Clock Aesthetics

Looking back at my life, to high school and junior high and grade school, to the ups and downs and twists and turns, even in considering my situation now—in college—one of the biggest problems, in my life, seems to be the temporary nature of all things. I’m reading Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung by Lester Bangs right now, and it’s great, and there is an article on Astral Weeks, one of my favorite albums in the world, that is especially beautiful, talking about the depth of the album and its closeness and intimacy with people and love and relationships, all in terms of music and lyrics. It’s a very wonderful thing, Astral Weeks is, music is, but after you put the album into your record player, it ends—

 

because that’s the way music is, and life is, and people are, and relationships are, and movies are, and books are—temporary

 

(clock aesthetics)

            they start

(clock aesthetics)

and stop—

(clock aesthetics)

            and then they are over

 

The only thing that is not temporary is God, and what we do for Him and His glory: loving people and being loved. God solves all the problems in the world, and I’m not saying I understand Him fully, because there are still things that I am wrestling with in my faith, and that’s a good conversation I’d love to have, but I know that, ultimately, every time I question Him, He comes through, because He is God and this is the way things will be with God—everything is going to be all right; that’s just the way it is. And the tricky part about that statement is that it’s not necessarily true here on earth—here is the health-and-wealth gospel: Jesus lived a perfect life, and He got pinned to a tree, so even if you live in perfect obedience, life is going to be hard. And God doesn’t promise the “perfect someone” for you; He doesn’t promise that there will always be food on your plate, that you won’t be tortured, that your children won’t die in a car accident, that you won’t struggle with lust and depression and pride and jealousy and evil thoughts; God doesn’t promise a pretty life here on earth, because it’s just not going to be like that. Life on earth is

(clock aesthetics)

                        temporary

(clock aesthetics)

                                    it stops

(clock aesthetics)

            ends.

 

The band I might be touring with, Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, has this song, that makes me wish I had lived differently. It’s called “Cradle of Family.”

 

Friends come and go. They are temporary. They are like the wind. Girls come in and tease you and then they are gone. It is romantic for a bit but then they are gone and they just hurt. I’m in college in Iowa and I feel so temporary. I don’t like it. They

           

            are

(clock aesthetics)

                                    gone—

(clock aesthetics)

            so fast.

(clock aesthetics)

 

I miss the cradle of family

I miss the comfort of home

I miss the way that I used to be

More than I miss being alone

 

I miss my family and I love them and I never got to tell them that enough, and family is something that is temporary, too, but something much less temporary than dates or flirts or even friends sometimes. I love you, family.

 

To Cody,

            You were always stronger than me, and braver, and still are that way, and more willing to put yourself out there, and in many ways I look up to you, to the strength and courage you have that I don’t and maybe never will, but I will always be looking to you for that; and I am sorry that I wasn’t closer to you and that I wasn’t always there for you, and I love you and it’s hard for me to verbalize that because you are braver and stronger and more courageous. We are still young and we can be closer. I love you.

 

I miss the comfort of a lover’s bed

I miss the girl that I once knew

And I miss the idea we created in our heads

More than I have ever missed you

 

To Carson,

            Carson, you have the softest heart in our family by far; with you and me, it’s like the difference between Mother Teresa (you) and Jack Bauer (me); you are a servant and love people and I have to yell all the time or something. Eventually all metaphors break down, and that’s the same with this one. I’m getting off track. Carson, I will always admire your kindness—it’s a true, actual, authentic kindness, one that is very rare, not like the Southern artificial sort of kindness, but you have a gift from God. I will always try to mimic and replicate the soft heart you have. Your heart is one of flesh. I love you.

 

To Mother,

            I know I messed up this Mother’s Day, and I am sorry, and I will eat my cold pie even though it doesn’t taste good. I love you and you know it and it’s weird how much we actually talk, and that I actually call you for advice (and you are always right). When I think of all the mothers in the world, and the jobs they’ve done, it seems like I scored the best one or something, and there’s no handbook for motherhood that’s absolutely correct so I’m guessing you got it all from God, and I thank Him so often for you and dad, because—being here in college—I have been able to see how blessed I am to call you my mother. I love you. Happy Mother’s Day.

 

I can’t believe the secrets that I keep

The scars that you can’t see

Are nothing the like we have unleashed

 

To my Father,

            Dad we are so similar that it is eerie, I think. We have the same mannerisms and people notice it right away. I am very lucky to be similar to such an amazing man. I look like you, but you are sexier; I am very smart like you, but you work a lot harder; I try to love like you, but your love for God and our family is unquenchable and for that I will always thank you, love you, and look up to you. When I have kids some day, I don’t really worry whether or not I’ll be a good father—I know I will because I have you as an example. I love you.

 

I miss the innocence of a purity

I miss the things I never had

I miss the way that I used to be

Before you ever got into my head

 

And now

this post

            is over—