Monday, September 16, 2002

This semester is going to be different, I can feel it.

There is a certain feel in the air. An expectancy of something like I have not felt before. Perhaps because it is my last year and I am placing more weight on truly living life to the fullest, or maybe because God is doing something new in my life. I tend to believe it is both.

It's the calm before the storm. When the storm will come or what it is going to bring is a complete mystery to me, but I must stand firm and not be moved by the winds that will try to blow me down.

I wish I could write more, but time is wearing down and I have much to do tomorrow. I will not forget the feeling, never let it slip through my fingers.

Sunday, August 25, 2002

Oh how quickly a day can go by and how little one can get done. I did two main things today: eat lunch and watch a football game. Where the rest of the day went I can't remember. Somewhere along the line tv and this computer sucked most of it up I'm sure. How depressing.

I've got to do something with myself. I need to get a job, go to class, walk outside... something. I spent the whole summer doing stuff and now I'm sitting around doing nothing. All this free time is bothering me. Ok, maybe it's not the free time, maybe it's the way I'm spending that free time. There's got to be something more productive to do with myself than what I have done already.

I miss the mountains. Land here is too flat. It's too hot. It's too... I'm such a whinner sometimes. Why I can't be content in where I am is a question I ask myself all the time.

I think my attention span has gotten drastically shorter recently. These disjointed three sentence paragraphs are an example. Oh well.

Maybe later I'll do something about it.

maybe not

Saturday, August 24, 2002

and a good time was had by all.

I spent this evening in Orlando. On the agenda for the night was the Denison Marrs cd release party. What happened in addition to that was what made the night really special. Not only did I get into the show for $10, but that got me the cd as well, plus I had dinner at mike graham's house, and then second dinner at mike golin's. Yeah! That's right, two home cooked meals in one night. What more could one ask for you say? How about spending an hour in the hot tub with scented beads? Check.

So I've gotten 3 great albums in 2 days. Blindside's debut release on Electra; Silence, The Juliana Theory's third LP; Love, and now the new Denison Marrs; Then is the New Now. So much rock, so little time.

I've also got to find a job. That sucks. But you know, bills gotta get paid. So if anyone knows of something let me know.

off to the comfort of my warm and soft bed. ahh.....

Friday, August 23, 2002

so it's 4am and I am still awake? Why is that? Well it might have to do with the fact that I fell asleep during the movie tonight for about half an hour so I'm not feeling tired. That kinda sucks though 'cause come tomorrow and I'll be feeling like crap. I could just sleep until I naturally wake up, however I feel like that would just start a bad precendent for the semester. There's always the job applications sitting next to me that I could fill out or I could just be unproductive and just type for now.

It's hard to come off of a summer of my schedule being made for me and then having to do it all on my own.

I never thought I could miss someone more, but I do now
I never thought I could feel so terrible about myself, but I do now

Late nights combined with an introspective spirit and personal faults is a volatile mix. I find it is much easier to hate parts of yourself than to love the whole. These words, penned by Christian Lindskog, speak my heart: "but I know, as I hammered those nails into your beautiful hands/ your eyes still try to search for mine, but I look away/ now your eyes are the only thing that can save me/ I'm still so afraid of them piercing/ you're breaking into my prison"

and so the school year begins. I believe it to be full of promise and blessing, but I must be faithful. Be faithful and true and pure. No blemish should be found on this sacrifice.

Thursday, August 15, 2002

five...


four...

and it's only three days until I am back in Gainesville. As things wind down here in New Hampshire they begin to speed up in Florida. I must say that it has been an incredible summer. I have seen so many beautiful things. Mountains, lakes, ocean, wildlife, stars, metors, and on and on it could go. But I could say that it has been an amazing summer even if I had not experienced all that.

Tuesday morning I woke up at 3:30am to drive to the top of Cadillac Mt. in Acadia National Park. This is the tallest point on the Atlantic coast and the spot where you catch the first rays of sun striking the US. While I stood there for over an hour waiting for the sun to arise, the sky slowing brightening, stars slowly fading, and the mist and fog slowly peeling back from the islands below me, God spoke. Everything was in slow motion that morning and as I was reading scripture (Genesis 1) a thought came to me. "What is a year of your life?" This thought was so far out from anything I have ever thought that I know it was from the Lord. I cannot say that I have ever felt something more sure in my life (maybe when I knew I should go on summer project to Argentina). It was one of those Elijah moments where God spoke in the still small breeze. That question answered something that has had me worried for a long time; What am I going to do with myself after I graduate? I had thought about interning with Crusade for a year or just going out and getting a so called "real job". This was God's call for me to follow him. What is a year? And if that is where he wants me, what is a lifetime? I can't not obey.

I'm writting this for my own benefit as much as others. Many may wonder, 'who cares about that Graham', but I need a reminder. This is not going to be easy. I must have faith and perseverence. I must have the help of those around me. I must have Jesus.

Thanks for all who have persevered with me this summer. I know you have not read much, but there's a new school year coming up. I'm sure there will be plenty of crazy things to write about.

Peace.

Wednesday, August 07, 2002

The summer has absolutely flown by. I can't believe that I am looking at just a week and a half until I set foot once again in that lovely North Florida town of Gainesville. The two months that I have been here in New Hampshire have seemed like only a week or so. It's not as if I've hiked over a hundred miles, over nearly twenty mountains, and witnessed some of the most breathtaking views that I have ever seen. I guess it has just come down to that point in the summer when you start to analyze how it's all gone. You're not quite done yet, but you're winding down, unconciously cutting ties and getting yourself ready to move on. I have slowly been moving from camp mode into school mode. This is natural, but sometimes not the most beneficial when it comes to relationships. So it's been a little tough as far as that goes. But I am ready for school. I never thought that I would ever say that, but I am looking forward to getting back to Gville. I think it has more to do with the people there and not the academics, but what are you going to do. And yeah I just noticed that I have used the word 'but' in four of the last five sentences. What are you going to do about it?

So, it will take me a while to be able to process all that has happened this summer. I'll need some time alone just to sit and think. Do the whole instant replay thing with my life, just with out the near dying part. A few lines here might quickly and broadly summarize it.

So take me as I am
I've nothing left to give
it's all be sacrificed for your all surpassing gift
The only thing I need
the one thing I desire
is Jesus
Jesus


I've nothing really left to say. Maybe something deep and insightful will come to me later, only to be forgotten before I ever write it down. Who knows.
He stood there with his whole body trembling. Alone in front of hundreds his eyes were clenched shut on the verge of tears. Any thought to any thing beyond the black void of those eyes had long since disappeared. As his voice cracked with the repetitious melody and heartfelt words it was as if years were lifted from those shoulders. And somewhere a wall fell. The wire and wood that hung from him seemed like a fifth limb, an extention that was not so much something to be worked as something that was to be released to work, to form it's own beauty. He was lost and did not fear it. He was weak and did not fight it. He was small and did not feign height. For a perfect second he was perfectly content. I could stay there forever. And as it faded he knew it would not return. It's time had come and gone. It had served it's purpose. To try and take more would rape it's purity. It stung, but only with the thought that time should always be like this. Something was not right. Something was not as it should be. This was how it was always supposed to be and it was not. The memory would remain, but the reality would fade. Sometime the redemption would come, but this was not it. The pleasure, pain, sorrow, and joy flowed out in one tear. The burning drop made it's course down his face and fell to the ground. It disappeared into the dry ground as if soaked up to be returned to where it came from. And all was left was the smile written in quivering muscles. And that was enough.

Monday, June 24, 2002

It's been a while since I could write here in this place... it's been a while... ACK! Don't ever sing Staind again, Graham.

To go into detail about what has happened to me in the last few weeks would be too hard of a task to undertake. So I will make it short and sweet.

God is doing incredible things here at camp. The staff has not ceased to amaze me with their love and devotion to spreading God's Word to the campers. It will be very interesting to see how the summer pans out. I can only see great things from where I am now.

So I've spent the past several days in a small cabin in the middle of camp with windows only on one side of the buiding planning trips for the next two weeks. The "Trip Locker" as it is so named is a small shack in the middle of camp that houses our, we being the trip leaders, office, if you could call it that. It's more like a command post. We plan and prep here and it is also where all the camp's hiking gear is stowed. What can I say, it's a rough job having to hike in the gorgeous White Mountain National Forest all summer. But hey, somebody's got to do it.

And as such is camp, I am being drawn away by another activity. No rest for the weary.

Friday, June 07, 2002

I am half a world away from where I began.

Right now I am sitting here on the porch of my girlfriend's aunt's house with a sandwich next to me and the cool Maine breeze blowing quietly outside. Sixteen hundred miles separate me from the start of my long trip and what seems like years in time. Driving for that long of a distance gives you a large amount of time to think. As the unending miles passed underneath and pavement and yellow lines faded into the horizon the mind can zone out into its own little world.

The question kept being asked... 'so what are you going to do with yourself when you graduate?'
Everywhere I stopped people asked that. And ever time the answer was the same... 'I have no idea.'

Am I really ready to be a counselor this summer? Do I have everything in order? Am I spiritually strong enough to be the rock many of these kids need? Will I fool everyone there as well as I have fooled those elsewhere?

Will her embrace be as sweet as I am making myself believe it will be? Will her kiss still be as deep?

The questions continued and I couldn't write them all even if I wished. I can't say that I came up with any answers but it was refreshing to have time to do that kind of thinking, not bothering my mind with work, conversation, tv, etc. Almost like liquid plumer for my head.

I actually can answer one question. It is as deep.

Saturday, June 01, 2002

no time to type. I leave in 6 hours to start the drive. posts will be intermitten but should have tons of really cool stuff. peace

Friday, May 31, 2002

it is finished
trip planning part 1: Put my crap in bags
trip planning part 2: Put bags in car
trip planning part 3: Pray, pray, pray that many long hours in the car alone with my sister does not drive me absolutely insane.

Driving up the east coast from Florida to Maine with my sister is going to be an interesting time. It's not that we don't get along, we do, but if we don't kill each other by the end of the trip it will soley be by the grace of God. We used to do this thing as a family years ago. Mom and Dad would take turns driving while Stephanie and I would be in the back of our Chevy Cavalier station wagon, seat folded down, playing. The parents would spread an egg crate matress over the back and we could sleep, play, or whatever else came into our small little heads. They would be up front driving on and off, no stopping anywhere for this train, straight shot from Orlando to Centerport, Long Island. A trip of approximately 24 hours.

The memories of years of cross country family travels bring a warm smile to my face... sometimes. Of course being small children the smallest slight by one or the other could erupt into fights of mythic proportions. So what was the elders solution to this, and here is where I think some of my personal problems come from, they doped us up. That is correct, they would give us dramamine to make us sleep. Instead of constructively dealing with issues they resorted to drugs. Ah the memories associated with that... "NO! I don't want to take the bye-bye medicine!" Oh how I fought its soothing effects. As the neural transmitters in my brain were blocked and synaptic activity slowed I fought, with all the remaining strength I had, I fought. I distinctly remember a time sitting in the front seat with my eyes held open staring into the dark of night before us using every ounce of my being to be stronger than the drugs. I prevailed. Mind over matter. I conquered the beast. However, when daylight came I crashed for about 14 hours.

Last year I did this with my dad and we straight shot from Gainesville to Dover, NH in just over 21 hours. It was some of the most impressive marathon driving I've been involved in. We'll see how this year pans out. There are some family stops on the way so that'll slow us down considerably, but it'll be nice to get free food and beds.

only 5 days...

Thursday, May 30, 2002

water dripping on my forehead and I can't taste it. That's what it is like.

She called from a public phone last night with a line of people behind her waiting for their turn. I hadn't heard her voice for going on 4 days and all I got was 10 minutes.

it was the shortest 10 minutes of my life.

ok, I'll admit that I may be obssesivly single minded right now. But since I have nothing better to think about what is there left to do. My job is not intellectually challenging, I just sit and answer the phone all day, and nothing interesting is going on at home. So where does that leave me? With a lot of free time to dwell on her.

but that soon will change
every second that passes brings her closer
could this time pass any slower
knowing I'll see her come next wednesday
yet it seemes like a world away

if you didn't get that last little bit it's ok, maybe you'll figure it out.

It's funny, or perhaps sad, how life comes to a screaching halt when the microwave dies (notice the smooth transition away from vulnerabilty). As I stood in front of the blank black panel in front of me, its face unresponsive to my touch, it made me realize how dependent I am. I need what I need right when I need it. The microwave is the physical vestment of my desire for instant gratification. It's death shatters my dreams of living in the perfect world (some dreams, eh?).

Well, that was particularly pointless so yeah...

Wednesday, May 29, 2002

She. Her. Girl. Mine.

I can’t get her out of my mind. As clichéd as that is, it is the truth. And it is killing me

The reaction is always the same:
    Person: “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
    Me: “Yeah, she lives in Maine.”
    Person: “For real?”
    Me: “Yeah”
    Person: “Oh… I’m sorry.”

I have gone for almost three months without seeing her. That is more than one should be allowed to bear.

It hasn’t always been this bad. I have this innate ability to catalogue and prioritize all the crazy things floating around in my head. This means that for the most part I have relegated the long distance relationship to the back of the pack. Not her, just the fact that the distance is there. I look at it as just a natural part of this relationship. It’s as natural as my overly critical view of myself sometimes. That’s just the way it is.

Until a month and a half ago that is.

This little worm of a thought entered my mind and whispered sweet sounding syllables to me. “It’s not that long till you can see her again. There’s more time behind you that ahead.” The damage was done. The frustration began to build. Frustration that took for itself two forms, one in the physical and one in the mental. Mental frustration arising from knowing that I cannot have what I desire. Physical frustration that stemmed from this and also from the fact that I live in a culture that is filled with images and words that show the beautiful people being beautiful together. TV, movies, books, newspaper, even real life for crying out loud all paint this picture. The chemicals in my brain have conspired to mutiny. I am no longer in control. When I close my eyes I see her. I have phantom feelings of her holding me, kissing me. I can smell her, taste the air around her. The dreams of her have returned. Thoughts are interrupted. Incoherent.

I am incapable of stopping it. The incessancy of it all is more than I can handle.

I ache to the depths. Relief is only found in her arms.

Tuesday, May 28, 2002

I have my own desk for a week. In the latest, and fortunately last, installment in my temp job career I am sitting behind a beautiful reddish oak desk. Not just a single desk, no this is a corner desk...in a corporate office. The only down side is that it is just inside the entry way. Yeah, that's right, another front line secretarial job. But in this case it is not so bad, we don't have any walk-in customers here at "Hospital Housekeeping Systems". No, this is a corporate office and only people who know the place come here. Heck, I don't even have to be polite on the telephone. "HHS, this is Graham" That's it. No, 'Good _____ (fill in time of day)' or 'Thank you for calling...' or 'Hello' even. Nope, I don't have to be cordial. It's great. Plus it's only part time. Well, that has its ups and its downs. Up, I don't have to work very long. Down, I don't get that many hours to get paid for. So for this week I get to sit here and type on the computer and scribble down lyrics and ideas and the like.
_____________________________
it's only eight days till I see her

Monday, May 27, 2002

Don't you just hate it (for those who do this blog thing) when you type something up and post but don't really read it over and then check it later to find a glaringly poor example of grammar or some left out word that makes you look like an idiot or perhaps just one long run on sentence that starts to lose all meaning towards the end and you are just left dangling with your metaphorical pants around your ankles.
Today I cried.

I was alone in a crowd of hundreds. The hot tears flowed down my cheeks this morning and I couldn't stop them. I was broken this morning. And it all started by my jamming before church. Well, I guess it really started the night before when I had a friend decided to keep me accountable to certain things. My life, therefore, was turned inside out and made easier to see how far I've really fallen. Thoughts and dreams haunting me in the night and I cannot sleep well, yet I wake up early the next morning. After I finished getting ready for church I had time to spare, which never happens. The split second decision to chose either to read a classic or play the guitar ended up with me woshiping like I have not done in quite a while. The Lord opened up something and the words came pouring out:

Jesus, you're my Wonderful Savior
Jesus, you're my Wonderful Savior

When I'm tired
When I'm weak
When I fall
And am incomplete

And I am crying out to you
My heart is frozen, Lord, to you
I need your breath to awaken me
Give me strength to fall to my knees
Your cleansing touch frees my soul to sing
This praise to you, Lord, my offering
Your Glory deserves more than I can bring
Your Holiness demands my everything
The cross it bears my sin from me
Your arms, they hold amazing love to me
I cannot express the feeling of my soul
The joy when it looks into the face of love
My lips drip with the praise of my Savior King
Your Spirit holy fire consumes my being

Then I went to church... From song one to the end it was either tears or choking on the words and it was the sweetest thing. I tend to be the stalwart one. The immovable rock. Things do not shake me, do not affect me. I've had enough of that. I plan to spend a large chunk of time tomorrow trying to find myself back to where I'm supposed to be. "From down here it's all distorted / flowing blues and greens / should I hold my breath and wait / or take a chance at finding out / what's on the other side" Something's broken and I hope to never fix it. Can I be as resolute in being as in speech? We'll find out I guess.

Sunday, May 26, 2002

Well, the computer thing really didn't work out. Not that anyone really cared. I just frustrated me and gave me about 2 hours less sleep before the CPR class. Thankfully, though, that class was so much easier than last time I took it. We ended two hours early and I didn't miss a single question on the exam. So YES I can save you for another year. And all it took was 48 bucks out of my ever shrinking wallet.

So I just had a major brain fart and can no longer think of anything interesting to write. Am I ever interesting at all? I can't really say. I'm going to stop now

Saturday, May 25, 2002

So I'm really not that smart. I have to be in St. Pete at 9am tomorrow, at least 45min away, for a CPR for the Professional Rescuer class and I am sitting here typing on this infernal machine. Why do I think it's infernal? Well, for starters it's sound card sucks royally. I've been trying to lay down some song ideas on my mom's computer, only because it's down away from everyone so I can make as much noise as I want for all hours of the night, but all I get is static. I have half a mind to just set my computer up, but I know that she would not care for that one bit. I have to keep all my crap in order or mom gets a little testy. Me screwing with things just gives me more headaches. So here I am with great ideas in my head that will probably not be there in the morning. My magnum opus, beethovan's fifth to my rocknroll soul, is right now probably half way down the brain making it's way out my anus. Ok, I've made my mind up, I deal with the talk later. For now it is time to rock.

Friday, May 24, 2002

I've been asked by my friend Josh Doody to critique his songs. This is a real honor because he has given me full opportunity to be truthful. Being a songwriter myself I know how personal songs can be and telling someone to be blatently honest can open the door to criticism you just don't want. I know, for myself personally, all I want to hear is how good my songs are. Being my own worst enemy I usually kill most songs before anyone else can here them, so when I play a song for someone I have put my all into in and to hear that it was "ok" can just kill. Well, enough of me, you guys get enough of that on this page.

I've been listening to five tracks for awhile now trying to get a feel of Josh's style and groove. As far as style goes (and here I'm cheating because I know him personally) he is highly influenced by acoustic acts like The Dave Matthews Band, John Mayer, and Bebo Norman. His groove however is much harder to pin down. Josh has only recently started writing and recording his musings on life. As such, though all the songs are acoustic, they all have their own unique voice. My personal favorite is 'It's Not What I Need'. While this song is not the most intricate, nor the simplest, I find that the lyrics are the most personal. Because of this there is an urgency in his voice that doesn't surface in the two other vocal tracks. The praise song like cry of "I need your love" stirs something in me that agrees whole heartedly. 'Letting Go' is a pretty catchy little tune. The guitar work is not that difficult, actually it's rather repetative. But this is ok because the lyrics never really repeat. The hook seems to be "you'll never change a thing / just follow this ring to the end of your life." It sounds like something you've thought before but can't say why. It holds the song together well. Though I must say that my favorite line is "And when hope has left your eyes / Everything's coated in little white lies". I tend to like the darker more introverted lyrics and that just hits the spot nicely. Just like a frosty brew on a smoke filled porch. Or for those underage I would have to say it's like IBC Cream Soda on a hot summer's day. As a complete 180 to 'Letting Go', though being a bit dark sounds upbeat in some spots, 'Monotony' is dark through and through. Both the lyrics and the guitar work never you up. They draw you down into yourself to see things that you probably would rather keep hidden. It is something that must be experienced, you really can't describe it. The other two tracks are instrumentals. 'Jazz Lick' and 'Happy Times' show Josh's ability to do great finger work. While 'Happy Times does sound strangly similar to DMB it still does not fail to make my hand hurt just listening to it. 'Jazz Lick' I believe is a misnomer because it sounds more like a bluesy riff than a jazz riff, but I still enjoy it thoroughly. The harmonics that he does amaze me. Josh has explained to me how he did it, but it still never ceases to amaze me.

Overall you can see a progression as Josh finds his sound. His songs become more coherent, more complex, in music and lyrics. I'm really looking forward to living with him next year. The sounding board of another songwriter I believe will sharpen moth our skills.

That's the end of that review. Well, I've never done a music review before so it probably sucks, but really when it comes down to it who's opinion matters, your's or mine?