Blog Title.

Maybe it was because I was surrounded by the smell of delicious food. Maybe it was the four guitars being played in the same room. Maybe it was the wonton soup that was warming up my tummy. But most likely it was just being with my family again. Yes, we were gathered for an unfortunate reason. But we helped each other get to this point. I love them more than the world. And I have a flood of inspiration rushing through me like the warmth of delicious soups.

I'm going tomorrow again. I hope all of you are having a great weekend.



Kelsey Rae

Pull The Fuzzies From My Sweater.

The prayers started again last night. So today means going to LA and spending time with the three best little shits in the whole world, and jamming with my really cool cousin Lawrence.

I haven't produced anything that requires even a tinge of creativity lately, so last night was difficult. But, I'm enjoying what might become the end result. All I know is that I'm turning this simple English poster into a full blown art project. I miss drawing. I miss being able to create musical fusion. I miss that creative spark that I used to have. What went wrong? What did I lose?

Oh, and I suck at drawing trees with leaves.



Kelsey Rae

I'm Thinking It's A Sign.

If I had it my way, we'd all be naked. With no shoes. All the time. It's really the only way things would make sense to me.

There's definitely something lacking. And there's definitely something missing. And I hate to think that I like the idea of it more than the actually thing itself. That can only really be true because of the things we don't say and the emotions we keep in, but I have a feeling that it's going to stay that way for a while. After all, who has the courage to tell the truth nowadays?

Maybe I should just grow up and get over it. Bye the way, CSLA is lame for saying that they had an architecture program when they really only have a marketing/design major.

Kelsey Rae

Simple Simon Says.

I love..

weekends.
Friday nights.
wrestling.
KROQ block weekends.
the taste of Strawberry wine.
Sex and the City.
sleeping in.
fast food.
epic burps.
it when parents invite me over.
late night calls.
being a stalker.
mix CD's.
[Scrubs].
The Simpsons.
ice cream.
scary movies.
physics.
bending over backwards.
literature.
playing trombone.
making fun of people.
long deep talks.
playing guitar as loud as possible.
being with the people that make me happy.

And because of all that, I love life. Cause that's pretty much what I've been up to.

Now, a story.

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule. A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk. A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste, and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

Kelsey Rae

Fuck This Place.

I know that the majority of the people who read this live in or around the San Fernando Valley. So am I the only one to be embarrassed, if not ashamed of admitting that we grew up in an uncultured wasteland? It's a collection of shopping malls promoting false needs and neon signs promoting petty sex.



I think it's a disgusting place, but that's just me I suppose.

Break..it wasn't exactly great, considering all the wonderful events that took place in the beginning were quickly overshadowed by unfortunate ones. But it was the most growth that has ever taken place in such a short amount of time, for me at least.

As of right now? Life is wonderful..it never stopped being that way to be completely honest. But at least now my eyes aren't so clouded that I can't see it.

New semester tomorrow. And I'm going to cherish every moment.

Kelsey Rae

Look At You.

Look at you.
All grown up with your hollow smile.
With your half-baked philosophies and
you've finally found out how to live.
Let me count the ways you fake
You cry
You whine
And you diminish yourself.

Let's cut the fucking bullshit and start living, m'kay people?

Kelsey Rae

You Should See My Scars.

So I'm wearing this really big shirt that doesn't necessarily belong to me, but fuck, it's really comfy. So I'm stealing it. Not to be confused with a certain shirt that was given to me, but is two sizes too big.

She isn't going to have a funeral. She isn't going to have her brothers and sisters cry over her departure, nor is she going to have a beautiful farewell. Shes going to be put into a pot and buried with her widower in Chicago. I guess I'm not going to Florida this weekend.

R.I.P. Margaret Summers.

Kelsey Rae

Heineken.

There's this man that I barely see. And when I was younger he was so much closer to me than a cousin..or uncle..or whatever he was. He was one of those people that you kind of idolize and model yourself after. He was hilarious and so amazingly good with kids it was kind of ridiculous. When he still lived on my street, he would look after me and my cousins and my sister. And everyone knew him. And now that he lives in Santa Clarita with his wife, none of the little kids do. It's just a little sad.

There was a point when I was bawling my eyes out when he took my face in his hand and looked at me for a second, as if saying all of the "I'm sorry"'s and "It's okay"'s that he hasn't been there for over the last couple years. He looked into my eyes and took me into his arms again. That moment replays in my head every couple days and I remember the emotion that overcame me at that moment. I feel all the sadness and joy and bliss that I felt while being hugged. How good it felt to be a little kid again, being nurtured by someone just trying to protect you and let you know that you are loved.

I miss him terribly. Alas, I am too embarrassed and scared to admit it to him. After all, I was only a little kid at the time..and it's been a while since I've talked to him. I'm not sure why I wrote it down today, I guess I just had to get it out of my system.

Yesterday was just what I needed. To lie down in that feeling all over again, this time in an entirely different context. But, with the same amount of snot.

Practice tomorrow. Maybe..

Also, my current obsession.


Kelsey Rae

Honey, Don't You Weep.

Funeral.
Umras.
Party.
Four guitar jam session.

But I can't help it now
Looking for faces in the clouds
I got some friends I barely see
But we're all planning to meet
We'll lay in bags as dead as leaves
All together for eternity

But don't you weep
Don't you weep
There is no one as lucky
Honey, don't you weep
Don't you weep
There is nothing as lucky, as easy, or free

I'm not sure what we're praying for. But shit, it must be good.

As far as yesterday goes, thank you.
It meant the world to me.

Kelsey Rae

Writers Block.

It's hard imagining this as a new year. All the same burdens are carrying over, and already I'm struggling with this. You'd think with all the writing and crying and talking I've been doing, this really wouldn't be a problem. But ughh. Seriously. I guess I just don't want to let anyone down.

I hope all is well with the rest of you.

Kelsey Rae