My heart licks it’s lips in anticipation.
My mouth widens into a joyful grin.
I am doing what makes my soul sing.
It needs no trumpets,
No gold stars,
Heart and soul,
move my hands and mind.
Creating art, whatever that may be.
Without earthly tethers,
I am free.
Standing in line for the Jack White concert last Wednesday, the general security check was followed with a request for our cell phones to be placed in a sleek cloth pocket with a sensor latch similar to those you find on clothes in large department stores. Note -there was an area set aside for monitored use.
I felt some of the excited energy of the fans drop a couple notches when the phones were being secured, but pick up again when we entered the lobby and in the pit.
People were doing things I’ve not seen since 1993. They were having conversations without their phone as a centerpiece for it. It was weird, but kind of awesome.
Jack White might be seen as a control freak by some for asking we not use our phones. But, as the stage crew started to set up, I began to appreciate not having my phone more. At most shows, fans will scroll through their phones or, take 20 selfies, because typically the stage crew isn’t all that interesting to watch. However, this crew was outfitted in a mix of vintage uniform and costume that made the set-up of the stage intriguing and attractive at the same time.
Closer to show time, there was a fun countdown projected onto the stage that was part artful stage prop, too.
Then, he appeared in full force with his 5 band members on stage. Jack White is known for creating intense musical experiences with only him and Meg as the White Stripes and one of his more recent bands – The Dead Weather, and he stays true to form now. Don’t compare his earlier CDs to this one. Songs from the latest album are 10 times more impressive in person. Faces melted and sweat did drip out of every pore.
There was no need to crane my neck around a dozen set of arms holding phone/video cameras.I felt as many others may have there, that Jack White really did want us to connect with him. A tribute to a title song off the album, the crowd was Connected by Love – for him, his music, his band and his creativity.
A covert spy,
a covert narcissist?
Sometimes they act the same.
Both, at ease with lying,
down their noses at you with
their non-dilated gaze.
They’ll twirl their words
wearing their poker face.
They maneuver you and their ass-
across a dance floor waxed
with love that lasts,
or so they say.
A fine performance, indeed.
Distracted, Fractioned, Shattered
Does your gaze meet your lover’s eyes?
Or do you meet your own,
in the shiny screens of distraction?
Don’t break your heart on your own scattered attention.
Maybe it’s your smile
that’s so familiar.
Or, maybe it’s your face that I’ve always known.
Our connection transcends
time and space.
We’ll keep meeting in no specific earthly place.
Maybe I’ll see you in our dreams,
or spinning in the heavens and cosmos ,
or some funny place between
technology and electric communication
beeps and dings.
However we meet, know you always have my heart
without any strings.