Oh yeah, I'm awesome

Do you ever feel the universe speaking directly to you? That subtle reflection of your subconscious thought. The road signs that tell you exactly what you already know...or what you don't know you know, you know. Most of the time it's a little more than subtle for me. Like fucking sirens blasting in my face everywhere I turn until I just step through the door and come to life. And it's life itself that is calling me back this time. The world flipped back over to my side. About to make sense. About to say goodbye. About to say hello. Saved again. The big cycle continues and I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I'm the big love. I'm the giant undertow. There's nothing wrong with me, this is who I'm supposed to be. Back in the ring. Standing again. Smiling. My turn. Let me throw a punch.

Moderation?

I just don't when to shut up sometimes. I go from keeping my big mouth shut to making an ass of myself so very quickly. My brain seems to move very fast from one point to another and sometimes I miss the in-between part that may or may not contain pertinent information. Man, I'm an idiot sometimes.

Fields of gold

Digging deeper. To the root of it then. Back to the start of these heavy days. They started so much like children playing with fire, unaware of the danger and enticed by the excitement of touching real power. She was mine in no time, or rather, I was hers in no time. I was 16 years old and in love for the first time. She was 19, beautiful and dangerous. What beauty...everything about her made me weak. Magnetism. Rich and lush in the summer of freedom and adventure. It was early November of my senior year of high school when I found out she was pregnant, when I found out she had kept that from me for two months and I had to rearrange my life, my future. It took me some time to come to terms with that fact, but nevertheless I am just fine with that turn of events...without a doubt. Our son is the greatest treasure in either of our lives. When we moved to Maine in January that winter, it was my first great adventure, my first chance to be on my own and prove my worth. I did it with my head held high. I remember that trip like it was yesterday, driving across country in a pickup truck, 17 and scared, listening to music and seeing the northeast for the first time. I was in completely, we walked that line together, she and I together in love and determination. I was her man, her number one love and she was mine. We forged a life hand in hand. Then it happened. The hardest truth is that when our son was born, I was abruptly moved to second place in her life and I felt that deeply and it shook my foundation. We were married, we moved back to Idaho, another trip. I worked at a saw mill in much hardship and felt the slip from her most desperate love, to simply the father of her child. I fell into a depression and struggled to find other means of fulfilling my bleeding heart. Music came along and tried to fill the gap. I moved us to the east coast, to Virginia under the assumption of finding something more here to help with the now chronic hole in my untried heart. Instead our divide grew more disparaging. I worked more, she worked more. Deep and terrible depression came like waves of black on a endless sea. I rose from the waters tainted. Before my thought, my soul said "I will find love again, by any means necessary". Our financial stability took off, we had nice things, for a short period we started to make it work and it really felt like a good thing was happening. It probably was. But I believe we both had too much of some devil residing in us at that point. Our last sunny season turned so slowly, it was the Indian summer of our love when I started to build up my new band. When I felt so strong. When I felt the twinge of heartache again and moved on a selfish moment. When I slept with the other woman and made my mistake. When I doomed our lives together, if they hadn't been doomed all along. A few years went by after that incident, but nothing was the same. We were domestic partners with privileges. My heart turned toward still another who gave me what I needed in companionship if not in a physical sense...when she left, I was in serious trouble. We tumbled and spun farther away from each other in a terrible way. I was without a partner and I was responsible. I met someone and began the cycle again...so I took some time around another new year to make my decision. I felt the weight of the universe upon me. I felt the lies and demons within me try to take my life. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. To face her, to face all those demons, to face the lies. To be honest. It would have been easier to end myself. When I rose up to meet the truth, I saw them leave me, the shadows of the liar, when I cast them out. They are not welcome with me. I remember collapsing. I remember barely being able to breath. I remember feeling so very sorry for causing her pain. I remember feeling so very hurt. Maybe we were just too young and untried in life to take on such a huge struggle. We didn't mean to hurt anyone. The love I have for her is like a tattoo on my life, a permanence that will always shape my world, but it belongs to a distant past and different time. If apologies could make up for the sorrow, I would say I'm sorry, because I am. I hope in time we all find ourselves forgiven.

The best of you

They took from me, I gave to them all these pieces of me. I left pieces in places that I forgot. I find large parts that were abandoned by those who came and went. I demand the pieces that were stolen by force. I am back together. I'm putting them back in use. I am whole. I am complete today and I am taking my faith back, my complete heart, my complete soul. It's all mine and I have no reason to be sad anymore. My trust is my own. Some doors are locked and shut for all time. I am become something new. I have places to go and a new life to start. Enough time in this recoiled posisition! I'm breaking loose. I choose life. I refuse to give in. I refuse. Time to fucking move on.

A.R.K.

I found out today that you're a momma. It's wonderful...seriously, I am happy for you in all the good ways a person should be. I'm sure you'll be great at it, really great. Love's like that, over time it allows all things to be a blessing and I'm sure your little family is a good thing and I wish you nothing but the best. The other day, you popped into my head...a place you used to to occupy like an invading force, but it's been a while since those days. I thought, "I hope you're doing good. Miss you.". The story replayed again, like an old movie you used to watch all the time and then you watch it again for the first time in a long time...I guess I was young and dumb or full of myself when I met you. I remember your hair and your welcoming presence. I wanted you immediately, but I patiently waited years to have even a little bit of you. I remember asking you to come have lunch with me and how we just sort of started to always have lunch together. I remember laughing with you, sending IMs and working on projects with you. We spent some good times together in those days, even if they were confined to work for the most part. You were taking more and more space in my heart and I suppose I was doing the same in yours. I remember looking at you one day and something inside said "Oh no! I'm in love with her!" and that changed everything in my life. Too late. Fuck it, I'm glad. I remember 9:11. I guess I could have kept it to myself, but you would have got it out of me eventually anyway. I wasn't scared of being honest with you and I wear my emotion right on my sleeve anyway. So we were in love, and there was no way we could be. I had a family, you had a life, we didn't have a chance without disrupting too many lives and neither of us wanted to hurt anyone. Too late. You moved on and on in your outside life. I felt caged and grew more anxious and desperate to find a solution. When you left for 6 months, met your new man and put me 3000 miles behind you, I stayed strong and supported your forward moving life. Inside I was a constant martyr for your love. These are the days that would turn in my head for many days. Where I could have been different. When you came back, it wasn't long before we picked up like before, friends that can't be in love. I remember when you told me you were engaged. I remember trying to smile for you. Broken. Your great exodus was planned...and so was mine. Fucking London. Fucking ambition. When you announced you were quitting, moving, leaving forever, you could have just hit me with a baseball bat, but I said "Congratulations!". If our story ended there, I might have never had done all the things I did, leaving my job, touring, then I learned about myself, found new love, lost it, broke into a thousand pieces and slowly picked them up and did it all again. I might have just huddled up in the corner and lived out my life without testing anything. But you came to our show after you quit, before you left town. You were so very beautiful and perfect that night. The years, the love, all that which could not be - just exploded in our passionate and unavoidable secret kiss in the dark. All our regrets and repression tried to make up for the pain they caused in a flood of emotion. A moment for a lifetime. Love. One week. One week and we spent every moment we could together. One week and you were leaving. One week and I was leaving. It's all we had. I remember you showed up in my favorite Superman T-shirt on that Friday. I remember you weren't supposed to be there. I remember sneaking off with you before the show. I remember walking outside at the end of the night and holding you, kissing you and saying goodbye. That was last time I would ever see you. It was too much to handle. I remember crying once I was home and everyone was gone. Crying till I convulsed on the floor and crawled outside. Crying till I threw up in the street and I was finding ways to hurt myself to displace the pain. I remember thinking I had never felt pain like this. I think I held onto that pain for too long. I think the lingering phone calls and emails after you left were just a reminder of what I lost and I was an addict. You were my love and you were gone forever. A year later I still thought of you regularly and you know, I found someone to talk to about all that, I started to fall for her. Not long after that I decided to leave my marriage. I decided to never lie to myself about my feelings again, I will never live a lie again. I fell in love again, I moved on, I healed and started a new story. I left my job. I played music for a living. My fear left me and I just went for all things that would keep me from feeling like I didn't give my life a real shot. You gave me that babes, you did. It was a hard lesson and a tough time for both of us, but I don't regret a moment of knowing you and the times we had, I wish you the very best in life and I will always love you.

fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck....fuck

Heaven and Hell

There are countless Heavens and Hells in countless religions. There's my thought. There's reality. There's that which we believe, that which we can prove and that which we refuse & reject. Where would I stay forever in perfect harmony? In her arms and lost in her eyes? On a stage in perfect song? As a child, safe and sheltered? In the desert, high on survival? On top of a mountain, silent for all time? Have I not dragged anchor on Hell's lake of fire? Have I not gone numb? Did the flesh not tear away and leave only ash and bone? Did the cold, dark hand of death not open the door and invite me in? What do I know of these places, or feelings? Of change, decline and growth? What do you know? When we are stripped of our heaven and set back to our hell, we must start the long walk back. No matter how cold the winter, there's a springtime ahead. All I know is that I need to keep walking or rather, that I will keep walking through all the time given to me. Back to heaven for all time.

The stone

It was her eyes that struck me, her toes and beautiful smile. At first I didn't even think too hard about her, just a nice person. Hello, nice to meet you. We played some guitar and talked about music. I was freshly wounded...wounded badly and tugging at sanity. Then she eased into my life and I was instantly healed like some wonderful magic had reached into my broken soul and instantly made it all better. I scared her with my appreciation, it was as if I had been given the most incredible gift but she didn't mean to or didn't realize how trans formative it was for me. My art soared, my passion soared, my hope was off and running wide open and so very happy. New ideas, new attitude, new approach...yes, I wanted this, I was living this. Love. Deep and desperate. Dripping with the weight of thousand lifetimes. Profound...on my side. Too much for her. Too intense. I try to hold my feelings at bay, but it was like holding back the ocean from the beach. She takes two steps back, one forward, and back again. She leaves for her home far away and I let her go...but we linger, we talk, we keep it alive, she takes a step closer. I go to visit and I am met with bliss. My heart, her eyes, finally. I wanted to feel like this forever...coma therapy. Completion of the universal need. And just then she dissolved under the weight of it all and said it wouldn't work. My painting changed. Down goes the ship. Another ride into the pit. The debilitating crash of my soul was at hand. Lower and harder than ever before. Big and terrible. I arrive home and awake to very real thoughts of suicide. I hide from the world. I cried for days without speaking to anyone. I didn't eat, I drank. I threw up and drank more and cried more. I was utterly alone and left my heart, my soul, and nearly my very life out on that road. Death was at my door asking to come in. The only thing I could motivate myself to do was to write music and record it. So for two weeks, I sat in my studio alone and wrote music and lyrics. I created an album worth of music out of the shear need to find a distraction from my pain. See if I care. I fell as far from love as a person can and spent months in the recovery room. I am permanantly changed from that experience, molded by the forging of some overwhelming new reality or broken down into a new form that behaves differently. I'm the one who survived and everyday I am aware of just how much stronger and wiser I am because of it. I am both more a defender of love and a defender of my own sanity. I am a believer, a survivor and the person you want on your side thanks to the stone set in my heart.

The art of conversation

Where did it go? Our ability to speak to each other, or carry on a real conversation. To face our daily truth. So often it seems there are those who just can't actually say what they mean, as if they are afraid of their own words. How many times do I see them run and hide from my candid approach to all things. Again fear comes along and shuts the mouths that could be honest, that could be helpful or hopeful. Fear is the opposite of love and must not be given any mercy. It must be squashed completely. It's a terrible thing to live in fear, it will hold you from the blessings that this life has to offer. You will hurt others with your fear, guaranteed. Our fear of being hurt by each other is the last great hurdle. It goes beyond our fear of physical pain or even death. The fear of emotional pain is our great brick wall, the one place we get completely turned around and trapped if we are not careful. We have to shake off that kind of trouble. We have to get up, get back, get moving on. Live again. Try again. Don't give up. Don't let it beat you. NO! Don't let it hurt you anymore. Get right back up on that horse. Get over this latest breakdown or breakthrough and be unafraid. It starts with a conversation, a real one.

How to save the world

You cannot save the world. You can only do your part to fight for what's right and in the end, it's only to save yourself. To save yourself from slipping across the line and becoming a part of the system that destroys in self-serving madness. You have to fight to stay on side of love, of truth and honesty. On the side of positive change for the planet, to end suffering, to stop hate, to shake others free from thier stand-still. You have to fight just to keep on the side of good. You have to be ever vigilant and always ready to do the right thing. Love, love, love. We don't say it nearly enough. The world is going around and nobody is forcing you to do anything about it, but if you just take the ride then you are fading further and further away from your very soul. Hang on for your life, I'll be by your side.

Dilemma! At the Disco.

Everybody run.

Time and time again

It's been a real real, real real, real real long time coming...but I'm seeing my time coming 'round the bend. That long train whistle is singing in my ears and it's saying stand up and get ready for another ride. Take a deep breath, shake off these blues, rub your eyes and stretch those bones. It's early early early on a warm summer morning. Time to go. No need to say a word.

Anesthesia please

Addicts are we. All of us. I find none immune. It's in our very nature to quell the rise of our spirits with the opiate of our choice. And there lies the most important choice we can make. What will you use to fill the void of an enduring life? The options are plenty. Some are bare faced and troublesome...drugs and alcohol. Some lie behind a heavy curtain, dark obsessions and the like. Some are healthy for the body and mind, exercise and study. Some are social, religion and politics, work and education. What a spectrum to explore, our activities. How do we keep them from becoming obsessions? Must we always maintain balance or is the occasional obsession a chance to become an expert in one area or another? Shall we learn to strip away all of these needs and isolate the soul from any influence? Yes, we must be obsessive, we must be quiet, we must be balanced and well rounded. This is our chance to know life from many perspectives, to know the joy and satisfaction of intense study and interaction in a field, to know the beauty, clarity and completeness of a moment without influence. Our dreams and hopes are just pretty pictures that live and die at our finger tips. Actions are the tilled soil of a plan in motion. And what a crop to be harvested if we continue our action. Our own action is the reward or punishment we are ever creating for ourselves. Passion is our commuter lane in the traffic jam of life, our double shot of espresso on the Monday morning of our discontent. A dangerous and wonderful propellant that is both right and riddled with the pitfalls of excess. Shall we not embrace it? Or should we ignore it? The very meaning to our lives is attached to it, but it pulls and rips at our self-control. It launches our pride into the stratosphere if we let it, sometimes we need that, sometimes it destroys us and causes us to fall. Nevertheless, our lives are empty without it. So we need a check valve, a way to control the flow. We need to keep ourselves in check and seek honesty and reality. We must be humble and full of passion and in this way we are whole and balanced.

News news news

It's interesting to me that the world continues to produce the same news over and over again. At first it seems that we are so completely removed from these happenings around the globe. News events to a child's eyes is like a distant story being told, unless of course, the event is happening directly to you and you are actively involved or a part of the story. Then we grow up and slowly start to feel like we are a part of some connected society. We get all wrapped around the axle of these still distant stories. Some can't get enough of their celebrity updates. Some dig their heels into domestic policy. Others take a global look at the environment. Some view the world through their religion's filter. We become adults, strong in character, able to effect change, we raise our voices in the name of our opinion. We take sides...miles from the front lines. We wage war on straw men in office buildings, in Internet news responses, we rein supreme in our ideals. Still the world puts out the same and we remain ineffective. Change comes slow, where the idealistic beliefs of the last generation slowly fade away and are replaced with pragmatic response to survival with the overtones of the high and mighty hopes and dreams for future generations. Only now in this global community we might hope to align those dreams, we might hope to come to our understanding of each other. Would we spend a lifetime in a futile attempt to drive the world to see our point of view? Would this be a life worth living? Would our effort be justified or rewarded? It's that slow change we must support. So odd that the rubber meets the road in social change only in ideas, in attitude, in thought over a very long period of time. So how do we teach the next generation? How should they view the world, the same old news of the day? What opinions need to be extinguished? What new ones need to be adopted? Then the action comes naturally and without resistance. Certainly I was raised to be polite to everyone, to not litter, to exercise...just ideas about living better in the world, ideas that didn't always exist but now are considered the norm in modern society...or almost. Sidebar: I'm really shocked at the fact that I still witness people littering, it's such a basic idea to put trash in a trash can. How hard is that? I'm not even talking about recycling, but simply getting that non-biodegradable Cheese-it wrapper into a proper receptacle. I've seen people drop these things right in plain sight over and again where I live. If we teach the children anything, let's keep teaching them to not do that. Anyway, I'm wondering how long it will be until we don't get so worked up over the news, when we learn to react with patience, wisdom and appropriate action instead of momentary passionate spouting of opinion. When will stop churning up more of the same things. I'm curious about our new ideas, our new directions and lessons.

Salvation Mountain

The idea hit me the other day. I had been planning a trip to southern California for some time and I started thinking about what I'd really like to do while I was there. The classics, Disneyland, Sea World, Hollywood, Sunset Strip, etc. held little interest for me at this point in my life. I did however realize that I wasn't going to be terribly far from Salvation Mountain, a place that I'd heard about before and read about in 'Into the Wild'. So I planned a side trip out to the desert. I headed east out the lovely beach town in the heart of the OC and made my way out on I-10 toward the Salton Sea. Not 2 and a half hours from Los Angeles lies Niland, CA, a small desert town on a small two lane highway to nowhere. Just off that road, towards the mountains a few miles you will find an interesting place and an interesting person. I often speak about how noticeably friendlier people are in the west vs. the east. Leonard Knight, the creator of Salvation Mountain, is a shinning example of that genuine attitude and truly a person who is filled with love. I arrived and after spending a good while exploring his creation along with a number of other tourists, I trotted off into the desert to check out the art on the nearby abandoned Air Force water tanks. They have since become canvasses for resident artists of the nearby Slab City, a campsite for all sorts of transients, travellers and the like. I made my way back to the mountain, and noticed everyone had left, but as I walked around the far southern part of the area I stumbled upon the man himself. He greeted me joyfully and immediately began to show me around. He was excited to show me exactly how he built everything and share his story. He is definitely the genuine article and I couldn't help but feel like the experience helped me to find some faith in people again. I left feeling better than I expected and I was certain glad to have made the trip. So I say, go see Leonard, he's there right now working on his project and excited to share it with you.