Thursday, July 2, 2009

Reflections on Sea Glass and Songwriters

Recently as I indulged in two of my most guilty pleasures: beach walking while looking for sea glass, and digesting the lyrics from a new album; it dawned on me that I have similar rating systems for both sea glass and songwriters. And so a rather bizarre parallel began to form in my mind.

Being a sea glass searcher began a few years ago as an excuse to walk the shore each morning. For some surely repressed psychological reason it’s difficult for me to acquiesce to anything that seems inherently purposeless, and although much thinking and processing goes on during these daily walks, as well as the fact that physical exercise should be my incentive, the act of searching for the illusive jewels of the beach adds another goal- a trite significance perhaps- but enough to motivate me all the same. As I became more proficient in my searches, as well as more selective concerning the pieces I deem worthy of my collection, the “thinker” in me began to kick in and the allegories began to flow.

You see, sea glass is much like the thoughts and ideas that bounce around my brain on a daily basis. Sea glass, starts as something quite ordinary and mundane, man made and usually fairly utilitarian, a beer or wine bottle, a window, a light bulb etc. My thoughts also are usually birthed in the common realm - as a query, an observation, or an emotional reaction to life itself. The origins of the sea “jewels” however are another thing. Glass comes from elements of earth created long before man had a thought or a design at all, therefore it never really surprises me that those elements exposed to time and nature revert to something more mysterious and beautiful after completing their more “useful” job. A quality of sea glass that I have come to appreciate as I search the sand, is the fact that the longer the glass has been buffeted and banged by the rocks and surf, the more difficult it is to define it, to see through it. It takes on a sturdier opacity, a visual solidity that masks its domesticated purpose and reveals a new beauty. My ideas and thoughts are so often that way too. Once a simple observation has been challenged and argued it often develops a deeper more eternal truthfulness to apply to my life and my view of the world. Conflict with the elements appears to enrich the glass. When my thoughts are challenged by experience and reality they also become sounder.

The colors of sea glass vary greatly. The most common are brown and white. In fact it is a real find when I glimpse the softer blues and greens among the broken shells and bleached coral. I have actually confirmed this excitement with other sea glass harvesters. We have no difficulty spotting each other along the breakers, ankle deep in beautiful shells but searching for something less obvious… something unique. I have been known on many occasions to hurl an unfinished piece back into the waves to complete its metamorphosis. I am always looking for the "best one."

And so, it occurred to me that day, that songwriters share that same fate at my hand, or ear. As I walked in the afternoon surf listening to Kevin Devine’s new album I stooped somewhat absent-mindedly to gather a few scattered pieces of sea glass. I casually pocketed the ones I felt worthy of keeping and left some others in the sand. Let me state that I am already a KD fan, mostly because of the person himself. I have rarely met a more like-able, authentic person, and being the word lover that I am, his ability to draw a picture with language draws me to his lyrics from first listen. However, in knowing just a little about the writer himself and watching, although distantly, the progression of his life, I looked forward to hearing his newest offering more than usual. I was eager to see if indeed life was teaching him the lessons he seems so earnest to communicate to his listeners.

Earlier in the day I had been reflecting on the progression of a couple of other wordsmiths that I enjoy, namely Luke Temple and Patty Griffin. They represent the two ends of the “growing thinker” spectrum to me. Luke, being a younger and a newer voice represents ideas that are fresh, if not necessarily new, and Patty seems to have lived the lives of far more souls than her 40+ years could possibly have afforded her. Her ideas are well worn and familiar at a very deep level. Maybe that is the definition of an “old soul,” it certainly fits her. I pondered the idea that to possess the gift of writing lyrics that speak to the heart of a listener is a rare jewel. Many songwriters are like the brown or white sea glass along the shore. Although they have the skill to string words together, they still “appear” too much like what they were “man-made” to be, shallow, angry, opinionated, arrogant, or just boring. They have yet to process their thoughts through life experience (crashing waves of reality) to the wonder flavored elements of universal human interactions and relationships. As far as ideas themselves go, there are very few, if any, new ones… however; occasionally you come across the person who can present an old idea in such a way that it appears fresh and new, worthy of keeping.

Most everyone has felt the emotion of “all is lost” at some point and to hear the lyrics “Nobody’s Crying” Patty Griffin / 1000 kisses, gives a breath of camaraderie to the deepest longing of every heart for rescue! I believe that the natural progressions of “thinkers” is to move beyond themselves and their opinions and learn to paint pictures with their words that represent global concepts that draw the story lover’s heart into their tale. Because somewhere within them they “know that feeling” or they have seen that reality played out and the story gives it solidity. It becomes less about “me” and more about how they view a world around them saturated in wonder at the diversity of human thoughts and interactions. These gifted ones are articulate observers that allow you to draw your own conclusions about their meaning. They are thinkers that invite you to think rather than telling you what to think. Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t think that truth itself is a relative idea, it’s just that Truth has a way of finding us if we want to be found. Ideas that have been well tested and tried merely clear the pathway.

So on this sun streaked afternoon, Kevin’s new songs struck me as pieces of softened aqua colored glass. They were not the common brown glass that is most available, but that glass that is rare and has weathered a storm or two. Songs less about stating the obvious anger and frustration of youth like the unpolished brown glass that still looks too much like what it actually is, a broken beer bottle, and more about painting a picture of life. Words seasoned by pain and regret, and yet far less likely to blame. Realizing as most “older” seasoned wordsmiths are wont to do, that they themselves are just as likely to cause pain and suffering as they are to cry out because of it. To me, there is great beauty in that kind of thought process, a solidity that allows us to accept the scuffing and buffeting of our ideas that turn them into something deeper, beautiful and rare.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Family Vacation

It's that time of year...vacation time. Our family usually doesn't take a full-on vacation during the summer because we usually plan our big vacation during the kid's spring break from school. We are fortunate to have the freedom with our business to take the time then, and since we spend a lot of time doing "mini" vacations at our little house on the lake in the summer, we usually just plan to go "big" in the spring instead.
Not so this year.
Since my sweet daughter is headed off to college this Fall, and her spring break will be different from the boys', it occurred to my husband that this was our last chance for a true family vacation, all together, no extra friends, or boyfriends or family members... so a true family vaction we had!
Let me outline it for you...10 hour drive to South Florida, during a heat wave, in one car, in one day. Surprisingly, no one was seriously hurt. (ipods and headphones have changed the way America travels, 'eh?)
Because I was preparing for the worst, I went online in advance, looking for a website that would share fun ways to pass the time on the road with kids. (You know, those websites written by women who bake their own bread and really want to homeschool their kids to spend more time with them...no offense, I respect these women. I'm just not one of them.) So I printed out highway scavenger hunt lists and word search puzzles and about 30 other pages of things to keep the younger ones busy. They refused all of my offers of wholesome time passers...except one: the 75 square foot roll of aluminum foil that I used to make foil sculptures!
What a hoot! We made turtles, a spoon, a duck and a bowl (the unoriginal entry from the 13 year-old before he realized how fun it really was.) Who knew that a roll of foil could pass as entertainment? Some bread-baking mom with a website, that's who! And before any environmentalists call for my head over wasting paper and foil, I assure you that most of it got recycled...certainly the foil turtle was recycled into a foil ball/projectile that was hurled at me while I was doing about 75mph on the Florida Turnpike. Let me tell you, there's nothing like a golfball sized recycled turtle whizzing by your ear and bouncing off the windshield to keep you awake on the highway. That 13 year-old boy has got a pretty good arm...

At the end of the trip, we had what we were hoping for...a family vacation full of sweet memories mixed with a little sand and sunburn, one incredibly long car ride...and lots of little foil scraps under the seats of the car.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

College Roommates and Retail Therapy

My college roommate drove over from the big city yesteday to spend the night at our house and to take a "breather" from the stress at her house .  

Why is it that the minute we get together, we forget we're in our mid-forties with responsibilities and kids with bedtimes, and start thinking we're 19 again?  We giggle like little kids, and as you might imagine, my kids and husband immediately start rolling their eyes... We stayed up well past my normal middle-aged bedtime, and shared a pretty good bottle of wine...

We don't care.  It's all funny to us.  Sometimes you just need a good dose of silly to set the world right again.  Or at least it works for us.  And if a dose of goofy roommate doesn't do it, there's always "retail therapy."  But in this economy, who can really get some good quality therapy in the mall?  Not us, so we just went to the Dollar Store!!!  About $100 later, we both felt pretty darn good.  And we have some incredible treasures that we're planning to bestow on some really special friends...(people should be getting nervous about now...)

All I have to say is, good friends are a blessing.  After 25 years, it's good to know I've got somebody outside of my family, that knows me well enough to laugh with me and at me, and still likes me enough to carve out time to keep the friendship going.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Blackberry Winter Strikes

It was 48 degrees this morning when I woke my sons up for their last Tuesday of school for 2009.  And since one of them had morning detention at 7:15 for an un-tucked shirt (who is really being punished?  ME!  I had to get up at 5:45 to get him out the door and still get son #2 to school at the regular time...)  But I digress... it was really cold considering we've been in the lower 80s for a couple of weeks now.  

My mom and dad are visiting for my sweet daughter's high school graduation, so I got my dad's perspective on this cold snap...he says it's Blackberry Winter.  What in the world is a Blackberry Winter, you ask?  According to the Appalachian folklore handed down for generations and eventually to my Daddy, it's a cold snap that comes around the time that blackberries are in bloom,  usually in early to mid May, and it sets the buds on the canes to insure a good crop of blackberries.  Sounds reasonable to me.  And to think, I thought it had something to do with a PDA freezing up...

And it brings back so many memories of blackberry pickin' in the Dog Days of Summer...which I will now have to ask my Daddy what that is...  My guess is that the Dog Days of Summer are those hot days when you wish you were a dog, just laying under the porch in the shade, or finding a creek to offer some relief. 

No matter.  I'm just loving spending time with my mom and dad and hearing their southern sayings and southern wisdom and wives tales while reflecting on the next generation's passing through life so quickly... I'll just put on a sweater.