clark debonair.

Right this very moment, I sit. I sit on my couch in my apartment, and I watch TV. It’s been a great quarter.

This morning, I registered for Practice Court. I registered, and so it’s now registering with me how full-circle the Baylor Law School experience is coming.

There are some exciting things on tap for this year. But, a lot stands between me and those goals and milestones. I probably shouldn’t be looking at it that way. I should even savor this time that’s sure to stretch and stress me. Odds are that I won’t–that I’ll grow complacent even when I’m in constant motion. I hope to understand that life isn’t all about moving forward. Sometimes it’s about the striving in the day at hand as opposed to constantly looking toward milestones. My point to myself is that it’s not an all or nothing approach. I must actively understand that life is best when viewed in terms of future, past, and present together–not one to the exclusion of the others.

I have been lavished with blessing in 2009. I look back to those good things, and I look forward. I also look to the essence of each day as it unfolds. Right now, the circumstances are perfect for the triune view. The weather is cold, my abode is warm and I’m fresh with holiday cheer that comes from spending time with friends and family. As the weather outside registers a higher temperature, indicating a new season, I arise to new tasks and new challenges. I am truly excited. I’m positive that there are many things that I won’t enjoy, but I sincerely hope that with the pain and sleeplessness I become a better person. That means that I hope I come out on the other side more determined to be balanced and to excel professionally. I hope all the sweat and blood truly yields a better, more competent person.

As it stands, I will proceed as though it will. However, if it registers that the events of the coming months are just some sort of unbelievable exercise in a twisted game, I’m prepared to tackle that at its face value. Either way, I hope that I keep the most positive outlook possible. As the recurring optimist in me thinks, I should weather life’s storms better if only I keep an agreeable view of things. It’s an active choice I intend to make as often as I remember to do so. May it be often.

[Photo is in the heart of Santa Fe from my weekend trip in Summer 2009.]

Personally, there are many accessible memories and impressions that make this season such an anticipated one each and every time another year is added to my experience.

Historically, people have celebrated this time for millennia for any number of reasons. The Winter Solstice is a heavy time, weighted down with much significance. I don’t know if its origin of meaning can be traced back to viking-like peoples lighting pyres on the shortest day of the year and worshiping evergreen trees for their power to live as heartily as people learned to do. I don’t know if the Christian origin explains everything just perfectly either. I know that the latter is important to me beyond the limitations of my belief. I know that the latter intrigues me very much. Their intertwinings are what I know to be Christmas in modern times, some of the meaning and essence displaced by rituals and facilities of modernity.

A comment is all I have for now. Hopefully, I’ll have more time to reflect upon this subject later.

I still fantasize what it’d be like to live life as a musician.

If you’ve been with me for a little while, you’ll notice this is the third consecutive post incorporating music in some shape or fashion. 3 out of the last 5 posts, in fact, have done just this.

I was talking to my friend David over the weekend at his Saturday (the 14th) show in Waco at Hemingway’s. I hadn’t seen him in quite some time–we had fallen out of touch, though I keep apprised as to his music and follow him on Twitter. It came up in conversation as to why I hadn’t gone the way of music–how I had ventured into law. Frankly, I’ve thought about this a lot. It’s simple; I’ve had to explain it in interviews when people look at my resume.

I realized that there was only the tiniest possibility that I would ever make it in life as a musician. I couldn’t perform or teach music for a living. I loved being around the people that excel in music–the people I consider to be practicing, functioning musicians. But, I couldn’t crack it for myself. I knew that I was destined to be one of the many students of music whose highest hope is to be part of an ensemble on a weekly basis.

And, the conversation continued, David sagely pointed out that music is just as much about the people creating music as it is about the people consuming and supporting music. I’ve known this, and I’ve taken comfort it, but I had never heard the same from a musician that I personally know and respect as both an artist and as a human being.

I’ve known almost innately how important the arts are, how they enhance the experience of the human condition. I’ve been on both sides of the stage. And, I know that I must always be an advocate for the artist and his art. Wherever I may find myself, it’s not the large interests of an industry I’m concerned about. It’s about David carting his guitar around the country with little more than the clothes on his back. He’s got no money because he just spent his last eight dollars on gas, and he’s plugging in wherever there’s a mic and some speakers, hoping to get some free beers, sell some CDs, and maybe land a place to crash on the couch of some kindred spirit.

Anyone who’s ever read Kerouac’s “On The Road” knows just what I’m trying to get at. And, I think if it ever becomes impossible for vagabonds like David to live their craft from place to place, then America has become something irreparably irrecognizable from the romance that Kerouac saw on the roads of my beloved country. And, I think it’s safe to say, when we mark that day that the Davids of America can no longer wayfare about–that day would be a very silent, cool day. One where I wouldn’t even know to shed a tear–because it would be too real of a loss.