The sound of Wynonna and Naomi harmonizing on "Love Can Build a Bridge" drifted out the window of the old red brick building. The widespread and persistent drought meant virtually no tomatoes, and certainly no melons to speak of at the corner store, nor any other market in this part of town, but the sweet melody and reassuring lyrics The Judds' voices carried brought comfort in a time wherein it was a scarcity.
I think I see it approaching ever closer from above. It swirls in the current of the chilly January air. The flake lands on my skin and I marvel at the ephemerality of nature's purest mandala for the fleeting moment that it's present there. In one blink it is transformed into the liquid state, unrecognizable to an outside observer, presently indistinguishable from a number of others who have since made their landing. I know though. The first flake of the season becoming one with myself is an irreplicable feeling. The only thing that's come close is that first day your skin touched mine. The electricity that ran through my body is a sensation I've been chasing ever since. I've felt it when you look at me, get real close, touch my soul, but nothing is the same as its introduction. That song released at 6 a.m. on that June morning a couple years back woke up my soul, opened my eyes, showed me what to strive for. I want to make others feel what he made me feel. That connection the lyrics made with my life combined with the revelation and the surprise is the high I crave when I close my eyes. When I feel the snowflake, see its shape, marvel at its magic, I think of you and that song and wish it never ended.
Hearing the Call
I was a junior in college and Eric Church embarked on his groundbreaking Holdin' My Own Tour. I wanted more than anything to see him perform live. These shows were not just typical concert affairs, they were something new altogether. He was, as his tour was so aptly named (after one of his songs), holding his own tour. No openers, just approximately three hours, split into two sets, of him and his band, The ECB, playing as many songs from his catalog, from the hits to the deep cuts, as they could fit, along with some covers. Each night, the setlist changed. And as I found out when I began my journey of following the tour online, jaw dropped, was opening the show solo, just him and acoustic guitar onstage. As the instrumental interlude of the song began and he deliberately moved to the main portion of the stage (because the stage was an original design that included a pit within it - notable in and of itself), it then broke into the rock guitar solo on the electric guitars and the stage lit up as a local high school choir sang the backup vocals. It was epic. Each night of the tour, in each new city, a new choir made their debut.
Finding My Voice
"A Night Under the Stars: The start of something beautiful" was my first piece published on Vocal. When I decided to take a risk and enter a story in the Date Night challenge a couple years ago, I began the journey to discovering who I am as a writer and what I can create when given a prompt. At that point, this process was entirely new to me. I have always been a writer, but this was different. At that point, I was just developing a style of my own.
Before reading The Midnight Library as part of Brandy Clark's book club, I spent quite a bit of time thinking about regret. Both the concept of regrets and the specific instances themselves plagued my mind regularly. Like I'm sure many of us do, as time travel is such a prevalent ideal in our culture, I sometimes think about the top moments or actions I would go back and change if given the chance. The funny thing people don't realize is that we are constantly time traveling, and maybe that's the problem. We're always rapidly moving forward, into the future, whether we like it or not, while simultaneously traveling to the past in our minds while visiting memories, sometimes we even become stuck there. Either direction one goes, too far in the future or the past, the outcome is essentially the same: time spent not being present in the current moment. In other words: time we'll never get back spent not living our lives.
The Very Hungry Caterpillar
Touting the message that eating healthy makes us feel good, grow and become better, fully-realized versions of ourselves, while consuming junk food leaves us feeling lousy, The Very Hungry Caterpillar would be nothing but noble if not for its message also buying into the toxic culture of fat-shaming. So close.
The Origin of Dreams
Did you ever wonder where dreams come from? Once, long ago, there was a connection made. A metaphorical bridge built that links our world with one in which the metaphysical laws are so far outside our realm of understanding that we would only think them to be possible in our wildest dreams. This is no coincidence for in our unique altered state of consciousness which we enter when we shut our eyes at night is the precise and nearly the only moment - apart from daydreaming, when our eyes may be open - when we visit, if only temporarily, this other reality.
- Runner-Up in Micro Heist Challenge
The ArtistRunner-Up in Micro Heist Challenge
Dublin wasn't the first place Leroy saw himself, but it's where he'd ended up. He may be in a new city, but no need to completely reinvent himself. No, he intended to remain the conman he'd always fancied himself to be. That's precisely why when the opportunity arose, he felt the compulsion to go for it.