Come And Drink From
The Well That Is Deep…

I welcome all the weary travelers 
that have come !

An Invitation From The Lord…

There will be no rest this Sabbath Day
as there are many sheep that
have fallen into the
dark well.

As I reached into the well to rescue you
My sheep in peril I ask that
you reach out for
My people.

My children must gather and come to know
Me Their Holy God
in the way I have come
to you and you
to Me.

I Am The Center around which
All Things revolve…

I 
Am
The Axis.
I Am The Keel.
I Am The Meal Served.

Feed My children as I have fed thee.

Lay down your life for them
as I have done for thee.

Speak The Truth I have given thee.
Tell them not to fear and
not to flee from
Me.

The First Drink Is The Sweetest but 
will be bitter to the stomach.

Give them freely of all you have been given.
Hold nothing back for it is of My Spirit.

I will refill the cup that Overfloweth.

I grant you more…

feed them The Manna I Provide...
The Precious Things of Heaven
The Precious Things of 
My Kingdom that Cometh.

And I will fill the baskets that are empty.

The frail and broken hearts
need mending as
fabric that
is torn. 

I will open the flood gates of
My Well That Is Deep
Come all ye that are thirsty and in need.

Gather ye all  At The Well that is fed by
My Rivers of My Living Water.

Be ye as the tree firmly rooted
beside My Rivers that
bring release,
renewal
and
the restoration of your 
hearts and souls.

I Am The Keeper And I Invite
you to enter My Chamber That Is Holy
for rent is the curtain that once separated us.

It was finished at The Cross of Your Salvation.
Bow and open your heart that you may be rent,
be rent By My Spirit That Is Holy
be ye rent in The Light of  My Truth 
that now will enter into your dark
place of fear and aloneness, 
the chambers hidden. 

Though in darkness you may fear My Light
trust ye in Me and be not afraid for
I Have Come to set you free.

I have been waiting patiently.
I have been preparing for this time.
I now call My sheep that are My children 
Unto Me Your Lord
And Your God…

You are Mine And Mine Alone.

You will know My Voice
The Voice of Your Shepherd.
I Am Your Faithful And 
Your Trusted Friend.

I Am The First And I Am The Last...
I have come to deliver you from
bondage once again !!!

A bride that is hidden is not seen, sees not 
and knows not her Husband.

I Lift The Veil
that she may see by The Light of
My Lampstand.

I say there is A Day Coming and it is near…
The Day of The Wedding
that so rapidly approaches.

Be not as the foolish virgins that
sought The Oil for their
lamps in the world.

That which I Giveth cannot be taken away.
That which you will receive of Me
is that which you seek.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I will reveal to you the Deep Things…
From The Well That Is Deep !

Come all ye and be ye found.
Come all ye that seek.

Received of The Lord
October 28,  2006
Cd’A


Here you will find a little snippet taste of material from artists who play at deep snail.

For more vibes, check out www.lsdachshund.com

The Tale of The Snail:

A little while ago, deep within the deepest depths of the amazonian rainforest, in parts little explored even by tribesmen existed a small settlement of rare snail. All lived in harmony and peace going about their daily activities, tending to their wares and nurturing the baby snizzles. Our hero to be (a young, intelligent creature) was out and about one day as he always was. A keen interest in exploration of the forest drew him further and further away from the settlement and as time progressed he decided that his adventures on this day should lead him to the forbidden tree of foresight and wisdom which was only to be approached by the shamanic snail of the group.

Feeling fool-hardy and high on life, after a little look around to check no one was watching, he threw caution to the wind and began to feast on the fabled bark, in blatent disregard of the tradition of his elders. Oh how he ate, ate like he'd never eaten before, in a veritable frenzy of saliva and woodchippings. After he was through with the illicit meal, he stopped to smoke a pipe and have a little lie-down under some sort of mushroom. Pretty soon his vision began to get a little blurry and certain colours became much more prominent and his shell actually started to vibrate at quite a high frequency. 'Hang on a minute, this isn't normal' he thought to himself as non-existent creatures began to enter his peripheral vision and various plants around him began to pulsate in time to his own heartbeat. He barely had time to regret feasting on the Tree of Pavlova before he found himself casually cruising through hyperspace at a rate beyond his control. Time was non-existent here and after an un-known period, maybe days or weeks, he blinked and was in the middle of a large plaza, surround by tall buildings of concrete and glass. This was Alexanderplatz and he was in Berlin.

A completely alien environment rendered our hero confused and disorientated. Bewildered by the monumental structures, blinding city lights and mechanical sounds of passing trams and automobiles he slowly slimed his way in a circle around the platz for hours. After about four hours of sliming a curious sound caught his ears. Warm frequencies and repetitive beats made his eyestalks tingle and filled him with fresh energy and determination. He followed the positive vibrations to the outskirts of the plaza and down a non-descript stairway, he was filled with uncertainty and excitement about what lay beyond.

The sights and sounds that greeted him far exceeded his wildest expectation, everywhere he looked ecstatic molluscs were shaking and grooving under an array beautiful multicoloured decor, eyes closed, lost in a myriad of lights, movement and meditation. Music wafted through the air and hours of sliming passed, where not a bad sound was heard or sad face pulled. This was atmospheric perfection. A place where all could reach the same state of elation under one roof something like the shamanic gatherings of the small amazonian tribe but with crisp smooth sounds carrying the molluscs on their journey. Smiling to himself our snail realized that this is what the Tree of Pavlova had intended for him. By the end of the party he had accumulated some knowledge of the music from the friendly German snails and how he was to again find something of this beauty.

The next month or so was a blur of parties. He now wore fine urban designs on his amazonian shell (which seemed to glow a little more after each night) and wasted little time outside nightclub and hot tub. Friend to many DJ's and a choice selection of powerful players in the underground music industry, he was at the top of his game. One morning he woke after a series of microdreams in his sequence of snoozes and realised that he must spread his knowledge to the people of Europe. His adventure took him to many capitals, Copenhagen, Stockholm, Budapest, Kiev (where he learned to bake pastries), Ljubljana (where he learned the art of cheese rolling) and Moscow to name but a few. Presenting impeccable parties to countless numbers of snails and leaving waves of mystery and musical consciousness in his wake our hero was indeed a noble creature. London was next. He arrived amidst the warm months and proceeded with his usual promotional activities. On the last Saturday of July there was to be held a monumental event running across two days showcasing the finest European talent including several of his DJ friends from Berlin. The doors opened and a flood of shelled party goers descended upon the 4 dance floors eager to have a piece of the action. The night was a huge success and he was invited to one of the English DJ's afterparties. The house that they were to return to was in Clapham Junction an area unknown to the snail but even though the DJ said it was a bit of a journey to get to he accepted.

The final snail slimed tiredly out of the club and the crew began to remove hangings and projectors. He stuck around to oversee that everything was going to plan then left for the station with his new friends. All in high spirits still energised from the music they had not a care in the world but on the way to the station great misfortune struck. They were accosted by an unruly group of slugs who mugged them for their wares and slimed off at top speed to be lost from sight just as quickly as they appeared. Luckily one of the snails managed to escape with his debit card and bought tickets for all the others. They boarded the train and after a few stops there was no one left in the carriage. Just before the group reached Clapham Junction, or heroes bladder demanded he visit the toilet. The train stopped and he tried to open the door with no success. He heard his friends leaving the train but in their inebriated state had forgotten that he was in the toilet!

To his horror the train began moving and he was forced to endure the smelly imprisonment for the entirety of the journey. When the train finally stopped for good a helpful train cleaner pried the door open for him and with great relief he slimed off the train to find himself in the city of Brighton. As there were no more trains back to London he decided to slime around until daybreak after contacting his friends to tell them of his predicament. The white coloured buildings and hilly streets sat on the background of a deep green ocean and a fresh saltiness breezed against his feelers. What is this place!? He thought to himself. The day rolled on and the snail became more and more captivated by the city and so decided to stay for a few days. He headed to the bank that afternoon with his passport (which he had sneakily tucked into his shell when the slugs had assaulted him and his friends ) and managed to withdraw some money for a reasonably comfy hotel room with a sea view. The Brighton days turned to weeks and nearly a month went past.

Suffice to say our hero had found himself once again in a place which felt like home but this time required his precious skill and incredible talent. The adventure that the Tree of Pavlova had laid out for the snail had brought him to the place where he felt aligned with the essence of the milk of the great dachshund and would throw some parties that the city would never forget.

😅🤢🤮🤮
ig: prisonic0000
@trash-gulf
@witherforest

For business inquiries contact Terrance@markimanagment.com and cnotersrs@gmail.com

A lifetime student of music, Grammy nominated composer/musician Jacob Sanders has appeared on over 30 albums with credits including performance, writing and production. 

Currently on tour with hip-hop icon Big Daddy Kane - other notable links - Anthony Hamilton, Keyon Harrold, Ron Miles, Moby, The Slip, Jon Faddis, J.Most, Emily King, Ben Senterfit, and Uri Djemal. He's provided remixes for such artists as OK GO, Paul Simon, Raheem DeVaughn.

As the Creative Director for CueBro Audio Productions, he's helped to capture international placements with GE, TLC's "Breaking Amish", Nike, Corona, Anderson Cooper, San Miguel Beer, Naturalizer, NFL Films, History Detectives on PBS, Twig Science, and Bryant College. Film Scoring credits include original soundtracks for several movies, one of which (Back Door Channels) made its World Premiere at the Abu Dhabi Film Festival, winning 11 Telly Awards, making it the most awarded documentary of 2012. 

Recently he has collaborated with some of the world's finest dance companies; a.gise and dancers and Chris Ferris & Dancers in NYC and Kibbutz Contemporary Dance in Israel. He's also provided original musical works for local choreographers Jenny Stulberg, Katie Chakey, and Lexy Rose.

His work as a sound designer has been utilized by the world famous Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum in Times Square, as well as LA based director, Philly K. Recorded cues, composed music, edited, mixed and mastered Dolby 2.0 surround sound design for immersive short film in a custom built 4D theater. Collaborated with Toronto based SimEx-Iwerks on adhering FX with film.

In addition to being dashingly handsome, he is an enthusiast for all things contradictory. The name WhaleHawk demonstrates this enthusiasm along with the style of music which can be all of the genres at once while not being one of them twice.


Welcome to the F.O.O.L Army.
https://linktr.ee/foolmusic

Business Inquiries:
management@foolmusic.net
Contact:
fool@foolmusic.net

Description
	
You are cordially invited to a night of fun festival vibes, a powerful selection of eclectic decorations and most importantly, quality music! With a selection of the finest up and coming DJ's/Producers and Live acts.

Expect circus performers, live musicians, Amazonian e...xperiences, fruity visuals, games, (pass the pickle anyone?) crowd interactions, and our very own stall stocking exciting trinkets.


Line-Up:

-LITTLE THOUGHTS- http://soundcloud.com/littlethoughts

-TECHNICAL PILLOW- http://soundcloud.com/technicalpillow

-COLOUR- http://soundcloud.com/colour-music

-MEAKIN- http://soundcloud.com/meakin/epic-quest

-STAVROS- http://soundcloud.com/stephenhowe

-DAN KING- http://soundcloud.com/dan-king-music

---Live Electronic Acts---

-WEAVE- http://soundcloud.com/weave

-DrDr- http://soundcloud.com/drdrmusic



and more tbc...


We intend to feed you choice minimal techno and deep progressive tech house. Dance music that is not about big loud noises.

As well as this you can look forward to some Psy-Dub, Trip-Hop, Electro, 2-Step, Electronica and some live music to tantalize other segments of your tastes.

All this for a very reasonable 3 squids (£3).



The Tale of The Snail:

A little while ago, deep within the deepest depths of the amazonian rainforest, in parts little explored even by tribesmen existed a small settlement of rare snail. All lived in harmony and peace going about their daily activities, tending to their wares and nurturing the baby snizzles. Our hero to be (a young, intelligent creature) was out and about one day as he always was. A keen interest in exploration of the forest drew him further and further away from the settlement and as time progressed he decided that his adventures on this day should lead him to the forbidden tree of foresight and wisdom which was only to be approached by the shamanic snail of the group.

Feeling fool-hardy and high on life, after a little look around to check no one was watching, he threw caution to the wind and began to feast on the fabled bark, in blatent disregard of the tradition of his elders. Oh how he ate, ate like he'd never eaten before, in a veritable frenzy of saliva and woodchippings. After he was through with the illicit meal, he stopped to smoke a pipe and have a little lie-down under some sort of mushroom. Pretty soon his vision began to get a little blurry and certain colours became much more prominent and his shell actually started to vibrate at quite a high frequency. 'Hang on a minute, this isn't normal' he thought to himself as non-existent creatures began to enter his peripheral vision and various plants around him began to pulsate in time to his own heartbeat. He barely had time to regret feasting on the Tree of Pavlova before he found himself casually cruising through hyperspace at a rate beyond his control. Time was non-existent here and after an un-known period, maybe days or weeks, he blinked and was in the middle of a large plaza, surround by tall buildings of concrete and glass. This was Alexanderplatz and he was in Berlin.

A completely alien environment rendered our hero confused and completely disorientated. Bewildered by the monumental structures, blinding city lights and mechanical sounds of passing trams and automobiles he slowly slimed his way in a circle around the platz for hours. After about four hours of sliming a curious sound caught his ears. Warm frequencies and repetitive beats made his eyestalks tingle and filled him with fresh energy and determination. He followed the positive vibrations to the outskirts of the plaza and down a non-descript stairway, he was filled with uncertainty and excitement about what lay beyond.

The sights and sounds that greeted him far exceeded his wildest expectation, everywhere he looked ecstatic molluscs were shaking and grooving under an array beautiful multicoloured decor, eyes closed, lost in a myriad of lights, movement and meditation. Music wafted through the air and hours of sliming passed, where not a bad sound was heard or sad face pulled. This was atmospheric perfection. A place where all could reach the same state of elation under one roof something like the shamanic gatherings of the small amazonian tribe but with crisp smooth sounds carrying the molluscs on their journey. Smiling to himself our snail realized that this is what the Tree of Pavlova had intended for him. By the end of the party he had accumulated some knowledge of the music from the friendly German snails and how he was to again find something of this beauty.

The next month or so was a blur of parties. He now wore fine urban designs on his amazonian shell (which seemed to glow a little more after each night) and wasted little time outside nightclub and hot tub. Friend to many DJ's and a choice selection of powerful players in the underground music industry, he was at the top of his game. One morning he woke after a series of microdreams in his sequence of snoozes and realised that he must spread his knowledge to the people of Europe. His adventure took him to many capitals, Copenhagen, Stockholm, Budapest, Kiev (where he learned to bake pastries), Ljubljana (where he learned the art of cheese rolling) and Moscow to name but a few. Presenting impeccable parties to countless numbers of snails and leaving waves of mystery and musical consciousness in his wake our hero was indeed a noble creature. London was next. He arrived amidst the warm months and proceeded with his usual promotional activities. On the last Saturday of July there was to be held a monumental event running across two days showcasing the finest European talent including several of his DJ friends from Berlin. The doors opened and a flood of shelled party goers descended upon the 4 dance floors eager to have a piece of the action. The night was a huge success and he was invited to one of the English DJ's afterparties. The house that they were to return to was in Clapham Junction an area unknown to the snail but even though the DJ said it was a bit of a journey to get to he accepted.

The final snail slimed tiredly out of the club and the crew began to remove hangings and projectors. He stuck around to oversee that everything was going to plan then left for the station with his new friends. All in high spirits still energised from the music they had not a care in the world but on the way to the station great misfortune struck. They were accosted by an unruly group of slugs who mugged them for their wares and slimed off at top speed to be lost from sight just as quickly as they appeared. Luckily one of the snails managed to escape with his debit card and bought tickets for all the others. They boarded the train and after a few stops there was no one left in the carriage. Just before the group reached Clapham Junction, or heroes bladder demanded he visit the toilet. The train stopped and he tried to open the door with no success. He heard his friends leaving the train but in their inebriated state had forgotten that he was in the toilet!

To his horror the train began moving and he was forced to endure the smelly imprisonment for the entirety of the journey. When the train finally stopped for good a helpful train cleaner pried the door open for him and with great relief he slimed off the train to find himself in the city of Brighton. As there were no more trains back to London and no he decided to slime around until daybreak after contacting his friends to tell them of his predicament. The white coloured buildings and hilly streets sat on the background of a deep green ocean and a fresh saltiness breezed against his feelers. What is this place!? He thought to himself. The day rolled on and the snail became more and more captivated by the city and so decided to stay for a few days. He headed to the bank that afternoon with his passport (which he had sneakily tucked into his shell when the slugs had assaulted him and his friends ) and managed to withdraw some money for a reasonably comfy hotel room with a sea view. The Brighton days turned to weeks and nearly a month went past.

Suffice to say our hero had found himself once again in a place which felt like home but this time required his precious skill and incredible talent. The adventure that the Tree of Pavlova had laid out for the snail had brought him to the place where he felt aligned with the essence of the milk of the great dachshund and would throw some parties that the city would never forget.



NO SLUGS. 

Leo Havva is following