the most lovely thing

Contact Note
by Jon Hopkins

...from the decemberists

find it and listen with me...

Red Right Ankle Lyrics

Courage and Surrender

I can feel when I rub against the grain-
the slight edge to air and light.
It’s all a matter of pleasure-
the discernment that lays between
courage and surrender

I could give up the basics and fly
I could grasp what is seen and lie
Patient toward time for the sake of vision
Industrious with circumstance; provision

A process pulls in the hands of God
A resistance caves in my heart; I’m soft
which says to some I must be weak
and brittle though emotions fuel my dream
a little-
A little dream I search for at night
the keeper of wisdom kept from sight

Open the eye and take the same
or finger the edge, rough hewn-
untamed

just waiting

Karin is in London, traveling with Vanguard classmates. We met other families as we waited in line to check in. It started to feel real for her about then. But me, I have known all along. It was harder this morning as I walked past her room. And when I came home wanting to tell her about the two-year old I fell in love with today at VBS. I passed Old Navy and remembered that I would have to find someone else to go with me. But today I'll start the sweater she picked out for me to make her.
It's okay. I haven't cried yet and I'm not planning to. I refuse to be sad about how much these few months hold for her. We are just merely on two roads that will meet again.

Show @ the Plush

We stepped into the whole envelope of sound.










I embraced them all for the first time, so thankful for the moment, each one of them so necessary. Gratitude makes for great accoustics.

Coley and I had a healing time together this weekend. We talked always, save for sleep. We saw old friends. We nodded in recognition of the same old things.

Our lives are intricate, rich with currency of experience and heart. We spend ourselves for the ones we love and the ones who are hard to love.
In Ventura we also grieved. It was far from easy. We said goodbye to attitudes that had us hooked and people who could not meet us. We said goodbye to those who we could not meet. We are thankful for our friendship, and in that open space, we ponder the actions of many people, wondering what goes wrong, as well as what is right in the meeting. Then we move on.

I grasp at faith in God because of the beauty of it. Faith makes my life and the eyes with which I see a harmony. The reflex of God doesn't make me knowledgable, but it does make me wiser. I am better off in a larger company with those of faith than I am in the isolation of the rational.

...and it was good.
to see others having the same heart and now, to let go and move on.

road miracle

This bulletin was posted from Francisco the Man's myspace. Click on the post title to hear them. They sound better than ever now! Thank you for this, God:

Hello everyone.

As of right now, we are in a city called Willow, just past Sacramento and 30 minutes from Chico. We are sitting in a hospital, Nestor and Angelo in line to get checked on by the Doctor. Abdeel is in there right now.

Last night as we were walking to our van, we noticed that someone broke into it and stole a couple things. It was the first show of the tour, and we got robbed because SF is full of crackheads that walk around like Zombies talking an unknown language. The front passenger window was fully knocked out as well. We should have realized that the worst was yet to come, but hey, we're optimistic!

Our next show was supposed to be in Portland, which is about a 12 hour drive. So we decided to leave right after the gig. We left at about 2 o' clock. Everyone was pretty much sleeping the whole night. Abdeel was sitting in the passenger seat, covered in a blanket because it was so cold. We made a little bed in the back where all our equipment was that was positioned on top of Ange's bass cab. That's where I was sleeping.

About 3 hours into the drive, we lost control of the van, swerved a couple times, did a 180 and flipped 2 or 3 times.

We ended up landing on all 4 wheels.

With me sleeping in the back, Abdeel sleeping with no window, and everyone except the driver not wearing a seatbelt, we probably all should have died.

It was pretty much a life changing experience for all of us. In only the second day, our tour is over.

But the most important thing out of all of this is that everyone of us came out literally with no injuries. A couple brusies and sore backs, but that's it. God was seriously watching over us tonight. Words really can't express how grateful we all are that we are still alive. Jessica said that it might be God saving us from something worse that was gonna happen later on. We got robbed, but we didn't leave. Maybe it took an accident like this to make us go home. I also think it really showed us that we might have been taking things for granted (music, talent, family, friends, life) and that this was our wake up call.

After the hospital, we will be checking into a hotel and getting some rest. We will also be renting a van so that we can leave as soon as possible.

So we are in the process of canceling all our dates, except the Plush gig in Fullerton. And rest assured, with all that has happened to us this weekend, both bands will come through with things you have not seen.

Please pray that we can make it home safely. We are all shaken and changed by this experience, but we are holding on to the comfort that we will be with all of you soon.

God is love, and rock & roll is loving one another.

Blessings,
Aren, Scotty, Simon, Joel, Christian, Nestor, Angelo & Abdeel

JEPROCKET & FRANCISCO THE MAN

open places left after

If your Elijah comes to me now
with my bowl and jar
overturned
You cannot be expecting a thing
from me.
My son and I;
we are prepared to die.

If you bring me hope through a
prophet’s love, all
untouchable
You shouldn’t shame me when
I dream again
My heart within
has long expected to die.

If we together watch this miracle
soft flour green
oil fragrant
You break all former contracts
that bargain death
My soul loves him-
we are bonded to expectation.

poem home

This sweet lyric shack holds music. I want one.

solidarity w/ the captive

What does one say when shaken
and metered? Can silent
expression command
tidefalls; projections?

An outburst of costly saved
spent observations
to take in a tale born of pain
leaves me pensive

Still willing to trust that
there's something trustworthy
-in the eyes; past the parting
which tells us of stories

I listen still faulty, in
worlds, seperate, foreign-
Your flesh takes blood too
to keep it from failing

I listen with healing as you
would listen to me
not you God, not your wisdom
as you are not free.

Camp for Girls (etc.)

It was my first visit to Wisconsen for Camp and by the looks of it, I had a great time. There was so much to see and learn, I was completely happy with creative people and the nurturing, useful skill we've come to value. I went alone but came back with several new friends. I sampled a few great local beers, ate the fried dill pickles and bought enough Shetland jumper weight to last me the ice-age.

I know in your heart of hearts you wished you knit too.


Here's me and Meg Swansen. I think all we would need is a vast amount of time and short roads between us to be good friends. I'll just go ahead and pretend... a few more camps maybe.

july19-23

I'll be going to Meg Swanson's Knitting Camp in Marshfield, Wisconsin.

Jar of Seeds, dead life in me
Potential of reality
Shaken down in glass unseen
in order of the mystery
No one can see or smell or taste
the Light, the Wind, the Human Face
DNA and bones examined
never tell of trees in famine
Tell me something else instead
that breezes blow past former dead
and warmth that comes
from someplace else
still comes untold
and rights itself.

the simple way again

... is facing the aftermath of a city authority that has forgotten them.
Keep them in your prayers. Make a phone call. The simple thing to do is apparently not the easiest.

URGENT APPEAL: After the fire, police assured us that they would remain on the block to keep things secure and to keep kids from playing in the ruins. Unfortunately that did not last. Within days the fire-damaged block was left open, and now at least 3 of the nicer homes have been broken into. The affected houses have large orange “Condemned” posters on them, and homeowners have been threatened with arrest should they prematurely enter their homes (with no communication from the City since the fire on June 20). However, during the evenings the homes have become a prime target for burglary, as folks know they are currently uninhabited and filled with valuables, or at least copper piping. So they are currently being stripped. This week we will be securing and boarding up the homes that are not set for demolition. And unless the City and License and Inspections steps in we will cover the bill ourselves, and we may develop our own policing to secure these properties (but it is disappointing that people are paid with tax dollars for these very jobs, and it’s hard to imagine that homes would be left in such disorder in other neighborhoods). This is very discouraging, to say the least. It is easy to see how people become homeless after situations like this, though we will do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen.

the poet

The humble man sits for hours
awaiting a poem
an attention
That rivals architectures
latticed with money
systems or
knotted with micro
surgeons

His work is anticipation
threshing out the
thoughts of silence
That contrast harmonies
colored with signatures
once empty
never heard until
now

He is commonly seen
as an isolated man
unnoteworthy
Because imagination
defies what was,
falling forward
out of meager
answers

His metaphor is meat and sleep
as usual among
any tribe
The communal tone of
histories ripe
with belief bringing
daily bread by day;
then bedded night

His listening is wealthy
with tutors of
wisdom
That is dispensed among
unsighted waterways
agreed on in
corner diners;
familiar

He sees and he hears and
he feels and he
speaks
That patience of books
which lie peaceful,
all worlds; not lonely, but heavens
love caused to write.

Video Poem

...from a neighbor of the Simple Way

the simple way

Pray and contribute. It's that simple.

The Simple Way in Philadelphia suffered enormous loss as a fire destroyed their neighborhood on June 20th. Thank God no one was injured. Now it's time to recover and respond.

Shane came to visit us last fall. He, along with others in his household are showing us a renewing patience and acceptence toward one another. We really can live together. We can take what is ours and share it with our neighbor. We really are more than our selves. Let's help them. Go here to contribute funds.

when I look at green
I feel loved.
the shades in ripples which
lasso the light
all foreground
a prophecy

when I look at dark
I feel held.
Just to see is evidence
of gravity even
fractures of leaf
in buoyancy

to see the focal point
of forest
makes a love to my eye
that bonds my soul
as do lips to hair’s nape
a dream as

chartreuse reaches
it’s fronds toward me.

My partner in poems: This mystic man whom other men remind
me of in fractions
The creator who mirrors me in parenthood bent from
lover's arms
My soft childhood face never a shame when it comes to light
a fatherhood
My watchful life is his eyes and my voice his breath brushed
lips a smile
The company of silent crowded yet to be revealed which hold us
married a fertile field
Iconic creatures clothed in words reflected a face of one
greeted in many