What I'll Remember Most

The saddest songs are the happiest
The hardest truths are the easiest
Put us both to the test
And tell me if you still need me
And I will swallow these words
And see if I can still believe

The biggest lies are the little ones
When the look in your eyes is the distant one
Angel or demon
You know that they can share one bed
I’ve laid awake so long
I’ve got them both inside my head

This is what I’ll remember most about dying
So many moments like ghosts
Slipping through my hands in vain
You were 80% angel
10% demon
The rest was hard to explain

This American dream may be poisonous
Violence is contagious
Crowded or empty
I walk these city streets alone
Whoever brought me here
Is gonna have to take me home

This is what I’ll remember most about dying
Loading these moments like a gun
Hoping to kill the pain
You were 80% angel
10% demon
The rest was hard to explain


~Over the Rhine

Last Night

Mercy. The mind is a wonderful thing, but at times memory is too forward, too accurate, too sharp and the imagination is too suggestive and the heart is too filled with doubt. Thankfully my brother had been there to (unwittingly and preemptively) save me, like he usually is. I am so un-expressibly thankful for him.

Even with that watery eyed bit, last night was very nice. My brother and I went downtown for Mediterranean pizzas (2.99 on Tuesdays). He was still recovering from all the joy surrounding his big show on Sunday night, and experiencing a lack of sleep, so he was feeling a bit off too. There are things to help these sorts of moods: There were hugs. And cracked pepper chips. Then we went to his house and watched my recently arrived copy of La Vie en Rose. I am so glad that Marion Cotillard won best Actress for her role in that film. I was amazed. And for such a sad movie, I didn't leave with that enormous sinking feeling like I usually would have, but rather I left with a greater portion of the purposefulness that has been welling up inside me lately and a deep understanding of my heart's capacity to love.

For someone who loves the past deeply, it can be hard to keep it in it's place. But when my present and future are filled with such wonderful things, it becomes as easy as pie to refuse the past any more of my time than it deserves. I want the future to be informed by the past, not to be determined by it. I want to draw inspiration from it, not be defined by it.

Some excellent things for me to anticipate . . .

18 days until my best friend Bethany gets married. I'll be the maid of honor in the green gown.

30 days until I get to go to Memphis, a city I love, to see Arcade Fire in a Turn-of-the-Century Opera House with that person who is always willing to travel to concerts with me: Josh. I will introduce him to the Heartland Hill.

46 days until my baby brothers graduate from Belmont. Bio-Chemistry and Molecular Biology for Luke, and Art and Religion and the Arts for Gabe.

53 days until my good friends' wedding. I illustrated their invites.

61 days until Gabe and I finally meet up with Over the Rhine.

66 days until my baby-est of brothers, Luke, marries the greatest girl in the world, Chelsey.

98 days until I stand under the stars in the best city ever with some of my favorite people ever watching my favorite band ever: U2 at Vanderbilt's tiny stadium with Mom, Dad, Luke, Chelsey, and Josh.


I've been listening to City of Blinding Lights on repeat until it has excited my heart into my throat. Mercy. I'm out of control. And it's good for me to not be in control.

For now I'll have to be content to spend the evening with my brother getting Tuesday night special pizzas downtown and watching French films. Bonsoir.

My experimental sketching regimen is going quite well, as you can see from the plethora of images you get bombarded with weekly. The only problem is this: what do I do with all these sketches? Keep them in a book withering away into nothingness? Nope. I want to release them into the world for whomever may want to adopt one.

And they can be adopted rather cheaply, I might add.

You can choose any New Year's Sketch for $55 unframed. If you would prefer a framed sketch, but have neither the time or want to to get it framed yourself, you can talk to me about how much it will cost to get it framed for you. I like to think I am a frugal frame-finder.

This is a really great price for these pieces, and each drawing is the only existing copy! Hurry! You can see all the New Year's Sketches here: http://www.meiskastarner.com/p/new-years-resolution-sketches.html