Friday, September 24, 2010

I Heard One Guitar...

It's interesting and a little bit funny sometimes for me to think about how little I've written in the last year. At one point in my life I was writing pages of stuff every day; whether poetry or short story ideas and the odd essay piece here and there, I was always jotting down what I was thinking. I know it wasn't all good, and I'll be the first one to tell you that most of what I wrote when I started was more or less a form of catharsis. Writing was a way for me to express myself in a way that I couldn't quite do otherwise, and I'm quite glad that I was able to find it as an outlet for all the stuff I had going on inside.

As time went on it was less about my teen angst and starry eyed puppy love and infatuation and more about finding my voice in the world. I realized I quite liked being able to express myself through the written word and being able to share my unique perspective with my friends and family and anyone else that was interested in reading a bit of sometimes hastily composed and oddly structured poetry. Creativity is not necessarily endless however, and sometimes you wait and wait for something to inspire you and nothing comes around. Eventually you stop waiting for inspiration and you have two choices: you can actively seek to be inspired or you just stop looking. I think I've been doing the latter for the better part of a year and sort of hid behind the excuse that life is busy, which is a cop out. I'm not saying my life hasn't been busy, or that work hasn't been hectic and will only continue to be more so as the year draws to an end. It has definitely been those things, but I've also had plenty of time to sit down and try to write something...anything...just to keep doing so.

With that said, the confession of my lack of effort is now over. If you've read this far you've been wondering what any of that has to do with the title of this post. No, I'm not that random. I went to see the Black Crowes last night with my friend Ken, and both our conversation and the show itself was insightful and a testament to why music is one of the things in life I truly treasure. Anyone that really knows me, or has spent any time with me at all knows that I am always willing to talk about music and love to do so. I'm not a super talkative individual, but when music is involved in the conversation I tend to talk a lot. It doesn't really matter what type of music we're talking about since I've found that I pretty much enjoy at least some of every style that's available. I've also found that this variety in musical taste has saved me on many a long car ride or evening out at a local restaurant. I know a lot of people that listen to only one type of music or only a few styles and I've never been able to limit myself like that. There's simply too much out there worth exploring and hearing and experiencing to be satisfied with such a small sampling.

Music is one of those universal things that people from all cultures and walks of life can relate to and appreciate, and it goes beyond any singular outlook or ideal. I think that's important. I think we should all spend more time relating to one another over a cup of coffee and a mixtape or playlist. I'm not saying that we'll all like the same songs or bands, but that's the fun of the discussion. I've always enjoyed the little insights that can be learned when someone is going on and on about the bands that they love or the first song they remember hearing as a child or the song that was playing when they had their first kiss or after their first break up. These moments are deeply personal for some and it's something special that you can have the privilege of sharing in it with them.

Well...that's all for now...when the music's over..turn out the lights....

See you where the sidewalk ends...

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