Come away from the window - Inability

He had hoped it was broken in any case.  His inability to cease his mind was an ever present member in the parade that his mind was becoming.  The elderly lady stood, agitated.  Seemed to be the way of her.  

"Is there any apple butter that I might use on the toast, ma'am?" said the young man.

"Apple butter! who ever heard of such a thing, young people..." she continued on and reached into a cupboard and pulled a glass jar into sight and onto the table.  "Thank you, ma'am." said the young man.  "Ma'am, you mentioned wizards." an idle attempt to break his conscience flow.  

Always the gracious hostess lacking in grace, she had left to calm her nerves.  No help then.  He tried thinking on the toast, only to realize that though the toast felt warm against his face, the grease wouldn't help his complexion, and toast would not occupy him.  With his head on the table, a parchment envelope fell out of his pocket from within his tweed suit coat.  He cleaned his face of crumbs and then reached down to pick up the envelope.  "Are you certain?  Is this what you want?" thoughts, and his pulse quickened.  He determined rapidly, that he wasn't, and he wasn't certain it was.  

what did the violins say

I don't know, but it broke me.

They don't really say much, but two hands picked me up and broke me in two.  Two pieces, with one wondering why it mattered, and the other just.  

                                                                                   just.

    

The hard concrete surface pushed down upon me.  

Chikina.

Glory.

Nothing within me has the wherewithal to stand.  

upcoming gigs

I am going to be playing at the mill in Iowa City on the 18th of August

and there might be an opportunity for me to play at the Java House( a coffee shop).  please pray for this and that I would be bold enough to pursue it and other playing opportunities.  Thank you and God Bless

This Road by Jars of Clay

Interesting song, just transcribed for a friend

In Open-D Tuning Capo II

 

Chord Legend (I don’t know the real names of these, the names are kind of correct, and hopefully correct enough to let you know what chords they are, but here is them tabbed out too.)

         D   G/D   Bmin   A   D(special)  A/D  Bmin7(1^st position)   G

1 -----0----0------0-----0------0---------0---------0----------------0--------

2 -----0----0------0-----0------0---------0---------0----------------0--------

3 -----0----1------8-----7------8---------7---------0----------------5--------

4 -----0----0------0-----0------0---------0---------0----------------0--------

5 -----0----2------9-----7------9---------7---------2----------------5--------

6 -----0----0------9-----7------0---------0---------0----------------5--------

 

D

 

              G/D D                           G/D D                          

All heavy laden acquainted with sorrow

D                          Bmin           A              D

May Christ in our marrow, carry us home

         G/D    D                              G/D  D

From alabaster come blessings of laughter

                     Bmin           A                    D

A fragrance of passion and joy from the truth

 

G/D         G/D         D         D

G/D         G/D         D         D  

G/D      D(special) A/D Bmin7(1^st position)        

 

 

D                  G/D D                         G/D D

Grant the unbroken tears ever flowing

D                               Bmin          A           D 

From hearts of contrition only for You

D                    G/D         D                             G/D           D

May sin never hold true that love never broke through

D                        Bmin            A         Bmin

For God's mercy holds us and we are His own

 

(D 2^nd Time)                G   D                           G                  D            

This road that we travel, may it be the straight and narrow

                  G               Bmin         A  Bmin A            D

God give us peace and grace from You, all the day

                  G D                      G           D

Shelter with fire, our voices we raise still higher

                  G               Bmin     A  Bmin A                  D

God give us peace and grace from You, all the day through

Do you believe in magic?

"I believe in music the way some people believe in fairy tales." -- August Rush

There is something fundamentally ungraspable (not a word, but now it is, boom that just happened) about good music and good friends.  I have a few friends that I get to share a magic connection with.  I don't know why it is them in particular.  For instance, I have a good friend that every now and again we get together and just play.  We set up a guitar, a bass, and the piano, and just play.  It is hard to explain it pass that.  It is something very hard to explain to people, but it's awesome, kind of like a really deep conversation with an old friend.  You feel refreshed and connected.  Well perhaps that is the best explanation.  When this particular friend and I get together, we talk.  No words, unless there is singing, but there is joy found and expressed, hard times uncovered and dealt with.  And at the end of it all there is a happy feeling inside, and a smile on the face.  Lif is a fairy tale for me, one that I get to take part in.  Not a "happily ever after" kind of tale, but one with ups and downs and unexpected turns.  No matter how messed up things are around me, I am still just happy to be an extra. 

Come away from the window - Reverie part 1

"Come away from the window, young man, there are wizards out there." said the elderly lady that the young man had been staying with for about a week now.  She wore her hair like it was a crown, obviously proud of its thickness, for she was elderly enough to get away with calling the young man, 'young man.'  "Fifty years of age, and still young," muttered the young man, smiling just a little, and shaking his head. 

"Yes ma'am," said he.  

"Wizards of the nasty sort." said the elderly lady, "Come now, sit down and have some toast."  He hadn't eaten toast for at least a year. 

"Yes ma'am," said he.

The young man took off his hat and laid it in the windowsill, it was far broader than the windowsill at home.  He turned from the window, eyes turned down, glanced up for a moment to take in the room and his relative position in it.  Subconscious mind directed him to a stool and pulled him up close to the table.  

Eyes were open but not seeing.  Peering into them revealed a wall, difficult to move past, especially now.  But the gears that turned within him binding him in thought could distantly be heard.  They sounded like silence.  Locked in a room with no noise of any kind except the hiss of atoms bouncing off of eardrums.  His reverie was broken by the crunch of toast between his teeth and crumbs falling down onto his shirt.

The Flood Relief efforts

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3272/2606125284_b7fd02120b.jpg?v=0

During the flood of 2008, I have been fortunate enough to live in a house on a hill.  The damage to Iowa City and Cedar Rapids has been awful, and apparently, most of the major "first responders" like Red Cross, FEMA, etc. are getting out of town.  "Done" they say or some such.  Just a little problem though, most of the actual damage has not been addressed, and local laws have not been that helpful either.  There are some groups coming in to help, despite these difficulties.  Personally, I am excited about the Presbyterian Church in America's (PCA) Disaster Relief efforts.  I was able to meet the man in charge of setting it up, and the church I attend will be the base of operations for the teams coming into town.  I hope to get involved with supporting those teams!  The first team comes this week.  May they bring relief and joy to heal pain and darkness.  

Praise be to God, all glory to the Most High.  Grateful for his love and mercy, here I am.

go cubbies

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/notebook?page=bbtn/takemeout

just before bed this came out

what am I doing here

still staring at your photograph

what am I trying to feel

Or make you out to be someone

I've never known you to be this past

I've never seen you be so obvious

talk me down

I don't understand

the meaning of it all

it all is a vague notion 

I don't understand

the meaning but just a little

subtlety a finer thing than I've ever had

never could but if I would, would that I'd had

enough of everything

to know that I don't know

I know that I don't know

talk me down

I don't understand

the meaning of it all

it all is a vague notion 

I don't understand

the meaning but just a little

missed your voice

but not my choice

your sweet melody 

always comforts me

am I tied down or did I just 

chain myself to a conception of my own reality

talk me down

I don't understand

the meaning of it all

it all is a vague notion 

I don't understand

the meaning but just a little 

devon allman was awesome

Sometimes when I look at the clouds, I have a hard time believing that they are for real.  Perhaps it is because of all the "digital paintings"  in the backgrounds on new movies.   The digital paintings are getting good enough now that they are looking more true to life.  It causes even more awe within me when I look to the sky.  Especially when the clouds are varied. cumulo...cumulo nimbus, stratus stratus.  Actually, I don't know cloud names...  The large fluffy ones look like rolling white hills, but from the ground you just get to imagine what is on top. The skies shutter speed is a little slow for some clouds such that they are blurred across the sky and focusing on them is rather pointless, but I still attempt it anyways.

anyways might not be a word, but I like it anyways.

devon allman

So I am really excited, Devon Allman (the son of Greg Allman of the Allman Brothers) is playing in Iowa City tonight!  He is quite a good guitarist from the album I have of his.  I'll let you know how it goes!

talking into a bucket, day 2

per my cousin's valid chastisement, here is episode two of the new saga.  

I am sitting in my room listening to some Leo Kottke still trying to find where my voice has gotten off too.  (Now there is an example of a to(o) I don't know what to do with).  I am contemplating the epic turns my life might be taking.  Specifically my creative life, but all in all the whole thing.  Recently, I have been having an urge to write some actual story type things.  Science fiction, or just plain weird.  I have written/am writing gnome stories for the entertainment of a friend, but this is something distinct from that.  Engineering is fun and all, but I am trying to figure out (I guess I always am) how the other stuff I do will play out.  If I get something fairly complete written in the story department, I'll have to show it to those who care.  

I am in process of working on a lullaby in song form still don't quite have all the words down.  I'll let ya'll know when/where it gets posted!

This wounded song

Every time I lose my voice I wonder: Is it a lesson?  is it a maturing experience?  is it random?  or is it simply a providential but temporary rest for those around me who are easily annoyed by the persistent hum of an excitedly arrogant me?  From certain angles, it might be on of these. Perhaps I need to learn the humility that comes with losing one of your favorite instruments. Perhaps.  Maybe I just really needed the solitude set forth by being mute.  Maybe.  People sort of stop talking to you after a while when they realize you'll only reply with a (what you hope is anyways) a roguish smile and a knowing head nod.  Or a shoulder shrug saying, I could tell you, but it hurts.  People.  

Probably it is none or all of these things.  As my daddy points out in the sunday school classes he frequently teaches, it is so very often not a question of either/or, and quite very often a question of both/and.  He also likes to say that in writing, the word very should be replaced by a cuss word and then all the profanity removed.  Probably he is right.  Probably.

And as my voice comes back I am certainly thankful for the homegrown honey that my distant cousins in North Carolina sent with us at the Family Reunion.  Ahh, honey-lemon tea.  

PS.  Kaitlin I will do better in the future to post more frequently.