The Boxettes

Our individual knowledge of vibrational creation is so very limited, but our individual ignorance has no known end, and in this ignorance I find new experience in communing with the unknown sounds from whence this realm permits. New experience, from these creators, that just flows from the sol of my feet through the highest hair on my head. Leaving me grateful for today’s technological endless access to an abundance of endless variety.  No instruments required here, and if you have followed this blog by any measure, you would be familiar with the writer’s perspective on creativity, and in theory the combined unconscious affection of vibrational creativity by man and nature’s own flow.  These five ladies embody the word art. Understanding that the word art is not the thing here but limited only by our conditional experiences.  So inspiration to share this vibrational wonderment is present and I do hope your acquaintance with this group pleases your ears such as mine has been pleased.

These sagacious ladies hail from The Island.  The Island is a deep well to draw new music from and it hard for me to not keep throwing the ole bucket down into it.  For more historical info on this group here are links  by The Guardian’s Paul Lester and the Bluefrog. These ladies are independent and seem to be avoiding the cages that contracts impose. They appear to practice what they sing.  Their pledge page is here.

Here are other links for The Boxettes





The first video is a way showing tune. No commentary needed otherwise. The second video, goes way beyond personal relationship for me. It points to all the strings that society has attached to me. It is so much deeper than that which first meets the ear.  The third video exhibits a live performance.


“Religion can never reform mankind because religion is slavery. It is far better to be free, to leave the forts and barricades of fear, to stand erect and face the future with a smile. It is far better to give yourself sometimes to negligence, to drift with wave and tide, with the blind force of the world, to think and dream, to forget the chains and limitations of the breathing life, to forget purpose and object, to lounge in the picture gallery of the brain, to feel once more the clasps and kisses of the past, to bring life’s morning back, to see again the forms and faces of the dead, to paint fair pictures for the coming years, to forget all Gods, their promises and threats, to feel within your veins life’s joyous stream and hear the martial music, the rhythmic beating of your fearless heart. And then to rouse yourself to do all useful things, to reach with thought and deed the ideal in your brain, to give your fancies wing, that they, like chemist bees, may find art’s nectar in the weeds of common things, to look with trained and steady eyes for facts, to find the subtle threads that join the distant with the now, to increase knowledge, to take burdens from the weak, to develop the brain, to defend the right, to make a palace for the soul. This is real religion. This is real worship.” Robert G. Ingersoll




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