Tears

I actually don't cry very often. Most of the time when my emotions are being tugged, I'll just get a little teary eyed, but it hardly ever develops into full blown crying. Maybe I like to think of myself as a rugged stoic who can handle anything. Besides that being a delusion, resistance to crying is unhealthy. Having a good cry now and then releases stress and gives your body and mind a good cleansing. So I'm glad that I had a good cry last night. It felt sort of liberating.

I'm not exactly sure why I cried for so long and so hard last night, but I do know what triggered it: Tom Waits. Yes, crazy old Tom Waits. I have recently been obsessing over this man who's entire aura has completely captivated me to the point where I can't believe that he is just a mere human. So I was scrounging around the internet yesterday trying to find some more songs to hear by him (I had just bought my first Waits album) and I came across a blog entry where some art student had uploaded some Waits ballads. I downloaded them all, and I put them on my iPod. Then I started listening to them to try and lull myself to sleep.

It was working very well. I was feeling comforted by the lilting strings, the warm piano, and that unmistakable rumbly voice. And I thought, I'll listen to "I'm Still Here" one last time before I fall asleep. So I went back and started that song again. The simple but achingly beautiful piano line began and I knew something was different......I was feeling very emotional all of a sudden. A few moments went by, then Tom's voice entered. All it took was that gruff, sincere growl to say "You haven't looked that way at me in years" across the piano melody and I completely lost it. The tears shot out with no warning and I was hit by an atomic bomb made of pure emotion.

I pictured all the sad things in my life, all the beautiful memories that I carry with me, all the experiences that I've had just being alive. Everything was flashing in a green and gold haze and I just cried and cried and cried. I saw all the homeless people in Memphis. I saw all my best friends and the great times we've had. I felt the beauty of just staring up through the trees. I relived all the deaths of my pets. I remembered the thrill of change. I recalled the exhilaration of love and belonging and the crushing sadness of rejection and loss. I experienced the confusion and joy of simply existing.

After twenty minutes, I calmed down. I was done. This unexptected burst of internal passion died away, and with the settling of the dust I felt light and relieved. I was content and calm. So I stretched out in bed and imagined a glittering staircase wandering away from my window, gliding down to the lake outside. I pictured myself walking down there in the moonlight and then floating up into the stars. Up, up, up I went, until there was nothing.......only dark.

I fell asleep.

Can't Bi Me Love

Still Stumbling

For the past few days, I've been going internet crazy. I have been reading all sorts of people's blogs as well as amateur and professional pop culture critism. I have always been excited by the idea of just basking in each other's thoughts. I truly love to get inside the thought process of another human being and attempt to understand what and who they are. The internet is full of other souls and their take on life. I find the easy access to this array of thought intoxicating. All day I've been reading random blogs and other people's thoughts on music (from rateyourmusic.com).....and i've loved every moment of it! All the honesty, all the drama, all the comedy, all the bits of genius; little snippets of people are everywhere, and their content is real. I can't quite find the words to say what I'm trying to say, so I'll just jump to the bottom line:

I love people and their thoughts on life. I love art and pop culture and I love what people have to say about art and pop culture.

So I started this blog to allow myself to take part of the infinetely growing pool of ideas and thoughts.

The problem is, I am not a great writer. I feel like I cannot organize my thoughts into a seemless flow of ideas, nor can I write very clearly and succinctly. I hope that continually writing in this blog will eventually improve my skills enough to satisfy me. I will also continue to read other blogs to look for good writing and figure out why it is good writing, so that I may apply it to my own writing process.

Yesterday, I wrote my first review on rateyourmusic.com and it is not very good. The review was on Wilco's new album Sky Blue Sky. Click here to read it. Scroll down until you see the review by Shoakley (that's me!). I am not so sure why it isn't a good review, so I hope that some of you can help me.

I once thought that I was a good writer. After being in college for two years, I realize that I am still very much stumbling through the art of expressing myself.

Beginnings

So I've decided to re-enter the blogging world. And this time I will take this seriously. There is no use in setting up a blog without wanting to put effort into it. In high school I had a Xanga. This was dominated by mostly immature rattlings of an adolescent. Then I graduated to Myspace. I grew up a little when I reached this stage, but I felt uncomfortable by all the extra stuff one could put on one's profile. It just seemed so messy and too self-indulgent. Now I feel like I have matured enough to write on blogger.com. This time around I want to celebrate only my thoughts, my words, and the vast audience from which meaningful discussions and connections can arise. This time it's for real.

I lifted the title of my blog from the title of the third section of the novel "The Dark Tower" (7th book of the Dark Tower series) by Stephen King. That phrase strikes some resonant chord in my brain. "In this haze of green and gold".......That section of the book was very disjointed. The protagonist was scattered, confused, determined, scared, depressed, content, lost, alone, happy, as well as in and out of touch with himself in that section of the novel. Most of the time I can identify with this swirl of emotion and the conflicting feelings of aimlessness and determination in my spirit. I feel like I know what I am and where I am going, but I also don't have a damn clue. The only thing that I know for sure is that I love living. No matter what I am experiencing, I love being alive. I am content, I am happy. I am sinking into a warm haze of green and gold.