Magic
I have been wanting, and meaning, to write this post for a few weeks, and in part due to the subject at hand, time has been in short supply. I would be remiss, however, if I did not make the time to put down my thoughts about what Abigail has catalyzed for me. I’m writing this off the cuff; I don’t want to edit my emotions or rework them. This is from the heart.
For those of you who don’t know, Abigail is a rock opera about the Salem witch trials; it is a completely original work, created by Michael Xavier, Daniel Knop and Kurt Brown. This marks their first original rock opera after producing a number of successful rock opera “covers”, i.e. The Rocky Horror Show, Pink Floyd’s The Wall, Tommy and Jesus Christ Superstar. Few debuts are masterworks, but in my estimation, this one is. Aside from being an outstanding work of art and music, it has also been the catalyst for several momentous milestones in my life, all of which revolve around my return, in earnest, to the joy of music I thought I’d had to leave behind.
Some of you who will read this know my story; most probably don’t. Very briefly, I have been singing and performing onstage since I was six years old. I was active in competitive choir for my elementary, intermediate and high school years. After high school, I joined a band called The Mimsies, which would eventually make something of a splash in Hollywood and tour North America. I left the band under tragic circumstance in 2003, after ten years of nonstop gigging and recording. At that point, in the words of one of my new songs, “I put down the microphone and called it a day.” (more…)
Tonight, I Did This.
It’s trickling down my arms, now. It’s like the Freemont Street Experience in my limbs. Chase lights a-chasing, loud and unabashed. Trying to ignore it.
Try harder. Keep trying. What haven’t you tried? The great experiments haven’t exactly failed; they’ve only narrowed your expectations.
One. Thing. A. Day. (more…)
Limbo and a Specimen Cup
Yours is a world of hyperbole. A sometimes-eerie amusement park of exaggeration and extremes. Everything is a funhouse mirror, distorting what comes back to you in kaleidoscopic fashion; you’re thin, then you’re fat. You’re Fellini, then you’re Argento. How you long for a place in the middle; a mirror that reflects reality as it is. The closest you come to a middling stasis is limbo.
And limbo can be purgatory can be equal parts heaven and hell. (more…)
You. Are. Superman.
You sit in your car, alone, watching the rock squirrels dip and peek around the boulders at the Chinese restaurant. You stare at the notebook in your lap, tucked under the steering column, a page waiting for the gift of a pen mark. You’re concerned about what you write. You’re tired of hearing yourself mince and stew about it. You’re quite sure no one else wants to hear it, but something still impels you to commit the thoughts to paper. (more…)
