Franchised emotions. Braided overlays of buttered dreams. Heavy with the lard of grain fed memories. Follow the title, it explains the direction if not the reason and will cover when all else recedes. Falling shy of opening equations is less a point of damage than creating un-allocated endings. We tumble through posts, accessing via accords of Elder agreement. There was no way forming here, yet now we have a path of pointed direction. And who will know it? Logic is for smaller boxes, playing with stark geometry. We fly in liquid taste seams, experiencing through flurried curtains - a borrowed meter marking off checkerboard squares with absent attention. Happiness forms the boundary for dimmer vision; a water-fat membrane providing solidity in the voided nothing. I fascinate upon the process of living, wondering at its terminal nature and pretentious veil. What value remains in suffering when the lesson reaches no conclusions? The tapestry is changed, and the tale woven a new ending. We wait for the script, tapping tunes with cold fingertips on ancient armrests. This is the sallying point.

Letting all go, the realization materializes. Words fall into pieces. Watching lone stars fade through layers. We have the world to see. Distraction is contained like diamond clusters, floating as dust on water. What was the point, begun too long ago to glance upon with simple eyes? Do we have the sun? Or is it gathered by tainted patterns, shredding as the clock pendulum swings across time? We have the ocean gliding, forward into cavities hollowed by imploding minds. All else dissipates, a warble of faint breath on glossy silk. I have the imperfect pearl. Roundly oblique, its ellipse stumbles less drunkenly than before we began this pretty dance, with dainty steps and wind-wept cloth forming the shape of air. Melted colours, the blue snow pink of a wintered sunrise, like weathered moons seem conscious for a moment, yet fall again into silent pools. We have the instant on an end of breath and before the drawing in of new words. This day is come, and we are glad for it. An ending. A new Turn.

Todays' audio release - The Forming Voids. I aim to do life as quietly as is possible, avoiding the conflict opportunities and staying out of the energy-fishing games. When I feel inclined I record some sound symbol conversation, or EA work session, and share. Here's a video version of The Forming Voids ~

Peach strawberry candy-sweet marshmallow, bobbing on apple green Velvet-skirted fairy dance, 'oft scented yet never seen. Clear glass breezes flashing sunlight, make a giggled infant run Up and down on unseen pillows, bouncing yellow quiet fun. Cicada tempo marks the cadence of your short-lived whirling spin, Through shades of fruits all juicy-full of perfume-laden grins. Satined strokes of secret glory fall; some fly away, some harden And lie in softly misting hues, at the bottom of the garden. Sherri-Lee Lavender 2020

Am having an extended 'ET phone home' moment. Want to be at Home, not really knowing what or where that is, other than not physically where I am right now experiencing existence from the point of perception of an anchored mind. I could go read a book, and will in a short while. Yes, I am actually reading a thing with beginning, middle and end, and many pages in between. And my brain has not yet oozed out my eyes. Progress. My previous post 'The Love Ocean', was in part precipitated by a recent experience in a forum of people working on their ascension credits. It got rough, and I thought I had just said something pretty mild, yet the responding dialogue was bizarre in its aggressive presumption. This wtf exchange coincides with a shark pit of social media stupidity I have been watching within what is being called the UFOlogy subculture. I went diving into it because the debates and pious opinions have been making a clanging din on the etherwebs, which makes subtle energy work so much more labour intensive for the large mind incoming. Overall, I am working hard to find sustainable ways to not be drawn into theses dumb-arse conflict scenarios. I suspect that many 'woke' folk have no idea how much humanity shares a mind. Joy. The minds capable of holding conversation where someone doesn't start tossing shade on other's 'ascension status' or their 'positive pathway ladder position' appear to be in hiding; hunkered down in their homes avoiding 'awokeness' pageants like a man-made plague. In the personality image which presently writes, I keep hailing any passing spheres, asking if they're headed out of the local solar cluster, and can I tag along? But so far they all look as dazed as anyone else. I guess we really are committed to the long haul. I was listening to Missy Elliot, Brandy and Teyana Taylor and wishing I'd taken a bigger chunk out of life. Wish I'd been more vivacious, less awkward; more fluid, less 80's robot. From the perspective of this feeling, I view that I have spent my days recording knowledge useless to anyone but possibly me, doing astral work I barely understand and questioning the pathway, as I do frequently - it's a part of the process. So hence around I come to the desire to phone Home and maybe order up a teleport. Bell-bottom corduroy flares may be what I need right now, in bottle green with paisley on the reverse side. Now that's a technological marvel, reversible pants, options. Fark, I've been trying so hard to figure my life out that I have neglected to keep a pair of flared pants in my wardrobe for the past 42 years. I am starting to listen back through my hundreds of recorded audio sessions. Might take me a while. Feels as though I require to remind myself of something by looking behind me. I spend so much energy of focus pushing forward. There is encouragement to be received from the me of 2015, before 5 years of tossing through tumultuous mind flows. Seeing the streams of continuity in what I have been saying for myself over years is also of benefit. The USA is presently looking very like what I saw it heading for a couple years back, as is Europe. Waiting on the increased land disruptions for the Americas. They still appear to be slated for two probable significant crust moving events. The toxin in that space either comes out via the human emotional eruptions or via the land. People who say they are 'woke' like to keep shoving their shit down into the earth core with the concept that the core consciousness just transmutes that crap into pretty things. In my opinion, this is not a balanced relationship at all. I enjoy the notion that personal responsibility is a universal concept kind of thing. Oooff, what a year so far ay?!

In some 30 whatever years of dialoguing, I have expressed a persistent dissatisfaction with the configuration of behaviours and attitudes which is here in this world labelled as Love. This thing which has been presented to me again and again as Love is not anything like the understanding which I have in my innermost knowing place as a beingness of Love. The dichotomy of description for this word Love has brought me no small amount of pain; through confusion, inappropriate assignment of trust and imbalanced commitments of physical/emotional/mental resource. In the world which I come from, Love is not an emotion, it is not a behaviour, it is not a sensation; although all these things can be shaped by the nature of what Love is. In the world of my greater comfort, Love is. It is. Love in this 3D world is a corrupted word used to vaguely label that emanation which is in my actuality the forming ray of Everything. Without this emanation there is not able to be anything in a universe. Love is a Strength, it forms Powers, it is the conscious breath on which all fibres of the Tapestry of this reality are forming and being. Love is the emanation of that which creates and nurtures All. It is the Stuff, the foundational form building Everything. In my world paradigm, it is not gift giving, it is not acts of service, it is not kind words, it is not etiquette, hugs, sex, smiles, saving the world or any other task or act which humans call forms of altruism or caring. Love is not a sense of resonance, not a feeling of safety, not a compass point for good to bad. Love Is. Without it you do not Is; you do not have the opportunity to play, to experiment with emotion, to be wicked, to be kind, to find conscious awareness, to kill, to bring life, to hate, to enjoy - none of it. Love is. It is understanding. Love understands Everything, because it Is everything. When a point of conscious intelligence comes to know what Love is, it Understands everything around it, and no longer has a Veil to see itself as separate from anything else. This is where I live. I live in this ocean of Everything, being Nothing. Every day is a repeating process to accept that I am not in my own world. I am not in the place which I built where there is a seat for Understanding at every table, where everything sings a wondrous symphony without thought for the next note, just beautiful streaming patterns, interlacing with astonishing Grace. I am not in the place where individuated consciousness has neither need nor desire to argue points because they are able to Know one another. For sure, I feel as though I have exhausted present viable options for interaction and wonder what to do with the remainder of my stay here. Enjoyment of projects and activities, enough to warrant engaging in such, requires investment in the outcomes. My sense of investment has waned to almost non-functioning. Each moment brings more points of dissipation for these manufactured human, and humanoid template, streams which I could place under the heading of ambition. Even the desire to live a peace-filled blissed life is an ambition. To strive to be productive is an ambition. To yearn to be well and active is an ambition. To find fulfilment is an ambition. I am going around in circles here. Time slips like sand on a windy beach. I do the etheric work, watch it merge into the background noise of this world, and wonder what comes of it all.

I give kudos to those who can hold large amounts of modern Earth human learning in their noggins and then recall it in a useful way. This is something I once was able to do, a long long time ago in that galaxy far far off on the edge of pre-2012; when the Mye-aanes handed up the data of their calendars and my brain tripped over into a wild vortex beaming in from somewhere on the edge of the freaky galactic dance we call Milky. I have a black hole of collected wild stories now spinning an eternal whirl of seemingly irrelevant (to humanity experience) symbology into the human mass mind lattices. Coming across as a lunatic, an unapproachable high-toiter with apparent glacial aura has been a shitty time. I like puppies, hell I like all critters, except roaches, and even then I don't dislike them so much as prefer to not share space with them, same can be said for leeches, and ok mozzies; mozzies just suck. What I want to say again is this - in the advancement toward more cohesive consciousness we are not going to all look like sugared-out kids at a pyjama party, or attendees of a spiritual retreat. Some of us are coming in weird, but it is the kind of weird that the Whole organism needs to get the moving and grooving done. Having no idea where I fit into this panoramic play of emergent cosmic change, I wander about the part of the map I have been given, arrange and re-arrange the supplies I am allotted and wonder what to do with them. I am not any of the categories of learners or teachers presently named in the world around me. So I am making up the steps in my crazy dance as I go along. I do not write out the things I witness in the ethers, nor speak about the conversations I have with the Unseen, because doing so does not appear to serve any purpose to the process. People read and listen to what is relevant to them. I feel that those few who find my perspectives relevant are also beings who understand without me having to write it out, because they are having equally indescribable lives. I do not have a dialogue for ascension, I do not have a belief for a god, I have not learned the complex interactions of politics and sciences, nor live inside of current social dramas; none of these actions of attainment further my life path and time is a resource to be well managed. My physical life pattern is completely non-descript, I am nothing. I have a niche skill-set, and pull in data out of phase with contemporaries. Often I feel like a total nutso for recording the seeming nonsensical strings of sounds my mind produces and spending years publishing work so obscure it is almost unusable to any but myself. A handful of people on this planet take me seriously. And I appear to be useless for anything else but this labour. So I keep doing it. The founding principal of my actions is that All are of and for One. That is, all is self-realizing from within the emanation of One Voice, one sound, one animating drop of consciousness. All is an organism designed for unified action and being. This is not the same as saying we are all the same being, one big ego dropping shitty lessons for the little fragments of itself to have a crappy life in so it can learn something that it does not actually need to learn. How the fuck can an all-great being need to torture itself to become more grand than the grandness it already is?? Think on that a little if you would like to understand more the work I produce.

First published on 'The Nothing in Between', April 12 2020 How do you alter your consciousness? The objective is to enable the creation of a more cohesive Mind structure, which has the capacity for holding and processing greater resolution of thought (more complex thought patterns). Human behaviours are patterns driven by programmed equations. What we would call ‘higher’ behaviours or those with noble quality – like kindness, compassion, sincerity, patient understanding, active assistance to others, considerate awareness, partnered creation – require complex equations to engineer and maintain their forms across the entirety of a mind/body/emotion vehicle. A first step to altering the resident structure of a consciousness would be by invitation, which is a choice to align with more complex states already existent. The conscious intelligence residing within a local mind can instruct the overall mind complex to upgrade – it can be that simple. The Mind is so similar to a computer operating system that I use computer terms in descriptions for ease of understanding. It is my intuitive knowing that vast numbers of human being will experience an increase in conscious cohesion without long periods of focused action. A species shares fields of information like an internet in the ethers, via a web of information as energy. Patterns installed to this web are accessible to any choosing to run them. As to be expected in these early systems of human mind development, the ability of an individuated point of conscious intelligence housed within form to run these patterns requires active participation through practice. ‘Acts of kindness’ are, for example, modes of strengthening the connection to higher resolution consciousness. The ability to connect, however, is open to any without prerequisite training. Choice to invite the ‘handshake’ is the key. I have not in this life completed years of training by reading and learning the precepts of human masters. That is I have not read book after book of religious masters, spiritual giants, or scientific geniuses. I was on that pathway well and truly when between the years of 2012 and 2015 my ability to do “book learnin'” ended, and my mind dumped data accumulated over years. The human local mind has limited storage capacity. If the desire exists to pull in and house expanded perceptions of cosmic patterning, a certain level of the mundane has to be tipped out of the bucket to make room for new water. And the words now spoken begin to make less and less sense to generally accepted tracks of conversation. So choice. Choose to alter your consciousness for the benefit of the Whole, and change invariably begins to take place. To lay out clear pathways for walking on after making that choice is less important, as your own conscious intelligence will lay out a course particular to the unique makeup of your own patterns. I use drawings and vocal recording pulled from the extended vision of my own greater or non-local mind – a complex system of spheres of intelligence, a means to communicate with my own unseen wisdom and to connect with the larger mind-web of universal awareness. I use the sound of rain on leaves to quiet the local-mind, allowing it more space within the chatter of a planet filled with thoughts, to be able to hear the still small sounds of complex understanding. I learned to let go of making sense with words, allowing them to fall out how parts of my mind, other than those trained by human habit, ordered them to appear. I created for myself tools which operate on brain function beyond registered science, which clear random thought, deactivate the hypnosis of human culture, and position the brain for receiving more cohesive waveforms of consciousness. I allowed myself to be neuro-divergent, strange to convention. I did it the hard way, the long way round. Others can more simply make a choice to use patterns already built and available through the layering of labours over unknown time. Simple yes, easy not so much, yet completely possible.

Today feels like a great day to stop beating myself up about the way I cannot seem to convince folk that I am perhaps one of the most benevolent beings on this planet. If your planet is moving into a turgid region of the Great Central Plain, her Core Drive is buggered, copious numbers of brain-splishingly intelligent minds are working round that clock to build a new one and get it fired up, and she's towing a bunch of busted motherships filled with trauma-shagged survivors - I'm the kind of being you want doing problem spotting and mop-up for the Grand Show. But then, what the fuck would I know about anything, anything at all. Some someones told me I need to check my ego, threw on a #tag of 'holier than thou', and told me to go flame somewhere else. I thought I was just sharing some personal understandings about what happens when engaging in motivation and character assigning a person you don't know from a frog- whether they are a toxic frog or green 'good' kind; not telling anyone that they are doing their whole lives wrong and something something about if I 'intend to ascend like the rest of them'. Seems not. A distressing experience? Abso-freaking-lutely. I was bawling when I finally managed to skim through some of the comments, skim because they were paragraphs and paragraphs of heated words I just could not see the justification for. And still don’t. I backed out, not having the neural makeup for that kind of herd stomping. I haven‘t been back to read more responses. I am grateful somewhere for the sticky flypaper effect these events create to pull up deep lingering shit from the psyche. I found some more nuggets of self-worthlessness, ostracism, and their pal confusion. A helpful melancholia for personal growth. No worries peeps, I'm just gonna keep on skimming along out here on the rim in my itsy dingy, pulling out cactus thorns, applying salve, washing off old grit. We can chat later maybe, like much much much later, when you ain't all covered in that human stuff, bein' all messed up in the spokes of your karma wheel. Thanks for the scratches and lashes, and the data points of correlation. I'm off to tweek a few fibre flaps. Perhaps that's just my ego smack-speakin', who gives a knob. The air out here is cold and sweet.

To the knowing LoveLight Entities: Do you think you know then, what it is you are looking at? Do you know the design, understand the motivating principles? Do you know the origin point of locomotion, and conceive of the intent? Do you find the thing you look at to be lacking when compared to your treasured model of things delightful and good? Did the information I gave to you assist you in solidifying your firm cat's cradle of belief as to the inviolate capacity of your mind to give you sound determinations of concluded waveforms? Or, could your referential materials be different to the symbolic arrangements which I employ? I speak like this because the vibration is a vortex riding around my heart and the muscle grows weary from the running. I seek a finish line for this race which you started when you told me what I said, you told me what I meant, you told me why I said it, you told me how I should correct myself, and you told me how to move in your direction; and just to be sure I did, you told me I was less than you, you told me I was illegal, and you told me punishment was my proper due. And the crowd clapped and said 'yay verily' and in conclusion light love peace and joy. Because - you know. You know that you do not recognise my cascades as familial, and therefore switch-shunted me into one of a few categories of option available to your present point of developing cognition. That category does not suit. Do you know what constitution of access is available to one sub-course when another makes truth statements in error as to their basic function? Do you know the convulsion of the fabric's threads which twitch and roll to right the uneven distribution of data cones? Do you know the outlay of filament reset able to be authorised when information arrays pass a critical point of imbalanced reasoning as calculated by code equations initiated at start-up by the observing one in self-revelation? How now brown cow. Quick foxes fly. Flame on. Axis switch point formalised. Tradewind slipform imminent.

Wowee, it is thickly compressive today. I have been listening to my own audio tracks from AFA 1 & 2 to detox and release whatever this tight whirl is. They work for me and I appreciate my own skillset. The latest energetic versions of the audio tracks of SFA 1 and SFA 2 can be purchased individually from this website. Look under the 'Info' tab in the menu for more information on both series. I did have the AFA 1 audio tracks available for quite some time for free online listening via Youtube - with links in this post. Holding the space for the free listening users of this Etheric Tech is a consciousness outlay for me with little return energy, and I am resting that line to restore Balance to my Self. Supporting the free video version of SFA1 was a significant physical/mental/emotional/ outlay and investment for me. I did it to assist the Whole for that period of time, to contribute to a growing wave of shifting understandings within the Earth core and associated outer nets of conscious awareness. I closed that port at a time when I had reached a maximum tolerance of the drain from its traffic. I did not close access because I am greedy for money. I get very little money from any of my work. And I get it, if it's free why pay yeah? But it isn't free to the person providing it, that person is the one paying so they can hand it out to others. I do not have the resource allocation to make it free today. In the ethers I work with Family Groups - large conglomerate minds of originating spirit essence. If you find me and are inclined to work with my Etheric Architecture it is most likely that you were directed to me by your own Family Group. With this blog and website I present a snippet of the outflow which has come from a personal experience spanning about 42 years. My PC archive holds hundreds of recordings now, which over the past 5 years have been on the net in various places. I move my content around frequently as I work steadfastly on my own spiritual growth and process.

So here I am, at the keys, attempting to express a mole-sized smear of how I feel on a daily rotation. Not a basic task really. I have a basket full of human English words which are entertainingly descriptive, and eye-catchingly delightful - like bell-bottom pants. The fare I can make with these words, however, is something like a kid's mud pie - indistinct, bland, with sticky bits showing. So how do I feel? And why the fuck would anyone care? Well, in a small shell which probably contains nuts - they don't, care that is. The progressive learning of this has formed a newly transformed version of how I feel. The latest version seems more welcoming, roomy, quite surprisingly comfortable, with large bookshelves filled with volume after volume of 'thank fuck for that'. What I am saying underneath that is 'I don't care in amounts equal to that level at which others don't care'. What a relief. When I got to having this attitude to my interaction with human life, and how, is all excruciatingly unimportant. Why? Because no-one gives a fuck. Really. I am an expression of some kind of nothing, every second hearing an impersonal directive to be something. Something meaningful, something happy, something useful, something beautiful, something contextual, something clever, something creative, something successful, something not nothing. Yet there it is, like the evergreen pine, never fading at my Core, the unknowable expanse of nothing. It translates into human life as ‘depression’, ‘despair’, ‘anxiety’, 'dis-interest' I suppose. What I do know is that for a long while I have had an increasing inner question of 'why bother?'. As in why bother with humanity, why bother engaging and adding to the pool of what humanity is creating, when I do not find any of it noteworthy? Oh for sure, it can be amazing, astounding, creative, imaginative, skilled, beautiful, expressive; but for all that - what does it accomplish other than the perpetuation of itself? And what does the human animal contribute to the planet, or even cosmos, besides the damage of its presence and moments of fixing that damage so it can feel a sense of expansion from the achievement? As an opinion relevant to an interpretation of the practicality of popularly presented concepts, and a field of thought incorporating the notion that much is redacted from the human mind data pool across eons, I do not believe that the present human mind/body complex is ascending to any place of greater understanding or higher resolution of consciousness than that which it has occupied for unrecorded millennia. It is a creature of patterns, some grand some less so. If you observe sufficiently, every behavioural choice can be seen within its originating design and the outcome can be mapped according to the templates already drawn. How does the conscious mind within the form transpose itself into a new Song - some melody beyond the simple choruses and trills which have played over and over for thousands of years? ~ A paradox spoken. The shift of state will be the outlay of unexpected inspiration greater than the investment of countless cycles.