This blog is as new to me as it is to you. I have no preconceived notions about it; I hardly even know what I'm about to type. What I do know is that I love music and am constantly listening to anything and everything.
Okay, not everything.

It is rare for my music to not be on when I write, it's as much an inspiration as it is a necessity, like air. Often times it affects the mood of a piece so much that I write down the song names, the bands, the artists, and I attach it to my work in any way I can think of. So even though I'm not sure how long I'll keep up with this, I can guarantee you each post will have a band or a song linked to it.

Today it's the Cold War Kids. I've been obsessing over certain music lately so I decided I needed some variation. I scrolled down my iTunes, found a song that I loved in the C's, and just let my library take me from one band to the next.

Mulberry Street, to a Daytrotter Session, to Robbers & Cowards, my mood just evolved with every new song, each note, each lyric.

I knew I had some really awesome websites in my favorites that I had been to once but hadn't had the chance to truly explore. As part of my Sunday tradition, I went to Post Secret to read the new arrivals. They stirred my soul and put me in the mood for some good art. I scrolled my favorites and hit a blog. I'm not really sure how I originally ran across it, probably from facebook stalking. I don't really care because it is beautiful. The most recent post revolved around the experience the writer had from going to a website. From what I read, I knew that I had to go see the website. I went and I knew I had to go tell others about this website. The love, the talent, the purpose, was all too beautiful to not share.

http://www.dayswithmyfather.com/

Psychology has a theory that if you lose someone close to you, you may feel the need to live a fuller life. I'm taking Psychology of Adjustment and two kids in my class spoke up about two very tragic deaths of very close friends of theirs. They both had experienced this feeling, but they said it was momentary, and after a while they stopped trying.

I've been lucky enough to not have to suffer the pain of losing someone very close to me to death. That doesn't mean I can't sympathize how that feeling must feel like. By the time I left high school, I could count the number of dead classmates on two hands. I may not have lost someone close to me, but my friends did, over and over again. Every time I had to watch friends go through the same experience that my other friends had just gone through. Everyone was constantly on their knees.

So by some loop hole, I've become a subject to this theory of psychology. I've lost my sanity pondering why people as intelligent and gifted and good had to lose their lives so early, and yet I, girl of little accomplishment, was chosen to live on. It's molded and wielded itself into my purpose for my life. It's not a short term feeling for me, but a life lesson I grew up on.

I've been so selfish lately. I've been so lonely lately. There's no doubt those two are related.
It's time to give back. It's time to listen, to document, to live.

This one's to Claire, the angel who left us first. It's to loving others, loving life, and the color pink.

Labels: Claire, Cold War Kids