Ancestral Eyes

throughout the waxing and waning of the countless centuries over the last tens of thousands of years… the humans of prerecorded history have been crossing land bridges and even the expanse of the oceans themselves, taking with them only what was necessary for survival often times on one way trips to their deaths or to their dreams, encountering strange new lands and strange new people, at which point one of two things would occur… conflict or cooperation, are we fighting for what each other has or are we sharing, bartering, and growing? a necessary element on these high stakes adventures was the mighty and powerful and all too humble… flute. you could trade a song, or a technique, or a construction method, or even the very flute itself. just imagine flute makers of different worlds teaching each other and dreaming, flute players of different worlds teaching each other and dreaming, and the real magic steeped into the legends of the bewildered…

so, i was going to west with my pottery, down to the river to bring back water… and i heard… something…unknown… ethereal… so i took the deer trail through the bush silent as i could up to the boulder field at the foot of the canyon, and there i saw it… a cloaked figure holding a branch up to its face and making impossible sounds, i sat in a trance as an emotional soundscape formed… first all around me, then crept its way into my imagination traveling ever inward until it finally reached my heart, i don’t know how long i was there, held captive by these stories of the soul, i could not leave, to walk away from such magic would be like turning a back to a friend, i felt a connection, i felt at ease, totally relaxed, i didn’t realize it until later at the river, i just felt better, that strange encounter filled me with peace, healed me somehow, i just felt better, what strange medicine was that and how does it work? i wish you were there to experience it, with luck maybe we will hear it again one day echoing in the canyon, stopping us in our tracks, giving us time to wonder and feel, what a special gift that mysterious moment was.

from the craftsman who made the flute, for the musician who played the flute, so that people could feel the flute… they all shared in these magical moments our ancestors treasured, the torch bearers lighting the path of acoustic alchemy and elevating what the human experience was, while protecting and nurturing the expression of the heart on the sacred canvas of the atmosphere that we all share… whether we choose conflict or cooperation, only the useless physical product of the flute can be taken or stolen, but the heart that the flute exists to amplify can only be shared or given, the only real magical property of the flute is how it exposes to us to the magic in ourselves and each other… and yes… if you are reading this, it is in you too, an abundance of it, just waiting to be discovered and shared, it has always been there… silently waiting to be discovered.