Yesterday I mentioned the song my friends and I wrote together back in 2017 and how that was a profound moment. Above you can see it.
As I write this today, I'm listening to "Tea for the Tillerman" by Cat Stevens. I always listen to music when I write and this is one of those albums that easily feeds the air with inspiration and rhythm. I haven't listened to much else by Cat Stevens. However, the "Father and Son" song is one you probably know. I remember back in 2009 on the vinyl player I still have, (a sticker riddled briefcase that is actually a record player). At the time, I was prepping for a trip to Montana for the summer. I was going to be working and living out in Yellowstone. The first time I'd ever done anything like that in my life -- Travel without bounds by my parents. Of course, they disapproved and didn't understand it. In this song in particular, Cat breaks into two separate voices: the father and the son. I love the desperation in the son's voice and the wisdom in the father's. No one is ever right either. I was the son and I went my own way. I haven't been the same since.
Much in the same today, I am not the man I was yesterday or yesteryear. It so often compels me to think of the quote by Whitman, "Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; (I am large. I contain multitudes)." Every day can be a contradiction and so often in my life it is. I'm noticing the patterns now.
Mainly to say, this music video is a relic much like Tea for the Tillerman is a relic. A memory of an idea. A thought born. Now it's regaining its day in the sun. Why? Because in this fossil, truth that I did not know at the time. I wrote part of this song and I shot the video. Since then, I now play guitar and sing. Everything I am now was here, but only a microcosm. I write videos, I shoot videos, and I make songs. Much like ten years prior, I was first setting out on my own.
Here I am, having spent a better part of the decade away from the place I was born. It's further than most get. It takes courage and dedication. There's many times I've wanted to give up and return to those safe shores of my youth and innocence. Much in the same, they've grown old and lost their luster. To say then, I'd rather be here in the muck mired by the freedom of movement than stuck in the ways of the past that kept me guarded.
I've given up many great places people hold dear in their hearts-- in love, in family, in friendships, in homes. Often, I recall them. Yet, they only suited me then to make way for now.
Today, I enter into the vast unknown that is this writing career. I write in hopes that I'll be able to touch a chord with you through my creations and our shared experiences. I am armed with tools, knowledge, wisdom, and stories, but it is only I that can take the steps forward. Fear is all around me. But to refuse change means a certain death. Maybe not physical, but absolute in its defeat.