there is so much i could blog about right now. and so much i would love to rant and rave and bitch about, but i'm not going to. there's not much i feel overly inspired to write about except for the things that would upset some people. but i feel it necessary to at least give an update on my life. after all, it's been over a week and i start to feel guilty when i neglect my word space.
last week must have not been too exciting - i don't really remember much of anything that happened. i got news of quite a few shows coming up in mid-march, but that's about it. there's state & madison at the eastside tavern in columbia march 13th, hopefully a state & madison show here on campus march 14th [that i'm still in the process of putting together], both cavashawn AND state & madison in st. louis march 18th at cicero's [with amanda!], and a whole slew of bands [hopefully with a whole slew of friends] in chicago march 28th at mojoe's. [the latter is going to be a party and a half.] i can't wait for march to get here!
the weekend was great. i went home to see a good friend of mine play a show at cicero's. she played a wonderful set and had a quite a few fans there. i'm excited to see where things are headed for her. overall, the weekend was great - i got to spend good quality time with some two of my best friends. we went to dinner, we had some very deep conversation over great coffee, and watched two very thought provoking movies. if you've never seen them, i highly recommend both the fountain and into the wild. i also got to spend some time with my extended family; we got together at my grandparents house and celebrated a few birthdays with the always amazing angelo's pizza. if life ever brings you through st. louis, go to angelo's. and call me, so i can go with you.
as for this week so far... my internet world was in a sense turned upside down and chaos has been ensuing. but most of you who read this either would have no idea what i was talking about and not care, or you already know what's going on and don't need me to elaborate. i think i settled things for myself, but others are having a bit of a time of it. we'll see how things go i guess.
sorry i don't lead more of an exciting life... and that i'm so lame the only real drama i experience in life is via the internet... but oh well. i'm kind of content with being lame.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
enya and packed lunches
these are the two things that remind me of my mom with such great intensity. she loved enya, and owned at least six or seven of her cd's. it all started with the song 'only time' that somehow ended upon a tv show, and then top 40 radio. so when i was driving her car for a while over break, so many feelings came rushing back. the cd holder is still on the visor and i kept pulling out cd's to see what was there - enya after enya after enya. i guess my dad just listens to the radio. but i popped one in and WOW was i reeled back in time. what a huge wave of nostalgia. i remember the times we would be out driving and laughing as we tried to sing along to the latin or welsh or whatever gibberish she would sing in. orinoco flow was our favorite. i still buy enya's music - there have been two albums released that my mom never had the chance to get. i don't listen to them really, but i figure it would make my mom happy, knowing that i still think about her musical tastes.
then there's the packed lunch. i hated school food, absolutely hated it. and my mom was a health nut, so she was more than happy to pack me a lunch every day for school. every day for a good ten years. yes, my mom still packed my lunch when i was in highschool. she was just that awesome. but she put so much thought and care into it. there was always a sandwich, some sort of fruit, chips, dessert, and usually milk and a little note or piece of candy. in highschool, sometimes i'd sneak up to her classroom and use her microwave to warm up leftovers. but no matter what she had going on in her life, she always found ten minutes to make me a healthy lunch. and looking back, i didn't appreciate it near as much as i should have. she bought my favorite kinds of bread and cheese. she sliced apples for me. she'd pack homemade cookies, not store bought. and sometimes she'd even make chocolate milk. she even remembered a napkin. too many times, i just threw away the things i didn't want. it's probably dumb, but i really regret that. i wish i would have just eaten my grapes and not pawned them off to a friend or thrown them away. so thanks mommy dearest, thanks for packing me a healthy lunch every day. i really appreciate it. and i'll do the same for my kids.
then there's the packed lunch. i hated school food, absolutely hated it. and my mom was a health nut, so she was more than happy to pack me a lunch every day for school. every day for a good ten years. yes, my mom still packed my lunch when i was in highschool. she was just that awesome. but she put so much thought and care into it. there was always a sandwich, some sort of fruit, chips, dessert, and usually milk and a little note or piece of candy. in highschool, sometimes i'd sneak up to her classroom and use her microwave to warm up leftovers. but no matter what she had going on in her life, she always found ten minutes to make me a healthy lunch. and looking back, i didn't appreciate it near as much as i should have. she bought my favorite kinds of bread and cheese. she sliced apples for me. she'd pack homemade cookies, not store bought. and sometimes she'd even make chocolate milk. she even remembered a napkin. too many times, i just threw away the things i didn't want. it's probably dumb, but i really regret that. i wish i would have just eaten my grapes and not pawned them off to a friend or thrown them away. so thanks mommy dearest, thanks for packing me a healthy lunch every day. i really appreciate it. and i'll do the same for my kids.
Monday, February 9, 2009
feel like rain
it's amazing how much my mood is affected by the weather. spring and summer with all the warmth and sunny things - i'm generally a happy person and love life. fall [with the beginning of school sucking the life out of me] and the general dreariness of winter - totally different story. i'm a MESS. cranky, angry and angsty, depressed and horribly cynical. i can't sleep and the littlest bit of stress hits me like a ton of bricks.
BUT, the weather has been fabulous lately and has really lifted my spirits. and today was all windy and rainy - it just makes me want to write. so writing is what i've been doing. mainly in the form of poetry, since that's the class i'm in. [why not write poems, when i can turn them in for credit too?] i can't wait for real spring weather to come and stay. i can't wait to drive with the windows down. and i can't wait to swing on swings at parks and lay outside on new green grass. i love feeling like a kid again, and spring weather does it best.
'and we feel like rain
when the words all sound the same,
in the lifeless corners of this empty frame.
though we feel let down
by the same old autumn breathing,
winter's curse is just around the bend.
and we feel like rain
when the words all sound the same
as the curtain closes on another day. '
-mcs
BUT, the weather has been fabulous lately and has really lifted my spirits. and today was all windy and rainy - it just makes me want to write. so writing is what i've been doing. mainly in the form of poetry, since that's the class i'm in. [why not write poems, when i can turn them in for credit too?] i can't wait for real spring weather to come and stay. i can't wait to drive with the windows down. and i can't wait to swing on swings at parks and lay outside on new green grass. i love feeling like a kid again, and spring weather does it best.
'and we feel like rain
when the words all sound the same,
in the lifeless corners of this empty frame.
though we feel let down
by the same old autumn breathing,
winter's curse is just around the bend.
and we feel like rain
when the words all sound the same
as the curtain closes on another day. '
-mcs
Monday, February 2, 2009
finding the pearl
interesting title, i know. i swiped it from an article i read online awhile back. it was about finding your muse and how to use it, and how to ease the inspiriation out from within; how to find that little piece of insight. in a sense, how to 'find the pearl' in the million oysters at the bottom of the ocean.
i like to write, that's no secret. i've enjoyed writing all my life and it's a natural God given talent that i am lucky enough to possess. the inevitable writers block strikes everyone though, and it's usually at the worst of times. so how should you get past it? find your muse. find what inspires you. it can take time, sometimes weeks, months, even years. but you must find the source of your inspiration, your drive, your passion. you have to find that source that makes you giddy, that gives you a certain euphoric high, that makes you feel like you're on top of the world with a pen in your hand, that makes you feel free, that makes you feel like the most powerful person in the world, receiving the most baffling of revelations. but revelations of what? and from where? you have to find that muse.
it's taken me a while, and by no means do i have anything figured out. but i think i'm getting there. i think i'm learning how to search for it, how to look within myself and try and pry out that impish muse frmo the depoths of my mind. it's elusive, let me tell you. the harder you try, soemtimes the harder it is to grab at. but i have the ideal picture of it painted in my head and for right now, that's good enough. it probably won't make sense, but this is what i see. to me, inspiration is this. and it comes from this. from somewhere inside of me. my heart, my head, my soul, my unconscious. something like that. this is an excerpt of a journal entry i wrote a few months ago, and i think these parts capture my idea of a muse best.
"i feel the heaviness of it deep within my soul, and i feel the darkness of it. it's never going to be light and pretty, it's the way my inspiration works. heavy and dark. it's brand new. i want to BE brand new's lyrics. i want to belong to jesse lacey's words. i want them to flow through me and be a part of me. it's that certain music that gives me that feeling. what feeling? i don't know. just THAT feeling. it's also death cab, sufjan stevens, we the living, kings of leon, sigur ros, band of horses, thrice, third eye blind, damien rice. it's brothers on a hotel bed, john wayne gacy jr., demons, western front, volcano, motorcycle drive by, god of wine, losing a whole year, no one's gonna love you, volcano, rootless tree. and most of all a song for milly michaelson. in one song, it's a song for milly michaelson. what do these songs all have on common? i don't know. it's running on the cold, dark beach in a dress, long hair flowing behind me, and it's early in the morning with the sun just rising. even though i hate the cold. and even though i hate the early morning. or it's at dusk with the sun just setting. it's only partial light. or it's a lovely spring day. spring specifically; with so much potential in the air for unknown things to bloom into unknown beauty. it's innocence, but tainted. it's splashing in those cold waves on the beach, tasting the frothy salt on my lips. laying down on the damp sand and letting warm tears slip from the corners of my eyes. so much heaviness that i have supressed. so much hurt that lies deep within my heart. it's being alone even though i hate it. and it's being in emotional distress even though i hurt from it. and it's longing for a perfect lover, but not wanting that longing to come true. because that is precisely what drives my fingers to scratch pen across paper. and that pain is precisely what drives me, what stirs my innermost being, what stirs my soul, what fills my heart and gives me the clearest picture of how to put these thoughts and feelings into words. these are the things that put words in my mouth. why is it always pain that drives me wild?"
i hope that paints the slightest bit of a picture of what drives me. that's my muse. i don't have a name or a word for it. but that paragraph is it. and that paragraph continues to grow, but in essence, there it is. if you have insight, please i BEG of you enlighten me. i would love to have a different perspective.
i leave you with a beautiful and thought-provoking quote to ponder, courtesy of charles simic.
"what makes the act of composition so complex is this mixture of deliberate and involuntary? one is continually torn between the desire to yield and the desire to assert oneself. the peculiar intensity and weight words have in a good poem are probably due to this split, and the turmoil it causes in the psyche. in any case, the great wish is to make room, to let the spirit of the occasion manifest itself. a poem which would be a threshold between two immensities where the poet is simply the ceremonial doorman."
i like to write, that's no secret. i've enjoyed writing all my life and it's a natural God given talent that i am lucky enough to possess. the inevitable writers block strikes everyone though, and it's usually at the worst of times. so how should you get past it? find your muse. find what inspires you. it can take time, sometimes weeks, months, even years. but you must find the source of your inspiration, your drive, your passion. you have to find that source that makes you giddy, that gives you a certain euphoric high, that makes you feel like you're on top of the world with a pen in your hand, that makes you feel free, that makes you feel like the most powerful person in the world, receiving the most baffling of revelations. but revelations of what? and from where? you have to find that muse.
it's taken me a while, and by no means do i have anything figured out. but i think i'm getting there. i think i'm learning how to search for it, how to look within myself and try and pry out that impish muse frmo the depoths of my mind. it's elusive, let me tell you. the harder you try, soemtimes the harder it is to grab at. but i have the ideal picture of it painted in my head and for right now, that's good enough. it probably won't make sense, but this is what i see. to me, inspiration is this. and it comes from this. from somewhere inside of me. my heart, my head, my soul, my unconscious. something like that. this is an excerpt of a journal entry i wrote a few months ago, and i think these parts capture my idea of a muse best.
"i feel the heaviness of it deep within my soul, and i feel the darkness of it. it's never going to be light and pretty, it's the way my inspiration works. heavy and dark. it's brand new. i want to BE brand new's lyrics. i want to belong to jesse lacey's words. i want them to flow through me and be a part of me. it's that certain music that gives me that feeling. what feeling? i don't know. just THAT feeling. it's also death cab, sufjan stevens, we the living, kings of leon, sigur ros, band of horses, thrice, third eye blind, damien rice. it's brothers on a hotel bed, john wayne gacy jr., demons, western front, volcano, motorcycle drive by, god of wine, losing a whole year, no one's gonna love you, volcano, rootless tree. and most of all a song for milly michaelson. in one song, it's a song for milly michaelson. what do these songs all have on common? i don't know. it's running on the cold, dark beach in a dress, long hair flowing behind me, and it's early in the morning with the sun just rising. even though i hate the cold. and even though i hate the early morning. or it's at dusk with the sun just setting. it's only partial light. or it's a lovely spring day. spring specifically; with so much potential in the air for unknown things to bloom into unknown beauty. it's innocence, but tainted. it's splashing in those cold waves on the beach, tasting the frothy salt on my lips. laying down on the damp sand and letting warm tears slip from the corners of my eyes. so much heaviness that i have supressed. so much hurt that lies deep within my heart. it's being alone even though i hate it. and it's being in emotional distress even though i hurt from it. and it's longing for a perfect lover, but not wanting that longing to come true. because that is precisely what drives my fingers to scratch pen across paper. and that pain is precisely what drives me, what stirs my innermost being, what stirs my soul, what fills my heart and gives me the clearest picture of how to put these thoughts and feelings into words. these are the things that put words in my mouth. why is it always pain that drives me wild?"
i hope that paints the slightest bit of a picture of what drives me. that's my muse. i don't have a name or a word for it. but that paragraph is it. and that paragraph continues to grow, but in essence, there it is. if you have insight, please i BEG of you enlighten me. i would love to have a different perspective.
i leave you with a beautiful and thought-provoking quote to ponder, courtesy of charles simic.
"what makes the act of composition so complex is this mixture of deliberate and involuntary? one is continually torn between the desire to yield and the desire to assert oneself. the peculiar intensity and weight words have in a good poem are probably due to this split, and the turmoil it causes in the psyche. in any case, the great wish is to make room, to let the spirit of the occasion manifest itself. a poem which would be a threshold between two immensities where the poet is simply the ceremonial doorman."
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