Literally here, in this blog, on your computer screen.
A string of events in the last year have lead me to this place where not much and absolutely everything are happening at the same time, and I love it.
First, a farmer broke my heart. The impression I got was that he would rather be shot in the head than marry me, which was the closest figurative shot to the heart I’ve ever had to feeling the pain of a literal bullet wound. But I digress.
The dialogue of this unique breakup ran in the back of my mind for the better part of two months, and I drowned it out with guitar chords and the sound of my feet pounding the pavement. In retrospect, this event wasn’t actually as catastrophic as I originally thought and I don’t hate the guy; some things just don’t work. But in that moment, by being broken down, I was able to build myself back up into more than the shadow person whose creative voice barely reached a whisper. I spent about two months obsessed with music and lyrics and in love with my guitar until I met someone else, and my voice slowly faded into an echo once again.
But before that, I met this band. Getting to know the people behind the music is one of the coolest things to me, and I realized that these were normal guys who, like everyone, made a choice. A musician friend told me that you can gamble on your money, but never gamble on your happiness. This band, probably like all bands, was faced with this gamble, and I’m sure you can guess what they chose. Now I’m not saying I’m running away and starting a band, and I’m not discounting and denying the “real world.” But what I am saying is that life is about choices, and happiness is a choice you can choose to make or throw away. In this pursuit, I realized I don’t want to wake up every day knowing that my dream is someone else’s reality.
After the band and bullet wound breakup, I followed a man in his van. It was the old kind with sliding doors perfect for making people disappear, and I met him and my fate at a gas station to look at a guitar (Spoiler alert: I’m still here). I’m sure I’ll hear about this wise decision later, but the conversation I had that day impacted my life tremendously.
He told me I could do it, and that it doesn’t take born talent, but hard work. And I believed him. It was the first time I truly allowed my love for music to run wild and unbridled outside of a daydream. Even through minor setbacks and distractions, music has always been in the back of my mind, and I seek it out constantly through every means possible.
For today, that means playing my guitar, seeing artists live, and telling a small portion of the world how I feel about it.
So what exactly is going on now? Not much and absolutely everything.