Sunday, November 20, 2011

A Night in the Life

She is booking it quickly quickly quickly through the aisles of the grocery store in her high pink plastic boots and grey baggy pants she is hoping no one will notice are pajamas. Her puffy white coat is hot but it's doing a great job of covering up parts she doesn't want seen, wait are people staring do they notice no makeup behind the hair do they see parts of her losing the gravity war? Hurry hurry hurry avoid lingering looks but they keep looking all that's needed is some foil some parchment paper a toothbrush to replace the one in her frenzy she mistakenly used to clean the bathroom and there is no way she'll make that mistake again due to the neon selection only available to her now.

How did she work herself up to this? Days upon days of being unable to make a decision, so far away from her heart now, all in her head, there is no right or wrong, it's complicated. She is afraid one way means she's not stepping up and that the other way just spells trouble and that doing neither means a constant folding up like endless origami or the Chinese whatever folded paper fortune teller game that incessantly moved like a chomping mouth but never said anything at all. Eating even more of that vegan peanut butter cheesecake with brownie crust isn't helping because this decision has grown bigger and more weighted and more important and she's almost convinced herself that if she can't make this happen she is flawed and failing and destined to flail this way forever.

At home it looks like again someone has ripped the corner gutter off the house and tossed it five feet away, why would someone keep doing that how ridiculous is it to reattach gutters in the rain doesn't this just fit okay okay it all flows and we just direct it that's what they keep saying keep creating the way to direct the flow show it where and how. Again.

Inside she hates the foil box because it rips at her hands but she's got to cover these holiday items at least that decision is made the ripping foil makes a glorious musical noise. The oven fires up like an opening line and the boom box designed to look ancient launches into its otherworldly soundscape she responds like a fluid Howard Schatz photograph work this out in the body maybe it moves up into the mind and blows wide open her heart and soul will feel the way. It's a really big boat in thick deep blue fog and it's aching to change direction but it is slow to change this monster, she's already alienated some with small decisions and losing them overboard as they willingly go not running but simply blind-stepping off the edge. Somehow it's hard to notice the people coming on board running at her with arms wide open because they are so light and beautiful and not in the heavy cloak of need she's used to.

She is thrashing in her grey baggy pi's and it's dark and rainy and cold and she knows that if she just keeps focusing on beauty and the escalation of her own universal spirit she'll feel connected and homeward and warm again like tears moving flowing not stuck and there is light somewhere and the heated rhythmic drums the high arching echoing guitar line the aching voice -- what's it all saying where is it going? Follow.

Music = real life = music = real life = music = = life = = = light = = = = choose = = = = be = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

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Another imperfect post, accompanied by:
Achtung Baby! (U2)
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Sunday, November 13, 2011

Traveling

Sometimes you just get in the car -- even a rental -- and go.

will.i.am says in a video (Visionaries: Inside the Creative Mind -- Music as Medicine -- Deleted Scenes), "Touring is the best thing in the world.  You get to see... perspective... where you come from, from a distance.  Because you really can't understand where you come from when you're always in it."

Dream while here (DHC's friend's contemporary barn in Efland, NC during the Fall 2011 Tour):


Or here (the beautiful Twin Turrets Inn in Boyertown, PA):


Or here (The Victorian Loft in Clearfield, PA -- see an informal video here).

And home, in its unfinished-flooredness, half-paintedness, lacking door-edness -- I have a deeper appreciation for it.

This going and coming, this transportation outside of self, and in again, and out, and in -- this stretching into the person you envision yourself to be, out there -- bridging, always, between -- here, and there.

I put on a pair of black boots and link arms with a forever friend and absorb the second act in the smoky library auditorium of someone else's pictures and feel completely, utterly, at home.

The home page of the library link above reads:  "Reinvention is the only option."

Sometimes you just get in the car -- even a rental -- and go.

Then, go get more.

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Another imperfect post, accompanied by:
Hospital (Andrew Bird) -- free download here -- from the Norman movie soundtrack
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Sunday, November 06, 2011

Dear Nagging Little Voices

I'm not completely sure of your purpose, except to highlight the very pieces of life that are in need of clarity and light.


So I listen to you, but only so far.  And then I thank you as I push you off the edge (earlier than you think).

I know you don't want me to change, you want me to stay my small boxed little self, so you can feel comfortable and not have to move nor get out of the way.

Nuh-uh.

Either you die, or I do.  I'm a Phoenix, and you remain ashes.

Changes announced soon.  It's all good.
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Another imperfect post, accompanied by:
These Are My Twisted Words (Radiohead)
Bad / Wide Awake (U2)
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Thursday, November 03, 2011

Tour Documentaries -- Take 1

**For an entire month this Fall (2011), Deborah Henson-Conant and I threw ourselves into a joint traveling adventure of performances, workshops, and the ongoing development / implementation of fantastical ideas and dreams.**

Imagine...
(actually, you don't have to, since you'll see it all below in the video -- it's only 2.5 minutes long and the end is very important!)

... you're tired and attempting to work after a civilized-for-a-second meal at an Italian restaurant...

... a certain someone is narrating her wandering rambling pre-bath journey around your new-to-you abode, the Victorian Loft Bed and Breakfast (more on this awesome place and its incredible owner, soon)....

Taken with one of our many recording devices -- this is classic TH/DHC on tour, folks.


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Another imperfect post, accompanied by:
Question (Moody Blues)
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Other tour posts (in non-chronological order):
Prepared or Paranoid?
Firsts -- How the Tour Began
Sense of Place