## Ancestral Waves Music is a wave that passes through us. We resonate with the frequencies and the echoes live inside us. What does a tuning fork dream of? Waves on the beach—Cold water, eek! A sinusoidal waterline of contrast. In the dark, can you tell where they come from? Maybe. Do they roll in from behind? Sweep from the side? Meet you head on? Are they cold? Exciting? Startling? Or are they warm and inviting. Are they absorbing? The ocean is broad in a way that with your eyes closed, you don't know where it will take you. Up or down? Headed home? Or out to sea? Long waves are mysterious. You can sometimes read the ripples, touch the wind. Slower yet, can you feel the tide? Significant. Eyes closed you can't see the moon. Every wave comes, every wave goes. But music holds meaning in space and time. Goethe says that music is liquid architecture, and that architecture is frozen music. Therefore, life is an exotic state. Unfolding and polyrhythmic, near the triple point. The phantom phase of matter. Heat ripples from an unknown fracture; symmetry-broken, scale-free. Unmeasurable motive force; an agency that imparts motion. Seeping out of fractal cracks in salt and rock. Mixing memories, swirling, twirling. Imaged in time by voices rising from the deep, their vital transformations and dances of Maya. Like birds of fire creation can't be counted; it's Mahavishnu's orchestra. There are no walls, only waves. Feel them?