leather bound book

i've always disliked moving. the act of moving. packing bags. boxing up belongings. this move's going to be big one. it's my first move completely solo. all the other times i was accompanied for the ins and outs. a partner. now, i am solo. solitude. different indeed. took a full year to acclimate. this move signifies the end of a defining chapter of my life. when i write my life's story, i will title this one last chapter Learning. and those who know will know the extent of what that means. the next chapter Follow My Dreams is one that is in draft form. it is still writing itself. i feel the creative engine churning though as if ready to be unleashed. my next goal, to become less owner of things. should make for light travel in the future. clear the mind. unfortunately for now, i pack. i cannot throw out enough. give away enough.

blissful angst

music is running through me. pulsating. i'm changing from day to day. moment to moment. a real case, i suppose. makes it hard to focus the feelings long enough to produce. i need to produce music and it frustrates me that i'm at a roadblock. i psych myself out, wig out a bit. i stop. step back from the keys. put the guitar down and walk away. this has been the pattern the last week. nothing turns me on like lisztomania & fences by phoenix, the reeling & little secrets by passion pit and pull my heart away by jack peñate, especially. i've grown incredibly fond on the artist. the fellow musician. every atom of my being is moved to make it. sing it. write it. create it. play it. it is me and i am it.

sometimes when i'm driving i give the player a rest and turn the radio on. a second chance, i guess you could call it (the radio let me down last time. in actuality, it has let me down every time. clockwork. lame music, empty sound. and they call that hip-hop? they don't know what hip-hop is. or they forgot. or where collectively brainwashed by crap for music. at best, living under a rock). my ears quickly bleed. i turn the radio off. it's back to the unknown gems, mainstream radio's loss. my infinite gain.

i'm neglecting the keys in the next room. they know it. they feel bad. i feel bad that they feel bad. i want to make them happy. i want them to make me happy. if i can give radio a second chance, we can most certainly can give each other a second chance. let's try this again, shall we?

last page

so this is the last stretch. the last leg of this 10 yr. journey. it's a time of mixed emotions. on the one hand, there's resignation and contentment. hope and aspiration. on the other, pits in the stomach. sleepless nights. it seems so archaic for lawyers to decide what's best for two people they know nothing about. two people who know each other better than that. unanswered phone calls. unreplied texts. ends back and forth. is there no common ground? feels like there is no ground at all. or at best, like we're standing on two different grounds. in two different countries. two different worlds. two different universes. let's make peace. let's make white flags. let's finalize. let's close. oh that unity might be had in some form, in whatever peculiar ways we can create. fair minds are terrible things to waste. balance is a terrible thing to ignore. moderation is a terrible thing to disapprove. God is there no end to the uncertainty? this is the most excruciating thing i've ever gone through. no walk in the park. relief comes in the form of antacids and chocolate. how i have hoped it would come in the form of a nod. a gesture. an agreement. a resolution. a hand shake. the ride has just gotten bumpier. i buckle up and prepare, but nothing i have done in my life up until now can adequately prepare me for this unknown journey. these uncertainties. i am at a loss. i pray and turn it over to God.

“I adjure Thee by Thy might, O my God! Let no harm beset me in times of tests, and in moments of heedlessness guide my steps aright through Thine inspiration. Thou art God, potent art Thou to do what Thou desirest. No one can withstand Thy Will or thwart Thy Purpose.”

~ The Báb

“The musician’s art is among those arts worthy of the highest praise, and it moveth the hearts of all who grieve.”

~ ‛Abdu’l-Bahá

absurd little list

1. coffee or tea (coffee in the morning or else i must brace myself for a big headache that can very well span the entire day)
2. morning or night (the night season is when it all happens. creativity creeps in and my body, mind, soul come alive. i am a new being at night. i am more myself here than any other part of the day. i am romance and the night is my companion)
3. sweet or salty (solid befuddlement. i have an enormous sweet tooth. so much so that i force myself to eat salty food in the interest of sweet's enhancement. deliciously sickening)
4. postcards or emails (emails make me giddy. but postcards are my heart. nothing comes close to the words of a friend, a loved one, written in their own hand, with an image for vicarious daydreaming)
5. best childhood television program (fraggle rock. scared the shit out of me, but i was obsessed with it)
6. collector of... (magazines, photos, greeting cards and gifts. anything sentimental is hard for me to throw out)
7. choice superpower (invisibility. the idea of observing people in their uninhibited and personal environments without them knowing is fascinating to me. sounds a bit stalkerish, i know...lol )
8. first thought this morning (what's the absolute latest i can sleep before i'm late for work? slept right up until about 10 mins. before it was time for work! what can i say, when the body speaks, i listen)
9. last thought before reading this (i'm so bored, and i really should be sleeping or reading but need to do something tedious to feel productive)
10. objects in your pocket (front right pocket: folded CVS pharmacy receipt for eye drops (allergies acting up again). back right pocket: iphone)
11. objects on your night table (rememberance of God prayer book, iphone charger, lamp, photo of mom & dad, pen, journal)
12. time. elaborate. (passing, fleeting, like a train i've missed. i'm always conjuring up ways to save time, make time, hold time. most of the time i simply end up wasting time)
13. worst memory (the last big fight i had with my ex)
14. best movie (shawshank redemption)
15. bad habit (procrastination & chocolate eating)
16. best habit (empathizing)
17. greatest accomplishment (surviving)
18. 3 long-term goals (MFA, make great music...oh yeah, and meet mr. right and start a family)
19. celebrity crush (john mayer)
20. 1 thing you've changed this year (how i feel about my hair. finally embraced the curls and accepted the mane)
21. first thing you notice (body language. i find the way a person carries themselves to be particularly interesting. human observation is one of my greatest pastimes. i'll probably write a book on the subject one day)
22. clean or messy (i've grown leaps and bounds in this area in recent years. despite continuous efforts however, i'm still a tad on the messy side. although now it's contained to one area like a drawer, rather than the entire place. heaven help me when i have kids!!)
23. order or chaos (despite #22's answer, order order order. there has to be some order to my life because my head is already so chaotic)
24. greatest place to live (nyc)
25. 5 to-do-list items (vacuum carpets, catch up on emails, catch up on phone calls, look for title to my car for wednesday court date (have to show proof of registration to have citation dropped), finish laundry)
26. 1 regret (hurting loved ones)
27. thing you miss most about being a kid (making mud pies out in the backyard after rainfall)
28. thing you love most about not being a kid (wisdom)
29. best song of all time (hummingbird, seals & crofts)
30. best song of the moment (gravity, sara bareilles)
31. last book you enjoyed (girls of riyadh, rajaa alsanea)
32. last movie you enjoyed (pineapple express)
33. saturday nights or sunday afternoons (it's so soft, light, airy, quiet, still)
34. hidden talent (reading people)
35. favorite food (ghormeh sabzi)
36. fav place in the house (by the window)
37. favorite person to talk to (andrea. she gets me. all of me. knows all the nuances)
38. re-occurring thought (find/give love)
39. wall color (strawberry yogurt. an experimental color for wall #1. it's revolting and nauseating and i haven't had time to paint it back to it's original color)
40. photos or paintings (particularly peoples faces. portraits. memories. old times. i'm a sucker for nostalgia)

2°

we used to joke that the kevin bacon 6 degrees of separation theory was ridiculous and overindulgent, but it's not only true now, it's way closer. the world is simply smaller. as the universe expands, our world grows more and more tiny by the day. the minute. the second. the post. the tweet. too small? two degrees makes me wonder. makes me think. maybe we'll try outer space next? the great expanding unexplored. little beings on other planets waiting to be connected to kevin bacon by amplitudes and proportions. had i known just how many degrees separated us, perhaps i might not have been so telling. you are now in my head though. isn't that more like one degree? if this were last year, i never would've shared anything. you never would've known me. i would've made certain of that. i would've danced around subjects. told you only what i thought was relevant, if anything. put up the impenetrable force field. but i've shed the lead apron now. life is in motion. it is a plan. there is an order. it can be written. life. who we meet. when we meet them. i will try and convince myself it is coincidence but, the more i pretend i'm not interested in what you think, what you write, the more degrees i unintentionally chip away. the more you're in my head. it's not a bad thing. a little disruptive, but i'm quite fond of the unhinging. the bottomless ocean. the wellspring of information. the text-book-i'd-rather-enjoy-reading part of your head.

8,873.32 miles away

you don't want to meet new people. it's too much work. too much explaining involved. too much effort. you stick with what you know. who you know. perhaps that is all you really need. perhaps only one person who gets you. just one other person to be a witness to your life. to know you've existed. you've been noted. documented. if you don't show yourself how can we find you? where can we find you? perhaps you think we won't understand you. won't get it right. too much history. too many inside jokes. “you're late”, you say. you've missed the boat...or just arrived, depending on how you look at it. too many unknowns. how exhausting to make everything known. where would you start? too much baggage. too many unknowns. there is no beginning to a life that has always been. “how can one trace their memories back to their first conscious thought?”, you ask. how do you pass that on? where's the starting point? you believe all you'll ever need is tucked inside your head. confined within the limits of the mind. and were that Truth, how then could unity be attained? were we not created for this great destiny? instinctually bound to this great law of inevitability? we are never alone. no cliche. it simply is. how can we find you if you fall off? no need to lock yourself in that prison. be open. be open. be open.

letting go...holding on

the hardest part is letting go. of friendships, of family. that loss is the hardest part about this process. the friends in chicago. all those guys in atlanta. or what about all the family in nashville? beautiful cousins and siblings i've formed friendships with? am i to let them go? it's awkward. and how i wish it weren't. how i wish i could save time in a bottle. package up all the knowns and keep them safe on the mantle. marriage is meant to birth unity and its foundations. unity surmounts the obstacles. brings pieces together. bonds and melts each of us into one soul. one unit. one. there is no disputing the breaking of that unity being so discouraged. breaking apart bonds and lives. disrupting the union. how i wish i could paint healing strokes of color across the edges of those broken lines. bring a new life and shape to them. piece friendships, families together. they can never be what they once were, but can they not be? can they not exist in a new way? in a more profound and lasting way that goes beyond the knots of legality? can they not be rooted in the world of the spirit? can they not bear new and more succulent fruit? more intoxicating perfume? this is my one wish now. i humbly shoot it up to God, up in the infinite corners of creation beyond the confines of time and space and pray that He will bestow this small wish in some way, shape or form.

a hot bed

i think i'm living in a hot bed of allergens!! little critters lurking in the dark. i haven't exactly seen them, but i feel like their out there waiting to make me sick any minute. yuck. pets are great, but also a handful. i wish i could isolate my cats in one of those bubble boy balls for a couple of days and scrub my place from top to bottom. i cannot wait to move. i hate carpet. i miss wood floors.

blurry line

where does the life you are called to live and the life you are living begin and end? i've been thinking about this more than usual lately. maybe it's because i'm riding a spiritual and emotional high, having returned from a wonderful weekend of conscious thought. but it does seem an important question to unravel. knowing your limitations, a good thing? or is it best to not go there to begin with and look into the bright-shinning light, squint your eyes, reach and try and feel your way around. the power of systematic action in every form, in every area of life, cannot be disputed. it is necessary in creating lasting and continual effect. i am slowly beginning to figure out how to consistently achieve this. i am a scientist. trial and error. testing and concluding. challenged a times by my wandering procrastinating mind that settles into soft gray spaces and gets all too comfortable. breaking routine has proven the most beneficial and helpful thing, which is just plain ironic. breaking order to achieve order.

“At this time and at this period we must avail ourselves of this most great opportunity. We must not sit inactive for one moment; we must sever ourselves from composure, rest, tranquility, goods, property, life and attachment to material things. We must sacrifice everything to His Highness, the Possessor of existence, so that the powers of the Kingdom may show greater penetration and the brilliant effulgence of this New Cycle may illumine the worlds of minds and ideals.”

~ ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

You Haven’t Told Me Anything

In a pearl grey room one afternoon.
One afternoon, what you gonna do?
I hang on your words but there’s nothing new.

You take a beautiful thing, pull off a wing.
Pull of a wing; safety pin.
It'll never shine quite as bright again.

But you haven’t told me anything,
that I didn’t already know.
No you haven’t said a single thing,
that I didn’t already know.

Everything I love’s stuck in the mud.
Stuck in the mud, stuck in a rut.
I’m a piece in your puzzle or a paper cut.

So same time next week, kiss on the cheek,
kiss on the cheek; say after me:
“Everything’s tied up nice and neat.”

But you haven’t told me anything,
that I didn’t already know.
No you haven’t sold me anything,
that I didn’t already own.

I feel for you, I really do.
Nothing adds up like you want it to.
No words can mend this fix I’m in.
Give me your worst I won’t even blink,
right between the eyes I won't feel a thing.

Because you haven’t told me anything,
that I didn’t already know.
No you haven’t said a single thing,
that I didn’t already know.

No you haven’t told me anything...
No you haven’t told me anything...

No you haven’t told me anything...
No you haven’t told me anything...

~ Keane

Vent for the Day

Yelling and screaming is barbaric, really. The most unnatural thing. Even worse, the ear-full I get on the phone. We are so passed that point, really. There isn't enough fuel to run that engine. I will be the bad guy if it makes it easier to let go. But let go you must. Of anger, of pain, of everything. Be calm. Be sane. Be kind. Be human, for Christ's sake. Who the hell has the energy anyway?

For Me

It is 1:47am and not a wink of sleep will be had until surely 3:30am. My new schedule. It doesn't pester me anymore. It just is. A welcoming offer and I accept. Touche my dear little night that won't let go of me. You must really enjoy my company. While everyone else rest peacefully in silence, you beckon me to play, to write, to fumble, to read, to sift, to search. Tonight is for me. The other nights I might have dedicated creativity to the world. But tonight, it is for me. The beginnings of a song emerge. And for the first time in a long time, there is no judging. Is it catchy? Well-paced? Interesting chord progression? Connected message? It is simply a little gem waiting for me in my cut out. Little nugget of truth and life patiently sitting for me to indulge. And I will, tonight.

Quick Pause

At a crossroad. Where will this path lead? Once closer to my dreams? My destiny? To the truth of my purpose on this existent plane, I hope. I move. Movement will attract guidance. The Truth is my guiding compass through the thick of time. Fleeting moments countdown. No room for procrastination here. Must stay open. Must stay open. Must stay open. I must tell myself that. It's all too easy for me to fall off. Both a weakness and a strength. Must stay open. I buckle up. It's the safe thing to do. I grab hold of the handle. It will brace me as I propel. Swelling joy bubbles inside. Bursts through me...yeeeeeehaaaaaw!

Let’s Begin

A shower always brings me back to life. I've come to realize when you work from home strange things can happen. Your days begin to run together. Your routine is lost. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?? I was supposed to have time to make time for everything else. And sure, I'm used to being up the wee hours of the night. It's always been that way. But dang! 4am? 5am? I cannot for the life of me seem to go to bed at a decent hour lately. I've tried staying up all through the night into the next day in the hopes that come 9pm, 10pm, my eyes would start to get heavy and I'd have gathered up enough expounded energy, to close my eyes and sleep soundly through the night. Hasn't worked. When was 3 hours sleep enough for me to function? Don't seem to recall that one. Oh yeah, NEVER, that's when.

Dear Stranger,

Do something impavid today. Be heroic and grand. Or simple and quiet. Get the shit kicked out of you. Or better, get your heart broken. Pick up the phone and call someone you keep meaning to. Turn the tv off. Play a song in a different key. Send an email out of the blue. Listen to a random station. Wish someone a happy birthday and be months off. Open a book anywhere in the middle and find some meaning in it. Be scared and face it. Seek rejection and relish in its lesson. Regroup. Rethink. Refeel. Relive. Then, live anew. 

pa•tience –noun

1. the quality of being patient, as bearing of provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint, loss of temper, irritation, or the like.

2. an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay: to have patience with a slow learner.

3. quiet steady perseverance; even-tempered care; diligence: to work with patience.

4. bearing pains or trials calmly or without complaint

5. manifesting forbearance under provocation or strain

6. not hasty or impetuous

7. steadfast despite opposition, difficulty, or adversity

8. able or willing to bear

This

The human touch is something you don't realize you miss until it's gone. However, this is not the touch I am so compelled to describe. No, not just any touch. The touch. I witnessed it for the first time with this guy and girl at the airport a couple days ago. They were dressed in what might be classified as the ‟unkempt hippie look” and I proceeded to categorize them as organic food-eating, anti-soap, anti-establishment, anti-anything modern world individuals, something I reluctantly admit now. And while they very well may have been those things, it was not for me to unravel or judge. What is the need man has to box things in? This must be eliminated. Anyways, what really struck me the most about them was their exchange with one another. It was shocking, really. Not because it was coming from them, but the act itself would've shocked most observant individuals. The exchange didn't involve an overt display of tongue or a rubdown that might merit a ‟get a room” rebuttal. No, this exchange was so clear. So pure. So subtle. She was sitting across from him at a table situated in front of the bistro stand at gate 37. He spoke and between sentences would occasionally drop his head boyishly and look up at her with grinning admiration from beneath his perfectly round spectacles. He looked at her as though she were a majestic sunset, with utter devotion and contemplation. I am always moved when a man can do this. Women often display gestures of this nature easily. But I so adore this sentiment coming from a man. She grinned back at him. Some words were exchanged. I imagined it was something to the effect of “I'll go get it. You stay here.” And then it happened. The exchange. She stood to her feet and before she parted to the vending machine or snack stand to get whatever had created this moment, she walked over to him. She sat softly on the edge of his lap, and gave him the most endearing kiss on the cheek and then, the warmest embrace I've ever witnessed between two people was shared. When she hugged him, her hands did not merely gather around his neck. She slowly grabbed the back of his head and intertwined her fingers around it. He gently brushed the strands of hair behind her ear. She cupped his cheek in her hand while hers met the other side of his face. He nestled his head in the warmth curvature of her neck and gave her a gentle kiss. It was breathtaking. Something I've never before seen. Yes, one sees people hug and kiss everyday. We are bombarded daily by images and characters of romance and love, lust and sex. But this was something else. Something different. Something of another kind. Perhaps not ever captured in even the most romantic of movies or pictures. It was enchantment. The kind of uninhibited embrace. At one moment it was unclear if she would return. Perhaps they were taking two separate flights and this was the final goodbye before she walked to her own gate. Yet, the beauty was in that this was not a last goodbye. No two-flight-farewell. Just simplicity. For the only reason. There was peace and calm between them. A love that beamed. I was listening to ‟Black Tables” by Other Lives at that moment and it became a soundtrack for the love story I was witnessing. The water began to swell. Lost in their romance. It was clear to me that one mustn't settle for anything less. Yes, I want the service partner, the pioneer companion, the best friend, the lover, and...this.

Day 348

Writing a song can sometimes come easily and sometimes not so much. Most of the time not so much! I've been stashed away in my apartment the last two weeks trying to write (mind you, I almost work from home now, so it's much easier to fall off). I've closed myself to the world outside in an effort to focus on the world inside, and tap into whatever emotions therein lie. It's a daunting challenge, so I take breaks every so often. Go out into the world, attend and participate in community activities, live life a bit, observe people, and then come back and lock myself up once more to process. I haven't this down to any science yet by no means. Yet, I am experimenting in an effort to find the science. It's interesting. Lonely too. I haven't given up the thought though that if I can get just one good song out of this, it will be worth it. Perhaps one good song becomes the foundation of the album which to build the rest around? So shall we see what is written.