Thursday, September 24, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Something we all need to hear.
Here's the link, but I'm going to repost this below. This is a guest blog written by Jamie Tworkowski of TWLOHA (twloha.com) for Alt Press. Check it out.
http://www.altpress.com/features/blogtwloha.htm
If someone gave you a microphone and a stage, what would you say and what would you sing? Whether the crowd was 10 people or 10,000, what would you make with the moment?
I was going to write a letter to the frontmen--the folks who sing in bands. I was going to say that there should be a system or some classes where they would be reminded that music is a very special thing; something not unlike a miracle, rich with history and the potential to move people and change lives. They would learn about urgency and honesty, the value of a moment and a song's unique ability to cause people to feel, to remind them that they're alive and that life is worth living.
And it crossed my mind to say those things because lately, it seems like there's been moments when everyone is forgetting. I'm bored with watching guys play to thousands of people and it feels like everyone says the same thing in saying nothing: "How you motherf****s doing?" is followed by a request for the world's largest circle pit. Congratulations. You are the fourth band in a row to say the exact same thing.
Are you kidding me? You beat the odds by making it and they hand you this electronic thing that makes your voice louder and that's the best you could come up with? That's what you wanted to tell the world? The stage is sacred. It's above the ground so that people can see the magic when it happens; so that people can see something bigger than the sum of its parts; something louder than the same dumb joke, brighter than the latest neon trend. Tell us your story. Show us your heart. Remind us of our own. Point to something. In the silence between songs, point to something that matters, some question or problem that steals your sleep at night. Invite us to be part of the solution.
But maybe the lessons are not just for the guys with microphones. Maybe this stuff applies to all of us. It's been said that all the world's a stage and that maybe we all have some kind of influence and opportunities to say real things and move people. The stage in front of the crowd is this obvious place where it happens, but maybe it's true that we each have our songs to sing and venues to play. We each get a few people who listen and a few people to listen to. We each have our jobs and our schools and all the places where life happens. We live in a world filled with needs and opportunities. Every person has a story. There's plenty of room for meaning, depth and change. Don't buy the lie that says there's only room for jokes and it's cooler not to care about anything. The bar has been set way too low. There's room for magic and inspiration. There's room to live a better story.
The show starts now. alt
(Jamie Tworkowski is the founder of To Write Love On Her Arms, a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. Since 2006, TWLOHA has responded to 100,000 messages from over 100 countries. They've also given $500,000 directly to treatment and recovery. Tworkowski will be speaking at universities across America this fall. Visit www.twloha.com for more info. )
http://www.altpress.com/features/blogtwloha.htm
If someone gave you a microphone and a stage, what would you say and what would you sing? Whether the crowd was 10 people or 10,000, what would you make with the moment?
I was going to write a letter to the frontmen--the folks who sing in bands. I was going to say that there should be a system or some classes where they would be reminded that music is a very special thing; something not unlike a miracle, rich with history and the potential to move people and change lives. They would learn about urgency and honesty, the value of a moment and a song's unique ability to cause people to feel, to remind them that they're alive and that life is worth living.
And it crossed my mind to say those things because lately, it seems like there's been moments when everyone is forgetting. I'm bored with watching guys play to thousands of people and it feels like everyone says the same thing in saying nothing: "How you motherf****s doing?" is followed by a request for the world's largest circle pit. Congratulations. You are the fourth band in a row to say the exact same thing.
Are you kidding me? You beat the odds by making it and they hand you this electronic thing that makes your voice louder and that's the best you could come up with? That's what you wanted to tell the world? The stage is sacred. It's above the ground so that people can see the magic when it happens; so that people can see something bigger than the sum of its parts; something louder than the same dumb joke, brighter than the latest neon trend. Tell us your story. Show us your heart. Remind us of our own. Point to something. In the silence between songs, point to something that matters, some question or problem that steals your sleep at night. Invite us to be part of the solution.
But maybe the lessons are not just for the guys with microphones. Maybe this stuff applies to all of us. It's been said that all the world's a stage and that maybe we all have some kind of influence and opportunities to say real things and move people. The stage in front of the crowd is this obvious place where it happens, but maybe it's true that we each have our songs to sing and venues to play. We each get a few people who listen and a few people to listen to. We each have our jobs and our schools and all the places where life happens. We live in a world filled with needs and opportunities. Every person has a story. There's plenty of room for meaning, depth and change. Don't buy the lie that says there's only room for jokes and it's cooler not to care about anything. The bar has been set way too low. There's room for magic and inspiration. There's room to live a better story.
The show starts now. alt
(Jamie Tworkowski is the founder of To Write Love On Her Arms, a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. Since 2006, TWLOHA has responded to 100,000 messages from over 100 countries. They've also given $500,000 directly to treatment and recovery. Tworkowski will be speaking at universities across America this fall. Visit www.twloha.com for more info. )
Friday, May 15, 2009
Jon Foreman 3 Day Fast for Darfur: Day 3 Blog Entry
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Darfur Fast Blog 4, Day 3: Four Morning Thoughts
I woke up early. It's day number three of the fast and I am definitely feeling it... I crawl out of bed and have four immediate thoughts:
My first thought: I have access to clean water and a roof to sleep under. I have a bed. I have my guitar. In this fast I was hoping to join in solidarity with those who are fasting without an option; and yet the hunger I have right now is nothing compared to the despair of Darfur. Robbed of dignity, robbed of their homes, these refugees are on the run from brutal violence and rape, seeking out any form of hope. The smallest bit of hunger that I feel this morning cannot even be compared to the hunger that Darfur woke up with today: a hunger for dignity, a hunger for freedom, a hunger for so much more than simply food.
My second though was this: I need so much grace. I need so much patience. I need so many second chances. Even in this fast, I'm sure my motives are impure most the time. I might be drinking only water but it's my mind and my heart that are corrupted and impure. I would like to think that I have it all together but I don't- from the
little things: I screw up the time and end up running late way too often- to the big things: I get overwhelmed at suffering and sorrow in the world and sometimes would rather turn the other way. And in my hopes to get things right I can be extremely judgmental of everyone everything around me. Dang it. I'm sorry all. God is so patient with me. My friends and family are so patient with me. I need to learn how to pass this grace along.
My third thought was along these lines: we are meant to live and love in community- to grow old together having shared laughter and pain and joy- to love each other through the painful spots. But we're so bent and hurt that we drive each other away. We've been so broken and shattered (Speaking out of experience here!), that we are driven to
break and shatter the ones around us. Call it our fallen nature, or look to Freud and call it our death urge... might as well call it the front page of the newspaper. The fact is: we are driven to pieces, destroying ourselves and those around us in the search for meaning. No life is meant to be lived alone. We know this and yet on a planet with millions of people we drive lonely cars and work lonely jobs. We start lonely wars and buy lonely houses.
My fourth thought: Everything on this capital planet is worth what we will pay for it. The "worth" of gold rises and falls according to public opinion. The housing market, meats and vegetables, vintage guitars, oil... The trouble is that people fall into this category as well. The value of human life and dignity... What's it worth? Is it worth my time? Is it worth risking national security? Is it worth more than oil? Is it worth getting out of my comfort zone to help someone out? What we ascribe worth to is what we "worth-ship" - and what we worship is most evident with our time and money. Stock up treasures in heaven where moths and rust cannot destroy.
What's the meaning of life? What's worth living for? We live out those answers everyday in our choices. It's a tremendous amount of power, (accompanied with fear and trembling). The staggering realization is this: you've been loaned the power to determine what's "worth it" in your lifetime. Every hour of life affords a tremendous amount of spending power; choose wisely with your time, it's one of your most valuable resources.
Darfur Fast Blog 4, Day 3: Four Morning Thoughts
I woke up early. It's day number three of the fast and I am definitely feeling it... I crawl out of bed and have four immediate thoughts:
My first thought: I have access to clean water and a roof to sleep under. I have a bed. I have my guitar. In this fast I was hoping to join in solidarity with those who are fasting without an option; and yet the hunger I have right now is nothing compared to the despair of Darfur. Robbed of dignity, robbed of their homes, these refugees are on the run from brutal violence and rape, seeking out any form of hope. The smallest bit of hunger that I feel this morning cannot even be compared to the hunger that Darfur woke up with today: a hunger for dignity, a hunger for freedom, a hunger for so much more than simply food.
My second though was this: I need so much grace. I need so much patience. I need so many second chances. Even in this fast, I'm sure my motives are impure most the time. I might be drinking only water but it's my mind and my heart that are corrupted and impure. I would like to think that I have it all together but I don't- from the
little things: I screw up the time and end up running late way too often- to the big things: I get overwhelmed at suffering and sorrow in the world and sometimes would rather turn the other way. And in my hopes to get things right I can be extremely judgmental of everyone everything around me. Dang it. I'm sorry all. God is so patient with me. My friends and family are so patient with me. I need to learn how to pass this grace along.
My third thought was along these lines: we are meant to live and love in community- to grow old together having shared laughter and pain and joy- to love each other through the painful spots. But we're so bent and hurt that we drive each other away. We've been so broken and shattered (Speaking out of experience here!), that we are driven to
break and shatter the ones around us. Call it our fallen nature, or look to Freud and call it our death urge... might as well call it the front page of the newspaper. The fact is: we are driven to pieces, destroying ourselves and those around us in the search for meaning. No life is meant to be lived alone. We know this and yet on a planet with millions of people we drive lonely cars and work lonely jobs. We start lonely wars and buy lonely houses.
My fourth thought: Everything on this capital planet is worth what we will pay for it. The "worth" of gold rises and falls according to public opinion. The housing market, meats and vegetables, vintage guitars, oil... The trouble is that people fall into this category as well. The value of human life and dignity... What's it worth? Is it worth my time? Is it worth risking national security? Is it worth more than oil? Is it worth getting out of my comfort zone to help someone out? What we ascribe worth to is what we "worth-ship" - and what we worship is most evident with our time and money. Stock up treasures in heaven where moths and rust cannot destroy.
What's the meaning of life? What's worth living for? We live out those answers everyday in our choices. It's a tremendous amount of power, (accompanied with fear and trembling). The staggering realization is this: you've been loaned the power to determine what's "worth it" in your lifetime. Every hour of life affords a tremendous amount of spending power; choose wisely with your time, it's one of your most valuable resources.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Steven's Modern Life
It's a Monday morning at 3:43 and I'm awake listening to Ratatat and editing photographs. This sums up what I like to do in my spare time fairly well.
(20 minutes later)
Just finished editing. Here is the video I made today. And here are the photographs that I played around with this late night/early morning. Nothing is final.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2087295&id=29904207&l=c979f
(20 minutes later)
Just finished editing. Here is the video I made today. And here are the photographs that I played around with this late night/early morning. Nothing is final.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2087295&id=29904207&l=c979f
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I will be seeing these in theaters.
The next Garden State?
Yes. I am way more excited for this than Transformers. Pick a side. This is mine.
I think this will be the funniest movie of the year. We'll see.
I know it looks a little psycho, but that's Tarantino for you.
And how can you not be excited for this????
Yes. I am way more excited for this than Transformers. Pick a side. This is mine.
I think this will be the funniest movie of the year. We'll see.
I know it looks a little psycho, but that's Tarantino for you.
And how can you not be excited for this????
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