Anna Shelley

Venus

I went out just as Venus set
To see what I could see.
Dark and shrouded in mystery,
I met my family.

“Come home,” she said, “Come home.
You are always welcome home.”

I felt her calling all night long
I even heard her in my dream.
I wrestled with mind and soul all night
Nothing felt like it should seem.

“Come home,” she said, “Come home.
You really really want to come home.”

So I spread my arms, I leant right over
The wind rushed right through my hair
It was cold, it was wild,
She held me like a child.
I never want to go back there.

So I left my home to go to my real home.
I really really want to stay home.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒

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In the stillness…

In the stillness, I step outside.

I listen to the crickets singing throughout the streets.

The silhouette of an owl lands on the roof.

I could hear the day’s rain seeping into the Earth.

Limbs outstretched, Orion hugs the Earth, protecting us.

“‘Til next time,” he says as he sets.

The centre of the milky way rises higher. Soon she is above me, humming away at a frequency that only the subconscious understands.

I could stay out all night, and watch her pass over. I want to see it all.

“‘Til next time,” she says, “I am always here.”

As above, so below.

Something M

This piece of music has many firsts for me, but I’ll tell you the story of it first…

You know, at first glance, most people think my music is beautiful in the sense that it is light, perhaps glorious, and even blissful. There’s definitely an energy of working with the “light” if you know what I mean.

But most people don’t realise that I cover the full spectrum of our emotions, the full spectrum of humanity, and the full spectrum of what it is to be real. That is – there’s a lot of “dark” in there too.

There’s a lot of bleakness, of feeling alone, of not belonging, of not being of this world, of wandering around on this Earth like an imposter.

And through all that – there’s a sense of permission that it’s actually OK to feel like this. And that it can even be beautiful. Like when we listen to sad songs and they make us cry because they are so sad, but they are so beautiful at the same time. Like when we listen to an opera about someone who’s just killed themselves and they sing and it is the most exquisite thing we’ve ever heard. Just as there’s a beauty in watching roses gradually die and dry in a vase, there’s a beauty in the rich tapestry of life that weaves in the full emotions of humanity and Mother Earth, and there’s a beauty in feeling it all.

I feel this on a depth of so many layers, it is almost impossible to tell them apart, but man is it beautiful. Something even… magical.

And then… Something M was born.

Something M from ASPECTS

Something M has many firsts for me:

Layering piano sounds – I’m not a pianist – this is challenging for me!
No acoustic instruments – This is all done on a synthesiser. Yes I played the notes, but yes I also acknowledged my piano skills were shite AF and I needed an easier keyboard to work with that I could then force to be in time (oh the mess that was happening when I was trying and failing with the piano!)
Introducing other orchestral sounds – Again on the synth I was able to do this, and I love the effect! I feel cinematic AF.
Allowing myself to show the darker side of life – Can you hear any Game of Thrones / Westworld influences in there?
Rhythm and melody – Working with the synth allowed me to express so many rhythmic layers that I usually hear in my head, but am unable to do on the acoustic piano due to my rubbish playing (and let’s not forget the weird buzzing on some of the piano notes which means I need to play quietly on these notes, which knocks out my rhythm due to the delay in sound, and sometimes no sound, that comes out when very quiet). While working with these multi layers of rhythms, I was also able to add the slower melody over the top, which is also what I hear in my head when I play – all the rhythms and melodies and songs of the godzzz 🙂

Enjoy 🙂

The Rewrite

“I saw the town clock ticking again,” she said, walking towards me.

My heart felt hollow.

“What do you think it’ll be next?”

“It’s been a while,” I said, “Anything goes.”

We’d been living in peace for quite some time now. Everyone got along well, and a real community had formed. I had genuinely been feeling happy. I thought we had been forgotten about, but now I saw I had simply become complacent. Only the strong survived this place. And those that survived were granted eternal life.

Standing still, I scanned the street we were on. The shops were still there. Our apartment was still standing down the road.

Every time the clock moved, something changed. Sometimes it would be something as simple as a plane flying overhead and a new guy parachuting in. Sometimes buildings would be detonated. Sometimes even the unthinkable would happen.

Heads down, we walked to the end of the road and into our building. The doorman wasn’t there, but that wasn’t unusual. His job was to help people in the building, but he was always wandering off for a coffee or to go fishing.

I pressed the up button for the elevator. Nothing. I’d only ever seen it work for the doorman. We looked at each other and shrugged.

We glanced outside to check for any new developments. No change. Yet. We raced up four flights of stairs to our floor and straight into our apartment.

Looking down from the window, we could see a few people standing around talking to each other. Some were looking around. The doorman was running along the street and back into our building.

We jolted back as a crack of thunder shook the walls. The sky went from a pure azure to the darkest of dark greys. We continued to look out the window, searching for more clues.

I took a sharp breath in as the cafe over the road crumbled to the ground. A new building materialised in its dust. It looked like a bookshop with a small cafe inside. Not a huge change. My breaths were shallow, and I clenched my fists to try to stop my hands shaking.

As the dust settled, the door of the bookshop opened, and out stepped a portly man with a beard and a top hat. There were a few others still on the street who watched in silence with wide eyes.

The man walked with purpose down the street, past the butcher, past the grocer, past the florist, and past the town hall with its looming clock tower.

“Should we follow him?” she asked.

“It’s been so long since anything changed, this could be big. We might be safer here,” I said.

“Nowhere is safe.”

I nodded, and finally took the full breath that my lungs were craving. “Let’s go.”

We raced down the stairs to the ground floor and saw the doorman peering outside from his post.

“Do you know what’s going on?” I asked.

“No, but I just came from the hills. They turned into desert dunes, so I dropped my fishing gear and ran straight back to see what was happening on the street.” he said, his eyes unblinking.

“We’re following that man, want to come?”

He shook his head. His breathing was fast.

“We’ll let you know when we know what’s going on,” I said I opened the door.

We turned left and ran down the street. The bookshop man was nearing the very end of the road where the castle sat. We caught up to him just as he was raising his hand to knock on the door.

“Oh, hello,” he said cheerfully. Perhaps he did not know what the deal was here.

“Hi,” I paused. “Do you know what you are doing here? What your roll is?”

“Yes, of course! I am here to see the Queen of the City.”

I grimaced. The last few times that the clock started ticking again, someone new would see the Queen. Everyone who had seen the Queen had been eliminated so far.

“It’s not what you think,” he said. “I am a messenger.”

So he had a different purpose to the others.

“What is your message?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s for the Queen of the City. Go away now, before you are eliminated.”

My jaw dropped. He was right. If I poked my nose in too much – if I strayed away from my purpose – the clock would tick and my time would be up.

“Come on,” I said to my lady.

We hurried back down the street, past the ticking clock in the clock tower, past the shops, and into our building.

The doorman was not at his post anymore. I hoped he was OK, but I knew what was happening. This had happened before.

“This feels like a complete rewrite,” she said.

I nodded.

From our apartment we looked down over the street. A few moments later we saw the messenger walk back down the street towards the new bookshop. He opened the door, and paused. He looked up at us and waved.

We looked at each other with a sharp breath in, and ran back down stairs and outside to see the messenger.

“What happened?” I called as we ran across the road to him.

“The Queen has been eliminated.”

I felt every muscle in my body stiffen. She had played a major role in the city.

“Why?”

“I brought news from the Queen of the Desert. If the Queen of the City surrendered, it would be a peaceful takeover.”

I didn’t even know there was a Queen of the Desert.

“The immediate surrender indicated she was of weak character, so she had to be eliminated.”

“Are there any more eliminations?” I asked.

“Yes. This is a rewrite,” he smiled, before turning on his heel, stepping into the bookshop, and closing the door.

I looked into her eyes and held her hand.

She faded, before crumbling into dust. I looked at my empty hand. I never even knew her name.

Dust off the deception

There is no guarantee in life. Even death is not guaranteed. Highly likely. Probable. Not guaranteed.

So what if we just bask in the freedom of no guarantees?

What if we had no food? We’d grow our fucking own.

What if we were homeless? We’d live off the land.

What if we all lived in a Tank Girl / Mad Max type of world? But darling, we already do.

We have simply been overcome and overrun, overruled and overwhelmed, by invisible rules and expectations, invisible societies and invisible governments. It’s all a farce. It’s all an illusion. And like the fools we are, we bought into the lie of categorising ourselves into neat little boxes, and we played the game until it played us.

We world as we know it isn’t crumbling. It’s the figment of our imagination that has crashed.

Get up, dust off the deception, and live.

Beyond who you think you are and thought you were…

You are more than just your body. You are more than just the blood that runs through your veins. You are more than just the thoughts that cloud your brain. You are more than just your shell of existence that goes about its day meandering here and there and aimlessly strolls through the desert of life.

Beyond this shell, beyond your complex mind, beyond who you think you are and thought you were, you are the magik of the stars that sparkle in the night sky.

You are the magik of the stars that fly through the night, the planets that vibrate in harmony with one another, the deep dark emptiness of space that permeates your mind and clears the heart.

You are fire. You are earth. You are space. You are water. Imagine the alchemic creation waiting for you when you combine your elements.

The ripples of the universe are waiting for you to make waves.

This is all good and everything, but what, practically speaking, does this mean? And what, practically speaking, should we do?

It means that nothing really matters, as everything is insignificant, and that everything matters, as we are all connected by the fabrics of the universe that ebb and flow with the cycles of our lives.

Stay grounded.

Be who you are and live like you mean it.