7.12.2010

This guy...

One had the potential to be dad's best friend. They'd go fishing, have a beer and work on a car or boat while mom and I would gab in the kitchen...

One could have been my artistic fit - we could have had a printmaking studio instead of dining room.

One could have been my spiritual pair - we could forever tie two families that have a rich history together. Our parents' dream.

One could have been my musical soulmate. He'd be in a band so instead of buying a new couch we would be invest in a new amp, show tickets, or just sit on the old couch while he'd strum his guitar.

There's a guy in my past to match everything I love. With each I could have had a completely different life then I have today.

But there's another guy.

He doesn't have an ounce of artistic talent and our musical interests are as widespread as our spiritual practices. I can write a list if all of our opposites and it would contain chapters and an index. At one point I was sure we would never have a future. At another point i wanted out of our future. Besides, there were many others I was more compatible with.

But this guy...

This guy...

I married him five years ago, and I still feel like I picked the best one.

Love this guy.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

7.01.2010

Open letter to a bad friend...

Bad friend,

I'm hurt.

Over the past couple of years or so I've invested time and energy in our friendship that has just, well, fizzled over the past few months. I can handle fizzling. What I can't handle is telling me you're going to be there and then not be there. I can't comprehend why you say you value our friendship yet can't even talk to me on a semi regular basis. But you know what? it's not that...it's actually not even that. You know what it is? The fact that you took an interest in my sick uncle, asked if you could do anything, I tell you to visit him, you say you might (which isn't a YES, I know) but then you don't visit. What I didn't tell you is that I told my uncle I talked to you, and that you might be coming. He can't talk because of the breathing tube but he raised his eyebrows and smiled. Later that week I lost it. I told you I lost it. I had been cooped up in the hospital for three days, from 9 in the morning to 10 at night and I was emotionally exhausted. My uncle means so much to me. He never married or had kids - he only has us and I couldn't stand to see him in the condition he was (and still is) in. I needed to vent. I needed to cry. And for some reason I thought, you would understand and would want to talk. You went through this with a parent, I thought you might have some advice or some words you could share that helped you. My mom was there for your family, you couldn't visit for her? For my cousin (who I know has hurt you in the past, but once in the past ya'll were good friends too), him either? You couldn't even take two seconds to text me back right away that night because you were out. You knew I was upset - and no follow up. Nothing except a snarky Facebook comment. Seriously? That's crap, and if you don't know it well you are far too up the butt of this lifestyle you are living to notice. The only thing keeping me from telling you this personally is that it would involve an act of God for us to speak, and because I don't think it's worth me hearing your line of excuses and self superiority. I'm disappointed because I would have been a forever friend and you know this - but this is one of those things that will be really hard to forget.

I know this is one of the least mature things I could have done but this is my time to vent. This is my stage, this is my soapbox and if it makes me feel better after the last two weeks I've been having, well, then I don't regret it.

.

mewithoutyou / Rubik / Paper Route - Dallas @ The Door

I went to this show on the 16th at The Door (formerly the Gypsy Tea Room where I saw Regina Spektor for the first time) and never got around to posting it - it's been lunacy here lately which I'll update my two or three readers on in a bit but for now, la musica.

I started listening to mewithoutyou more within the past year. I was exposed to their work a few years ago, listened, liked, but within a matter of 6 months or so I've been pulling out their gems from my musical archive and have been quite pleased.

One of their most well known songs, Messes of Men, has spoken to me on a pretty deep level this year. I listen to it at least once a day and in not so many words I can relate to the message. As I may have mentioned before, I'm a sucker for good lyrical content. Many of their lyrics read more like a piece of fine literature then lyrics from a band who doesn't quite sing as much as they talk, yell and scream (which I'm not typically into but what can I say? It speaks to me.)

Okay, back on track, Messes of Men, I love it. I found this video on YouTube. It was filmed at the Cornerstone Festival in 2006. Ironically, my good friend and photography GOD ;) Dave is at Cornerstone this year (as I type) helping out with the Enthos clothing booth and taking more rad pics to add to his portfolio. Need I also mention he gained privileges to shoot the mewithoutyou show last night at the festival? Too legit. Maybe you should check out his website periodically and catch a glimpse of those photos and more at his site I linked above. And if you desire a great tee or want to check out some great tops and photos, do yourself a favor and check out the Enthos link as well.

Enough plugs. No one reads this anyway. Ha. Read, listen and I'll catch up with you afterwards...


Messes Of Men

"I do not exist,"
we faithfully insist
sailing in our separate ships,
and in each tiny caravel -
tiring of trying, there's a necessary dying
like the horseshoe crab in its proper season sheds its shell
such distance from our friends,
like a scratch across a lens,
made everything look wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper blew away before we'd left the bay
so half-blind we wrote these songs on sheets of salty wood

you caught me making eyes at the other boatmen's wives
and heard me laughing louder at the jokes told by their daughters
I'd set my course for land,
but you well understand
it takes a steady hand to navigate adulterous waters
the proppeller's spinning blades held acquaintance with the waves
as there's mistakes I've made no rowing could outrun
the cloth low on the mast like to say I've got no past
but I'm nonetheless the librarian and secretary's son
with tarnish on my brass and mildew on my glass
I'd never want someone so crass as to want someone like me
but a few leagues off the shore, I bit a flashing lure
and I assure you, it was not what it expected it to be!
I still taste its kiss, that dull hook in my lip
is a memory as useless as a rod without a reel
to an anchor-ever-dropped-seasick-yet-still-docked captain spotted napping with his first mate at the wheel floating forgetfully along, with no need to be strong. we keep our confessions long and when we pray we keep it short
I drank a thimbleful of fire and I'm not ever going back

Oh, my G-d!

"I do not exist," we faithfully insist
while watching sink the heavy ship of everything we knew
if ever you come near I'll hold up high a mirror
Lord, I could never show you anything as beautiful as you




So I didn't take any great or even decent pics at the show but I do have some rather mediocre videos I recorded on my iPhone. Unfortunately the one song I got in it's entirety is cut in half because my mom called mid recording and it automatically stopped. Thanks mom :)