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i’m sorry

shut up.  i know i haven’t written in a long time.  too much life to try and cram into a blog post.  someday soon you’ll know where i am, but for now, keep on imagining…

 

love.

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i don’t even know who reads this anymore.  to be honest, i haven’t logged in in months, so i won’t hold it against any of my formerly dedicated readers (not that i had any to begin with…) who couldn’t stick it out through my dry spell – i can’t expect you all to wait for me, you have to move on, grow up.

oh well. i guess a one-sided conversation is better than no conversation at all, right? and with that being said, let the conversation begin…

a few months ago, i came to the realization that i wasn’t motivated to write anymore. no longer was i trekking through europe or costa rica, nor was i experiencing any life altering challenges such as moving or wild fires. simply put, my life was normal, calm, boring; and i was okay with that.  life was/is good, and easy, so why complain? however, i need to write.  i may not be a writer, per se, but in the last few years, i have come to realize how much writing encourages my thought process and more than that, i discovered that i really enjoyed it! so, thanks to a subliminal suggestion from my friend michele, i bought a box, an autobiography box.

the autobiography box is for those writers seeking a direction, or guideline, to lead them along on their author’s journey.  each box is full of a hundred or so (maybe more) cards, all of which, have a small writing activity on them.  it’s purpose is to encourage the writer to step outside the confines of the standard autobiography – a timeline of one’s life – and, in the stead of said timeline, make more of an effort on bringing out individual aspects/events/characteristics of one’s life, which in the end, will produce a much more creative and interesting piece of writing, something that others might even want to read.

this having been said, i am now embarking on new and exciting journey, with my box.  my plan is to perform one writing activity per day, and go from there.  i am both excited and a bit frightful of what the end results might be; for, it is more often the case than not, that my faults are portrayed in my writings and my triumphs left unmentioned.  however, i am encouraged by the fact that i will not be doing this alone.  you will be with me, whoever’s out there reading this, the whole time.  i cannot make promises for daily posts and updates, but i give my word that you will not be left in the dark as i travel, once again, down the writer’s path.  i am looking forward to this adventure, and i hope you are as well.  peace be the journey, and here we go!

…And as we were eating, filling our stomachs with a sort of Resurrection Jambalaya, the swarm approached.  Have you ever seen a swarm of bees?  It could quite possibly be one of the most impressive displays power in numbers  ever witnessed on this Earth.  Suddenly the yard on the side of the house and the ravine behind were filled with a thickness of yellow and black – worker bees, no doubt, on a mission to find a new hive.  Thousands upon thousands, they came, swirling in the air around the trees and the house.  As visions of swollen bee stings passed through my head -memories of pain, and throbbing – I couldn’t help but feel somewhat relaxed in the awesome presence of my swarn insect enemy.  Despite the evident discord of their frantic flight patterns through the air, there was something soothing about the whole experience.  I felt the humm and buzz of a thousand bees resonate inside of me.  I could hear them and feel them.  It was as if they were communicating with me.  My pulse dropped, and I calmly stood there watched as the bees became one body, moving together in an almost synchronized motion, like a school of fish or a cloud of smoke.  Then slowly, the buzzing died down, and the humming ceased, and just as quickly as they had come, the swarm of bees disappeared into the trees and the flowers of the world around my house.  And they were gone.

So, with the thrill of the swarm now behind us, we picked up our guitars and mandolins, our plates and glasses, and continued with the days festivities.  For there is nothing that brings a family together like Easter, bees – Easter Bees – and Jamabalaya.  He is risen, indeed.  Alleluia!

I recently purchased a mandolin.  Actually, it was a mandolin/guitar combo ($99 from musician’s friend), so I got more bang (or twang) for my buck.  While they aren’t of the highest structured quality, over 350 online reviewers claim them to be worthy of a 4.5/5 star rating, so I figured it couldn’t be that bad of a deal.  You see, as of late I have had all of these urges to do various things, and because I am young, because I have nothing tying me down, and because I am able, I have tried my hardest to put these various aspirations, some loftier than others, into motion.  Starting a band was the first thing on my list, and purchasing the mando/guitar package was the first step towards checking it off.

Now let it be said, that by starting a band, I am in no way out for the glory and the fame; but rather, the music.  My band, the Family Band, as has been referred to amongst friends, is the means of getting together with anyone and any instrument and making music with no regards to skill level or ability – the idealist musician’s dream, or nightmare.  Obviously, the more talent people have, the better the music will be, but that’s not really the point.  With practice and experience, the talent will inevitably begin to show, but from the get go, the music will just be music, and it will be fun; it has been fun. That’s all that matters to me.

Maybe by referring to this as “starting a band” I am being misleading.  More than playing shows and recording albums, I just want music to be a part of my life again.  The thing is, I spent last four years studying music intensively.  At my freest moments, I was still in rehearsals 4 days a week and practicing even more often than that.  It was my life, and now suddenly, I realize that without school, without direction, it is a lot harder to stay focused.  As I approach the one-year mark of post-graduate life, I am realizing that music is no longer central in my life.  I haven’t played piano in months.  I sing fairly regularly, but I rarely actually mean it.  I listen to music often enough, but it’s more of a background thing – I never really just listen.  It’s so easy to walk through the steps of a day and not even really think about music.  Work is work, then I come home, watch TV or the roommates playing xbox360, and then go to bed.  Sounds like nothing, I know; but with all that free time, it’s easy to get lazy, to sit around and do nothing, to wander the facebook news feed aimlessly for an hour, or watch a re-run of seinfeld that I have seen a thousand times, or whatever, you get the picture.

This all needs to change.  I don’t like the pattern of musical laziness/apathy that I’ve fallen into.  That’s why I bought the mandolin.  That’s why the Family Band will happen.  I love music, and I want to make music.  So let’s do it.

goodnight moon.

Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep,

a moon beam crept its way onto my pillow.

This curious reflection,

sunlight bouncing off of our cosmic soul mate,

has visited before.

From my bed, I gaze up,

through the window,

enraptured by her celestial beauty,

with the hopes that somehow,

things will be alright.

Suddenly, I am numb,

a spell is cast over me.

I lay there, bathed in a  lunar baptism –

my many worries and concerns

cleansed and forgotten –

and the moon gently carries me,

with eyes weakening, pulse slowing.

Then, on the verge of consciousness,

the moon beam falls from my pillow

out of sight,

and I am left alone,

in peace and

asleep.

we are connected.

These days, it seems that people are closer than ever before.  Not necessarily in proximity, but within this strange, post-modern, virtual world, that even the greatest science fiction writers of the past could only dream of.  Forget letter writing and land line-ing, rotary phones and drop in visits.  Swap personal, face to face communication with superficial status updates and “tweets”.  We are all online.  The days of handshakes and hugs are gone.  The times, they are a changing, and like the rest of my generation, I’m going to blog about it.

Nearly a decade into the 21st century,  we have mastered the art of digital communication.  Continue Reading »

Every now and then, my housemates and I will sit down at the dinner table and dine together, like the make-shift family that we are.  Some of these dinners are planned days in advance, while others are more impromptu gatherings, sprung by the question, “Hey, what are you doing for dinner tonight?”  Generally, we all contribute something, whether it’s making a salad or providing a bottle of wine – you get the point.  However, occasionally one person decides to spoil the rest of us.  Last night, we were spoiled.

My roommate’s mom is famous for sending us these incredible meatballs that she gets from some top-secret, meat-of-the-month club membership.  She’ll also send tri-tip, carne asada, bbq chicken, and pretty much any other type of meat you can think of, but when the meatballs come, Continue Reading »