July 17, 2012 § Leave a comment
“You knock me out.” – Kevin Devine.
Go easy. They say the first sign of madness is talking to yourself. I’ve found I have words going around my head. Not for myself, they aren’t for me, and if they are they are not from me. So it’s OK. OK? It’s OK. Clips. As if those little bits you hear on sports radio, that moment of shock and ecstasy captured in following description spread across a canvas of crowd noise and excitement. That’s what I have when relax. Yeah.
Like there’s some moment that is going unreported, some drama that the world doesn’t know about and it’s only stage and escape into the real world from whatever parallel universe it dwells in is up through my throat and out my mouth. They are ecstatic. Moments of unparalleled joy, the culmination of a life’s work. Laid out in front of thousands. Pure perfection in a moment to be shared.
Ever since I was little I would attached an unusual amount of sentimental value to the strangest of objects. The bust up mini copper model from my child hood, a CD an ex gave me, a plectrum from my first gig, a pen from my first book. In cases like relics. My cases. My shoe boxes. Worth nothing to anyone but worth shedding blood for to me. I mean. Isn’t that what all of this is? Sentimental. I mean wherever it is we go after all this, I’m pretty sure that I won’t be able to take my shoes, my mini, my CD, my pick or pen. Just like the business man won’t be taking his BMW or the hippy that lock of hair. There will be no mothers taking photos with them, no fathers with baseball mitts. No. None of it. It doesn’t come with us. So what’s the real value? It’s what you place on it. It’s sentimentality, all of it. Even to the money in your wallet. It’s what whoever you parting with it to is willing to exchange. It’s what it is. So don’t look so sad. Don’t drag your feet, there’s no good in that. Just smile, go easy, listen to the moments in your head. Everybody knows that it’s all about the things that get stuck inside of your head. Go easy.
So don’t get sad. Don’t get really fuckin’ sad. Whatever it is, that’s it. That’s what’s waiting. So face it when it’s your time. Nothing will help you but what you learnt on the way. So learn, don’t collect. Remember, don’t forget.
Trouble makes no scene, she sweeps in surgical and clean then leaves me begging on my hands and knees.
July 13, 2012 § 2 Comments
“Trouble tracks me down.” Kevin Devine.
Just write it. Let it go. Let it bleed. Get to the point where the fingers move at at least half the speed of the thoughts, then just let ride, let it roll, let it go. The music will help. So will the practise, the repetition of something new. Einstein once said that doing the same thing over and over and expecting the same result was insanity. Einsanity? No. Just no. Do the same things, expect different result, improvements in flow and speed and pace and expression and feeling.
Let them be yours. The words. They are yours. If your words aren’t yours that who’s are they? More importantly if your words aren’t yours then what is, your heart? your thoughts?
Bravery is underrated. It is underrated because it is rare. Some would say rare due to lack of opportunity to display it. I would say rare because it is smothered by cowardice. The opportunities are all around us. They too are ours.
Messy this one, isn’t it. Sort of all over the place. Not much of a punchy return, but a return non the less. I was lost for a few weeks there. Lost in a strange departure that bent and twisted and dragged. My commas are slipping, I keep using and without thinking to give the sentences ‘stream of concious’ style words. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. So is my heart. Mine and hers.
It’s good to be back.