i hope this is okay.
this is a journal about beliefs in mythical creatures.
but for just a second, i'm going to pretend that it's not.
i'm going to pretend that this journal is just about beliefs.
this will make it easier for me, just this one.
i have strange connections to objects with wings.
i guess it's always been a dream of mine to fly,
not for the sole purpose of soaring through the sky,
but mainly to escape from the harsh realities of every day life.
wings are like a fire escape really.
but i don't happen to turn to birds as often as one would think.
not ducks, not any animal with wings.
what i truly turn to for inspiration and motivation is found inside of a butterfly.
i'm a musician, a flute player.
sometimes i think my connection to winged beings has to do with that very fact.
in music, in story-telling music, the flute always portrays the bird.
it's a very common fact.
it wouldn't make sense for us to be the bear, now would it?
my favorite example of a bird in music is in "peter and the wolf".
such a great flute part.
anyways, the flute repetoire is filled with runs and extremely fast notes,
lines that disappear a second after they're sounded because it moves so rapidly.
and the one thing that truly motivates me to win the marathon of flute playing is watching a butterfly.
even looking at a butterfly.
when i'm playing, i picture myself out in an open field dancing around by myself with butterflies fluttering all around me almost decorating the air around me.
blues, oranges, reds, greens.
purples, yellows, pinks, even whites.
their wings flutter up against my eyelashes,
race among my fingers,
and every now and then, they just glide and i can't help but follow them...
with out the simple soul of a butterfly,
i wouldn't be the musician i am today.
but for just a second, i'm going to pretend that it's not.
i'm going to pretend that this journal is just about beliefs.
this will make it easier for me, just this one.
i have strange connections to objects with wings.
i guess it's always been a dream of mine to fly,
not for the sole purpose of soaring through the sky,
but mainly to escape from the harsh realities of every day life.
wings are like a fire escape really.
but i don't happen to turn to birds as often as one would think.
not ducks, not any animal with wings.
what i truly turn to for inspiration and motivation is found inside of a butterfly.
i'm a musician, a flute player.
sometimes i think my connection to winged beings has to do with that very fact.
in music, in story-telling music, the flute always portrays the bird.
it's a very common fact.
it wouldn't make sense for us to be the bear, now would it?
my favorite example of a bird in music is in "peter and the wolf".
such a great flute part.
anyways, the flute repetoire is filled with runs and extremely fast notes,
lines that disappear a second after they're sounded because it moves so rapidly.
and the one thing that truly motivates me to win the marathon of flute playing is watching a butterfly.
even looking at a butterfly.
when i'm playing, i picture myself out in an open field dancing around by myself with butterflies fluttering all around me almost decorating the air around me.
blues, oranges, reds, greens.
purples, yellows, pinks, even whites.
their wings flutter up against my eyelashes,
race among my fingers,
and every now and then, they just glide and i can't help but follow them...
with out the simple soul of a butterfly,
i wouldn't be the musician i am today.