- "What's the matter boy? Too cowardly to take a life?"
- (lowers sword) "It's not mine to take."
My favorite words from the Disney movie version of Prince Caspian. Peter and Miraz had been dueling. Realizing his helpless position, Miraz calls for respite. Peter chivalrously grants it, but as he turns to walk away, Miraz moves to attack the unarmed Narnian King from behind. After a sequence of largely hand-to-hand combat, Miraz is found on his knees at the feet of Peter, who has the sword poised to administer the fatal slash. No one moves. In the rush of anger and hate and adreneline, in the heat of battle, these words are whispered. Peter would not kill an unarmed man, even one who has destroyed the kingdom Peter has been given and led and loved, and who was ready to kill Peter in cold blood only moments before. Peter holds himself to a higher standard. His body, his emotions, and his mind are swirling, but he has kept a stable truth at the center of every action. He will not kill an unarmed man, even if it seems justifiable. He shows mercy where it wasn't shown to him. And Aslan returns shortly thereafter.
This is Home
by Switchfoot
I've got my memories
always inside of me
but I can't go back,
back to how it was.
I believe you now.
I've come too far.
No I can't go back,
back to how it was.
Oh, oh, oh.
I'm moving forward.
So every day starts with a magic spark
I got my hopes high with the second start
So you give yourself away with your miracle heart
Yeah, just to be alive is a magic art
We are miracles
every breath is magic
Belief over misery
I've seen the enemy
and I won't go back
back to how it was
and I got my heart set
on what happens next
I got my eyes wide
it's not over yet
we are miracles and we're not alone
That's when every day starts with a magic spark
I got my hopes high with the second start
we are miracles, every breath is magic
That's when you give yourself away with your miracle heart.
Yeah, just to be alive is a magic art
We are miracles, every breath is magic.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Politics over Purpose... Head over Heels
I feel like an idiot. Like I've stood here and watched the world make a fool of me. I feel like I'm lost. I don't feel like I belong here in this place, even though there are many people here I call my family. I feel like I'm expected to compromise everything I am and who I would like to believe I am, to become part of the world. A part of me wants to comply. I've let that part of me lead for a while, and I feel hollow because of it. I am now disappointed in so many things, in the world, in other people who I can now see have given in to the lies I'm now facing, but mostly in myself for so easily letting go of all I've had that's worth clinging to, everything worth dying for. It's certainly worth living for.
I want to fall in love with it all again. I don't want to believe in myself. I don't want to confine myself to me. I want to experience Heaven on Earth, I want to help create it here, building it up out of the rubble of Eden. I want to choose Life. I choose Life over mere existance, no matter what the price. I want to truly remember, and maybe come to know, that the problems and the answers alike are much deeper than the surface, that mere action is never the answer, that without Grace there is no healing, there is no life. I want every day to feel like the miracle it is. I want to see a soul worth the Blood of God in every set of eyes I meet.
But this is only what I want.
There seems to be two highly contrasting images that symbolize power to different people.
The first image is of power, recognition, a finished touch to themselves. This image could involve any number of different goals, but some of the more common ones could include: tall buildings in the middle of the city; people swarming the streets, each always with somewhere else to be, never settled; cars glistening in the lights, whether they be natural or spot; neatly cared for, large, air conditioned homes; carefully pruned and groomed gardens and lawns; personal physical appearance meets the ideal of the current culture.
The second image is something like this: a man on a cross on a hill surrounded by people in a shadow. Blood, sweat, saliva, and tears create the only layer separating Him from His creation. Pain, Abandonment, Fear, Courage, Love saturate the air. It cannot be proven, only experienced.
If you never kneel, you can never receive a Crown.
When I compromise anything that actually matters, and I water it down or bend it or totally break it or simply ignore it, it is impossible for me to actually hold it as the center of my life. If I'm not willing to live for it, I could not be willing to die for it. If I'm not prepared to die for something greater than me, I see only one reason to continue living. The one reason is necessary and it is enough, but more is possible.
So all those "wants" I listed, what will I do about them?
This hole I find myself in begin whens my dream alters to fit this third dimension. When it's lost, you're alone. When it's there, you're empty because all you define yourself by is surrounding you, not inside. The hollow spheres shatter easily, not to mention the inconsistancy of their rolling, should they survive. They are slaves to gravity.
In one blinding and deadly motion, I forfeit the foundation and the structure. Gravity is pressing me, suffocating me. I feel my weakness, and I cave.
Never turn your back on a known enemy.
But what if you find that enemy in yourself?
Head Over Heels (In This Life)
By Switchfoot
Head over here and take me
Head over heels I'm aching
When I told you I was yours
I was yours
In this life, you're the one place I call home
In this life, you're the feeling I belong
In this life, you're the flower and the thorn
You're everything that's fair in love and war
I'm coming down like a gunshot
In all these battles I've fought
You're the mark I'm aiming for
I was yours
Head over heels
In this life I'm stubborn to the core
In this life I've been burning after more
We both know what these open arms are for
You're everything that's fair
In this life, you're my only one
I want to fall in love with it all again. I don't want to believe in myself. I don't want to confine myself to me. I want to experience Heaven on Earth, I want to help create it here, building it up out of the rubble of Eden. I want to choose Life. I choose Life over mere existance, no matter what the price. I want to truly remember, and maybe come to know, that the problems and the answers alike are much deeper than the surface, that mere action is never the answer, that without Grace there is no healing, there is no life. I want every day to feel like the miracle it is. I want to see a soul worth the Blood of God in every set of eyes I meet.
But this is only what I want.
There seems to be two highly contrasting images that symbolize power to different people.
The first image is of power, recognition, a finished touch to themselves. This image could involve any number of different goals, but some of the more common ones could include: tall buildings in the middle of the city; people swarming the streets, each always with somewhere else to be, never settled; cars glistening in the lights, whether they be natural or spot; neatly cared for, large, air conditioned homes; carefully pruned and groomed gardens and lawns; personal physical appearance meets the ideal of the current culture.
The second image is something like this: a man on a cross on a hill surrounded by people in a shadow. Blood, sweat, saliva, and tears create the only layer separating Him from His creation. Pain, Abandonment, Fear, Courage, Love saturate the air. It cannot be proven, only experienced.
If you never kneel, you can never receive a Crown.
When I compromise anything that actually matters, and I water it down or bend it or totally break it or simply ignore it, it is impossible for me to actually hold it as the center of my life. If I'm not willing to live for it, I could not be willing to die for it. If I'm not prepared to die for something greater than me, I see only one reason to continue living. The one reason is necessary and it is enough, but more is possible.
So all those "wants" I listed, what will I do about them?
This hole I find myself in begin whens my dream alters to fit this third dimension. When it's lost, you're alone. When it's there, you're empty because all you define yourself by is surrounding you, not inside. The hollow spheres shatter easily, not to mention the inconsistancy of their rolling, should they survive. They are slaves to gravity.
In one blinding and deadly motion, I forfeit the foundation and the structure. Gravity is pressing me, suffocating me. I feel my weakness, and I cave.
Never turn your back on a known enemy.
But what if you find that enemy in yourself?
Head Over Heels (In This Life)
By Switchfoot
Head over here and take me
Head over heels I'm aching
When I told you I was yours
I was yours
In this life, you're the one place I call home
In this life, you're the feeling I belong
In this life, you're the flower and the thorn
You're everything that's fair in love and war
I'm coming down like a gunshot
In all these battles I've fought
You're the mark I'm aiming for
I was yours
Head over heels
In this life I'm stubborn to the core
In this life I've been burning after more
We both know what these open arms are for
You're everything that's fair
In this life, you're my only one
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Let Me Know
The other night, I couldn't sleep. My body would not shut down and neither would my mind. I was running on thoughts. I realized that I have never made a particular statement. Since that sleepless night, it has occured to me that even though the statement is true, I have no right to make it.
I've noticed that the stereotypical 4-year-old girl is dressed as a princess, waving her wand, keeping her kingdom in order. The stereotypical 4-year-old boy would be wearing a red firefighter's helmet, pushing a matching toy fire engine. In his imagination, perhaps he's climbing the ladder to reach the top floor of the burning building and snatch a trapped soul away from the flames. I can't help but think of the prince, waking Aurora from the spell in the tallest tower, as she lay helpless and cornered by the fire-breathing dragon. C.S. Lewis's Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve were kings and queens, they were children, and Narnia experienced peace and joy during their reign. At the sight of a tiara, there's something inside every female that always leaps toward it, while the rest of her holds her back. There's something about the idea of living in a palace that is attractive, thus we see mansions continue to appear in rather obscure locations as well as in everyday scenery, and always, always in the stories of the culture. The average American's house is more luxurious than the homes of most of the Kings of the world. Does this knowledge cause you to look at your home any differently? At your lifestyle any differently? At your life any differently?
Every human being is in fact royalty. We are born believing it, but we are taught to compare ourselves to the people around us. We allow ourselves to be jaded into living as if we're all the same. But we were made for more than what we know.
We begin to judge ourselves by what we own, where we come from, where we're going, our intelligence, our habits, what we do, who we know, what other people say or think about us, etc. And we continue to judge others and judge ourselves, and create an image for who we want to become. We forget who we are now, and how to see that it is good. We forget what good looks like. And we wonder why we are not content. And our attempt to create happiness for ourselves continues.
"As time rolls by
my dreams have become
that which is attainable:
not what I'm looking for!"
~ "Company Car"
There's a scene in the movie "The Little Princess" where Sarah, the rich motherless girl from India, argues with Miss Minchin, the head of the boarding school to which Sarah was sent by her father when he enlisted. He has since gone missing in action. Miss Minchin has just mocked Sarah's stories she would tell the other girls of being an Indian princess, as Sarah is currently a servant, dressed in poor clothes, living in a drafty attic, not allowed to socialize with anyone. The following is Sarah's response to Miss Minchin's stinging insults: "I AM a princess! ALL girls are. Even if they're dressed in rags, even if they aren't pretty or smart or young, they're still princesses! All of us. Didn't your father ever tell you that? DIDN'T HE?"
In "Braveheart", there's a scene where the Prince bribes Wallace to end the crusade he began against oppression, tyranny, and injustice, by offering him lands, the title of a Noble, whatever he may ask for. Wallace turns around and responds: "Now tell me, what does that mean to be Noble?"
It's not titles, or property, or power. It's none of these materials we fill our loveless and numbered days with. It's none of the pursuits I see in the lonely and lost eyes of the wandering people in this city, as they spin, victimized in the circles they themselves create. The desire is there, the fulfillment is not. The desire to be something, or someone, greater.
Man has declared the pursuit of happiness a right. Because the pursuit of true happiness means the pursuit of the right to say "I am a Prince." or "I am a Princess." Not a Prince or Princess in the sense of paparazzi, and scandal, and fleets of jets, and diamond adornments in every crack and crevice of the body. No, a true royal would see that less is more, they would not think it below themselves to become a servant. Willing self-surrender and honor are inseparable. Similar to God and freedom. No one can earn the right to claim to be a true Princess or Prince, because it's a gift freely received, and the price was the highest.
I am pursuing the right. I know I'll never deserve it. But I know there's better than what I see. And if there's not, I would rather spend my life pursuing this dream than settling for this otherwise lifeless world.
"Let me know that You hear me.
Let me know Your touch.
Let me know that You love me,
and let that be enough."
~ "Let That Be Enough"
I've noticed that the stereotypical 4-year-old girl is dressed as a princess, waving her wand, keeping her kingdom in order. The stereotypical 4-year-old boy would be wearing a red firefighter's helmet, pushing a matching toy fire engine. In his imagination, perhaps he's climbing the ladder to reach the top floor of the burning building and snatch a trapped soul away from the flames. I can't help but think of the prince, waking Aurora from the spell in the tallest tower, as she lay helpless and cornered by the fire-breathing dragon. C.S. Lewis's Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve were kings and queens, they were children, and Narnia experienced peace and joy during their reign. At the sight of a tiara, there's something inside every female that always leaps toward it, while the rest of her holds her back. There's something about the idea of living in a palace that is attractive, thus we see mansions continue to appear in rather obscure locations as well as in everyday scenery, and always, always in the stories of the culture. The average American's house is more luxurious than the homes of most of the Kings of the world. Does this knowledge cause you to look at your home any differently? At your lifestyle any differently? At your life any differently?
Every human being is in fact royalty. We are born believing it, but we are taught to compare ourselves to the people around us. We allow ourselves to be jaded into living as if we're all the same. But we were made for more than what we know.
We begin to judge ourselves by what we own, where we come from, where we're going, our intelligence, our habits, what we do, who we know, what other people say or think about us, etc. And we continue to judge others and judge ourselves, and create an image for who we want to become. We forget who we are now, and how to see that it is good. We forget what good looks like. And we wonder why we are not content. And our attempt to create happiness for ourselves continues.
"As time rolls by
my dreams have become
that which is attainable:
not what I'm looking for!"
~ "Company Car"
There's a scene in the movie "The Little Princess" where Sarah, the rich motherless girl from India, argues with Miss Minchin, the head of the boarding school to which Sarah was sent by her father when he enlisted. He has since gone missing in action. Miss Minchin has just mocked Sarah's stories she would tell the other girls of being an Indian princess, as Sarah is currently a servant, dressed in poor clothes, living in a drafty attic, not allowed to socialize with anyone. The following is Sarah's response to Miss Minchin's stinging insults: "I AM a princess! ALL girls are. Even if they're dressed in rags, even if they aren't pretty or smart or young, they're still princesses! All of us. Didn't your father ever tell you that? DIDN'T HE?"
In "Braveheart", there's a scene where the Prince bribes Wallace to end the crusade he began against oppression, tyranny, and injustice, by offering him lands, the title of a Noble, whatever he may ask for. Wallace turns around and responds: "Now tell me, what does that mean to be Noble?"
It's not titles, or property, or power. It's none of these materials we fill our loveless and numbered days with. It's none of the pursuits I see in the lonely and lost eyes of the wandering people in this city, as they spin, victimized in the circles they themselves create. The desire is there, the fulfillment is not. The desire to be something, or someone, greater.
Man has declared the pursuit of happiness a right. Because the pursuit of true happiness means the pursuit of the right to say "I am a Prince." or "I am a Princess." Not a Prince or Princess in the sense of paparazzi, and scandal, and fleets of jets, and diamond adornments in every crack and crevice of the body. No, a true royal would see that less is more, they would not think it below themselves to become a servant. Willing self-surrender and honor are inseparable. Similar to God and freedom. No one can earn the right to claim to be a true Princess or Prince, because it's a gift freely received, and the price was the highest.
I am pursuing the right. I know I'll never deserve it. But I know there's better than what I see. And if there's not, I would rather spend my life pursuing this dream than settling for this otherwise lifeless world.
"Let me know that You hear me.
Let me know Your touch.
Let me know that You love me,
and let that be enough."
~ "Let That Be Enough"
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Little by Little
The school year is over. High school is over. I am not sure what I am feeling right now. I am 17. I am expected by some to know how I will be spending my life in a quarter of a century. It seems I am supposed to be confident in the decisions I am making right now, but these are the first decisions of this size that I am making. And only I can make them. And they will determine the rest of my life.
Maybe I'm taking it too seriously.
Maybe I'm not taking it seriously enough.
High school didn't teach me how to make decisions. High school taught me to not take myself too seriously, because I have no idea what I'm doing. High school taught me to not take what other people say and do too seriously because they're just as clueless as I am. High school taught me that the people in charge, the people running the show, don't know the plot themselves. For all of their directions and advice and demands, they're trying to come up with a story as they go. High school has taught me that the story of the play they are trying to direct is written as it's performed, by the actors, the students.
High school has taught me that no one really knows what they're doing. And that's ok.
So we fill our days with worksheets and the memorization of facts that are relevent to little, each of us trying to write our own stories line by line, letter by letter, little by little.
High school has taught me that life is lived little by little.
Now about those life-altering decisions...
"Today is ours,
condemned to be free.
I'm free to keep breathing..."
~ "Sooner or Later"
Maybe I'm taking it too seriously.
Maybe I'm not taking it seriously enough.
High school didn't teach me how to make decisions. High school taught me to not take myself too seriously, because I have no idea what I'm doing. High school taught me to not take what other people say and do too seriously because they're just as clueless as I am. High school taught me that the people in charge, the people running the show, don't know the plot themselves. For all of their directions and advice and demands, they're trying to come up with a story as they go. High school has taught me that the story of the play they are trying to direct is written as it's performed, by the actors, the students.
High school has taught me that no one really knows what they're doing. And that's ok.
So we fill our days with worksheets and the memorization of facts that are relevent to little, each of us trying to write our own stories line by line, letter by letter, little by little.
High school has taught me that life is lived little by little.
Now about those life-altering decisions...
"Today is ours,
condemned to be free.
I'm free to keep breathing..."
~ "Sooner or Later"
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
what's in a name, really?
The fall of every great nation has begun with the disregard for human life. History proves it. People are meant to come before anything else in this material life. Becuase people are more than material. Much, much more.
I was daydreaming the other day. I was looking out the front window, at the leaves and grass and trees and road and houses and lake across the street. I was watching the leaves and grass especially. When the wind blew, only the leaves that trapped themselves between the blades of grass didn't move. The rest easily floated on the ground, above the grass, continually moving, without rest, freely lending themselves to the unknown and the uncontrolled. Those leaves could easily be moved from one side of the yard to the other, in no time at all.
I have this symbolic visual of the world/my world in my head. The Earth is normal - universe, clouds, sky, atmosphere, forests/cities/mountains, ground, core of earth. This is as the world should be, everything about it works with the rest to support life. It makes the most sense, with gravity being the foundation of the entire order. Humanity, in our fallen state, desires more, or what we perceive to be more. We decide that we are not content with the ground beneath our feet, we want the clouds beneath us. We attempt to defy gravity like the clouds, but our weight keeps us safe un the ground where we can't fall any lower. We jump till we're upside down, the world turns inside out, it goes flat, and most of us are lost. People can be seen drifting off into nothing, because they succeeded in defying gravity. Not everyone is lost in nothingness, though. Some people clung to the poles penetrating every layer of the world just before it flipped, the poles that hold everything together, the poles working for gravity, because they are part of gravity. When gravity releases the world and leaves humanity to deal with what we do, these poles, these constants remain. Only the people ready in the moment of world transformation are safe. The constants are the absolute truth, what is essential to Life in every sense, what will never change. There will always be suffering. There will always be sacrifice and pain of every kind. The power struggles will continue, and the common, plain, everyday people will always exist. Within these people lie the force of the world. Unfortunately, these individuals are silenced by the powers that be, because they are individuals. Unity is powerful. Fear is paralyzing. Life always finds a way to continue. Death continues to find a way to leech.
"Is there any honest song to sing besides these blues?"
Suffering, pain, smallness, individuals, plainness, commonness, death are the constants of life. These instill fear, but they are the sources of our strength. They are our constants. They are true. When the world forgets itself, these become the new desire and the new hope. They preserve life.
Spirit
By Switchfoot
Spirit, fall fresh on me (2x)
Hear my cry, fill my life
I won't need anything but You
I found all that I want, all that I longed for in You (2x)
Wasted time, is when I'm far from Your truth
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You
Spirit, come be my joy (2x)
Be my song, fill my lungs
I wont need anything but You
I found all that I want, all that I longed for in You (2x)
Wasted time, is when I'm far from Your truth
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You (2x)
Wasted time is when I'm far from Your truth
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You
All that I want, all that I long for in You
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You (2x)
I've found all that I want, all that I long for is You
Yes, You're all that I want, all that I long for is You
I was daydreaming the other day. I was looking out the front window, at the leaves and grass and trees and road and houses and lake across the street. I was watching the leaves and grass especially. When the wind blew, only the leaves that trapped themselves between the blades of grass didn't move. The rest easily floated on the ground, above the grass, continually moving, without rest, freely lending themselves to the unknown and the uncontrolled. Those leaves could easily be moved from one side of the yard to the other, in no time at all.
I have this symbolic visual of the world/my world in my head. The Earth is normal - universe, clouds, sky, atmosphere, forests/cities/mountains, ground, core of earth. This is as the world should be, everything about it works with the rest to support life. It makes the most sense, with gravity being the foundation of the entire order. Humanity, in our fallen state, desires more, or what we perceive to be more. We decide that we are not content with the ground beneath our feet, we want the clouds beneath us. We attempt to defy gravity like the clouds, but our weight keeps us safe un the ground where we can't fall any lower. We jump till we're upside down, the world turns inside out, it goes flat, and most of us are lost. People can be seen drifting off into nothing, because they succeeded in defying gravity. Not everyone is lost in nothingness, though. Some people clung to the poles penetrating every layer of the world just before it flipped, the poles that hold everything together, the poles working for gravity, because they are part of gravity. When gravity releases the world and leaves humanity to deal with what we do, these poles, these constants remain. Only the people ready in the moment of world transformation are safe. The constants are the absolute truth, what is essential to Life in every sense, what will never change. There will always be suffering. There will always be sacrifice and pain of every kind. The power struggles will continue, and the common, plain, everyday people will always exist. Within these people lie the force of the world. Unfortunately, these individuals are silenced by the powers that be, because they are individuals. Unity is powerful. Fear is paralyzing. Life always finds a way to continue. Death continues to find a way to leech.
"Is there any honest song to sing besides these blues?"
Suffering, pain, smallness, individuals, plainness, commonness, death are the constants of life. These instill fear, but they are the sources of our strength. They are our constants. They are true. When the world forgets itself, these become the new desire and the new hope. They preserve life.
Spirit
By Switchfoot
Spirit, fall fresh on me (2x)
Hear my cry, fill my life
I won't need anything but You
I found all that I want, all that I longed for in You (2x)
Wasted time, is when I'm far from Your truth
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You
Spirit, come be my joy (2x)
Be my song, fill my lungs
I wont need anything but You
I found all that I want, all that I longed for in You (2x)
Wasted time, is when I'm far from Your truth
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You (2x)
Wasted time is when I'm far from Your truth
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You
All that I want, all that I long for in You
I've found all that I want, all that I long for in You (2x)
I've found all that I want, all that I long for is You
Yes, You're all that I want, all that I long for is You
Saturday, February 27, 2010
A Thought On Song
When I listen to some songs, I want to vomit. In these, I hear deceit, pain, fear, the cry of the lost, despair convinced it's found life in emptiness. There is no beauty to be found in these, no art, no love, no life.
When I listen to other songs I get a headache because they have no true substance, yet have the following of nations bc of the name or company backing them, they would never thrive even if they did manage to survive in the music market for the songs themselves.
When I listen to other songs, I start laughing bc they view a serious or ordinary object or action in a completely unconventional yet truthful light that makes it seem totally different. The idea would be considered insane if the song didn't explain it, but even after the song ends the conventional continues unphased.
When I listen to other songs, I start daydreaming and I allow the music to carry me somewhere I've never been.
When I listen to other songs, I begin to think and question and doubt enough to not feel secure in what I take for granted, they point me back toward what I value, toward death and love and life and suffering, toward the unseen realities. They remind me to remind myself of the significance of existance and what it all comes down to, what matters most.
Then there are songs that cause me to forget how to breathe. These are the songs that capture a moment of beauty and convert it into an auditory portrait that leaves me wishing it possible to jump into the canvas of soundwaves, leaving the world behind forever, living in that moment of relative bliss. Is it possible?
"It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. 'Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars.'
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness."
~ twloha.com
Is it possible?
When I listen to other songs I get a headache because they have no true substance, yet have the following of nations bc of the name or company backing them, they would never thrive even if they did manage to survive in the music market for the songs themselves.
When I listen to other songs, I start laughing bc they view a serious or ordinary object or action in a completely unconventional yet truthful light that makes it seem totally different. The idea would be considered insane if the song didn't explain it, but even after the song ends the conventional continues unphased.
When I listen to other songs, I start daydreaming and I allow the music to carry me somewhere I've never been.
When I listen to other songs, I begin to think and question and doubt enough to not feel secure in what I take for granted, they point me back toward what I value, toward death and love and life and suffering, toward the unseen realities. They remind me to remind myself of the significance of existance and what it all comes down to, what matters most.
Then there are songs that cause me to forget how to breathe. These are the songs that capture a moment of beauty and convert it into an auditory portrait that leaves me wishing it possible to jump into the canvas of soundwaves, leaving the world behind forever, living in that moment of relative bliss. Is it possible?
"It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. 'Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars.'
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness."
~ twloha.com
Is it possible?
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