TRACKS

 

Blue Memories

 

In turquoise, aqua blue, I'm free -- swimming in a crystal sea.

It is a replenishment -- cold, refreshing, innocent.

Splashing in a sparkling pool, the stinging of my eyes is cruel

Yet underwater I can see long past my eternity.

 

I closed my eyes to a blood red light.

I lay in sand and dreamt of night,

the summer sun, the cocoa scent

and the waters' refreshment.

Splashing in the mist-filled skies,

the stinging of my salt-filled eyes;

my days of youth on Miami Beach

are too far away to reach.

 

But when I breathe the cobalt skies, when I gaze in sapphire eyes

and the jade aquamarine turns to royal or blue-green.

Cerulean waters, phthalo deep are the memories I keep.

Hidden in the midnight blues are the secret underlying clues.

 

I love blue -- I miss the Austin rain

I love blue -- and the sweet champagne

I love blue -- and a cigarette

I love blue -- in the fresh ocean air

 

And now I have released the pain -- bleating in the pouring rain.

The doors' flung open to a dazzling light; the shock erupted from inside.

Splashing in a sparkling pool, the stinging of my eyes is cruel

Yet underwater I can see long past my eternity.

 

I love blue -- Oh--for the jade of life's lies

I love blue -- Oh--for the summer skies

I love blue -- Oh--for the dark abyss

I love blue -- Oh--for the magical first kiss

I love blue-- memories.

 

 

The Blue Butterfly

[for Henri Matisse]

 

She heard an echo. She understood in her soul

and from all the lives she'd lived before...

Intuition must be trusted. Blind faith cannot tell

when the mysteries are found at the bottom of the well.

 

Risks and faith in the smouldering fires

and the burning of his deep desires.

The Genie of the lamp's

full of demons and the dance.

Singing Harmony in Red.

His passionate view of joy they said

crossed the Green Line, o wild fauve;

paint the red room and orange grove.

 

The blue of that butterfly and Cezanne

made you more of a spiritual man.

 

Blue as a sulphur flame filled with Mediterranean light.

Such a blue, it pierced his heart.

He knew he had to buy that cherished butterfly.

 

The painting spoke in its own clear voice.

She knew right then that she had no choice

(but to) breathe in the harmony.

She made the greatest sacrifice

to decide and not think twice.

Cross the blue line, o wild beast,

break the mold and paint a feast.

 

 

Deeper and Darker

 

I stand before my canvas, the colours sing to me.

I await the wild attack, when I can set them free.

I prayed the joy of life would see its way to me.

 

Deeper and darker I paint the scene

till the light no longer shines through me.

I don't like it when my heaviness gets the best of me.

Will I rise above the negativity?

 

I fought with desperation, breaking up the planes

setting fire to my weaknesses; let the wild beast take the reigns.

I prayed the joy of life would see its way to free me.

 

My heart never makes a smart move

never feels the fright

till it's too late in the night

and the urges hurt so bad.

Till I'd fallen deeper than I ever had.

 

[Spoken/sung:]

Moving slowly along in the mute agony of despair

deep in the midnight hues

with the deepest of the midnight blues

I'd fallen, couldn't find the door

but now I'm ready, can't wait anymore. I can't wait. Can't wait anymore.

 

I love colour like a lover, an incandescent jewel

I am dazzled by the light it makes, reflecting in the pool.

I prayed the joy of life would see its way to free me.

 

I hover at the edge, values filling me.

Soaring in my art, to paint more freely.

I prayed for the courage to risk it all.

 

 

Forever Now

 

Freedom-- Freedom-- Freedom--

 

Freedom is my longing; released from the prison of my mind.

It taught me a new way of seeing - like no mere coincidence;

and my cloudy fears are just intrusions....

 

I'm just a motherless child - a painter of song

but don't hold me captive - don't do me wrong.

You'll never paralyze me.

I'm not bound by the present - I'll never mourn (the past).

Heaven's where future's borne (forever now---).

 

I'd taken for granted the rising sun

and that the next day will surely come,

expected, relied on the day to begin...

but never stood back to take it all in.

 

Where does it come from - this wild, burning clarity?

Lost on horizons, the end is too far to see...

and the world sparkles; and worlds in a window

open on a new day; and the hazy air sings

from somewhere in time; I can hear Vincent say,

"The best way to know God is to love many things."  [repeat]

 

The mysteries of the palette entice me;

and there's always something new to set free.

I hear the music of a distant key

and sing what I'm told that is destined to be.

 

 

Wind in the Trees

 

All my life, been tossed like a leaf - a tree bent down from the force of the wind--- hmmm---

Yet I forced my way through battering waves - running through a terrible maze,

climbing high on hands and knees - in a setting of many-colored trees.

And through the trees forced a wind...  and on that wind, the voices sang

like the passionate strokes of a painting

came a whispered story of my gifts  - of my mission, my purpose

...and all the words I would ever speak, and all the music I would ever write.

 

Listen for that sense of wind filtering through the trees.

On that wave of wind are all the answers.

You'll connect with nature's rhythm, purifying in the breeze

and learn to draw on sympathetic sojourners on the silver, tree-lined highway

on the silver, tree-lined highway.

 

Wind in the Trees is like a spirit and the essence of God speaks to me.

I must listen.

And sometimes the Master of my higher self allows me to stumble and fall

and closes my ears, filtering pain and seals my eyes to the terrible strain... sparing but a hint of light.

And we move on our journey to the end.

 

Visionary dreams speak through mystic imagery

like rows of shadowy trees, in black and white,

on a gray and rainy night, cloudy and pale like a magical dream -- like a watercolour dream---

And we all know the secret, secretly - and when the truth is unveiled,

all the war will vanish from the earth...

and we'll stand tall like the trees.

 

 

My Guardian Saint

 

It's looking stormy outside now.

I'm caught between a dream and reality.

Once my calling helped me cope

and then its distance took away, took away my hope.

 

But like the genie from the lamp,

I know that once I did believe

a guardian angel watches me.

I doubt but still I am naive.

 

The genie's gone and guards no more.

The saints have fought my inner war.

and the spirits may not win

but can't prevail if I give in.

 

It's getting harder to believe.

I'm caught between my dreams and practicality.

Once I had such nerves of steel,

always able to express how I feel.

 

I might never unify all the sides of who I am.

I might never find my way through the roads of yesterday.

There are sign posts, (clues) on the way

if I stay on the path and seldom stray.

But my intuition's failed me.

My perception's like a cloudy haze.

Imagination's run astray.

Will I make it through these days?

 

With the grace of God, my guardian saint

is borne in me time and time and time and time again.

And these angels come to me - perfect, what I seek to be,

so I can know in this life creative possibility.

They won't let me compromise; there's so much to realize.

Got no bargain to resist, and no chains upon my wrists.

 

It's looking cloudy outside now.

I'm caught between two worlds and I can't go home.

There's no reason to look back in time.

I've come a long way and what's mine is mine.

 

 

My Infant Joy, My Infant Sin

 

I have died a hundred deaths in you.

I've lived five deaths, ten times two.

I've left a trail of paint and pain.

Still I find I must remain.

 

and I tremble...to explode

and I tremble...to explode

 

You have tied my hands behind my back.

The sinners trick me and attack.

For the joy of life can't seize me

and the devils tease me.

 

But then...

I cannot only see myself

but I can now glimpse beyond

a hint of greatness flowering

far past the glowing wand.

It hits me all at once - to know.

I see the universe (in me) - and grow.

 

I wake up the next morning

and everything seems forgotten.

The scene is so breathtaking,

I want to grasp the burdened air.

But the perilous path was pre-planned.

It's not a path of ease -

toiling through the wind and sand.

It's got me crawling on my knees.

 

A fire against a pale blue sky,

I want peace, but you deny me.

You deny that I am free

and my infant joy deceives me.

 

 

She's in a Trance

 

To come...

 

 

To Come

 

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To Come

 

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To Come

 

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To Come

 

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All music/lyrics written by Sandra Frazier  send e-mail to: sandy@mystic-art.com

 

All Rights Reserved. Please e-mail for permission to use any of the art, music or writing at this site.
© Sandy Frazier, Mystic-Art Media, SandraFrazier.com

 

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