A Little Lower than Literature...

...but still some great reads!

I've been reading a fair amount lately, as the written word can be so wholly-engrossing, to keep my brain stimulated and to help lighten my heavy heart. I finally finished up Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon, about a World War II nurse mystically transported to 1700s Scotland. If I understand correctly, this is the book responsible for popularizing the literary genre of "time traveling romance." Well, it was pretty good, although it ended a bit abruptly and without satisfaction - no doubt to entice readers to grab its sequel, "Dragonfly in Amber". I am not so excited to start that book, as the friend who recommended the series to me is presently upset with me and being intentionally distant, so...I won't really have anyone to discuss the next novel with.

Also, I've gotten myself wrapped up in another series: the Sookie Stackhouse novels, by Charlaine Harris. These books, which are the basis for the popular HBO series "TrueBlood", are a quick and captivating read. Also, having seen three seasons of the television show, it is interesting to note the many differences. In a way, it is that rare example of the transition from page to screen adding more content instead of cutting this. A lot of it has to do with the narrative structure and first-person perspective of the novels; every book is told from the perspective of Sookie, so all of the scenes involving other characters that form the numerous subplots of the HBO series are either absent altogether or are mentioned in past-tense to Sookie. But overall, they are very enjoyable - vampires, shape-shifters, and telepaths - oh my!

Well, that is what I have been up to; that and writing a couple of new songs. I guess I'll get back to it. Hopefully I'll have a good Wednesday War Story to tell tomorrow, but in the meantime, I will be enjoying Sookie's vampiric escapades.

We Interrupt This Regularly-Scheduled Broadcast...

...to bring you a kitty!

I brought her home from the shelter on Tuesday, and she has hardly stopped purring since! It was kind of meant to be; I went looking for a smaller 8-week-old kitten, but the one I was looking at was taken. Curiously, while I was looking at the younger kitties, this slightly older black one in the next cage over was mewing at me. When they told me that the small gray guy I was holding had already been adopted, and was just awaiting pickup, I then went over to this little gal's cage to check her out...and she cautiously crept to my outstretched hand...then started enthusiastically loving on me! We totally bonded then, and I knew that I just had to have her...

...I've since named her Lily, and she's been following me around the house, only pausing her demands for petting and cuddling to eat, sleep, and explore. She's even been getting along great with our old-man kitty, Rowdy. We were worried he might feel that he was being 'replaced', but just this morning they were laying on the same chair, and he was grooming her!

Say it with me now: "AWWWWW!"

Do A Good Turn Daily

 

My preferred routine for writing this blog, typing it up earlier in the day following the first few cups of coffee,  was interrupted this morning by heading out to do a good deed. Frog and I had gotten word over the weekend that our close family friend was having car trouble - specifically, her sturdy grandma van wasn't starting. The problem had been ongoing, and even after getting a jump from our godly mutual friend, the battery would not hold a charge. 

She had planned to take the van to a mechanic, asking us only for a jump and a ride in to work. However, after looking the van over, we gauged that the most likely cause was simply a bad battery. We went ahead and gave her the ride to work, removed the old battery, and installed a new one. The Voyager roared its return to the realm of running automobiles, and I drove it over to the HUD apartment complex she manages. 

This lady is pretty selfless - working extra unpaid hours each week to go above and beyond in aid of the complex's mostly refugee population - and it was my pleasure to help her out this morning. I am an Eagle Scout, after all, and the 'scout slogan' is "do a good turn daily". Consider today covered!

Friday Illogical Ideations

1. I believe in ghosts, but not in the way you might expect. I think that when we actively remember a person who has passed, the chemicals and electricity in our brains making up the thoughts and memories related to that person form the 'ghost'. When we are faced with a decision and contemplate how the deceased would have handled it, or draw upon an inspirational person who is no longer living, that is the ghost 'speaking' to us. I know, kind of strange, but I am a strange person I guess. One of the songs I do, Shut Your Mouth, is my abrasive tribute to a fallen classmate and fellow veteran whose death was mocked and used as fodder for gossip by many of our more immature and insensitive peers; I like to think that live performances of this song are a kind of seance.

2. I've been struggling lately to find a good balance between promoting my music and being a pushy, tiresome, overly zealous used car salesman. On the one hand, if I do nothing to 'push' the tunes on people, no one is going to hear them. On the other, I have had a fair amount of people on the dreary facebook get upset at me for inviting them to all of our shows, and especially for posting about the shows on their profile. Ashlee"Pay attention to my blog that's all about promiscuous sex and my eating disorder so I can feel better about myself"Raggle even called me an internet troll and un-friended me because I 'shared' a couple of our show pages on her facebook wall. It's my belief that as an artist I have a bit more leeway that the average huckster. That is what I consider my music - art. I do like to have a good time when playing, and I hope the audience does, but I go to great lengths to write meaningful lyrics, and I aspire to write interesting, creative, worthwhile music as well. For me it is about something very different than just shaking asses, impressing babes with swagger, and getting free drinks.

3. In the same vein at the previous item, I have often been accused (lately even more so) of taking myself, life, and generally everything too seriously. I am constantly being told to lighten up, take it easy, get a thicker skin, not to worry about things, to stop making a big deal out of it, et cetera, etc. There have been some situations that were supremely frustrating, because these were things that I felt really deserved to be 'taken seriously', yet my carefree companions kept to their lackadaisical disposition and continued to encouraged me to do the same. A prime example: several months back while on a weekend shooting trip, the guys were doing several things that violate the four basic weapons safety rules, and when I stopped them to give them some instruction, they kept interrupting me with funny anecdotes about shooting accidents...all while they continued to wave their guns around with fingers on the trigger (although I had made them unload prior to my safety lecture). Now I am not trying to lay judgement on those dudes, I certainly wasn't trying to ruin their fun, and one of them did eventually speak up on my behalf and helped to reign in the others. But it was my strong impression that when I insisted on shutting down the shooting to give them a safety talk, they were thinking something like "Oh god, here he goes again. I've handled guns a lot before, why can't he just lighten up?" But seriously - that is how people get accidentally shot! Oh well...I am probably just over thinking all of this and taking it all too seriously.

War Story Wednesday: Panic! at the Garden

What with yesterday being the eleventh anniversary of 'September 11th', it is taking a great deal of my willpower to resist flying off the handle and writing out a manic diatribe indicting all of the people who pay lip service to 'the troops' and tragedy to make it look like they care. So, instead, I will share an anecdote from my recent life that can perhaps give you some insight into why I get so incised and consumed with the desire to go on mouth-foaming rants.

Last week, at the monthly First Friday 'community gathering' (because wine-fueled hippie party doesn't have quite the same ring), some hooligans used the giant sunflowers surrounding the garden as cover to lob apples into the crowd. Maybe they were just some teenagers getting kicks but the community garden there has been the target of some criticism lately regarding said giant sunflowers obstructing sight lines, making the intersection unsafe for motorists, so I suspect perhaps these were aggressively shitty and spectacularly immature activist cowards. The first time that their projectile produce came down on the crowd, I thought perhaps ripe apples were merely falling naturally from a tree. When one hit me in the shoulder, with a clearly thrown-not-falling trajectory, I realized that there is no apple tree in the garden.

Now, I am all for shenanigans, tomfoolery, and semi-illegal, good, clean fun. But when I was the only one actually hit with a projectile, and no one else around me even noticed, I felt like a target under attack...by indirect fire. Now, as my fellow veterans of that certain hostile-takeover-but-its-not-about-the-oil can surely attest, indirect fire was a near-constant occurrence that became very unnerving over time. Sure, the further one gets into a deployment, the less they seek cover when mortars come flying into their base. But the constant harassing attacks, by an unseen enemy that you are unable to return fire on, cause a lot of frustration and feelings of helplessness. It was that frustration, and also the fact that everyone around me was oblivious to the incoming fruit bombs, that made me acutely feel my differences from 'normal' people.

I felt suddenly like the butt of a very cruel joke, that not only had I been assaulted via food, but that if I made others aware of what had happened, they would merely reprimand me for being uptight - which some asshole did when I informed the hostess what had happened. It is this kind of thing that I have to deal with all the time - not just the panic attacks, the subtle flashbacks, the difficulty in social interactions that stems from an acute knowledge of mortality and human frailty - no, it isn't just that, or the difficulties other people have relating to it. It is the constant stream of condescending claims that people do understand and care, the laughter that erupts when an unexpected BANG sends me sprawling onto the ground, and worst of all - that people see me react to being threatened and then somehow jump to the conclusion that I am dangerous.

If you really want to 'support the troops' how about taking down your yellow ribbon sticker, and instead, just be in your veterans' lives without trying to fix them. Thank you, that is all.

##END DIATRIBE##

Monday Methuselahn Musings

So I've mentioned my affinity for Vampires before, from reading about them in the novels of Anne Rice to role playing them in Vampire: The Masquerade. What I have not revealed until now is that in my strange brain, the mythical immortal bloodsucker functions as a great analogy for how I perceive myself and my close friends in relation to all of the human masses. Sounding weird? It goes like this:

• Vampires are forever mourning and trying to reclaim their lost humanity, to the point of becoming 'more human than human', loving more deeply and feeling loss more keenly than mere mortals. While I have not (yet) been accosted in a dark alley, drained of my vitae, and doomed to a life of eternal hunger and darkness...I have experienced a few major tragedies which have left me feeling, at times, distant from the happily well adjusted masses.
• Preternatural senses are usually attributed to vampires, ranging from merely heightened human sight and hearing all the way up to near god-like omniscience via telepathy. I have often been accused of being hyper-sensitive, usually with a negative connotation, but I believe this to be one of my greatest strengths and the source of my artistic insight.
• Another common ability of vampires across folklore and fiction is the ability to hypnotize or otherwise influence humans. This is a bit of a stretch, but I feel like I sometimes 'hypnotize' (or at least thoroughly confound) people with my music, or more simply when I turn on the charm.
• Being powerful immortals, fueling their great power by literally sucking the life out of others, these are creatures possessed of great physical strength. While I am not going to win any weight-lifting contests, in moments of distress or anger I am able to summon up a level of strength far beyond what my small body would suggest. Just ask my friends: you are probably only going to snap me with a towel or engage in some other variation of 'grab-ass' with me once, because doing so will bring down my altogether frightening and surprising wrath.
• Finally, vampires are usually depicting as being very well dressed, albeit in an old school way. While I am not clinging to the styles of old in an attempt to stay connected to a former existence in a bygone era, I do embrace the classics of style, and look with disdainful pity on those who get swept up in the passing trends.

Now, I want to be clear - I am not delusional, I don't desire to consume blood, nor do I (ultimately) believe that I am really all that different or better than anyone else. Rather, I believe that The Vampire is a relatable monster...a character with which I am able to consistently identify. At least the sexy, stylish, beautifully-tortured-soul kind, lamenting each kill while simultaneously acknowledging that nature is a far deadlier mistress.

"It'll Pass Away in a Slow Parade..."

Well. A lot has been going on, and none of it particularly good. I won't go into too much detail, as I have neither the time nor presumption to explain everything. The short version is: Mr. Bombs is in the hospital. That is the big thing. A smaller bummer would be that my second show in Lincoln fell through.

So I am going to just go ahead and declare the "Greyhound Runaround Vaca-tour" OVER.

"...that's leaving, I just don't know how soon."

Thoroughly Rocked-Out Thursday

The full-on Rock'n'Roll schedule doesn't particularly lend itself to making regularly and timely blog posts, I've found. My days in Tucson this past week have generally started around noon, with a pretty consistent morning routine of coffee, cigarettes, and some combination of television and acoustic guitar practice. I'll start to get my act together around three or four in the afternoon, making calls and packing up gear, and head downtown anywhere from 5-7:00 PM. Then it is rock-out time for Mr. Bombs and I, or he'll have rehearsal with HAIRSPRAYFIREANDGIRLS...or maybe one of the other bands that share the practice space will have rehearsal. I've taken to calling the practice space the "Rock Office," "Office of Rocking Out," and other similarly silly epithets.

The photo above is of the band Secret Meetings, an excellent band featuring a husband/wife bassist/vocalist team and the HAIRSPRAY Joshes. Mister Bombs is going to be doing some recording for them this Saturday, and I'll get to play assistant engineer. The plan is to isolate the amps, so that a live recording of the whole band will have each instrument on a channel for mixing. Noah and I recorded takes of two of my songs that way, but we haven't really listened to them. Speaking of Noah and I rocking out, our show this past Sunday was incredible! The touring bands Olsen Twinns and Little Ruckus made the dance a party! The whole show was laid back, low key, and relaxed, but, also totally punk rock at the same time. Mister Bombs and I were very well received as the openers - the songs were much more rock than dance, but the all-ages audience of roughly twenty were into the music and took all of my remaining demos. Somehow, the touring incarnation of 'Genre Zero' (AKA: Me, playing under the band name which was made by Robb, the Doctor...of drums...the instrument being played by Mister Bombs, who is usually one of the best guitar players around and created some Fruity Loops, simple synth backup tracks that we played with for 2 songs) fit just right. Before the pop-punk-dance bands, Donut Shop Death (AKA: Mari Safari) played a set of frosted-flake-level g-g-great punk songs, like I am talking Weezer-level good. She also used a backtrack for her songs, prompting Mister Bombs to ask if she might want him as a drummer at her next show. Then Olsen Twinns and Little Ruckus taught us all about Sweat Power - go to their show and you can find out, too. To close the evening down, gracious host and undisputed most-enthusiastic-dancer Mullarkey retired some of his Run On Sunshine songs by performing them post-dance, outside in the misty sprinkles, and a-Capella. Awesomely great songs about cats and life in Austin MadMatt generously drove our gear and helped us with the load in-and-out. You remember his awesome bus, right:

There is a very 'artsy' panorama wherein the frames totally don't line up but, everyone who was there is in a frame: The Gals checking out the cool stuff taped up inside the bus in the blue, MaddMatt driving in the dark red, and me grimacing in a silly way that I meant to say "Party in the Bus"...but just looks scary. Tuesday after Geeks Who Drink, we all went to check out Matt's new pad:

Tonight, the Electric Blankets (who also share the practice space) are playing a benefit show / roast of Tyler, a friend of theirs who was jumped and beaten just a few blocks from 4th Avenue, the bar district in Tucson. He had several bones in his face broken, jaw split...all for telling some guys to leave a lady alone who was trying to tell them to get lost. Someone got mad at me when I was busking, and luckily I escaped a savage beating, but Tucson is a rough-and-tumble kind of town...

These kinds of shenanigans like rehearsing for shows, going to shows, playing in shows, hanging out with all my old friend in a party bus...well, they last until 3-4:00 AM, and sometimes I'll still be up for a bit after that. Hard to find time for the morning blog write-up when I am going to sleep looking at the sunrise...

Bored; Need Bombs

Well, I've been busy living the Tucson nightlife; band rehearsals, bar-hops, the Geeks who Drink Quiz. MadMatt has been kind enough to drive me around in his Volkswagon Bus-o-Awesome, Stella. Of course, my main man G Money has been carting me around plenty as well, and we've been practicing the songs at least once a day. Also, I wrote a new song about life on the road and it is inspired by all of my dear friends. It has been so deeply inspirational, humbling, and motivating to see so many of my closest and best people, even though we're now scattered across the country. Also, I have met a lot of really great people through my friends...and now we are all cross-country friends with each other!

Here is one of the old-gang reunion photos:

This already made the rounds on facebook, but, who knows...I might have to delete that again if I get too excited! You can see Matt's bus behind us.

 Also this week, Matt took me around showing me some of the best graffiti art around town. Tucson is pretty spectacular in that there are large swathes or town where you can't go a single block without seeing a psychedelic mural, a graffiti collage,  or some other excellent piece of art:

I really like how the artist used the decaying bricks as teeth! We're trying to put together a video (!!) to show off a bunch of the cool public art in Tucson, so keep your fingers crossed...

Kitteh Weekend Bonus Edition

If you love cats like my friends and I do, if you have a soft and pliant sweet spot for our fastidiously furry friends, then you'll want to check out The Kitty Comp from Burger Records. An adorable feral stray was rescued after being run over behind a California cassette-tape label, and the story just reminded me so much of our long-gone family dog Cisco that I had to share it. Cisco was thrown out of the back of an SUV in front of my mother's office in Tucson along with his five or so litter mates. The disowning driver then actually reversed a bit to get pointed out of the parking lot, gunned the gas, and ran over all but two of the puppies. I wasn't there, but my mother relayed the story to me, her having rescued the two survivors. A coworker took one pup and Mom brought home the second, Cisco - who was much-beloved for years in Tucson and now rests faithfully beneath our SLC herb garden. So maybe the Kitty-Comp and my nostalgia is comparing cats and dogs, but the compilation tapes aren't no-account doghouse jams. There is previously unreleased material from Ryan Adams, among many talented others:

I've had the pleasurable good fortune of meeting several interesting cats during my travels. Remember the green-thumbed friends I made in Lincoln? They have an unassuming house-cat that leisurely greeted each guest in turn before settling in at her own spot within the conversation circle. I hadn't quite figured out how to work my camera's flash back on July 4th, and the image was too dark to see, so I messed with the colors of the picture similar to the stylized band pictures on my old MySpace page:

 

Also in Lincoln was the Game Room store cat, who was friendly enough to crawl up my clothes in search of loves:

Most recently, here in Tucson, are the catty companions of some of my dearest. Meet Gabby; she's a little bit skittish, but will warm up to you eventually. Here she is hanging outside, talking cat-trash with a neighborhood stray on the other side of the fence:

Inside, her younger gal-pal is taking a break from it all:

Enjoy your weekend!

Texas Express

Well my relaxing time in Austin is over, and I am presently waiting to board the bus that will carry me across Texas, back to the West, and into Tucson. I owe a huge thank-you to all of my extended family in Austin, and an apology to those in the Austin area that I wasn't able to connect with. From picking me up at the airport, introducing me to other musicians, and getting me to my two small shows...well, Austin isn't a very easy place to get around, and I genuinely appreciate the family support.

Thank you to my aunt for for being so nice and helpful. She turned me on to her extensive rubber stamp collection, so that I could class up the Genre Zero demos:

She also put on a private all-ages show in her house; it was somehow very different yet also very similar to the house shows in Lincoln. Basement music: Westlake suburbs style! I was hamming it up good for the children, and I think they enjoyed it:

It was a really good show, actually! I pushed my musical boundaries in a way that I haven't in a while, what with being able to fully indulge in the possibilities present in a rock n' roll band. I learned some hymns to play on the piano, which I think my aunt's church friends appreciated, and those were really fun to sing. Really good melodies, and challenging too; one refrain's lilting and lyrical melody line wound its way through my whole vocal range. The acoustics in the piano room and nearby living room, which the audience overflowed to, were excellent.

I am still trying to throw together a second leg of the tour; hopefully something in Vegas that maybe some of the band can come down to, then it is looking like a stop back through SLC (and potentially a show at Sun & Moon cafe), I'm trying to get some things going in Lincoln so as to stop back through there, relatives in Ada Oklahoma are putting something together, and then maybe my new musical friends in Austin can turn me on to something. For now, it is off to Tucson to put together the Sky Bar show. Rock on!

Leaving Lincoln

Wow! The whirlwind fun of Lincoln is finally, sadly, over. It was actually very embarrassing, the way that I didn’t want to leave and how I scrambled around trying to savor even the last minutes of my time there. I am glad that after a week hanging around the Bolzen Compound, I hadn’t fully worn out my welcome. I felt like I was starting to a bit, like the seeds of expectation and resentment had been planted and were starting to grow, and like my gentleman’s courtesy was gradually becoming either just rote niceties or falling away completely in the wake of familiarity. For example: right at the very end, I was trying to say my heartfelt goodbyes, but I was distracted worrying about my luggage and things...I even got called out on it; someone was trying to say their heartfelt goodbye back to me, but I kind of ruined the moment.

I think we all understood and shared the feelings of exhaustion, awkwardness, and bittersweet anticipation that are attendant on the end of the temporary. Still, I cannot say thank you enough to my hosts, so here we go again:
Thank you Brian and Jandi for your epic hospitality!

In my continuing quest to improve myself, or more specifically to improve the effect  I have on the world around me and the people in it, I learned a lot. This past week in Nebraska, meeting new people and experiencing a different rhythm of life, really changed a lot of my outlook. It was such a breath of fresh air, not to say anything bad about SLC, that I am leaving Lincoln with an improved perspective.

Onwards and upwards!

Quick Musings on Nerdy Activities

So yesterday was a pretty good day. First of all, my old Scoutmaster from Tucson and his wife stopped by, as they are traveling up to Montana. We reminisced about our (sometimes) scandalously bad-ass boy scout troop, and traded tales of their youngest son, who is couple years older than me and was one of my clique's anti-role-models.

Then I was joined by my friend, and Genre Zero drummer, for my introduction into the "Game of Thrones" card game. It was pretty fun - although I think my basic starter deck was a little underpowered compared to his - those rich Lanister bastards! It's a pretty solid CCG, with some well-functioning original game mechanics that deviate (in a good way) from the now-standard Magic: The Gathering card game model.

After that, we went to an indoor archery range. I haven't shot a bow in over a decade...in fact, maybe not since I was actually in the boy scouts.

Graduation Weekend Pictures

Last weekend, despite all the highfalutin' purchasing and talk of cameras, there were sadly few pictures taken. My uncle was, however, the dedicated photo-journalist. The many pictures and movies he was taking throughout the weekend left with him, sadly, and I only have a few that my family managed to snap. Above is a panoramic taken at "This is the Place" state park, where we took my aunt Lynn last Friday. Below is the sea of graduates:

I am in the far group, across the aisle. I sat in the fourth row from the front, a couple seats in from the aisle, with a friend who was graduating with an arts administration degree. It was really nice to have a buddy to go through the ceremony with...you rock Shan!

And finally, here I am with my mom (awww!):

"..."

Well I walked in the commencement ceremony on Saturday, had an excellent party, got my band shut down by the cops, moved the party to a friend's house...

...and I am still a little bit too stunned to know what to say.

All I can really put together is: Thank you!

Thank you to everyone who has helped me get so far. Thank you to my family and friends for your kindness and generosity.

I have a lot to do...

"Naw, I cannae work that, no way, naw..."

Life has been busy, getting everything ready for all of the celebrations surrounding my college graduation. We got a fancy new camera, which I am still learning to use, though most of its controls are fairly intuitive. I think I have a good enough understanding of the controls, and that it is a good enough camera, that I can run my mother through some of its cool features and she'll be taking good pictures. I messed around and took several hasty panoramas of the loft; these are the best:

I also got some good shots of the chickens. Here is Mother Helen (her namesake is the Reverend Mother Helen Gauis Mohiam from Dune), cleaning up with a nice cool dirt bath:

I am off to continue cleaning, rearranging, and preparing for this weekend. I have an aunt flying in this afternoon to pick up from the airport, also. I might even take some more pictures along the way - they can use their "1,000 words" to do the talking, and I can be lazy!

A Grand Plan

So while 'blog' is short for "biographical log" to the best of my knowledge, I want mine to read a little less like a diary and more like an informative news source and how-to guide. I am planning to refine my design and strategy a bit, focusing on the subjects I know best and am actively involved with in my day to day life. Things like:

Music
Gardening
Community Service
Men's Fashion

I would like to have recurring weekly posts on these subjects, especially following projects that I have going, like the garden and the loft, and my songwriting of course. There are certainly plenty of style blogs, but, I have a nice take on things I think - and like I said, I want my blog to be a little more instructional. So not just 'here is my outfit, look at it' but, like, 'here is how I found this at the thrift store' and 'here are the steps I take to clean and care for my fancy clothes'.

So, yeah...be on the lookout for new developments!

"The Days Fly Away..."

So here we are on a slightly chilly Monday morning...here I thought that it was only going to get hotter and hotter. The loft collects all of the heat in the house; luckily we built in an exhaust fan behind a kick-ass trap door. Haven't needed to use that the past couple of days, what with this cold spell.

Not too cold to stop putting our garden in. Yesterday we planted a couple extra tomatoes we got from a friend, to supplement those we already had in, and also put in a bunch of seeds - squash, beans, zucchini, melons. Also a hundred or so onions from a 'set' we purchased. I've got a few more melons and such to put in the ground today. Oh, we also got another blueberry and another raspberry, and, it turns out that a blackberry plant and a grape plant we put in last year survived when we had written them off. Bonus!

So I've been playing a lot of music, naturally, and I've got three or so new songs in the works. Not a lot of lyrics yet. I'm not sure what I want to write about. I forgot to mention on my post on songwriting the other day that sometimes the easiest lyrics flow when you write about some subject or thing or place or object, and do it objectively. Or you try to be objective, and just write a song about, oh I dunno...cars? Trains? Mountains? Those kinds of songs are much easier than "I have this feeling I can't name and I want to somehow express it." Also it is painfully easy to write songs about girls, hence why people come up to me after Genre Zero shows to say "I haven't heard anyone playing a bunch of love songs in a while". Some of my songs in that vein are pretty good, but, yeah...I want to write about something else. I haven't had a significant love interest in, gosh, years? I can still think of random girls I've met and imagine something to sing about...but, yeah...I think broader horizons would be better.

So have a happy Monday, blogosphere. I've got a bunch of stuff to do.

Lazy Inspiration

I am feeling a little lazy and uninspired when it comes to writing up a post today. I thought of several topics I could post on, but alas, I don't really feel prepared to do them the justice I feel they deserve. I think it is better to wait and have some pictures and things. Perhaps later in the week I will get to doing those posts: the garden, the finished (mostly) loft, and some bits on menswear.

For today, I want to share some inspiring ideas that I've collected recently:

"Aspire to embody honesty and humility without  guilt or shame"

I hold honesty in high regards. I've often said the truth is never wrong; it may be uncomfortable, even offensive, but if it is really the truth, it is not false or bad. Still, I all too frequently withhold the truth out of fear of some potential backlash. While I tend to think of myself as quite humble, more often than not the truth of my self image is based more on fear of rejection and shame - my humility isn't really genuine, because I am not feeling confident and valuable but not arrogant, I am simply diminishing myself and wallowing in self pity. Not so hot. Speaking of humility:

"Humility is not thinking of yourself as less than others; humility is thinking of yourself less"

So being humble doesn't mean that I have to feel bad about myself, carrying around guilt and shame and regret. That kind of poor self esteem actually makes things worse, as I might try desperately to demonstrate to everyone how I am so much less than they, how they needn't worry about me and my feelings. This is actually really dishonest behavior, coming from a self-serving motive. The 'truth' in those kinds of situations is that I feel bad about myself and look for others to prop me up.

A healthier perspective, I think, would be to have confidence and faith in myself and then, armed with a quiet and sure conviction of my qualities, act from a place of selflessness. With this true humility, it becomes easier to act with true honesty, because if you really are humble and you are aspiring to be fully honest, you don't need to fear the truth.

So let's all go forth and seek the truth without jealousy, shame, or hubris, and without apology...because the truth is never wrong!

He Who Hath the Steerage of my Course, Direct my Sail

"Most People try to live by self-propulsion. Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show; is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery, and the rest of the players in his own way. If his arrangements would only stay put, if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great. Everybody, including himself, would be pleased. Life would be wonderful. In trying to make these arrangements our actor may sometimes be quite virtuous. He may be kind, considerate, patient, gracious, even modest and self-sacrificing. On the other hand, he may be mean, egotistical, selfish and dishonest. But, as with most humans, he is more likely to have varied traits.

What usually happens? The show doesn't come off very well. He begins to think life doesn't treat him right. He decides to exert himself more. He becomes, on the next occasion, still more demanding or gracious, as the case may be. Still the play does not suit him. Admitting he may be somewhat at fault, he is sure that other people are more to blame. He become angry, indignant, self-pitying. What is his basic trouble? Is he not really a self-seeker even when trying to be kind? Is he not a victim of the delusion that he can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if only he manages well? Is it not evident to all the rest of the players that these are the things he wants? And do not his actions make each of them wish to retaliate, snatching all they can get out of the show? Is he not, even in his best moments, a producer of confusion rather than harmony?

Our actor is self-centered - ego-centric, as people like to call it nowadays...Whatever our protestations, are not most of us concerned with ourselves, our resentments, or our self-pity?

Selfishness - self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles. Driven by a hundred forms of fear, self-delusion, self-seeking, and self-pity, we step on the toes of our fellows and they retaliate. Sometimes the hurt us, seemingly without provocation, but we invariably find that at some point in the past we have made decisions based on self which later placed us in a position to be hurt."