Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Community Interaction
For my community interaction I will preform at the Art Show in Mansfield Center on May 8th. This obviously relates to my topic because my topic is music and I will be supplying music to the art show and entertaining the people. I preformed there last year and it was very enjoyable; I plan on playing at the same store. I will record my performance and ask people to write a review on how the music added to the atmosphere of the show and if they enjoyed it.Posted by Taylor M. at 10:14 AM 1 comments
Friday, April 11, 2008
"I am"

I am honest;
I am secretive.
I am a peace loving hippie;
I am a fan of capital punishment.
I am a giver of advice;
I am a stealer of the covers.
I repair broken hearts;
I break some of my own.
I am cynical of man;
I am optimistic of his fate.
I am addicted to the sun;
I burn really easily.
I am loud and outgoing;
I hate onions;
I adore French Onion Soup.
I am tough and hard-headed;
I am compassionate and sensitive.
I am me.
Posted by Taylor M. at 8:53 AM 1 comments
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Self-Portrait

I could have stayed there all day.
And so could’ve he.
But as the lazy sun drifted downhill we would make our way up-
Up those long stairs that we all knew so well.
And I would talk about this and that and he would listen with a patience not many understood.
To my young, always searching eyes, he was the silent pinnacle of the family for one moment and a comedic genius the next.
For him the baseball game was always on and the tea was always hot – sneaking cookies on sly because he knew he could.
Doing all those small things that my mother inherited and that I will pass on to my children
But there is one smell – a mixture of salt and sand, tea and ginger snaps,
Posted by Taylor M. at 4:33 PM 1 comments
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
My Declaration
Posted by Taylor M. at 12:34 PM 0 comments
'In Tune'
“What can I get you sir?” asked the bartender“Whiskey” was his obvious reply, I was always falling for the cowboy type; he had whiskey on his breath, a skol can stain on his old blue jeans, a well worn cowboy hat on his head. I couldn’t help but stare, something about his demeanor was intriguing. I wanted to know everything.
“We have a special guest tonight to sing for us, Otis Tucker everyone!”
Naturally he was a singer, musicians seem to be my weakness; hopefully he doesn’t sing a love song, I can’t afford to fall in love again. I decided I was now in desperate need for a shot of whiskey.
“This one is called ‘I’m still a guy’” he announced to the hazy room. It turned out to be an anthem for the type of men that I choose:
‘And I'll pour out my heart, Hold your hand in the car,
These days there's dudes gettin' facials,
His was becoming more and more perfect to me everytime I heard another chord on his gutiar. The perfect man that I wanted to be with was on the stage, sensitive and manly; I knew I had to talk to him after his set. Suddenly the mood in the room changed, “This one is a little slower, its called ‘She’s Everyting’”.
Oh no, this was it, the love song, the love song that would cause my down fall; I had not been very successful in resisting him in the first place never mind with his singing a beautiful love song! And then it began:
‘She's a warm conversation
The girl he described in his song was the girl I wanted to be; I wanted him to want to hear my voice when we were ninety, I wanted him to want to me to be his everything. Great, he made me fall for him, last time this happened I ended up leaving. Musicians have this great quality for never being around and cowboys have this great tendency to drink all night every night, the combination is deadly for a relationship.
‘Well love makes a man do some things he ain't proud of
I am willing to give up looking tough all the time for love because I know that her happiness is more important than my own. She doesn’t know this but I would even give up fishing one weekend a month to go furniture shopping with her, maybe.
She was watching me and I was watching her, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
My next song was sure to make her at least want to talk to me, hopefully. If I was lucky this love song would at least make her pay attention to me. “She’s Everything” is the kind of song that is about a great love but it is not too sappy, I prayed that she loved it. As I sang, I looked directly into her eyes when I sang:
‘She's the answer to my prayer
I watched her reaction, she tried to hide it but I could tell she was starting to listen, really listen to my song.
I walked off my set and toward the most beautiful girl in the room; I wanted so badly just to kiss her lips, to tell her everything she wanted to know. All I could seem to muster was a simple “Hello”
I cannot believe that he came over to me and said ‘hello’! I was so nervous I could barely reply. I wanted so badly for him to kiss me; I wanted to ask him everything that I ever wanted to know about him. Despite my nerves I asked him if he would like to get a drink with me; he said yes and we went to the bar. We spent the night talking about our dreams, fears, passions. We decided to go out again.
His music, the feeling, and the meaning, and the realness behind his songs caused me to fall for him. Six months later we were married and touring the world. Finally my dream had come true a loyal, musically talented, compassionate, hardy man had fallen as deeply in love with me as I was with him.
Posted by Taylor M. at 7:10 AM 0 comments
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Timothy White: Bruce Springsteen, Malibu, California, 1991
The light rain was warm like kisses on my skin. Summer, our favorite time of year, was in full bloom and I knew that later I would be wrapped his arms, safe. John was turning twenty-two today and we decided that a small fuss, dinner, just the two of us, would be the perfect way to celebrate his birthday. I can feel my nerves bubbling up in my stomach like bad fish, I might be sick. John and I have been dating for three years; today, I am giving him a promise ring, a promise to be there always, as friends, lovers, soul mates. I knew that John planned our anniversary to be the same day as his birth, he would never forget it that way, and besides he hates receiving gifts from me and not giving any in return. My pocket weighed a thousand pounds. What if he hates it; what if he can’t love me forever; should I really give him such a big present? I just wanted nothing more than to see his strong face near mine; I needed him.
It felt like three days had passed since I last checked my watch, Tiffany & Co. it was John’s present to me last year. Five minutes! John should have been here three minutes ago! All I could think was something awful happened to him, it was highly unusual for John to be late, to anything. I heard my name being called, when I turned my head, a father calling his daughter. What was keeping him? Then I saw the most beautiful site in my life, John was running down the beach, clearly he knew he was late. ‘I’m so sorry’ he repeated over and over again; I had no reason to be angry at him, the delay was out of his control, I knew that.
This year, John gave me a Kassite Gold Bracelet, it was beautiful. The bracelet was bitter sweet, it was beautiful no doubt but it reminded me of his long journey every time I looked at it. I took a deep breath and presented my tiny box to him, he opened it; ‘it’s a promise ring’ I whispered. ‘I love it, and I promise, as long as I live, and far after that I will love you and care for you always’. I was so happy that I decided to spin in the warm summer rain. He grabbed my hand and joined me in my spinning. The two of us, spinning on the shore of that beach so much in love, so young not knowing or caring what tomorrow will bring.
Two days later, John was deployed to Iraq again, for another year and a half. The night he left, it rained. I went to the beach and sat on the sand where we shared our love for the first time in a year and I cried harder than the hurricane rains could fall. Once in a while, John would write, send me songs he had composed in the time he was not fending for his life and my freedom. On lonely nights, which were most nights that year, I would imagine him, playing his guitar peacefully, surrounded by warfare and death, wearing our promise on his finger; he was reminded of me through the hard times and I of him. I prayed every night, every day, that I would see his strong face again.
John was buried in his ring, it never turned into a wedding ring; his death took him away too soon. The funeral was one for a fallen soldier and for me. With John and his promise, a part of my heart and soul was buried that cold October morning. Still I sit at the site of our last reunion, the beach, the sand, the ocean, they have not changed and I can see John spinning, I can see him playing his guitar; I can see him kissing his ring praying that it is my face soon. I can see my John, strong, brave, free.
-टेलर Murphy
Posted by Taylor M. at 3:12 PM 2 comments
Friday, February 15, 2008
Music Moves Us

Posted by Taylor M. at 10:23 AM 5 comments
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Alfred Alexander Gockel - Around Midnight

Posted by Taylor M. at 2:42 PM 0 comments



