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Life, twice

by Augmeanted

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1.
Pressed 05:37
There’s this place in my heart where I go when I start feeling bad about what I’ve yet begun, like the Lutheran’s say each judgment (sun)Day: Forgive me for what I’ve left undone. Always pressed for time between the pages of my life. So many roads untrammeled, so many shores. With some ninety-odd years, I’m feeling squeezed beneath my fear. Help me bring what’s to Be inside my More. There’s this place in my soul where I go and I know I’ll be offered up the seeds of what’s to come. As I scratch them their earth, I have to wrestle every urge to abandon them in the dither of what needs done. Am I really beset by all these nameless regrets? Is there really too much that calls my name? Or is it fear-oiled pride that won’t climb upon its pyre where the uncalled pursuits cascade in flame? There’s a way to be when you plant up all your seeds and you care for them with courage and with heart. You’ll pull the weeds of what is not meant to be and you’ll find yourself with ample time to start.
2.
Water Works 03:54
Water arrives in emptiness, taking the shape of loneliness. So carve a space for it to rest so it can work its loveliness. Let the wind caress each breath of fear. Arms wide in T, your wings toward this frontier. Here you hear the heartbeat of each cell. BlizzerEyezed, 10,000 things to tell. What wondrous Love? What wondrous Love? What wondrous Love? What wondrous Love? It resists when you are sinking down. Hug its lift. Your feet lose sight of ground. Breathe this view it dresses ‘round your pain. Hang in Time. You’ll rise on up again. As you inhale its trace of Love that’s real, you know its face by its inescapable heartfeel held within the boundness of your skin not flapping out in want for what has been.
3.
Big Medicine 04:27
When I’m running back and forth searchin’ for more like a lost and lonely boy, calling for his mama in the store. Grabbin’, reachin’, yearnin’, graspin’ for those things I cannot find… Then the music slides under my skin, straight to my heart…big medicine. As I learn that I ought to set them free, all the ones that I love; It gets so hard to believe that this pain is better than holding tight… So I heat up this voice, cook it over this heartfire. And I tie off my choice, just let my longing speak its desire. Fill my black and bluesy bones with the wholeness of the sound… Your song is the only way to heal. You’ll never find your peace in no bottle, pipe or pill. Just close your eyes and simply feel...
4.
I cannot love you more than this. I know you’ll see. Cannot love you more than with this bow worn heartstring. Cannot love who you would rather wish to be. I can only love your heart; it’s breathing honestly. When I see your face from inside your eyes, and I hear that ache smilin’ through their lies, and I feel the sound of your sufferin.’ I want nothing but to hold you close as kin. Hold you close… In the twilit eve where we bravely roam, and you free the songs sung by Shaconoge oaks and your half-lid eyes dance where God only knows, that’s where I find my strength to love you with my no. Love you with no… It’s the risk I’ll take to someday meet you where you peel the mask fiendin’ on your fear. ‘Cause to follow where it wants me to go would betray the Love I know in my soul. You’re in my soul…
5.
With Hold 04:56
Aren’t you tired of standing here, up to neck deep inside your fear? How about this for a change? Just stay awake through your pain. with Hold. Your bones grow stronger when they break. Maybe your big heart needs, something the same? to stitch up tougher with each pitch and roll that Love lets loose inside your soul? So when the time comes to say good-bye, with its Repeat 1 inside your life, you stand there look ‘em in the eye and let the Love connect your heart-wires. But one choice, to go. Just one row to sow. Oh, these fissures when they break and your longing lets loose, gives way with the nightmare that you’ll crash land, bury your big ol’ heart in your own hands.
6.
Doesn’t matter who I be meetin,’ doesn’t matter who I do seek. They will always be gleamin’ a mirrored fragment of my missing piece. Doesn’t matter what I be finding. Doesn’t matter what holds my eye. ‘Cause I’m always reminded that what’s in my hands, lives on inside. Doesn’t matter where I be ramblin’, doesn’t matter where my feet stand. ‘Cause I’ll always be plantin’ where I reclaim more of who I am. I know I’m Home when the Love overflows. Singing these country roads take me home. Doesn’t matter what I be doubtin’, doesn’t matter how much I pout. ‘Cause these roads do always arc homeward toward the glory of being found. Doesn’t matter what ground I till up. Doesn’t matter my hoped for crop. ‘Cause each moment of greenin’ wonder sets its table for my return to Love. I do raise my hand to be more mindful of how I’m greetin’ each soul that I meet, ‘cause I’ll always be returning a mirrored fragment of their piece of me. +++++++++++++++ In dreams long passed, I’d pace the trails that wore the path of the country roads. A Dorothy adorned in her ruby shoes I’d click my heels to those songs of old. We’re bound away, we’re bound away across our wide Missouris. But in the end, we’ve known the way to the place where the roads always go, scenting trails of tobacco smoke. I never thought that I’d return to the lands I left many songs ago. My weary eyes, my beleaguered soul has sung its way Home to my Shenando’. I knew its sound when it sang out on heartstrings strung across all lifetimes. Sung only once, I shed the tears that sound its deep Shenandoahan rhyme.
7.
Stung 06:13
Yes, you’ve beheld the darkness in our world; it clouds your sight from what you can’t see. Blue arcs of light spark from what you behold, let ‘em pierce your scales with their shimmering sting. Wend your way, like a moth in its night. Bedazzled when you’re stung by the Light. Stupefied, tongue lolls around in its place. You’ve scorched your wings in this amazing grace. Will you thin your skin? Prepare it for each jab? Let it blind your need? Stop you still in its path? Each breath it zaps from the heart of a moment’s ride, sends you below its tide into jubilant quiet. Marking records of each time Love stabs into you with its sizzled arc of what else is true. Keeps your heart afloat in all of the murk and the grime. Let it take your breath. Give each its time.
8.
Why’s it have to be so difficult to be inside a single memory? When you breathed it last, slipped further into past, quicksliverin’ through your Needing’s gasp. I’m done of that. Got my backpack packed with each smell, sound, sight of treasure. And inscribed right here, scartrails of each shed tear that recall me to Togethered. Now, I can’t forget this, the way it spiders in the dark with its threads into my heart. Oh, I can’t forget this, the way spirals ‘round in kin when it seals me in my skin. Oh, I can’t forget this, the place it anchors what I know leaving breadcrumbs back to soul. Oh, I won’t forget this… Perhaps it is the way that memories like this ache reinjure the place they made? Or the truth inside their sound? The one you can’t run around, “You are Loved, dust, bones, and ground. You are found.” I’m ready for, a torrent more if it means I’ll feel like this. When I close my eyes, reconnect the wires to throb inside this bliss.
9.
i. Chasing Pomegranate Moons i’m strung-stretched the membrane between time and its timeless. breaking, yolked onto this shimmering point of difficult returns. nesting, as where i yearn to stay dissolves into dawn’s first light. i take her leaves (to my face) while this stillness at the end of all things takes its leave.
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14.
BeLeave You 04:29
Go write here, right now. Ink the page of what is calling you. Profound this somehow. Help the moment find its shape of truth. Your pen takes its place as your hands they learn to leave no trace. Your tongue bears its ache for the words to speak of this landscape. BeLeave you now. Let your tongue drop to its waiting page. BeLeave you now. Take your lead from the wind and sage. BeLeave you now. Give up your search for what’s arcing into view. BeLeave you now. Let your hands swell in their gratitude. Sit where you won’t know what’s to come. Be gentle in your reach for right answers and marks you need hit. Let what’s here be seen. Snip loose your need for the Why that’s wrestling you down. Be the child to its arms. Release your need. You’ll tremble as your found. Your first act of faith is the loss of what you’d rather do, to believe is to leave that restless place that’s lodged inside of you. Tuck your feet in their cross as you settle to receive this loss of the shoulds you won’t do as you sit, behold this ecstatic view.

about

Chosen as a Pitch Perfect Top Album of 2022,

Augmeanted’s debut album takes its name from this Anais Nin quote, “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.”

The 10-track recording, produced at Bemidji’s Supple Studios, is a mix of vocally-driven meditations on the moments that leave us speechless and violin-driven improvisations that say what’s impossible to say.

The album was made possible in part by a Region 2 Arts Council Individual Artist grant with funding from the McKnight Foundation and by the fairy dust and sheer wizardry of Troy Foss.

credits

released June 21, 2022

Mary Overlie: vocals+piano
Geoffrey Taylor: violins, chincello, mandolin

recorded at Cooper House Loft and Supple Studios
mixed by Troy Foss, Supple Studios

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Augmeanted Missoula, montana

Augmeanted invites listeners closer to the transcendent power of living music with their distinctive classical rock vibe, crafting tales & tunes cut free by saw waves of their sound.

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