As a rule, I dream big. I always have. Scattered thoughts blossom into full-bodied ideas, plans, schemes, just begging to be put into action. And I start to do just that. To follow. Somehow, I always let something stop me. It’s a decision I make. Conscious or not, it is my responsibility and mine alone to see my dreams come to fruition. No one else can make this happen for me. I will have to stand up for what I want. And I’ll have to fight for it. And it’s not going to be pretty. And that is okay.
No more will I be the girl who never fights for her dreams. Chase them until it gets too hard. Or it hurts to much to not see the envisioned success become reality.
In the past, when the tough got going, I never got tough. I quit. So, because I’ve done this all my life, does that mean that I AM a quitter?
What a terribly, awfully, horriblly, wretched thought.
I’m not a quitter am I?
Oh no!! No, no, no. Not me.
I always thought of myself as a fighter. All this time. I thought I fought for what I believed in. For what I wanted. Maybe I never have before.
Maybe this time will be different.
It feels different. It feels like something is actually happening. Like that precipice I’ve been dodging for years is suddenly - SMACK - right in front of me! Screaming at me. Ordering me to jump. Now!
Behind me, blocking my retreat, my hope and my faith stand hand in hand, winking at each other, and cheering me on.
Maybe this time will be different.
I can do this.
It’s time.
.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
America, Where Is Your Honor?
It saddens me that something like this video ever even had to be created.
I live in a country defined by it's freedoms, yet I find myself surrounded by people who take those freedoms for granted. People who ridicule and castigate our defenders. People who forget about the wars that got us here. People who look the other way, and ignore the countless lives sacrificed in the name of freedom.
Frankly, it disgusts me. This is not the country our forefathers set out to create. A country full of lies and scandals. Deceit. And disrespect. Where a story about a philandering golfer gets more news coverage than the story of a soldier returning home from war. And tales of the latest celebrity's jaunt in rehab are more popular than the stories of a Marines time in battle.
What is wrong with us, America? Have you no honor? Have you no decency? Have real people's lives come to mean so little to you?
I don't care if you think the War on Terrorism is dumb. I don't care if you hate it. And I certainly do not care what you think of our former President (don't get me started on the current one!). What I do care about are the men and women who fight to the death to keep our country free from tyranny.
I care about the hundreds of lives affected every time a single service member is lost. I care about the humans. The individuals. The people who left every comfort behind for you. They left their friends, their moms and sisters, brothers and wives, babies, fathers, their beds, hell, even their toilets. They chose to defend something they believe in.
What do you believe in, America?
Because if you don't believe in the people who protect your rights, you believe in nothing.
When you disrespect the members of our military, you disrespect this country. And if you disrespect this country, I believe you should forfeit your right to live here. Fortunately for you, those people you're insulting, are defending that very right. And because they have honor, they'll continue to do that despite your contempt for them.
How hypocritical can you get, that you would criticize and ostracize the very people who make it possible for you to speak your mind.
They didnt' choose to fight in this war. They chose to protect this country.
When have you ever been so brave?
* stepping off soap box *
When you see a service member, be they 18, 95, or any age in between, respect them. Respect what they represent. Respect that without their courage, your country would not be what it is today. And remember that they gave so much, while you give so little.
They deserve your admiration and adoration, but if you cannot manage that, at least give them your gratitude.
.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
100 Monkeys Improv - Come Get Leid at My Table.MOV
The only video I had the foresight to attempt to record the night of the 100 Monkeys show. The quality isn't great, but I had my arms up in the air for almost six straight minutes and my hands were nearly numb from the lack of bloodflow by the end of it, so I had do share it with someone.
Enjoy!
100 Monkeys "Come Get Leid at my Table" recorded live at the House of Blues in San Diego, California on July 23rd, 2010.
Serenityi
.
Enjoy!
100 Monkeys "Come Get Leid at my Table" recorded live at the House of Blues in San Diego, California on July 23rd, 2010.
Serenityi
.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Why I Love Those 100 Monkeys
Remember all those times you heard a song for the first time and it became lodged in your head all day? Did you ever find that you liked it so much that you sought out the makers of the song, only to discover that every song they'd created was as extraordinary as the first one you heard?
That's how it happened for me.
Back in May of 2009, a friend played me Drunken Waltz off of the 100 Monkeys debut album, Monster de Lux. The music started and I couldn't help but tap my toes to the plunking of the piano. Then the vocals started, and I was immediately immobilized because they are nothing short of hypnotic. The lyrics were intriguing and familiar, because I'd been there. You have, too. Even if you've never thought to put your feelings into words, something inside you will recognize the lyrics as thoughts of your own. Thoughts that have crossed your very own mind at least once in your life.
That was all it took. One song. Hook, line and sinker. I was sold. The more I learn about this band, the more I find that I am helpless (and happily so!) to resist their charms.
The most impressive discovery to date was learning how the Monster de Lux album was created. Each song was recorded only one time. Once. No second chances. No do-overs. They had one shot at recording their songs, and they nailed it every single time. Yes, a couple of them sound like a bunch of guys tinkering with instruments in their garage after polishing off a six-pack each, but even the ones that sound like that are remarkable. Because in them, you'll hear originality, innovation, and enthusiasm. It's funky, it's fresh, and it's a relief from the sugar-coated pop that bloats the airways. These monkeys are pioneers in a jaded industry, and therein lies the beauty of their music.
When Grape, their first studio album, was released at the end of November 2009, I actually found myself dumbstruck. Less than a year had elapsed since Monster de Lux had come into being, and somehow, 100 Monkeys now sounded like a band that had been playing together for more than a decade.
The music on Grape is polished. The lyrics and both witty and heartbreaking. The very first time you listen to the album, the vocals latch onto your soul and take up permanent residence inside you. The songs vary so much in approach from one to another that even the monkeys cannot classify themselves into a musical genre. And kudos to them for being able to have such a vast collection of musical stylings. It not only allows them to appeal to a broader audience, but it shows their versatility while demonstrating the amalgamation of thoughts and creativity between the members of the band.
When the opportunity arose late last month for me to see 100 Monkeys perform live, I knew it was imperative that I be a member of their audience.
It was the least disappointing night of my life.
Seeing 100 Monkeys live is an experience that cannot be adequately described with mere words, though, as you'll see, I'll try to do just that.
These men are bursting with life - dancing around, joking, crooning, laughing, and genuinely enjoying their lives. They rearrange themselves on stage numerous times throughout each show, replacing one another on nearly every instrument. That flexibility alone is enough to warrant praise. Add into the equation that they opt to allow the audience to suggest a song title, and then they proceed to create an impromptu song with never-before-thought-of lyrics that often consist of record-worthy ingenuity. It's indescribably exhilarating to watch.
Their concerts are intimate encounters, not ostentatious productions. There is no extravagant lighting or pyrotechnics. No maniacal costumes or flamboyant backup dancers. It's just five guys, in their own clothes, who arrive in an assortment of unremarkable vehicles (sorry Cobra!), playing their own cherished, seasoned equipment. There is no security detail. No thronging, screaming fans with Beatle-mania-like reactions. (OK, so there is the occasional Beatlemania-life reaction from fans, but that's not the monkey's fault, so does it really require mentioning?) The combination of all that guileless sincerity is simply breathtaking.
They choose venues that allow them to be close to their fans, to interact with them. There is no pedestal on which they expect to be put on or perform from. They hold themselves in no higher regard than every other soul around them. There is no trace of pretentiousness, no hint of obligation. These are men who love what they do. They appear to be fueled by passion and sustained by the love of their fans. You can see in their faces the humility they feel down to the very marrow of their bones - that, or they're the best actors of our generation.
In short, I love this band because they are real. They're accessible. They're a plethora of adjectives I'll no longer bore you with.
If you take one thing with you after reading this, please let it be this simple sentiment: I love 100 Monkeys because they make extraordinary music. Music that calms, that entertains, that soothes, that invigorates, and most importantly, music that makes me smile.
Don't believe me? Go listen for yourself: 100MonkeysMusic.com
To see pictures from my 100 Monkeys concert at the House of Blues in San Diego, California on July 23, 2010, go HERE.
Serenityi
.
That's how it happened for me.
That was all it took. One song. Hook, line and sinker. I was sold. The more I learn about this band, the more I find that I am helpless (and happily so!) to resist their charms.
The most impressive discovery to date was learning how the Monster de Lux album was created. Each song was recorded only one time. Once. No second chances. No do-overs. They had one shot at recording their songs, and they nailed it every single time. Yes, a couple of them sound like a bunch of guys tinkering with instruments in their garage after polishing off a six-pack each, but even the ones that sound like that are remarkable. Because in them, you'll hear originality, innovation, and enthusiasm. It's funky, it's fresh, and it's a relief from the sugar-coated pop that bloats the airways. These monkeys are pioneers in a jaded industry, and therein lies the beauty of their music.
When Grape, their first studio album, was released at the end of November 2009, I actually found myself dumbstruck. Less than a year had elapsed since Monster de Lux had come into being, and somehow, 100 Monkeys now sounded like a band that had been playing together for more than a decade.
The music on Grape is polished. The lyrics and both witty and heartbreaking. The very first time you listen to the album, the vocals latch onto your soul and take up permanent residence inside you. The songs vary so much in approach from one to another that even the monkeys cannot classify themselves into a musical genre. And kudos to them for being able to have such a vast collection of musical stylings. It not only allows them to appeal to a broader audience, but it shows their versatility while demonstrating the amalgamation of thoughts and creativity between the members of the band.
When the opportunity arose late last month for me to see 100 Monkeys perform live, I knew it was imperative that I be a member of their audience.
It was the least disappointing night of my life.
Seeing 100 Monkeys live is an experience that cannot be adequately described with mere words, though, as you'll see, I'll try to do just that.
These men are bursting with life - dancing around, joking, crooning, laughing, and genuinely enjoying their lives. They rearrange themselves on stage numerous times throughout each show, replacing one another on nearly every instrument. That flexibility alone is enough to warrant praise. Add into the equation that they opt to allow the audience to suggest a song title, and then they proceed to create an impromptu song with never-before-thought-of lyrics that often consist of record-worthy ingenuity. It's indescribably exhilarating to watch.
Their concerts are intimate encounters, not ostentatious productions. There is no extravagant lighting or pyrotechnics. No maniacal costumes or flamboyant backup dancers. It's just five guys, in their own clothes, who arrive in an assortment of unremarkable vehicles (sorry Cobra!), playing their own cherished, seasoned equipment. There is no security detail. No thronging, screaming fans with Beatle-mania-like reactions. (OK, so there is the occasional Beatlemania-life reaction from fans, but that's not the monkey's fault, so does it really require mentioning?) The combination of all that guileless sincerity is simply breathtaking.
They choose venues that allow them to be close to their fans, to interact with them. There is no pedestal on which they expect to be put on or perform from. They hold themselves in no higher regard than every other soul around them. There is no trace of pretentiousness, no hint of obligation. These are men who love what they do. They appear to be fueled by passion and sustained by the love of their fans. You can see in their faces the humility they feel down to the very marrow of their bones - that, or they're the best actors of our generation.
In short, I love this band because they are real. They're accessible. They're a plethora of adjectives I'll no longer bore you with.
If you take one thing with you after reading this, please let it be this simple sentiment: I love 100 Monkeys because they make extraordinary music. Music that calms, that entertains, that soothes, that invigorates, and most importantly, music that makes me smile.
Don't believe me? Go listen for yourself: 100MonkeysMusic.com
To see pictures from my 100 Monkeys concert at the House of Blues in San Diego, California on July 23, 2010, go HERE.
Serenityi
.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
I Am A Dreamer
I am a dreamer.
I always have been.
Not the kind who's subconscious supplies them with fantastical adventures or terrifying feats to overcome while they sleep (though I've been known to stumble into a few of those circumstances on occasion). No, I am the dreamer who always had something she wanted to be. Somewhere she wanted to go. Something she wanted to do.
A beautician, a secretary, a teacher, president of the United States, a rancher, a wife, an author, an artist, a princess, a poet, a fashion designer, a photographer.
Something.
Anything.
Anything but ordinary.
Someone who gets to see her name on a New York Times Best Seller List or a marquee or in the credits of a hit film. Or maybe if I got really lucky, winning a Pulitzer.
Where has the dreaming led me? For some, I suppose, it would appear that - because I am living none of my dreams - I am a failure. I choose to ignore those who might see things in that light.
I believe that someday, somehow, I'll be good enough at just one thing - just one - and I'll make my mark. You'll see my name somewhere other than on a free blogging website. You'll see it in lights, on posters, on the cover of a book, in a magazine.
Someday I'll become discontent with simply waiting to be discovered and I'll actually do something about it.
You'll see.
I always have been.
Not the kind who's subconscious supplies them with fantastical adventures or terrifying feats to overcome while they sleep (though I've been known to stumble into a few of those circumstances on occasion). No, I am the dreamer who always had something she wanted to be. Somewhere she wanted to go. Something she wanted to do.
A beautician, a secretary, a teacher, president of the United States, a rancher, a wife, an author, an artist, a princess, a poet, a fashion designer, a photographer.
Something.
Anything.
Anything but ordinary.
Someone who gets to see her name on a New York Times Best Seller List or a marquee or in the credits of a hit film. Or maybe if I got really lucky, winning a Pulitzer.
Where has the dreaming led me? For some, I suppose, it would appear that - because I am living none of my dreams - I am a failure. I choose to ignore those who might see things in that light.
I believe that someday, somehow, I'll be good enough at just one thing - just one - and I'll make my mark. You'll see my name somewhere other than on a free blogging website. You'll see it in lights, on posters, on the cover of a book, in a magazine.
Someday I'll become discontent with simply waiting to be discovered and I'll actually do something about it.
You'll see.
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