Neculai Fantanaru

Everything Depends On The Leader

Lily Was Here

On June 29, 2017
, in
Leadership Plus by Neculai Fantanaru

Ensure your integration into a mystery that tests your boundaries between what you represent as an artist and what ascends you to the heavens.

I was in the presence of a new atypical diversion, launched by a deepening of the notion of "affliction" to the absolute in the embodiment of the perfection. Somehow, I thought I was living in a obvious contempt for the darkness without space and time, unfavorable to personal escape from the hell of a progressive utopia. And something was able to energize me with the possibility of revealing the mystery, always transforming into another, entering the sights of knowledge and giving me courage and immortality.

The emotion I felt, like a gong echo, which I was trying to communicate in front of the mystery, fed through fictitious fidelity. As if I had to discover the face of a deeper God, always within me, testing my special ability to realize the idea and the feeling not directly, by deed, but through a poetic rendition.

The force that inspires you is a triumph over the pride of recognizing yourself as pleased with yourself as belonging to a higher mystery that no one is able to really solve. Just as listening to a soothing music coming out from beyond you, from unknown spheres, that uplifting and simultaneously purifies you.

However, I can at least give you an impression of what made me more creative, alongside the magnificent proof of an authentic feeling, as the newest theory of mystery in the fantasy plane I had then, the most intense breath of life that pushed me more and more towards the immeasurable.

And I had it not from a worldly accomplice who contributed to the shaping of a mysterious space, not from a philosopher of art, not from a theorist of symbolism or from a great critic of direction to prolonging the axis of a whole existence. But from a note of originality, from a work of great artistic refinement, transposed into a note of assumed madness, in which everything was possible, even if the echo was announced to be extremely hot.

Leadership: Have you ever had the revelation of a new identity if you realize that what delimits and defines you largely depends on what is found in the fragmentary character of the moment?

This state of grace and exaltation, and the ambition to advance in this direction, came from a combination of saxophone and acoustic guitar, to the rhythms of blind verses that could only be understood by reference to a sort of flight over the world’s roof, to a drop of happiness on the wings of the wind or to a divine self-exile in the physical world. Under one name "Lily Was Here."

It was all that personal emotion, such as the sublime of a force to which you can only admire the majesty, from which you can feel eternally a strange calling with that lucidity that makes you wonder: who are you? Completed by the artist’s sense with that fragmentary character of the moment caught between a memorable journey in time and the corollary of an abstract reason with the possibility of real-world transposition.

It was the rhythmic expression of the need to sit at the opposite pole of immediate existence, on the refrain of deepening in the seductive nets of the desire to taste the glory of a moment of genius, which implicitly appears to be dependent on an infinite ecstasy. Reflecting on the way an artist conveys and processes the various and contradictory aspects of reality in his own way of general acceptance of the world.

I had it in my heart, in the fullness of a charm, with a beginning and seemingly endless, in a continuous, often incomprehensible logical reasoning, revealing only the inspired looks of the artist who is drawing new perspectives by the impulse received from the Universe. It was the ambrosia that only the gods drink.

Leadership: Can you see your own image mirrored in someone else as towards everything that lifts you in an instant at previously unpredictable heights?

The old Kabbalists, wishing to give God an extra merit, said the world was created out of love. But on the rhythms of heights heard only by HIM, in the variations on the relationship between the delicacy of an intense and expressive area, and the creative wealth of improvisations.

Or this universal voice that renews the excitement of an exaggerated duty to decide the movements of time on the wavelength of sensitivity, intelligence, imagination and purity, even if you measure its intensity, you still have plenty left to penetrate down to its depth to recognize its perfection.

Completeness is the reality that you attach from the quilt of an endless imagination whose arrows do not have to hurt your pride in succeeding in integrating you into a mystery that tests your boundaries between what you represent as an artist and what lifts you up to the heavens. In this respect, my identity seemed rather a feature of a voice that made it possible to hear the melody of the universe, integrated in the range of the reverberation effect, or an endless delay, as an odyssey of the remembrance of an existence dedicated to the communion between cultures and mentalities, beyond time and prejudice.

I knew from the first moment that I climbed the stairs of the spiral staircase that led to the height of her seductive, dizzying and immortal rhythm, searching in the endless space of myself the meanings entrenched from the beginning of the world to the present that I could lose my orientation. I fell in love with the living leaven of a deep sensibility of the ingenuity of pure creation, just as Pygmalion fell in love with a marble statue. The difference lies in the refreshing signal and in the message that each one eventually amplified.

And whenever I feel like I want to move mountains, when I begin to immerse myself in an eternal dream like a bird that rotates, then rises upward, spreading its powerful wings over the world, just as many times the heart, full of the mystery that only God emanates from the overwhelming universe, feels obliged to respond to the notes of a glamorous area: "Lily Was Here."

Seeing your own image mirrored in someone greater than you means accessing that intensity of sensitivity that motivates you to see in your own life how a theme is reflected, an idea, a perspective that emphasizes association with the universal voice of God.

Lily Was Here is the moment of inspirational forces that can be determined by using the expression: dream + consciousness = art, in practice being likely to apply only if the real world of the infinite within you is the creation of a great artist, God.

* Note: Dave Stewart and Candy Dulfer - Lily Was Here

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