The Extraordinary Mind That Speaks to Me

The walls at the car wash, restaurants, and burrito stand all have the ubiquitous actor/model headshot row.

You want to have a heart-to-heart, get-deep conversation?

Bonding over sharing a shortcut through the canyons, recommending a wine bar, raving over a massage therapist, yoga class or place to get your hair done or get a pedicure is just the icebreaker.

Yet, I manage to be surprised by the artic chill I meet upon some people who cooly embrace the ice talk. I am surrounded by beautiful people and yet experience no warm fuzzies in the common-ness of hotness.

Come on now, I am listening... patiently as if waiting upon an instrument that is being tuned, curious to hear its voice. But I am not here because of the instrument, the repetoire, or the stage. I am here for the artist; the musician.

Who sits unaware of an audience. Tuning without listening and practicing without passion...

I don't want to be that way. There are some days when constant reminding toward awareness is necessary... like when you go to your room to grab something and you have to keep telling yourself on your way to remember.. remember... remember...

Remember to break through the ice... remember to breath and enjoy the warmth of and beat of one's heart... and remember to sing one's song...and remember to bow...

Speaking poetry through one's eyes, floating a sweet song upon souls that welcome become captivated....to enjoy every moment leading to the curtain call.

It's an experience to enjoy the applause and the warmth, say thank you, say I love yous, and happily walk away.

And yet, I meet people who want to experience that and yet they keep their art distant, their audience confused and guessing. They want applause and encores in enchange for silence. This is being a headshot and nothing more.

Do you grace walls or do you grace lives?

These are some of the thoughts kicking in my mind for Saturday morning's podcast or Romancing LA. Call in to share your thoughts.

JNET