Silence in the Heart of the Night...

When the silence takes you, deep in the heart of night, thoughts must answer the call unyielding in the wake of sleep. Dawn offers no respite. Indeed, the sunrise only signifies the wasted hours of reflection that did not even seem meditation. Even the wolf that had nipped at your heels retreats into the comfort of its den, longing for a deep of dark within you. The emptiness within, the echoes without, they distort the hope within such hours... they ignore what should be.

Would that I breathe you in, the cool night air refreshing me in your movements, even if it might be a waning dream of pasts of a future's eve. Would I might sense your heart open into a place unbroken, a world unimagined, sensations of realms within a new heart. A heart only seen in the attempt at understanding the nature of our souls, the joy of love within it. I can... could attempt, maybe even have attempted... and I think my life would not be a waste in such understanding.

You are the moment, wherever you may be in this life... the moment remembers... days, years... centuries hence. Your breath exhales the memory of a consciousness I might never see yet always knew existed. Wiping away the ache, the regret, and most of all, the fear... 

It waits... barely out of reach, this gentleness of spirit awash in the truth of understanding, the truth in all of us. Tantalizing, tormenting, a reminder of our attempts at romantic and spiritual fulfillment. The true tree of knowledge of good and evil waits outstretched upon a shore we might be incapable of crossing, bearing the fruit of ultimate understanding. What must we leave behind... and what would we become in the process? 

In the end, I have no answers, only the questions that punctuate the silence in the heart of night...

C.

Purposes...

So, a year older... I wish I could say wiser, but no... even more foolish than before.

I glance back to the past year of my life, and really, this month was the beginning of so much that I could not anticipate, nor wanted to, ignorant in my perceived bliss.  While birthdays are anticipatory of the year ahead, they can be as much a reflection of days and years past.  I realize the waste of my life in years past, maybe to an extent some of this past year... I know I have more or less wasted the past couple of months, adrift in melancholy at times, hiding it as best I can.  I have done all I could to put my best foot forward, and it was never enough.  I ran away, seeking the solace of the other side of the world, and yet... respite is only fleeting in the face of sorrow.

I confess my thoughts might be maudlin, even a bit piteous, but I would like to think I am entitled to them.  Indeed, if you knew what I knew, what I have been told, what I have seen... you might understand.  I have done my best to give to you, dear readers, a glimpse of what I have seen.  Regrettably, my meager attempts at expression can only convey an inkling of the beauty I have experienced.  Alas, I seem to have expressed my sorrow with a greater degree of ease in this regard.  

I wonder at times as to a purpose, as I am one long lost... 

C.

Golden Bay

I suppose, technically, I am referring to Wainui Bay, a place of indelible beauty and comfort (at least to me), north and west of the Abel Tasman Track on the South Island of New Zealand. It was one of those places where you could be wading in the ocean and yet see some peaks in the distance still covered in snow. The imagery in this place was quite staggering, as were many places, really, but I felt I could lose myself (and depending on the tides, trap myself) in the nooks, coves and small beaches of the area. Sometimes, I wonder if I still do... memory being what it is. So, what follows is a little stream of consciousness/blank verse about thoughts and such while walking across the bay and the area. I had written these thoughts down while in New Zealand but was finally able to put them in some cohesive format (um, at least for me I guess :)

'Golden Bay'

A drifting illusion on water
Amid such quiet calm
Waiting...
Beyond a distant twilight,
Lingering upon a gentle shore.

A passing thought in silence
Burdened by the tempestuous wind
Hoping...
Reaching toward your caress
Within the memory of simpler days.

Moments of serenity...
Lost to vanity and pride.

An image of a wistful dream
Borne in a sea of stars
Wishing...
To yield our tempered passion,
Hidden beneath the scars of night.

An illusion on water,
Carried by the wind.
Wanting...
Seeking some hope of resolution,
Upon the solace of your distant shore.

C.

The Nature of Thought...

This is similar to the contemplation of the contemplative mind, but I digress and wonder about the nature of thought or more precisely, the nature of our thoughts.  I have argued, perhaps weakly, that our thoughts aid in the perception of the universe at large, maybe even aided in the creation of the universe... or someone's thoughts at least.  Since we are comprised of the same elements as the stars themselves, I am inclined to feel our thoughts and words have real power.  Certainly not our everyday conversation, such as 'I feel like getting a beer' or 'Like, that outfit is totally...' (maybe those types of thoughts help wipe out star systems... celebrity supernovas?).  Sometimes, though, an excellent conversation can help contribute to the wealth of wonder amid the stars and ourselves.  Admittedly, most conversations would not fall into such a category, though perhaps the universe loves the ordinary as much as the extraordinary.  I suppose it would be arrogant to think otherwise.  Of course, maybe one must be able to percieve the connection between our hearts and the beating heart of creation in order to effect an influence upon what awaits in the gulf between the stars.  And there is simply the idea that just because we are made of the same elements of the stars and planets, we have no influence whatsoever... again, arrogant egos.  Still, I like to think we are connected and that thought, like many others, is a part of the nature of thought itself.  It gives me as much comfort as I need sometimes, though not necessarily all the comfort I want, but who really gets such comfort these days?  Maybe I will simply never be truly satisfied, and always searching for an answer when one might never have existed in the first place.  It is certainly a possibility... I am ok with that.  I know my path.  It is one I accept, though I may not like it... I still accept it.  I suppose that might be the nature of my struggle within the nature of thought.  In order to seek such a higher purpose, I have to give up what I might not be prepared to give.  It is something I do contemplate as I delve further into the ideas of thought.  

I have left so much behind... I am not sure I am capable of taking the necessary steps.  Maybe none of us are.  It should make me feel better, but it does not.  

C.

Memories Of This Life...

'Memories of This Life'

A tempering calm amid the burden of sin,
Instinct laughing in the weathering face of time;
Resolve eroding with every 'might-have-been',
A singular, tangible moment our only crime.

Remnants within seconds lost to the gulf of night,
Awakening upon the beauty of a far-green shore;
Distant echoes of indelible days unfurl beyond sight,
A heart yielding yet wanting for more.

For all such solace beyond the thoughts of love,
I can put aside the ache and shadow of our strife;
A wandering soul with nothing left to prove,
Hope fulfilled in the memory of this life.

C.

Staving Off The Night...

Our world is changing...

For good or ill, I have not the insight or the arrogance to say. Change for the sake of change is simply foolish, but then so is complacency for its own sake. While most of us have a desire to fight shifts in the political, cultural, physical and personal landscape, such shifts are inevitable. Nothing, except extinction, can really stop it. Fear usually stems from the fears of change. For in that fear lies the deepest fear of all: loss... loss of life, property, love... self. Fear is unknown, and that is simply why so many fear the night, the primeval unknown. And the future? The ultimate unknown. Hence the debates, some civil, some outrageous, about futures we can and cannot control. In truth, while we say we control our own destiny (oft cliched thanks to sporting events), only the present moment is under our direct control. That is the choice we have... the only choice. If in that moment, the future changes, well... so be it. Such becomes the nature of our existence along the roads we travel, literally and metaphorically. The Holmesian mirror of hindsight can temper new choices, open up new pathways, but in the end, the speed at which present and future collide can overwhelm even the most logical and stoic of philosophers just as it blinds almost every romantic... and most of us in-between. Change... change is our blessing and curse... one of many unique gifts, this capacity of will. Certainly not our greatest gift (in my rather minority opinion), but good enough at times for us to perceive a glimmer of the future hidden in the depths of the past.

In closing, I can only offer my own hopes... in the best way I can. I had written the following several months ago for reasons that matter little now, except one. It is all I can do to help stave off the night...

'The path we walk is lined with the voices of the distant past, our own past, the present, and a future which conceals itself until it merges with the present. Those voices are the words of time. They are the rocks we stop and pick up and examine along the way, a seashell that might be more enduring than another, a glint of starlight dancing upon calm waters, or the gentle calling of the wind from a distant, verdant shore. As we walk, we can choose to leave our own words for time to hear, for the posterity of those that might decide to pick you up one day and see how extraordinary you were to generations hence. Our legacy is not the visceral monuments of our arrogance and perceived greatness, but in what we carry with us... what is unique in all of us.'

The world is changing... and that is well.

C.

Excerpts From A (now) Uncluttered Mind...

Well, Mom has come through her surgery ok, and appears to be doing quite well, though I think she over did it today.  Still, she should be fine unless somehting unforseen comes up...

It has been a fairly long week, though not as tough as some, but mostly dealing with helping my Mom out while she has been out for surgery.  That was mostly from worry, because I am happy to help family out when they need me... story of my life, to be fair.  Regardless, one gets random thoughts about all the strangeness in this life and it starts to clutter up the noggin some. So, I figured, in lieu of being particularly poignant and/or obtuse (which, regrettably, can happen simultaneously... what's the point of being poignant when no one gets the point... *sigh*), I thought I would clean out some of the mental debris that has been accumulating during this week.  Also, I have a couple of writing projects I have been alternately stalling and starting on (these things happen), and the mere exercise of doing this helps now and then... 

So, some random thoughts but not necessarily random in purpose...

So, am I going to see some of that 170 million spent on the 'national celebration'?  If not, why wasn't I invited? (and it's not a question of whether I would go or not, it's the principle of the thing :)

Though it's rather cold, ice cream sounds good at the moment.

Since the new president is freezing White House staffer's salaries of over 100,000, does that mean he is taking the job pro bono(since his salary is around a quarter of a million a year)? And what if you were making 98,000... do you get the shaft, or would you be one of those real troopers and take the hit for the good of the nation?

I think Congress should follow the White House's lead... most of them don't need the money either.  If they all did it, in a couple of years we could just pay off the inauguration :)

Why is it ok to take back all the wonderful things we say in love, but it is never possible to take back some of the horrible things we might say in anger... I might argue the sting from the words in love can be worse.  How arrogant we are in the passion of love. (note: guilty as charged, and if you think you are not... then you have never been in love)

We are all responsible for the mess we have created... I wonder if the stain on our souls can ever be cleansed.

I really hope the Steelers don't get a 6th Super Bowl ring... Steelers fans are bad enough... yes, I know, so are Cowboys fans, but I am not one of those Cowboys fans.

I need to be back on a beach...

(Am I the only person that thinks in parantheticals?)

Strange, I really know what it is like to be a pebble trying to stop an avalanche... worse, when you see it so clearly, and you know what is going to happen and have no way of stopping it... feeling powerless against the tide of history is a relatively normal occurrence for me.

The saying goes, 'you are only as old as you feel'... today, I don't know how old, or young I feel... but, I was always old, sooo...

Hmmm.... still a little cluttered, but less so than this morning.  It's a start...

C.

Thoughts On Genetic Memory

Wow, it has been awhile since I have written here.  Not unintentionally, I guess.  Simply working on other projects and having two conventions around the holidays will do that.  Well, then on to the actual matter at hand...

The idea of genetic, or racial and collective memory is not new.  I suppose the term genetic memory is more commonly used, as racial memory is decidedly un p.c, and collective memory seems more metaphysical.  For my part, I probably use the term collective memory and genetic memory more often.  While I have understood the concept of collective memory for many years, I really did not think about it as much until I read Arthur C. Clarke's groundbreaking book Childhood's End.  Without revealing too much regarding the book (and though from 1952 I highly recommend reading it), aliens come to the planet and demand the end of hostilities and potential nuclear war.  I know, sounds like a recent and not so recent movie, but Childhood's End is much more of a philosophical read, as Clarke delves into not only our past fears, but our future ones as well.  Clarke uses the term racial memory in the book, but I find the term genetic memory more palpable these days.  Further, my understanding of genetic memory hearkens to Clarke's ideas in this regard.  Put simply, Childhood's End is a tale of innocence lost (hence the title) and how we must eventually come to terms with our collective and individual genetic memories.

What, then is genetic memory?  Is it simply instinct, our natural reaction to images, sounds, words, feelings? Or is it something higher, a collective memory that reaches from a future already written though without a clear understanding.  In science fiction or science philosophy, I can easily propose such questions; however, the science of the 21st century might find the idea of a future memory within our genetic structure laughable.  Therefore, I am delving truly into the realm of philosophy based on some good reading and probably gut instinct (or gut insanity depending on who you ask and how you feel in the matter).  Regardless, I can only offer my view, which has been shaped through my own ruminations, writings, and reading on the subject.  To me, I see this memory in action in many ways, especially in the instinct of our fears, our acquiescence in the strangest of situations, and our ever popular mob mentality.  I understand it in my darkest moments, in the abyss of thought that can drag you into places you never wanted.  And yet, I feel it in the reflection of the light of the universe in our eyes, the gentle hope of a new day, the promise of a home in the cradle of stars.  We are the worst and the best in ourselves, and much of it comes from our instinct to hate and our instinct to love, what is written in our genetic code, our memory of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

While this memory can be on a collective level, it can be, at least to my mind, exceedingly personal.  I have noted this recently in some of my writings, wondering if a few of the things I had written were less about present inspiration but more drawing from a memory of the future.  It could be I simply have the mirror of hindsight, though a few poems and commentaries seemed remarkably prescient and appropriate.  Of course, considering the way I write, it is rather easy to project one piece upon multiple situations.  The cynic would merely opine that it is all mere coincidence, and some part of me would be inclined to agree.  The realist in me notes my penchant for overthinking at times.  The optimist, the dreamer... the romantic, the man who has seen so much wonder in this amazing universe, been given so much for so little in return, understands the truth, even if it is only a small truth.  The higher truths tend to escape us anyways, even when we are confident in our understanding, as I thought so many times, especially in the vanity of youth.  On the other hand, I could be drawing upon that memory even now, yielding only to the truth that exists in all of us.  

One thing I do know, after reading Childhood's End, I never looked at the stars quite the same way.  We are the universe made manifest, after all... and knowing that has helped me understand, for good or ill, past memories of future's days.

C.

All the Best Holiday Wishes...

For most of us, and for almost all the people I know, the day approaches (and for some in other parts of the world, it has already arrived :) and the world seems to take a step back. Our overwhelming concerns and worry ease if but for a moment, and we can celebrate this day in whatever manner befits our hearts, whether it is the joy of seeing the ones we care about tear into their new gifts, the excitement of seeing old friends and family (or new ones for that matter), or simply relaxing with good company and having a fine holiday meal. Many of us perhaps enjoy all three. In many ways I am blessed in that regard, and my hope is that you are blessed in such a manner as well. Of course, I would wish such a thing any time of the year, for how we feel during the holidays certainly can carry over into our daily lives and into the next year. The world can be a terrible, cruel place, and what we take with us during this time can give us a little comfort and solace in the face of the trials and travails of the coming year. 

The holiday allows us to reflect, to renew, to understand, and to hope. It reminds us that we can set aside all grief and pain and seek only fellowship and peace. Admitedly, I am hardly being realistic, but if any time of the year has a place for idealism, this would be such a time. Besides, we can all use a little more hope in our lives, especially now. To that end, my ideal gift to all of you is my fond hope for you and yours during the holiday and for the upcoming year. May it be fruitful and blessed in all things, and may the light of the universe shine brightly in your hearts and in all that you do.

Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year :)

Chris

Cheese

One of my favorite quotes is G.K Chesterton's comment about poetry and cheese: 'Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.' Well, I am breaking my silence on this matter this morning after thinking of the many moments when I would be quietly getting a piece of cheese out of the 'fridge when all of a sudden Merry (a very small shi tzu/ schnauser combination) is right next to me waiting for her share of the goodness. For being basically brain-dead (she barks at everything, even me), she is awful clever about food :)

'Cheese'

swiss cheddar
gouda brie pepper jack too
little growl tail wagging
waiting for a bite
grated unwrapped block
sliced matters not
always knows ready to beg
little growl tail wagging
so cute
provolone shredded deli
style too
smiling laughing antics
so many times
swiss cheddar
little growl tail wagging
off with her prize...
dogs and cheese
who knew?

C.

Erratic Errata From the Past Couple of Months...

I am not sure if I am going to make sense at all, but sometimes you just need to write and get it all out there, and I promised myself, if I did, then I would hold nothing back... some of this is simply an exercise in writing, a little is what has needed to be said for awhile, the rest is meandering nonsense... which, to be fair, is pretty normal for me.

This past weekend has been a blur, and while it is now Tuesday, my brain is still spinning from having to do so much for really so little a show.  Of course, being tragically understaffed except in my department was the critical factor, and without the help I had I might have been more insane. Lucky me, I only went half mad.  In truth, things at the show could have gone much worse, and many, many folks had an awesome time, more than did not.  Even the fine folks that worked for me had a fantastic time, but I am sure some of that has to be how easy I was to work for, lol (and the bribes in alcohol).  Still, I had moments of awesome mixed with a bit of stress, usually trying to fix things that were not thought about, or at least forgotten by others.  Silly me and my memory.  In truth, I sensed what would occur... knew it.  I have excellent instincts, though I rarely listen to them because I am too trusting of others, and often afraid of giving in to my instincts.  Just as well, because there were a few smart-asses I wanted to murder, sooo... instead I remained my usual restrained, congenial and courteous self, treating the staff, con-goers and guests with all the dignity and grace I could muster, which must have been a lot.  The thing is, as much as I may want to give in, I have to be the man I was meant to be lest I destroy the best part of myself.  I know in so many ways I am a product of another time and I constantly have to live with the consequences of the nature of my heart.  It served me well to a degree this past weekend and over the past couple of months while away.  And yes, I think about all the possibilities... all of them.  Sometimes, it feels as if I have stepped into one of my stories and live, if for a moment, an alternate life.  Other times, a memory steps in, takes hold, and leaves me breathless.  In the end, my nature forces me to alleviate the pressure the only way I know how: boring the crap out of my readers, lol.  

I do offer a caveat, some of what I am doing can be construed as whining/complaining, and if that is how you see it, certainly you are entitled to think in whatever manner seems essential to you.  I only put the words to page and let the world decide, for it must.  The rest is mere semantics.  I have written for the sake of others and for myself.  Now, I seem to only write for whatever is left in the depth of my heart.  It is hard to come back from such depths when you understand the truth in your soul, when you understand you cannot go back to a previous journey.  All you have is the one in front of you.  No magic time machines... no alternate realities (even if it might make good fiction), only dreams of a dream that fade in quiet of the night, the wolf nipping at your heels.  I felt it more and more throughout the last holiday and will feel it again as the current one approaches.  If you knew what I had known, perhaps you will understand.  The currents that flow from the edge of time through the truth of my soul cannot forget... nor should it.  Yes, it waits in places that I push away when the memory returns, or when I want to feel again.  And yet, it dominates my instincts I think, further showing how much of a fool I really am.  Of course, I understand completely the nature of my foolishness, so shame on me in that regard.  

I can only offer who I am to the burning heart of the cosmos... I can only offer my words to ease any suffering in the cradle of time.  I know the truth of what I see and can only give this.  For all the wandering across the sea, for all the travels and travails, this is what I understand.  I will give everything in this understanding of us all.  If it means I remain a bit out of place in time, if I must continue to treat people with the dignity I think they deserve (whether they actually deserve it or not), then so be it.  I would do so until the stars burns cold... 

As a species, we can be so much more than contained within Sagan's 'pale blue dot'... I suppose I can only do my part one life at a time.

C.

Some thoughts and other thoughts...

Still dog-tired, so do forgive any of my sleep-deprived errors:

Sometimes you need to get some of this down in case you miss it, and then morning comes and you completely forget what you intended to write. So, this is what I use my blog for, a reminder of what I am supposed to be writing and or fomenting in my sometimes enigmatic and oft times demented mind :) I do have a lot to say and to write, some of which has been written already and just needs to be transcribed to electronic format. Much of it still waits to be written, in one format or another, in one project or another, though I will continue to use my blog as a test-bed of a sort for what I will be doing in the future. The past two months have taught me a lot about myself and others, about self-reliance, charity, decency, love, sadness, warmth, tenderness, worry... and the lack thereof. Maybe even more... Of course, conceptually, I knew these things, but to see them put into practice in so brief a time was humbling and challenging all at once. I spent time alone in the wilderness contemplating the thoughts of the universe itself, and would then be laid low in the grace of a simple smile. Finally, you stop wondering why a person was placed into your life, no matter how brief a time and however strange the situation... and you accept it. You become more grateful than you thought possible (unless you happen to be a sick bastard, and those people exist, sadly) and that is well...

I am still formulating many of my ideas, thoughts, chapters, essays, etc... and every time I think about what I want to do all I can do is smile at how blessed I have been. Even when I felt at my worst, someone would tell me 'hey, it's ok... it'll all work out'. Always... and you know what... it has, most times in the most unexpected of ways (here is where I thank the State department of all groups :) And that too is well...

So, more to come, more to write and more to say... after the jet lag settles.

C.

My Apologies...

I had been doing some writing but not really updating and therefore my apologies in this regard. Also, my Internet time has been limited and so I had to ignore blogging in favor of making sure I could get certain emails. Such is the way of things. Still, once I return home, I will do some updating and begin working on another writing project regarding my own travel experiences here in New Zealand and other roads I have traveled... whether forgiven or not (sorry, little joke regarding one of my poems :) In any event, I shall do more soon and try and add some of the pieces I have written in the past week or so as I can. Until then...

C.

In LA...

Well, visiting my sister this weekend before I leave. Actually, I leave tonight at 10:30 PST and get into Auckland at about 6:30 on the 16th (so about 12:30 pm CST on the 15th, for those of you at home :) I've had a wonderful visit, though I am most certainly ready to take my leave. Really, it has been a great way to start the trip and most auspicious, so nothing like a lot of good energy to take with me on a long voyage.

In any event, just a little update. Suffice to say, I am in good spirits regardless of everything, and am ready :)

C.

The Final Countdown...

Not that I am referring to the movie, though I did love it, and think it helped inspire many an alternate historian... simply the days are getting closer and time is starting to run out in a sense. I really started feeling it this weekend, saying goodbye to a few anime friends, though some of them will be at the last show I do before I leave, Realms Con in Corpus Christi. So, that will be fun I am sure. I suppose some of my friends did see the glint in my eye when I talked about it, how they know I could stay, or not stay, depending on how things work out. In the end, the choice will be mine and mine alone. While I appreciate advice and concerns, this is my show. I hope everyone I know can respect that at least. I know I have had some difficulty respecting myself in this matter... the only opinion that I should trust is mine. I have given a lot to many of my friends, to family, to those I have loved. I hope they can give me this solace in return. Time grows short... and I have yet another world to explore.

C.

25 Songs Revisited

Previously(maybe 2 years ago), I have posted my top 25 songs, books, and my top 100 films (which most people can't believe I did that one with commentary on each film... what can I say, I like lists :) However, tastes change (even mine sometimes), whether it be movies, books, or songs... a lot is still the same, but a few have changed since I introduced that list a couple of years back (which is a variation of an older list... ok, now I sound a bit... creepy). Anyway, I now offer another list, revised and expanded with commentary throughout... but you sort of figured on that score already.

25 Songs
1) 'Piano Man' by Billy Joel- For many reasons, this one will always stay number 1, though I am fond of the live Elton John/Billy Joel version.
2) 'Blue Eyes' by Elton John- A little hard to listen to these days, but it has been my favorite song by Elton John for a long, long time... baby's got blue eyes... and she's gone... again. c'est la vie
3) 'The Wanderer' by U2 (starring Johnny Cash)- This song just fits me, and anyone who has heard it would probably agree.
4) 'Music of the Night' by Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber- Always my favorite 'Phantom' song, and probably will remain so.
5) 'Tiny Dancer' by Elton John- One of the seminal moments in 'Almost Famous/Untitled' involves this song... a classic
6) 'Running on Faith' by Eric Clapton- A highly underrated song... really, really liked it when I was younger... now, I like it again.
7) 'One' by U2- There are three versions of this song I really love: 1. The original, which is a classic (regardless of what Jessie says about it :) 2. The Johnny Cash version... so mournful and 3. The live Sting/U2 w/ the LSO, so melodious and haunting, almost perfect.
8) 'Leningrad' by Billy Joel- In honor of our new old nemesis, the Russians, this song moves up the charts :) but a fine, fine song about the Cold War regardless
9) 'The Saga Begins' by Weird Al Yankovic- Satire and Star Wars at its best... doesn't get too much better, really.
10) 'I Can Feel It Coming Back Again' by Pearl Jam (live)- The live/acoustic version is so much better, and that much more haunting.
11) 'The Rainbow Connection' by Paul Williams (performed by Kermit the Frog)- Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me :)
12) 'Achilles, Agony and Ecstasy in Eight Parts' by ManOWar- ManOWar puts the heavy in Heavy Metal... and this song coming in at 30 minutes or so, is why Heavy Metal was created... and certainly appropriate if you know the types of songs ManOWar does.
13) 'The Last Song' by Elton John- Written about the death of Freddie Mercury, but became a song indicative of the early struggle against AIDS
14) 'Flash' by Queen- Speaking of Freddie Mercury...
15) 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers- I have enjoyed the Chili Peppers from time to time and have always enjoyed this song
16) 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' by The Beatles- I admit, there is a tribute version by Eric Clapton that is amazing, but any version of this song is awesome.
17) 'Sunday, Bloody Sunday' by U2- Hard to tell whose side Bono is on in this song... regardless, fantastic song.
18) 'Turn the Page' by Bob Seger- The original is still the best and may Metallica's shit version burn in hell...
19) 'Vincent' by Don McClean- A lovely, stirring tribute to a brilliant, though ultimately troubled artist (Van Gogh, for those that do not know the song).
20) 'Forever Young' by Alphaville- Who doesn't want to be forever young?
21) 'The Russians' by Sting- I suppose the Russians did love their children... but is a new generation listening? (actually its the same guys... Putin was ex-KGB after all... something about leopards and spots).
22) 'Highwayman' sung by Nelson, Cash, Kristofferson and Jennings- ah, quasi-country and reincarnation, how can you go wrong?
23) 'Hurt' by Trent Reznor (Johnny Cash version)- This version is so haunting and moving and, though Nine Inch Nails fans might disagree, blows the doors off the original version.
24) 'Baby Grand' by Billy Joel (with Ray Charles)- some classic piano playing blues... fantastic.
25) 'America' by Paul Simon- As a friend or two might agree, a great traveling song :)

Honorable mention: I sort of hesitate mentioning this, mostly for modesty's sake, but the guitar in it is amazing, even if the vocals... well, aren't good: 'Midnight Sea' by Chris Powell and Ilya Fedoravich (I am thinking I might get my brother Hunter to re-do this song, who is a far better singer and an amazing guitar player as well).

Well, that should cover it until I have nothing to do on a Tuesday afternoon, but considering the next couple of weeks of shows and leaving the country, I might not have too much time on my hands (go ahead, breathe that sigh of relief :)

C.

The Long Twilight

Just as an aside, some readers who have followed this blog for awhile might recognize the following poem, which is actually pieces of two poems (though mostly a title and ending change). It just seemed appropriate to modify it to this form and call it one piece...

When writing, I am a continuous editor, which I suspect might be a good trait. Often times, I will do what Frost used to do and let a poem or other work sit for a year or so, and when I come back to it, and I still like it, then it might be worth keeping... or at least refining. Virtually every poem I have written has gone through some variation or another (though I have a few notable, mayhap even incredible exceptions that some have read... or own a copy of :) It is the nature of writing, and also it gives me something to do when I am less inspired than normal. I hope that New Zealand will have the same effect on my inspiration that Australia or... others have had. In any event, the following poem is actually a fusion of a sort of two older poems, maybe a little maudlin, but I have always appreciated the metaphor of twilight and dreams (as many waking dreams occur for me in twilight, so...). On another note, this one actually rhymes, one of 4 or 5 that I have written that do... every now and then the nut finds the squirrel :)

'The Long Twilight'

I know the solace of regret...

Torn by choices from distant days
Sensing what could have been forlorn
Laid bare in full view
Of the nebulous light of 'morn.

I yearn for a memory of ignorance...

Borne from remnants of desire
Yielding to a truth that would not stay
Lost in the sorrow of desolation
Caressed by the shadows of a fading day.

I seek the embrace of absolution...

Coursing through veins of doubt
Removed from this soul's gentle light
Welcomed ever so warmly
Into the approaching wasteland of the night.

I am haunted by twilight...

C.

Today... and Tomorrow

Technically, I wrote this yesterday but forgot to post it... still, it applies to the rest of the week as well and the month as a whole... memories are like that for me I guess.

The shadows of a year ago today have weighed heavily upon my heart, and today... at least today perhaps, I am entitled to share that weight, maybe even all it entails. The day itself does not linger in shadow, only the illusion I allowed myself to believe. Now, it seems unreal, and yet, like other unreal moments, I live with the memories. My nature, for good or ill, compels me so. I cannot change that aspect of myself, nor should I want to, for in doing so, the best part of me dies. Without the inspiration of memory, I am less a man... merely a shadow of a shadow. Because of this, then, undue (or maybe due, who knows?) strain can haunt me, just as a pleasant thought erupts into a burst of creativity. Such is the dual conflict of one born under the Sign of Sorrows (that would be us Pisceans). Of course, astrology can be as much an excuse when one is a 'perfect' match as it can when you cast blame upon the stars for the nature of your heart. Really, it boils down to a decision: whether you decide to be a good person... or not. Indeed, it is the simplest decision of them all, the choice of the good heart and right action. Admittedly, right action might not necessarily be good, and what is good (or at least perceived to be so) might never be right. Most times, such things are in accord. Who I am is the result of my choices and feelings. Sure, all (or most) of you might have had a hand in molding my feelings and choices, but in the end, I have to be the one to decide, as do you all. Even in love... we make choices, even if it is to choose to say we have no choice, for it only gives us comfort in the decision that has already been made. Regardless, I understand.

So, today. For me, today, while a memory of something remarkable, is the path to tomorrow, though my tomorrow looms closer than some but not so close as others. Today needs to be set aside in the memory of past joy, so that it will not burden tomorrow, especially for me... and you, all of you. At least I hope that today creates such memories, even if they might be a glance of a memory of some pleasant past, or the hope of a brighter future. The health of the wellspring of our soul needs such hopes, if even for a little while. I am not sure what my tomorrow might bring except the shuffling of my feet across a couple of large islands at the end of the world (or however I desire to travel, by car, train, bus, sheep, etc :) Still, it is all I know about tomorrow at the moment, and for now... all I need.

In the end, I have to wonder why it all matters, even after thinking I have come to some enlightened conclusion in a sometimes vague book. Maybe it is because we all matter to what awaits in the cradle of stars, or that we all, in some strange interconnected way, matter to each other (and some more than others, naturally). Or maybe I am still just a naive fool who can never quite wipe the stars from his eyes.

If it be so, then allow this fool his indulgence of memory. Some day, the memory might fade, like so many others... but not today.

To a brighter tomorrow,
C.

Home and Home Again

Well, this is more an update than anything else. I sort of feel like cheating adding this post, but I have made it back from the wilds of Baltimore and Iowa with a little more wherewithal to make my trip to New Zealand in three weeks (wow, sneaking up on me). I still have two more shows to do before the trip commences and I still have a few things to work on before I go. For now, I am going to get some rest this weekend and try to ignore... well, ignore what should have or might have been this week instead of what is... more on that later perhaps. But now, a little sleep... about all I can muster I think.

C.

A Year of Rebirth, Reckoning and...

I sit in a quasi empty hotel room drowning out the decadent noise of the television and the incessant snoring of a co-worker, who, by all accounts, is an ass, though sometimes entertaining, and at least works (unlike James who randomly disappears when he is needed most during setup and tear down). I still have to spend another week or so on the road with him, including a couple of days of down time in the DC area. Well, I get to see a few things I have not seen in awhile. Awhile... ironic at the moment and the time, for time is something I cannot escape. I am its eternal prisoner, as are we all. Yet, because (or perhaps in spite of) of my memory, time tears at me in ways most of us find easy to forget. Forget? Hardly, even when I want to. Memory is in the little things, you see, and while I can sometimes be dense, I am quite observant, and the little things... they always seem to take me at the worst possible of moments. Needless to say, this can be no one's fault save my own and the nature of the way I see the world and how I reconcile thought and memory. As such, I feel the weight of my past, the weight of this year in ways that require probably more alcohol or drugs than I can safely consume to dull the stains of this year.

Remarkably, much of the year was special, and I could never forget that... nor should I ever want to, even if others must. In a way, I have to remember, if only for posterity, and I do take pride in my desire for posterity. I admit to being prideful in such ways, but not as prideful as others might think. I have re-discovered the nature of my pride, the nature of my own dignity and the power of forgiveness in ways I never wanted to consider. Still, the experience helped me forge something greater for my own future even my present (and past) still give me pause. That is the nature of my soul... and ultimately, my sins.

I understand that some may not want to read this (though if you got this far, might as well finish :) and others may simply ignore what might seem a disconsolate attempt at what... something foolish? Contrary to many opinions, I am hardly a fool. I was certainly naive and unwilling to see what was plainly obvious, but I was in love... what was I supposed to do? In the end, I have only done what a man desperately in love would have done, and if any one claims they would have done otherwise, I challenge them to look deep into the core of their heart, the wellspring of their very soul and question the nature of love itself. For my part, I could have done no less, and regrettably at times, no more. And those of you who truly know me... you know the truth in my actions. They were borne of only one thing, borne of the truth in my soul. And if you still do not understand, then you never knew me.

I admit, during this strange, terrible and wonderful year, I made many mistakes, far less than some might think, more than I would have liked. But I have only done what I thought was right for those I cared about most, and still care about in the ways I still can. I gave everything to my words and to love. The reality, though, haunts me. I wonder if I can ever do so again...

Now, I face the world on my own, as I had been doing for so many years. Much of my life has been on the terms of others... in the next couple of months, at least, everything will be on my terms. I feel I have earned a little respite, even if whatever else I have earned in this life will remain hidden until I can allow someone else the privilege of seeing the world through my eyes again. It is not what I want, perhaps even deserve... but it is what I must do. I can only ask for your understanding and respect in these matters, as I have tried to be as understanding in return to everyone I have called friend.

I do not know where I am going, and for once I am glad of it.

C.