I think, perhaps, that Life is what happens when we, physical, human representations come into contact with the spiritual, the super-natural, the divine.
Like, if we are the trumpets, violins, and cellos and the Divine is the notion, the creativity, the spirit that put the notes in their rightful spots. When these forces meet, something new happens: something called music.
If I knew how to dance, like a nice two-person number that Mario Lopez would Dance With The Stars, I might compare it to that. It makes a lot of sense, the whole "two working together to make a singularly beautiful action" thing...
But I don't know anything about dancing.
But music... yes, music makes sense to me. The notes are there, on the page, sure, but they actually don't exists in or on the page -- they're actually somewhere else. They're nowhere, really, until some kind of musical instrument plays them.
But when that happens, and when notes are played well, and when they are in tune, and on pitch, and played with a beautiful timbre...
Well, I really don't think there's anything better.
//
Why does travel sound so good?
Behold Alison Krauss & Union Station, in "Gravity":
And the people who love me still ask me When are you coming back to town And I answer quite frankly When they stop building roads And all God needs is gravity to hold me downAhh, that sounds pretty nice... It's quite nearly time for me to visit some other lands, see some new things. Here's hoping I'm able to do it soon. //
I wrote this on December 10th, 2005, at 3:33pm in Vail, Colorado, right after finishing a book by Alice Sebold called "The Lovely Bones;" its aftershocks are potent, and it is a book I highly recommend.
------------
It shakes me heavily how someone can compose something so poignantly beautiful out of a story so horrifically tragic.
Life does not exist in separate blocks of happy and then sad, but these emotions are constantly juxtaposed, eternally vying for attention. My thoughts are forever torn between memories that stab like icicles and thoughts that make something inside me literally bubble with emotion, as if I may at any moment break into song or laughter or crying or some unknown, frightening combination.
Today, as life is starting (my sister is having a baby today -- right now, actually), so also life is disintegrating as I, we, all grow older, some pieces of us fading to black and some lighting up with color in previously unexplored places.
And time; time is not our enemy but our healer -- a disturbing, patient ghost that forever ties us together with infinite strands we call moments.
If we could only find a way to marry our atoms to the moment we're living, I think we would find our life's music in tune.
//
Today in Michigan it rained;
The sky turned a blue the shade
Of a deep, angry ocean
And the atmosphere cracked
Like someone quite large was
Ripping the sky in half.
It
Was
Beautiful.
//