. . . . . S A N C T U A R Y

Thursday December 2, 1999

again, a powerful zone of the chill type. many many thanks to karma and feather for bringing their little bit of tibet to the mix: the
space wrapped in prayer flags, lovely incense and ceder burning away, every sort of percussive and wind instrument from foreign lands and cultures (not to forget the plethora of tuned bowls) and feather's beautiful offering and prayer for a new millennium. also thanks to my new house mate peggy for early evening support and to conrad for the late night chores, making sure that the zone was still habitable in the am. also super big thanks to beverly who has helped out in so many ways in the last few zone's, the least of which picking me up and dropping me off at the airport at ungodly hours; this project would simply grind to a halt without her good will and energy.

a friend in germany wrote to me recently that sanctuary is also a place for ecstasy. this much is true, for sliding into karma's
multidimensional musical sonorities is the aural equivalent of sliding
into a warm bath. envelopment, solace, and serenity were the effects
of the night. also release, the type that comes from a deep sleep,
from a connection to the inner self in a profound way. after two hours
of sleep I was again running, again being that cog in the great machine of movie making, but somehow I was refreshed and filled with energy. the human condition has great capacity and resilience. it just takes a little bit of sanctuary to recharge for another battle.

so what is that exactly...well, like most things I'd say it's different
for everybody. either the serene airy spaces of a gothic cathedral, a
place traditionally affording protection from persecution, or perhaps
the throbbing electronica that we know so well (truly protection from
oppressive culture...) or even just a quiet place to close our eyes for
a brief moment (an airplane, a field, a bed...) these are all places
of safety, where we are able to let our guard down and are able to seek out the subtle and rich world inside of ourselves. the zone has always been that for me, for that sense of safety, of community, of home and ultimately because of that creative richness and juxtaposition that arises out of the concrete floor and wood ceiling every six weeks.

next time we will swing wildly from the rafters in an ecstatic
percussive space engineered by tim north and his hoverdrum. this is
not to be missed as it might be one of the last times this will be
preformed. ladies and gentleman, T is for Tumult.