Something for the Everyday

In moments of loneliness, despair - melancholy,  I've made a habit of turning to music. There's something about the art that doesn't rid me from my feelings - but understands them, moves them, uses them, expresses them. Music takes heartache and turns it into something beautiful, something more, something for others. Music is where the heartache of those listening meets the heartache of those making. Music then is shared, especially in its creation. It's shaped by whomever is playing the instrument, it conforms to the space it's being played in, it's molded by those whom it's playing to. What the listeners experience is felt by the artist, which in turn, is expressed by the instrument.  I've taken to Tiny Desk Concerts, in a way, because it most starkly embodies this interaction. Most of these artists play stripped down versions of their work. That means something. It's not for convenience - considering they've dragged grand piano's behi...

9/11/1974, Alexandra Palace As I was walkin' down Grosvenor Square, Not a chill to the winter but a nip to the air, From the other direction she was calling my eye, Could be an illusion but I might as well try, might as well try. She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes, And I knew without askin' she was into the blues. She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls, I knew right away she was not like other girls, other girls. In the heat of the evening when the dealin' got rough, She was too pat to open and too cool to bluff. As I picked up my matches and was closin' the door, I had one of those flashes, I'd been there before, been there before. Well I ain't often right but I've never been wrong, Seldom turns out the way it does in the song. Once in a while you get shown the light In the strangest of places if you look at it right. Well there ain't nothin' wrong with the way she moves, All scarlet begonias or a...

I'm excited to be by your side, holding you're hand, and watching with you as the sky of whatever city we're in is lit ablaze by the annual practice of pernicious patriotism.

So, there's just under a month until I see you. It's honestly kind of weird once I pull back the veil of excitement and anticipation. It's weird because I'm looking forward to this big reunion in a way - but it feels like I never left your side. I think every day about being held in your arms - yet I feel like I'm being held by you as I drift to sleep at night. All I can think about is looking into your eyes again - but I've been lost in your eyes since the day we met, and to think I've ever allowed myself to be set free is foolish. I guess that's the irony of our distance-enhanced amour. What I miss the most - what I long for every day - has never truly left my soul. Of course, I miss the physical connection. I miss our hugs, I miss our kisses, I miss holding your hand, and resting my hand along your body. But what I love most of those moments are the feelings they give me. My heart swells to near eruption. My soul calms and feels balanced. My mind ra...