art. music. insight.

I recently had the opportunity to hear an art therapist tell stories about her education, career and clients. She shared pieces from folks she has worked with that either left an impression on the client or on her or on both and it was clear that these simple drawings, illustrations and collages had opened a door to a deeper connection, one that probably would not have been possible with words alone. My classmates and I were invited to participate in this phenomena by simply drawing what our "weather" looked like that day using markers and a blank sheet of paper. Without really even thinking I took to the task and found that it was not hard to translate my emotions into colors and shapes. Before I knew it I had illustrated a story that summed up my entire week, my emotional landscape and my physical health. And the really sneaky part? When asked to interpret my drawing to others I readily divulged a bunch of personal information that I probably would not have considered sharing with anyone otherwise. It really snuck up on me, but it was actually totally natural and I was left in awe at the power of this simple idea.

Later, the connection between art therapy and music was made clear to me. I suddenly understood that I connect to music in much the same way folks connect to the art they create from their feelings. What "moves" me about certain songs or artists is how they somehow represent the things I'm feeling, the mood I'm in, the thoughts I've had or the things I've done. Sometimes this happens in the lyrics. Other times it's hidden in the music itself, somehow intertwined with the instrumentation. This realization has caused me to be more thoughtful in my approach to music and it has made me more intentional in my listening, something I wasn't sure was possible. I've started choosing one song each day as a sort of theme, something that both summarizes where I am emotionally at the time and also appeals to my ears that day. I've found that some songs are sticking with me across several days, in some cases weeks. I carry them with me for a while until the time when I've moved on, of sorts. Then I find a new song. I thought maybe I'd share some of the music that has been a theme for me in one way or another recently. I'll refrain of explaining all the reasons why, mostly because that feels too intimate, but also because a lot of times I don't ask myself to find all the answers. Sometimes I don't know, and that's okay.

Arcade Fire - "We Used to Wait" from the The Suburbs (2010)

I guess I feel like I've done a lot of waiting recently. I think I'm understanding that in some way, the waiting never stops. There is always something to wait for and in many ways, the anticipation is what keeps me going.

J. Tillman - "Year in the Kingdom" from Year in the Kingdom (2009)

This one came up on shuffle last week and I was reminded of how Josh's music finds a way to cut to the core of me. There is a certain kind of melancholy in his voice. It's sad and sweet at the same time.

The Radio Dept. - "A Token of Gratitude" from Clinging to a Scheme (2010)

It's definitely the music I connect to on this one. I think it's mostly the pulsing fog horn sound. I can't really explain it. It's one of the mysteries I've accepted.

Twin Shadow - "I Can't Wait" from Forget (2010)

If "We Used to Wait" is the positive side of waiting, I suppose this is the negative. Waiting is hard and I wish it was over. I like the sleepy dance party feel. Can. We. Please. Gohomealready.

while watching game three

I like old things from familiar places. Also, new things from old places. You will never hear me say that winning the NBA championship was the defining moment of my life or that holding the Larry O'Brien trophy felt like holding my newborn son. Maybe that's because I'm not seven feet tall with a custom built bed the size of a swimming pool.

I like where I'm from, but I like where I am more. Where I'm going is yet to be seen, but something tells me it will be likable. I see certain things through unbiased eyes. I see more through the influence of my past, regardless of how much the subject of my memories may have changed. Someday I hope to be better at seeing the things the way Thomas Merton did, from a quiet awareness of all life around me.

For the most part, I have a sharp memory. I notice things. I remember things. You might think I'm not listening or paying attention, but I can hear you. I realize I may be giving away a secret that often works in my favor, but I'm ready to let it go. Be careful what you say in my presence. I'm typing, I'm reading, I seem to be engaged in something else. I'm listening. I've been told that men can't multitask. I'm sorry, that's just not true.

I don't purchase beer based on cold indicators, bottle vortexes, wide mouth cans or cooler cases. Those are convenient, but I prefer to taste things as opposed to draining the bottle as quickly as possible. Bud Light, Coors Light is there a way you can direct your advertising elsewhere saving you money and me the irritation? When will I get to select my own commercials? I want to hear more about alternative energy sources and the next Outkast record.

My Morning Jacket has recorded five studio albums. For a long time I just pretended the first two didn't exist. That was a mistake. Learn from it. At Dawn was released in 2001. I was 20 years old. Ken Griffey Jr. was in his second season with the Cincinnati Reds. He hit .286 with 22 home runs and 65 RBI in 111 games.

When I was a kid and listening to underground hip hop shows in the D.C. metro area I always wondered where all the local talent was. There seemed to be little potential. The Questionmark Asylum. DJ Kool. Tracey Lee. None of them were known very far outside the red line (or the orange, or the blue or the green). Wale (pronounced "Wall A" and probably should get an accent mark but it's actually a shortened version of his first name "Olubowale," which does not contain an accent mark) is a rapper from D.C. He has one full length studio album in his discography. It's called Attention Deficit and it was released in 2009. I was 28. Junior Griffey was in his second tour with the Seattle Mariners. He hit .214 with 19 home runs and 57 RBI in 117 games (you could tell the end was near).

The Radio Dept. are an indie band from Lund, Sweden. I've been to Lund. It's a lovely town. They've released three full length albums since 2003. Not exactly efficient. Clinging to a Scheme was released on April 21 of this year. I was 29. Still am. Little did we know, The Kid was almost a month into what would be his final season. His numbers were pedestrian and it feels a little disrespectful to even mention them here.

Griffey is a future hall-of-famer. He retired last week. He was the last great player from my childhood. Somehow, as pure coincidence and as a result of unrelated events, I finally feel like an adult.
These are three albums I'm listening to.




It's a quiet album, a long way from Z so, be prepared. I like the banjo strummed "If It Smashes Down".




Wale likes to pay tribute to the local legends of Go-Go (If you're from D.C. then you know. If not, look it up). You're going to get a healthy helping of the conga drums. One of my favorites so far is "Mirrors" featuring UGK's Bun B, who sounds particular dapper. That's unusual.




It's brand spanking new to me. I'm liking "This Time Around" and "A Token of Gratitude".