Thank You Veterans

It wasn't too long ago that it was Veteran's day...

and I just want to say THANK YOU to everyone that thanks a vet. I cannot tell you how someone giving me a big hug for being in the military and for serving the country has brought me to tears. Thank you fellow veterans for your service!

Dan

Walking on Water

Wow! So I awoke from a fantastic dream where I was swimming laps at a pool with a bunch of other people, and suddenly I started swimming faster than the rest. But somewhere along the swim I decided that I was going to slow swimming, so I just stood up and started running on the waters edge. Everyone in the area started talking like they were shocked or surprised that I was walking on water. I looked down at my feet, and was like "Oh, I guess... I am walking on water." I walked over to the edge of the pool and had everyone start trying to walk with me on the water. I could see everyone's bare feet taking step after step and then after everyone was walking on water with me. I was super excite and started jumping and dancing around all over the water's surface. I could jump as high as I wanted to and I would be able to keep on my two feet. Then I decided to climb the high diver and I dove in and then instead of swimming to the poolside to get out of the water, I just pulled myself up and out of the water where I was.

So any of you dream interpreters want to take a stab at what that means in my dream. All I know is I was feeling quite amazing when I woke up. :)

Dan

Why can't I blog with my iPhone?

Ok, so trying to post every day is a bit tricky you guys, I'm here to apologize big time! I want to get something up here new, crazy, refreshing, interesting maybe profound... Yeah about that profound business, not sure I was born into that gene pool, but anyways... I just want to be able to post something for you everyday and when I wind up spending the night somewhere other than my place that makes getting online with a computer that much trickier. So I will seek out an app that allows me to post blogs.

If anyone knows of one, LET ME know. K thanks.

Dan

**WARNING** Do NOT Read this Chocolate Poem!

M&M MM M&M

You place your fingers on my wrapper.

You tear my yellow waxed paper.

I’m nervous, but excited too.

I see you look past my package.

You turn me over, tip my gently.

You pour me in your hand.

Pinch my candy shell.

Drop your head and close your eyes.

You’re so warm…

Am I sweet enough for you?

I want you to taste me again.

I promise never to melt in your hand.

Please make that sound again:

mm mm mm mm mm mm mm

Once Upone a Time... I Fell in Love with a Skipper

I don't know if it is okay to write about someone I care about deeply. But I am going to. If she decides that my declaration to the world is over the top or uncalled for or unwanted then she only has to let me know and I will delete this post.

I will keep her name withheld only for her privacy. But she needs to know that she has truly been a huge blessing in my life and I am glad that I danced with her randomly in the subways of New York a couple years ago.

You see when you travel you met people that you may never see again. You may never have more than a small talk conversation. You may do, act and be someone that you only wish you were in a movie or maybe you feel like you are living a movie right then. And then reality sets in that somehow you have to go back to your life and they have to go back to theirs and that may take you both to other parts of the world.

Such is what happened with this girl and me. She was visiting New York City the same time I was, and randomly we met at a Hostel just one block away from Central Park. We decided to go down to Time Square together. Because I had found a piano in the window front lobby of a Bank. And wanted to play for her. We got lost, I believe, and by the time we got to the bank they were getting ready to close. I don't know how I persuaded the man to let me play but I schmoozed my way and he was letting us play a black grand piano for just a moment.

We had to run in the rain because the New York clouds thundered down on us. We broke an umbrella. Then in the subway drenched to the bone, with an iPod and split ear pieces we just danced waiting for a train. Who cares who watched, although a black man chuckled and remarked "Now that's what I like to see, two people loving every moment they have with each other!"

She and I didn't see each other much, until later when we found each other online and began talking over Skype. Our video chat conversations would roll way into the evenings. So many times I couldn't sleep. So many times I felt my chest burning that there was someone on this planet that understood me, cared about me, but more than that, she is someone who inspires me. What a gift she has been in my life.

Now her story fascinates me. She is a Skipper. She works on Yachts for a living, helping the wealthy enjoy their time on a cruise or wherever she happens to be sailing to. From the time I have known her she has been to the Bahamas, Spain, New Zealand and Florida. A life of adventure that is hers. A girl from South Africa living the dream of place to place to place and enjoying the salt air, music from many cultures, the food of the exotic, and the heat of many dance-filled nights.

Her whole life is amazing. She left her vacation to live off a dock until someone would hire her to help sail ships. Then she paid for schooling to get certified as a Skipper, and now she saves up money for the day she will pay cash for her house. She once told me, "I wont let any man get in the way of my dreams." And all I could think was how amazing her determination was and is. The man she does let into her life will be extremely fortunate.

She is like the wind right before it pushes the surface of the water. that instant when the ocean spray wakes up and is carried into the clouds. She is so passionate about her dreams--I haven't met anyone like her.

It's true
Something about her compels me to poetry because words themselves are lost in the hollow knock of sound trying to escape the rap of hunger. A word is no vessel buoyant enough to traverse the universe of poem. It is the magnetics of passion, and the drive of ambition that gravitationally pulls one into the orbit of wishing they could see her again.  It's like a prison trying to believe that that day could and can happen. And remaining completely unsure if reality will let you realize the freedom of a hug. Oh, how I miss her. And wish her the best. I wish to hug her and hold her, and express how thankful I am for her.

Yet, I knew that I had to let her go, because her need for companionship is more than text can carry. Words, became my ship, poetry my sail, but the wind is and will always be hers. And her ship sails in many places far from here. But I love her, for who she is. She is a Skipper after all.

Dan

Star Gazing

The cement was cold. The fishbowl of a skate park almost like an empty swimming pool is where I found the sky sometime after midnight. Jupiter was making his journey through the sky while the waning gibbous of the lunar light was going the opposite direction. I wondered if they ever talk. I mean Jupiter already has his moons to deal with but ours is so pretty. Does he ever ask her out? Would it be a coffee a date? Nah he's probably "a lets go watch Pink Floyd in concert and get wasted" type of first date kind of guy. Or would he rush things too quickly and she'd mistake him for a player?

I bet Jupiter is a player. I mean they say that he is the God of Fame, Fortune, Luck and what not. He's nothing like Saturn. Except astronomers say that they are both gas planets. Like miniature stars that just don't incinerate.

I saw a bat fly past Orion's belt. I only noticed because the bottom star blacked out by the bat. Odd that a bat lives in the city. But is so cool how a skate park is a night time. the walls chop out a lot of the city lights and the stars perk up a little bit. Although the visual of the sky is framed in the curves of cement.

I've been long-boarding for awhile, and now I want a skateboard. The drops in these skate parks terrify me so I have to do it.

It's strange to me that star gazing is so reflective tonight. Its like I kept thinking about past events I suppose it is due to the old lights that they are. Like ancient wisdom that can only be read when you are lucky enough to gaze into them. Cleopatra seduced many beneath these constellations. And Erik the Red used them to find the next place to besiege. If I had been a Viking...

But the cement is cold, and I going home.

Dan

Chocolate Kisses

I am no truffle.
Unwrap my foil

twist me
pull me

swirl me
slip the silk

around your tongue
sin within

the melting
of my skin

close your eyes
and take me.

All the kisses
you can swallow.

Cooking is Sexy!

Ok, so yeah, I may be risking something by saying this; I may sound completely demanding but... I dare to say it. I dare to tell you how it is. I dare to be bold. I Dare to be a man. And I am just going to say it. We all think this:

A girl that can cook, and I mean cook food that makes you drown in flavor, is STRAIGHT up HOT!

There is no way around the sexiness of French recipes, the Italian spice, or where the Asian sweet-n-sour can take you. No, there isn't. Stop trying to argue with me. There is NO WAY AROUND how sexy someone who can cook is. You can try to say all your little compliments and dress up like playtime barbie, but if you can't make something sizzle in the pan it's only skin deep!

I mean... I may forgive you. I may try to to realize that cooking isn't a part of your life. But Damn. If you cook and we can chop vegetables, caramelize garlic in melted butter, and close our eyes while we sample our cooking.

I just may break down. I may try to define that together, is really spelled To-Get-Her. And I might, oh yeah, I might, say, "Girl you got it goin on!"

Let's casserole tonight!

Dan

PS. My fav Four Letter "F" word coming soon.

It's Friday! Time to live your dreams

Friday is here! Whoo Hoo!
SO, what is everyone doing tonight? What are you doing for your weekend!?
*Post Below*

This morning I woke up from yet another dream of me writing notes on paper. Musically I see and taste things differently. Isn't crazy that when you day dream about something long enough, and try to live what you day dream about that your night time dreams begin to follow suit. I LOVE IT! I feel like my life is a song and I am the composer. I wonder if I am just crazy.

But at any rate, Tonight I am singing for a school music thing and then going to hit up a party or two.

Life

Life is so fleeting.
It's like waking from a dream.

That moment you felt so alive in your sleep, where you wake in tingles knowing that somehow you lived somewhere else, secretly outside of your life, a self without self that selfishly wants selflessly to express the self,
that you question if reality is real, where triangles seem round and mirrors mirror what isn't there, the disappearance of vanity,
that you brew coffee to find the white rabbit, where tunnels lead everywhere but here,
that there is and was and will be what you won't want, why dancers break into bop and rappers turn to birds, and flowers chase the sunset because beyond the stars is darkness screeching to be felt,
that you care about this or that, the pronouns of misconception,
that you drown in the bubbles climbing the rivers to burst the surface of illusion
that confusion of wondering why a knight jumps forward twice and turns either right or left and endanger the queen,
that being lost on 5th avenue looking for Broadway and asking the dredlocked drunken black man where within the forests of bricks and windows, cliches and patios, buzzers and breadcrumbs, pigeons and wheelchairs, denim and baldness, string quartets and hot-dog stands, you imagine the circle of strawberry field, hating the town square,
that the moonlit rodents patented in the leather of their own furs are the copy-write of why the dream hoisted in copper tarnished in green burns deep within the hazel eyes of the dead women off the side of the cement street having taxi cabs pass her by, because her hidden bottle in a brown bag still gripped by her skeleton is the poison of liberty
that justice claims you in the tossing of notes on staff paper and ink stains you in "F minor" the four flats of Boston and New York and Los Angeles and Starbucks
that sugar smuggled by sweetened tea and universities corrupting people into dreams of pharmacy and nuclear reactions
that the nuclear marriage has split into the love of love instead of convention and production of babies
that holding hands with the same gender is colorful the arch of expression has moved Van Gogh past the impressions of cathedrals and Venice Beach
that sand still cascades the hips of time dropping to the floors of nevermore, nevermore, never mourn the politics of airplanes and burning rubble the rabbis of thrown stones and laws that govern forgetfulness, never mourn the living that stabs you in the eye and turn your back until you've backed your truck across the poppy fields of uranium and plutonium and gold and metals that will enslave another generation through the comedy of capitalism the bars of freedom
that you imperialistically place 420 people into the news of illegal gatherings because people gather to uncensor their senses and press their wishes that a soldier should never die to enslave another into democratic rule,
that we vote for nature and how she should keep a rainbow in our sky every time the cry for wealth should be given only to whom we love because

Life passes by.
It's like waking from sex and wishing you hadn't.

Mental Blender

Okay so a great deal of friends have been asking me to post this poem. Some say it is like a blender. I wrote it a couple years back, but its been among the most requested. So far my favorite way to present this poem is with a Russian accent. But read this thing aloud as fast as you can for some fun. But also it has some pretty nice significance if you read into it. I get something new out it every time I perform this, read this, or quote from this poem. Tell me what your take on what this poem means to you.

Thanks,

Dan

Ego

My insides are outside,

Though outside they’re inside,

And inside, I truly wish

Being outside, my insides

Could subside and curbside,

The outside outsidedness;

Yet, outsides can never be,

An inside-out memory,

For outside, they inwardly

Exposed outside vividly;

Thus inside, my insides

Yearn freedom from outside,

And outside, my insides,

Remain insidiously inside-out.

So, to subside the insides,

I tried outsides of insides

Till outsides had subsided,

And inside, insides divided.

Inside my insidedness,

I no longer outsidedly,

Curbsided my memories

And outside looking in,

I subsided with a grin!

Now inside, I’m inside;

And outside, I’m outside.

Though sometimes, I’m inside-out,

And sometimes, I’m outside-in.

Thank God for a Refrigerator

Whoa. I think it has been a whole week since my fridge pooped out on me. Today I had to sneak back home between classes to have the home open and ready for the delivery guy to bring in my new Fridge! It made me 3 minutes late to choir. But I know where my priorities are--food. And of course if you have never heard me say this before: My favorite 4-Letter 'F word is ... FOOD!

Isn't she just sexy? I mean she is one HOT rectangle. I am super excited. She has just the chemistry to keep me well fed physically, probably even emotionally. SO WHAT if its just a physical relationship! I love that she is okay that I am shallow that way. I decided that she can move in. But she has to be open to me closing her door off and on. If she is good, I will decorate her with drawings and magnets. I know that I do need to fill her up too. As it is now our relationship is a bit empty as you can see. 

I'm really happy with the ice maker option :)

Ok I know you are all envious. So I will stop bragging. I will stop letting you know how amazing she is. You haters out there though... You should stop. ;)

Dan

Making Friends at 711 (Part One)

Doesn't seem like there should be a formula to making friends? Like there should be some really simple ways to meet someone and be able to connect with them? Some people however have massive barriers and before they even give you the chance to get along they might be shutting you out or rejecting you or treating you like crap.

That's is kinda what happened last night when my friend and I stopped by the 711 last night. Now I get along with most of the attendants there but the new lady there just seemed shut off, cold and completely non-responsive to any kind of joking. She went straight to business and treated me and my friend like we were trash. She was practically yelling at us to change registers to make our purchase. Cracking a joke didn't seem to help. I mean I don't think adding her to my FaceBook is going to happen, but come on lady, let's be friendly!

Now, not that this will always work, but one little trick I have found to meeting new people like this that are clearly having a bad day, week, year or lifetime, is to call them out on it respectfully. I mean her cat may have died and she was having to work at the 711 gas station, who knows what was up her ass. But next time I am in there I will let her know that her behavior wasn't acceptable. Without saying, "Hey you asshole, why'd you have to be a bitch?" Instead, I will ask her if she is okay, sort of like this: "So the other night I was in here with my buddy and you seemed a bit out of it. Just wondering if you are doing okay. It seemed like something bad might have happened."

Now only a complete jerk would respond negatively to that, but No worries if she does. We will have more to write about it.  :)

I will just let her know that it's okay that she was pissed, I mean I get pissed. But the next 711 encounter with said attendant will become part 2 of this 711 saga. So stay tuned.

Dan

Come on Sabin, Wash Your Cat

Oh yeah, a bottle of shampoo, warm water, tub plug, meow meow meow, scratch, jump and worries of a drowning animal, that's what just happened. Oh yes, my little black and white just shivered like crazy after I toweled her down and then brought out the blow dryer. Hiss, spit, shiver, hiss and dart, claw for the towel, cry for safety, fear machines and their horrible drown of warmth, I'll just pretend that it doesn't bother me... Because the end result is a furry friend that smells like a jojoba, chamomile, and some other fragrances they won't list.

If the end justifies the means, does that mean that you have to be mean to get to the end?

Oh the deeper questions that arise from washing a kitten in the morning.

Groom yourself little Samantha, I still love you.

Samantha

Dan

I fell asleep writing this

Why build a boat? Why sail across the ocean or the lake or down the river? Why the attraction to having water carry you? Why want to walk on water? I guess I am still thinking about how thirsty I was this morning, but really why water?

I want a boat.kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk4433444;...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk===================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================

Thirsty

I wake up at 2:57AM because I am super thirsty. I debate if I want to just fall back asleep or get out of bed. Decided that water was important. So, I toss the comforter aside, ungracefully arise, descend the latter from my loft, where I sleep, down to the sink. Mouth to facet I take in my first sip and was shocked by the sweetness of its wetness.

The Utah not-so-good-water was so heavenly, unselfishly affectionate to my taste buds. Water for an instant turned to honey without the thickness without the wax without the necessity of logic without trying to pollinate my body. For an instant I could see with my mouth ,why embracing the flow of mountains and melted glaciers, why stones cannot stop the storm, why the electric want to thirst and internalize the cascade by the simplicity of a stainless steel handle that at my leverage in my domicile without the risk of effort, why I'd die without water, its delectable chemical anatomical charm, its sweetness, its being 'it' that cannot exist without transporting life into bliss, why thirst isn't effort, why astronomers believe in gravity and the impact of evaporating ice ages. I live in an ocean of dryness. And water is my passion.

Why Do You Sing?

That's right we need a shout out for all those that dare to sing! So many people say... Oh, I Blah blah blah about this or that when it comes to singing. And it sounds an awful lot like I blah blah blah about this or that. So all you people with reasons why you can't sing. Unless you are a mute and cannot biologically even talk, just GET OVER YOURSELVES!! And SING!

Oh and if you do sing. This is not a kudos moment. This is a High-Five-Jump-Up-and-Down-Turn-Around-Give-Each-Other-A-Huge-Bear-Hug-And-Whisper-In-Your-Ear-A-Great-Big-Thank-You Because all you singers out there ARE the difference. Because you are brave. You are bold. You are who blesses this world with your voice.

So if you sing POST and tell us WHY! If you are thinking about learning how to sing let us know! If you have a Blah Blah Blah reason why you don't sing--well I almost said you can go to hell, but I wont, just read why people sing.

It might change your life.

Remember that Being a Natural comes easy--with practice! 

G'night great people.

A Happy Singer.

Dan

Fire, Poetry and Sex Education

Woah! Last night was epic to say the least. My smaller, shorter than me, but ripped to hell, seriously 10 pack abs (if that is possible) Russian and calculus wizard, AKA one of my best friends ever and I decided to go to an Open Mic at GreenHouse Effect Coffee shop. And so glad we went.

It was Sunday night at 10:30. The place was packed with tons of musicians and poets. Acoustic guitars everywhere, people in every single iron chair around the patio tables, some sitting on the floor all the way to the door. Guitar riffs and songs, laughter and the buzz of coffee cups being sipped late at night. That was the beginning of my Greenhouse Effect. If you want to see what the place looks like (since it a unique home converted to a shop) then take a look at the Cafe. Inside that little nook that you can see from the before mentioned link is where we musicians and poets strutted our stuff. Some things were quite somber, some enlightening and others just outright beautiful.

I sang a song I wrote called Just Breathe which will be recorded soon! (Fingers crossed). Then after sipping on coffee I noticed in the back window some fire spinning around in the back parking lot. I found my self mesmerized with the beating of the hand drums and the vortex of flame engulfing the guys that were flinging ignited staff around their half naked bodies.

I busted out my harmonica and another harp player came and joined me. We dueled each others harmonica skills, taking turns in trying to outdo the other guy. I kicked his ass. haha! No really My several months practice and limited skills sucked compared to this guy that used to pan handle with a harmonica.

My Russian friend talked me into doing my contortionist moves, bending and folding my body around as well as flipping my arms around my neck or in front of me and doing the pretzel with my legs behind my head, or doing the splits. I now officially have a circus asking me to join them Hah! They say they need my act!

We somehow stayed way into the night making friends and ending the night on me teaching people about reflexology and how it really can and does indeed enhance one's libido.

All in all, I didn't have enough to eat. But the coffee buzz was amazing. And the friendships that I was able to build last night. Totally worth it!

Time for bed.

Night.

Dan

Get Spontaneous!

Started last night ready to go walk on fire as my friend was hosting a FIRE-WALK (he is a certified fire-walk instructor). But after driving 30+ miles up into the mountains getting lost and driving my street car all the off-road mountain trails my friend and I decided it was time to give up and head on up to a Frat Party. On the way to the Frat House, what do we see? A concert going on out in a golf course. We stop on in to see what's going down. And it is none other than Slaughter one of the bigger Heavy Metal Rock bands from the 80s and 90s.

So my friend and I sneak on in to an audience of overweight, middle aged, black leather, Harley driving, goatee sporting Slaughter fans. I don't think I knew a single song to be honest, except they did a cover of Bon Jovi's "Dead or Alive."  But since watching some very impressive guitar work and an absolutely great performance from their drummer I decided. I am now a Slaughter Fan. Their biggest hit that I can find was "Fly to the Angels" Enjoy.

Dan

Live Music

Ok, So going to live music is infinitely more inspiring than listening to recorded music! I know. I know. you are thinking... Duh Dan. Everyone knows that. Well I just attended a concert at the University and watching the fantastic performance skills of the various pianists truly inspired me to keep working on the music. I love being a musician. That our university is actually making strides to take the arts to the next level.

First thing in the morning after breakfast and minor chores around the house. I am sitting down to the piano! I am so happy. :)

On Writing Songs

Writing a song has go to be the most challenging, most wonderful thing that anyone can ever attempt. It requires turning pain into pleasure, a perfect blend between logic and luck, packaged deep into that stuff they call music. It requires knowing when enough is enough without using that cliche, or that phrase, I've used before. Its about giving up, giving in, giving out and getting what on one else can, because no one else will write my songs--too many are afraid or don't know how, or don't even want to write their own songs.

So, instead of waiting for the perfect emotion, moment, or schedule, one must practice daily, must write massive amounts of notes and words no matter how much of it turns out to be gibberish. There's a song always lurking about and the songwriter is its hunter. The good news is that there is no license required, no degree, no experience, nor pedigree... just desire. Desire is how the song writer fires their instruments and catches their song. The pen and paper are merely their targeting devices. Emotion is the ammunition, pain the trigger, and the challenge is pulling the trigger and letting everything go, the way it does, the way it always does afterwords.

 Dan

Letting Go

So, the topic of this post seems deadly cliche. But I don't know how else to say what I had to do. Nor do I know if I made the best decision. I decided to drop two classes, both of which I was LOVING: Philosophy of the Mind and Philosophy of Religion. Why? Because I had a fantastic discussion with my voice teacher. And realized that I had been trying to tackle too much. Maybe that's part of the whole feeling like I cant get anything done. Is this "I have too much on my plate" feeling, then crash, burn, explode into "I don't want to do a damn thing" attitude.

Letting go of these classes though feels like I have committed a crime. I feel relieved. But I will miss the intellectual stimulation of Philosophy.

The decision really was based off of my need to focus on my music. My voice teacher, what an angel, really gave me the pep talk of a lifetime. I have for her deepest respect for her. I realized today how much she believes in my abilities to sing. I really want to embrace my vocals like a professional and dive deep into my singing career. I know she can take me there. She even got me a bit teary eyed.

She gave me a list of classical singers to study and to figure out which songs I like the best.

(I will post the list once I learn how to spell their names.)  And I will be showing you all what I pick to do as well as strut my vocals off.

Wish me well.

Thanks,

Dan

Lost My Groceries...

OK great! I just bought $170 worth of food. A lot of it went to the freezer, but whatever made it to fridge is pretty much disgusting. My fridge decided to quit. It's almost room temperature and I have the thing cranked to 7 the highest cold. I've tried to call the landlord, but yeah that's not working out.  Fortunately the freezer is still ice cold although it has a ton of frost all over the place looking like a bunch of snow just hit the freezer.

Crossing my fingers that the landlord will actually answer the damn phone.

A very concerned

Dan

Woke Up Naked

OK... Seriously, I just woke up from a dream where I was walking around butt ass naked!

Now, isn't elementary school the place where those sort of dreams are supposed to die? I guess that's a HUGE NO! But whats worse, is that I was running around the VA hospital naked. A naked in a hospital... really?!

I blame this Blog idea already.

I was naked and EARLY for my therapist's appointment. Early. Me? Is that even possible? However early, that I was, didn't matter. Because I check in and the lady at the desk completely disregards my pale--needs a tan, but goes to gym--body and hands me some papers and telling me to come back a little later for my appointment or to just sit down.

So, hungry, I left. Upon returning however, I was late. Now why was I late? Because I had effectively stopped and talked to people at the burger joint, where I walked naked through the drive-through and ordered a burger. Why was no one in my dream disturbed by my nudity?!

Does anyone know what that means in dream interpretation? What does it mean when no one cares that your naked??

Anyhow, I wound up late to the appointment by ten minutes. The lady at the desk plugged the dude that was after me, who was also early for his appointment, into my time slot. And disconnectedly told me that I'd have to reschedule. And I was freaking out. I needed to see my therapist. There is shit I need to unload.

I don't really know that I should be blaming the blog, but I am. I am blaming the fact that I am now non-stop thinking about what I need to work on and apparently from my dream, I need to work on being responsible. I am now thinking that I really do show up late for things because I want everyone I meet to have a great day--even if I am naked.

But, if I am to be more productive, I really wonder if my spontaneous nature requires some level of restraint. Arrrgh. Did I just say that? Do I really need to restrain my self from spontaneity to beable to see my therapist among other things? 
 
So dear readers. What should I do? Do I stop the addiction to meet and greet people? Does that make me naked? Do I even need clothes? Who knows.

But stay tuned. My brain is processing this while I go to make some breakfast.

Dan

Brownies and Blogs

I just pulled some box-made brownies out of the oven just now and I have no idea why I decided to start a blog.

I really don't know if being a blogger is the best thing one can do. I have my inner-skeptic shouting that this isn't the brightest idea that I have ever come up with. But for those of you, who ever you are, that read this... I hope that by my venting through a blog, you can enjoy the daily quanderings that I undergo. Maybe that will make us get along, or maybe we will straight out hate each other, in either case hopefully it is entertaining for both of us, the writer and reader, along with the commentary that might pile in. Who knows. Does anyone read these things anyway?

At any rate my life is NOT horribly unique, nor is there anything that makes me more distinguished than anyone else out there. But I like to believe that when people tell me that I am gifted, talented, funny, crazy or all the other flattery based compliments, that I somehow DO contribute to their lives. And after having dozens and dozens of people tell me, or rather ask me, where they can read my writing or hear my music or whatever else I do, it seems like a blog is the best answer. dun dun dun. Who knows?!

But really, I am going to abusively blog. I need some sort of an accountability system. I am the wizard of create a new project. Boredom being a pet-peeve of mine. Start a project, then start a project, to start a new one. Arrrgh! Eventually the mountains of guilt that I should be working on XYZ jumps in while I am still feeling occupied by ABC. None of which helps. How I am pulling A's & B's at the University is beyond me.

So if you can relate to that High-Five.

Except I really want to get things done. I NEED Some sort of order! Planners, calenders or setting alarms on my phone all his the productive gag reflex. I mean no offense Stephen R. Covey and the Franklin planner but those things do NOT work with my brain. But brownies do. I guess chocolate in general. I bet this blog will too!

Because... IF I BELIEVE that someone is on the other side is actually wanting to see me accomplish something, then I will definitely follow through--something a planner never came with. Oh, wow! that sounded like I was talking about God for a second...

But NO DAMN IT!

This is a BLOG and I BELIEVE that REAL PEOPLE are reading this--even if its the mystical people.

So here's the plan that I've came up with while I scarfing brownies with a spoon. A spoon because I was too lazy to look for a clean utensil from the dishwasher.

Anyhow... THE PLAN:

1. Create a NEW Habit of Accomplishments
   
2. Write/Post something new for 365 days
3. Get focused
   

I suppose that summarizes it. Seems like a good chunk of what one might blog about.

For the record I will be posting poetry, drawings, videos, music, recipes and things I find out along the way. So stay tuned...

Dan