory, the Rapper Simulacra appeared on stage April 16, 2012. . . as a hologram. The cut of his muscular body was evident in the hologram. More real than real itself. No one or thing need never die or disappear. The CGI and hyperreal Pixar animation so prevalent in films today, the seamlessness between actor and environment or actor and screen. In other words, an actor need not be physically present in his environment that can be inserted later with no visible lines. And an entire film (or video game to be even more precise) can be created without live actors, i.e. avatars, video games have already begun to employ this and getting more advanced and are advancing rapidly. With the progressive technology of resolution and frame rate (high definition and high speed filming), your household television, computer monitor, digital camera and video camera can deliver a picture more crisp than any digital photograph and possibly more than your own retinal signal processing, that is your sense of sight and its subsequent process in the brain for identification. Would you believe hyperreality over reality itself, as how could you really (that is sensationally) distinguish any difference between the virtual and the nonvirtual? You may even prefer hyperreality to reality as it is more improved now with more reality!

What of a generation raised on the Simulacra? Fed by inception and familiar with the supernatural as your current environment? Would such a child ever believe what its eyes saw? Suddenly, the dialogue in the Matrix uttered by a newly unplugged and awakened Neo has a whole new connotation. It seems the line between that reality and the literal reality is not far off.

Metaphorically speaking, we do not use our senses as they are becoming obsolete in the world of the hyped reality. What use is taste when flavor is synthesized and lab-created or added to an otherwise tasteless and bland chemical concoction? What use is hearing when surrounded by constant noise and frequent stimulation to the extent that the brain filters only that which is relevant and the rest to a comfortable static. So much so that this noise is preferred over a crushing, unstimulating silence. Or if brand jingles and ideological slogans are “heard” in the brain like a multimedia center? What use is touch/feel when feel and touch are blocked by screens and devices and personal space an engagement with gadgetry mostly? Or when feel has become synonymous as a concept with think, so that it is an intangible, not an action performed with the body. As unobtrusive as a physics abstraction. What good is smell when pheromones are lab-created and sprayed, rolled, or inked on? Cleanliness is meant to be after one bathes in a series of chemical containing unpronounceable ingredients. In effect, the sense is fooled; hyperreality creates these senses, creation ex nihilio. What use is sight when what is seen is only that which matches what one believes or has been told or when augmented reality streams through data directly to the brain? What does the machine look like now to you? Like a pod perhaps, as in Matrix? Or a 15 square foot space in the cubicle of the machine?

The machine has the face of Man.

 

*Image credit (all stock used with permission)–
“I, Internet” is a photomanipulation created by NIKOtheOrb using stock produced by:
Chris Moody, “Macro Iris”
Nick Fedele, “Alex’s Eye Macro”
Serial Killer Stock, “Circuit Board”

The Element of Surprise in Life

I saw then that my sense of me being me was exactly the same thing as my sensation of being one with the whole cosmos.

Fractal FlowerI did not need to have some sort of different, odd kind of experience to feel in total connection with everything.

fractal_stock_01302012_by_dsynegrafix-d4o3vjgOnce you get the clue you see that the sense of unity is inseparable from the sense of difference.

Fractal GapYou would not know yourself, or what you meant by self, unless at the same time you had the feeling of other. Now the secret is that ‘the other’ eventually turns out to be you.

FractalThe element of surprise in life is when suddenly you find the thing most alien turns out to be yourself.

fractal_stock_11912_2_by_dsynegrafix-d4mvlpfGo out at night and look at the stars and realize that they are millions and billions of miles away, vast conflagrations far out in space.

Fractal Stock 43You can lie back and look at that and say, ‘Well, surely I hardly matter.

Fractal DragonflyI am just a tiny little speck aboard this weird spotted bit of dust called earth, and all that was going on out there billions of years before I was born and will still be going on billions of years after I die.’

Fractal Valentine

Nothing seems stranger to you than that, or more different from you, yet there comes a point, if you watch long enough, when you will say, ‘Why that’s me!’ It is ‘the other’ that is the condition of your being yourself, as the back is the condition of being the front, and when you know that, you know you never die.

*Quotes by Alan Watts, Eastern Wisdom, Modern Life

Image credit (used with permission under CC license)–
“Fractal Flower” by Daniel Chapelle

“Fractal Stock 01302012” by DsyneGrafix

“Fractal Gap” by Barabeke

“Fractal” by Patrick Theiner

“Fractal Stock 11912-2” by DsyneGrafix

“Fractal Stock 43” by BFstock

“Fractal Dragonfly” by Christoph Zurbuchen

“Fractal Valentine” by Laura Harris

Thou Art God

Thou art God, and I am God and all that groks is God.” ~A Stranger In A Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein

Thou Art GodI was reading about chakras, and in doing so I come across the third eye crown chakra, which leads to the pineal gland which leads to melatonin . At melatonin, I find out that this is the chemical that regulates sleep patterns/cycles (circadian rhythms), which makes me wonder: What does that say about the waking state and the dream state? Give me your hand. Follow me, Alice, as we travel down the rabbit hole of a tangent….

We have wondered for millennia why do humans dream, yes? And we have wondered what is the dream state either in contrast to the waking state or in contrast to nothing. What is the dream state? And is that state when we are immersed in it, a reality? We, when we are asleep, seem to accept it as such (unless, of course, we are lucid dreaming, which is a whole other tangent, because we could say that the lucid state within the dream state is not unlike the waking state within reality, yes?). Melatonin also regulates the oscillations of the body, harmonizing with the surrounding environment so that the mind/brain can enter into the trance/dream state without any problems. How is this not unlike meditation, or even deep meditation?

Why do we still dream? Dreams as they are currently known could be residual memories, leftovers, remnants, perhaps fragments of a time when humans were fully consciousness. Downloading information from the cloud, or from the aether (in other words, whatever environment, your reality by which you are surrounded). It is effortless, I think, because the aether and you are one in the same. There is no boundary between the body and space. The skin is not a terminus…you know, at the end of my fingertip, I end. Boundaries are an illusion. I do not stop at my fingertip, I continue. My skin is not boundary betwixt I and space, skin is more like clothing. I am a protrusion into the third/fourth dimension, as such comprised of the fabric of the universe itself, same as the sun, the tree, a star, an insect, etc. Ultimately, there is no one I, nor is there a We, but only Is or This or That Which Can Be Called EveryOne. I don’t have a word in the language for this concept. That does not mean that there are no other Ones, I’m speaking merely for this universe, I have no certainty beyond that (or actually any at all, for that matter).

“Inside most people there’s a feeling of being separate — separated from everything. And they’re not. They’re part of absolutely everyone, and everything. [People have this] spot that [they] can’t see past…, the spot where they were taught they were disconnected from everything. [If they could they would see that they are connected] and how beautiful they really are. And that there’s no need to hide, or lie. And that it’s possible to talk to someone without any lies, with no sarcasms, no deceptions, no exaggerations or any of the things that people use to confuse the truth.” ~Powder

People are afraid to live in this way (reality as decoherent, as a quantum foam, or a non-solid state; reality can be as flexible as a dream) because they are afraid that they will shatter. These are all delusions, I think. There is no such thing as retribution; this is a human invented trait, not one of nature. There is no such thing as punishment; this is merely a legal term. People are afraid of condemnation or of excommunication. But humans do not have to live in this way, it is possible to be honest without worry of that.

It IS possible to live that way, but it can be scary on the way there. People are always looking for the jackboot and the oppression because in western society, that is the consequence. Human beings have forgotten how to treat one another as humans and most of all, they have forgotten that they ARE human beings, living organisms, who are children of the universe, and really have nothing to fear because death is not an afterlife or a hell/heaven, or an end, but another form of energy, just as life is a form of energy. We are not bound to life; therefore, we are not obligated in death. Immortality exists, just not in the way the movies describe.

 

*Image Credits (stock used with permission)–
“Thou Art God” (above image) is a photomanipulation created by NIKOtheOrb, using stock produced by:
EK Stock Photos, “Macro Eye I”
Luca Pedrotti, “Male Silhouette Pointing”
Funerium, “Cosmos8_0009”, distributed by Resurgere Stock
Inspired by a drawing on Reddit

The Other Side: Part Three

The Other SideHis mom had kissed him when he left. She hugged him and told him to follow the rules, and not to think about what he was in line for. She never had to think about it, never had to wait in line. She was sterile. Was sterilized after he was born sixteen years ago.

They changed the legal age from eighteen to sixteen this year, and so here he was: only sixteen and waiting; hoping like hell he will see his mother again.

He tried not to think about the inside of The Roulette, but his mind seemed trapped there. Will I make it? Will I make it?

His mom had cried when he left. He couldn’t remember what she was wearing this morning when he left. She made a big thing out of what he’d put on. The thin T-shirt, his favorite jeans with the gaping hole in the left knee, and sneakers. If he didn’t make it through, he at least wanted to be wearing something he liked.

She didn’t believe he’d make it. He could see it in her eyes. When he stepped off the porch and onto the road that led to the end of this line, she was already forgetting his face, his name, his voice. He didn’t think she meant to do it. It was just easier for her that way. He never really existed anyway. He was just a number in a long line. The taller boy thought he was going to cry. What did it matter? The tears. He would have to pass through those doors anyway, tears or not. He felt a sadness, one that could never really be lifted because nothing really existed, did it? There was only the waiting, and the scarcely seen other side. He didn’t cry. But he would have if he could.

“Hey, man.” The smaller boy tapped him on the elbow. “Hey, man. Snap out of it. We’re next.”

The taller boy looked up and saw the doors, only the doors. They had finally arrived at the beginning of the line. Or was it the end?

The smaller boy took a long drag off his cigarette, and then tamped it beneath his foot. He laid a thick, slightly trembling hand on the taller boy’s shoulder.

“Hey, man. This is it. I’m a free man. Good luck to you, man. Nice talkin’ to ya.”

“Yea.”

The smaller boy smiled a strange smile, then turned, and stepped into The Roulette’s jaws.

The taller boy waited, holding his breath. And he heard it. The shot sounded like the crack of a whip, swift and merciless. Then it was his turn. He stepped inside. He could smell the blood and decay of many dead and even stronger, the smell of gunpowder; sharp and potent like rotten apples decomposing in the late summer sun. They put the gun to his temple. It was so cold. Somewhere in the darkness a prayer was whispered, then a pause, the sniff of fear, his mom’s long black hair, his room, the first verse of his favorite song, and his father’s voice, so harsh like the sound of a . . . gun!

CLICK.

He was shoved out of the way to clear the path for the next in line. He emerged out the other side. It was only a blank field, as dead as the bodies fallen behind him. No people, no family, no party. Only a road that led back to an existence that didn’t really mean anything. He wanted to laugh and cry and scream at the gray building at his back. Instead he remembered because that was the only thing that could beat The Roulette. He remembered the smaller boy. He stroked the jacket he’d given to him when he was cold. His name had been Jason. He will remember, and next year he will tell his truth to someone in line, and call himself lucky.

End

Part One here and Part Two here.

More short stories here.

Image Credits (stock used with permission)–
“The Other Side” (image above) is a photomanipulation created by NIKOtheOrb, using stock produced by:
Julia Star, “Open Road
Nuno Artwork (silhouette figure from “Industrial Decay”)
Fairie GoodMother, “Statue of Liberty Park”
Funerium, “Cosmos7_0007”, distributed by Resurgere Stock