Regret and Desire

Regret and Desire (2016)

Letting go of both regret and desire is an instrumental component of living a more complete life in the Information Age of the 21st Century. The contemporary world is a whirlwind of information and possessions. Dark moments of a person's past and a person's internal desire to continue acquiring material wealth can blur his or her perception of the current moment. The beauty of the current moment can be quickly lost in a cloud of regret and desire. Too much precious time is wasted on contemplating what could have been instead of what currently is. In a similar manner, much time is wasted on contemplating the pursuits of unattainable desires such as unnecessary luxury goods.

A person who achieves the goal of forfeiting both regret and desire will appreciate the beauty of the current moment more than a person who is living a life stuck in the past (regret) or a life stuck in an imaginary future which may never come true (desire). Also, the pursuit of cosmic wealth (art, literature, music, aesthetics) is much easier when regret and desire are disposed of. In this state of being the creative centers of the mind are brought into a more active and lucid state, allowing for both the creation and the appreciation of intangible cosmic wealth.

Pursuers of material wealth (tangible goods, income, money) could argue that the desire for more is what drives much of the productivity in many economies, which is true to a degree, but a pursuer of cosmic wealth can say:

"At what point does the pursuit of material wealth drown out a life entirely?"

It is fine for a person to proudly work for a living and to be proud of his or her material possessions, but the dedication of an entire life to material wealth will result in an inevitable decay of the spirit.

Letting go of regret and desire is an instrumental part of allowing the human spirit to flourish.

Thought XIII

Thought XIII (2016)

All self-aware life in this cosmos is an infinite spectral reflection of itself, living out the path it thinks it should follow.

21st Century Musician

"21st Century Musician" (2016)

The Uneasy Stranger

The Uneasy Stranger (2016)

Random, old, buried, and once-inaccessible parts of the mind sometimes open up and flourish during the doldrums of routine daily events, such as shopping, cleaning, and miscellaneous chores. The conscience also happens to be born anew during moments of the exact opposite, moments of struggle, chaos, and life-or-death situations. Chadwick knew this, but had yet to experience it to the fullest. He was a thirty-three year old run-of-the-mill office clerk with an excruciatingly simple and predictable life. He drove a grey 2009 Honda Civic to his accounting job at Malteco Financing and he parked it in the exact same spot between 8:37 and 8:41 AM - depending on how he fit into the traffic light patterns of that particular morning. He watched the exact same TV shows as they aired throughout the rigid weekly cycle, thinking the exact same things as each one started and ended, and then going through the exact same motions and mental contemplation each time the credits to a show rolled across his mid-budget flat-screen television. He ate the exact same cycle of meals precisely on schedule as each one was assigned to its particular slot inside each of the seven days. All of his attempts to hang on to this existence of simplicity failed the day he saw the uneasy stranger.

                It was an early autumn Wednesday. Chadwick was out shopping for household supplies and groceries at the local big box store chain called Sawn’s Mart. It was owned by the Sawnson family, the richest family on Earth, and a bumbling lot of greedy, narcissistic psychopaths by all reputable accounts.  Chadwick himself was a household of one. He was far too introverted for dating, far too reclusive for friendship, and far too alienated for roommates or family. In this decrepit solitude Chadwick’s life hummed along with very predictable and mundane tones. This particular shopping trip was no exception. He parked in the dreary suburban parking lot as the late morning sun reflected its own specter across the upper dark band of his car’s windshield. He carefully locked his car, making sure to keep a constant hold of his keys, and then he proceeded into the store towards the automatic doors, completely unaware of the life shaking event which would take place inside.

                He entered the store and pulled out a cart from one of the rows by the main entrance. Then he proceeded to go through his shopping routine. Produce, bread, frozen, snacks, then household essentials. In the cleaning aisle Chadwick was struck by an unthinkable and invisible phantasm. It seemed that none of his fellow Sawn’s Mart shoppers noticed this creature or malicious attack against him. It suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision as a small elusive demon, an evil sprite of sorts. It hopped around the aisle like a small dust devil across a plain and then, at precisely the most opportune moment, it materialized a box-cutter and nicked Chadwick on the right forearm. The pain made him jump and sent his thoughts into a panicked delirium. And yet, this panic was still dwarfed by a completely different one, caused by the fact that not one single shopper noticed this evil creature. None of the six other people in the aisle even raised an eye up at this heinous attack. No one cared. No one noticed.

                In retrospect, the cut was not all that bad. It would leave a mild scar, at worst. Back inside his Civic, Chadwick began to calm down. His last stop on this peculiar shopping trip was the pharmacy section where he bought bandages and antiseptic solution. While driving back home, Chadwick realized he was now more puzzled and confused than scared. The fear of what just transpired was strong, to be sure, but it did not last. It gave way to and internalized questioning of himself. Was that a real attack by a supernatural being? Was it a hallucination? Or was it a very clever trickster of a child looking to get a ruse out of sheepish suburban shoppers in a store? Chadwick knew not what to do or who to call. And so, he went home to watch the next television show on his itinerary, hoping the passage of a few days would put this unfortunate situation far behind him.

                Time did not help. Exactly three days after his final store purchase of band-aids and disinfectant wipes was scanned, Chadwick woke up inside what appeared to be a suburban basement torture chamber. He was completely alone, chained, bound, and dressed only in soiled boxer shorts. The greater part of him did not panic. The smaller part of him expected this event, even though he had no idea how it transpired. All he remembered was the regular shopping trip, then about seventy two hours of a dark void. He felt no immediate sensations when waking up and coming to his senses inside the chamber, but then slowly, the tightness of the straps and chains around his limbs came to attention. His next thought was to produce a scream, but he soon realized that his mouth was taped completely shut. There must have been a force that brought him here… but what was it? And what was that odd and poking, somewhat painful feeling, slowly materializing in his abdomen?

                Who did this? Chadwick’s thoughts began to scramble in on themselves after he realized there was no point in struggling against the bindings, the chains, or the tape. Where am I? Why? Chadwick’s conscience sprung out from the depths of his psyche like a lonely flower on top of a shallow grave. It began to torment him, to interrogate him. The questions started.

                Why did you bully John Wilkson in the fourth grade? He didn’t do anything to you. Why did you do it, Chadwick?

                Why did you reject Sarah Fawler in her attempts at dating you during senior year in high school? She liked you, Chadwick. Why did you do reject her, Chadwick?

                Why did you not drop some coins into the beggar’s cup the last time you went downtown? You have over twelve thousand dollars saved, Chadwick. You don’t need that money, Chadwick. The beggar needed that money more than you, Chadwick. Why didn't you do it, Chadwick?

                This contemplative struggle went on for hours with no end in sight. Eventually Chadwick’s energy began to wane. He knew he could lose consciousness at any moment. His dehydration was reaching unforeseen levels. All struggles failed. All attempts to escape the binds and chains failed. Meekly, Chadwick resigned. This was the end. As the final throes of life’s energy leaked out of him, Chadwick noticed something he had yet not seen inside the dimly lit chamber. He felt almost silly for missing it during all those past hours.

It was a mirror. A perfectly polished, antique mirror that was reminiscent of the pomp and circumstance of Victorian times. It sat slightly off center from his field of vision and about seven feet away from the front of the chain rig. Inside the mirror, an uneasy stranger looked back at him. A small cut from what appeared to be a box cutter blade was visible on his right forearm.

Life Resolved

Life Resolved (2016)

The many enlightened human spirits of this world are sentient, self-aware bands of two-dimensional energy... interacting with one another subjectively, through an objective and tangible 3-D medium.

Time is not real.

Because time is not real, these creatures forget that there are dimensions above and below them. They only know what their socially conditioned senses tell them. Which is... not much.

There is no such thing as death, only a transition. A brief toggle switch. 

Life is an infinite chamber of mirrors. You cannot catch the original in the sea of reflections.

I myself may be an original. And if so, then why am I alive? Simply to be original or to be alive?

Look out to any point with a telescope powerful enough, and you will see bits of energy vibrating 13+ billion years ago... the very same bits of energy that are a part of you in present time.

Outrun the speed of light, and you will travel backwards through time itself.

Isn't that what the tachyon does? This theoretical particle is said to always travel faster than light. How can that be?

A paradox. 

Death is but a passing feeling. It is not real.

Life cannot be bought or sold. It is real.

It simply is, and always will be.

Theory of Everything Equation

Theory of Everything Equation (2016)

∞^(∞)=(∞)^∞ .

Thought IV

Thought IV (2016)

Reality is relative.

Thought III

Thought III (2016)

One cannot pay people starvation level wages... and then blame them for their own poverty in the same breath.

Thought II

Thought II (2016)

People will believe anything their senses tell them.

Mindful Artist

Mindful Artist (2016)



Blessed be the Mindful Artist

Cosmic Spirit, mind and Soul

Money flows and rolls and tumbles

Still the Archive always Knows

Introduction

Welcome to the Creative Multimedia Archive of Vlad Motchoulski. Vlad is a 21st century polymath who specializes in music and writing. He is self-taught in all of his disciplines.

Vlad Motchoulski was born in Moscow, Russia on March 16th, 1988. He endured a turbulent and tumultuous upbringing, being often cast away from his peers and isolated from society altogether. He began to independently study music at age 20 after a meditation session following the ingestion of the entheogen known as Dream Herb. A transcendent experience gave him new perspectives on his life and he began to see the cosmos and his place in it under a new light.

Vlad is completely self-taught in all aspects of music. Having either been financially unable to support lessons or sometimes even outright denied all opportunities by prospective instructors, he forged his own path as he trekked on his musical journey, which he hopes will someday become the pinnacle of his legacy.

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Brief Excerpt from Vlad Motchoulski's Biography:

Biography of Vlad Motchoulski 

(Birth to Age 27)

Vlad was born on March 16th, 1988 at a nondescript hospital in then-Soviet Moscow. Upon leaving the facility he was wrapped in insulating blankets for warmth and shuttled through the dreary streets of the city to his family's apartment in a monolithic five-story building in the Izmailovo district. Political and social turmoil engulfed the city during his early years. One of Vlad’s earliest notable memories is of the 1993 Russian Constitutional Crisis, during which armed tanks from the Taman Division opened fire and bombarded the Russian White House with artillery.

Vlad’s pre-school was in the courtyard of the Soviet-style residential block. It provided a tranquil enclave that acted as a spark for his interest in nature. As a child he enjoyed the ambiance of rainy days and the earthly smell rising from the courtyard’s lawns. During spring the numerous lilac trees would be in bloom, creating a peaceful and pleasant atmosphere. On occasion he would accompany his grandmother on strolls through the aptly named Lilac Boulevard, picking up freshly baked bread from local merchants on their way home.

Soviet agenda permeated the culture and environment at the pre-school. When Vlad was learning how to write, one of the instructors noticed him using his left hand and quickly chastised him for it before forcing him to continue with the “proper” right hand. During recess the teachers would walk away from the children and huddle around a gazebo towards the back of the yard while smoking cigarettes. Nap time was mandatory at this facility and restroom breaks were not permitted until a specific time. Early on Vlad noticed the oppressive structure of this establishment, and it likely played a significant role towards his involvement in social justice and equality as an adult.

Vlad and his family immigrated to the United States in the summer of 1994. His father secured a research position at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana. The family moved to the Purdue Village residential complex in the southwest corner of the town. Vlad was apprehensive of other people during this time and did not initiate much contact with others. Instead he chose to take solitary journeys on his bicycle through the winding sidewalks of the apartment complex. Directly to the south was Purdue University Airport. Upon making this discovery, Vlad became fascinated with the small single engine aircraft that took off and landed there. He was amazed at their sleek beauty and skill of the pilots that maneuvered these machines.

Over time, Vlad began to feel scared and alienated by America. He simply did not understand…

why are these people…

 so…

... angry?

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