first of all:
Children sleeping, snow is softly falling
Dreams are calling like bells in the distance
We were dreamers not so long ago
But one by one we all had to grow up
When it seems the magic's slipped away
We find it all again on Christmas day
Believe in what your heart is saying
Hear the melody that's playing
There's no time to waste
There's so much to celebrate
Believe in what you feel inside
And give your dreams the wings to fly
You have everything you need
If you just believe.
~Josh Groban "Believe" from the major motion picture, "The Polar Express"
I find that in the Christmas "season" (and you'll find out about the quotations later) I do find a warmpth and a bright, cheeriness that I quite enjoy. There's something about the lights glimmering on a Christmas tree, or the way the house smells like those potpouri pine cones that just warms a person from the inside. But I also find that there's a certain flaw in our general Christmas celebrations.
I'm all for getting decked out for Christmas. I love lights and decorations and trees and ornaments and all those inflatable figurines that you put in you lawn...
ok...maybe not those...but, the reality is that retail has gotten the best of all of us. How many times have I stopped, staring at some Christmas spectical and actually thought, Praise be to God...here, I fall prostrate to the Lamb who was born to be slain...???
Only like...once, honestly.
All this Christmas malarky has completly taken a 180 to a holiday I don't even recognize anymore. I don't even care if you celebrate the Santa Christmas or not, look around! Do you see this holiday? I see people stooped in tradition, so focused on shopping and meals and lights and decorations and what they have to do to get ready, that they miss the entire (excuse the cliche) reason for the "season".
This "season" should be a year-round celebration. Sure, it's wonderful to set aside a day or two to really celebrate the birth of our savior...but shouldn't we be celebrating--no rejoicing that fact every waking second of every day?
I look at myself and I'm pretty much ashamed. My spiritual dry-spell has gone on for far too long. I don't get the same chills when I hear music at church anymore. I find myself fighting fits of drousiness and boredom...I'm not paying attention to what's right in front of me. I'm such a stupid, lukewarm hotdog...
But that doesn't mean I don't still keep these wheels turning.
This Christmas, take a minute...just one or two to really ponder this fact:
Christ came in this form--not a cute, innocent baby wrapped in beautiful white cloths and smiling, but one of a cold, shivering infant, huddling to his virgin mother...a lamb. He came as a lamb to be slain. He was the ultimate sacrifice that washed every blimish from our lives before we even existed. He came, willingly as a baby...not to grow and live and teach, but to die. He came to die.
When I look in the lights of the tree this Christmas...I think of the stars that night...and what might have been going through the mind of God. His son, himelf, was being born and would be slain just a few short years later...for me.
Well, the transition from God to snogging is probably not going to be easy, so let's do it the hard way, with all caps and exlimation points!!!!
SNOGGING!!
If you don't already know, snogging is usually a British word used for kissing or making out. Recently, a lot of my friends have been writing blogs about sex and relationships. I thought I'd give the subject a whirl. (Just expressing my feelings on the matter)
Most of you know that I have horrible luck with relationships. No, I think it's better phrased that I SUCK at relationships. (make a pun out of that in your comments and I'll hunt you down) I agree with most people when they say high school is no place to find your soulmate. Like that's seriously gonna happen in the halls of Lafayette High School. Sure. No. It's most likely not.
But those of you out there that are in a relationship and are getting into more and more serious stuff...just know that this will effect your life later. I kid you not, my friends, although they're mostly insignificant, relationships taken to a serious to maybe a physical level will change you. I'm not willing to waste the heartache, or the precious time right now. I'm not interested in this deep, serious stuff.
I know you're sitting there going, "Well you're such a hypocrite, Jack, you're always talking about guys and wanting a date for prom and all that."
This is a true statement.
I do desire to have a boyfriend. But the kind of boyfriend I'm looking for doesn't exist for me right now. I'm only interested in the slowed-up, gentle, casual relationships that call for the occasional need for a hand to hold, a shoulder to sigh into and a dance partner.
Girls, don't degrade yourself and give into all this flirty, "Let's hook up" crap. You're better than that. You're worth more than that. God made you for someone and I'm sure that someone would treat you better.
Guys, don't think you have to be something amazing. You don't need to exert the energy or the valuable time. Work on making yourself better for that one girl. So what if you've hooked up with fifteen girls in the past two weeks? That has no value in the eyes of a girl. She's not thinking about now. When you and her are being intimate, you're both screwing everything up. She's thinking about your futures, while you're thinking about the moment.
(And that doesn't mean all guys think like that, I understand that there are actual exceptions)
So, I guess my point is...I'd rather wait and honor the promise ring on my finger, honor who I am, honor my God than to have "experience".
Speaking of experience. I know you'll all enjoy the story of how my dad can say he's experienced strangling an ostrich.
(that transition was nice, wasn't it?)
Okay.
Step back a few years with me.
It's winter time; Southern Lights is open at the horse park. The Rhorer family is taking their annual trip to see the lights, vendors, museam, model trains and petting zoo. This particular year, the zoo features ostriches and leemurs. The leemurs have no point to this story. I just added them in to see if anyone would tell me whether or not I spelled leemur correctly.
My dad is wearing a Kentucky jacket with pull strings on the sides of the hood. These strings have small shiny clips that keep them at the perfect postition for a person's hood to fit.
Now, it's a commonly known fact that ostriches have a liking for shiny things. They're kleptomaniacs, in other words. So, a particularly friendly ostrich decides to have a bite of my dad's cone full of animal feed....and eventually,
a bite out of my dad's jacket.
My father, being the brilliant man of strategy that he is, decides to strangle the ostrich in order to get back a clip that it had just swallowed.
Yes, this is my family.
So there is my father, in the middle of a petting zoo, face scrunched in anger, strangling an ostrich for some coat clips.
Needless to say...the ostrich wasn't there the next year.
So, that was my random story for the day. Please excuse the excessive rantings and random jumps from one point to another. It's 1:40 am and I'm tired. I hope you enjoyed hearing about my father's fights with beast. We're definatly not members of PETA
....
Goodnight, and good luck.
yes, I do realize that I forgot to mention Pecans...
ah, but now I have.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Shallow Breaths (edited)
just a few fix-er up-ers on this one:
Calming breaths soothed our silence.
Starlight illumenated the edges of your smile
and your calloused fingers caressed
the velvet curves of spotted night skies.
Your palms were raised into the black,
stretching out to catch the moon
for me.
And simple sighs were all I could return.
Morning light peered from Earth’s upturned grin;
her horizon gave birth to fresh colors.
The shine in your eyes painted the morning,
you could stop time to show me the dewdrops,
to count the gentle morning laughsthat brought in each new day
for me.
And simple sighs were all I could return.
Moon-touched fingers found a home wrapped in mine,
and gazes that coat the sunrise searched me.
How could hands and eyes that caress the heavens,
that paint every morning with such skilled ease
find the space in their spirits,
for me?
Calming breaths soothed our silence.
Starlight illumenated the edges of your smile
and your calloused fingers caressed
the velvet curves of spotted night skies.
Your palms were raised into the black,
stretching out to catch the moon
for me.
And simple sighs were all I could return.
Morning light peered from Earth’s upturned grin;
her horizon gave birth to fresh colors.
The shine in your eyes painted the morning,
you could stop time to show me the dewdrops,
to count the gentle morning laughsthat brought in each new day
for me.
And simple sighs were all I could return.
Moon-touched fingers found a home wrapped in mine,
and gazes that coat the sunrise searched me.
How could hands and eyes that caress the heavens,
that paint every morning with such skilled ease
find the space in their spirits,
for me?
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Protective Bubble
I'm fairly certain, as I waste valuable "get ready" time this morning,
that Fayette County public schools have a protective weather bubble
over them. Every county in the state could be out for bad weather and
who's still in school?
Us.
I mean I really shouldn't be complaining since we were out yesterday
and it is the last week before break....
that Fayette County public schools have a protective weather bubble
over them. Every county in the state could be out for bad weather and
who's still in school?
Us.
I mean I really shouldn't be complaining since we were out yesterday
and it is the last week before break....
But...
I make it my life's goal to destroy that bubble...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
I'm Afraid Somone Else Will Hear Me (written originally in French)
C'est fini,
la reste de nous.
Nous avons vu
aurore aprés aurore
et le lumière ne jamais
attrapé dans tes yeux.
J'était là
mais où était toi?
Où était toi?
la reste de nous.
Nous avons vu
aurore aprés aurore
et le lumière ne jamais
attrapé dans tes yeux.
J'était là
mais où était toi?
Où était toi?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Finding Reality--Finding Ground to Stand On
I'm back in his car again, playing with the leather seats.
"Where to?"
It's been so long since I've heard his melody. Since my ears have been pleasured with that sound.
"Anywhere. Take me anywhere as long as you're there."
"I can do that." My heart jumps at the sincerety of those four words strung together. They are like the promise of the sunrise in the morning, the soft wind against spring flowers. I trace the hard lines of the roadmap in my arms, leading on from here to forever.
I watch his skin glisten in the light of August. I envy the wind from the open window running across his smile, his furrowed brow. This will be the last day we have together, the last smile I see before he is gone. Somewhere in the pit of my stomach, I know it. I try to push it away, but it jumps into my throat and I let out a moan of remorse.
“What is it?” His free hand flies to mine, picking it up from my lap and squeezing it. My heart skipps in my chest like a stone over water.
I choke away the nausia forming inside and look away from him. I couldn’t let him see I was blushing.
I stiffle the fear in my voice. “I just don’t want to leave.”
His face is unreadable. His mouth is in a thin line. I can’t comprehend the color of his cheeks, his flawless complexion. “Who said you were leaving? Who said either of us were?”
I search for the right words in my head. “It’s just that…I have this feeling that we won’t be together for much longer.” The words are almost a whisper.
He stares at me, taking only a few sideways glances at the road. His eyes are intense, searching my face for any signs of leaving.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know.” I fiddle with my seatbelt. I release his hand gazing out the window again.
“I’ll never leave you.” His words sink deep into my chest. I stare out of the window intently.
We drive so long in silence that I realize I can’t remember the lines of his face, the length of his fingers or the blue in his eyes. My mind is racing. I catch him in the corner of my eye. He’s singing with the radio and I reach out to feel the muscles in his throat.
But before my fingers can reach the silky, tan stone, he disappears.
This can’t be real. Am I am dreaming?!
He’s back.
We're drifting on an endless highway. A mixture of fabricated and tangible memory clouds my head. I stare at his profile and he never notices. I'm alone in the last part of him I can remember. Each car on the road is his. Each face turns to reveal those marble blue eyes. I truly am dreaming. Why did he leave me here? How can my dreams be so cruel?
"Where to?"
It's been so long since I've heard his melody. Since my ears have been pleasured with that sound.
"Anywhere. Take me anywhere as long as you're there."
"I can do that." My heart jumps at the sincerety of those four words strung together. They are like the promise of the sunrise in the morning, the soft wind against spring flowers. I trace the hard lines of the roadmap in my arms, leading on from here to forever.
I watch his skin glisten in the light of August. I envy the wind from the open window running across his smile, his furrowed brow. This will be the last day we have together, the last smile I see before he is gone. Somewhere in the pit of my stomach, I know it. I try to push it away, but it jumps into my throat and I let out a moan of remorse.
“What is it?” His free hand flies to mine, picking it up from my lap and squeezing it. My heart skipps in my chest like a stone over water.
I choke away the nausia forming inside and look away from him. I couldn’t let him see I was blushing.
I stiffle the fear in my voice. “I just don’t want to leave.”
His face is unreadable. His mouth is in a thin line. I can’t comprehend the color of his cheeks, his flawless complexion. “Who said you were leaving? Who said either of us were?”
I search for the right words in my head. “It’s just that…I have this feeling that we won’t be together for much longer.” The words are almost a whisper.
He stares at me, taking only a few sideways glances at the road. His eyes are intense, searching my face for any signs of leaving.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know.” I fiddle with my seatbelt. I release his hand gazing out the window again.
“I’ll never leave you.” His words sink deep into my chest. I stare out of the window intently.
We drive so long in silence that I realize I can’t remember the lines of his face, the length of his fingers or the blue in his eyes. My mind is racing. I catch him in the corner of my eye. He’s singing with the radio and I reach out to feel the muscles in his throat.
But before my fingers can reach the silky, tan stone, he disappears.
This can’t be real. Am I am dreaming?!
He’s back.
We're drifting on an endless highway. A mixture of fabricated and tangible memory clouds my head. I stare at his profile and he never notices. I'm alone in the last part of him I can remember. Each car on the road is his. Each face turns to reveal those marble blue eyes. I truly am dreaming. Why did he leave me here? How can my dreams be so cruel?
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Searching
It's become apparent to me in the past week or two how much I've grown over the past year.
I've been reading a lot of books about life.
I've been fed a lot about scripture and God and Christ.
I've realized that the love coming from God and sent to me is completely irrational and is completely true.
But that' s besides my point.
"When my time comes,
forget the wrong that I've done,
help me leave behind some reasons
to be missed."
I've been thinking a lot about my impact here. What kind of legacy am I leaving? What impact do I have on people. Where is my focus...?
I can only hope that one day these questions will be answered for me and I don't have to be so insecure. (Although, I'm far more confident now than I was a few months ago. It amazes me how one event can change a person's entire life.)
Well, now I'm hinting and being secretive and that's not what I want to do.
I am an open book and I am honest. I'll be blunt and answer your questions. No beating around the bush for me anymore.
I've come to realize that I'm no longer the writer I used to be. I'm not as furious at the world...only upset that I havn't made a change yet. I'm no longer angry at people, but the reasons they irritate me. I've come to really irritate myself with the way I act.
Who I am is NOT who I want to be.
I'm way off from my origional point...which was how much I've changed, how life is chaning, how I'm making new decisions.
Realizing that this life is not about me...is the scariest thing I've ever realized. Suddenly I'm looking at colleges, thinking about who I'm leaving behind, broken relationships I've never mended and people I hurt that I never apologized to. I'm downright scared.
But, somehow it's thrilling.
I'm getting a car, I'm becoming an adult. I'm working to make my own money; I'm paying my way to Europe next summer....
And again...
I'm done slacking; I've got work to do; I'm leaving friends behind, letting go of hopes, building new dreams, and wandering in the black.
(I can only be thankful that God's got me on this one, but going into the world is a completely new thing for me.)
I've found, as I've grown, I've become far less incoherent (although the preceding paragraphs suggest otherwise) and I'm actually focused on how I really feel about people...not just guys but people in general.
I've realized that writing may not be a career for me...if the cards play like that. My good friend Collin, when asked to give me some inspiration for a poem, said: "that's your problem... if you have no IDEA to write about, then i recommend finding something else to do unfortunately. your subject is looking for you right now, so no point in looking for it."
Although I was slightly surprised by his tone, he was completely right and since I've just let the subjects come to me.
Not many poems have come out, but the ones that did were fairly good.
Grrr...what else to talk about?
Well, I've decided to look at more colleges than just Hanover, but something is holding me back on scholarships. I'm a little timid in that area.
College seems so close, but when I look out, it seems so far too. I still want to do so many things before then.
I got published, so that's something I'll cross off the list.
Here's the full list of what to do before I leave for college:
1. Make a YouTube series (vlogs or comedy or music videos or whatever)
2. Meet someone great and take it SLOW.
3. Sneak out and don't get caught.
4. Seek forgiveness
5. Find my style.
6. Become MC for Senior Class Live
7. Rekindle old flames.
8. Go to Paris (coming soon!!! summer '09)
9. Pass AP FRENCH
10. Get a scholarship
11. Learn to dance
12. Go to Prom (with someone special)
13. Lead at least one person to Christ
14. Write a song
15. Go on a road trip
16. Get a Cannon camera and start taking pictures
17. Become a piano MASTAH
18. Act my age
19. Become a 4 year old again :D
20. Find contentment
I've been reading a lot of books about life.
I've been fed a lot about scripture and God and Christ.
I've realized that the love coming from God and sent to me is completely irrational and is completely true.
But that' s besides my point.
"When my time comes,
forget the wrong that I've done,
help me leave behind some reasons
to be missed."
I've been thinking a lot about my impact here. What kind of legacy am I leaving? What impact do I have on people. Where is my focus...?
I can only hope that one day these questions will be answered for me and I don't have to be so insecure. (Although, I'm far more confident now than I was a few months ago. It amazes me how one event can change a person's entire life.)
Well, now I'm hinting and being secretive and that's not what I want to do.
I am an open book and I am honest. I'll be blunt and answer your questions. No beating around the bush for me anymore.
I've come to realize that I'm no longer the writer I used to be. I'm not as furious at the world...only upset that I havn't made a change yet. I'm no longer angry at people, but the reasons they irritate me. I've come to really irritate myself with the way I act.
Who I am is NOT who I want to be.
I'm way off from my origional point...which was how much I've changed, how life is chaning, how I'm making new decisions.
Realizing that this life is not about me...is the scariest thing I've ever realized. Suddenly I'm looking at colleges, thinking about who I'm leaving behind, broken relationships I've never mended and people I hurt that I never apologized to. I'm downright scared.
But, somehow it's thrilling.
I'm getting a car, I'm becoming an adult. I'm working to make my own money; I'm paying my way to Europe next summer....
And again...
I'm done slacking; I've got work to do; I'm leaving friends behind, letting go of hopes, building new dreams, and wandering in the black.
(I can only be thankful that God's got me on this one, but going into the world is a completely new thing for me.)
I've found, as I've grown, I've become far less incoherent (although the preceding paragraphs suggest otherwise) and I'm actually focused on how I really feel about people...not just guys but people in general.
I've realized that writing may not be a career for me...if the cards play like that. My good friend Collin, when asked to give me some inspiration for a poem, said: "that's your problem... if you have no IDEA to write about, then i recommend finding something else to do unfortunately. your subject is looking for you right now, so no point in looking for it."
Although I was slightly surprised by his tone, he was completely right and since I've just let the subjects come to me.
Not many poems have come out, but the ones that did were fairly good.
Grrr...what else to talk about?
Well, I've decided to look at more colleges than just Hanover, but something is holding me back on scholarships. I'm a little timid in that area.
College seems so close, but when I look out, it seems so far too. I still want to do so many things before then.
I got published, so that's something I'll cross off the list.
Here's the full list of what to do before I leave for college:
1. Make a YouTube series (vlogs or comedy or music videos or whatever)
2. Meet someone great and take it SLOW.
3. Sneak out and don't get caught.
4. Seek forgiveness
5. Find my style.
6. Become MC for Senior Class Live
7. Rekindle old flames.
8. Go to Paris (coming soon!!! summer '09)
9. Pass AP FRENCH
10. Get a scholarship
11. Learn to dance
12. Go to Prom (with someone special)
13. Lead at least one person to Christ
14. Write a song
15. Go on a road trip
16. Get a Cannon camera and start taking pictures
17. Become a piano MASTAH
18. Act my age
19. Become a 4 year old again :D
20. Find contentment
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Dreams are Elephants
I am not dreaming.
This road is real
and I am real
and youare real.
You lean so smooth against
the air around youbut your hands are shaking
and you look away.
I am not dreaming.
The breeze is ruffling your hair
the way I used to do.
Your jaw is tight and I
can hear crunching gravel.
This road is real and I am
real and you
are real
and you are coming for me.
I am not dreaming.
We are here;
you are back with me.
The sun is just another star,
we're speckled in golden dust.
Fallen leaves,
October leaves,
these skeletons rattling
at your feet --they are real.
And you see me.
Those-those are real,
glass marbles,
the prize pick of a child's game,
circles drawn in bronze skin,
pools of blue marble
seeing me.
I am not dreaming.
Dreams are never this sweet.
Humid summer carries
caramel voices to me.
Your sounds, your laughs, your sighs
and I am not dreaming.
Dreams couldn't be this cruel.
Dreams couldn't torture me with
those eyes.
We are in panhandle desert.
You are real,
I am real,
the wind that whips our clothes
about our skinis real.
I taste dirt in my teeth
and the reverberations of a heart
who hasn't beat in so long.
I am not dreaming.
My hands are shaking too.
Look, mine are shaking too.
Look, look.
These hands ate real, feel them!
I am not dreaming!
I am staring.
I am hardly breathing.
I am clinging to you.
I will not wake this time.
God, leave me here
this time.
God, please leave me be
here.
This road is real
and I am real
and youare real.
You lean so smooth against
the air around youbut your hands are shaking
and you look away.
I am not dreaming.
The breeze is ruffling your hair
the way I used to do.
Your jaw is tight and I
can hear crunching gravel.
This road is real and I am
real and you
are real
and you are coming for me.
I am not dreaming.
We are here;
you are back with me.
The sun is just another star,
we're speckled in golden dust.
Fallen leaves,
October leaves,
these skeletons rattling
at your feet --they are real.
And you see me.
Those-those are real,
glass marbles,
the prize pick of a child's game,
circles drawn in bronze skin,
pools of blue marble
seeing me.
I am not dreaming.
Dreams are never this sweet.
Humid summer carries
caramel voices to me.
Your sounds, your laughs, your sighs
and I am not dreaming.
Dreams couldn't be this cruel.
Dreams couldn't torture me with
those eyes.
We are in panhandle desert.
You are real,
I am real,
the wind that whips our clothes
about our skinis real.
I taste dirt in my teeth
and the reverberations of a heart
who hasn't beat in so long.
I am not dreaming.
My hands are shaking too.
Look, mine are shaking too.
Look, look.
These hands ate real, feel them!
I am not dreaming!
I am staring.
I am hardly breathing.
I am clinging to you.
I will not wake this time.
God, leave me here
this time.
God, please leave me be
here.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Grobanites RAVE
No one can sit down to write a review on anything by Josh Groban and not walk away a fan. Awake Live is truly an awakening. It’s a complete masterpiece to be kept and treasured forever. Josh never ceases to impress and raise the bar from previous performances; Awake Live is no exception.
Opening with You Are Loved (Don't Give Up), a favorite of Groban fans since the release of Josh's latest album Awake, this DVD pulses energy all the way from the audience behind the TV screen into your living room. Josh gives his all from start to finish with only a three minute break in the middle.
Through the entire show, weather you were in Salt Lake City or watching from your sofa, extensive and intricate lighting and an intimate stage design brought Hamish Hamilton's creation to a whole new level. This brilliant director of such artists as U2, The Rolling Stones, and The Corrs brought Groban's concert to life with excitement, energy and radiance. Josh Groban: Awake Live is a delight.
Lucia Micarelli and Vanessa Freebaim-Smith bring a new twist to Kashmir and we are also introduced to several new band members: Mark Stephens, Peter Adams and Andre Manga. Angelique Kidjo graces the stage with her incredible talent and, mixed with Josh’s magical voice, they bring together an all new song for the Grobanites titled: Pearls. Pearls was a fantastic collaboration and a perfect addiction to the Groban collection. Of course our old friends Tim, Tariqh and Craig are as stunning as ever. The Salt Lake City orchestra does a fantastic job and all these musicians come together with Josh to create one of the most amazing DVD's to date.
Along with the incredible concert is bonus footage bringing you behind the scenes of Josh’s DVD and tour experiences. For the first time, Grobanites get a glimpse into the life of Josh, his band, and his ADORABLE dog, Sweeny. Josh recalls the lonely aspects of being a solo artist, but also the rewards it has brought to him. Suddenly, (if you were like me and watched the bonus footage before the concert) we understand the longing in Josh’s eyes as he turns to the crowd and sings, “So keep me awake to memorize you. Give us more time to feel this way…” As any stage performer knows, the stage is the safe-place. The stage is home. From Awake Live we can tell that Josh Groban belongs on the stage and we hope that he remains there for many, many days to come.
Opening with You Are Loved (Don't Give Up), a favorite of Groban fans since the release of Josh's latest album Awake, this DVD pulses energy all the way from the audience behind the TV screen into your living room. Josh gives his all from start to finish with only a three minute break in the middle.
Through the entire show, weather you were in Salt Lake City or watching from your sofa, extensive and intricate lighting and an intimate stage design brought Hamish Hamilton's creation to a whole new level. This brilliant director of such artists as U2, The Rolling Stones, and The Corrs brought Groban's concert to life with excitement, energy and radiance. Josh Groban: Awake Live is a delight.
Lucia Micarelli and Vanessa Freebaim-Smith bring a new twist to Kashmir and we are also introduced to several new band members: Mark Stephens, Peter Adams and Andre Manga. Angelique Kidjo graces the stage with her incredible talent and, mixed with Josh’s magical voice, they bring together an all new song for the Grobanites titled: Pearls. Pearls was a fantastic collaboration and a perfect addiction to the Groban collection. Of course our old friends Tim, Tariqh and Craig are as stunning as ever. The Salt Lake City orchestra does a fantastic job and all these musicians come together with Josh to create one of the most amazing DVD's to date.
Along with the incredible concert is bonus footage bringing you behind the scenes of Josh’s DVD and tour experiences. For the first time, Grobanites get a glimpse into the life of Josh, his band, and his ADORABLE dog, Sweeny. Josh recalls the lonely aspects of being a solo artist, but also the rewards it has brought to him. Suddenly, (if you were like me and watched the bonus footage before the concert) we understand the longing in Josh’s eyes as he turns to the crowd and sings, “So keep me awake to memorize you. Give us more time to feel this way…” As any stage performer knows, the stage is the safe-place. The stage is home. From Awake Live we can tell that Josh Groban belongs on the stage and we hope that he remains there for many, many days to come.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Calming breaths soothed our silence.
Starlight illumenated the edges of your smile
and your calloused fingers caressed
the velvet curves of spotted night skies.
Your palms were raised into the black,
stretching out to catch the moonfor me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Morning light peered from Earth’s upturned grin;
her horizon gave birth to fresh colors.
The shine in your eyes painted the morning,
you could stop time to show me the dewdrops,
to count the gentle morning laughs
that brought in each new day
for me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Moon-touched fingers find a home wrapped in mine,
and gazes that coat the sunrise search me.
How could hands and eyes that caress the heavens,
that make art of every morning
find the space in their spirits,for me?
when all I have is sighs of fresh airin return...
Starlight illumenated the edges of your smile
and your calloused fingers caressed
the velvet curves of spotted night skies.
Your palms were raised into the black,
stretching out to catch the moonfor me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Morning light peered from Earth’s upturned grin;
her horizon gave birth to fresh colors.
The shine in your eyes painted the morning,
you could stop time to show me the dewdrops,
to count the gentle morning laughs
that brought in each new day
for me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Moon-touched fingers find a home wrapped in mine,
and gazes that coat the sunrise search me.
How could hands and eyes that caress the heavens,
that make art of every morning
find the space in their spirits,for me?
when all I have is sighs of fresh airin return...
Flight
A hundred galaxies are watching me tonight,
my feet are slipping in and out of rhythm,
barely scraping above the asphalt,
tripping with every palpitation,
have to hold on
have to keep on
aching, my fingers press forward,
into the cloud
into the fogged night.
A hearts's possibilities await
just beyond the curtain of black skies.
Stars keep watching
she'll never make it
she'll never be....
Their eyes are on me
and I am climbing
falling from everything below
tumbling upward
into black.
loss of light,
loss of concious clarity
black velvet fingers
catch me by the hand.
Child, why did you leave your feet?
I had to feel just once
what it must be to fly.
my feet are slipping in and out of rhythm,
barely scraping above the asphalt,
tripping with every palpitation,
have to hold on
have to keep on
aching, my fingers press forward,
into the cloud
into the fogged night.
A hearts's possibilities await
just beyond the curtain of black skies.
Stars keep watching
she'll never make it
she'll never be....
Their eyes are on me
and I am climbing
falling from everything below
tumbling upward
into black.
loss of light,
loss of concious clarity
black velvet fingers
catch me by the hand.
Child, why did you leave your feet?
I had to feel just once
what it must be to fly.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Fresh Air (Another Helium Piece)
Calming breaths soothed our silence.
Starlight illuminated the edges of your smile
and your calloused fingers caressed
the velvet curves of spotted night skies.
Your palms were raised into the black,
stretching out to catch the moon
for me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Morning light peered from Earth's upturned grin;
her horizon gave birth to fresh colors.
The shine in your eyes painted the morning,
you could stop time to name every dewdrop,
to count the gentle morning laughs
that brought in each new day
for me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Moon-touched fingers find a home wrapped in mine,
and gazes that coat the sunrise search me.
How could hands and eyes that caress the heavens,
that make art of every morning
find the space in their spirits,
for me?
when all I have is sighs of fresh air in return...
Starlight illuminated the edges of your smile
and your calloused fingers caressed
the velvet curves of spotted night skies.
Your palms were raised into the black,
stretching out to catch the moon
for me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Morning light peered from Earth's upturned grin;
her horizon gave birth to fresh colors.
The shine in your eyes painted the morning,
you could stop time to name every dewdrop,
to count the gentle morning laughs
that brought in each new day
for me.
And sighs of fresh air were all I could return.
Moon-touched fingers find a home wrapped in mine,
and gazes that coat the sunrise search me.
How could hands and eyes that caress the heavens,
that make art of every morning
find the space in their spirits,
for me?
when all I have is sighs of fresh air in return...
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Importance of honest communication with children: Why not to deceive your children about Santa, the Easter Bunny, etc. (Writing by me on Helium.com)
I remember the sheer disappointment crossing the faces of countless first-grade students as they finally realized that not only did the tooth fairy and easter bunny turn out to be their parents, but the most beloved of all holiday figures, Santa Clause himself was merely a myth. I can recall the hushed whispers across lunch tables, warning older students that, "Susan still believed in -insert worldly holiday figure here-"
Growing up in a fairly strong Christian home, it was easy for me to see the fine line between fiction and reality. I, as a child, celebrated holidays on both sides of the spectrum. On Christmas I wrote letters to the jolly man in the red suit, awaited baskets from the 6ft bunny on Easter and placed neatly plucked teeth under my pillow for the tooth fairy. At the same time, my parents made sure that my brother and I understood the true spiritual aspect of the holidays. It was always important to remember that Christmas was not just a day for me to unwrap new toys, but it was a day to celebrate the day that a child come to save the world had been born and Easter was to celebrate his death and resurrection. It wasn't until I was quite a bit older that this fact dug deep into my heart and had a genuine impact. I don't think that I had ever fully believed in any mythical holiday figure, but they certainly gave me a chance to widen my imagination, which may not be a blessing after all.
Would the true meaning of these holidays have impacted me as greatly had I never been introduced to the world-version? Most likely, yes.
As I watch Christian teens around me fall ever so quickly into the hands of this world, most of them claiming that Christianity is "too much of a fairy tale", I realize the importance of the values my parents instilled at church while I grew up. The most important thing that any parent can hope for their child is that they have a firm faith in the Lord, and I hope that when I do have kids, I can help my children know the distinct line between truth and fiction.
Faith is the foundation of a Christian's relationship with their Lord and Savior and I find my colorful imagination a slight hindering factor. It becomes harder and harder to believe in something I've been taught from birth when so many endless possibilities await at the tips of my mind. But still, deep in my heart, I know what is real. I know the reality of Christ.
It is easy to give into the cute fantasies of the world and let your child, "have a little fun" on the holidays, but it is important to remember that what you teach your child now will have an impact later. Whether it be the stunning realization that Santa isn't real, or that the Easter Bunny never existed, a truly flawed and dishonest parent is revealed in a child's eyes. The foundations of faith have to be instilled from the start or your wide-eyed toddler will grow into a doubting teen and possibly a skeptical adult. Children are not as naive as they are typically made out to be, and children realize above all ages the severity of being lied to. If you were lying about Santa...what about this Jesus guy?
Growing up in a fairly strong Christian home, it was easy for me to see the fine line between fiction and reality. I, as a child, celebrated holidays on both sides of the spectrum. On Christmas I wrote letters to the jolly man in the red suit, awaited baskets from the 6ft bunny on Easter and placed neatly plucked teeth under my pillow for the tooth fairy. At the same time, my parents made sure that my brother and I understood the true spiritual aspect of the holidays. It was always important to remember that Christmas was not just a day for me to unwrap new toys, but it was a day to celebrate the day that a child come to save the world had been born and Easter was to celebrate his death and resurrection. It wasn't until I was quite a bit older that this fact dug deep into my heart and had a genuine impact. I don't think that I had ever fully believed in any mythical holiday figure, but they certainly gave me a chance to widen my imagination, which may not be a blessing after all.
Would the true meaning of these holidays have impacted me as greatly had I never been introduced to the world-version? Most likely, yes.
As I watch Christian teens around me fall ever so quickly into the hands of this world, most of them claiming that Christianity is "too much of a fairy tale", I realize the importance of the values my parents instilled at church while I grew up. The most important thing that any parent can hope for their child is that they have a firm faith in the Lord, and I hope that when I do have kids, I can help my children know the distinct line between truth and fiction.
Faith is the foundation of a Christian's relationship with their Lord and Savior and I find my colorful imagination a slight hindering factor. It becomes harder and harder to believe in something I've been taught from birth when so many endless possibilities await at the tips of my mind. But still, deep in my heart, I know what is real. I know the reality of Christ.
It is easy to give into the cute fantasies of the world and let your child, "have a little fun" on the holidays, but it is important to remember that what you teach your child now will have an impact later. Whether it be the stunning realization that Santa isn't real, or that the Easter Bunny never existed, a truly flawed and dishonest parent is revealed in a child's eyes. The foundations of faith have to be instilled from the start or your wide-eyed toddler will grow into a doubting teen and possibly a skeptical adult. Children are not as naive as they are typically made out to be, and children realize above all ages the severity of being lied to. If you were lying about Santa...what about this Jesus guy?
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