My world is filling up with birds and I can barely keep up with the flocks of them. They're the common thread right now, spilling out of every corner; it's a little weird the things that pop into your field of vision once you have established that there is a pattern to find. Does it do it on it's own, or is it all you?
Yesterday, while driving too close to the barriers of the freeway, I saw hundreds of black birds swarming in the sky like schools of fish, floating and falling and redirecting on a dime. Winter burst in on us out of nowhere yesterday, so the birds were probably scrambling to get to warmer climates. It was breathtaking and like a complete idiot, I thought to myself, "That's me right now; I'm one of those."
Mr Rochester [trying too hard to be romantic and embracing her like the drama king he is]: “Jane, be still; don't struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation."
Jane Eyre: "I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”
-Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
I really am not a bird, but it is so easy to get caught up in the symbolism and metaphors of your art that you start to feel that you are exactly those things, and they become an extension of your hands to express yourself, another language to whisper indecipherable secrets in. Will someone come to unravel them? They might on the 17th.
It's 3am and I can't turn off my brain or my fingers. I've been playing around with the skeleton of this space all night, tweaking bits here and there. Wrote a long journal thing to get my head clear. Oddly, the fingers in tandem write faster than the pen or pencil. Gonna hate myself in the morning. ;)
There are two songs set to be on The First Thing (name pending) that to aid their growth, have their own playlist on my Spotify, and their own secret board on Pinterest. I'd never done that before for any of my music, but then again, I've never been this experimental or serious about my stuff, always assuming no one would ever hear it.
At first they were two different characters, barely recognizable people to be viewed from the outside only, false fronts - "any resemblance to individuals living or dead is purely coincidental." But then I noticed they were in similar key, and that you could weave bits of the one into the other. They became three dimensional, attached to faces in my mind. Two bios became one story, journeying toward another song, which now ends in a way I did not anticipate, closing the circle with a reprise back to the opening track. One is in the key of F, the other in the key of B flat major, and the last song is in E flat major (maybe, if I can get comfortable with it).
This is such a wild thing, and I'm so new to it, sometimes I think I'm way in over my head.
Then my teacher sends me homemade branding baubles while I'm driving home, and I think, "No, I can do this, I am doing this. Someday it will be a tangible thing I can hold in my hands and give to friends and strangers." With Christ at the center, the only reason any of this is a good thing, hopefully it will speak to someone, touch them in a way nothing else can, relate, convict, comfort, confront. I'm excited. I'm exhausted.
You can see the aforementioned jewels in the #birdstuff gallery. To see why it's called that, check out the About page, which has been updated. ;)
And as Happiness by Jonsi & Alex cycles 'round again, I will say goodnight. Maybe.