Sunday, July 31, 2011

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Where Is My Wild Rose?

These are not my words but when I read them I feel like they could be.  They are by Andrew McMahon.

Sometimes I wonder how my wife reconciles loving this wandering mess that is me. The unspoken fear of so many artists is the discovery of true love. Not the kind of love that burns hard and fast, but the kind that smolders with no end and wouldn't let you go if you tried. I can't speak for all writers, but I know I speak for many when I say that it is a secret fear amongst us that with this smoldering comes the death of an atomic dream. New love is easy art. In the stirring of discovery poetry grows from seed to sunlight in short blistering days. In the light of the unknown the mystery of another makes anything seem possible. In love we are reborn in a frenzied blaze of hyper existence. In the dissolution of love we are blown to pieces. Some pieces we collect in the fallout of moving on and others we leave behind; thumb tacks on the great maps of our personal histories, showing us all the places that we have been.

Last Friday, in search of something I began to drive. The preceding Wednesday, my band and I flew the old metal bird from Los Angeles to Richmond in the spirit of rallying behind a fallen friend. I have known illness, as most of us have, and sitting in a hospital room with a sick man's family is to know love. Not blistering love but real love. We spent two nights playing music and drinking, visiting on porches and watching nights turn to mornings, always reminded by the wages life can take from us in the moments we don't expect. In those days we couldn't stand to be alone, as if we were clinging to each other and the blessing of these long nights that we sadly could not share with our imprisoned friend. In the heat of a Virginia morning, on the heels of these sleepless visits, I rented a car and began my travel; one that would eventually lead me to this hotel room in the California/Nevada mountains from where I am now writing you.

What I ended up finding was a vision of America that I always knew existed, but never truly opened my eyes to. We live in a time so confused by the messages fed to us by our television sets and computer screens, that we so often lose sight of what is real. We live in a nation divided by our allegiances to politicians who often care nothing for us as individuals unless we've lined their pockets and bought the advertisements that lead to their election. Still though, for all our differences, we are simply people and the thread running through all of us is so very much the same. Where we are raised and what we see as children inform our futures in ways that leave some of us so lucky and others so wounded. The things we are told and the things we see as we're pulled from the ground like flowers, broken and beautiful, are so often are the things we become. Still what most of us seem to be searching for is love; this complex connection to another strange traveler. A wind that wakes us in the gloaming as the sun fades behind the hills and reminds us that some nights aren't meant to be slept through. To know another is to know a universe of others, and as I smolder here alone the words could not leave my fingertips fast enough. Sometimes a soul must wander to truly know it is home.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

We Used To Wait

Great Video

Click Above for a cool video with my home and The Arcade Fire.  I hope you enjoy.

And then make your own.....

This is another really cool video I like.  I love how genuine and vulnerable people can be.  It's funny how such a simple question can be so deep and get many different answers from so many people.  Pretty touching stuff.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience

There is pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture on the lonely shore, 
There is a society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more.

-Lord Byron

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Why do people watch the sunset? It's a diminishing act.

Well I don't agree with this completely but I do think it is an interesting thought.  It's by Thoreau and again reiterated in a video I just watched and will post momentarily.  The video was introduced by Spencer Baron so thanks to him.  The dude introduces me to tons of cool stuff.  Thank Heavens.  For instance he let me know that the newest Bright Eyes album was streaming on NPR.  And now I'm listening to it for the second time today.  Here is a link.  I think it is worth a listen.  Actually, it's worth much more than that.  

Cool room!  I wish I had one. And maybe another full of vinyls as well.  Probably not all that necessary though.  

So everyone on facebook is complaining about the weather and I guess it has been pretty bad.  I have been told it was colder today in Salt Lake than in Mcmurdo Bay, Antarctica.  But only by 3 degrees.  I have spent much of my evenings inside my sleeping bag and inside my house.  I think this cold weather will just make me love Spring that much more.  For now I'll spend my weekends in warm social situations like sugarhouse coffee, which has some fine warm beverages as a few of my friends and I found out recently. ( check older posts)   Ok, time for the much anticipated video I promised earlier.  I hope you love it.  

I have been a bit of an emotional wreck this week worrying about life and if I'm doing the right things in the right places but I just gotta let life happen sometimes.  I need to stop worrying about every little detail and worrying about wasting time here in Salt Lake because I can't think of anywhere better for me anyways.  I've got a job, friends, live music and I'm in school so no big deal, right?  I guess I'm a complicated man.  But soon I'll be taking a train to San Francisco for lunch and then back.  Crazy?  Maybe but I'm really excited.   

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Georgia/Sam Beam Dedication. I Love You

Today I miss the South.  The people, the weather, walking barefoot in the grass, fireflies, driving with trees on all sides of me.  Some days I just feel like packing my car and driving back to Georgia.  One day I will but for now I just think about it.  Maybe I just listen to way too much Iron and Wine.  Here is my Georgia dedication.  

For whatever reason the folk music of Sam Beam makes me think of home.  I guess one day I dream of a quiet place to live in the south where I can spend time with my family and listen to folk music and stare off into whatever green scenery is there.  This is possibly my dream home.  Or as close as I can imagine right now.  

Sunday, January 23, 2011

"The older I get the more sensitive I get man, and thank God."

The inspiration for the title to this blog.  Thank you Elliott. I wrote on this cup that I got at Sugarhouse Coffee last night after we were cold from being in Park City.  Walking around during the Sundance Film Festival was cool though.  

Everyone knows I have an obsession with The Beatles but even more so lately. 

Great video by the Fleet Foxes.  Stoked for the new album coming out soon.  
This video is pretty touching.  At least I think it is.  Makes me cry and wish I had a dog.  One of the very few things that continues to touch me even though I have seen it a handful of times.  I wish people were less afraid to show weakness and feelings even when they are hard.  Bon Iver in the background sure helps the feeling of the video as well.  Helps me realize it is OK to love so deeply even if one day it may hurt like hell.