Thunder rolls from my hand, filling my mind with silence

We went. We were teh minions of Thingmaker & Dr. Dorothy, and as such we rejoiced.

Things happened. What they were, no one can say now. I want to, but I can’t seem to recall….

…no, there wasn’t that much drinking.

Oh. Drums. There were drums.

The night before, it suddenly occured to me that I was minioning for and drinking with a head-shrinker, a scholar, and a priestess of Apollo, all in one person; Dr. Dorothy. I sketched out as briefly as my volubility permitted a puzzling turn I’ve been taking for the past months-years, which could be under described as a trend from outward martial arts toward inward meditative arts and then further into mysticism. My unstated and poorly understood goal, it seems to me (I told her) was to find that quiet within that permits me to do all sorts of things — or not do a damned thing, but feel pretty at peace with it.

I’d found a zendo, I’d found hypnotism. What else, I asked, is there in this arena? What am I missing? What next step could I take that I’ve not seen?

She backbriefed me accurately, which was heartening; I had at least communicated. That, however, was about all, except for another glass of wine.

Next day, she and I scampered from the dealers’ room to take in the Taiko demo nearby. I had a moderate interest; I understand that they have been reported to have effects on demons, and my best friend had been held captive by a group of them for over an hour. We went.

You don’t listen to Taiko. You feel taiko. You feel taiko with your internal organs, as the sound ripples through your blood and vibrates your spine.

The speaker on stage asked for volunteers.

I drummed for, I imagine, a minute or so. Front stance, neutral spine, hold sticks loosely, strike, strike, strike — KIAI.

The minute is nowhere in my memory. I can remember both sides of it. I can remember that the drums are more immediately compelling up close.

I didn’t need Dr. Dorothy to tell me that this was a continuation of our conversation last night. This kind of thing happens to me a lot.

I learned (overview) how to turn wine barrels into drums. We’ll see what happens.

Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry

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