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I Alone  

Just felt like sharing this tonight....

Guest appearances and co-hosts
Love and loss and letting go
Casting shadows and becoming ghosts
I alone remain, forever changed

Touched by the pale lights
Even as they fade
Eternally grateful through the tears and the pain
I alone remain, forever changed

The prophets stage calls the strong willed
Silent applause echoes through the hall of souls
Mystics make their way
Angels praise ignites the flame
Divine inspiration follows....

We are greater together than we are apart
I alone remain, here on the stage
Forever changed...

Gestalt 101: "But What Does It Sound Like?" 

Gestalt 101:  "But What Does It Sound Like?"  (CLICK HERE TO LISTEN)

"What kind of music do you write?" he asked.

I paused briefly considering the songs in my catalog, the lyrics in my book, the notes in my head, all songs past, present and future.

 "Well" I said, "it really depends on the song."  

This reply clearly didn't satisfy him, but through no fault of his own.  As human beings, our brains are naturally wired to organize information into categories so that we're not overwhelmed by life's many details (Gestalt 101).  

In fact, by insisting that you can not be categorized, (as artists so often do), you effectively banish yourself to the farthest reaches of fragmented gray matter in a persons brain, completely disconnected from any larger construct that a potential supporter can reference at a later time.  Personally, I prefer not to do that, but admittedly I find it more difficult to navigate this question as a writer / producer than as an artist. 

"But what does it sound like?" he asked.  I replied in the best way I knew how.  "When I write a song, it starts with a feeling or experience that preoccupies my mental space until it finally speaks to me in lyrics and melody.  Then, it's my job to figure out how to bring that song to life in my studio.  I'm a songwriter, so the genre is less important to me than the song itself."  

He nodded as he silently shuffled through his cerebral storage files.  I continued, "but when I write with the intention of performing a song myself, it's usually dark melodic driving power pop or rock with an electronic vibe...."

His eyes lit up.  Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.  He found a category for me.  And before I could pipe in with a few artists he might know, like Muse, Christina Perri, Garbage, or Paramore, he triumphantly blurted out, "Like when a DJ collaborates with a rock band or a pop singer?  Like Zedd, or Skrillex or..."  

"Something like that."  I smiled.  I guess that's as good a category to be in as any other, and it certainly beats getting lost in the gray matter.  It's less important that he files me in exactly the right place, and more important that he files me somewhere he can find me later.  




Reflecting on the events of last night, I'm asking myself why I opted for karaoke and cocktails at a local bar rather than making my way home to the comfy creative haven I adore...disappointment?  

Not that I didn't enjoy the social outing, but exploring the conditions that lead to that decision gives me some pause for concern., in a moment of weakness perhaps I felt the attention would be comforting.  Of course, in the end I justified it by handing out a few business cards and having some cool coversation with a few potential fans or friends...and, yes, the attention was a perfect distraction, but all in all probably not my best demonstration of responsible decision making.  I should know better by now...freeeezing cold late night...foggy headed morning.  I remember this feeling, but haven't had it in a long time...
Then the twilight were laying in bed with me kissing me and telling me to wake up...that you had to leave soon.  I was confused...How did you get in? What time is it?  When did you get here?...and then I said "This isn't real".  You told me again that you had to leave soon, and you wanted me to show you the rest of my place so I did. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my now deceased kitty very much alive laying on the counter.  I went over to snuggle him thinking to myself that I had been neglecting him, but then I remembered he wasn't alive anymore...Which kitty was this? He looked like the first one I ever had...the one that found me watching the sunset from the hood of my boyfriends car...the one that died in the fire...

My grandmother is in the hospital after an "episode" last week...she's on her way to a rehab and recovery center and should return home in a couple of weeks, but we fear this episode may have taken a piece of the mental acuity she so amazingly managed to retain.  She reads the dictionary, plays bridge, collects stamps, and will kick your ass at Jeopardy, but in the hospital recently she played a sweet game of peek-a-boo and catch with my sister...reversion...regression...gradual dismantling of the neural pathways that remind us where we've been in this lifetime...nature's way of making the eventual exit less difficult?  

And in the same moment, I'm f_(#!^% fortunate!  Life contiues to unfold in amazing ways and the puzzle pieces fill themselves in affirming my core belief that the key to a life well lived lies in finding your unique talents, building your life around them, and using them to help others. Still, the winds blow around me...around all of us...always...spinning, spinning, spinning,...a whirlwind of emotion and activity.  I stay centered, focused, healthy, and clear most of the time by insulating myself from too many random variables.  I often think of sharing this insulated space with someone who feels the same way, but am unsure if its even possible or realistic. Maybe the beauty is in the solitude itself ...
I told myself I that I wouldn't share these random thoughts with people in my life unless they asked, and yet I still have the urge to externalize them. I suppose a "semi-private" blog is as good a place as any to download my mental contents ;)