Friday, January 02, 2009

Pearls before breakfast.

Maybe you won't take the time to read through all of this, as it is a fairly lengthy piece. And, if that happened, it'd be all too sad, considering the message it attempts to put across. I, for one, am glad my stepdad alerted me of this, right out of the Washington Post. It is writing of this caliber that makes me want to be a newspaper reporter all over again (and that only happens about once every few years, honestly) ... if only more newspaper reporters were allowed to write this way. But, more than that, it speaks of slowing down, drinking in and enjoying the beauty that surrounds us. Open your eyes, fill up your ears and chew carefully. I am all for that. And I'm glad I received this reminder to do it more.

Here it is ... READ IT when you have the time to do so.


tim and brandi said...

That was fantastic. I can't believe I read the entire thing, but once I started, the story drew me in. Thanks for sharing this - it brought tears to my eyes.


Me said...

Thanks for this.

At one time, you had the following quote by Rumi on your blog, "Let the beauty you love be what you do. There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the earth." I jotted it down and put it up on my bathroom mirror. For the hardest year of my life, I woke up and read it and reflected upon it each time I washed my hands or looked in my bathroom mirror. It really helped me. The theme of this quote reminds me of this article. Even though I've never met you, it's obvious what a beautiful spirit you have. Thank you for sharing it, even with strangers.

Have a Happy New Year, Dainon. I'm happy to report that the advice in your quote paid off. I have a lot of beauty and joy in my life now, and never forget to kneel down and kiss the ground. The beauty I love is now what I do. Thanks for being so inspiring. Thanks for being you.

Oh and you should listen to Kasey Chambers and Shane Nicholson sing Once In A While while reading this comment. That's the soundtrack of my comment. :-)

upto12 said...

thanks, d. needed that. really needed it.

aisy said...

I remember hearing this story on NPR this past year... but am glad I got to read the whole story.

Beloved Inamorata said...

This was an interesting article. Sad. It reminds me of an older video I saw of an out of shape violin being auctioned off to a crowd. It was not even being bid on, until it was played. After it was played, it was thought of as riches to kings. And yes, it was auctioned off.

Dainon. said...

I've underestimated the lot of you, obviously. I didn't think anybody would read it, based on how long it took me to get through it, but I was wrong. I like being proven wrong. This thing's nearly a couple years old, but time hasn't allowed this story to fade so much, you know?

And, mystery Me, whoever you are, thanks for your kind, kind words. What you had to say ... all of it ... sorta made my day. And receiving boosts like that help more than you know.

Mellie said...

Wow! Incredible. This was inspiring in a million different ways.

And D, I know you would have stopped. And I would have stopped too, only because whenever I hear a musician in the street I think of you and stop to listen.

erita. said...

fantastic piece--i was completely engrossed. i have been chewing on the ideas it presented all day. i'd like to think, of course, that i would've stopped and recognized the beauty presented like a gift amidst all the mundane--if only as a violinist and supporter of street musicians in general-- but how often do i miss opportunities like this every day? wow.



Me said...

Thanks for the thanks.

I had the soundtrack all wrong. I meant to have you listen to Song For The Angels by The Great Lake Swimmers. That will fit the comment better. I do like that Kasey Chambers song though. The music of that song fits the comment, but the lyrics of The Great Lake Swimmers fits better.

You really are something, Dainon. I'm happy my comment fuzzed you warmly.

Miranda said...

To echo the other sentiments of gratitude, I concur. The WP piece manages to be both introspective and inspiring. Tragic and tender. (Accentuated by the replays from that hidden video camera--images punching every nuanced meaning behind the writing). Especially interesting, as I sift through memories of similar musicians I encounter on my morning commute. Thank you for the reminder.