Dance With Death

As promised, here is the completed Menger Sponge. It's made of 180 Magic Cards, most of which suck. We finished this baby last night, and I'm most likely going to add onto it when Brendon has to head out to Summer school. Tch. Some people really should focus in class instead of taking blurry pictures. We'll know that if he drops, he won't be getting into photography. Enough ripping on my good friends (Don't think you're completely off the hook though). I think it's time to address the title of this post. Roughly half an hour ago, I got a phone call from Father Jon saying how people wouldn't shut up about how much they loved the music I did for the funeral today. Me being who I am, I ran off right after the service. I can't stand being around people who feel the need to tip me, let alone people emotionally driven to give me money.

It wasn't so much that I was happy about how the music went and how well I performed in front of a couple hundred people. I was happy about the phone call. When you're up on center stage with the whole world watching, you have to do nothing but block everyone out and reach deep inside to find that insticnt inside you; That primal urge to just play your heart out. If you can do that, your audience won't care if you play the most simplistic of songs. They'll be moved by this display of sheer emotion and your ability to turn out your insides.

This is why I love my line of work. Something as mysterious and shattering as death brings families and friends together, but the music gives them hope, comfort, and something to all talk about instead of the dismal passing that is death.

With that, I'll probably spend the rest of the day outside. It's a great day outside, and there's nothing like death to help you reflect upon the wondrous beauty that is our world.

~Mister Cole Thomas