SYNESTHETES

This Christmas I worked with Inez Van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin on the special text for their exclusive perfume gift. Inez and Vinoodh are two of the most prolific photographers working today, and a dynamic duo who also created a son together. I met them at their son’s birthday party last year, and boom – my being tall got them talking. You never know where life may take you. The fragrance was inspired by one of Inez and Vinoodh’s photographs – ‘Kirsten 1996′, which Ben Gorham of Byredo took as inspiration for the woody, oriental scent. The perfume came in a cedar box and a pink paper, inscribed with the professional musings of yours truly.

Synesthesia, from the ancient Greek σύν (syn), “together,” and αἴσθησις (aisthēsis), “sensation,” is a neurologically based condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.[1][2][3][4] People who report such experiences are known as synesthetes. (via Wikipedia)

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CULTIVATING GUIDANCE

“Remove the expression ‘have to’ from your vocabulary and your thinking, because it is going to release a lot of self-imposed pressure on you. You create tremendous pressure by saying” ‘I have to get up.’ ‘I have to do this.’ ‘I have to, I have to.’ Instead, begin by saying ‘I choose to…’ It puts a whole different perspective on your life. Everything you do is a choice. It may not seem so, but it is.” – Louise L. Hay from Heart Thoughts, via the ever awesome Mystic Mama blog. We are about to go into the Yosemite forest, picking up the vibrations and sending them back. Above is a picture of my amazing husband. Love from Napa, volcanic ash and vines

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RITES OF CROWNING

The caffeine from the drip coffee that my husband brought to me is coursing through the vessels of my brain as I sit here at a glass desk in San Francisco collecting my thoughts after breakfast by a sapphire pool. I have come through a membrane, through some veil of time and space, and I have entered a vast new chapter in my life. There is a crude bamboo xylophone on the table, a paper kimono in a case, and images of black and white rock stars enshrined between curtains on stages on walls. We are on the west coast, and I am newly married. I have been married! I married the wonderful Isaac Koren from Australia and this is my honeymoon. Write on your honeymoon, one might ask? Why does the bird fly south?

While Mr Koren packs our bags before our departure onwards to Big Sur, I feel a space in which to express some of what has recently happened to me. Nothing has changed, and yet everything feels differently. I am now two, as well as one. I was one – just one – with umbilical cords attached to all the other beings and friends and family members that I love. Now I am two, and I feel the shift in my energetic being: Isaac and I are spending almost three weeks together, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s incredible to find a companion such as this. But I will spare you any honeyed talk. I am free, I am wild, I have ascended a department in the department store. However, I am still (still! It takes as long as it takes..) decompressing and acclimatizing to what in the heavens just happened to me.

There I was, climbing my mountain, walking towards what I thought was some kind of spiritual entity like God, when divine intervention occurred and both the clock and compass in my hand melted instantly. After so many attempts at inviting me to his show at the Rockwood Music Hall in New York City, Isaac succeeded in corralling my attention towards a body of work he had been producing on the Music of the Spheres, or the Cosmology of Music. I was spellbound, obviously, by the word ‘Cosmology’ – knowing me at the time, this was an easy in. Soon enough, we had spent four hours in Housing Works bookstore sharing everything we knew and everything we didn’t know. Soon enough, I lay on the grass in the summertime and told him that I loved him.

Yes, it happened quickly, and I was with another man whom many of you know from my speakings of him. We had gone far enough down the road together, and over three years, that man and I had been attempting to evacuate the structure we had built, which seemed to be beginning to shrink upon us. I likened the ruins of our crumbling relationship to a body on view in a casket, and though it had passed, we were stubborning holding on to it, and thought that perhaps if we put some makeup on this area, it won’t look so decomposed? We pretended, and hid, and forced, and pushed towards various outcomes, while quietly and depressingly living separate lives. This was not true love, and although I loved him dearly, we were not compatible; we were trapped.

Plate XLIX: POMEGRANATE, Punica granatum

The greatest gift we gave to each other, then, was to listen to the winds and to let each other go. The man I had been with for so long had begun to speak ill of me and I of him, we were mean and callous and oftentimes didn’t understand what was happening. In time, now, I have understood that the universal forces of nature work in mysterious ways, and although my old lover didn’t want to say those cruel words to me, something was helping us rip ourselves away from each other. Wherever he is, I know that he is now on his path, for we were not made for each other. He has my blessings.

A massive storm passed through New York last year around early September, a hurricane that had the city up in arms about provisions and batteries and securing windows. Isaac and I had just met, and my heart had ballooned with affection and admiration. Isaac was an angel. He was the one, during my time away from my ex-partner, that I had called for, prayed for, asked for, in my envisioning mind. I had prayed for very specific qualities, and this young Australian man exhibited all of them and more. He anointed and protected me with sage smoke, he brought me to a Happiness Factory, and he fed me lamb and coffee. We danced, we walked the cooling streets of New York’s September, and we fell swiftly in love.

The weekend of the storm, I felt all those crumbling structures from the past brushed and blown away with the rapidly falling water that bucketed from the sky that sacred night. We have been inseparable ever since. Here I am, almost five months later, with two rings on my finger with it’s intravenous connection to the heart, on our honeymoon in the warmth of the west coast. Here I am, still me, yet surrounded by love and support and a sense of incalculably powerful manifestation skills. To meet someone as passionate as me, as interested as me, as en-theos/enthusiastic about life as me, is exhilarating.

The Pahlavi Crown: "There are 3,380 diamonds on the crown, with a total weight of 1,144 carats, the largest of which is the 60-carat yellow diamond."

I am now on the path, the higher path toward the true castle. I walked through the valley of the shadow of my dreams for a long moment – only a blip in time, in the greater scheme of things. I am now soaring, dancing, skipping through the stratosphere of my very existence in a way I didn’t realize was possible before I met Isaac. I am proof that life responds to your words, to your declarations, to your affirmations, and to your resistances and hatreds. I lived through a period of 20 weeks in which all of my wildest dreams came true. Time and space are completely malleable and elastic. Do not give up, and do not worry about faltering. I faltered for three years, wandering and wondering whether ‘this’ (this illusion of the here and now) was all that was available to me, whether it was all that I deserved. Only I knew what I deserved, and only I possessed the feet and the hands and the tenacity with which I could adhere my soul to that dream, to keep lighting the fuse at the base of the rocket of my beliefs. Sometimes the fuse was too wet, sometimes too dry, sometimes my dreams crashed and burned, sometimes I had to go and buy a whole new rocket. The entire time, I kept attempting different methods through which I might launch myself towards my bliss.

While Joseph Campbell suggested one “Follow your bliss,” I assert that one must strap your soul to whatever apparatus of launching you can find, and launch yourself towards that bliss. Go get it. In this brief bracket of time called your life, the rewards are worth the effort and your dreams are worth the risk of investing as much of your energy as you can manage. “The benefit of what you’re doing comes from that effort,” says my yoga teacher Bryan Kest – similarly, the universe knows when you’re working towards something and, from experience, I sense that the benefits we receive return through the channel created by the expenditure of your heart towards your goals. Keep tunneling through the granite, keep chipping away, even when your hands are bleeding and your knees are raw and you can’t really see what you’re doing. We are in a time of deep metaphysical creativity and positive manifestation. You will be aided, you will be guided, you will be safe in the crucible of your creating.

I’ve begun to write down the story of how Isaac and I possibly found each other, and how I transitioned from a heart space of night – cool, dark, full of treachery and suspicion – towards an arena of daytime – bright, warm, friendly and transparent. The rapidity with which my dreams raced into and through reality was utterly mind blowing, and yet I understand that when a star runs out of fuel, it implodes and becomes a black hole, towards which all matter races and transmutes. I experienced a very similar phenomenon following the passing of Heath Ledger, witnessing the way a massive star collapsed, causing a black hole towards which other surrounding stars were sucked towards, circling and circumambulating. Matter begins to clump together in this environment, and as such, my life shifted dramatically following the gravity of that natural disaster. I created Paper Castle Press at that time, I found love in many places, and I began multiple major projects, many of which have found fruition over time.

Arthur Hacker, 'The Temptation of Sir Percival' (1894)

Today, I reflect on the astronomical phenomenon of the binary star, and how Isaac and I were magnetized towards each other out of the complementary ends of black hole implosions. Both he and I had come through the vortices of black holes, and out the other side completely transmuted, cleansed, reprogrammed, clear and intentional. The binary stars of our universe are plentiful, apparently, and I realize now that my attraction towards other ‘binary stars’ or binary beings on this planet inferred the seeding of my future. Similarly, my harmless crush on Conan O’Brien all these years bore all the signs of a kind of interstellar Global Positioning System, or magnetic resonance. The fact that Isaac Koren is tall, lanky, red-headed and utterly endearing is not surprising to me. Follow the magnets that draw you on this planet and you will not fall far nor long.

John Lennon and Yoko, Baz Luhrmann and Catherine Martin, Michelle & Barack, Bono and Alison, Inez and Vinoodh, Chris Martin and Gwenyth Paltrow, Ahkenaten and Nefertiti, Antony and Cleopatra, Harry and Bess Houdini: multiple, multiple binary stars on this planet from before and beyond, from today onward. We have many rockets to begin collecting. But now, to Big Sur, the sea otters, and a visit to my old psychic friend and ancient mentor, Henry Miller. Follow us here for more of our love story. It is now ours to share. With love,

Signing off,

Mrs Sophie Claire Koren Ward

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A YEAR OF METAMORPHOSIS

Narnia Chronicles. Mr Tumnus. Mighty Ducks. Ice shoes. Frozen creeks. These are the few things on my mind as I lay in bed this Friday evening approaching 2012 with a diamond ring on my finger and many thoughts in my head. Winter is not the only subject filling my soul, as these last few weeks have rushed on with near bloating fullness. Late night shows I have loved, late night drives, late night brainstorms and late night longings. There have been sacred events in which the two families (of myself and my fiance) still new to each other, have come together with the chance to shine in equanimity. Christmas was one such event, full and full and full with the opening chasm of our continuing experience as one expanding family.

The expansion is incredibly exciting, and a phenomenal progression to witness. As Madeleine, Isaac’s mother, and I, remarked last night: “The joining of yourself and Isaac is wonderful. But with the coming together of our families, it is perfect.” I am so grateful for this massive blessing. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Our win is your win. Indeed, what more is there? My father and I walked the streets of New York this morning with my mother, fueled by good coffee, and found the presence of reality remarkable. What else is there? I feel it would be easy for me to think, great! Married. Let’s ‘settle down’ and get cosy. But no. I realized today during an ice-skating excursion with my family, the duration of which I was without a phone, due to having left it on the bed at home in the midst of morning-wedding-brain disorientation, that I do prefer being at work, on task, creating – than doing anything else. I am committed to creating my life as my work and my work as my play. I don’t see any point in segmenting life itself any further. There are no mutual exclusivities. Creation is the jewel of my existence. What do we dare dream of?

One curious reader sent a question a few months ago asking me what the point of my blog is. The point is to live a life of my own design, to share this life of my design with immediacy, and to demonstrate the possibilities pertaining to creating a life of one’s own design, with other human beings who might chance upon this humble work, leaving inspired and refreshed. Another reason for this Big Long Open Gash is to open the veins of my inspiration, with all their energy and misting spells, with all the emotion and human yearning, to show whomsoever is interested what it might feel like to be human, what it’s like to live over here, and to give others permission to do the same; that is, to share who they are with the world honestly, authentically, harmlessly, boldly.

What have I been doing all this time, between blog posts? During the last six weeks I have produced and organized my own wedding, the experience of which has been incredibly invigorating. I am thrilled that all I need do now is show up and enjoy the show. 2011 has been a powerfully transformative year. I’m not sure I recognize myself yet. My friend Stephen Blaise, Creative Director of FLY16x9.com, remembers a meeting we had earlier this year when I declared that 2011 would be the year of METAMORPHOSIS. Indeed it was. I am a butterfly and I was cocooned. I gorged myself on inspiration, and now I have flight to free myself with. Last week, I did my first nude photo shoot; another empowering experience for which I am so grateful. Life is so much a playground, and I’m still exploring what else I can do here. What else indeed? The imagination starts to liquefy.

Who knows what the future will bring. In many ways, I have a sense of it, but then again, it’s always more than I could imagine. Writing. Filming. Dreamweaving. And somewhere in there, our children. I’m interested in simplifying my life this New Year. I’m interested in focusing on fun, family, fervency and fortune. I am letting go of my human fears about ‘not being good enough’, about anything being ‘too hard’, about falling, and any fear about fear itself. What are you taking on and what are you letting go of? Leave it here on the walls of the Castle. (It will make great mortar!) The sun shone on New York today, and the snow hasn’t yet fallen on our cooling ground. Wherever you are, I sense there is such bounty for us during 2012. Let yourself be you. “Everyone else is taken,” said Oscar Wilde, for: 

“Your life is your life.
Don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
Be on the watch.
There are ways out.
There is a light somewhere.
It may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
Be on the watch.
The gods will offer you chances.
Know them.
Take them.
You can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
And the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
Your life is your life.
Know it while you have it.
You are marvelous
The gods wait to delight
in you.”

(‘The Laughing Heart’ by Charles Bukowski)

I’ll be on the West Coast for most of January, before heading back to New York and then to Australia during April. Follow me via Tumblr or Twitter to take the journey too. Also, if you’re in New York this Spring, check back in with Paper Castle Press to find out about a special salon series Isaac and I will be hosting, open to all, which will include poetry readings, book readings, songs and stories in cosy locations, replete with dinner and alcoholic accoutrements. The Paper Castle grows. Love, and a Happy New Year. 2012 is magic.

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LOVE STORY

Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married… This appeared in newspapers all over Australia. I thought I’d share it with you, in case you hadn’t heard the news. It’s extraordinarily exciting and I can’t quite process it all yet with words, so we’ll have to wait until the dust settles to read more from me regarding this rare revelation. Back to wedding planning!

Appearing in The Sunday Times, Australia

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BEAUTEOUS MAXIMUS

We’re exploring. We’re trying to find out as much as we can about the world.” Richard Feynman

I share this in memory of a joyfully curious man who accepted the Nobel Prize for Physics in 1965, despite being famously resistant to honours. I salute his spirit, and intend that through my own humble work I will continue to provide this sense of curiosity and joy which Richard Feynman so readily offered to his students, readers, audience, to Earth. I myself am caught with wonder about the floodgate of life on this planet, the prolificacy of conciousness which dwells here in all manner of shapes, forms, states, sizes, and otherwise. I myself have this ‘dis-ease’ of fascination. What is it that the Japanese woman on the train is listening to alone? What are each of those minds in a row pondering? How far we have come in our evolution already, that we have transportation, tools, technology, time and space, a quantum consciousness.

Thank you to all the scientists, poets, astrophysicists, shopkeepers, mothers, students, writers, thinkers, photo-imagists, curious children, pensive thieves and impassioned creators spurring us on to ever more advancement. I am gladly alive during this period of time. You might like to know that I am working on a new book on ‘the art of invocation.’ Stay tuned for insights into its development. You may be invoked. May we invoke each other. Can you believe I will be married in less than a month? I am so honoured to be entering this new year with such sanctity. What a ceremonial time. 2012, here we come.

Nature is there, and she’s going to come out the way she is.” Richard Feynman

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SAGE, GARTERS, YELLOW BELLIED LEAVES

View from my front door, by Stef Mitchell

How on earth am I supposed to sleep with Wedding Brain? Here I am in a white sheet apartment in the Bed Bath & Beyond corner of Chelsea, whilst Isaac flies midair towards Australia for a week. I haven’t written in a while because my brain has been clogged with white fluffy imagery of satin dresses and wedding talk: rings, celebrants, honeymoons, etcetera ad infinitum. It’s interestingly intense. I look at this paragraph and all I see is white tulle and lace.

So much excitement and preparation go into weddings. Where will I have my “hens night” and with whom? What will we do? I have to say I tend to baulk at the linguistics of wedding speak. Some of the vocabulary literally makes me eyelashes curl, and not in the good way: honeymoon, hens night, registry, bridal, and bridal shower are just a few of the bandied words which just don’t feel right on the brain. Then there’s the shoes. What shoes do I wear? All I know I want is a lace veil and motorcycle boots. Can an Angel please concoct the rest?

In the meantime, let’s get off the white walls of fire and go into the Art of Invocation. Tonight is a New Moon, and tonight we find a chasm of darkness in which the light of the moon shall fill. I’m dying to tell the story of how I met Isaac, how the Art of Invocation was employed. One starts to realize after testing the witching waters, and coming closer to this planet’s edge, that the phenomenon of materialization from the very fabric of ether, is either very spooky, or quantum mechanics in motion.

I believe in the latter, because after so many experiences in the domain of causality and creation, the initial sense of spookitude starts to depart. However, I’m excited to keep causing and creating: I do believe that the world is in good hands with mine; in fact, I have the confidence, given to me from so many years of trial and error, that I’m practiced enough to cause and create without harming others, as well as to create spheres of energy within which we might dance positively and encouragingly.

It’s been interesting watching my life shift. There are times when I walk through the door of my new home in the country, or come to the apartment where my beloved and I stay, strewn with the remnants of him, and find I need to take a moment within which to inhale the nowness, the reality, of it all. Just three months ago, “things” were very different. Just four months ago, I had no idea what was coming for me. When I have a moment to myself with no distractions and nothing to do, I sit on my porch or the dirty brick balcony in Chelsea and I breathe in the reality of my life. I am here. I have arrived. I am now truly living.

I’ve never before experienced partnership in this way. I’ve never before felt so connected, like I’ve found the twin to my soul. I could never quite grasp when others talked about that bond. I’ve never had my own porch, my own letter box, my own driveway, a cellar, an attic, a king size bed to fit all of my limbs. I am so grateful. In this way, Thanksgiving becomes, for me, a chance to find my regular state of mind completely immersed within the public morale of the status quo. I find I am so grateful so often, that every moment becomes a blessing. Thanksgiving amplifies that thankfulness vortex. And for that, I am thankful.

Sage, garters, yellow bellied leaves, Tantra, river, George Harrison, bees. We are all eating so much left over turkey right now. I yearn for simplicity with my love in the country – and yet I have such work to do. Poetry books. More on the art of invocation. Love stories. Series for children. Book readings. Set design. Production. Who knows what more? Did I mention a wedding in seven weeks? Dear moon, take us far. Dear new moon, find us ajar. I’m reading to be flooded with your gifts. As I purge, I ready myself to be filled again. Find me at the art store scribbling on all the canvases: I’m taking this dark light in.

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