Ever Feel . . .

. . . like it’s just time to use fewer words? I have. And I’m there today. Was there yesterday and. And. But I write long essays. It’s not the same. Totally different structure.

Blogs are supposed to have daily posts or close to it and. And whatever. I’m going through some profound shifts internally. Not that there was none before, but a sobriety supreme has taken me down, a quiet pregnant. All I can do is share some of the music nurturing me along this trail.

Enjoy . . . The Thinker, The Naked Piano.

photo courtesy of dave grant
photo courtesy of dave grant

Now That We’ve Found Love . . .

I like this song. In fact, I like every remix and version of it.

Meanwhile, I rest. My blog languishes. My workload is beyond belief. And I believe it.

Know what happens when you haven’t had to work any mathematical equations beyond percentages and family budgets for over 20 years? You forget how to approach some data. You overlook things and then you realize at 11pm that your project for statistics is missing major components. And you made a C on your first test. And this is important to you even if you wind up having to drop the class from sheer exhaustion and start it over again another semester. You pull back, growl at your mind for not seeing a pivotal detail and you begin. Again.

And at 1:30 in the morning you realize you never converted from kilograms to pounds. So, you begin again. See, this profoundly alters the histogram and the infuriating box plot. The best news is that there is something alive in you, something you’ve not felt before when you’re working these charts and equations. Standard deviation? Coefficiency of variation? What’s next? I’m exhausted and pissed but there is this vibe that adores the opportunity to use these mental muscles. Hey, maybe I’ll like calculus. But it’s not on the docket for a psyche major!

By 2:20 in the a.m. when you go to stand up, your back gives out on you and you quickly become the narrator of your life, the “you” to whom you refer as you figure out how to get up steep steps to a charger for a cell whose battery is low and you realize it’s quite a simile. Um, I mean metaphor. Yeah, that’s it. Right? Oh hell. I’m lysdexic too! But I’m no cell phone…(why did I shift voice here?!)

Hey, even with screaming agonizing feet and a twisted lower back, life is good!

Nap time . . .

Vital Visual . . .

My world is in the spin cycle…my head hums with the pressure of so many things crammed and this song rolls through my morning…“all we are, we are…every day’s the start of something beautiful…” and it’s all true at once. And I can’t run from any of it. I only want to run just long enough to find my courage, the kind of courage that can juggle many issues roiling and find the meaning most powerful in the moment…where is it? What is it? It is love and honor and the most basic layers down under, under and under . . .

Be Careful...You Might Live
Be Careful...You Might Live
Sing me cryptic weird and
crammed full of stuff.
And there it is…
courage again.
Time to dive in…

“Some Of It’s Just Really Dumb . . . “

This song grabs at those parts of me unaffected by cynicism…

Apparently this is all I can muster after my first day at school. I think it’s telling. But I won’t tell.

Now, I’m in the spin cycle of homework and appreciation for use of my mind towards a goal more obviously tangible.

On with it . . .

When Free Falling, Play The Violin? Nah! Laugh . . .

I have to laugh everyday. It’s a must. All kinds of fun 28.6 (the waters going over the head) “no mistake!” adventure is erupting in my world and while I feel the peace (I do. It’s so weird.), while I feel even a bit of grief (not unusual, unfortunately), while I know it will be not merely okay but better in the long run (I know this down to my toes and sometimes it even makes me grin without help!) … oh  my  god … I need to LAUGH.

This did it.

Imagine…imagine the many one-man-bands joining forces, eh?

No Man’s Land . . .

High Plains Girl posted two great songs and sent me on a trail searching two of my favorite musicians hailing from Scotland (my roots): Eric Bogle and the group, Silly Wizard. I love how this one song expresses beautifully in two languages (German, my heritage too) a protest of war’s carnage and duplicity.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUzQ6Am-bbc

Silly Wizard…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbxZNlYXJgM

The appeal in these two songs rests in the powerful vocals and the raw realness of their lyrics.