There's something nastolgic about airports. The way people pass in a hurry, I always wonder where they are going. There's the traveling to a new place or maybe a familiar place. Within hours into a missile through different time zones and 35,000 feet from the world. I love every second of it.
People with venti coffees and rollar bags. People looking tired and dated usually the ones sitting up at the bar before noon. There's nothing special that happened today with a layover as slow as molasses, I get to people watch in Detriot. It's a sleepy town, the energy of people is low. Not low as in depressed, low like easy going. I can feel the moment I leave New York that time slows down. It's very subtle but it happens the moment the plane lifts from the ground something happens. Then you land somewhere and there's space and slow moving people. All my familiar things. There's the waitress that is sweet and attentive. A coffee takes at least 5 minutes here. It's nice. I am never rushing. New York is a lot of rushing just to wait, here you kinda just settle in to the natural flow of simpler times. The difference between the 2 sometimes confuses me.
It takes me 2 days to snap out of New York but once I do it's a beautiful thing. It's almost like I smoked a joint in what feels like a high haze the sky becomes bluer. Like each minute I can feel and it's long. I sleep better. My 8 year old self surfaces again and from deep within I am happy mostly because I am home. It's all I have ever known.
Going home is crucial, some people try to erase that side of themselves as if that's possible. It's a giant reminder of where you came from and where you are going. I'm just lucky cause I get the best of both worlds.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
When I was a Morgage Broker.
This city breaks you down. It's like concrete that's wet, your feet never quite make it. I still think of memories of days I didn't need to think as much. This city is a bomb. A game. A stream of people just at best, trying. Falling in love then in hate with it. Dealing with the ego and peoples "stuff". I wonder what the world is like to not want something, badly. Or only want certain things, badly.
I was a mortgage broker once. Sitting in a cubical field so deep you get lost. I had to mark what row I was in with a marker for the first 2 weeks. I drove in and watched the sunrise and home when the sunset. Then I didn't want much, I wasn't happy though. It was a nice world to live in when your just kinda living. Doing the normal, following what you've been taught. I loved the money. We had office potlucks filled with taco dip and something in a crockpot. I sat in meeting that allowed me to daydream. Ate lunch at 12:15 and took a 30 minute break. For me I always took an hour.
A woman one day that never moved from her desk, fell asleep. This woman that never said a word and never ate lunch. One day I watched her. While the work pilled up, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. That day she fell asleep amongst the work week. That was the day I thought I would die not doing what I love. If then and only then, I wouldn't want to sleep for I would miss it. That's the thing about dreams, you always think the grass is greener.
I just know one thing, life is short. In this consciousness for what we know you must do what you love. You take the bad and the good, realizing it's only part of it but totally worth it in the end.
I was a mortgage broker once. Sitting in a cubical field so deep you get lost. I had to mark what row I was in with a marker for the first 2 weeks. I drove in and watched the sunrise and home when the sunset. Then I didn't want much, I wasn't happy though. It was a nice world to live in when your just kinda living. Doing the normal, following what you've been taught. I loved the money. We had office potlucks filled with taco dip and something in a crockpot. I sat in meeting that allowed me to daydream. Ate lunch at 12:15 and took a 30 minute break. For me I always took an hour.
A woman one day that never moved from her desk, fell asleep. This woman that never said a word and never ate lunch. One day I watched her. While the work pilled up, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. That day she fell asleep amongst the work week. That was the day I thought I would die not doing what I love. If then and only then, I wouldn't want to sleep for I would miss it. That's the thing about dreams, you always think the grass is greener.
I just know one thing, life is short. In this consciousness for what we know you must do what you love. You take the bad and the good, realizing it's only part of it but totally worth it in the end.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Where Did The Dreamer Go?
I do it for the child in me.
That secret spot.
Where nobody went.
Climbing trees.
Being kids.
Freedom.
It's a magical thing,
when you underestimate it.
Grass clippings become things.
Blood shot eyes filled with chlorine.
But we played.
We were only kids.
Not a care in the world.
Maybe thats the secret.
Those were the days.
Forts?
Shall we...
Bedding is off limits.
Pull table chairs from kitchen table.
When you were free,
To be a child.
Then you get older.
Wiser.
Growth is one thing,
Progress is another.
But to be a child,
Or to know better.
That secret spot.
Where nobody went.
Climbing trees.
Being kids.
Freedom.
It's a magical thing,
when you underestimate it.
Grass clippings become things.
Blood shot eyes filled with chlorine.
But we played.
We were only kids.
Not a care in the world.
Maybe thats the secret.
Those were the days.
Forts?
Shall we...
Bedding is off limits.
Pull table chairs from kitchen table.
When you were free,
To be a child.
Then you get older.
Wiser.
Growth is one thing,
Progress is another.
But to be a child,
Or to know better.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Maybe it's Me.
I sometimes have fear that it will all go away. That every step I have taken will magically disappear overnight like ripples in a pond. That the thing I have worked so hard for will be lost in a moment. I always fear in something that perhaps doesn't exist. Fear governs us all is not just within myself. I wonder a lot of things. What would happen if I woke up and it was over, is it ever really over? I stood on what felt like the edge of the world and declared to the world I was ready, but was I? Neivness is crucial because if we knew everything what would be the fun? Is this really fun though? The struggle, if it was supposed to be why does it seem so fragile? The questions flood my mind like a river with no dam. I always question, I always ask why. The discontent I always feel has helped me but could Manhattan be slowly slipping away from my grip. When this lease goes up will it find me again? Did I ever have it?
I wonder sometimes if I loved it more then it loved me. You must be careful what you wish for. I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night, look around my room and feel content with my desicion. Although I'm never content with where I am at. Like a shadow, most days I wonder if this is it. Have I reached my point? Did I do everything and could I go away? I guess that's the thing about dreams. It takes a life of their own, exceeding expectations you never knew and taking you on a ride you didn't foresee. With your original idea in mind, life happens and you find yourself analyzing if people understand it or if it fully was brought to life the way in which you saw it.
What's there to be afraid of? I know this life is short and I know you only live it once, this fact doesn't scare me. Leaving New York scares me. But why? As if I couldn't do this anywhere else or perhaps I wouldn't be pushed the way in which Gotham does. It will peel you out of your skin. It's ruthless even if you start out nice. To what extent do you need a city to capture your dream? When is it time to go? Most people don't make it a year, I'm almost on 3. Maybe it's not even New York, maybe it's me.
Fighting for a dream ain't easy, but every fail and every tear has been worth it. New York brought out the fighter in me. Makes you realize why you do certaint things. When it comes to your life, you have to decide, once you do the path is then put in place. New York taught me that, we are all just people that have an idea. That thought certain things and get to see it unfold in front of us. That's a life worth living no matter where you live.
I wonder sometimes if I loved it more then it loved me. You must be careful what you wish for. I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night, look around my room and feel content with my desicion. Although I'm never content with where I am at. Like a shadow, most days I wonder if this is it. Have I reached my point? Did I do everything and could I go away? I guess that's the thing about dreams. It takes a life of their own, exceeding expectations you never knew and taking you on a ride you didn't foresee. With your original idea in mind, life happens and you find yourself analyzing if people understand it or if it fully was brought to life the way in which you saw it.
What's there to be afraid of? I know this life is short and I know you only live it once, this fact doesn't scare me. Leaving New York scares me. But why? As if I couldn't do this anywhere else or perhaps I wouldn't be pushed the way in which Gotham does. It will peel you out of your skin. It's ruthless even if you start out nice. To what extent do you need a city to capture your dream? When is it time to go? Most people don't make it a year, I'm almost on 3. Maybe it's not even New York, maybe it's me.
Fighting for a dream ain't easy, but every fail and every tear has been worth it. New York brought out the fighter in me. Makes you realize why you do certaint things. When it comes to your life, you have to decide, once you do the path is then put in place. New York taught me that, we are all just people that have an idea. That thought certain things and get to see it unfold in front of us. That's a life worth living no matter where you live.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Say Fu💨k It.
I know that when you read this,
It will find you well.
The message, my dear.
Is deeper than the sky.
When you look up there's holes.
We call them stars.
My dear, listen.
I have seen you grow.
Seen you believe.
It's madness I tell you,
No matter how you cut it.
But if you don't at least try.
You might as well say "fuck it"
Monday, April 28, 2014
Album Release.
When I look around the faces, the people. All artists facing a journey that comes with no map, yet we still believe. When a life more simple lays within arms reach. I am a small town girl with just an idea. To be sown, from the moment a seed drops. When it meets the soil, it starts to grow. From a seed to a flower, it thought always it was bigger than it was. Perhaps hasn't been, yet.
I never thought, never. To be standing on the greatest stage of my life. To know my voice is all that is heard, it's never easy. I have the biggest falls with that, cause I don't know. When I write I can only be honest cause that's all I know. Truly. It's all I can give. I stood and saw the faces, the people.
My only wish is that they could see me. Hartlee, Turtle, Bird and Issac. To dream in this world is a splendid thing. Forever. I am who I am because of the children I love. Call me a dreamer, a believer but at least I'm honest.
From the bottom of my soul, the people that supported me tonight were beyond anything I could ever hope. Dream. A rare energy, an eclectic crowd. When I sang Mama, I saw eyes roll back into their heads, a thoughtful process. I knew then that it was worth it. Even if it was a handful. That the connector was beyond me, that a voice in music was needed. The binder is missing. I saw people put their iPhones down and converse and drink and be merry. Such a beautiful sight.
It's moments like this that I wonder, how did it come to be? But then I recall his face in the rear view mirror. The angels on my flight back from London. The wine I drank with my mom and my sisters after not sleeping for 32 hours. I remember walking in the most beautiful summer grass, and my toes getting wet from the dew that comes from a hot summer night. The sunshine was about to retire so the most golden of hue lite the sky. My finger tips love the feel of the cat tails that grow wild, although I'm weary of the poison ivy that greens right beside it. When you walk through the tunnel you will see the most gorgeous lake, if you happen to catch it at dusk consider yourself lucky. It was there I declared to the sky. It was there I said some magic words, that I wanted to make something beautiful out of something painful. That I trusted the world, whatever that may be. 3 years later I released To Be Sown and couldn't be more grateful.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Spring.
I remember now.
So foundly.
Like the way wet grass feels in the summer.
Despite the weather
The rain that comes
The snow that goes.
The way the mushy earth feels.
I always look forward to sping.
As it reminds me to be reborn.
To try again,
To prevail,
And to turn another page.
Start, maybe.
Perhaps the worst is behind us.
Maybe it's not.
But soon,
That same brisk night will meet us again.
They will put on more layers.
Rush home at night.
They will moan about how muggy it is.
How they don't sleep right at night.
But tell me one thing...
When that seasons change
Can we remain the same?
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