Seeing is believing

Seeing is believing
or so the saying goes,
but it may be the other way around.
In order to see.
you must believe,
because your horizon fits
around your view
of who you are.
So don’t be afraid
to believe you can do great things—
or at least more than you think you can—
and mountains will push back,
lakes deepen with reflections
of trees aflame with gold,
and snow drifting against
brilliant blue skies
till you can’t tell
which is simple reflection,
because everything you see sharpens
into brilliant hues of light and shadow.
Don’t let fears frame
your world too small;
the widest horizon
can be revealed,
in even the smallest detail,
if you only have the courage
to see
with your own eyes.

Toy Camera

If only life could be like that
sometimes,
just blurred at the edges,
slightly out of focus,
a tiny bit fogged,
and those people in your frame
caught looking,
harmless, like cartoon characters,
and the surprises
you couldn’t see
when you snapped the shutter,
guessing at focus, exposure—
how the sun glows softly,
and shadows spread like coffee,
and all life’s multitude of grays
shimmer like silk scarves
and dance in summer’s breeze.

Photography

A photograph is more than just
A gift to bring or send.
And more than just the likeness of
A relative or friend.

It is a kindly greeting and
A memory to hold.
Of happy times and pleasant things.
However new or old.

It is a mirror that reflects
Companionship and cheer.
And now and then the wistfulness
That turns into a tear.

A photograph is something to
Adorn a desk or wall.
Or carry in a pocket and
Display to one and all.

It is a faithful portrait
The smile that friendship shares
To add its sunshine and to show
That someone really cares.

Fleet Foxes Will Steal Your Heart

Last Monday night I chanced upon a band that quite easily became my latest local favorite. It was an unexpected outing at the behest of my brother and some friends, who swore up and down that this show would bring true enchantment. And as witness to Fleet Foxes' first show, I can happily confirm that they were oh-so right.

Okay, truth be told, it wasn't quite the first Fleet Foxes show. They played a show earlier this year up in Shoreline but, in the words of frontman Robin Pecknold, "That doesn't really count, now does it?" Regardless of chronological details, the show I saw was immensely impressive for so early in a band's life. The entire band exhibits an onstage ease that belies their young age, both as a band and as individuals (the average age of a Fleet Fox being a tender twenty-and-three-quarters).

Their delightful, pop-styled songs sounded tight but not rigid and got the crowd swaying along straightaway. With bell-toned guitars, bright keyboards, and a dash of shimmer round the edges, Fleet Foxes craft deliciously melody-driven songs that are intensely charming. Lyrics reference textbooks, classrooms, and Romeos on bicycles, all without sounding twee or absurd. And Robin's voice brings it all together — his vocals are sweet and yet solid, with a rich warmth that seals the deal.

Fleet Foxes are so newly born that the only place you can find them right now is on Myspace (though I expect that this will change very very soon). And while they don't have an official record out yet, they've been selling self-released EPs at their shows — even more incentive to see them live posthaste. With two shows already scheduled in the coming months (March 14 at Chop Suey, and April 5 at the Croc), allow Fleet Foxes to fill your springtime social calendar.

Love, we were young once, and ran races
over rough ground in our best shiny shoes,
we kicked at stones, we fell over, pulled faces.

Our knees were filthy with our secret places,
with rituals and ranks, with strategy and ruse.
Love, we were young once and ran races

to determine the most rudimentary of graces
such as strength and speed and the ability to bruise.
We kicked at stones, we fell over, pulled faces,

and doing so left no permanent traces
because we fought and fell only to confuse
love. We were young. Once we ran races

in ghettos, in camps, in the dismal spaces
of the imagination reserved for Jews.
We kicked at stones, we fell over, pulled faces

at elastic braces, shoelaces, empty packing cases
as if they were the expressions we could choose.
Love, we were young once, and ran races.
We kicked at stones, we fell over, we pulled faces.