<style>@import "http://www.stanleysy.com/da/css/bt.css"; /*null:null*/ /* */</style>

As soon comes fall!!

thank you for all your prayers and support. We've found Kaia! It's still a long road before we've reached the end. We ask for your continued prayer and support in this sensitive family matter, and that everybody involved will keep Kaia first and foremost in their decisions.

As we've seen, prayers can be answered

Do you guys blog on here??
Here goes

p.s.: some inSANEEEEE pictures coming soon
singing for 75,000 people >



There it is again, it knows no quiet in my presence.
Singing softly...sweetly, with that same golden stillness I have know since my first moments in a body.
A quiet ephemeral voice that evaporates like dew at first light and whispered musings in the wind; Like shadow people that dance off into darkness when lights enters the darkness, or any other number of things that pull some heisenberg  type shit during direct observation.

The presence of nothing. The possibility of all things.

What a road.

I am looking right now at the chard remains of a hill, a park that knows thousands of my footprints and the sound of my breath at dusk. All that remains is white ash, a sprinkling of trees that through luck, fate or perseverance, dot the burnt horizon.

Thankfully this is natures way it to propagate the soil rich with nitrogen, so when life returns, it is greener and more resplendent than ever. From the end, the beginning, from the beginning the end.

I have not written for months. Any-thing. Not a note, not a poem, not a stroke of a painting. The longest period of abstinence in this artist’s life. Silence (well there anyway).

This christmas, I began to regroup. I looked deeply into the cracks, the fabric, the materials and convictions that held the walls of my life in place. In some ways, the way tales of the psychedelic and/or transpersonal experience is often relayed. The subdivision of subdivisions and thoughtful questioning of why. Why each branch, each word, each hand, each thought, each molecule stood where it stood.

Some of you who have heard me speak have hear me say this.
There are quite simply 2 ways of being. In art, in life, in spirit, in presence.

Your either telling the truth
or your lying.

There is also in this what I will call the 80% law in effect at all times.. There is no 80 percent truthful, that would be called lying.

This echoes the sentiments of many traditions : from the duality of being and non-being,the presence of darkness and light, right down to the subatomic realm where existence and nonexistence and the rate at which they occur determine the building blocks of material reality.

Rhythm, frequency, periods and cycles, biorhythms, the Schumann resonance, string theory, wave propagation, constructive and destructive interference....all things undulate, swirl and swim everywhere and through everything, living and non-living. The quantum soup that is material reality stirs, and we, our loved ones and pop-tarts stir from the silence for an instant before returning to the everything.

We are almost nothing, yet in the small little something we are, is everything.

All there is to do here on this ball of dirt I am convinced is love.
Love your mom, your partner, your children, the trees, the sunsets, passerby's.
Just make more love.

Love as a way of being, not an act, action,or belief system.
Let me clarify. You can act loving, you can believe in love, create loving words or gestures.
These are good, just, powerful things. They certainly calibrate above integrity. New thought (not a but) BEING love is not an act, belief or idea,
It is just that, a way of BEING.

Beingness creates a charge that draws in like ways of being.

In the chaos that was Christmas / the sameness of my little neck of the known universe, all the unseen began to crawl into the visible. The mesh, the intent, the frame; silent functions of my little culdisac, took on brilliant glowing embers of enunciation I had yet to see.....or wished not too in most cases.

What we see and what we do not see is often a byproduct of a myriad of things : our social conditioning, our belief system, how we were raised, our conditioning etc. All these small rivers run into the ocean of our perception, and to each and every one of us, this finite capacity to interpret the great resounding song of the universe that dances around us is like an flat worm trying to explain a multi-dimensional object like an apple to...well, himself !!! (much less his friends)

Our experience is so powerfully subjective, and intimately intertwined with the interpreter. Not to mention...every though, belief and action becomes manifest in each of our small spheres. Wether conscious or unconscious.

Our small seeds become divine manifest.
Our perception is also both sides of the looking glass, both creator and creation.
One can only exist in the others presence as they are only exist in symbiosis.

It’s a hundred o’clock ion Wednesday, on a plane over the ice caps....and Kaia and I just watched Happy Feet. Some where in some corner of Europe we set up shop for a month, and have the amazing joy of just singing for a month.

What do you tell a three year old that looks you dead in the eyes and says......”Dad, Anakin was good, and then he became Darth Vader, why did he turn to the dark side of the force” (this question is not paraphrased for dramaticism)

That was a two hour talk, on a small patch of grass in griffith park.....a patch that is probably no longer there.
Makes you want to know when your moments are happening.

What a moment to moment blessing beingness is. Parenting is my greatest joy. Who would have known, such beauty and joy can come from simple watchfulness, attentiveness and love without condition. Before I became a father.....well I don’t even know, I feel like there never was that moment. My life is in devotion to raising a smart, ass kicking princess warrior. Thank you God for the opportunity..

All efforts of late have been on dismantling the hideous and egregious system and machine I have unwillfully built over the last period of what feels like a thousand years. I thought the people around me, treated their work with the same integrity that I treat mine. Remember I live in a world divided into a samples (int the literal not the vernacular). A new friend of mine that is an amazing animator said to me he experiences life 24 frames at a time. God did I understand that! I experience it in clicks of on and off the thickness of a hair on your arm. My work and my perception is molecular. It is with great intent I have created phrases such as “Nano-correcting”. I live at the smallest level of sound, and even more importantly, in-fact most importantly in the intention and spaces between it.

So for for my myopic sins I have paid dearly. I looked around and suddenly my life was ripe with rotten fruit. Counselors, employees, “friends”, confidants all sat at the table to drink my wine, eat the food I had spent years just tilling the soil to plant. And every single one of them, invited in with a smile and a waft of my own hand.

I look at someone like Britney Spears with such deep compassion. Although it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen her, I intimately understand the feeling of looking in every corner of your life and realizing that it’s all polluted. The managers, lawyers, the business...egregious, lecherous organisms that cannot survive without a host.

The man who used to manage me said confidentially to a friend of mine “I wish I had 10 clones of BT, I’d work them until they dropped and then replace them with his clone.....they only last seven years anyway, and then they end up addicts or dead”.

Not something you really think is underneath the furniture when your busy creating techniques and technologies and trying to nudge the human narrative to the plus side a little.

What do you even say to that?

At any rate, the ebb and flow beneath all of my life and work has been rife with shady, lascivious entities that feel entitled to be apart of what I have spent my life creating......and creating with integrity.

Christmas, the ax fell. I fired 11 people and de (or more appropriately re) formed the terrain and fabric of my life. They fell like flies from a carcass. Even better, they were happy to go, because they all thought I was quitting. Little did every single one know, there was only one way to conjure their true face...tell them, show them, it was over.

Show me their faces they did. Every single one of them. I pounded the Earth ferociously and all matter went flying. The shit, the dirt, the excrement....waste flew miles into the atmosphere.....and now all that remains are the few 20+ year trees that are my friends, my tribe, my work, my daughter.


Anything without roots has been unveiled and extricated.

All I can see for miles around me, is fertile, nubile, tilled soil. What beauty lies ahead. What devotional music to write, art to create, techniques, and words, and strokes, notes to organize.

What beauty.

Do you ever think about organization in this way? Everything already exists. You could say the potential for everything already exists, but I think even stronger language than that is necessary here.

This laptop I am writing on began 2 ways. First there was an idea, a infitestimal fluctuation in the collective that graced an individual here among us with an spark...in-fact, this laptop is the byproduct of many many small downloads of information from the collective consciousness that created the frame work from with which to make a plan. That is part 1. Part 2 is, it already existed.

How?

(an aside note, in all things, ask WHY not HOW, in this case we will deal with the how, but if you listen to a piece of music and find yourself asking how?.....for the most part run to something that makes every cell in your being resonate with why. In the how is the show, in the why is the humanity.)

Always.

So here we ask how did it already exist. Every material, every atom, every bit of metal and plastic and silicone were assembled, organized from quanta that is in the here. Imagine all the other devices, and acts that are around us! Next time you look at the dirt or a cactus, think about that. All these beautiful and even hideous things, all here for organization and reappropriation. All things already exist, we just have to organize them.

Now I fly to be with a friend, to sing in-front of many.....and to dig in me and try to spread some light into the world.
I am deeply grateful for the opportunity.

Last week, the sample lawsuit ended, and it was ruled in our favor, and I am forever grateful to my attorneys Julie, David, Anthony, Lauren, Jennifer, Eric, Shireen and Lawrence Lessig for his guidance and fight for fairness in copyright law. Glasses up to Kirkland and Ellis and The Creative Commons. I will never be able to fully express my gratitude. This group of incredible people have freed me to return to my art.
Wining is nothing.

Fighting for the truth and winning is everything.
With deep respect

B

things change, birth, grow, spawn, coagulate, form, crystalize...
its hard already, but here's thankfulness for the 07'

respect >

B