because theology told me so.

we blame the revolution
as something that disrupted
our social order
of perfection
of the white males design

if we really believe in freedom
if we really believe in love
than why are we questing over
power
the right belief
the right answer

i don't have time for the right truth

what i have time for
is creating beauty
stillness
love
hope
faith

because those are hard


those bring understanding
and paint brushes
glue sticks
glitter
and stickers in the shape of stars
and dancing

lots of dancing
and lots of joy
lots of life to be lived
without the constraints of

boundaries set up
with your ideals
and fence posts
with barbed fires
of the right ideas.

snip.

My hair was cut yesterday
There was something holding me down
and it was heavy

so we took some scissors
and let it go

with the hair
was the past
and the brokenness
and the expectations
and the fear

with the cut of the scissors i let it go

i let go of the stuff that suffocates
the fear that binds

as the strands fell to the floor
the weight felt like lone balloons
rising higher in the sky

i will mourn of the loss of time
and freedom I should have felt
but it is only life
as it is only hair.

monster parts

do you remember the cartoons
with the monsters that were fake
and you knew
because you could see the zipper

that's how i feel
not so much the monster
part
but the part with the zipper

the zipper is opening
and a new creation
is emerging.
shedding the old fur
and revealing something
new


but it's still so fresh

and the new is still yet to be unseen

because
i think the zipper is caught
on something
and I keep trying to jiggle it free
but it's stuck
and the polyester won't breathe.
and it's hot
and I just want to move on
get out of the monster

breathe

jiggle

breathe

jiggle

breathe

so tired.

Some days it is easier
than others
to fight the battles
inside your mind.

today I am tired
and the nagging voice
of pessimism
sounds so much louder
than the voice of
clarity.

and it's been distracting
and i don't know where the
day disappeared to.

and i wanted to be calm
but i was an ocean
of activity
and disruption
or maybe it was the knowledge
that nothing is getting done
and nothing is moving
forward
because i am
tired

and all i want to do
is nothing
but read your stories
and thoughts
and dreams
but that will not do
because there is theology
to be done.

wilco is right
theologians
they don't know nothing about my soul.

i hope i do.

wristcutters.

We won't get what we want until
it doesn't matter anymore.
Was expressed in a film.
but in my real life.
I talked about this idea over lunch.

how do we let go?
in a space where we are supposed
to have it all
and not trip over our failures
and have straight A's
while having children
and being married by the age of 22

I don't have that
but what i have is
a sense
of what is to become.

an idea that is whole
rather than fragmented
all those desires need to be trumped
with a smile and possibility
when my eyes open
to the sun arousing me
in the morning

and when the sunsets
i am there to remind you
that you will be okay
and that life happened
while you ran around today
fufilling your dreams

you have to let it
go
to a place
where your hands are free.

2+2=2+2=2+2

These feelings are being tucked away
the feeling that you are about to puke
or cower under your covers

how can a three minute interaction
be so damaging
how can a phone call disrupt
a smile
or a laugh
how can it hold you in a holding pattern?

how long can I run in circles?
i am tired.
for so many reasons
and this being on repeat isn't
making it any easier.

i want to break out of these cycles
can you find me?
can you pick me up?
and steal my records
so that i might not hear this
one more time
or at least feel like i could listen to
something else
that i haven't heard before

but i can't
just like so much of my life
i found the holes in the snow
and following that path
rather than creating a new one

the sweater is getting a little to tight
and i am tired of it smelling
like yesterday
and the yesterday before this one.
can you find me?
so I can start new patterns?
i am running pretty thin.

lay with me awhile.

It's like every few weeks I have the need
to purge
my things.
tidy up the space.
receive a clean head
and a clean heart.



I stay here most of my days.
when i am not tamping grounds.
or taking notes.
or watching someone elses children.

i usually like to create here.
with my head on my pillows.
and my bck up against the wall.
the window provides a vision of what is out there
and i have the chance to close the blinds and believe
that there is something else out there.

i like this space.
so much that i have called it home.
unpacked all the boxes.
set up shop.



i have laid my guard down.
because it is just to heavy to carry.
and this is something i can do.

white couch tunes.

For so long I have hid form myself.
I thought I knew what I wanted.
but what I was living was so much different.

the actions were not my words.

but the switch flipped.
and redemption came. is coming. come.

the fear turned into solace.
and solace into music.
and beers on the porch
with smoke billowing in the wind.

i was forced to live in the moment.
i had to swallow my fear.
and your fear.

and I stepped across the line from fear and doubt
into light and love and possibilities.
love for myself.
and doors opening.
and hope billowing.

the boredom is the moments of breath.
being breathed.
in between obligations.



i will no longer hold on to the breath.
and i will no longer sit in the fear.
and the trepidation.
i have nothing to lose because I have lost it all.

and songs will now pour forth.
and inspiration will be hearing
the same song in new ways.
because I wasn't supposed to hear them this way
until now.

i just can't be a hired hand.

I woke up this morning.
reluctantly.
because I hit snooze at least ten times.

and then i faced life.
that was not my own.
and it was something that I believed in so highly.

what is the impact of music?
he asked.
and why do we keep doing it?

I respond with
how has capitalism taken away our ability to fight?
and to be creative?
it is so easy to say be like me
than it is to turn to our right and be like them

what is the point of music anymore?
are our ideas just a commodity?
will we rise up and make a noise
above the problems of dollars.

could we not be creative?
to think of new ideas
of how we use what we have
and recreate our garbage.
and have a song that is more meaningful than
being a sk8r boy
or an umbrella.

i hope we keep finding meaning.
and creating music
that can rise up a generation
to uproot injustice
to turn from our apathy
to find hope in things that are seen
and yet to be seen.

my rock star hair needs to be thinned out.
maybe it needs to be shaped.
i am jealous of my friend christina's hair.
it's cute
and shaped.

i hope i am still talking about my hair
because lately those have been thoughts towards my body.
do i really think that much about my body?
and i didn't really realize it.



if deceartu was right.
and we need to pay attention to our everyday life.
and place meaning.
to moments that steal our own time back.
from those who have us live in repetition.

then i will continue to laugh at dodi.
who sits to my left.

a mystic glow

they say that you should wait for God to show up.
But isn't God right there.
whispering in your ear.
arms length away.

The systematic approach is not working.
the checks were not in the boxes.
the moments of perfection were over.

we wait for all the ducks to be in a row.
but what if they were never supposed to be?
what if they needed to be scattered like the stars in the sky?

they say that the prophets were on the outskirts
it's because the rules did not apply.
how are they supposed to apply when you don't ascribe to this lifestyle?

I give up on your order.
and your fear.
I give up for the fact that you tried to keep me feet in step.
with yours.

the whisper is all i need.
and the smile on my face.
and what is in my eyes.
rather than what is written on the calendar for may of 2009.

today i will hear you.
or see you.
and know that you are moving.
because you said you were.
and i guess that's all i really know.

and we then fight for injustice.
and peace.
and love.
and we don't fight with fists.

late night translation

I was supposed to work tonight.
and read about how we need to work with issues of peace.
but my room was full of peace.
and love.
and community.

it was not lonely.
or empty.



it was filled with people.
laughing.
and singing.
and finding truth.
and making connections.

and I felt peace.
so I didn't read.
and I probably won't get up early tomorrow to do it either.
i guess I can catch up on what the catholics have to say about that on Thursday.

until then I will experience the peace.
and the love.
because the actions cannot be done by me reading them alone in bed.




not when there is real life to be lived.
and laughter to be had.

i don't want a life that has me so alone.
i need you to process with.
i need you to share my thoughts.

you do not need to be my lover.
you just need to be my friend.

000000100000011000001000000011

I have been seeing patterns lately.
They are everywhere.
Things in two.
pictures with patterns.
life in double.

i don't know what it all means.
and i don't know if the universe is trying to tell me something.
but I guess I am trying to listen.
and attempting to understand.

I am trying to live in the moment.
i am trying to find life.
the ugly ones.
the ones where you wish never happened.
even here i want to find some beauty and some grace.

it's hard knowing that life is disjointed.
but i guess it's better than nothing.
I don't know where to start looking
but I think i have to start with me.

me.
the one that got away.
me.
the one that works hours longer than necessary.
me.
the one that looks out of windows, and wishes on stars, and falls in love with a song.
that's me.

i don't know who else to be.
and i don't think i need to try.

because it came back on my computer screen.

We gave up on dreaming.
and long passionate kisses.
and long walks with our hands stuffed in our pockets, snow falling on our eye lashes.
for the ability to use rational discourse.
to prove we can live in someone else's expectations.

the expectation to put on a smile.
and print your documents.
and sign your checks.

so that we may biy your cars.
and your rings.
because that is what makes one important.

I have my house.
but not love.
because the love happened in between rent checks.
and credit card statements.
the love is what I bought for you to love me.
and I ask am i good enough?
and I ask if we can squeeze in an embrace between your dream and mine.
but those dreams turned into dollars and cents.

rather than

purple. green. blue.
hues that engage.
dreams that appear out of nowhere.
they are the ones that seem so outrageous.
and they stir my soul

because only the creativity can.

what is left for me to become?
I can look like your expedition.
but I would rather go on my own.

The one that didn't make sense to your normalcy.
only some dreams.
shitty metal music.
and a paintbrush.

kaherl.muxtape.com

I made a mixtape on the great sight muxtape.

It was for some of my old friends that I spent many of my college days hanging out with.
They are amazing.

You should make a mix.
and send me the link.

i am sure I would learn something new.
maybe about you.

or a band that I should be listening to.

oh where oh where

so i was inspired by the work of another.
it was constant and fluid.
and it gave me hope that I could do this alone.
and that it was hard.

and then it was gone.
and you wonder where he went.
and where and how he could go.

because it made me realize i can do this.
and maybe all along i knew i could.
but he made me realize i could.
and he doesn't know my name. or where i am from.
or that i was passionate about living life.

and all it was was a springboard.
a raw one but i was right there.

so go. go and pout and be really alone.
but others need you.
i needed you.

but i will find creativity because you opened the window and the door.
and it's not about being okay.
or not okay.



it's about walking through life and feeling.
even if it is numb.

and i will go on.
because i always do.

this monday.

I have been sitting in class all day.
One ear on the speaker and the other to the clacks of the keyboard.
I wrote my thesis last quarter.
so i am having a hard time paying attention.

so instead of paying attention i took a picture.
because we both like looking at facebook.
instead of wrestling with justice.




am i really this apathetic?
or just distracted?

I guess the day brings out the reality of my life.
sitting in front of lectures.
wishing that i could listen to music all day.
and read books that push me.
and my thoughts.

rather than being pushed to update my netflix queue.

thoughts with a black and white striped shirt. though it's not that black and white.

they say that writers die alone.
but there are a few of us left that want to find that thinker.
that other that pushes us because they spend their time walking down dirty alleys alone with a half lit cigarette in their left hand.
that is the other who gets caught staring into the lamplight.
and shivers in the rain.

that is the other.

instead we look for brilliantly redesigned boob jobs.
and cover our imperfections with foundation made of dirt.
we look for the things in others that have been redesigned to mask our flaws.
and brokenness.
our feelings are covered with linen suits and silver watches.
and we call this good.
because Louis Vitton told it was. as well as blonde actresses with personalities in their anorexia.
and we called this beautiful.

I don't want that.

I don't want the fakeness.

What I remember is the long nights laying awake. Questioning what happened yesterday.
Pretending that the day began when we laid our heads on our pillows.
I remember the freedom.
I wouldn't mind that again.

and the space to walk down crowded streets.
with headphones in. and my mind full of questions.

you can leave your pretentious ideas to the movies.
i want someone who has been alone.
and it ached.
and you stared out of windows.
and took lonely walks.
and ate by yourself.
and knew what it meant to be alone.
because having someone is that much sweeter.

I have laid in bed for most of the day my back hurts a little bit.

But I listened to fantastic music all day.

Ryan Adams: Heartbreaker
Ryan Adams: Love is Hell
Sade
Sam Prekop
Bright Eyes: Fevers and Mirrors
Bunk Bed Nights
Gilllian Welch: Time
Wilco: A Ghost is Born
Sonic Youth: Daydream Nation

and i read. reluctantly.

and i read blogs. curiously.



and i am going to read some articles for school.
and make a mix cd.
and watch juno.

and tomorrow i will take new chances.


today i just felt like a nap.

am i done with school or have i grown apathetic?

end scene.

the day was amazing.



yet i still don't want to go to bed alone.

and yet i will.
and i will sleep well.


and i will find the beauty of this space
in the akwardness

until i feel excited for the bed to be filled with only me.

wiping death from the eyes

Today may have been amazing and I wanted to document some of the moments. The moments that swallowed my soul and whispered in my ear: "you are still alive and I will remind you that you are not alone."











the conversations consisted of breakfast of pancakes and coffee, being inspired by blogs, knowing that I love music and being reminded of that, coffee and sexuality/relationships, beers and chemotherapy, thai and dinosaurs, laughter and videos, lars and the real girl and popcorn.

I know that I am loved and I can love. Where can the creativity sprout when my eyes see tomorrow?

i lived inbetween obligation.

there are some days in life you can't describe fully.
today was one of them....

pictures to come.


my life was like a movie today,
I would like to say that I would live it over and over again
but you shouldn't


i would like to remeber this day as the day i gave in.
and sonic youth came though my speakers.

We destroy what we erect.

I have been drawn, changed, and affected by the blog of Ryan Adams . He has a constant stream of thought. Some hard to swallow while others are so raw and so beautiful. To the point where whatever last piece of barrier or wall that I have erect seems to have fallen. I deconstructed it myself as well as the help of love. I am excited by the possibilities this means for my art work, my writing, my school work. The walls seem to have fallen and collapsed on the floor and I am looking at the rubble. The rubble that is my shoes, dirty underwear, the pants that I wore yesterday, the leftover coffee from last week.

The music is loud. The thoughts so fresh. The processing so necessary. I don't want to hide from anything. I don't want to rush or push. I want to let the thoughts be my guide. All the should haves and could haves and xpectations that have been placed upon me since I was a child are stripped away. I think this is what happens when we become new creations. I believe in creativity, and passion, and randomness. I believe in noise, and chaos, and staying up all night listening to the sounds someone else created and placed in your hands to find meaning. I believe we are supposed to be inspired and in the same breath turn around and bless other people.

There will always be new books to read, old records to discover, new ones to create. I want to help make whatever is a little bit better. Things aren't always supposed to make sense. Life isn't supposed to be that hard. We aren't asked to live a life without pain and until we accept that we will live trying to avoid who we are supposed to become.

something is about to change.

The Avett Brothers @ the El Rey

I fell in love with the music of the Avett Brothers not to long ago. The record Emotionalism is a favorite as of late, for the americana feel and raw, passionate lyrics. My friend Travis and I went and saw the Avett Brothers at the El Rey a couple of weeks ago.

Seeing a band live is something that can make or break my experience. The Avett Brothers only made me love them more. Their energy and passion was overwhelming through the first songs, and they reeled you in with their energy, screams, beats, and fantastic lyrics. They are a band hailing from North Carolina where it's obvious that living in the South has shaped their musical personality. That was something I recognized when I walked out of the show. I was amazed at how they understood the music that came before them (Carter Family, Bluegrass) as well as knowing that you always need to push musical lines. They are definitely a group that understands where music also needs to reveal it's current place in history. Beautiful.

Some of our favorite tracks of the night:
"The Ballad of Love and Hate"
"Colorshow"
"Die Die Die"

Here is a video from the tour:


I am a sucker for the banjo. This night was fantastic. Something that only enhances the CD listening experience.

Shine a Light

I have the amazing opportunity this quarter to TA a class on Theology and Pop Music. It has less to do about Theology per say and more about looking at the historical progression of music post 1950. Of course I am loving it. I am quiet in the class and love to listen people process through music genre avoiding comments about taste and more looking at political and social change.

Instead of having class last week we headed to the Movie Theatre and watched the documentary Shine a Light from The Rolling Stones. Here is a trailer from the film directed by Martin Scorsese.


It is a live concert documentary interspersed with cuts of past footage of the lineage of the Stones. There were a few thoughts while watching the film.
1. My friend Stephen and I calculated that Mick Jagger has probably sang Start it Up at least 10,000 times. (Do the math I am not exaggerating).
2. The music is kinda boring but man oh man I will watch that man dance over and over and over again
3. Mick Jagger is a bit of a control freak
4. I would rather listen to Buddy Guy play that amazing guitar any day than most pop music.
5. Watching a concert in the middle of the day is kinda fun.

The Stones are the Stones and I am sure we all have our own opinions on the men. I prefer the Beatles but hey that's just me.

Me, You, and Everyone We Know

I love a life that is quirky and imaginative. I love a life full of random moments and a life that can be surprising and wonderful and random. It is never easy nor simple. I think life is meant for risk tasking, surprises, spontaneity. It should be a life full of love or the pursuit of love, which means it is never absent of pain or brokenness. I believe that life without that heartache makes it kind of boring and/or selfish.

On that note I have been fascinated by the work from Miranda July . She is a performance artist and writer. In my mind she focuses on simple beauty and wonder. It's these small things that make our desires bloom. She often times pushes boundaries towards understanding our limitations and I really value and appreciate who she is. She made a film in 2005 that seemed to be a collection of performance art pieces but they are threaded together through the lives of different peoples experiences. I have been thinking about this film for awhile and I have been moved and shaken from her honesty and creativity.

This is a clip from the film. It focuses on this walk to her car and her willingness to risk for something that she desires. It's simple and elegant.


The rest of the film is something similar to this. It pulls your heart strings. It pulled my creativity outside of itself (my creativity has been stuck for awhile). Between this film and Alan Kaprow's exhibit I have been moved and shaped. This type of art, the little ones every day, can add up to a life full of wonder and spontaneity. I want this kind of life. The push and pull. The willingness to lay yourself out there. By writing this I thought of a couple of things that is said in the film. She is waiting for Richard to call and says..."We have a whole life to live together you fucker, but it can't start until you call." There was also Richard stating the predicament of his burnt hand...

Christine Jesperson: [seeing his bandage] Whoa, what happened?
Richard Swersey: You want the short version or the long one?
Christine Jesperson: The long one.
Richard Swersey: I tried to save my life but it didn't work.
Christine Jesperson: Wow. What's the short one?
Richard Swersey: I burned it.

This has been the moments that have made me smile lately.

Art as Life

Living in Los Angeles provides endless opportunity to engage in as well as observe art. Last weekend I needed to get out of Pasadena so my roommate Rachel and I visited the Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA) downtown LA. It's a great space with an expibit on Alan Kaprow's Art as Life.

Kaprow understood that art wasn't just imitating life but it was something that we did on an everyday basis. From the MOCA website the "exhibition traces the development of the artist’s oeuvre from works that incorporated everyday objects into collages and assemblages to all-encompassing Environments. The installation consists of paintings, drawings, sculptures, and assemblages, along with photographs, films, videos, and activity booklets."

The exhibit was fantastic. It was basically all hands on and you bring yourself and your imagination into the exhibit. There are chances to move furniture, have a discussion, interact with his pieces through overhead projector, and there are film instillations that portray past endeavors.

I loved the feel of the exhibit. There was a maze created by shredded paper as well as fencing and clear plastic. I found the end where it was playing my new favorite dance song low....because the theme was apples and all I kept hearing was "apple-bottom jeans, and the boots with the fur". It was a fantastic exhibit and something, even a week later I can't escape my memory. It is still impacting me today. Every moment can be art....how often do we just want it to be perfect?

For Emma, Forever Ago

I love music and I love to find albums that let me put it on repeat and listen to it over and over again. A few weeks ago a friend introduced me to the album, For Emma, Forever Ago from artist Bon Iver (proounced bohn eevair and is French for ‘good winter’). The first listen was captivating. It is a simple record based around an acoustic guitar and a vocalist that reminds you of TV On the Radio. It’s layers become evident the more you listen and reveals how un-simple the record really is. The track that caught my ear was “Skinny Love,” a song that has you belting out the chorus about a relationship broken and the desire for the other to be heard. It’s been my go-to song lately. Every chance I get it’s playing through the headphones. The story behind the record puts a smile on my face. One lone man, Justin Vernon, moved to a hunting cabin in the woods of Northwestern Wisconsin. We learn from his band bio that, “All of his personal trouble, lack of perspective, heartache, longing, love, loss and guilt that had been stock piled over the course of the past six years, was suddenly purged into the form of song.” The lyrics are intense and the music sparse yet the overall album is smart and forever intoxicating. It is not over produced, you can tell it was barely produced at all. The ability to share the loneliness and heartbreak lends a beautiful hand towards honesty. I believe it is a must have for the music collection. It will leave you singing, “my my my my my my, my, my.”

A video for the song Blindsided to get a feel:

sounds.

I have been meaning to write some thoughts but they are jumbled or sparse or not ready to be articulated. I have encountered both beauty and pain this week. Really what's new....I have been meaning to say something about music and how it has given me solace and hope and a sense of peace as of late. The Bon Iver song "Skinny Love" has arrested my soul, just like the new Death Cab song did the week before, and the week before that was The Avett Brothers and Bright Eyes. I have connected and have found new depth in a space where I thought was already deep and vast but on the other side looked so narrow, just wide enough where my hips could eek through. The love and the beauty that the sounds bring forth arrest me. It changes my mood, it changes my attitude. It has given me the permission to ask new questions and lately to be satisfied with answers I have received before this.

Somewhere along the way I thought life was supposed to be easy. Now I just realize it is just supposed to be beautiful and when I say beautiful I don't mean our Western expectations of beauty. Lately I have found beauty in the garbage, in the uncomfortable moments. Where I once had fear it is no longer there. Where I was was timid I now open my mouth. I know what I want. It has taken a long time to get there but it nice that in this moment of time there seems to be some sort of direction without a plan of how to get there. It's funny how life moves and where it moves you to.

Life is really what you make it to be. Lately it's because I can't get away from the sounds that ooze from life. Music has been my place of solace and rest. A soundtrack that makes some days that could feel so dead feel so alive...I hope my life is never devoid of music and the place that it exists in my life. I don't think I can ever get enough...

It's funny the song that is playing at the moment is Over the Rhine and Karen reminds us....
I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I'm gonna learn to love without fear

and that's what I will try to do....

The Time is Now....

My friend Carissa posted a comment in my blog the other day about the fact that I mentioned a bearded man in my previous blog post (Ray LaMontagne). I thought it was time that I make a confession about my love about the beard. It's an odd fact or really obsession that I have about the opposite gender. I find the beard endearing and something that many men take as the road less travelled. It seems like it could be considered a faux pax in Western culture. I poo the pax and highly celebrate and encourage the use and growth of the beard.

I don't know why I have this obsession. No one in my immediate family ever had a beard so it is not a sense memory but it has grown into a vision of something adorable to me. The beard holds a sense of the alternative, like I said, the road less traveled. The beard seems to me something that accents a personality or an attempt to scoff at high culture desires of cleanliness. There is a hint of adventure with the beard. Something like a mystery worth being solved. I will see men on a regular basis and think to myself, there cute...why? I realize he had a beard. I am a sucker.

The beard is a lovely addition to any man. Even scruff is allowed. I always mourn a bit when March comes along. Mustache March is something that the Fuller community men lovingly participate in. I am grateful for February and that the beard is grown in anticipation for the Mustache to take full effect, almost pride. When March 1 comes I mourn a little for the loss of facial hair but the stache still makes my little heart smile and there is a chuckle or two because it's hilarious.

I value and honor the facial hair known as the beard. Men don't fear about the use of facial hair.....you have a friend in me.

Thoughts on a break

The new quarter began and it should be a great last quarter. I am a bit nervous about graduating but I know that I will be fine and I will be at the places I need to be. Last week I took a lot of time for myself and processed through life and it all happened with the help of my itunes. I love my itunes and i love my music. I am a bit enamored with it all, I won't lie.

The records that have been stealing my ears have been:
Bon Iver The record is called: For Emma, Forever Ago. is simply beautiful. Simple. Elegant. It's as if the singer from TV on the Radio sang instead of Nick Drake. I have read the comparisons to Iron and Wine but I don't hear it....Anyway....There is a bit of struggle for meaning and hope but in there you can feel the process. All the music was done by this man and it's good and sharp, wise, and simple. The music itself has been on repeat and a lot of it has found my staring into space and I unconciously let the sound seep into my soul. Here is an excerpt I found:

“Bon Iver (pronounced: bohn eevair; French for “good winter” and spelled wrong on purpose) is a greeting, a celebration and a sentiment. […]
“It wasn’t planned. The goal was to hibernate. Vernon moved to a remote cabin in the woods of Northwestern Wisconsin at the onset of winter. He lived there alone for three months, filling his days with wood splitting and other chores around the land. This solitary time slowly began feeding a bold, uninhibited new musical focus. The days slowly evolved into nights filled with twelve-hour recording blocks, breaking only for trips on the tractor into the pines to saw and haul firewood, or for frozen sunrises high up a deer stand. All of his personal trouble, lack of perspective, heartache, longing, love, loss and guilt that had been stock piled over the course of the past six years, was suddenly purged into the form of song.”

I found the newer Ray LaMontagne, Till the Sun Turns Black. I might like Trouble a bit more but the opening track is entitle "Be Here Now". There are piano, strings, a bearded man singing his smokey voiced tunes. It's beautiful and elegant. There is a maturity in the idea of relationships in this one and the music is simply beautiful. He brings elegance and grace and the desire to find the man (or woman) to nuzzle yourself into...

The Avett Brothers have stole my heart. My friend Travis and I went and partook in their goodness Sunday night. The show was high energy from beginning to end. They have a way about them that had me recognize the value of the past and the need to still create something that is new and fresh. Beautifully done. Lyrically catchy. Heart wrenching at some places and fun in the next moments. I was blown away at their musical instrument versatility. I am glad that great americana/folk is still being made and honoring the tradition that was before. The record:Emotionalism is worth every moment listened...

I also encountered Rosie Thomas on Saturday night. OH MY she makes me smile. I had the chance/opportunity to chat with her briefly after the show and yet again realized we need to be friends. Her and I click and she gave me some amazing advice on being patient for love and that it will find me when the timing is right and when the right man sees my quirks as beautiful rather than annoying. She is getting married in August and it was lovely to here her gush on and on about the beauty of the love she found as well as the process of getting there. You can tell she really is in love and it is making her even MORE adorable on stage (if that is even possible).

love.