There are few things as undeniable and certain as talent. I consider this especially true for those of us who lack it.
As I write this, on my player, a soft melodious voice sings a song by a group called The Mountain Goats. It’s a cover version of the song called Woke Up New and it’s sung in a way in which I will never be able to sing anything. It’s the first version I ever heard of the song so it has become the original version for me. The song, sung the way she sings it, makes me both happy and sad at the same time, brings back memories of events and emotions, let’s me appreciate whom I’ve become and unjudgmentally remember who I was.
It doesn’t stop there. This person who sings so beautifully also has a blog and on that blog you can take long looks at the pictures she takes or read her poems.
I have a Nikon D90 and I have a keyboard hooked up to a computer with full internet access, yet my pictures lack the life and thrill I find in her’s and no amount of staring at a blank screen has ever been able to pull forth a poem from within me. Wait, I can remember now, yes I’ve written some poetry, incomplete and bad, soulless and distant from whatever emotions inspired them. When I read her poetry I can feel something, distant and indefinable, something simple and true which touches that within me that can’t be put into words and at most must reach for the metaphorical approximation to be felt and exist, something that understands poetry but can’t explain it.
So, what do I do? I follow her blog, I take a look at the pictures, I occasionally click on “like” when I exceptionally like one and try to be unobtrusive about it by not leaving comments which would sound empty. And, I write my stuff here and on some other places, sometimes anonymously as is the case, thankful for the internet and the www that has so considerately demonstrated to me my utter lack of talent and therefore saved me from the toil and hurt other generations had to go through to find out.
To close on a high note, what can I offer? Well, for one, sincere appreciation for talent and beauty but also, and it may not be of use here, but I’m old fashioned when it comes to giving and keeping my word, I used to be the guy friends called when they were going to get in a fight and needed back up, and now I’m the guy they can call when a major problem hits them at 3:00 a.m. some random weekend. I can get silently pissed beyond words when I get there; but I’ll never leave you out on a limb. Probably talk to you about a great song I just found, promise to forward it to you and start a monologue about talent.