April 26, 2012

kim taylor

photo by steve metz                                                                                                                                                             kim taylor

Can you see how far we've come
Such a miracle
Everything is clear
You are such a wonder 
I will be the one to build you up
I will be the one to never doubt

photo by steve metz                                                                                       kim taylor
I have never cried while watching a film or television.  I have never cried while looking at a photograph.  I have cried only once from a was the final pages of Paul Auster's novella Timbuktu.  I have never cried at a funeral.  I have never cried from the sight of a beautiful piece of art or from seeing the brutality of mankind or nature with my eyes.

     I am not ashamed to tell you, however, that I have been moved to tears more times than I could probably count, by the sound of a voice and a melody.  This is me being straight with you.  That intersection of human breath and instrumentation is the place where my soul abides.  I am wide open there and the tears come when they come.

photo by steve metz                                                                                                                                                              kim taylor

     You are listening to a song called Build You Up, by Kim Taylor.  Those are her words and that is her voice.  You have a free connection to this person's interior mind, through this gift she has made of her own heart. Listen now, for a moment and while you listen, introduce yourself by looking at a picture.  Imagine the woman who pulled up these words from her own mind.  Imagine the woman who imagined the melody.  Imagine she, who breathed a sad strength into both.  As you are listening with your ears and seeing with your eyes you will come to know her.  The images that Kim let me make this past weekend and the sound of her, have left an indelible print somewhere on me.  I feel that I have known this Kim, or maybe a Kim for my whole life.  Maybe she is me.  Or my sister.  Or my grandmother.  Maybe she is your wife.  Or your son.  Or the man who turns your checks into cash at the bank.  So now, close your eyes and listen for someone you know.  Listen for yourself.  

photo by steve metz                                                                                      kim taylor
     And now tell me what you heard.  What was that smoky sound planting in the dirt of you?  What seed is there to grow?  Did it tell you to be strong for someone whom you love?  Did it tell you to let someone whom you love be strong for you?  Is there a difference between these ideas when the two are bonded as one, where there is love?  I'll never doubt.

     I feel like a poet, hiding behind music is what she told me.  I wondered to myself if there is a distinction between the poet who pens and the poet who sings. Ultimately, Kim is both, to me, and the two crafts are like a perfectly woven vine and branch around her, distinct but inseparable, each bolstering the other, each whispering to the other, stay.

photo by steve metz                                                                                                                                                              kim taylor

     Kim has been excavating her own inner landscape in this way for many years, and, so far, the only thing she's giving up on is having expectations.  Her family is her compass, her rehab, her blanket, and they have watched as she has matriculated from a place of quiet desperation to a place of travel for the sake of the journey.  I am open to anything now.  I don't know where I'm going.  I don't know where this leads, she tells me.

     Do you ever fee like quitting, I ask?  
     Why don't you?
     My partner....they bring me back when I wander.  They keep me moving.   

photo by steve metz                                                                                                                                                              kim taylor

     And so, thankfully, for us, the recipients of Kim's gifts, she awakens daily, ready to dig in the dirt.  Ready to be swept away in the tide of beautiful sorrow that accompanies living with eyes open.  She's out there right now in the garden.  There's a seed in her hand.  It's a word, a chord, an arpeggio, maybe just a whisper.  She drops it into a small hole and covers it with dirt...a home, a bed, a hiding place, a brief grave.  She lifts the watering can and a droplet plunges into the dark soil to nourish it.  Soon, it will rise up and you'll hear it faintly in the distance.   You might mistake it for your own heartbeat.

photo by steve metz                                                                                                                                                             kim taylor

Kim Taylor will be in New York recording a new record.  You'll be able to get it around the time the leaves start dropping.  You can buy Build You Up or anything else by Kim, just about anywhere.  


1 comment: