Crystal Cheatham — Indie from the start

“One cannot tell what it is that keeps us in, confines us, seems to bury us, but still one feels certain barriers, certain gates, certain walls. Is all this imagination, fantasy? I do not think so. And then one asks: My God! Is it for long, is it for ever, is it for eternity? Do you know what frees one from this captivity? It is very deep serious affection. Being friends, being brothers, love, that is what opens the prison by supreme power, by some magic force.”
-Vincent van Gogh, letter to his brother, July 1880

I read that quote in the cover pages of Andrew Agassi’s new book Open. I’ve only begun the read but Agassi’s tale of his rockstar career in sports is coupled with the same life threads as those found in Sapphire’s story of Push. Here we have two compeltely different stories whose main characters are on polar sides of the culture plain, but whose experiences are so alike. In both stories we see how circumstance can both crush the human spirit and raise it to unimagined heights. The success of both Precious and Agassi makes you wonder if their ability to rise above and beyond would be possible without love.

I’ve been stuck on this song by Sara Barialles and Ingrid Michaelson called Winter’s Song. For those of you who’ve heard it I’m sure you understand how addicting the melody is. It stays with you even after the player has rolled on to the next song! But what is even more enamoring than the tune are the lyrics that ride the chorus to a smooth and almost haunting climax. “Is love alive,” it asks and then repeats, “is love alive?”

When looking at the above quote one can’t help but wonder if Van Gogh asked himself the same question. I believe it’s something we all ask ourselves when thrown into dire situations. We all know van Gogh’s story because it’s the same story shared by artists all over the world. He was transfixed by his craft and almost held captive by his passion for it  yet he couldn’t sell a single painting. And the only way that he was able to continue working as an artist was for the fact that his brother set him up in an apartment in a small town far far away and sent him money to buy painting supplies. I know what it’s like to live with personal demons that haunt and torment. Van Gogh definitely had some demons. If you’ve seen Precious or read Push or Open then you know that there are dozens of life demons that can take your life’s light and burry it in an ocean of pain and immobility. It is from the bottom of this black hole where we often find ourselves asking God, the universe, and ourselves, “is love alive?”

“This is my winter song to you/ The storm is coming soon/ it rolls in from the sea./ My voice, a beacon in the night/ To carry you to me./ Is love alive?/ They say that things just cannot grow/ Beneath the winter snow/ or so I have been told./ They say we’re buried far/ Just like a distant star/ I simply cannot hold./ Is love alive?/

But the best part is yet to come! It is the part that gives victory to the weak through the power of a helping hand.

“This is my winter song/ December never felt so wrong/ Cause you’re not where you belong/ Inside my arms./ I still believe in summer days/ The seasons always change/ And life will find a way./ I’ll be your harvester of light/ And send it out tonight/ So we can start again is love alive?/ This is my winter song to you/ The storm is coming soon/ It rolls in from the sea/ My love a beacon in the night/ My words will be your light/ To carry you to me.

And the truth of that song is the same truth that van Gogh stumbled upon before his untimely death. It is that love is alive. It is the only thing that can pull our sullied lives from the depths of the waves of life, like a balloon defying the liquid crush of gravity. Love is alive. Love is alive and it is as simple as a brother, as a friend, and as a helping hand. How Precious.

Happy Holiday’s Folks…