Garden of Sounds...

Talent is the day in the sunlight and large crowds with the hustle and bustle to make their way in to take a peak.  The gardens with their rich vibrant colors and wondrous gifts of nature, and complimenting the architecture.  It is live, in the moment, a seed planted and a garden blossoms.  Surely, a "green thumb" is needed and persistent talent to create such an arrangement.  It is work, and the result is purely magical and gifts of "mother earth" at our doorstep. 

Everywhere, you turn there is artistic talent in every shape, form , sound, sight and visual.  The radio stations are fighting to keep themselves in business, media has grown so large and our choices are sometimes overwhelming.  So much, that the basic forms of entertainment and pleasure are sometimes the best answer.  A walk around the block has and will always be a way to humble us and give us a neighborly perspective.  So much has been created, discarded, evolved, recycled, processed.  The cycle always continues, but that voice we heard twenty years or so, remains as a tie to our past.

The disco days have come and gone, but the memory of the disco ball shines brightly, and we hear her song, "On the Radio".  There is an immediate feeling streamed from the song and each person has a different notion of what the song meant to them.  Who they were with when that song played on the radio, then tape or record to CD and now a digital stream into pods. 

However we choose to hear her talented voice, it is still one of those songs that you can play over and over again, and her voice touches us in ways that are hard to describe. Lately, there have been many talents of past generations and ones who have evolved, passing.  The news comes at a shock, and everywhere you turn the sound that has come and now drifts off into heaven.  It felt like heaven listening to her voice, and now we imagine what she might have experienced being such an iconic figure.  She represented time for us in a way that nobody else will be able to do.

One day, I heard her music again being played in the photo lab in college.  This popular, and very stylish peer, asked everyone if they didn't mind that he played her music.  I don't recall anyone having any issues with her music being played.  They were all artist themselves but of a visual representation.  Her sound touched everyone differently, inspired us, moved us to greater places in our creation process.  Later, I began to play her in my painting studio, it was the beginning of the grunge days and the style was transformed and it was the days of "Nirvana".  Retro was in and is still alive and well and decades later we have another beat to represent the time, "Lady Gaga", pops into my mind.  There are many more new sounds,  and I almost forty have a hard time keeping up with.

The collage of our time is filled with colors, styles and sounds of the past.  In our own neighborhood, we all express ourselves differently.  The range is far and wide and all the talents are not always seen.  We are private people and only share parts of us through our work and the way we live, the arrangement in the window box is a language we all speak but no words need to be exchanged.  It is a visual language that has evolved and transformed through the decades with different people in the news, spotlight, and media in every form. 

We live in a garden, so to speak, and sometimes the flowers bloom and sometimes we never see the results in the proper time.  Years later, the seed that never bloomed that year in my garden, bloomed elsewhere...and that is the faith we must accept in living in our time that there is predictable and unpredictable constantly around us.  What is certain is time and the mystery of what the future holds and how will the present be seen in ten or twenty years from now?   Time passes, the garden grows, the music plays... everyone views the garden differently and the song holds many meanings depending on who you ask...

Talent is the day in the sunlight and large crowds with the hustle and bustle to make their way in to take a peak.  The gardens with their rich vibrant colors and wonderous gifts of nature, and complimenting the archictecture.  It is live, in the moment, a seed planted and a garden blossoms.  Surely, a "green thumb" is needed and persistent talent to create such an arrangement.  It is work, and the result is purely magical and gifts of "mother earth" at our doorstep. 

Everywhere, you turn there is artistic talent in every shape, form , sound, sight and visual.  The radio stations are fighting to keep themselves in business, media has grown so large and our choices are sometimes overwhelming.  So much, that the basic forms of entertainment and pleasure are sometimes the best answer.  A walk around the block has and will always be a way to humble us and give us a neighborly perspective.  So much has been created, discarded, evolved, recycled, processed.  The cycle always continues, but that voice we heard twenty years or so, remains as a tie to our past.

The disco days have come and gone, but the memory of the discoball shines brightly, and we hear her song, "On the Radio".  There is an immediate feeling strreamed from the song and each person has a different notion of what the song meant to them.  Who they were with when that song played on the radio, then tape or record to cd and now a digital stream into ipods. 

However we choose to hear her talented voice, it is still one of those songs that you can play over and over again, and her voice touches us in ways that are hard to describe. Lately, there have been many talents of past generations and one's who have evolved, passing.  The news comes at a shock, and everywhere you turn the sound that has come and now drifts off into heaven.  It felt like heaven listening to her voice, and now we imagine what she might have experienced being such an iconic figure.  She represented time for us in a way that nobody else will be able to do.

One day, I heard her music again being played in the photo lab in college.  This popular, and very stylish peer, asked everyone if they didn't mind that he played her music.  I don't recall anyone having any issues with her music being played.  They were all artist themselves but of a visual representation.  Her sound touched everyone differently, inspired us, moved us to greater places in our creation process.  Later, I began to play her in my painting studio, it was the beginning of the grundge days and the style was transformed and it was the days of "Nirvana".  Retro was in and is still alive and well and decades later we have another beat to represent the time, "Lady Gaga", pops into my mind.  There are many more new sounds,  and I almost forty have a hard time keeping up with.

The collage of our time is filled with colors, styles and sounds of the past.  In our own neighborhood, we all express ourselves differently.  The range is far and wide and all the talents are not always seen.  We are private people and only share parts of us through our work and the way we live, the arrangement in the window box is a language we all speak but no words need to be exchanged.  It is a visual language that has evolved and transformed through the decades with different people in the news, spotlight, and media in every form. 

We live in a garden, so to speak, and sometimes the flowers bloom and sometimes we never see the results in the proper time.  Years later, the seed that never bloomed that year in my garden, bloomed elsewhere...and that is the faith we must accept in living in our time that there is predictable and unpredictable constantly around us.  What is certain is time and the mystery of what the future holds and how will the present be seen in ten or twenty years from now?   Time passes, the garden grows, the music plays... everyone views the garden differently and the song holds many meanings depending on who you ask...