In the midst of the media storm surrounding Kelly’s new album My December, my prayer for her is that her label will hear her cry. The song Irvine is sending a message. It’s not only for her but all the young people caught up in the entertainment industry; those that want to break into it should listen.
She is feeling the pressure. Thankfully she didn’t shave her head or resort to wild partying. Ms. Clarkson took the high road, she wrote a song, a song that says what the other's actions are portraying—they need to not be pawns in the hands of money-hungry executives. Like those executives they want longevity in their careers but because they are forced into doing things outside of who they are they crumble and fall too early. (The suits need a heart in their wallet.)
Thank goodness Kelly knew where to go in her darkest hour. She vulnerably sings, Why can’t you just take me/I don’t have much to go/Before I fade completely—she is letting them know I’m losing it, I don’t won’t to go the route my peers have taken, I need a breather, I need to do it slowly this time and build up for the next big thing, and there is no doubt there will be a next big thing. She is too talented for that not to happen. Is it too much to ask for them to let her have an easy ride this go round, spill her emotions and then sing the trivial stuff when she’s done with the intimate deep things she’s dealing with. I hope they won’t let her fade away. She is slowly turning her pop-rock into an easy listen for my jazz ear.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
My Rock
This morning as I sat having brunch surveying my tropical living room contemplating why I let my beautiful plants die, my eyes fell on a rock in a little monument like what-not that said "Welcome to My Garden" my smile warmed my heart and beautiful memories came flooding back.
I almost threw that rock away once when I found it in a junk box and couldn't remember where I got it from. Fortunately God is faithful and the memory is now not only in my mind but in my heart. During the era of the pet rocks my dad and I would joke about people buying rocks when you could pick them off the ground for free. Our common line during our various departures became "bring me back a rock", and one day he did just that.
He loved to hunt and fish, upon returning from one of his fishing trips he smiled and handed me a rock (one of those times, like many in our relationship, when we didn't need words). The rock reminds me of the five smooth stones that David picked up when he was challenged by Goliath. I don't think it was by chance that I noticed this rock on this particular morning...Father's Day.
I was trying not to think of what day it was, it has not been an easy day for me since my father’s very tragic death, but God was using an inanimate object to speak to me about this day and my father. It was an oddly shaped smooth rock with cracks that had been smoothed over and blemishes that looked liked they were part of a design—pretty much an imperfect rock, just like us and the world we live in; a world where people selfishly take the lives of other people because their life is not perfect—hence the man that took my father’s life. But now on this Father’s Day rolling that stone around looking at its attributes and pondering the memories was bringing me joy just to hold it in my hand, look at it and remember where it came from...and who I came from.
In that moment I no longer thought about what that day was not, a day that I would not be able to see my father’s big grin when I showed up at church and gave him whatever goodies I had for him. Instead, it was slowly becoming a day I would remember the good things over the bad, how he was my rock and was always there for me, agreeing and confirming that I should or should not do something I wanted to explore or change in my life. Little did he know when he gave me that rock it would become a symbol of my memories of him and how he lived his life.
That rock will now serve as a memory rock that forever reminds me of my dad as not only the pillar of strength for my family but for our extended family and friends of the little community I grew up in.
May God give us all a time to reminisce our most cherished memories.
I almost threw that rock away once when I found it in a junk box and couldn't remember where I got it from. Fortunately God is faithful and the memory is now not only in my mind but in my heart. During the era of the pet rocks my dad and I would joke about people buying rocks when you could pick them off the ground for free. Our common line during our various departures became "bring me back a rock", and one day he did just that.
He loved to hunt and fish, upon returning from one of his fishing trips he smiled and handed me a rock (one of those times, like many in our relationship, when we didn't need words). The rock reminds me of the five smooth stones that David picked up when he was challenged by Goliath. I don't think it was by chance that I noticed this rock on this particular morning...Father's Day.
I was trying not to think of what day it was, it has not been an easy day for me since my father’s very tragic death, but God was using an inanimate object to speak to me about this day and my father. It was an oddly shaped smooth rock with cracks that had been smoothed over and blemishes that looked liked they were part of a design—pretty much an imperfect rock, just like us and the world we live in; a world where people selfishly take the lives of other people because their life is not perfect—hence the man that took my father’s life. But now on this Father’s Day rolling that stone around looking at its attributes and pondering the memories was bringing me joy just to hold it in my hand, look at it and remember where it came from...and who I came from.
In that moment I no longer thought about what that day was not, a day that I would not be able to see my father’s big grin when I showed up at church and gave him whatever goodies I had for him. Instead, it was slowly becoming a day I would remember the good things over the bad, how he was my rock and was always there for me, agreeing and confirming that I should or should not do something I wanted to explore or change in my life. Little did he know when he gave me that rock it would become a symbol of my memories of him and how he lived his life.
That rock will now serve as a memory rock that forever reminds me of my dad as not only the pillar of strength for my family but for our extended family and friends of the little community I grew up in.
May God give us all a time to reminisce our most cherished memories.
When Dreams Die
I stepped out of my professional career of 20+ years to live out my dreams. I wanted to make a living from my hobbies—music, writing and photography.
First the Music—I have always dreamed of being a musician but as Simon Cowell says, “You have to have some modicum of talent”. Whereas I love the saxophone and can play it a little I knew I would not make a living from it. The next best thing is to find a way to work with music and get paid. My friend and I have been working on a business plan that once all the pieces are in place could turn into a very lucrative music business. However, getting those pieces is turning out to be a challenge and the dream seems to be fading.
Photography—I have loved taking pictures since I was a kid and enjoyed the time I spent in the darkroom in my college media arts class. Now the age of digital photography has me hooked and I am loving my computer darkroom. However, breaking into the world of photography is very competitive and without the adequate equipment it is not feasible to advertise and not be able to deliver. This dream also seems to be fading.
The Writing—from the time I checked out my first book from the library and became the character in that book I knew I wanted to write. With every novel I read from that point on I could see my name on the front cover. This too is a very competitive field and breaking into it is very challenging. Is this dream fading as well?
What would make a person leave a successful career and pursue their dreams—desire. But desire is not enough you need drive and ambition. That too is not enough you need resources and opportunities. Without them dreams could fade and die. What do you do when that happens…
Sometimes it’s hard to keep the dream alive
Life pulls and pushes and can drive you insane
Your decisions become hard to explain
When you sink beneath the covers, hold on, stay focused
The dream didn’t die
It takes faith to keep it alive.
First the Music—I have always dreamed of being a musician but as Simon Cowell says, “You have to have some modicum of talent”. Whereas I love the saxophone and can play it a little I knew I would not make a living from it. The next best thing is to find a way to work with music and get paid. My friend and I have been working on a business plan that once all the pieces are in place could turn into a very lucrative music business. However, getting those pieces is turning out to be a challenge and the dream seems to be fading.
Photography—I have loved taking pictures since I was a kid and enjoyed the time I spent in the darkroom in my college media arts class. Now the age of digital photography has me hooked and I am loving my computer darkroom. However, breaking into the world of photography is very competitive and without the adequate equipment it is not feasible to advertise and not be able to deliver. This dream also seems to be fading.
The Writing—from the time I checked out my first book from the library and became the character in that book I knew I wanted to write. With every novel I read from that point on I could see my name on the front cover. This too is a very competitive field and breaking into it is very challenging. Is this dream fading as well?
What would make a person leave a successful career and pursue their dreams—desire. But desire is not enough you need drive and ambition. That too is not enough you need resources and opportunities. Without them dreams could fade and die. What do you do when that happens…
Sometimes it’s hard to keep the dream alive
Life pulls and pushes and can drive you insane
Your decisions become hard to explain
When you sink beneath the covers, hold on, stay focused
The dream didn’t die
It takes faith to keep it alive.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Critics…do they serve a purpose?
What is the purpose of a critic—to tell us what we like? I have often wondered why a critic is a critic. There are several of them out there paid to write their opinion of what is good and not good. They may be experts but come on do they really know what you like. The funny thing is they don’t all agree. If a particular album or movie was good wouldn’t all reviews show that and vice versa.
I have been following the controversy over Kelly Clarkson’s new album My December, the varied reviews are astounding. There are glowing reviews and there are not-so-glowing reviews. So is it a bad album or is it a good album—or is it in the ear of the listener? Are we supposed to choose what we watch and listen to based on what the critics say—or do we have our own opinion and can actually decide what we like?
Movies, music and plays are all relative to the listener and the watcher. I did not like Rent, yet it received glowing reviews. Doesn’t make it a bad movie because I didn’t like, but it also doesn’t make me like it because of the glowing reviews. I liked From Justin to Kelly and it received…well you know it received. Am I supposed to not like it because of the not-so-glowing reviews? Granted there was a lot wrong with the movie but there was a lot of entertainment in it as well and I know what I like to watch and listen to.
Which brings me back to my title question—do critics serve a purpose? It has been said that their reviews can make or break an album, movie or play. But who really reads a critic’s review and decide I’m not going to see that movie, or buy that album or go to that play because of a bad review or vice versa. Do their reviews constitute success? If so, we live in a sad world; people that have to depend on the opinion of other people (experts that is…?) to tell them what’s good or bad.
Are there really people out there that say “I’m glad we have critics, because I can’t think for myself, I don’t know what I like.”
What do you think? Or do you need a critic to tell me that? Afterall, they do have a purpose. Right?
I have been following the controversy over Kelly Clarkson’s new album My December, the varied reviews are astounding. There are glowing reviews and there are not-so-glowing reviews. So is it a bad album or is it a good album—or is it in the ear of the listener? Are we supposed to choose what we watch and listen to based on what the critics say—or do we have our own opinion and can actually decide what we like?
Movies, music and plays are all relative to the listener and the watcher. I did not like Rent, yet it received glowing reviews. Doesn’t make it a bad movie because I didn’t like, but it also doesn’t make me like it because of the glowing reviews. I liked From Justin to Kelly and it received…well you know it received. Am I supposed to not like it because of the not-so-glowing reviews? Granted there was a lot wrong with the movie but there was a lot of entertainment in it as well and I know what I like to watch and listen to.
Which brings me back to my title question—do critics serve a purpose? It has been said that their reviews can make or break an album, movie or play. But who really reads a critic’s review and decide I’m not going to see that movie, or buy that album or go to that play because of a bad review or vice versa. Do their reviews constitute success? If so, we live in a sad world; people that have to depend on the opinion of other people (experts that is…?) to tell them what’s good or bad.
Are there really people out there that say “I’m glad we have critics, because I can’t think for myself, I don’t know what I like.”
What do you think? Or do you need a critic to tell me that? Afterall, they do have a purpose. Right?
Beginnings...
This blog is a symbol of new beginnings in my life. A time of making dreams come true. Stepping out of the normal safe way of doing things and going for the gusto!
Welcome to Charlie's Place. A place where one of my dreams will come true--writing.
Welcome to Charlie's Place. A place where one of my dreams will come true--writing.
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