Songwriting

Along with many numerous writing goals I have, one of them is to be a songwriter. Tonight I was listening to my country jams on http://www.pandora.com/ (check out this site if you don't know about it), when I heard a song I wish I had written. It's Dierks Bentley's "Gonna Get There Someday" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btTRSeI4d5Y

The simplicity of the words in this song spoke directly to my soul. I stopped what I was doing and listened intently. When I hear a song I like, I always look to see who wrote it. Usually, I want to know the songwriter's inspiration.

Songwriting appeals to me because it allows me to tell a story in a compact way. You have three minutes flat (maybe more or less) to make your point.

I have notebooks strewn about with lines waiting to be sung. Some of these thoughts are complete, sometimes they are just the seed to a story waiting to blossom. Sometimes they are in Spanish or English.

Below are some lines I wrote recently. Who knows they might make into a story or song someday soon?

Making Memories:

Today I woke up and I wanted to make a memory with you...

Nostalgia:

...Esta nostalgia es una compañera que aparece sin aviso y a veces se queda conmigo inesperadamente. Es una compañera que sabe lo tanto que te quise y te ame. La nostalgia es lo único que tengo de recuerdo de nuestro amor. Una nostalgia que no se va porque ahora ella y yo estamos unidas. A veces si me deja sola y puedo olvidar y continuar con mi vida. Pero cuando viene a quedarse conmigo a veces la invito que se quede mas y otras veces le cierro la puerta esperando que se vaya y no regrese. Es a veces un trago amargo o una dulce memoria dependiendo de las circunstancias. A veces si me da un aviso que allí viene pero la mayoría del tiempo viene sin que yo la reconozca y aparece. La nostalgia a veces me mata lentamente...

Not So Random Thought #3 - Don't Have to Go Far for Inspiration

Why make up stuff to write when I can write about my familia? Heard about some family drama and the stuff is so good that it's unreal.

Tension, conflict, lies, and heartache -- yep, that involves a recent story about the familia. Sometimes I think people create a novela just cause they can.

For all these family stories, I appreciate my non-novela life. It's very relaxing, aahhhh.

Dios Mio

Today I was reminded of my own mortality. I flew to the last class I had in my Texas Public Policy & Candidate Training Program, a joint program by Las Comadres Para Las Americas and the UT LBJ School of Public Policy. I’ll write about this program in the near future too, but I have to share what happened with me today.

I have flown several times, enough where it has become routine for me. Today I was expecting nothing different. Minutes prior to landing, the flight attendants started telling us we were going to have an emergency landing. They told us to immediately move to the back of the plane and sit down and assume the braced position. They told us where to place our hands and head. I did what I was told not knowing what to expect.

As I was sitting there in a braced position, I started thinking and praying. I had a thousand thoughts running through my mind. I thought I should have driven instead of flown. I only flew because my car’s breaks were squeaky and my friends were telling me that it could be dangerous driving. I thought about the things I still had left to do. I always tell people I have a list of things to do before I die. I thought about my family. I told God I wasn’t ready yet but that if he could to prepare me. I told him I loved him but I wasn’t ready to see him just yet. I still had much to do.

I just remember praying, asking God for our safety and the tears began to well up in my eyes. We finally landed safely and I was expecting some sound or something but it was silent. I remember the pilot saying we had landed safely and to stay seated. I looked up from my braced position and wiped my eyes. Tears had welled up in my eyes but did not come out. I wiped the corner of my eyes since I could feel the tears.

Talk about shock and awe. I just sat there and I couldn’t do anything except turn on my cell phone. I immediately texted a couple of close friends and told them what happened. My nerves were frazzled.

For a while this morning, I felt like I was going through the motions. I grabbed a taxi to go to my class and the driver asked me how my flight went and I couldn’t say much other than okay. I think he got the hint that I just wanted to be quiet on our ride together. I walked to my class and I still was not all there. I walked into class late and told the group about my experience. I told them about my prayers and how I had told God that I loved him but I didn’t want to see him today. We all cracked up together. The sound of laughter began to ground me a bit. It took a while this morning to be present but I finally did so.

I had to fly back home and I felt so-so about it. The return flight was uneventful, thank God!

This experience just reminded me that even though I got the living daylights scared out of me that I needed to keep on “keeping on.” Driving home, I thought well if today had been my last day I would have been doing things I loved. I was traveling to one of my favorite cities in Texas (Austin) to learn about politics, a topic I love.

For some reason, this experience happened to me today. I don’t know why. I just know God gave me a wake up call today. Life can be and it is short.

Random Thought #2 - My Inner Texas Redneck

I am a Latina who likes country music. Yes, I have an inner Texas redneck in me which comes out every once in a while. Yes, I do say "ya'll" and "fixin to" -- that is normal lingo along with my Spanglish/Spanish lingo.

For the longest time, my inner Texas redneck would lie hidden and would pop out when I listen to my country faves -- George Strait, Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson, Carrie Underwood, etc. I even have started to love some of that old country stuff -- Don Williams, Patsy Cline.

I often wondered where does this inner Texas redneck come from because I certainly did not grow up listening to country. It finally dawned on me tonight.

Have come to conclusion that it comes from my Dad's Mexican rancho/sierra background. I grew up listening to rancheras, corridos, and Durango-type music with the thump, thump sound in the background. This music would drive me insane as a kid. Obviously, I did not appreciate it as much as my dad.

Have discovered that country music is similar to the Spanish stuff I grew up listening to -- so I am my father's daughter, a redneck after all. He's a redneck from la sierra de Durango and I'm one from Texas.

Viva Durango! Viva Tejas!

Scars...

I have many people I admire from afar who are doing what I would love to do. One of my favorites is Tina Fey. She is a writer, a humorous one at that. I thought it was the greatest thing to see her become the first woman to head the SNL writing team. It was even better to see her foray into the movies with Mean Girls as she wrote the screenplay. As a political junkie, she recently cracked me up with her impersonations of Sarah Palin. She was so dead-on that it was hilarious to watch.

Because of my admiration, stories about her usually catch my attention. One recent story of Tina Fey touched me. I had always wondered about the scar on her face, but never paid too much attention as I was usually cracking up with her humor. In a recent interview, her husband revealed the scar’s origins.

I found this fascinating because her scar is there for all the world to see. Many people have scars that are internal which we will never see but are there under the surface. Like hers, the scar eventually heals but it is sometimes present.

It’s the scars that people don’t see that shape us into the people we are today. If you could see into the inner depths of a person and if the internal scars were visible, you would see a picture that would be one-of-a-kind. From the million little scars to the big ones that are penetrating and deep. It would be like walking through a museum with each person an artistic rendering because of their scars.

Scars to me mean survival and healing. Each one – whether we can see it or not – represents a time and a place, a story. Sometimes we tell these stories because we have scars on the outside such as hers. Other times we don’t because we are the only ones who know our story and our scars are not easily noticeable. For all the times Tina Fey has made me laugh, today she made me think much deeper about my scars – both external and internal.

Latina Bumper Sticker - Priceless

This says it all...Thanks Cindy Rodríguez. It was on her facebook page. Check her out at http://cindyrodriguez.wordpress.com/

Why I Write

I write because as I grow older it provides me with a personal catharsis and renewal. These past years writing has helped me heal. I would put every thought onto the page and I’d felt relieved.

For a brief time, I stopped writing because what I was writing was raw. I don’t know how to describe it but it was powerful at times. The words would flow onto the page and I felt all the emotions on the page. I don’t know how else to describe it, but it was intensely, completely raw.

So I stopped writing…but you can never be away from something you love intensely. And, I love to write.

Now, the blank page is my friend. It invites me to come over and spend some time to share my thoughts. Thus, I write because it is like breathing for me. It keeps me alive.