change

I think how quickly things have changed for me. But that’s the personality of change, isn’t it? When it’s slow, it’s called growth; when it’s fast, it’s change. And God, how things change: some things, nothings, anythings, everythings…all the things change.” | David Arnold, Mosquitoland

When I was growing up, I was terrified of anything that would invoke change in my life. The simplest thing, like painting my bedroom, would cause me to panic. Every eve of the first day of school I would spend the day pacing the halls of my childhood home and the evening wrapped in my mother’s arms. Anything to help the nerves. It seems a little silly now.

David Arnold knew what he was talking about. Everything changes. Each day is a change in it of itself. Even the mundane ones. There are the days where we walk boldly in the face of change. But, then their are the monumental days that force change upon us. Someone we love passes away. It’s like a winged letter of change has been dropped at your doorstep. Signed. Sealed. Delivered in all of it’s pain.

I think that the one thing that I have learned despite the fact that change can still knock me off my feel. There are no shortcuts in life, particularly when it comes to growing up, and change is all part of that. It just amuses me that I was and still am a little terrified of something that I am surrounded by day-in and day-out. Maybe it’s the lack of control when it comes to certain changes, Or the fact that everything can change in a simple blink of the eye. Maybe I’m just rambling.

Maybe life is just built upon the foundation of changes and the ever-changing tomorrow for our “somethings, nothings, anythings and everythings.”

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my vow to vinyl

 

Last year for my 21st birthday my dad gifted me an amazing Crosley record player. Record players make music feel more raw, more natural and for that I had always wanted one. I was so high with excitement when my eyes saw this beautiful suitcase-esque record player that I could call my very own. However, for the past year I have used it very sparingly and I only have a handful of records that I actually listen to. See, I rummaged through my dad’s old collection and most of the music I am not that interested in. So, I have made a new vow.

I vow to purchase a new vinyl record with every paycheck. Vinyl that I am really invested in, or vinyl that I am just curious to listen to further. The beauty of record players is you must listen to a record from first song to last: the way that albums were intended to be listened to. I vow to choose artists that I am simply curious about, and artists that I have am unconditionally fond of.

Not only will this little “resolution” of mine help to expand my record collection and reignite new music in my life, but it will also support the artists. Illegal downloading of music is great and all, but only for the consumer. What about the musicians? The musicians are the one’s who put their blood, sweat and tears into the creation of their album. But, many fail to reap the benefits.

I vow to support music. I vow to support musicians. This is my vow to vinyl.

let’s talk love

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Love is such a strange idea. 

I used to think that love was a mere falsity created by the media that gave people something to yearn for and ache for, but never truly achieve. For it did not exist, or so I thought. I was so troubled with concept that something couldn’t be defined in words. What do you mean “You just feel it?” That always struck me as too abstract or just too unrealistic. Everything has to be able to be put into words … right? 

I remember when I “fell in love” for the first time. I was eighteen years old, and I was whisked off my feet. I became so whisked that my feet were no longer planted firmly on the ground and my head was no longer fastened on tight, but loose and in the clouds. I paid no witness to all the times he told me “change this,” “don’t do that,” “just look at yourself,” etc. I thought that he was looking out for me by making little changes to me. He forced me to become more productive, more type A, and less creative … less me. While he literally pulled the whiskey away from my lips and said “no,” what he was really doing was pressing the whiskey bottle against my lips and saying “drink until you can’t think for yourself anymore.” I was intoxicated under his control, his demands and his lack of mercy. He morphed me into a version of myself that I am still, to this day, ashamed of. A person with no voice, is not a person at all. He took away my voice, and my ability to speak for myself. In my head I would always asked myself why love was so hard, and why love was so demanding, exhausting and physically harming. I asked myself everyday “Why do people want this?” 

For two years after that relationship I took time for myself. I had to relearn who I was, because he had taken it with him. Every morning I would wake up, walk to my desk and journal my one goal for that day. Sometimes it was as simple as smile or listen to your favorite song. It seems so silly, looking back, that those were feats for me. But, over time I figured it out. I figured out me. I became an avid yogi, I studied harder than I ever had, I transferred schools, I made new friends, I wrote new music …

… I started over. 

All of this brings me to the person that I am today. And also, the person that I am with today. While my first run-in with this undefinable feeling left me face first and ass up in the dirt, this is different. Oh, so very different. He looks at me in a way that I have never been looked at. Even when I look at him from across the room, it’s just us. He has not once asked me to change anything about myself. He embraces me for me, quirks included. And, I hope that he knows that I would do just about anything for him. 

I’ve realized that love is not an undefinable feeling, but an act. Every day, we both have to work, reach out to one another and let them know we care. Love is an unconditional act of care, compassion and adoration for another person. It doesn’t cease to exist the moment they frustrate you or test your temper. The underpinnings of love can never fade. I’m happy to say that my feet, with him, are firmly on the ground, my head is fastened and I’m thinking clearly. For I know that everything about this is right. I’m terrified of realizing how open my heart is to him. But there it is.

I know why people want this. It’s intoxicating in the best way possible: a little bit numbing, refreshingly genuine and extremely exhilarating. 

Love is strange. 

 

musical nonsense

A few weeks ago I sat down to write a new song. I hadn’t written one in a while and it felt like it was time to add another piece to my repertoire. I scribbled down a series of lyrics that sounded beautiful to me at the time. I plucked through a number of chords on my guitar that rang well with the words. 

I then paced back and forth in my room trying to make sense of it all. Back and forth I paced. I usually don’t write music this way. Usually, there is an intended purpose from the moment my pen hits paper and my fingers touch strings. I was so confused. I couldn’t even make sense of what I had just written. I then made the conscious decision to just not bother with it. What was the point in pinning a meaning onto something just for the sake of doing it? 

It wasn’t until last night when I played the song through for the first time for my boyfriend that it all made sense. While I would rather not get into the nitty gritty details of said song, I will say this … 

We are who we are.

We have all done things in our lives that we may not necessarily be proud of. Our past may be tainted with regret, but really all that ugly stuff has made us who we are today. I think I have a lot of people in my life who doubt themselves. They see things that they have done as mistakes, when in reality all of the things they have experienced have only shaped what remarkable people they are today. We may not want to think our past has the power to dictate our future, but it certainly has the power to shape it. Whether we are full of doubt or regret, we are who we are based upon the choices that we have made. And we all must learn to live with them. Think them not skeletons in the closet. Think not cruelly of them. Don’t become full of frustration or aggression toward them. You chose to have them in your life, and you chose to be rid of them. So do that. Be rid of it. Be proud of the steps you’ve taken, and only continue to make them. Let your life go on. 

“So we are, what we are, and will be. 

So we know, what we knew all the while, 

There’s no rest in this race round ourselves 

Just the crown, and the unending trial.” 

 

 

 

Quote

this way

“Think of it this way,”  said Hemholtz. “Our aim is to make the world more beautiful than it was when we came into it. It can be done. You can do it.”

A small cry of despair came from Jim Donnini. It was meant to be private, but it pierced every ear with its poignancy.

“How?” said Jim.

“Love yourself,” said Hemholtz, “and make your instrument sing about it.”

-An excerpt from “The Kid Nobody Could Handle” by Kurt Vonnegut