another musical discovery, boze naigle, the alt hip hop artist on the west coast. this video is a low-key, black and white production to create that retro feel. and i like the casual use of the cue cards, just enough self-conscious to throw the timing off, like he really doesn’t care. that’s the essence of boze. cool urban poet.
nah. i’m just kidding about all that. it’s robert zimmerman, of course. 50 years ahead of his time.
blame this on my sister, Sarah. she introduced twenty one pilots to me via the fairly innocuous video, Stressed Out. but I’ve been exploring and I’ve discovered that they is off the wall.
so this is my weird musical obsession of the moment. i love the theatrics and all of the facial expressions in the video, but beyond all of that, there’s a tender love story.
sure joe. sure.
One of my favorite artists, Sharon Lyn Stackpole, just posted this image on her site. It reminded me of a girl on a swing I saw a few months ago as I drove by a little roadside park. She was maybe 15 or 16 and was giving it all she had, oblivious to everything around her. She was in her own world, and you could tell.
It made me want to go home and do the same thing.
There’s something about a swing. You can take it nice and easy, or you can go scary high. Maybe it’s the weightless feeling you get at the apex. Maybe it’s the centrifugal force that gives you a rush. Either way, it just seems to make all the troubles of the day float away.
Image copyright, 2016, Sharon Lyn Stackpole, republished with permission.
i could write
or watch a ballgame
or work on a project
but it’s October
and every evening
my backyard is lit
in brilliant yellows
and reds
and colors that defy description
another sunset
and another tomorrow
except that’s not true
stop
take it in
because it’s a gift
and it’s ephemeral
copyright 2016, joseph e bird
Why
do you do
what you do?
.
You see the fall leaves
a season has passed
you pen the good words
and hope it will last.
A memory is shared
it once was so clear
your poetry speaks
to those who will hear.
.
You comprehend shadows
you understand light
you capture the feelings
of what’s lost in our sight.
Your pictures are poignant
of people unknown
they look faraway
they look so alone.
.
You see a petal
with colors of fire
you paint what you feel
it sings like a choir.
Your brush touches paper
like a gentle caress
the colors transform
become a child’s dress.
.
You hear the heart cry
of love gone away
you make it a song
to ease your dismay.
Or light fills your life
and burns off the haze
you sing of the beauty
your song is a praise.
.
Why
do you do
what you do?
It’s not for the fame,
or to hear accolades
such things are so fleeting
they’re just a charade.
You do it for you
and maybe to share
to give what we need
and to show that you care.
copyright 2016, joseph e bird
I love songs that tell stories. This one will take you back.
Brenda and Eddie were still going steady in the summer of ’75.
I jumped in my car the other day to head to a meeting and the radio was tuned to NPR, where local classical composer, Matt Jackfert, was hosting his classical music show. I caught the last few minutes of the third movement of Henryk Gorecki’s Symphony No. 3, also known as the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs. The music, while aptly named, is captivating. And when you know the story behind it, it’s even more moving.
Here’s Gorecki’s story: Henryk Gorecki’s life.
Here’s the third movement:
Nothing else to say.
Ever notice my profile pic? Looks like I could break out in song on a moment’s notice, right? When I was still on Facebook, I had the same photo on my Facebook page. One day an old friend, a very accomplished musician, saw my picture, stopped by my office and invited me to join him and his friends for their jam sessions. Sounds cool. But just because I’m holding a guitar doesn’t mean I’m good enough to join in with real musicians.
I declined.
There’s a lesson in that little story.
There are lessons in all good stories, even stories that are completely made up. Fiction, in other words. In fiction, we meet people, get to know them, and learn from their mistakes. We feel their pain, rejoice in their victories. Kind of like life.
I’ve heard people say they only read stories that are real. They mean history, biographies, and reference and self-improvement books. All good and beneficial. But by skipping fiction altogether, they’re missing nourishment for the heart and soul.
Same with art. And music. And dance. And poetry. And other forms that engage the right side of the brain.
Relying on feelings too much can get is trouble. But we risk missing out on so much if we live only in logic and reason.
“We dance for laughter,
we dance for tears,
we dance for madness,
we dance for fears,
we dance for hopes,
we dance for screams,
we are the dancers,
we create the dreams.” — attributed to Albert Einstein
I haven’t dropped any music lately, so let me tell you about two of my recent discoveries.
First is the Mahogany Sessions, stripped down acoustic music by various artists, mostly in a moody or melancholy style. It’s good for late-night listening or when you’re in one of those moods. This evening might be right.
There’s an interesting story about how I found out about Josh Garrels, but I’m not going to tell you right now. Here’s one of his songs from the Mahogany Sessions. Just put in your earbuds and groove to the vibe.
Joseph E Bird 