Early Morning Firefly

 by Brian Theoret

Like an early morning firefly a late night bird

Shadows spin in circles the clock strikes ten

Dreaming it goes on in my head...

Fear the akward silence the vicious cycle ends

Lips rumble inside push it out instead

Beneath an umbrella beginning to change

Sweet rain beginning to change...

Like an early morning firefly a late night bird

Beyond my lack in confidence I want to be heard

Oh, I'm standing here you're waiting there

Now, decision made waiting game's done

Scream's now a whisper your ear

Can hear all it wants to

Head rushes to the end light bulb glows dim

Should I start from the end or begin again?

Taking control of this making me dream

Making me dream again...

Like an early morning firefly a late night bird

Beyond my lack in confidence I want to be heard
Sorting out my reverence in a dogwood I perched
Like an early morning firefly a late night bird

Oh, I'm standing here you're waiting there

Now, decision made waiting game's done

Scream's now a whisper your ear

Can hear all it wants to

Oh, I'm standing here you're waiting there

Now, decision made waiting game's done

Scream's now a whisper your ear

Can hear all it wants to

Photo Credits:  www.briantheoret.com

Light Post

by Brian Theoret

I could see the mist

Illuminated by the motion porch light

Feel it on my skin

As it swirled around the yard that night

Shiver down my neck

Like something watching in the dark

Could almost taste the air

Dew heavy storm's comin' tonight

Now it's taking hold the canvas tries to reap its own

And it's leaving me without a place to call home

But it's supposed to

Be my guide my light post

It's supposed to

Be my light at night

And it's supposed to

Be my guide my light post

And it is....

And it's making me see...

Unsettled restless pace

Neighbors spooked staring through the glass

Get me outta this place

Eased by the whiskey in my flask

Now it's taking hold the canvas tries to reap its own

And it's leaving me without a place to call home

But it's supposed to

Be my guide my light post

It's supposed to

Be my light at night

And it's supposed to

Be my guide my light post

And it is....

It's supposed to

Be my guide my light post

It's supposed to

Be my light at night

And it's supposed to

Be my guide my light post

And it is....

And it's making me see...the light.

Photo Credits:  www.pixabay.com

The Watering Can

by Brian Theoret

the year began under patient hand

and it's here that he stands with a watering can.

the boy walked down the dusty lane

dirt under foot and his arms they strained

pales full of water from down the creek

that he went to fetch 5 times a week.

upon his head he wore a cap

a wide brimmed sombrero to be exact.

his hands they were rough from the tumble of weeds

that were the days he tended steeds.

his father was gone most every day

to tend the fields and bale the hay.

so he was left alone himself

as his mother at birth she died on the shelf.

they had a good life with their horses and wheat

and after long days they'd sit down to eat.

the boy and his father so rough on the sides

been each other's favorite to spend with their time.

lamenting the days when they miss momma so.

she brought so much light to the lives she did know.

touched everyone's heart to begin from the start

and father taught son the gentlemanly part.

another year began under patient hand

and it's here that he stands with a watering can.

Photo Credits: www.pixabay.com

Goodnight Wolf Moon

by Brian Theoret

I could see the skeletal shadow of the trees tonight

As the moon shone with an awesome air of light so bright.

Reflecting off the snow the dark hue shone through

Moving, swaying like waltzing crooked fingers urging you to come closer.

Drifts of snow shifted under the weight of the wind

While the light wanes and fades into black.

A pine bough lopped from the main branch

Dragged through the snow

Leaving green prickly bread crumbs 

Almost begging for new life as a wreath.

Bedtime calls when the moon is at its summit

Drawing the covers up to your chin like the water to the shore.

Goodnight wolf moon.

Photo Credits: “Moon Shadows” by Arild Heitmann

A Reflection on Newtown

December 22, 2012

I want to do something. I want to helpease the pain of everyone I can. Every time I see the face of alittle one it reminds me that we all need to hold our loved ones alittle closer this year, and every year. Hold them close and tellthem “I love you”. In a time of so much pain and unbelievableheartache I feel a bit helpless but want to try and do all that Ican. We all must come together and show our love, support, andcompassion for one another.

On our way into Newtown, I wasn't surewhat to feel and didn't know what to expect. When such a sereneplace is turned upside down it makes you wonder how much faith youcan put into humanity.

My first impression of Newtown wasabout how much of a quaint little town it was with little mom and popshops lining the streets and it reminded me a lot of some smallVermont towns I used to visit growing up there.

The amount of support this communityreceived in the wake of such tragedy is something that I will neverforget. Flowers, teddy bears, candles, pictures, Christmas Trees,banners, poems, some from as far away as Hawaii, filled thesidewalks. I'm thankful that I was able to support the communityhowever I could and decided to get a hair cut as I was welloverdue for one.  Many of the children got their hair cut at Fun Kuts so I was happy to see all of the money raised by the Fun Kuts “Cut-a-Thon”went to those in need in the community.

It was such a powerful experience andI'm glad I had the chance to go and pay my respects to a town andcommunity that lost so much but has somehow found a way to standtogether. Together we all stand with you Newtown and Sandy Hook.

Free Writing #1

What's in the way to gain the fame of the name game. The snow fly trouble bubble doubled into one. I try and surface what is under the cover of lightness and fondness and likeness but it takes a moment of stepping back, letting the light hit my face before I realize what it is that I'm really looking at. My realization of numbers and troubles and stubborn fumbles bumps me back awake. I've seen it. I lived it. I saw it from another point of view. I realize now what I've been missing. It's our time to show each other what we're made of. To take this opportunity, a second chance, to bring to light what's wrong in this place. What's missing in this space. What's needing to be replaced. Concentrate my frustration towards something special, towards something beneficial, towards something and enlightening. Bring it to the masses to spread and multiply and create and procreate over and over until what was once spread can now be held together as one. Bring it close to your heart and see what it does. See the warm and feel the sight of it. Keep the view within but share it with your friend. Free write until your fingers bleed and pick up where you left off the day before.

I saw a man

It was 7:45.  65 on the highway, exit 7 and I stop.  I saw a man standing on this same spot holding up a sign the other day "will work for food".  Just trying to make it by for another day.  Could have been anyone in his previous life, before whatever happened...happened.  For sure he's down on his luck.  Did he deserve it?  Maybe it was meant to be.  He could be the nicest man you'd ever meet or the biggest jerk in the world.  Either way, down on his luck.  You can't help but wonder.  Lost his job at the factory.  Let go on Wall Street.  Stop and say hello, throw a dollar or two?  Try to look busy until the traffic light turns green.  You're off and back to what you do.  Every now and again you look back and see someone do what you couldn't.

I saw a man.

Today he's not there.  No sign, no ruffed up dirty shirt and overcoat.  No missing teeth.  No one to wonder about.  No one to avoid eye contact with.  Maybe he made it.  Maybe he didn't.  You put in your time it's late you're tired but nice and warm on this unseasonably cold afternoon.  You wonder what it's like to sleep on the curb when it's 25 degrees.

I saw a man.

Pulling into the driveway of your manicured lawn, sprinklers were meant to be shut off last night.  The driveways' a mess with toys and bikes.  The things we must worry about.  Open the door, give your wife and daughter a kiss.  Your wife got home early, put a fire on and cooked a nice meal, a little cottage pie.  My favorite.  New York Nightly News announcement: "Homeless man down on his luck gets the break he has been waiting for!"

I saw a man.

Can't be so I turn.  Standing with his sign, his ruffed up dirty shirt and overcoat.  Missing teeth smiling from ear to eat.  Now all eyes on him.  Maybe he'll make it.  Maybe he won't.  No more of a need to wonder or even worry.  Just to think.  What would I have done.  How would I have survived.  What would have pulled me into the next day.  Could have been that one person.  That one kind soul.  That one believer that took a chance and bought him a sandwich and a coffee and a $1 ticket to freedom.

I saw a man.

 

Inspiration and The Creative Process

Inspiration tends to come along at in-opportune times. It can be any time of the day and because of that I always have a pen and paper handy. I often find myself jotting down ideas on Post-it Notes or anything I have around me at the time.

Ideas can come from anywhere, whether it's the reversing "beep" of a semi, or a bird flying by my head, listening to NPR, or even just the wind hitting me in the face as I walk down the street.

I tend to write lyrics first trying to keep to some sort of poetic form. Other times I write in free form pouring everything out of my head as fast as I can to get all of the ideas in there out onto the paper.

In terms of the music and melody itself, I find the best way to create them is by playing around with what I know already on the guitar. I make up new phrases in my mind, applying them to the fretboard, or the piano, using my knowledge of music theory to come up with chord progressions that emphasize a sweet spot in my voice.

I like playing around with time signatures as well and try to make them as unique as I possibly can. Utilizing unusual time signatures has always been a means for me to try and stand out and sound just a little different. It tends to create a tension and release sort of a feel in my creations.

There has never been one standard way in which I approach the creative process. It's something that everyone does differently and I'm always intrigued to hear how others find their inspiration.

How do you approach the creative process?

What's in a Name?

How a band comes up with the perfect band name has always been a bit of a mystery to me. Ever since I had the idea in my head to "build" a band and start playing music, thousands of ideas for band names have been flowing through my mind (and still do constantly) and not one has had the decency to stick around and make roots (until now).

"Perfect"

Really, when you think about it, what makes a "perfect" band name? In the whole scheme of things, is it the most important aspect of your band? I would think it's not the most important aspect. To me (and most others I would assume), the most important thing would be the music itself or the message of the music.

In the time it took me to pull up Blogger to begin writing this article, I began to realize that a band name in the whole scheme of things makes no difference at all and is really only a label or identifier for you. It's the vision that draws people in, and the vision that makes someone want to listen to you and pay attention to what you're saying. It's the way you make the audience feel and the way the audience makes you feel that is what it's all about.

I've always been drawn to artists and musicians and authors and creators that have found a way to completely draw me in and gain 150% of my attention.

What draws you in? A name or a message?

What Inspires our Words to Flow?

What inspires our words to flow from our heads like a river flowing down a snow peaked mountain? It could start with a trickle and open up into a deluge of thoughts and feelings and emotions pouring out onto the paper.

Where does this come from? It could come from the faintest smell of a flower or food you used to love, or witnessing someone doing something profound or ordinary as you stroll through the park.

From time to time a memory will pop into my head that inspires me to write write write and I don't want to do anything at all but pour it all out without stopping. That rush is so incredibly addicting and is more powerful then any drug or bottle.

Someone within earshot could say the simplest of things or the street musician I just passed by on my way to Starbucks could cause a chain reaction, striking a chord and causing an explosion of inspiration in my mind. Inspiration can come from anywhere, anyone.

What inspires you?

When asked "How do you grade yourself?"...

When I was recently asked by Derek Sivers "How do you grade yourself?" I wanted to do more then post a comment on Derek's blog post, I wanted to also ask the question myself and see what responses I would got. This is what I came up with.

I tend to do a lot of thinking, whether it's about the exciting (or sometimes unexciting) things I'll be doing during the day, or what goals I have set for myself to accomplish in the next minute/hour/day/week/year.

I find great joy in creating music and I grade my happiness by the quality and not necessarily the quantity of work I accomplish.

When I say work it could mean creating a new concept for some album cover art, or laying down a new track for a newly created tune, or remixing some previously recording material bringing it ever closer to a "final product" that I can be happy with and one that speaks to people. My ultimate goal is to create something that speaks to people, something that moves them and makes them feel the way I feel when something moves me. That feeling is indescribable and is what I crave every moment of my life. The more moved I am, the more I tend to be happy.

How do you grade yourself?

What moves you?

An Impromptu Mind Explosion...

I sit still and let every outside influence, every sound, every sight, every minuscule inhabitant, whether conscious or not, leave my mind's eye. The ebb and flow .... interruption .... phone rings, done .... ebb and flow.

The DIY (DIM) Musician

The Do It Yourself (Do It Myself) Musician of now has so many more options and loads and loads of opportunity waiting to knock on your door these days.

I've been thinking about how exciting it would be to do everything myself and the accomplishments (and some good ol' experience) I would have under my belt at the "end" and think that is worth every headache, every heartache, every splinter, every broken string, every soar throat, soar wrist, soar eyes and ears and is what I am doing right now.

I've been told that stating what you are doing and what your goals are tend to lead towards a lazy attitude in the end and tends to, whether subconscious or not, make people less apt to finish what they started. I truly believe that can be an accurate statement but I just wanted to fill you all in with what is on the horizon for me and Notes in the Sandbox.

I stumbled upon (thanks to Google Reader and more specifically this instructable) this great idea for the DIY musician. In my mind, this is brilliant! Absolutely BRILLIANT and I can't wait to show everyone what I've come up with. This is so exciting I can hardly contain myself. Thanks for listening!

If you want more NITS join our Street Team or let me know what you're thinking here.

The Right Fit

Drinking my coffee this morning (no amount of cream and sugar could make this coffee taste good...YUCK!) and checking my email I came across an article in the Stamford Advocate regarding a local band which at the moment I can't remember the name of, but hopefully by the end of this posting I will have remembered.

This was a band from just outside of Connecticut in a town in New York. The article didn't get into detail as to how they made it to where they are today, but they were lucky enough (and good enough from what I hear) to be opening for Better Than Ezra last night at Alive @ 5 in downtown Stamford. I've been living in Stamford for almost 5 years now and I still have not made it downtown for the weekly Thursday night showcase that happens throughout the summer months.

What I'm trying to get at is this...

Local original music is definitely not dead in this town and it surprises me and makes me happy to know and finally realize this. What I took from all this is although the barriers and walls are all around a musician just starting out in this town and this area, there still is a chance the right path can be found or blazed with determination.

Now that I got that thought out of my head and onto paper...

Looking back at my previous post, and being a bit of a blog novice I am feeling a bit limited and freed by this blog all in the same instance. Having never done this before I don't know what the "protocol" is or what I should or shouldn't say, and yet I feel like I can say anything that I want. This internal conflict energizes me and excites me to want to blog more and more.

Now that I got THAT thought out of my head and onto paper...onto "The Right Fit"...

Searching around this area for bass players and keyboard players and drummers and lead guitarists and fiddle players and kazoo players and the like is quite the daunting task. To find the right person, one who has the same ideals or who is into the same music, and one that enjoys playing the same music that you do has proven to be a lot harder then I ever imagined. I was lucky enough to find a drummer right from the start that basically wants everything that I want. He likes some of the same music that I do and yet brings other music to the table that I wasn't necessarily avoiding, but probably wouldn't have ever thought to bring to the table. I do the same for him as well. It always leads to great rehearsals and great conversation after our rehearsals. I know it's cliche but I guess the best advice I could give to myself would be to just stick my nose to the grindstone and keep posting those craigslist ads, keep chatting to as many people as I can about the band to try and gain some interest, keep playing out as much as we can even if we don't have a full line-up and keep posting those Audition Flyers at all the local music stores and grocery stores and on any and all bulletin boards around town. That is the only advice that I can give myself.

What to say, what not to say, and other NITS and Notes

Hello WWW. My name is Brian. I'm pretty new to this whole idea of blogging and thought I would give it a try. So here I go...

I've never been one to have a whole lot to say (out loud anyways) and for the most part am much more of a thinker than a speaker. I find myself writing drafts, reading them over, making drafts of my drafts, reading them over, and making drafts of the drafts that I already drafted. I find by doing this I eventually can get out of me what I was originally trying to say.

These ideas tend to come in spurts and I am always writing things down. In this blog alone I've probably deleted as much as I've written already, if that makes any sense at all.

You should see the massive piles of post-it notes that are constantly swirling around my room, my desk, my guitar case, my pockets, my mind, and anywhere else those pesky post-its eventually end up.

It's really quite amazing I get anything done at all.

For those of you who don't know me, I am a banker by day and a musician every other moment of my life. I am the lead singer/songwriter for a group called Notes In The Sandbox. If you were to ask me what we sounded like, I would say we are a mix between Neil Young, Bob Dylan, and Dave Matthews Band, or the DaveYoungDylan Band for short. It's been a long arduous road to get where I am now, searching for those willing to take a chance on my music.

We are almost there.

Through our travels I will be documenting every last tid-bit and I am so excited, tickled you could say, that we are definitely almost there. Looking forward to seeing you all along the way.

Thanks so much!!

NITS Notes (NITS is short for Notes in the Sandbox)

www.isound.com/notes_in_the_sandbox