Christopher Stewart's Blog (94)

the impulse that drives artistic expression is irrational, unconditioned, and impersonal. it is beyond the grasp of reason and its constructions, which allows it to make the being resonate at frequencies that reason is not able to reach, and thus initiate it into experiences that are beyond his comprehension.

Essentially written in one day in March 2013, « One Of A Kind » is an upbeat folk pop summer song about meeting someone who turns out to have special significance in one's life, and eventually becoming so close as to form a kind of unit with them.

Ultimately, it's also about how every encounter, whether apparently desirable or otherwise, actually contributes to one's growth and to finding one's place in the grand scheme of things.

Here are the lyrics…

tell me i did not dive in way too deep

and that i will find the relief i seek

when bells toll the time to jump off the peak

say that there will be faith to take the leap

although i've walked the path of oracles

and seen you've kept the oath you'd said you'd keep

when the fruits will be close enough to reap

will i really believe in miracles

did your plan really include that last turn

or did i miss a lesson on the road

will there some day…

« The allegory of the long spoons is a parable that shows the difference between heaven and hell by means of people forced to eat with long spoons. »

« In each location, the inhabitants are given access to food, but the utensils are too unwieldy to serve oneself with. In hell, the people cannot cooperate, and consequently starve. In heaven, the diners feed one another across the table and are sated. »

« Given the same level playing field one group of…

dare i declare that we'll always be one

that in your soul breathes an echo of mine

that our paths will fusion down the line

that this living bond cannot come undone

dare i reveal how we have been misled

by values that want us to be apart

told only a fool could follow their heart

by demons of greed, reason, and hatred

could you forgive me for being doubtful

of accepting the fate of a prophet

and having been of you so…

how many souls lay blinded by that creed

stuck on a rock that's lost in the vastness

fatherless child of mother randomness

the underlying view that fosters greed

satisfied by the laws of mechanics

kindergarten of logic and reason

unfit for the tests of intuition

barred from the master class in holistics

unprepared to see past material

as if fearing fatal delirium

through knowledge of concerns spiritual

yet truth is no stranger to…

i can recall the day when the world fell

and i could only watch in disbelief

as people blamed each other for their grief

before hiding back each inside their shell

from there we edged ever closer to hell

dying nature, fires, foul climes above

divided souls all longing for some love

while minds dreaded for them would toll the bell

and now a plague warns us with its dark chimes

to see we're tied, us threads of the same rope

against which…

as i sit on the floor and bow my head

i wonder why my path has led me here

for which purpose must i be rid of fear

that lies in store for me somewhere ahead

no way could i the turns have all foreseen

nor prayed for all of life's given blessings

for the angels would not reveal their wings

until after the time they could be seen

is it a door i hear, a voice, a pace

or only an echo, a whim, a wraith

a breeze, a thought, a threat without a…

now that the truth is out

and edges the windup

say did you really doubt

of where you would end up

just right there where you are

all alone in the night

feeling more fraud than star

and really not that bright

not completely grownup

more bewildered than fine

but still the wait is up

time to come forth and shine

seems you blew your thirties

in healing from your teens

in bending to worries

and in blaming your…

was it not all written

in the divine memoirs

on the nightly heaven

as a pattern of stars

that the worst could happen

at the perfect hour

to rescue the fallen

from haughtiness dour

so that they could in turn

save from the bonfire

their fellow men who burn

in confusion dire

was it not all written

well ahead of the time

in words aptly chosen

metered and set to rhyme

that there's no simple way

to…

(« God, suspended in the clouds, creates light. » by Thomas de Leu)

what was there left to do

standing at the summit

but to reach for the sky

up above infinite

what was there left to do

at the edge…

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The aim here was to come up with an inspiring and energetic song that…

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Basically, the…

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