Music is the Substance

with Ma. and Bofedal

Tuesdays at 6PM

Land sky mountain water stream field forest. Abandoning the linear, you get lost wandering a world of edges. A world of margins and peripheries, boundaries and borders, thresholds and liminalities. A string drones, tensed so tightly it can be only heard.

You are at a piercing precipice when the sound shows you to a bed of golden yarrow and lace baking in autumnal sun. I feel that the language I live in does not have a word for this becoming, that the people I live among do not have an inkling what it is.

You traverse the decrepit suspension bridge of downed tree limbs and their vines, the spindly sinews of crunchy brown fiber, rough and crackling, to where everything meets: a canopy, a prairie; a sun, a moon; a breeze, a shelter; a bird, a snake; a corn field, a forest; a grave, a garden.

Contact

solidarity with the dead, with the dying, and with the grieving survivors (and the June 10, 1993 DECLARATION OF WAR AGAINST EXPLOITERS OF LAKOTA SPIRITUALITY)

Music is the Substance

solidarity with the dead, with the dying, and with the grieving survivors (and the June 10, 1993 DECLARATION OF WAR AGAINST EXPLOITERS OF LAKOTA SPIRITUALITY)

00:00 / 01:00:01

seize the means of subsistence (where land is cheap and people can easily provide for themselves, capital cannot find a willing supply of wage-labor aka the wage is the patriarchy aka “if you ain’t coming for no chili, what you come for?”)

Music is the Substance

seize the means of subsistence (where land is cheap and people can easily provide for themselves, capital cannot find a willing supply of wage-labor aka the wage is the patriarchy aka "if you ain't coming for no chili, what you come for?")