But The Song It Was Long

Not necessarily one of my all-time BDFs [Bob Dylan Faves], but sometimes "Eternal Circle" gives me a sting I deem worth a mention.

 But the song it was long ...
         ... And I'd only begun.
                  ... And there was more to be sung.

                           ... And it was far to the end.

                                    ... And it had to get done.

I don't ever know if I'm interpreting songs or poems or articles or book passages or emails or really anything the way the creator [not creator, as in Creator of Heavens & Earth, but as in creator of aforementioned piece of communication/art] intended the audience interpret. But most artists I know [shout-outs below in my "P.S."] claim to be chill with that. And I'm sure Bobby Dee is the chillest of 'em all. Also sure that by the time I'm famous enough [for my EAR ART... see post right after this] for my blog to be worth a read, there will be a new Urban Dictionary Definition of the word "chill", and I'll be scotch-free. Scotch-free? Ah, I digress... point is, might be way off, but here's how this song makes me feel ... what the lyrics make me think ... and ultimately, what "Eternal Circle" has me blogging about:

There's this seemingly endless angstiness I've never been able to shake. This hyper-awareness that there is so much to know, to read, to ask, to wonder. There are infinitely more people in existence that I would love the chance to spend 3-hour coffee dates with than I will ever get to. As soon as I think I understand anything at all, every single time I'm hit with cement wall keeping the 5th graders away from the 1st graders on my playground, and I feel the sting. The cement that tells me I'll never get to it all. There's so much. Too much. It's too long. And I'm only at the beginning, even after I think I've made it past some arbitrary definition of "beginning" and have maybe, just maybe, segued into some sort of a "middle" or "pre-" or "post-phase" I can categorize neatly. But without literally going back to the measureless "beginning", I nearly start over every time I'm immersed in some new experience.

That's one version of my weekly panic attacks, always prompted by this song. Another is smaller, more intimate, yet significantly heavier and more complicated.  In this version, I think specifically about the intricately tangled mess I've made of my nearly 25-years in PE [planet earth. not gym glass. although, hollllller, who misses gym class!?] ... and I wonder how anyone else will find the time, motivation, intrigue, resources, magic it'd take to listen to the whole song. The whole song I'm still writing, mind you. The whole song that not even I can explain. I can't believe I have the audacity to expect a friend, a boyfriend, an employer, a family member, a therapist, anyone to even untangle one line of one verse when I might not even be able to confirm the attempted untangled new format. By then, it's likely that I'd have changed that line's entire context and meaning anyway, right? 

By the time this song has me bidding ado any naive hopes of true connection and goodness I formerly grasped with all my soul, I'm comforted by the realistic voice in my head that reminds me to get over myself because I'm not the first, and I certainly won't be the last to feel this way. And I'm not even as poetic as describing it as 95% of the people who do describe it are. And I'm certainly missing the dose of brilliance needed to really get this stuff. To really feel these ways. To be worth even mentioning I feel lost. 

Yeah, strange that I find comfort in what seems to be a sort of self-deprecating critique. But I don't think that's what it is. Or maybe I truly am my mother's hopelessly optimistic daughter denying any glimpse of depression within myself. Regardless, what it feels like seems to be what matters. And it feels like I'm humbled. Like I'm humbled and reminded that it's all so much bigger than me.

There's so much. Too much. It's too long. And I'm only at the beginning .... and THAT IS AWESOME! Whatever it all is or means or can be or should be or randomly came to be ... no matter who gets me or tries to or wants or could care less ... I'm here, and it's all here. And I can take it or leave it. And it can take me or leave me. But if I get to have just a microscopic portion of it all for even just an insignificantly not-worth-mentioning-or-scheduling moment in all of time ... I will take it. I'm lucky to have it. 

...And began the next song.

P.S. Some talented artists I know who come to mind:

• Beamer Aston - Masterfully skilled in too many art mediums to list, and maybe more importantly, a spirit that strongly resembles the depth, complication, beauty, innovation and sincerity of his artwork. [Currently enjoying life in the NC w his gorgeous and brilliant wife, Liz Aston .... I believe they're planning their trip to visit me in the Lou soon, yes? ;)]
• Billy Croghan - Undoubtedly the best singer-songwriter I know, and I wouldn't doubt one of the greatest of our time. Calling it. Billy has a way with words that I actually would compare to Bob Dylan. I have no idea how to compare is sound, but maybe that lack of comparison is the only way to define his unique talent.  
• Kenny DeShields II - With the stage presence I don't think anyone can practice to perfection the way he has so naturally executed and the ability to connect with everyone he meets so sincerely, Kenny DeShields has a true gift for performance.  
• Kayla Foust - One of my 90+ cousins from my mama's side, Kayla can sketch / doodle/ draw ... whatduyuhcallit? ... like nobody's business. She's always been good, but I don't think I realized/appreciated just how good until witnessing her 2011 Christmas Eve Production set backdrop.
• Donnie Howard - The oldest Howard brother and my younger-bigger-taller-little brother has always had a talent for taking seemingly complicated matters and explaining them in a way that gives listeners confidence in themselves. I believe that this gift of his personality is represented in his music. Both his gift for playing and his passion for listening. I also seriously love this kid and will attempt to embarrass him in public until the day I die. Err, or 'til the day he dies. I don't think I'll try anything at his funeral. UGH. What is the matter with me?! TOO FAR, SAM. 
• Blake Paxton - What can't Blake do? Bold and beautiful singer, dance partner, performer, advocate, writer, professor, student and friend. Blake is not only a one-of-a-kind guy with countless talents and interests, but is someone you MUST party with.
• Mike Pratt - Only men's athletic shoe designer I've eve met, but probably the most handsome. Marrying my dear friend Summer Bernal very soon! [Summer, please tell me if I am embarrassing music lovers everywhere with the pathetically underdeveloped references I make ...]. Back to Mike -- this guy can also design some beautiful souvenir-esque artwork in five minutes that is better than things I've seen mulled over for hours.
• John Schranck - Remarkable writer with a vocabulary that embarrasses me to even attempt to keep up with. Also probably one of the wittiest people I'll ever meet. I never feel smart around John, but I think he may personify the strangely comforting self-deprecating critique I mention above.
• Rachel Walters - Fashion designer extraordinaire. I went to high school with Rachel, and believed even then that I was pretty damn lucky to have French class with someone with an eye and passion for fashion like hers. 

P.P.S. Remember the Bob Dylan song reference above? How I mention the anxiety I sometimes [and by sometimes I mean almost always] feel when I get to that point in an experience where I realize I've only just begun .... I've only just scratched the surface, and there's no way I can say / write / sing / draw / design / dance / hear / read / watch it all in the time I have with the resources I have? Well, case-in-point ... I started this baby list of artists thinking I'd maybe link to like 3 friends. But I'm leaving this post realizing that I've left out so many talented people I know and love and adore, and I feel awful about it. Anxious and awful. But if I keep adding and nitpicking and feeling bad for what I've left out and being overwhelmed by the things I know I'll never get to .... I'll never do anything. And, yeah, maybe a blog post [I know, still too long with these things] isn't a big deal, a huge leap, even a tiny 'success' ... but it's only the beginning, right? I've got to do something.