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Posted by Gordon Roqué at 10:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
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This week, I start promoting my performance at Pride Charlotte in Charlotte, NC on October 2. I've mentioned in a few recent posts that I've been delving more into my visual art work. As a result, I decided to draw and design the promotional poster for my performance.
This little project was a labor love full of asbstraction and whimsy, and with a sigh of relief, the end result is pretty satisfying for me.
I have other pieces I am working on. This is just an understated suggestion of what is to come . . .
Stay tuned. More shapes and colors are taking form.
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 09:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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So, I thought I'd take a few moments this morning to share a few of my favorite KINDS of things. Though not anything specific, these are objects and places that enrich my spirit whenever I either stumble upon them or make a pilgrimage to seek them out.
These things give me great joy . . .
Seashores that cling to the ocean.
Photo Credit
Trees that cradle houses.
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The shape, the richness, and the sound of a cello.
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A garden made with diligent caring.
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Orchids painted with subtle grace.
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The sound, all giddy and musical, of children laughing.
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Elephants--mighty, gentle, and strong . . .
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Pint-sized domesticated lions.
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Wooden boxes that make magic and summon spirits.
The world is full of beautiful things. I always try to take the time to enjoy them.
Soak them in. Consume them.
The flavors are sweet and smile-inducing.
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 12:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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Earlier this week, I added a new item to my music Merch Store. It is the official promo poster for my album "Seahorses". The original image was a photo beautifully taken by my sister Lullette M. that was part of the artwork for the CD insert.
Here is one of the images of the tree but with me standing next to it . . .
Once it was placed into the hands of a talented graphic artist named Benjamin Rumble here in Nashville, the end result was this:
The poster is a glossy 11X17 masterpiece, and it is available for only $6.00 (includes shipping and handling) while supplies last. All of the proceeds go to support my music.
Again, you can go HERE to purchase it.
It's Friday, folks. Hope your weekend will be an awesome one!!
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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Last week, I bought a giraffe. That's right. I bought a giraffe. Over the last couple of weeks, I noticed a large antique mall that I had never visited before off of Wedgewood Ave. in downtown Nashville. I like to attack antique shops to look for a cool painting or two. When I finally went into this place, I had walked through each booth growing more and more disappointed at not finding ANY artwork that appealed to me.
Then, at one point, I reached a large corner booth and started to glare at every object, as I've been prone to doing lately. There was a sizable wooden dining table in the middle of everything, and there she stood. I was surprised that I didn't notice her first because she's a little bit tall. Adorned in pastel green and blue stripes, I just marveled at her. I have a fondness for objects that have a fun and whimsical quality about them. She looked like she just stepped off a boat that came from an island with a magical forest. Standing at a lanky height of 3'4", she had a formidable presence about her.
I wanted her, but I thought to myself, "Asian, what in the world would you do with a giraffe?". Her $12 price tag wasn't already enough to convince me to buy her, and so, I decided to walk around some more and think about it. I'm not one to spend my money frivolously, and so, every cent is carefully doled out.
I whipped around to the front of the building where I found an old piano. One of the store's clerks invited me to play, and I briefly did. Afterwards, I mentioned my interest in the giraffe, and he said something that sealed the deal. He said, sure, she will not have much practical usefulness, but, will she make you happy?
The only answer I could think of was "Yes." So, I walked with purpose back to that booth and grabbed her. When I held her in my hands and carried her back to the cash register, I was thinking that this was probably what it felt like to be crowned Miss Universe and do a victory walk in front of thousands of people. There's this sense of self-awareness and a feeling that something very special has just happened.
I can only imagine how silly I must have looked holding this huge giraffe in my hand and smiling from ear-to-ear. That's okay. Life needs to be silly once in a while. :-)
Thankfully, she didn't mind doing a little photo shoot the other day in a corner of my room by my window.
I love this giraffe so much. Here is a full body shot. She is a statuesque beauty.
Sigh.
I swear. Every time I look over at her, I can't help but smile. She was truly a worthwhile investment.
I might even make her a stylish little shawl. How dorktastic is that!!?!
Oreo and Buttercup were apprehensive at first because she towers over them. They warmed up once they got to know her.
The clerk at the antique mall said that all objects have an energy about them. They carry their own history and heritage wherever they go.
Edith, as I have now named her thanks to my friend PSBChris, is a bit worn in some places. This is, perhaps, evidence of a long, rough journey from a distant, far-off place.
She has a home now, and she and I will take care of each other for as long as possible.
Thinking back. I think she chose me. I heard her call and answered it.
I am so glad that I did.
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 11:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)
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Whenever I walk into a room I've never entered before, I usually seek out a window. It is generally the primary source of natural light in any indoor space. Once in a while, just like the image above, you practically see the light pouring in. What might seem very cold and lifeless suddenly blooms with luminosity.
If it were up to me, every room would have a window.
Rays flow in like the sound of a thumb and his fingers skipping gingerly up to the lighter side of a piano.
The mood of the room changes with this natural flow.
Sometimes, this change is dramatic.
Or, oh so subtle.
It's something I think about often, actually--the quiet ways that light fill up a room.
Shadows seek refuge.
The outside looks in.
Darkness needs a way out while life, in all it's color and splendor, needs an entrance.
Have you seen a window lately?
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 12:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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Posted by Gordon Roqué at 10:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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As I mentioned a few blogposts ago, I've had a rush of creative energy lately. The image you see above is of a birthday card I made for a lovely newly-turned 5-year-old named Sophia. She is the daughter of my friends Leigh and Chris up in Seattle, Washington. I love making birthday and greeting cards.
One on-going project that has taken a few months is a scarf that I am making for my "dominating" Persian friend Michael. (Yeah, that's how he is. I don't get it either.) I was not happy with the original version of this scarf, and so I started all over with new colors. He is a dark and brooding kind of guy, and so I thought it best to infuse some lightness. This scarf is still a work in progress, and luckily, it's been hot as hell here in Nashville lately. It will be ready by the fall.
I've also started knitting little squares that I will more or less stitch together to make a cover for my dust-magnet of a keyboard. I have five done and oh, only about sixty or so left to go. Yeesh.
In my last couple of posts, I mentioned that I go for long walks in the morning. I also like to ride my bike. I found these Adidas at a local store at 50% off. I am now fully equipped for my outdoor adventures. Oreo and Buttercup approve.
I caught a quiet moment with my niece. Sometimes she falls asleep in my bed. Sigh.
So there you have it. I can't seem to stop working on different things. I'm also preparing music for a new album at the moment.
Life is full and beautiful.
:-)
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 09:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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It's been a long and impossibly heavy week for me, but I've been doing small things to help sustain my spirit.
The mornings have become my favorite part of the day. All is quiet and serene. I get to wander slowly into wakefulness.
Last Monday, as I've been doing at least 4 or 5 times a week lately, I went out for my morning walk.
I brought along my camera and found beauty in the seemingly mundane.
Like this . . .
A wagon that seems to have drained the blue from the sky . . .
Another wagon, albeit a pint-sized one . . .
A warning to tread carefully and prepare to stop. I wish I could have seen more of these signs lately . . .
A lone bottle floating on a sea of grass . . .
The tangled web we weave . . .
A crouching tiger, hidden hydrant . . .
Then, of course, she rises as houses curl under the trees to preserve a few final moments of slumber . . .
Every morning these days, I get myself ready and composed for the day ahead. I feel much like a warrior preparing for battle, except with a sense of calm and a bit more courage.
The mornings are mine. I claim them. My spirit grows stronger with each awakening.
The sunlight pours through my window, embracing me.
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 11:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
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Whenever August rolls around, I give myself a lot of time for self-reflection. I take quiet walks in the early morning through my neighborhood. I turn off the radio when I'm driving and let the silent humming of my car lull me into thoughtfulness.
I do all of this all year round, but the month of August holds a special significance. It is the month of my birthday. Born August 28, I am a Virgo. When I was younger, I always celebrated my birthday during the first week of school. This occasion has always brought to my mind the ending of things.
The end of summer.
The end of days spent riding my bike anywhere that I wanted to.
The end of afternoons getting lost in a book and doing little else.
The end of a year in my life.
A sense of finality tends to weigh heavily upon me.
For this reason, it is also a time of reckoning. There was an August many moons ago when I decided to leave a non-profit job that I deeply loved at a place called Time Out Youth in order to start planting seeds to make the artistic leaps and bounds I was hungry to make. I was the Youth Programs Director at this organization that served the needs of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender youth from the ages of 13 through 23. I ran a weekly support group and got the chance to work with some amazing people. Leaving that job was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I put my notice in on my birthday.
There was an August many moons ago when I decided that I only want to include things in my life that really matter to me and to be rid of the extraneous. Time spent watching TV was minimized to nearly nothing, and time spent exercising and with friends became more consistent.
This August, my thoughts linger around the idea of living a balanced life. I am cultivating the idea of making the time for family, friends, my music and performing, and for myself. In light of all that I want to do (there is A LOT that I want to do), I want to be able to look back on my life and know that I made time for what truly mattered to me. These thoughts abound, and I am about to make seismic shifts in my life to make it happen.
The other night, during a rare moment of tv-watching, I found something beautiful. I was watching the end of an episode of the dance competition "So You Think You Can Dance". The contestant Kent Boyd (and dancer Neil Haskall) was linked with a talented choreographer named Travis Wall to perform a contemporary piece.
The song used for it is called "How It Ends" and comes from an artist named DeVotchka. Seeing this brought into focus a lot of what's been on my mind lately . . .
The story depicted in this performance is very brutal, but it brings to mind the intensity and the struggle that comes with the ending of things. It's often not easy even though it is very necessary.
I have more quiet moments to come and many more miles to privately walk. I will struggle with my own endings but continue to walk nonetheless.
Besides, the best thing about an ending is that it is always just a prelude to a new, and often very different, beginning.
Posted by Gordon Roqué at 09:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
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