A Jeff Buckley Movie?

I first discovered Jeff Buckley as I think most people do, in the midst of post break up depression.  I was in college, freshly dumped, not showering, and down in the dumps of self pity when I stumbled upon his first album Grace.  And oh what a moody, lovetorn,  depressing, high pitched breath of fresh air it was.  This man understood me, he knew my pain, and I could feel it ebbing from the speakers.

I believe that music at its best, meets us wherever we are, be it in unrelenting joy, hum drum boredom, or gut wrenching heartache; and works its way into our lives through those moments.  Sometimes its just background, and other times it seems its literally carrying us along.  And it's probably different for everybody, but for me to find a musician who seemed to be waaaay more sensitive than me, dumped more times than me, and have a higher pitched voice than me was huge. As time went on I delved deeper and deeper into all things Jeff Buckley, his mysterious drowning death, his unfulfilled attempts at recording a follow up album to Grace, and the estranged relationship he had with his famous father Tim Buckley; which it turns out is fascinating in its own right.

And now, it looks like a Jeff Buckley movie is finally going to be made... Yes Please!!

New Beginnings

My oh my, how the months have flown since we have last updated our lives. Friends have gotten married, babies have been born, perspectives and ideals have been evolved, dinners have been shared, and love has somehow grown. Spectacular, marvelous.

I've also written a few more short stories and have been able to take a few classes and workshops to help shape my writing. And though, lately, it's been eating up most of my evening and weekend hours (Julian and Ranger are not delighted about that), it's been a wonderful affair, thus far.

Today I awoke from a nap and found words forming into sentences forming into a paragraph in my head. And then I thought of a title. Julian, gracious soul, brought me my computer, as I claimed I didn't want to lose it (though he probably suspects my laziness played a part). I wondered if you might like to see a snippet, dear reader.

Who am I? Who do you think I am?

            I am a woman, a woman who is a wife, a daughter, a friend, and I am a follower of Christ. I suppose the latter should be the first, if I am to be a good disciple, or any disciple at all, really. See, there’s a cost to seeking out God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit: He, They, must come first. It’s a price that may seem considerable; it is a lot to give. And yet, when I think about who God is, the small bits I’ve learned about the goodness of His character; who Jesus is, the way He loves so completely, calls us friend; who the Holy Spirit is, how it shifts on the wind and catches up my spirit within its own, makes me say “yes!”; when I consider those elements, the cost does not seem high enough.

            In this way, my life is ruled by love, being the greatest of Christ’s commands. Love God, love your neighbor, a simple phrase, a complex task to live out. This kind of love sustains, this kind of love cannot be contained or controlled. It makes a person scream Hallelujah!; it makes them fall to their knees.

            It’s where I am now, knees creaking, though they are not quite old enough for that.

Perhaps this will be the start of something new and wondrous, and possibly better, although who really knows. 

And now we will return to a night of reading and writing and cream soda. Hurrah!