My tongue is in my hand…

Archive for the ‘Music’ Category

1. Put Your iTunes or music player on shuffle

2. For the first 5 songs that come up, list the title and artist and explain why you have that song on your music player

3. For the next 5, list the title and artist and any memory, person, or other association you make when you hear the song

4. For the next 5 songs, list the title and artist and describe your favorite part of the song

5. List the last 5 songs you added

6. Tag whoever you want, so they can also have an excuse to randomly listen to and talk about 20 songs (because, really, who doesn’t want to do that?)

(First 5 and why):

1. ATLiens by Outkast.

Because I went to Northeast Middle School, and we knew how to throw our hands in the air and wave ’em like we just don’t care. No, really. This is probably the first Outkast song I heard and instantly loved it. It’s colder than a polar bears toenails :p

2. ( If you’re wondering if I want you to) I want you to by Weezer.

Because this song makes me happy.

3. Travel is stressful by Harvard.

I bought the whole album sometime last year and even though this song is fairly short (and wordless), and I maybe wouldn’t have bought it if I were only buying specific songs, I really like it and obviously like the band as a whole, or I wouldn’t have bought the album). It transitions throughout (so it keeps you interested) and is good to write to.

4.The Mixed Tape by Jack’s Mannequin.

I don’t know, I looked up Jack’s Mannequin, listened to some songs and this one stood out. It does make me think of One Tree Hill for some reason, but I swear that’s not why I like it. Probably.

5. Fullfill the Dream by Minus the Bear.

It just grabbed me, and I took it. For some reason, I skip it a lot when it comes on, but when I sit and listen to it (like now) I remember how much I like it…

(Next 5 and memory/association)

6. O-O-H Child by The Five Stairsteps.

I love this song so much. It makes me think of my childhood, because my mom always had it on the oldie’s station in the car. It makes me happy. And kind of makes me want to sway and clap. And makes me feel like I’m in a movie, where they are playing a music montage while the main character overcomes all their obstacles in 3 minutes. ha.

7. Deliverance by Sick Puppies.

This instantly makes me think of Amos’ Southend and Coor’s Light. And Jason and Amanda and Brian and Adam and Kim and Sonny. And my eardrums vibrating.

8. More than This by Matt Nathanson.

Honestly this makes me think of Sam Schipman. I think because she and I both posted on fb one time about wanting to see Matt Nathanson when he was in town. Hi Sam! Did you ever get to see him? I have not.

9. Small Town Saturday Night by Hal Ketchum.

First, I need to say this is one of my favorite songs to sing along to. I will play it over and over again just so I can keep singing it. It makes me think of the farm, of gravel roads and old pickup trucks and fields and sunshine and moonlight. And I was probably “Lucy” growing up. “Lipstick on a little too bright… just a kid along for the ride…”

10. .44 Caliber Love Letter by Alexisonfire.

This band  makes me think of David Turner. I don’t know why. David, did you like this band in high school? Maybe wear the shirt? Otherwise, it makes me think of driving. It’s a good driving song.

(And the next next 5 and favorite part)

11. Sailed Away by Saving Abel.

One thing I like is how it’s a little different speed than some of their other stuff. These lines are my favorite part. “Push so hard, you’ve got to know that, you might just get what you wanted. I found out on my own, just what I was missing”

12. Sick and Tired by Nappy Roots and Anthony Hamilton.

It’s hard to pick a favorite part here, I love the harmonica in the background, the group effort, the combined voice chorus “I’m tired of running and ducking when I hadn’t done nothing -Do something then”. “First you learn to maintain, then you relay the change”

13. Let it Go by Escape the Fate.

So, the chorus is really catchy, but my very favorite part is “I’m on the verge of a crackdown, I’m freaking out, got a bottle of Jack down”. His voice definitely sounds like he’s having a crackdown, and probably has a bottle of Jack down. For real. I like the wailing guitar too…who doesn’t?

14. Gotta have you by The Weepies.

The chorus is my favorite part, no doubt, because it’s true, it’s a pretty, easy to listen to song, but it’s true, and that’s why I love it. “No amount of coffee, no amount of crying, no amount of whiskey, no amount of wine no, no, no, no, no- nothing else will do, I’ve gotta have you.”

15. White Mystery by Minus the Bear

“Her body’s over the covers and there’s nothing wrong with a single inch”. Don’t we all want someone to tell us that? There’s more I could say, about how the music fits the title, it feels, it sounds, like a White Mystery…but I don’t know how to further explain that…

(most recently added)

16. No Letting Go by Wayne Wonder

17. Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

18. Emergency by Paramore

19. Hit or Miss by New Found Glory

20. Lost in love by I-15

I cycle through depressive states regarding writing. Regarding the point of it. I always come back to this- the point of it is for me to cope. I know that. (but it doesn’t change my moodiness about the whole thing) It is, for as long as I remember, how I cope. The person I talk to to work things out in my head is myself, through writing. It’s a big part of a lot of growth and movement personally, spiritually.

At the same time, I address all the world around me, through writing, whether they read it or not. But that’s where the depressing part comes in, particularly with poetry. No one really gives a shit about poetry, except maybe, for poets. But I don’t even really like reading other people’s poetry, so how can I think anyone wants to read mine? Maybe it’s like how some musicians can’t stomach certain “mass manufactured” music. But I am not, as an artist, a musician, so I don’t see it and can still enjoy it…

I’m digressing. The poetry thing…it’s just so pointless. Except when it’s not. When  a poem is pressing it’s way out of my pores, it matters so much. But then…what? There are journals and contests and other avenues to share poems and possibly be recognized as a talented writer, but it’s so annoying because they care so much about poetic stuff and I just write. I write and write and write. And yes, I have some dedicated persons who consistently lift me up and assure me that my writing matters to them…why can’t that be enough??

I feel like I’m hungry for something that I’m not even sure I want. I don’t crave a million people telling me my poems matter. I just want this select group that quite obviously just does not care. Why? Why is that?

That’s part of the reason I started the poetry art collaborative experiment, to try and do something with the poetry, to try and connect it to others (and maybe find that I don’t need that certain group… maybe I could make my own group…a group that does something with the poetry besides tell me it’s “good”, which is nice and I appreciate, but it leaves me hungering for more…). But that’s been quite a slow (discouraging) start. I’ m on hiatus from it (although I doubt anyone’s noticed!) and I don’t want to be a quitter so early into the project, but it seems a bit silly to keep at it.

Oh well, I have a couple more weeks, my mood will quite possibly be more positive then.

I just want my poetry to be part of something, like music is. You can write a song that becomes part of the world, part of society, part of memories and conversations…it’s a backdrop for a million different moments…what the hell does a poem do? Not a damn thing really. So annoying. If I weren’t so innately a poet, I would just stop. But I can’t. It’s part of me, if nothing else.

As soon as I heard this song, the first lines, I felt that this was a prayer I’ve had as well. Bonus that her vocal delivery is beautiful, throaty, soulful.

Have Your Way Lyrics by Britt Nicole

Feels like I’ve been here forever,
Why can’t you just intervene?
Do you see the tears keep falling?
And I’m falling apart at the seams.
You never said the road would be easy,
But you said that you would never leave.
And you never promised that this life wasn’t hard,
But you promised you’d take care of me.

So I’ll stop searching for the answers,
I’ll stop praying for an escape,
And I’ll trust you, God, with where I am,
And believe that you will have your way.
Just have your way.
Just have your way.

When my friends and my family have left me,
And I feel so ashamed and so cold.
Remind me that you take broken things
And turn them into beautiful.

So I’ll stop searching for the answers,
I’ll stop praying for an escape,
And I’ll trust you, God, with where I am,
And believe that you’ll have your way.
Just have your way.
Just have your way.

Even if my dreams have died,
And even if I don’t survive,
I’ll still worship you with all my life.
My life.

And I’ll stop searching for the answers,
I’ll stop praying for an escape,
And I’ll trust you, God, with where I am,
And believe that you will have your way.
Just have your way.
Just have your way.

I know you will.
I won’t forget.
You love me.
Have your way.

The only line that I think could use some work is “Even if my dreams have died, And even if I don’t survive” It seems like that was a case of “hey, this rhymes!” I get how it could work, but I think something like “Even if some of my dreams die, your dreams for me survive and ….” I don’t know, something like that.

Anyways, I’ve been listening to this non stop. I have been weary lately. Overwhelmed. Not sure of what to do, tired out from trying. Listening to this song over and over is like a chant, a meditation. God is so different than us, God’s ways are not our own.

The way our societies are constructed does not necessarily coincide with the vision of God. Yet God knows us, loves us, designed us, and in love allows us to choose, to explore, to test, to journey, to discover, and to decide for ourselves. God allows us the dignity of self, of decision, of failure, and redemption. So many take the hard parts of life as an argument against a loving God, or against God at all. But, I don’t. I think it’s all in how we look at it.  As I’ve established before, I have to believe. I would not live if I didn’t. There would literally be no motivation for me if I didn’t believe this was part of something ultimately beautiful.

So I say, letting God have God’s way with me lets me see a little more from a different perspective, from a supernatural eye.  In this, God knows exactly what we need when we need it, the ultimate needs of our soul, no matter how that looks in the material. In this, I’m high on this supernatural experience, living beyond the world even while in it. I come down from the high and experience more, take it to God and talk it out, fight it out. I get high, and come back down, adjusted eyes…everytime a little different. It’s a pilgrimage. God is every where. In things we find ugly as well as things we find desirable. God is not limited to our sight, our perspective. But our relationship, communion, interaction with God is limited by our perspective, by our willingness to accept or believe certain things, or to even entertain certain things that are foriegn to us. I think that’s why broken is beneficial. Broken is open. Open is free to explore, adjust, and believe.

Adjust my vision Lord, calm my heart when it worries, move spirit move. Beautiful Artist, Parent, Lover of my soul. I’m still working on full out belief. On remembering there is an ultimate art to life, to existence, that everything is part of the big big picture, everything. So everything really is okay. I’m day to day with this. Minute to minute. Praise the being that loves me in every movement I have and ever will make before I ever moved. Praise You who promises always, your hands, your hope.

I love You. And it’s true that it’s because you loved me first. It’s the only way I’d ever really know.

This is what I wrote down, word for word, during a sermon. That’s why it may or may not make sense. I just wanted it recorded, mainly for myself, (but also for anyone who likes to read my streams of consciousness…:) there’s some things I want to revisit.

Magnification, magnificence.

Clear eyes:

all the colors



of light.

Vessel. Love Life, Be Brave. Time- precious, peace, patience, courage, Free. Hymn, Piano, Puritan. Native, Pilgrim. Gypsy: Spiritualist. Bare Bones Belief. Tragedy vs. Comedy. Belly of the Whale. Joy is a choice. Unexpected deliverance, Truth. No fear, you have plenty of time here. Called apart. Everlasting arms. Catacombs. Three Days. Heart of the Earth, there is coming a day. Hope vs. Desperation. Crosses to wings. overwhelmed? pray. No guilt. Everything has meaning. Quotable lyrics. Music. What have I to fear or dread? My life is in you. Cemetery, history. You can’t screw this up. Everything is as it should be. Get there. You will get there, God will get you there, one way or another. It’s not enough if just I’m okay. Vessel.

Love, Joy, Peace; Wisdom, Clarity, Courage, Belief

Through various first hand sources, I have gathered entertaining information regarding the latest ministry efforts of two sister churches. Well, to be honest, they aren’t sister churches, they are a split off of one church, but they should be (could be!) sister churches, so I, because I can, will refer to them as such. I will refer to one as home base church (hbc), and one as grass roots church (grc). Those are my personal nicknames for them. You do not have to like them. You, in fact, do not have to read this at all 🙂

So, home base church had Vacation Bible School (VBS) this week. In case, unlike me, you do not live in the Bible Belt and have no idea what VBS is, it’s basically Sunday School on Prozac. If you don’t know what Sunday School is, you should just use context clues. It’s like school, on Sunday…and it’s at church, so it’s about church, the Bible, etc.

I’ll tell you right now that the selling points of VBS are whatever theme-based decorations, snacks, and songs you have. This year’s theme for HBC was a camping one, and the set up was awesome. A lot of effort was made- and it shows. The sanctuary stage really looked like a mountain campsite. Good job guys! The snacks were also awesome (so I’ve been told), and the music had “music videos” with kids doing the dance moves (which all the kids 7+ seemed to really enjoy and try to emulate).

Their adventure happened Tuesday night (night 3) when during a thunderstorm, the power went out and stayed out leaving all the kids (including toddlers and babies) and however many adults, to make their way by cell phone light for the next 45 min or so, waiting for parents to pick up the kids. Too bad they gave out mini flashlights for all the “campers” to take home the night before! It’s been reported that some campers had to leave their pizza rolls in mid-bite due to the power outage, and the pastor’s son apparently RE-FUSED to abandon his goldfish snack. No sir, he said. I believe grandpa had to step in. After the screaming subsided, there was apparently an impressive sing-a-long. You can’t keep a good VBS down.

Tonight was the wrap up, where all the campers got to show off for mom/dad/grandma/grandpa, etc. My personal favorite things were: a certain child who rolled around and I think, did flips on stage while everyone else tried hard to sing and follow the motions, a certain other child who was so completely hyped up about performance that when there were not set motions, he was throwing punches in the air and jumping around like he was about to kickbox (watch out devil, he’s ready to rumble!), and a certain teenager, who I know of as an outdoorsman, who had been helping out and apparently knew all the motions and dance moves and stood by the stage demonstrating for the kids. When I asked him about this later, he confessed that it was his secret talent. Looks like the cat’s out of the bag now! Don’t you think So You Think You Can Dance could use an outdoorsy guy? 😉

Grass Roots Church had and outreach project this week (Wednesday night). In preparation for this event, my oldest friend reported that she was attacked by fire ants while putting out flyers in the community, to which she said: “Are you freakin’ kidding me? I’m doing God’s work here!” The fact that she talks to ants that bite her is one of the very things I love so dearly about her J

So, the project was to go into a nearby community that is very needy and pass out nonperishables and a hotdog meal. The flyers that my dear friend sacrificed her little flip flopped feat for were apparently blown away (probably in the same storm that knocked out HBC’s power). So, no one knew they were coming. It was reported that an inebriated fellow told them quite colorfully to remove themselves from the premises upon which they stood. He apparently did this with enough vigor for one mom to put her kids away in the car…Yay! Jesus loves you!

Also, a man I know of as a Sunday School Teacher and Deacon apparently was packing some heat, just in case. This is all well and good, but I can’t for the life of me imagine him pulling a weapon, ever, for any circumstances. Now, I could see him frying you up some eggs and bacon at an all church breakfast, and reciting some Max Lucado, but brandishing a weapon? Hard to imagine.  I suppose he has a secret side of him as well J

The outreach turned out just fine, around 60 hotdog meals were given out, with some people coming back for 2nds and 3rds. I’m assuming much of the nonperishables found good homes as well. This is one of many out in the community-free food-no strings attached events/outreaches that this group has done in this community and I hope it’s getting the point across…love. There is love, big love, God’s love.

In keeping with that train of thought, back to HBC. I’ve got to say, watching the kids up there on stage made me think of what a good thing it is, to get in front of a bunch of people and know that even if you roll around, miss your cue, kickbox, or even get it just right, you are loved, praised, and embraced just the same. Because that’s love. That’s God’s love.

And that’s what both churches are doing their best to do, within their communities, and in their own ways- love.

One thing though, HBC: I get that pixie sticks are cheap and stuff, but really? Goodie bags with sugar sticks? I guess that’s what we get for letting you take the kids 5 nights in a row 😉

UPDATE: You know what the end of VBS treats were at GRC? A massive pixie stick.

Oh yea, God has a sense of humor.

I hate to sound bitchy or like I think I’m above others, but sometimes it really amazes me how dumb people are, in general, as a whole. Why? Why can I go through a whole day and feel like the smartest person I’ve encountered? To be perfectly honest, it’s tiring. Annoying. My family is tiring, annoying. I am so sick of miserable people. Goddamnit. Even when I’m upset I’m not as miserable as these people. Good Lord help me. I crave certain people, certain conversations…Oh My God Cheetos are good. And so is this $2.97 Merlot. And the Eminem I’m listening to…I’m so super classy tonight. Now what was I going to say before I got distracted by Cheetos? Oh yea, miserable people. Needy people. Shut the fuck up with your whining. I am not inclined to feel bad for you or really give a shit, considering you are ALWAYS  miserable. Just stop. I mean really, if it’s so bad just go ahead a kill yourself already, you know? What’s the point? If everything is as horrible as you say, just give up! That’s why I have to be an optimist. I would most definitely kill myself if I weren’t. Or at the very least be a drug addicted whore. I mean really, if there’s no hope, nothing good, no promise, then WHY THE HELL DID YOU EVEN GET UP THIS MORNING? Why do you continue feeding yourself? Why did you get dressed? Seriously, what are you doing still living if it’s all gone to hell with no hope for redemption? And I’m not saying I think people should commit suicide. I’m saying people should just shut up when they are whining for the 10th year in a row. I mean, I know everyone’s got to whine. What am I doing right now? Everyone worries, everyone vents. But I mean, there should be a limit on it. Or at least crack a joke while you act miserable. It will make me want to kick you in the face just a little less.

I’m getting sad because the cheetos are almost gone. : (. Swizz Beats is on now, I made a hiphop playlist today. Now what was I saying? Oh yea, kicking. I have a kick list. I started this list when I started finding out about all these shitty people that people that I’m helping at work have had to deal with. If you’re on the kick list, it means should I ever see you, I will most likely kick you immediately. I’m too nice to have a shit list. I don’t say shit unless there are extreme circumstances. And besides, what’s a shit list do? A kick list is very specific. If you’re on the kick list, you’re getting kicked. MAN I just ate the last Cheeto. Damnit. They were good.

I just spilled wine everywhere. It got on the wall. Oops. I think I cleaned it up good enough. I defintely giggled.  Jason will surely see it and bitch about it. Because he is like a woman who bitches about stupid shit that no one really cares about. Or perhaps, just things I do not care about. The thing is, there is only so much room inside me to really care about things. And it’s never gonna stupid stuff, because as I pointed out earlier. I’m not stupid. I mean, really, there are other things you could criticize me with: disorganized, distracted, late,  unhealthy, unpolished, undisciplined, etc, but I’m not stupid. I know that for sure.

I’m eating Doritos now, they are not as good as the Cheetos, they are a little stale, but they are serving their purpose. I like to eat when I drink. It completes the experience for me. And Cee-Lo is on now. I do love his voice. I love rap. Rap is great for a poet to listen to. I love the things that flow, that rhyme. Sure, sometimes it’s dumb, but sometimes is is just so freaking incredible. And I just appreciate the flow, the attitude, the honesty, the rhythm.

I’m getting sleepy now. Still have 1/2 a glass left though, so I’m finishing it. You know what I don’t understand? How people can keep being dumb. Do you think that people know they are dumb and just don’t care? Or don’t they know? That would be sad I guess, either way. This song makes me think of middle school (In Due Time, from the Soul Food soundtrack, OutKast feat. Cee-Lo). Middle school wasn’t bad. No school was bad for me. But middle school was actually great. Because you’re able to do stuff, but you have NO responsibilty and are years from it. What good years, 13, 14,  15.  15 was high school, but freshman year…

I’m going in for one more glass of wine. It’s so easy to not care about a hangover when you’re 3 glasses in….I have also moved on to dark chocolate chips (there weren’t very many doritos left…) I do believe I just moved up in classiness for snack food. I know not everyone needs so much time alone, so I really try to just not make a big deal about it, and try to spend time with Natalie and Jason, but OH MY it drives me crazy sometimes. You know, at one point, Jason worked nights and Natalie didn’t talk yet…I of course am glad that Natalie is talking now…not so glad that Jason doesn’t have a job, but you know, no one is happy about that kind of thing…It’s just so weird, I crave certain interactions all day (and don’t always get them), but then other interactions are so damn trying on my nerves and niceness. I just want to say ‘LEAVE ME ALONE. JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE, DAMNIT!”. Of course that’s not really very “family” oriented. I’m sure it doesn’t help that my family was very partitioned emotionally, I was almost always able to keep to myself when ever I wanted, for how ever long I wanted. And I was very social, very involved in things outside of the home, but when I wanted to be alone, I could be. I didn’t spend a lot of time being around my family for no particular reason (like meals or holidays).

Alright, I do believe I am drunk enough to stop typing. It’s a good place to be tonight.

Why does it always feel like starting is the hard part? I guess that’s true for a lot of things. Anyways, what is it I’m wanting to say right now? Something about this music and wine and blackberry incense. I think, if we really look close enough at the things we surround ourselves with, we will see people in all of them. There’s a person in the bottle of wine, someone in the incense, someone in the music. There’s a person in this laptop. The people that affect us affect us in so many ways.

I just walked outside to get my laptop from the car. I love the sticky air of North Carolina. Granted, other places have sticky air, but it’s not the same as North Carolina’s; can’t be. I was driving with the windows down the other day, trying to figure out the words that go with the air. How would you describe the weight of it? The cool thickness of it when you drive between the old, tall trees and the overgrown honeysuckle of a back road right before the sun sets? What are the words for that?

I got the CD I’m listening to right now in the mail today. The Royal Greens. I ordered it online, via their myspace. The package had my address handwritten and I remembered how much you see in handwriting. I forgot about that. I forgot about writing and reading handwritten letters. There’s something so much more intimate about that. I miss that. I’ve been trying to think of someone to write ever since. Someone who could and would write me back, on paper. It’s a lot harder than it used to be. Not that I don’t have the friends. I’ve got a beautiful combination of friends, absolutely. There doesn’t seem much need for letters between us. Of course, I think we say things in letters that we wouldn’t say otherwise, even on email. So, I could try…

That handwriting was a little ghost-like. Not the actual writing, just the shape of the letters, looked like something I’d seen before, something that made my heart crash around before. Or still. You know how it is with things like that.

It’s funny, the things I think about needing to write on during the days, when I sit down to do it, so much of it seems pointless.

This was in “news of the weird” in Creative Loafing for this week (March 18-24)

“This adds an extra dimension people will appreciate.” said Hobart, Australia Mayor Rob Valentine in December, announcing that at the annual Taste Festival later that month, performance artists would entertain in the restrooms. According to Valentine, the performers would also supply soap and towels and would “recite [a] favorite poem, or tell…a story” while concert goers “used the facilities.”

This has made me laugh over and over today. Just picture it.

First of all, it’s ridiculous. Who wants to perform in a bathroom? And, who wants someone to read them a poem while they are in the bathroom? What kind of performer would take that kind of gig?

Sam, you would be at an advantage here 😉

My high school chorus teacher just joined facebook and I think I have been more excited about that than I have about anyone else I have seen on there. Mr. Boyce is a key player in not only one of the significant parts of my life, but also in the significant parts of so many other people’s lives.

It’s because of the way chorus was not just a class, but a group, a privilege, a family. Sure, there were some kids who just kind of ended up in concert choir every once in a while because it showed up on their schedule, but most of the people chose to be in choir. Many of us chose to be in choir as many periods out of the day as we were allowed. I think I took two chorus classes a year 10-12th grades. (So that means I sang a good amount of material more than once 🙂

The thing is, choral music matters to Mr. Boyce. And we mattered to Mr. Boyce. And Mr. Boyce had a way about him that let us know that while he would tolerate all our high school silliness to a certain degree, he was not really interested in his students not being interested in choral music. Mr. Boyce made it matter to us.

Mr. Boyce had little eccentricities that made him funny, firmness that made him respected, and genuine interest in your well being that made him someone you wanted to keep spending time in class with. Mr. Boyce worked every way he could to help us sing well and to get us to want to sing well. We buzzed our lips and repeated tongue twisters and made hand gestures to mimic sounds and laid in the dark all in the name of good diction, harmonies, and general musicianship. We sang Latin. We sang Oldies. We sang Zulu. We sang Christmas Carols. Sometimes we had to sway. Sometimes someone dressed up like Rudolph. Sometimes we wore beach clothes and sunglasses. Being part of chorus was being part of something. Former students came back to visit on a regular basis. We competed and took trips and bought videos of performances and had chorus t-shirts. Mr. Boyce read us essays of past student’s testaments to let us know, hey, this is a good thing, you better recognize it!

Being part of Patriot Singers was an honor, but I was most attached to Advanced Women’s Ensemble. Maybe because I was in it three years. We did so much more than sing. We had a lock in, a bake sale, t-shirts, breakfasts, secret santa and a decorated ficus tree, fast food hang outs after school, and gave out awards at the end of the year (we came up with one for everyone). It was fun and even though it wasn’t the whole class doing those things, those things were there, making us more than a class. More than that, there were a lot of hugs and tears and friendships, and some drama (I mean, it was a class of high school girls…) and we had competitions, that meant ROAD TRIPS. I remember cramming like 5 of us into a phone booth in Virginia beach for like an hour because we were cold (and crazy?)

Mr. Boyce laid the foundation for the legacy that was choir at Independence. No one outside of choir may have gave a crap about it, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is the way it shaped those of us who did. Those of us who were moved by making music, by creating with our classmates a sound that was bigger than any of us individually, by being lifted away from our individual concerns and focuses and pulled into a song, if only for the span of a class period at a time, even a song at a time. Making music with others is a powerful thing, it moves something in you, shapes something new.

Mr. Boyce cultivated this place for us, and told us he was doing so. It wasn’t a big secret that he was pulling us into the music, he insisted upon it. And that’s why it happened. And that’s why he had former students come back to school during performances so they could walk up to the the risers and sing “The Lord Bless You and Keep You”. Because choral music matters to Mr. Boyce. And we matter to Mr. Boyce. So choral music, and Mr. Boyce, matter very much to us.

It’s been a good night. Enchilada casserole, cake batter and wine (for me) with Nat while watching Beethoven’s 5th…just nice…

but then I get overwhelmed, tired, there are a million things to do and I just want to sleep but then I’m afraid the things will never get done…I just have good, organized, productive times followed by disorganized, anxious, confused, overwhelmed times, I want something I can’t have so I guess I’m going to bed. Leave everything as it is. I want to stop that, I just can’t tonight.

It’s like I get really foggy and there’s no room to think and I feel unsure of what to do next, so I kind of don’t do anything. I don’t understand. it did not used to be like that.

I can’t figure out if something broke, something changed, or it’s just the progression of life, of growing up, of learning.

I feel awkward parameters…I want out, I don’t fit, it doesn’t work like this.

I think, sometimes, it’s just pushing through the fog that gets you there.