So This Is Goodbye

I'm sad to say it - but this is the end. For the foreseeable future, this blog is shutting down - due to some unfortunate, unforeseen circumstances.

I'd like to thank each and everyone of you out there who joined me on this journey - reading my stories, watching my videos, and listening to my songs. It's been a lot of fun and I never thought I'd make it to 842 posts.

Maybe I'll come back sometime, but for now, this is the end of the road.

Cheers,
-Drew

Bring your love to me. I will hold it like a dandelion. One I want to save, one I want to keep from the breeze that follows me.

Song of the Day (Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay) 10.11.13

Well it's that time. Fall has arrived. The heavier winds are blowing in, leaves are starting to fall off the trees (even though they're still green) and it's cold enough that I can bust out my 'soft pants' (sweat pants).

Oh right - and it's Friday. So chalk another one up.

This has been a hell of a week. One of the worst I can remember but thankfully it's over. And I have the perfect song to kick off the weekend. It's one that I'll always link to my summers spent on the Jersey Shore. Back when I was a kid, without a care in the world - playing in the waves, digging in the sand, when all that mattered was having fun. And after this week, I could use a few of those moments. But hey - the weeks over and behind us. Hopefully as you listen to this, you'll join me in imagining the shining sun, laughing gulls calling in the distance, and the salt of the ocean in your nostrils. This is Otis Redding's "(Sittin' on) The Dock of the Bay."

Faces In The Crowd

I was waiting for this moment to happen. For another music video to pop up and wow me. Leave me speechless.

It's been a while since one has and boy is it a doozy.

I've talked about videos like this before - heck, I've even had a concept brewing in my head very similar to this. Not in execution, but in terms of taking thousands of photos and stringing them together to create a video (not stop motion). So when I stumbled upon this one, I was excited. The concept isn't the deepest, but I respect the sheer amount of planning, preparation, and work that went into this.

From there - I'll just let you enjoy it. And on top of the video being awesome - the song is pretty fantastic as well.

The Paper Kites: Young from Oh Yeah Wow on Vimeo.

More Time

There are days when everything in the world seems to be stacked against you. No matter where you go, who you turn too, or what you do - it all beats down on you. Pushing you deeper and deeper into an abyss - until there is no more light and it's hard to breath. You're trapped, lost - ready to give in.

And in these moments, I pick out a memory.

This time, it was sitting at a table in a bustling street, under an overcast sky. The clouds above, although grey, glowed brightly - leaving the city in a dull haze. It was breezy. The wind was whipping up and down the cobblestones - tugging at the bottom of my shirt and the cuffs of my jacket before moving on to play with your hair. Each gust reminded us how chilly it was. The kind of cold that nipped at the tops of my ears and tried to get to the back of my neck, between my collar and my skin. But it was the pure kind of cold. That cleaned out your chest with every inhale and exhale. It tasted fresh, blowing in off the bay. All around us people were continuing on with their evenings - sneaking in some quick shopping before the sun slipped away for the night and the shops closed. Seeing them so happy, ducking in and out of stores, laughing, smiling, enjoying their company made me happy. I felt a part of it.

By the time the coffee had arrived, my fingers were desperate to wrap themselves around the mug. Even tucked into my pockets, they couldn't hide from the weather. As we sat there, discussing what we were each going to order, I couldn't help but look at you and only you. Nothing else mattered. The busy city around me fell away. It had been so long. I was still having trouble comprehending that I was actually there. With you. At that moment, even looking over the menu with you made me smile - let alone talking about anything else. When the waiter finally came back over, eager to take our order, I took a leap and chose the grilled octopus skewer. I couldn't be more pleased when they brought it out to me. Laid out in a beautiful pattern, accented by charred shrimp and boiled potatoes. I'll never forget that first bite. Juicy and succulent.  Fresher than any seafood I had ever had.

As we finished our meals, we decided to share a couple glasses of wine and relish in the moment. The more I looked around, I realized I was completely at ease. For one of the first times, there was nothing in my mind except the moment I was presently in. And as we sat there, sipping from our glasses, we continued to talk. Nothing in specific. How things were going, if anything exciting was going on in our respective lives - sharing funny stories. It was the kind of conversation that required little to no effort. It just flowed. Our words drifting out with ease, eventually swept down the street by the passing breeze. And the entire time, I kept taking you in. The curls of your hair, how beautiful your smile was - the way your cheeks became rosy in he cold air. All of it endearing.

Then you were plucked away from the table. By a group of raucous older women who had clearly spent the afternoon and evening shopping. Maybe even enjoying a few cocktails - their laughter echoing out between the buildings. They had requested you help them look for a lost earring. One that had just fallen out in front of our table. So I just sat there, looking down at the cobblestones as well. Trying to spot a glimmer in the remaining sunlight. A few times I stopped to watch you interact with them. Laughing along with them. And then almost as if at the same moment, we had a revelation. To look on the bottom of their shoes - hoping one of them had stepped on it. Bingo. There it was, lodged into the heel of the boot of the woman who was looking for it. After an assortment of "thank you's," they were on their way, back into the heart of the city.

And that is where the memory ends. That one singular moment. Lasting no more than an hour. Seemingly insignificant and small. So how would it help me get back on my feet when I'm feeling lost or dejected? That's simple.

It's another moment I get to spend with you.

Night Prior

As the sun had began to sneak into the room between the spaces left by the blinds, she couldn't help but open her eyes a little bit. It took her a moment, but she finally realized where she was. Safe and sound, in her bed - lost amongst a sea of blankets.

The previous night had been a blur. Her mind was struggling to remember what had happened - it didn't help that she was as comfortable as she was - her body pressing her to just close her eyes and fall asleep once again. From what she could scrape together in the back of her head - they had started out like any other evening. Meeting up at a local haunt and having a couple drinks. Laughing and dancing with one another. Completely harmless. Followed by a visit to one of their favorite hidden spots. Someone's house that had been converted into a bar. No one actually knew if it was legal, but no one ever asked or gave the owners any problems. From there, her memories of the night quickly began to wash out. It was all a bit fuzzy - which she could attribute to the alcohol. Her head was just beginning to throb, reminding her exactly how much she had indulged the previous night. 

Looking around the room, she noticed her blouse from the night before hanging on the windowsill - hung with great care. And then it all came flooding back. One round after the next. Round after round. Their talking had become more boustrus. Their laughter louder. As the liquor flowed - their minds' loosened. It had been a great time. But then that fine line was crossed. That singular line. The one that was always a beacon of reference when drinking - that demanded respect because if it was crossed, you'd pay for it. 

But luckily he had been there. By her side the entire evening, joining in on the festivities and raucous laughter. And as she approached that threshold and crossed over, he was still there to take care of her. There were still moments of it that were missing, pieces that she couldn't find, but she remembered him graciously walking her outside - wishing all her friends well before bringing her home. It was nice having someone to lean on during the walk back to the apartment, to hold close against the cold evening air. She didn't remember most of it but there were a few moments she could shake free - seeing the moon between the passing tree branches, his breath against the black sky. And before she knew it, they had arrived. He carried her upstairs and laid her in bed - telling her he'd, 'be right back.' She vaguely remembered him walking in and out a few times - bringing her water, some fresh clothes to put on, hanging her blouse gingerly on the windowsill before finally helping her beneath the covers. 

There were a few more sporadic moments throughout the night that she could remember. How safe she felt in his arms, her back nestled up against his chest and stomach - the way he smelled, the softness of his skin against hers. The radiating heat from his body. How it warmed her to the core. His whispering of "good night," in her ear.

Sitting up in bed, she looked to her side - startled to not see him there. Instead, it was just her comforter, bunched up against the wall. But after a few seconds, she heard it. A low and slow rhythm, coming out from underneath the fabric. Pulling it back just a bit, she could make out his tussled hair amongst the folds. Sliding back into bed, she shimmied over towards him - immediately feeling his heat once again.

She was happy it hadn't been a dream.

Falling Up

It had happened so fast. Before she could even comprehend the situation.

She had just been walking along. Like any other morning - iPod in her ears, grooving to the sweet rhythm N.E.R.D., sipping on her iced coffee. All throughout the park other people were indulging in the same activities. Walking their dogs, jugging down the winding paths - soaking in the fresh morning air. At first she thought it may have just been a passing tremor. One that had occurred far away - sending a few aftershocks or ripples their direction. It didn't last long nor was it that strong, but she had noticed it. Enough that she had to check her footing. But then came another. A little stronger than the last and a little longer. She could tell after the second one it wasn't far away. It was much closer than she had anticipated, but she paid little attention to it. All the lessons back in elementary and middle school were popping up in her mind. She was out in a field, not inside - there was little to worry about. There was nothing around that could fall onto her and it clearly wasn't strong enough of a quake to split the ground beneath her like she had seen in a cheesy sci-fi movie.

But as the second tremor was beginning to subside, she was taken back by the amount of pollen that had been shook lose from the ground. Throughout the park, large plumes were spreading out into the air. Unlike anything she had ever seen. Each mass just hung in the air and continued to rise rather than dispersing back down towards the grass. It was as if something was slowly pulling it skyward - in no rush.

Thats when she heard the first scream.

Looking off in the distance she could see where it was coming from. When she was able to make out what she was seeing - she froze. On the other side of the park was a lady, looking around frantically, yelling out loud. Nothing in particular, but just making noise. In her hands was a leash that was pointing straight into the sky and on the end of it was her dog - suspended in the air and continuing to rise. She could see the woman fighting against whatever force was trying to rob her of her pet. Little by little she was losing her footing - almost pulled onto her toes. Before anyone was able to reach her - she was off the ground herself, floating into the blue morning sky.

And thats when all the other screaming began.

All around her people were beginning to literally take off. Pulled from the ground - along with any other loose objects. Back in one of the parking lots she could see a few cars beginning to rise, blades of grass littered the air around her, even loose dirt was beginning to brush against her face and invade her nose. Not knowing what to do, she threw herself down and dug her hands into the soil. Grabbing as much grass and sod as she could. As much as she fought it though, she could feel her legs lifting up toward the sky. It didn't take long before she was completely vertical - holding on with all she could. And at one point, with one final shutter from the Earth, she could actually feel a shift in the planet. She couldn't explain it, but it no longer felt like she was being sucked up. Now she felt like she was holding on from falling. That if she let go - she'd fall forever, into the sky, until she finally broke through into space and drifted away.

She could feel the grass straining in her fingers - each blade slowing uprooting itself against her weight. All around her people were struggling as well - but failing. Every couple of seconds she could hear someone else fall - their screams echoing out. She couldn't look. Refused to look - holding her eyes shut. She could feel her knuckles beginning to throb, arms start to quake. It wouldn't be long before she fell herself. And at the very last moment before she did - she opened here eyes and looked around. She was all that was left. Everyone else had gone. Fallen down, into the sky. The bright blue abyss below.

When the grass finally did give in, she barely even noticed. It felt as if she was flying. Zooming away from the planet. Even though it felt like she was falling, her mind told her she was taking off like a rocket - blasting into the stratosphere. Everything looked so beautiful - so tiny and minuscule below. It was amazing watching the planet shrink before her eyes the further she fell. It felt like she had been falling for years until it suddenly stopped and everything was plunged into a brilliant white.

As she sat up, she was confused. Almost disappointed it was over. Her entire body was tingling. Each breath she took was more refreshing than the last. She felt wonderful. Light and free. The ground below her feet felt soft and squishy. It wasn't until she felt the condensation collecting on her arm that she realized where she was.

Lost in the clouds.

When I see you, a blanket of stars covers me in my bed

Song of the Day (Mrs. Potter's Lullaby) 10.04.13

Well, we've made it to October. Holy hell.

How did we make it here? Better yet - what am I going to be for Halloween?

But first, lets dive into the weekend with a good tune or two. This week, the song just feels right for the time of year that it is. Yes, sure, it's still warm here in LA, but you can tell it's becoming fall. It's breezier, the nights are colder, and grey clouds litter the morning sky. But most of all, it just feels like autumn. And there is just something about this song that is fitting for the changing weather. Oh right, and that it just always seems to apply itself somehow to my life whenever I listen to it. Most of us can connect to songs depending on our mood - as if they were written for us at the moment we were listening to them - but this song always feels like mine. Regardless of what is going on, I can turn it on and identify with something in the lyrics. Whether it be Fantasy Island, movies, being unhappy with something, the love for someone else - it just always hits close to home. Oh right, and it's a throwback jam from the 90's - so it has that going for it as well. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I do. It's kind of a classic in my book. This is The Counting Crows' "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby."

Pieces of the World

Yup, just as you imagined, I'm still on my documentary kick. But unlike the last few weeks, I have two to share with you this evening!

The first is literally a perfect example of what a short documentary should be. In under five minutes, it tells a complete story, while managing to keep you entertained the entire time. The music used, the way it is cut, even the footage itself is beautiful. Everything about this video is great. The subects' stories, the way they take pride in their work. And like every video I've shared in the last year, this just makes me want to travel more. Get out and see the world. Appreciate what is out there.

Django Django - WOR from Jim Demuth on Vimeo.


The second piece is also a prime example for what a short documentary should be - but the subject couldn't be any different. Yes, it tells a condensed story. Managing to keep you hooked just like the last. But the overall feeling of this one is less frantic, more subdued. It's much more of an observational piece. It almost hypnotizes you with it's beauty. The crystal blue water, the brilliant green moss dangling from the tree limbs. It makes Canada look absolutely stunning (which obviously it is). Maybe it doesn't do anything for you - but this piece tugged at my heart. Hearing the stories from the workers, of how they want to preserve nature, provide for the woodland creatures, or the little anecdotes about their families. Yet overall, this makes me want to get back into nature. Into the wilderness. Where I have no worries and can relax. Sleep under the stars, breath the fresh air, listen to the crackling of a fire. How it should be.

Restoring The Atleo River from Mark Wyatt on Vimeo.

Wash It Away

It was just one of those days.

When it rained, it poured.

The morning had started off terribly. Somehow in the midst of her sleeping, she managed to reach over towards her alarm no less than three times and turn it off. Luckily for her, she had always had a pretty decent internal clock, which, this morning, woke her up - still way late of when she should have gotten out of bed. So right off the bat she was in a hurry. Banging her leg off the side of the bathtub as she clamored in, cutting her shin slightly and she tried to do a quick spot shave - she was even out of milk by the time she made her way downstairs, head still wrapped up in a towel. So as she stood on the curb, waiting for the bus to arrive, she choked down her coffee - thinking additional sugar would ease the lack of cream.

When the bus finally did pull up in front of her, she was annoyed to see that were no available seats. So she climbed aboard and squeezed in amongst the commuter crowd. Usually lack of personal space didn't bother her, but because of how the morning had already begun, the proximity of everyone around her started to wear on her. She could feel the people around her as they brushed up against her. She could smell their breath lingering in the air - accents of coffee and tea on top of the minty aroma of recently brushed teeth. To her right she could hear the tunes pumping out of someone's iPod - louder than it ever needed to be. Letting the entire bus know what they were listening to. She felt trapped. Confined by these people. Like she was on exihibt. Being tested by her environment.

Thankfully though her stop was just around the block. As the doors opened before her, she lunged at the opportunity to get off. Skipping most of the stairs on the way down - feeling a sense of relief as soon as the cement of the sidewalk made contact with her shoes. As she continued down the block, she felt a slight vibration in her purse. Pulling out her phone, she stopped as she read the message. The big meeting, with the huge client that she had been working on for the last few months had been called off. For one reason or another they had lost the account. Deep down in her chest her heart sank. Behind her eyes she could already feel the tears beginning to form. She had sunk so much of her time into it. Lost weekends and numerous nights of sleep.

As she stood there, bewildered by how horribly the day had not only begun, but continued, she heard the loud clap of thunder echo out above the city and reverberate throughout the buildings. And before she could react, the sky had opened up and was upon her. Thick, fat raindrops pounded into her and splattered against the pavement. In a matter of second she was soaked through - hair matted against her face, blouse and skirt drenched, hugging her skin. All around her people ran for cover while she just stood there with a measly newspaper over her head - the best option she thought of.

But deep down, she didn't mind. The absurdity of the situation brought out a chuckle. And it felt good. Laughing at it all. The oversleep, the shaving accident, the crowded bus, a lost account. It all seemed so silly. Why did she let anything so insignificant get under her skin? There was absolutely no reason.

So she continued on, walking towards her office, unaffected by the rain - the smell of ozone tickling her nose.

And for the first time, in quite some time, she felt a spring in her step.

Drooling

Well, the technological world did it again. Duped me. Kind of like Apple, or any other phone company out there that has the habit on introducing a new product every year, but only changing it ever so slightly, GoPro, the camera company, just did the same thing.

Did what I just say make any sense? Ok - let me try again. A lot of these companies release new products on a two year schedule. The iPhone 5 came out last Sept 2012, and the iPhone 6 will launch in 2014, but a few weeks ago, they released a slightly updated version - just to make a little more cash. You know, to draw in those people who always need the newest and best things (I almost fell for it...but I'll just wait a few more months for the brand new model). Why is this relevant? Well, it took me a long time to finally commit into buying a GoPro and I dove in head first, buying the newest, top-end model a few months ago. And what do you know? Yesterday they released an "in between model"and I'm a little bitter. My major concern with GoPros has always been their rather poor battery life. Well guess what one of the major issues addressed in this new model was? Bingo.

Anywho - it doesn't matter because mine is still one hell of a camera and I'll get much more use out of it before I upgrade again. But that being said - GoPro released a new video shot with their new tech and it couldn't be more drool inducing. Lately I've been playing with the idea of moving. Possibly North up to San Fran and trying to get a job with them. Not in the engineering or designing department, but maybe as an editor or someone out in the field shooting footage. How cool would that be? I'd be able to travel to all these exotic places, doing what I love - shooting and being paid for it. Oh right and I'd be living in San Francisco. Count me in. That's still just a thought though...nothing concrete.

So back on track. No, I'm not writing a story tonight. This video is just too fun and beautiful to ignore. You can be the judge of it yourself, but hopefully you appreciate the imagery, the scope of each shot, the editing, the music, the colors. God. It's so gorgeous.

Yes...and there are lions.

Seaside Relics

It was the early hours of the morning when the rising sun would catch the tide pools at just the right angle and make the beach look like it was covered in diamonds.

It was her favorite part of the year. Summer. When she could wake up each morning and walk down to the shore. The world quiet around her. Still asleep. The air was chilly. Blowing through the dune grass, rustling the stalks as it went by - sometimes whistling if it caught the right blade. She'd always have to be bundled up, hiding her skin from the breeze. Trying her hardest to avoid an outbreak of goosebumps. Even though it was the same each morning, she was always amazed at the sky. How brilliantly beautiful it was. The pure blue of the sky directly overhead. How it slowly bled into the orangish yellow of the morning light as the sun began to make it's presence known. It looked like a painting. Colors blending together into a magnificent opus.

When her feet finally did touch the sand, she'd always stop for a moment. Letting her skin adjust to its temperature. It was cold. Numbing her toes. But it was a comfortable numb. Embracing her feet. She could feel herself sinking in. And it didn't bother her. It was welcoming. She felt like she was being held by mother nature - supported by the world around her.

It wasn't until she started moving forward, out over the still wet sand that she began looking. All around her were hundreds of tide pools. Left on shore by a fleeting tide. And in each one lay a hidden treasure. Various seas creatures - crabs, schools of fish, muscles, starfish. The possibilities were endless. And each one intrigued her. She could become transfixed watching a group of fish swim aimlessly around in the confinement of a pool. Sometimes if the pools yielded nothing, she'd dig down into the soft, wet sand, as deep as her arm would allow her to go - even up to her shoulder - rooting around for sand crabs. Pulling them to the surface to watch them squirm and wiggle as they tried to get back to their granulated homes. But most of the time she was looking for relics dropped by the ocean. Whole sea shells. Unblemished by rolling waves or strong currents. On the days she was lucky, she'd stumble upon a piece or two of sea glass. Perfectly smooth from years of tumbling along the sea floor. Sanded down to a cloudy gem. Back home she had quite the collection - ranging from browns and green, to the more rare yellow and blues.

But most of all, before the rest of the world woke up and joined her down on the beach, she felt alive. Like herself. Playing and wandering like she once had.

When she was just a girl growing up on the coast.

I want to taste the salt of your skin

Song of the Day (Jamming) 09.27.13

Can you feel it? Autumn is here, Halloween right around the corner. I'm sure for many of you out there, the leaves are even beginning to change. Not so much here in sunny Southern California, but there are a few trees starting to turn - heck, there are even a few that are jumping ahead and shedding their leaves already. While in no means is our fall as severe as your's may be - after living here a few years, it feels like fall to me already. The sun setting earlier, the different light of the day, the breeze - hopefully more rain.

It makes me miss the East.

And boy, do I ever this week. I'm glad it's Friday. I honestly don't think I could make it another day. All I want to do is curl up in a ball in my bed and not leave the house. I'd be content closing my eyes tonight and opening them to find it was Monday. It's been a really tough week and there are some major decisions I have to make soon.

So what kind of music fits this mood? Nothing depressing actually. Mellow sure, but something to lift the spirits. I've played some of his music before, but I've never given him the respect he deserves and this year, I've been listening to him a lot - finding that he can cheer me up pretty quickly. The smooth melodies, his calm voice, the messages in the lyrics. I can just turn him on and groove out, forgetting about everything else around me. So that's what I'm doing. Turning the volume up and letting go for a bit. This is Bob Marley's "Jamming."

Medicinal Miracle

Like I shared last week, I've been on a bit of a kick regarding documentaries. I find that I haven't had much time lately to sit down and read as much as I'd like - nothing compared to when I was still a school and plowing through books. So I've been trying to watch these different shorts at work, or when I have a couple free minutes to try and continue learning - even if the topics themselves are random and not necessarily applicable to my life.

But this next short that I'm going to show you hits a little close to home. It's about the drug Ambien. I myself have never dealt with it first hand, but I know many people who have, for whatever reason. Depression, insomnia, etc. All I ever knew about it was that it made you sleepy, kind of numb to the world - in your own bubble for a while. Not necessarily happy, but 'doped up' enough not to be bothered by your problems. Little did I know though, that the medical field is on the edge of a massive breakthrough. Somehow, something in the drug, some ingredient or combination of ingredients, is doing miraculous things in certain patients. Waking one from a coma, temporarily increasing the IQ in a patient who has severe brain damage, allowing damaged cells, muscles, and nerves to become active in another. Yet no one can put a finger on why. They're doing their best. But for now - they just know it works.

So what is it exactly? I don't know in the slightest, but I am super intrigued by this. That such a simple drug, meant for something as simple as making it easier for people to sleep, is revolutionizing how we look at other serious illnesses and ailments. By the end of the documentary, I found myself with more questions than when I started, but it didn't matter since I was so enamored by it. I truly hope they figure out what in the drug is causing these miracles and find a way to apply it to more people in need, but until then, I'm content with being amazed by modern medicine.

A Quick Buck

She had never been a fan of being the bad guy. She didn't think it suited her well.

Although, she would be the first to admit that she had her years of pouting when she was younger. Causing a stink in a public place, refusing to eat her vegetables. Coming home with mud stains on her paints when her mother had clearly said not to get dirty. Sometimes it was out of spite - not agreeing with what her parents had told her, wanting to go against the grain. Show them how dumb they were being. But most of the time, she was just acting her age. Stubborn. Not wanting to give in. No other reason than to argue for the sake of arguing. It never took long for her to snap out of it though. Her parents saw right through her charade and knew that the tiniest amount of pressure would cause her to break. A simple raise in tone of voice and her nerves would kick in. She was like an animal, ears folded back low, tail hanging between her legs. They knew how to make her feel wrong quickly. It never took long for the tears to well up around her eyes and her bottom lip to start quivering - followed by the obligatory "sorry."

But he. He was so different.

Over the years she had watched him grow. From a toddler, to a young boy - sprouting into the teen that he was today. It had never been too much work. Just an easy way to pick up some spending money while she was making her way through high school. When he was younger, he had been such a sweet boy. Innocent and harmless. He'd listen to her. Treat her well. But as the years went on and he continued to mature, his mind seemed to remain in the past while his body grew. He still argued about what he wanted to eat for dinner, when he'd have to go to bed, if he could have friends over. It never seemed to stop. It was always more, more, more, me, me, me.

And tonight had been no exception. It had begun with what they were going to eat. His parents had left her some money to go out and buy food with and cook at home. But he insisted that they should use it to buy pizza. As much as she declined his suggestion, citing what his parents wanted them to eat, he fought back. Raising his voice every time it was his turn to talk. Sometimes calling her names. A tactic he had always used - one that only made her roll her eyes since she had done the same to her parents. Eventually he gave up, seeing that she was not going to back down. So it was onto something else. Inviting friends over to hangout. Nope. Again - his parents had warned her not to let anyone visit. It was a school night and he had some work that needed to be done. Time for play could come later.

Before she had time to prepare, he was storming out the back door of the house and into the yard. As she followed him out, she was shocked to find him, plopped face down in the grass, kicking his legs and banging his arms - yelling into the perfectly cut grass. So she stood there for a few minutes, just soaking it in. Perplexed that even he, at that age, would be having such a tantrum. She had been bad when she was younger. But she had never resorted to anything so pathetic. And the more and more she thought about it, the less and less she cared. So she turned around and walked back inside. Happy to know that she only had a few more hours with the little turd before his parents came home and she'd be able to leave, money in hand.

And as she walked away, she felt a smile on her face. Maybe being the bad guy could occasionally feel good.

Happily Lost

He could hear it echoing out through the trees and into the valley below. Loud and proud. Her laughter. Standing out against the noises of mother nature. Over the birds calling to one another, the rushing water of distant falls, the wind skating over the top of the bluffs, just barely tickling the tops of the trees. Managing to demand attention. Rising above everything else.

It brought a smile to his face.

It was infectious. Boisterous. Had no desire to be held back. It was perfect.

When they had both started the hike, there was no plan. No end point. No particular path to follow. Just a spur of the moment decision to follow one of the trails up the hill. They were merely tourists to the area - there to soak in all the beauty. Absorb what they could from such a pristine place. And so they had. Beginning each day at sun up and only retiring back to their site when the last bit of light had disappeared - making the trails too dangerous to venture.

At the beginning of the trip, as he was loading the car and packing his things, he had a slight concern about camping with a woman. He had faith in her love of the outdoors - she had proven it before, but he was curious about what would transpire. How adventurous they could be, if the days would be filled with rigorous hiking or if they'd mosey around the campsite and take in most of the scenery from within the car - exploring on four wheels.

He couldn't have been more wrong. She was there to get dirty. Explore. Bask in the glory of the outdoors. She had been a complete bundle of joy. Eager to get out into the woods and start a new adventure each and every day. She disregarded trail signs, venturing off, determined to get closer to the waterfalls. She climbed up on large boulders to get a better view of the valley, even sitting on a overhang, letting her feet dangle off the edge - totally immersed. There were moments where he'd have to stop to catch his breath, only to look up and see her still bounding up the trail, as if the steep incline and sweltering heat somehow didn't affect her. He was impressed. Sometimes speechless.

She was a machine.

But most importantly - she did it all with a smile on her face. That large, welcoming grin. Not only that, but she'd make him laugh. Giving him a hard time whenever he stumbled on a root or needed to sit along the edge of the trail. Ribbing him the entire way. And throughout it all, he couldn't be more happy. It was balm for is soul. Out in the middle of the woods - the place he cherrished so much, with the person that meant the world to him. He felt at ease. That everything was finally alright. Because he didn't need to try. And neither did she. They just existed with one another.

When he did finally snap out of his reflection, he realized he was alone on the trail. She was nowhere to be seen. In front of behind. He wondered how long he must have been thinking, oblivious to her continuing along. For a split second he could feel the worry tingling deep down in his gut, but that was erased as soon as he heard her laughter off in the distance. And as he was pulling he backpack up over his shoulders, he saw here up ahead, standing on a rock, waving frantically for him to catch up.

Continuing on up the hill, he picked up his pace slightly, eager to make it to her - hoping that this adventure would never end.

Wading in Memories

As soon as she had opened the door to the car and the mountain air flooded her nostrils, it all came flooding back. All the memories. Each and every day. The laughter. The tears. The late night meals. The songs around the campfires. The over abundance of love.

There was nothing like those days.

She could remember each visit beginning much like it had today. With the car pulling up to the cabin after winding through the tall trees, curving back and forth along the unpaved road that led up the side of the mountain - gravel grinding beneath the tires. For as far back as she could remember, there had never been a cloudy day upon their arrival. The sun had always been shining brightly - ready to greet them as her father turned off the engine.

From the moment her sandaled feet hit the gravel, sinking in ever-so-slighty, her mind was racing. She couldn't wait to rush into the cabin and dump out her suitcase. Claiming the bigger drawers as her own. Followed by a quick change into her bathing suit. Even inside the walls of the cabin, the air was hot and muggy, tugging at her skin, pleading her for some sort of relief. But she knew that would have to wait. It was always part of their tradition to unpack the car and sit down at the table in the main room and eat a lunch of cold cuts and chips - bought at the little convenience store at the base of the mountain. Even though they had been doing it for years - she couldn't wait for her mother to stroll out of the kitchen, with the large pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade - looking picturesque in the sunlight coming in through the window - condensation glistening on its exterior. From the moment she saw it, her taste buds began to tingle, mouth watering.

Once the dishes had been stacked in the sink and the leftover food put away, she would bound out of the cabin and down one of the paths that branched away from the property. As she ran, she could feel the perspiration building. Even though she was in the shade of the trees, the humidity continued to collect on her skin - mixing with the sweat that was beginning to flow to the surface. It didn't matter though, for soon she'd be able to escape it all - reaching salvation. She swore she could make it down the path with her eyes closed, having run it multiple times everyday for years. Knowing where every bump was. Every unearthed root. Every jutting rock. All memorized.

When she did finally reach the shore, she didn't even bother to slow down - only making sure the path ahead of her was clear. She'd run down into the crystal clear water, further and further in until she couldn't drive her legs against it any longer - finally diving in. There was nothing like feeling the sweat being stripped away from her skin and hearing the whoosh of the water as it surrounded her ears. She'd continue kicking, gliding against the rocky bottom until her lungs asked for air - at which point she'd break the surface with a triumphant gulp. And there she'd stay. Just floating in the water. Hiding from the sun. Diving beneath the surface whenever its rays focused on the top of her head for too long. She felt at home in the lake. More comfortable then when she was back in the cabin. Embraced by the water. As if she could fly. But off in the distance, the raft taunted her - the older kids lounging in the sun on top of it, giggling and pushing one another off. Since she had been coming here, she had never been able to make it out. Her legs had always become too tired or she became too scared that she could no longer touch the bottom, turning back before she could reach out and grab its ladder.

But this year was different. The years had passed. She had matured. Her swimming had improved. Her lungs were larger. Her muscles stronger. It had been quite some time since she had last been here. Long enough that she was able to meet the man of her dreams. Even start a family. It had only seemed right to share the wonder of this place with her children. Allow them to witness the purity of the outdoors. But more importantly, it was time for her to conquer the raft.

Even though her body had matured, she was caught off guard by how chilly the water was as she first stepped in - surprised at how she had managed to somehow just barrel in when she was younger. As she continued to wade in and the water embraced her hips, she couldn't help but smile. It felt as if she had never left. She felt light - like she could fly again.

There was no way she wasn't making it out there today.

There is no combination of words I could say. But I will still tell you one thing. We're better together.

Song of the Day (Overexposed) 09.20.13

Happy Friday! The weekend is here! Hopefully you all have some fun plans for the next couple days before Monday rears its ugly head again.

Let's dive right into the tunes and not waste any time.

I'm going back to the same band I did a couple weeks ago - Matt and Kim. I only used to know them for their song "Daylight" but after seeing them this past weekend at the block party, I think I've fallen in love. For only being two people, the amount of sound they put out is staggering. During the concert - their energy levels were unparalleled. Bouncing all over the stage, constantly keeping the crowd involved - tossing balloons out to use to blow up and throw into the air during a certain point in a song. But the best part? Between songs, they play other music - from other bands. Since they only consist of drums and a keyboard, when they stopped playing, Matt hit a key to start playing some music while they talked to us. It's a wonderful concept that allowed the music to never stop. Without hesitation, I would recommend seeing them in concert to anyone. And with my over-pouring love above, it only seems right to share another one of their songs with you. Hopefully you enjoy Matt and Kim's "Overexposed."

The Collector

I don't know what happened recently, but I find myself becoming more and more enamored by documentaries. Of all sorts. Wine, drugs, land mines in Columbia. The list goes on and on. And it's all been thanks to Vice (the magazine).

They cover all sorts of topics. Almost nothing is safe. And just by chance, I stumbled upon their youtube channel late last week and the holy mecca was opened. They have hundreds of pieces.  but to be honest, the very first one I watched has been my favorite. I won't go into much detail describing it since I don't want to spoil the experience for you - but it's about a debt collector in the UK who used to work for the mob and decided to clean up his act. It's super interesting watching him go about his daily life, trying to avoid the violence and his old ways. Is he a scary guy? Absolutely. But at the same time, you can see a lot of good in him - that at certain moments you can see his remorse below his tough, callused exterior.

When I was done watching it, I couldn't get over how important morals and principals are to him.

This is significantly longer than anything else I've shown, but I think it is really worth it. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did and it prompts you to go out and check out some of Vice's other pieces.

Word to the wise though - there are a few graphics parts (self imposed injuries) and disturbing stories. But if you can make it through those few moments - I think you'll find yourself completely absorbed.

Autumn Stroll

For as far back as he could remember, the woods had always been a special place for him. He was completely enamored by all that surrounded him. The looming foliage above, the colors of the forest floor during the cooling months of autumn, the smell of decay lingering in the air, or the echoing call of the ducks as they flew somewhere warmer, announcing the approach of winter.

And today had been no different.

He had been wandering the entire day. Shuffling his feet along the paths that weaved behind his house. Kicking up dirt and loose pebbles as he went. Earlier in the day, when the sun had still been hanging high overhead, he darted in and out of the shadows, trying to avoid the channels of lights that had broken through the canopy - staying hidden from the blue sky above. Most of the time he could just walk between them, but sometimes he'd have to jump - running up to the very edge before launching himself over the gap, passing through the light for just a second - avoiding it the best he could. At other points, he forgot about his game and marched down the very center of the path, with a freshly picked fern leave draped over his shoulder - most times larger than himself - tip dragging along the ground. He walked with vibrato - with purpose. Pretending that it wasn't a mere leaf in his hands, but an ancient broad sword, handed down for generations, to fight off the beasts that lived in the woods. But of course, like many of his other games and adventures, this grew old after a while and he'd discard the large stalk of fern along the side of the path, where it'd eventually be embraced once again by mother nature.

As the sun continued to set, he made sure to stop by the river. Adding some stones to the dam he had slowly been building over the years - taking his time to find the exact right pieces and place them carefully along the structure. Sure it would hold strong. When he did find the perfect stone, smooth on both sides and flattened by years of flowing water, he'd wind up and let it go - skipping across the surface until it finally broke through and was swept away by the current. If he had the time, he'd also try to look under some rocks. It was a treat when he'd see a flash of orange as he turned them over. Darting his hand down hoping to catch the culprit - making sure to never hold the lizard for long if he was fast enough - remembering that the oils on his skin could hurt it.

By the time the sun had started to set, the forest had truly begun to come alive. All around him he could hear the scurrying of tiny feet throughout the dry leaves. They were beginning to come out of their dens, looking for food - eyes adjusting to the darkness as his own began to struggle against it. Up ahead along the path he could see the evening fog beginning to roll in - hiding the ground in a thick haze - even reaching up to the sky in some parts, tangling itself among the low-hanging branches. Deep down in his chest he could feel his nerves getting the better of him. He imagined creatures looking out from the dark. Ready to pounce when he wasn't paying attention. Or taking the the wrong path and venturing deeper into the woods. Becoming lost under the night sky - surrounded by a forrest teaming with activity.

But it only ever took him a simple squeeze of his hand to realize it was alright. For he'd feel the rough, callused skin of his father's palm in his own.

And he knew he was safe.

Healthier Options

So I'll admit - I'm still a bit exhausted from the weekend. I did about 18 hours of dancing on Saturday between the Mad Decent Block Party and going out that evening. Yeah, sure, I slept a lot on Sunday, but after two days of work, I'm definitely not caught up on sleep and boy is my body letting me know.

AKA I'm taking a bit of a break. At least it's not because of frisbee this time right?

Instead, I'll do the usual and present you with a video. Now, I may be a bit behind on sharing this, but I only finally saw it today. As you know, I try to post social political things when I can - at least things that I find important or relevant. And I think the next topic is. Ever since I was younger, around high school, I've tried to eat healthier. Organic when I can, less sugars and sodium, nothing "too" processed. But as we all know, a lot of this country doesn't follow my methods - leaving us to be the world's second most obese country, right behind Mexico. I don't think that's something to be proud of and I know we've made steps to try and combat this, but it only seems to be getting worse. And I think the next video hits the issue right on the head (even though it is a bit contradictory).

Yes - I do think Chipotle is healthier. Do I think it is a proper choice of food? Not always. But it certainly is when compared to hormone fed beef suppliers and other fast food restaurants - so I'll let this slide. Their new commercial addresses what I've mentioned above in a rather clever way - through a narrative story. It's creepy, touching, and at some points a bit disturbing - maybe to the level we need to see to snap out of our current food trance. It's been getting a lot of buzz lately - so hopefully this could be the start of something new. Maybe open the public's eyes. Don't get me wrong either - this isn't just a problem for America, but the world in general.

Regardless - it does make me want a burrito.

Break Through

As he stood on shore, watching the waves pound against each other, he couldn't help but feel a rise of nerves in his chest.

He was having second thoughts.

The seas was angry. Beating against itself. Thrashing more violently than he could remember in the last few years. He could barely hear himself think over their crashing. Roaring into the air - a static unlike anything he had ever heard. Like a thousand radios out of tune - clashing against each others' frequencies, screeching up towards the overcast sky. As the mist from the churning waves rose into the air, the strong gusts of wind blowing in from over the water swept it in towards the land. Whipping up the loose sand along the way and plastering it against his body. Stinging his skin wherever it wasn't protected. As if an angry swarm of bees flew by every couple seconds. It didn't take long for little welts to appear and his complexion to become a bright red. He had to hold a hand up to his eyes, straining against the particles - protecting himself from their wrath. In a matter of minutes he had become covered in a fine layer of silt - sticking to his clothing, digging into his hair, even finding its way into his mouth - gritting between his teeth.

When he was younger, he used to come down to the beach to escape the world around him. Losing himself amongst the dunes, letting the sand flow between his toes, the sound of the waves drowning out the thoughts in his head. But when things had gotten really bad, he used to run into the water. Diving beneath the surface, letting the ocean hold him tight. He cherished the feeling of floating. As if he was flying. Invincible from everything else. When he was floating amongst the waves, face to the sky, he'd let his ears drift below the surface - the churning of the water around him echoing into his brain, its white noise washing away anything that didn't need to be there.

But on certain days, residing on the surface just wasn't enough. So he'd take a few deep breaths and dive down, as far as he could. Until he'd hit the bottom or the pressure was too much for his ears to handle. Then he'd just float there. Free from everything. From the world above the waves. The noises. The bright sunlight. He could just close his eyes and drift in the void.

Yet today, he wasn't sure if he wanted to get into the water. Even go near it. They were the types of waves that looked as if they would never let go. Grab him by the ankles and drag him deeper and deeper, holding him down even when his lungs were burning, demanding for fresh air. Churning him along the bottom. He'd have to struggle to break through the surface. To breath again. But as he stood there, looking on, it struck him. Maybe thats what he needed. A fight.

To prove himself.

Awoke with a head full of songs. Every chorus was your name. 

Song of the Day (Girl I Wanna Lay You Down) 09.13.13

Knock another week down.

Halfway through September - you best be thinking about your Halloween costume.

But let's not waste anytime and jump into the tunes. I'm tired. It's been a long day. The sooner I'm done with this, the sooner I get to close my eyes.

So song one was actually on in a coffee shop earlier in the week and I haven't been able to get it out of my head since. Sure, it's catchy. The lyrics are cute, maybe even a little risque, but I love it. And yes, it's another one of those songs where it reminds me of someone and it always will. I know I've played some of his music before, but bear with me - this is Jack Johnson's "Girl I Wanna Lat You Down."




Song number two is totally different. Hell, I can't even remember the last time I had a second song. Anyway - this weekend I'm going to a block party hosted by producer/dj Diplo in downtown LA and I couldn't be more excited. While I'm pumped to be seeing Matt and Kim (from song of the day two weeks ago) - the headliner is Major Lazer - a group that plays electronic dance music mixed with Jamaican dance hall tunes. So, I thought I'd share a little bit of their music with you. It's a tad unique to say the least. I played one for you a while ago, but I figured I'd post another. This is Major Lazer's "Mashup the Dance."




Hope you all have a fantastic weekend!

Somewhere

I just got done working a double. My mind is friend. My eyes hurt. I really don't have much to offer.

But I did watch this video earlier today and immediately thought to share it. Not only a short documentation of a road trip (which you all know I'm a sucker for) but it is absolutely stunning. Everything about it is beautiful. The subtle desaturated hues, use of depth of field, the cutting, the mundane subjects. I also really love the lack of music. Somehow it just sucks you further into the piece. Forcing you to focus on the images more.

It just makes me itch to get back on the road for a while.

SOMEWHERE U.S.A. from Vitùc on Vimeo.

Morning Cleanse

It was the time of the day he cherished the most, but also the time he feared. Just standing there, letting the warm water pour over his shoulders - beating the grogginess out of his muscles, forcing the haze out from between his ears.

Each morning it was always the same routine. His alarm would startle him awake. Ripping him from a dream - pulling him away from a distant place and throwing him back into reality. He'd try his best, but he would never last long, succumbing to the comfort of the bed - the layered blankets and insulated heat - eventually falling back asleep. By the time the secondary alarm went off, his mind was dusted off enough to prompt him to pry himself away from his mattress. From there he'd make his way to the bathroom. Slowly. Dragging his feet across the carpet as he went, trying to will some feeling back into his extremities.

It wasn't until he placed his hand underneath the running water that he began to feel alive again. That first contact with the cold liquid always shook him deep down - regardless of how prepared he was. In less than a second he was covered in goosebumps, the hair along his arms and legs standing on end. Depending on the time of year, he'd either enter right away or let the water run for some time before there was thick layer of steam gathering along the ceiling.

When he did finally decide it was time, he didn't edge in - it was a full commitment. Letting the water wash over his head, across his face, and down the rest of his body. It only took a few minutes for the combination of pressure and heat to snap him back to life. He could feel the tiredness leave his body - stripped away by the water.

Once his mind was ready, it'd begin racing. Not in the sense of nervousness or excitement, but to catch up on the time it had lost while it was dormant - busy conducting dreams. Depending on the morning, it'd focus on happier things. What he had to look forward in the upcoming day. Who he was excited to see. What he wanted to eat for lunch. If there were any major events coming up. But then on certain days, it wound itself a little too tightly and began to think about the negatives. The darker aspects of life. Problems he was having. The people he missed. Issues he was having at work. Most of the time when his mind wandered down that path, it was like an avalanche. One thought began a chain reaction, slowing building throughout the rest of the morning - setting the tone for the rest of the day.

And on this particular morning, even though it had gone down that path, he was determined to stop it. To concentrate and get out of the grey.

So he tried something new - letting his worries wash down the drain, with the dirt from the previous day.

Foreign Morning

As he first opened his eyes, he was confused. As much as he tried - he couldn't remember going to bed the night before. The best he could do was pull out certain moments - throwing on sweatpants, brushing his teeth. Everything else was a blur.

Above him was a window he wasn't familiar with and on the other side of the glass was a swath of sky he had never seen. A radiant blue that stretched out in all directions - scattered with the occasional morning clouds that were in the process of dispersing under the rising sun. Even the birds that stood perched along the low-hanging power lines appeared different to him. How they cooed, the patterns of their feathers, their colorings.

And that wasn't all. As he continued to lay there in bed, the rest of the world began to seep into the room. He could hear the streets outside of the building already bustling with life. The occasional car driving by, hooves clacking against the cobblestones, children laughing and running on their way to school - merchants' voices echoing down the winding alleyways. It didn't take long for his nose to notice the aromatics of the city either. The spices that lingered. Different curries, cinnamon, cumin, paprika. All combining in a cornucopia within his nostrils. Pure bliss.

It wasn't until he heard the mixture of languages that he remembered where he was. He seemed to hear it all, arabic, spanish, french, berber. It was tough trying to distinguish one from another, especially when they were often used interchangeably. As much as his mind tried to pick them apart, it was too much work too fast and he quickly became lulled into a trance by the cadence and rhythm of the voices on the other side of the window.

As he continued to lay there, body slowing warming under the beams of light that were sneaking in through the window, he was startled by the slight groan next to him. He had completely forgotten he was not alone. She laid to his left, tightly wrapped in the hand sewn blankets, pulled just above her eyes, hair tussled about in clumps, falling in all directions over the bed. He couldn't help but smile in her attempt to stay warm in the night, He could only imagine how cold her feet were further down the bed, curled around one another - absolutely endearing.

Yet there was an issue at hand. How to wake her up. Outside the city was calling him, goading him to throw the warm layer of blankets off and venture out into the streets. To explore. Experience. Soak it all in. But the more he laid there, the less and less he wanted to disturb her. He could hear her breathing, deep and slow. That perfect state. Lost somewhere within a dream. So he nuzzled up and wrapped an arm around her ever so gently. Their adventures could wait a little longer.

After all - this moment was close to perfect.

Swing Away

Over the last couple of months, it had all come crashing down.

And he didn't know what to do. So he walked. Out the front door of his home, to the front of his yard, treading over the grass he had taken meticulous care of over the past couple months. When his shoes finally met the concrete of the sidewalk, he turned and continued on his way. Down the street, into the heart of the nieghborhood. As he went, the occasional neighbor would wave out to him, wish him a good morning, but he didn't reciprocate. He barely even noticed. Walking off into the distance.

Work had all but disappeared - a product of the economy. He didn't know where to go and who to turn to. It hadn't taken long for him to begin doubting himself. If he had made the right choices in life. Prepared properly for the real world. At first it had been amazing. Completely exhilarating. Everything was new. So vibrant. He was excited for each new day. But as time wore on, everything that had once shimmered began to fade. It all looked dull. Monotone. Each morning was harder than the last. He'd force himself out of bed and into the office. The time would crawl by. Sometimes seeming to stand still. Seconds dragging on for what felt like hours.

He wanted an escape. He needed an escape. He just didn't know how.

When he finally realized where he was, he was a bit started. He had walked through the heart of the town, down to the old playground where he and his friends used to spend every afternoon after school. Everything still stood proudly, only showing age through chipped paint and rust spots where the metal had been exposed. Remembering those afternoons brought a smile to his face. A feeling he had almost forgotten. As a kid, he had nothing to worry about aside from being home for curfew. He'd laugh with his friends, climbing along the monkey bars, rocketing down the slide, jumping on the cargo net. At that age he seemed invincible. Naive to what the real world would bring.

As he stood there, the loose sand embracing his shoes, he felt drawn toward it all again. Deep down he felt the need to relive those moments. So he walked toward the swings, running his fingertips along the rubber seats - remembering at one time that they had been smooth, now only to have become cracked and worn. But as he sat down and begun to sway, he felt the weight of the world begin to lift off his shoulders. It all didn't seem so bad. The more and more he swung back and forth, the lighter and lighter he felt. And thats when it finally struck him.

He didn't always need to have his feet planted on the ground.

I still see you when I close my eyes

Song of the Day (Steal My Kisses) 09.06.13

Hold on here. Let's pump the breaks a little bit. We're getting a bit out of control.

September already? How did this happen?

Even if I tried to act like it was still the summer months, the weather here in Southern California won't let me. We've officially hit the hottest month(s) and boy, has it come out firing. We've easily been in the triple digits each day and there are no sign of it slowing down. Might as well get used to it for another sixty days, apply that sun screen liberally, and continue on.

On a side note though - I realize this week was void of any stories. That I'd like to apologize for. It's just been a tad hectic and busy and I really haven't had the chance to sit down and write something worth while. I'm sure I could have forced something out, but I doubt the quality would have been acceptable - so look forward to next week. I'll get back to my old ways. I promise.

But onto the music shall we?

Again, I'm not going to dive into either selection this time - but rather let the songs do the talking for me. Each is a good summer tune (yes yes, I know summer is over, but I'm trying to keep the dream alive) that'll hopefully ease you into the weekend.

Song one is by an artist that I think is very under appreciated. He's been around for quite sometime and while he has a solid fan base, he just doesn't seem to have ever broken out into the mainstream. He's got the voice, the lyrics, and the musical ability. It just never panned out to what I think he was capable of. Heck, I even forgot about this song until I was listening to my itunes earlier today and it came on shuffle. And now I can't get it out of my head. This is Ben Harper's "Still My Kisses."




Song number two is a classic. Yes - it may be more of my generation, but I hope that when anyone hears it, they immediately think of the warm summer months. Cruising down the boulevard, towards the beach, windows down, sunglasses on, not a care in the world. Get it? The only sad thing about this song is that it makes me wish that the band was still around, with its original lineup. I would love to have had the chance to see them live. This is Sublime's "What I got."

Weathered Hands

There is something extremely gratifying about working with one's hands. Maybe it's because you actually get to feel the work. Touching it as it grows and morphs into a final product. Maybe it's the pain we feel - sore knuckles, paper cuts, or pinches - somehow justifying the time put in. I can't really put my finger on it, but I'm lucky that I get to work with my hands everyday.

Now - I know what you're thinking. I'm using a computer. All I use are keystrokes and a mouse, but I at least feel like I am actually building what is in front of me. Sure, maybe I'm really just fooling myself, but there is a certain level of pride inside of me. I'm in totally control, building each TV spot or trailer piece by piece - even if it is through a computer interface.

But I will admit I'm no where near the people in the next video. I never through making globes would be such a feat - but I'm amazed at the craftsmanship they produce. Each and every globe is absolutely stunning - better than the last. After watching this, it made me want to go out into the garage and building something. Pull out all my tools and just go to work. Feel some wood beneath my fingertips, strike in some nails, buff out any rough spots, sand down some corners. Hell, I don't care if it is even me just building a bird house. I want to create something again with my bare hands.

I want to get dirty.

Oh and after doing some research - as beautiful as they are, I would never pay what they are asking for one of those globes.

Sisters

Well, consider this a week of videos. I was planning on coming home tonight and writing a story, but by the time I got home from the art exhibit, I was too tired and it was too late to sit down and pump something out.

On a side note - the exhibit was awesome. It focused on the work of photographer Shane McCauley, who shoots a lot of urban environments - usually portraits. Ranging anywhere from Jamaica, Brazil, New York or South Africa. But I'll be honest with you - the man reason I went was one of my favorite music producers/DJs, Diplo, was there. He did a little Q & A and played for a bit before going back into the greenroom to hangout. And luckily, because of Jon Grado (who interned at the studio that was holding the exhibit), I had wristbands that let me go back and speak briefly with him. Super cool, down-to-earth guy from Philadelphia who just loves music and wants to share it with the world and expose everyone to the different styles out there.

What a great way to spend the night.

But I also have to keep you all happy. So I'm presenting you with a music video I have never seen until recently. You all know I'm a huge fan of Michel Gondry and his immense imagination, so when someone I currently work with told me their were a set PA on a music video he shot a couple years ago, I was floored to find out it was one I've never seen. So I went out and watched it and, per usual, was blown away. Not only by the creativity but by the sheer scope of it. Three different stories that somehow all come together at the end. Absolutely nuts. I tried at first to watch it all but found myself becoming lost too quickly, so I had to watch three separate times to soak it all in an appreciate it.

So how about you? Could you handle it all in one viewing? Or did you have to chop it up?

Back to the Desert

What a day back to work. Assembling a feature, learning a new editing system, lacking sleep. Not an easy day, not a fun day. But hey - at least tomorrow is already hump day.

Tonight is going to be brief. I'm tired and I have a few thing to do around the house before bed, so expect a story tomorrow (but I can't promise one - I'm going to be stopping by an art exhibit opening tomorrow and I'm not sure when it ends).

But you all know me - I won't leave you empty handed. So a video it is! And of course, I've spoken about it before, but I absolutely loved my time in Morocco - so when I saw the following piece, I fell in love with it. The video itself is absolutely stunning and should convince all of you of the country's beauty and character. I can easily pick out moments of Chefchaouen, Fez, Tangiers, and many other places I haven't yet been (but hopefully will soon). My heart honestly aches to return. And the more and more I see videos like this, it just makes me want to travel, document my adventures, and make a living off of them. See the world, experience cultures - make a life of it.

Who wants to join me?

In Morocco - 2013 from Vincent Urban on Vimeo.

Labor Day

I hope everyone had a fantastic Labor Day!

Sorry for the lack of a post - but there was a slurry of barbecue, alcohol, and fun today and quite frankly, it kinda got in the way.

We'll return to our usual posts tomorrow.

Cheers!

I just saw a shooting star.

We can wish upon it, but we won't share the wish we made.

But I can't keep no secrets.

I wish that you would always stay.

Song of the Day (Let's Go) 08.30.13

Remember that time I was writing that it was the beginning of August and couldn't believe where the summer had gone? Well holy shit.

Now it's the end of August. God damn.

But we did it! We finished the week. Hopefully it flew by for all of ya'll out there cause it draggedddd for me. But who cares - it's over now. And I couldn't be more excited for the weekend.

Before we dive into the usual music scene, I do want to apologize. Last week was really rough for me. I'll be the first to admit I was struggling. Just barely keeping my head above the surface. Work had been the worst it has even been and I was going through some personal things that were really just bringing me down. And I'll be the first to admit that I was short on my blog - kinda pushing it off to the side. And for any of you that had to deal with me directly, I know I was extremely ornery. So to all of you - I'm sorry. I don't mean to project my issues and mood out onto you - not fair of me.

So on a lighter note, let's dive into the music. I'm not going to be long-winded this week. Just present you with some tunes. Both are by the same group. Extremely upbeat and fun. Hopefully songs that'll carry you into the weekend in a good mood. Oh, and I'm seeing them in two weeks and can't be more excited.

The first song is Matt and Kim's "Let's Go."




And song number two, also by Matt and Kim is, "It's Alright."




For a little bit of fun, you can click here for the official music video. It's insanely quirky and just a great video (don't worry - they are a couple in real life, so filming most of it shouldn't have been too awkward).

Lily

As I've matured, I've found myself becoming more and more interested in documentary films. There is just something about the act of observing that I really enjoy. I could spend and entire day, just sitting and people watching. It fascinates me. Each little nuance, everyone's individual movements, routines, characteristics.

You can learn a lot about someone from just watching. And that's what most good documentaries are. They pull the curtain back and just let you look into another person's world. So when I stumbled across the following short form documentary, I became mesmerized. It goes completely against everything I just said. Sure, as the viewer you watch. It begins with just images of Jamestown. Of trees, houses, abandoned buildings, railroad tracks, but as the piece continues, Lily begins to narrate moments of her life. Telling us stories of her younger years, as she grew up, of trials and tribulations. Yet - the most interesting thing is, we as viewers see very little of her. Just the occasional glimpse. So we begin to form a picture of who she is on our own - unbiased of physical attributes. But as it goes on, we begin to slowly see her. Just little flashes. Legs, some hair, her arm. It peaks your curiosity, leaving you wanting more. And as time goes on, the images, as random as they first seemed, soon begin to carry meaning.

I don't think I've never felt like I've known someone more after four minutes than I did after this piece.

LILY from david m. helman on Vimeo.

And what I think is wonderful about this piece is right at the end. We, the audience, get a reveal. For just a few seconds we're shown Lily's face and it's a salvation. We're finally allowed to put a face to the voice that we've been growing attached too for the last couple minutes. And to be totally honest, she sounds like a wonderful lady. Down to earth, honest, level-headed, with a positive outlook on life. I also realized I was so transfixed on her voice, her stories, and the images of her town, I didn't even notice her arm. I completely glossed over it because it wasn't at all pertinent to who she is as a person.

And let's not forget how beautiful the footage is. Slightly washed out, grainy, and raw. It sets the mood of the piece as much as Lily's narration.

Absolutely powerful stuff.

A Still Frame in Time

He was completely gone. Lost in a moment. So much so that he didn't even notice the perfectly poured latte as it was placed in front of him - not smelling it's rich, thick aroma as it lingered throughout the air. He was oblivious to it, just as he was to everything else around him.

It was a single moment. Just one frame from the movie of his life.

Something he never wanted to let go of. Lying there in bed. Wind howling outside, sweeping down from the mountains and running through the streets and alleyways, causing mischief - blowing over trash bins and knocking down freshly hung linen. It was the kind of winter gusts that could stop him in his tracks. Forcing him to squint if he dared go outside.

He was cozy. Tucked beneath the loosely knit blanket and stiff, over-starched sheets. When he had first entered the room, he was a bit skeptical of what was provided. The building itself was beautiful, with a grande wooden spiral staircase leading him up to the third floor - but the room was simple. Not quaint in any understanding of the word - but comfortable. More along the lines of adequate. It had everything that was needed for a night's stay. A sink, a desk, a wardrobe - two beds. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just the right amount. But when he first entered and saw the blankets that appeared to be handmade at the turn of the century, he was skeptical of how comfortable the night would be.

It had been a long day. Full of driving. Full of walking. And by the end of it, he was tired. The soles of his feet ached, begging for rest. But as the sun fell from the sky and the city began to fall asleep around him, he too crawled underneath all the layers of his bed and all his worries drifted away.

For in that single moment, there was nothing else that could bother him. As he laid there in the dark, he couldn't help but smile. Feeling her body next to his brought the rest of the world to a stand still. She was so warm. Like a tiny heater. Radiating onto his bare skin. Warming him to the core. Making his heart glow. Although he couldn't see her, even with the help of the moonlight that was seeping in through the curtains, he imagined her. Every line. Each curve. Of her face, her cheeks, her eyelashes, the shape of her nose. They would always be there. Engraved in his mind. With each breath he could feel his body relaxing, becoming intoxicated with the smell of her hair. A mixture of flowers and fruits.

Somewhere near his hand, he could feel her twitch, lost in a deep sleep, with the occasional murmur sneaking out from between her lips, echoing out into the confinement of the room. All he wanted to do was close his eyes, drift away and join her, but he found himself fighting off the sleep every time it edged closer. He didn't want it to end. That moment. As simple as it was. One that he could linger on forever.

So when the noise of plate making contact with the table snapped him back to reality, he was disappointed. But when he looked up to see her standing over him, he realized he had nothing to worry about.

They'd have plenty more together.

Pre Flight Jitters

As he sat there, he could feel his mind racing. Running a thousand miles an hour.

The air was stale. Tastless. Still. He could feel it drying out his lips, tempting him to go get a bottle of water. It felt like he was trapped bubble. Left to suffocate.

He couldn't hide from anything. It all lunged at him. Harassed him. Wouldn't leave him alone. From above, the fluorescent lights seemed to beam down. Illuminating the sterile tile and linoleum around him. Accentuating how barren and empty the laid out designs really were. There was no meaning behind them - just a pattern for the masses to follow from one destination to the next. Beneath him, he could feel his wallet and keys digging into his skin. Pressed firmly against stiff padding that they tried to pass off as a seat. From a distance they looked comfortable - strategically placed indentations goading someone to sit down, only to disappoint when their offer was actually taken. No matter how he shifted, it only became more uncomfortable.

As much as he tried, he couldn't ignore the hundreds of people around him. Talking. Laughing. He heard conversations in tongues he couldn't understand, about business, family troubles, pleasure. All the voices were funneling directly into his ears. Colliding inside of his head and rattling around before finding their way out. Even with his earbuds in with music playing, he couldn't escape. It was a melting pot of language.

When he did try to stand up and stretch, his body argued back. Letting him know exactly how displeased it was. His muscles didn't like sitting for so long. His joints ached whenever he put pressure on them. His hair was sore from wearing a hat for so long - bent over for hours at a time. Underneath his clothes he could feel his skin prickling - pleading to be cleaned. Wash away some of the sweat that had accumulated since the journey had began. As he wandered around from his seat, he felt uneasy in the crowd. By the proximity of everyone else.

He was tense. Nervous. Running on fumes. The first leg had been devoid of sleep. Of crying babies and turbulence. Nothing he hadn't encountered before but this time was different. It had been longer. And he was worried. Over the last couple of months he had lost control of the language. Forgotten what to say and how to say it. He fumbled with the words. The pronunciations. He had always been so focused on embracing the culture - not just becoming another tourist. But time had eluded him. Made his memory fuzzy.

But most of all he was nervous. To see her again. Standing there at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him. Radiating out from the rest of the crowd. Ready to whisk him away on another adventure. And for the first time of the trip he felt himself smile.

It wasn't nerves - it was excitement.

Natural Beauty

The sun had done quite a number on his skin. Lashing down for the past few days - no clouds in the sky to disrupt its rays. Even amongst the pockets of shade throughout the trails, it still managed to find its way to his shoulders and back of his neck. Licking away any perspiration that had attempted to come to the surface. At first it had felt good. Warm and embracing. Awakening his tired muscles in the morning, pulling out any tiredness that still lingered in his body. But as the days wore on, it began to take its toll. His skin had begun as a light shade of pink, but quickly turned red. The sun had no regard to the sunscreen he had tried to apply - eager to singe him even more. Each day that progressed, he could feel his body absorbing the heat. Every morning he felt hotter than the last. Each night he wore less clothes to bed, hoping for some relief.

So when the water first touched his feet, it stole his breath. Reaching right up through his legs, squeezing his lungs tight. His body had forgotten what cold had felt like. For a moment he couldn't decide if it hurt or if it felt like salvation. As the goosebumps traveled up his body, spreading out from his shoulders all the way down to his fingertips, he let out a sigh - shivers rocketing through his muscles.

Before he had a moment to second guess himself, he dove forward, plunging beneath the surface. At first he was surprised by the current, scooping him up and carrying him along the bottom of the river - the smooth rocks tickling the bottom of his feet. It took him a moment, but he finally settled himself and stood up - leaning into the flowing water, pushing back. He was amazed at how clear his mind felt. How alive he felt. His skin no longer burned. No longer segregated by lines of clothing and backpack straps. Now his entire body was pink - soothed by the fresh mountain water. The longer he sat there, water cascading over his shoulders, the more at peace he was. The cleaner he felt. It had been days since he had been able to shower. He could feel the dirt washing away - his entire body relishing the moment. For a split second, he remembered being a kid, in the boy scouts, told not to drink water that wasn't filtered. But in this instance, he couldn't resist it. He let a little bit flow into his mouth and down his throat. It was so clean. So refreshing. Unlike anything he had ever tasted. It was pure.

As the sun began to fall below the horizon, slowing disappearing over the rim of the valley, golden rays began to break through the trees along the river - illuminating different swaths of the shoreline. He couldn't believe how absolutely beautiful it all was. But then he saw her and he completely forgot about his surroundings. There she was, standing on the bank of the river, toes just a few feet away from the flowing water, a flannel shirt draped over her shoulders. The sun outlining her figure. She looked absolutely perfect. Everything about her. Hair falling down across her face, blowing ever so slightly in the evening breeze, wrapping around the nape of her neck. How her knees touched - the lines and curves of her legs, the roundness of her cheeks. In the disappearing light her skin looked flawless, standing out against the backdrop of trees. He was lost looking at her. Soaking her in. Absolutely enamored. He loved how even after days out in the wilderness she could look so elegant. So alluring. So honest. And she wasn't even trying.

As he continued to float there, she smiled at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was home.