My heart is a wire
From which tiny questions are hung
A lot o blood pumping through
My heart is a wire
I pick up the receiver
And answer, “oh how do you do”
My heart is a wire
From which tiny answers are hung
A little blood makes it through
My heart is a wire
I lay down the receiver
See, everyone’s calling but you
In this recession it feels like all of America is frozen. I don’t know if we are like the Haitians, waiting helplessly between the birthing pains for the next tremor to shake our world, or if we are actually sifting around, gathering our positions to tug hard and lift America to its feet once the time is right. I really hope that we are waiting for something good though.
When we look at economic downturns in the past, huge conglomerates fell and large companies lost their corner pocket monopolies on the market. People were fired, college graduates were left to mill about aimlessly snatching up minimum waged jobs. Still some invented their own means of financial support separate from the degrees they’d earned in school. Continue reading
Hello faithful readers.
Thanks for all your comments and attention. The love is appreciated and requited. A blogger is only another opinion on the internet without someone to read and agree. Momentarily I seem to have fallen off my game. There are no more colors on my pallet and think I need to rejuve, revive, and let time refill my imagination station. Don’t run away and forget about me though. Save me on your bookmarks. I’ll be back in a couple weeks with some newness to restore your love for my words.
Much love,
-Crystal
There are special milestones in the life of an artist that mark, shape, and help to define our careers. The truth is, an artist lives in the metaphysical realm of thought. And in this realm passions reign supreme. Most of the time we have more passion than creativity or means by which to make all that we feel become tangible. The huge task in the life of an artist is to somehow make the whirlwind of emotion inside of us become physical, touchable, and translatable to others.
The other part of an artists journey is simply discovering what it is we are trying to say. The best thing to do is to throw it out there, splash it on a canvas, record it on a track, or scribble it onto a page and hope that by some magical means it comes back to us understood and accepted by the world.
Today I feel that. I feel the metaphysical part of my being becoming a bit more, well, real. Like a hovering something just now after 24 years getting it’s toes to touch the ground.
What brought this on? What makes today the day that my muse becomes part human? Well, it’s the day my creations came alive! Yeah, it’s that simple. Thank you Melanie. Thank you Anthony. Thank you God.
Notes to Self:
* Get out of bed
* Stop ignoring your blog
* Stop getting on the computer to write and then spending all your time on Facebook and Twitter and googling pretty people (one in particular?)
* Pick up your guitar and finish that chord progression before it melts back into the pages of your imagination
* Put down the iPhone
* When the Muse squeezes the tendrils of your creativity machine, stop pretending like you don’t hear her because nothing on TV is worth missing out on her influences
Hillo World! I just remembered a video link of proper Crystal Cheatham vocals. My crummy YouTube vids and tracks don’t do justice. Thanks for listening. Thanks for watching. Just click here
