"Free", and improvised jam at Ramos Boxing Team Gym

I stand at a precipice of change. At the edge of an uncertain future, or the promise of a certain doom. Will the winds of tomorrow carry my spirit, or is their beckoning an empty call of a dream never to be fulfilled? Chains and ropes on one hand, and an endless sky in another. And in the center of this are two voices; one called desire and the other called fear, urging me to let go of the other. One wants the certainty of chains and ropes, and the comfort of being bound and fettered. The other reaches to the sky, feeling the wind through its fingers, the coolness of the breeze, and the warmth of the sun. Always reaching, but never able to take hold. One voice tires of the wind slipping through its grasp, the other tires of laying in ruin. My heart in the middle, filtering these emotions and sensations. Not ready to let go of either. Because it is me that must deal with the consequences, not the voices.

The chains are getting heavier, and I realize I need two hands to carry them. As I begin to pull my hand from the sky to grab the chains, the wind increases in strength and turbulence, refusing to be ignored. My eyes awash with tears I cry out a groan of helplessness. I am so alone. My head has been hung low for so long. I look up for what seems like the first time in years and I see ahead of me others...just...like...me. Some chose to be bound with the ropes and chains, but the weight was to great for both hands to bear that the chains crushed the life out of them. Others never made a decision, and the voices tore their heart in two and they were no more. But some followed the wind, and trusted its call. They had no tears, they had no regrets and they had no chains. Each one of them had both hands grasping for the wind, both hands reaching to the sun, both hands empty, but always grasping. It was enough for them that the wind whisked through their fingers, whisked through their hair, and carried them where it may. Some never flew to high, and some flew low, and some had wings and flew so high they were like dots on the horizon. But all were grasping, all reaching. I have never flown, I have never been free. I wanted to be one of them, even if I never flew high. I wanted to be one of them and I wanted to reach too.

As I looked at my chains and said good bye to them for the last time, I finally let go, but the force of the falling chains tore the earth beneath my feet in two. I desperately stretched both hands in the air as the earth beneath my feet gave way. At that precise moment a gale-wind came from where was once solid ground, and propelled my being into the sky. As it hurried me away from the collapsing chasm, the sun greets me in a warm embrace. I hold my outstretched arms high, and reach for a place where the chains are lifted off, and the limits of the land are broken, and pains of days long gone are forgotten. A place where tears are not allowed to flow. I may never fly up there with the ones that have wings, but I am free. -ArroyoMusic 2008-

Category:

Music

Tags:

• RamosBoxing.com
• Anthony
• Arroyo
• Arturo
• Turnie
• Ramos
• Billy
• Sauceda
• guitar
• improvisation
• shred
• fender
• strat
• stratocastor

[edemvedson]

Free", and improvised jam at Ramos Boxing Team Gym.....dude, all our jams our improvised.

[arroyomusic]

Dude, it's just we are the musical geniuses of Moursand Blvd...we don't mess around.

[iamthepwnerer]

Wow, if i was half as cool and deep and skilled as you, I;d be happy with that. Excellent work on both the music and the commentary to go with it :)

[arroyomusic]

Thank you for the gracious comment, bro. I appreciate it.

[p4gwntx]

Hey, Anthony, really enjoyed this video and liked the writing a lot too.  Thanks for your kind words this afternoon. God bless. - Nichole (from the CU)

[tretonoseslide]

nice