Chasing Chords
As I grow older, there are fewer and fewer of my favorite bands that I haven't seen play live. It's been since 2016 since Blind Pilot released any music, so there were times I doubted it would ever happen. Not too long ago, Pitchfork referred to them as “one of the crown jewels of Oregon’s indie-folk scene”—a sentiment I've always shared. Sufjan Stevens, Bon Iver, The Decemberists, José González, Fleet Foxes, Iron & Wine, and Blind Pilot: all titans of indie folk, with Blind Pilot perhaps lesser-known but no less significant.
I have my ticket for their summer tour in hand. The trip is planned, and the road to a new city, where I'll finally experience Blind Pilot live—not just as echoes in my headphones, but as vibrant notes floating through the air—is now before me.
“I went into the desert only at the darkest moment of the night, when the sun was farthest below the world. I came to a place where no light shone any longer, and there I found the beginning of the way. And so, when I endured all the darkness and the terror, and the innermost fortresses of my soul were broken into, I saw the lowest and the darkest, and it was beyond hope and fear. Then suddenly the sun was there, rising brilliantly.”
Of My Hiatus
It’s been about six months since my website went offline and I’m sure there have been a least a few wondering why and where I’ve been. Mostly, I’ve been getting older and dealing with all the wonderful surprises that comes along with that. Read More
I’m trying to find a song that’s on the tip of my tongue so I’m going through my entire library searching for it. Tonight’s songs might be a little old school for your tastes, just a forewarning.
It’s been a long four years. February 08, 2020. That’s the day I rented a storage unit and put my life on hold. It’s funny how if you just act like you’re invisible and meaningless long enough, you can eventually become exactly that— a shadow in your own story, drifting through the days until you're ready to step back into the light.
I’m ready.
Wait for me and I’ll return,Only wait very hard. Wait as you’re filled with sorrow as you watch the yellow rain. Wait as the wind sweeps the snowdrift. Wait in the sweltering heat. Wait when others have stopped waiting,Forgetting their yesteryears. Wait even when from afar no letters come to you. Wait even when others are tired of waiting. Wait even when my family think I am no more,And when friends sit around the fire drinking to my memory. Wait, and do not hurry to drink to my memory too. Wait –for I’ll return. Defying every death,And let those who do not wait say that I was lucky. They will never understand that in the midst of death,You, with your waiting, saved me. Only you and I will know how I survived–Because you waited as no one else would.