A Letter to America, by David Clark

This was posted on one of the yahoo groups to which I belong. It's a wonderful reminder of love and hope for a world to come.
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A Letter to America

copyright 2005 David Clark
P.O. Box 148
Cochran, Ga.

May 23, 2005

Greetings,

I have spent the last 16 months or so traveling around America. I've gone to
41 states. My rule was to have a good conversation with someone every day.
For one thing, it kept me from getting homesick. For another, I wanted to
know what America was thinking.

These conversations took place in truck stops and diners, on street corners
and after my concerts or speaking engagements. I rarely knew my conversation
partner. I will never see most of these people again.

This letter is sent via the modern electronic version of the Town Crier's
dispatch pouch, as he journeyed from town to town to spread a particular
word. I have no other means to relay my voice. I have no sweating horse to
ride, and no dusty street corners where sweating people gather.

I am but one man.

But I am a free man, and I urge my trusty electronic steed on to town after
town, mailbox after mailbox, hoping to find open ears, minds, and hearts.

Rather than calling these words out in the open air as they should be called
out, I instead send email. I trust to the reader to imagine these words
having a real, live voice, explaining and calling. Like every town crier
experienced, not everyone will hear these words even if they listen to them.

My business is to speak the words, like a planter dropping seeds. What those
hearing these words will do with them is their choice. I have faith that
good ground remains.

There is a particular group that I keep meeting. Some of these people stay
in touch with me through letters. Some of these people I've not actually met
face-to-face. Others I've only met in passing at a concert or other
circumstance.

Each of these people has some talent. Each person is an artist in their
particular field, even though that field might not necessarily be considered
artistic. There are indeed visual, literary, or musical artists in this
group, but there are also counselors, nurses, teachers, business owners, and
tradesmen. There is even a minister or two in this bunch.

Maybe the best way to describe these folks I'm talking about is that they
are artistically-minded. By that I mean they are sensitive to tings that
many or perhaps most people ignore. They feel things most people miss,
though when these things are expressed they are recognized by most anyone as
true.

One of the common threads is that each of these people is searching,
earning, studying, seeing new ways of understanding how things work and how
they fit in.

Many of our conversations have happened when they felt as if they did not
fit in, when they felt as if they couldn't see how things work, when they
felt as if they were completely out of place in the world.

I understand this feeling all too well. It is one of the loneliest-and
scariest-feelings a person can know.

Another common thread is that each of these people has expressed a feeling
of being in the world but not a part of the world. A stronger way of saying
this same thing is that each of these people has expressed the feeling that
they have felt crazy at times (or most of the time!), especially by what are
considered "normal" standards.

Several of these people have said to me: "There's no way I would tell most
people what I think, because they wouldn't understand."

If this group of people sounds like a bunch of nuts to you, then you're
probably not part of it.

If, on the other hand, they sound very familiar to you, then you are most
likely one of the bunch even if we have not met or corresponded.

The reason I have conversations with these "weirdo friends" of mine is
because I'm a weirdo, too. We understand one another. e can talk to one
another and not laugh at one another.

In the last month, a similar conversation has been brought up by over a
dozen different people in one form or another.

What these people expressed to me is that the American people are numb. A
couple of folks have said the American people are dead, and just haven't
fallen over yet. These things are not said in jest or criticism of our
American brothers and sisters, but rather as an observation.

If you're not one of us weirdos you may not understand what I'm about to
say.

The story goes that if a person is about to get struck by lightning, the
hair on their arm stands straight up.

My artistically-minded friends are telling me in their own way that the hair
is standing up on their arms. I don't think any of us have realized this as
we were talking about it, but after having heard the same line of thinking
now for the past 30 days, it strikes me there is a pattern among those of us
who feel things deeply.

I recently read a news story about an old man who noticed that all the
animals were clearing out of a particular part of the forest and moving into
another part. He mentioned to a younger neighbor that perhaps he should move
his horse from where it was to another location, because a bad storm was
coming.

The sky was clear, and the younger guy at first thought the old man was
crazy. He finally moved the horse, mainly to humor the old man.

The next day a tornado came through, wiped out the forest where the animals
had been, and destroyed the place where the horse had been.

Someone asked the old man how he knew. His response was this: "I didn't
know. The animals knew. I just happened to notice them."

All of us artistically-minded people are the animals of society. At our
best, we are the closest to the wild and untamed that the culture has.
Culture keeps us at a distance by telling us we are crazy for our wildness.
They believe they keep us in cages by hanging our pictures on walls and
playing our records and reading our stories. And at our best, we know the
cages don't really exist, and that we can fly as we please. The statements
in this paragraph are not intended to express good or bad, but rather a
simple statement of how things are.

One question that has been voiced to me by the dozen different
cultural-forest friends of mine is this: "What are we doing? Where are we
at?" This is not the discouraged form these types of questions can often
take from artists, but rather they are asked from a place of awareness, as
if each person is looking at the hair on their arm standing on end and
wondering about it.

I have no idea what all of us are seeing and sensing. But I know we are
seeing and sensing Something.

What I want to say to each of you is this: We are in training. For what, I
don't know. Each of us has our gifts. Carry on with them.

This all sounds very new-agey, doesn't it?

Remember the animals in the forest, and how most people would say the old
man was nuts.

Accept the gift of your so-called craziness, and understand that your
craziness and wildness and unchained self is a vehicle for a spirit.

There are only two forces: love and fear.

Your gift is your vehicle for either force. I am writing this to encourage
you to allow yourself to love yourself and your gifts, to know that what you
are and what you know inside is a real gift to yourself, and through you to
the world. If you can allow yourself to accept this gift of love for
yourself, then you will not be afraid. Through you and your work, others
will feel less fear.

I cannot know what your work is or will be.

I can only know from my own experience what I am perceiving in our culture
as I have traveled around this country. We are a comfortable people, which
is why most of our art is at best ignored or at worst objected to.

The most dangerous way of life a person can reach is extreme comfort. In
that place, one is no longer living. One is simply at rest. While rest is a
necessary thing, to rest as a way of life is another way of dying.

The old alchemical teachings were a metaphorical description of the process
of healing and the process of becoming whole. The first step in this process
was called by names such as "the black" and in the Latin as "massa confusa"
or "nigredo." If you look at these words and descriptions you can easily see
that the healing process was said to begin with darkness, confusion, and the
deepest blackness-as opposed to light. The old alchemists insisted this
darkness had to be created first in order to create the "philosopher's
stone" of personal wholeness, and that without this darkness it was
impossible to go any further. But-they also said that IF this darkness was
created, the "stone" was almost sure to emerge.

You may recognize a parallel to the first few verses of Genesis, describing
the creation of the world. The first thing created was chaos. The world was
without form, and was void. And the spirit of God moved upon the face of the
deep.

The Genesis story tells us that God moves where there is darkness and chaos.

All of us have been through this great blackness in our lives. We call it
soul-searching and other similar names. From this darkness has come our art
in its various forms. From this darkness has come our faith.


There are other stages to this process, and that is not the point right now,
but rather to say that our culture is not willing to go into a great
darkness but would rather sit on the couch and watch television.

Human beings just naturally shrink from darkness, particularly when it is
the darkness within. We don't mind seeing darkness in others, but to be
willing to see it in oneself is of prime importance.

The passage of each day tells us that night always comes, whether we like it
or not. This daily reminder is an example of natural law telling us our
culture is heading into nighttime, willing or not.

The similar conversations I refer to above are all saying the people are
numb, that the people are dead and dying. It is a temptation to begin
talking about why this is so, and to blame everything and everyone from the
war to the media to the President to salaries of major league baseball
players.

Our place is not to assign blame, but to concentrate on our own art and
willingness to know that we are approaching a time where our talents and
gifts will be the only thing left shining in a dark, dark world.

Some of you know that I have said and written publicly that there is a
coming darkness. I don't say this as an expression of fear, but simply as an
observation.

This coming darkness, however it comes, is the first stage of a great
healing.

During this time of darkness-the 'massa confusa'-people will no longer be
comfortable. They will need and will seek guidance. Most of the cultural
leaders, whether political or religious, will disappear from view as their
own lack of understanding and lack of leadership ability will render them
irrelevant.

Suddenly, your art, your stories, your work, your gifts and talents, will be
of prime importance.

In all times and in all places, the work of the artist has been the light of
his or her culture.

The artist was called by other names in older times-these names sounded more
like medicine man, shaman, and similar expressions. This person was listened
to by the village. The village came to listen, came to tell their dreams,
came to hear interpretations of what was happening.

I have a feeling that we are quickly approaching a situation where we will
be living more in villages than in a country.

Do not doubt your value. Make the choice each day and every moment to not
doubt it. Cultivate what you know to be true. Listen to your intuition. Pray
and learn more and more how to trust the conversation you have with your
higher power. And do your art for all you are worth. Let it flow out of you.
Discover your story, the stories that work for you, that speak truth to you.
The time is soon coming where you will not only tell these stories for
yourself but for others. It would not surprise me if the truth in your
stories will be the only truth that is being told in your part of the world.

The key is to dig into these stories, consider them, listen to them, be open

to them, so that you can hear more and more of the truth these stories can
tell. This is a healing thing for you, and will be a healing thing for
others.

The old legends tell us of different cultures which disappeared. Probably
the most alluring and famous is Atlantis, which most people know to be a
culture which disappeared for some unknown reason ranging from because men
began having sex with goats to men having developed a weapon which destroyed
themselves.

There are legends of different ages and different cultures such as this. All
of these legends follow a similar pattern. It is impossible to verify any of
the stories. Verification is not the point.

For my eye, the most important part of the legends is that a select group
remained from each civilization that became the light-givers, teachers, wise
ones, or some other similar name to the new civilization which emerged.

I make no claims to know what will happen to our present culture. It could
be as logical as some environmental incident or an attack from some source.
It could be the shifting of the magnetic poles of the earth. It could be a
intergalactic Volkswagen that careens into our path. Or it could just as
easily be some cosmic thing we cannot comprehend that suddenly presents
itself.

Our task it not to figure out what will happen, but to pay attention to our
gifts and talents, to cultivate our sense of inner truth and faith in our
God, ourselves, and our stories and gifts. Through this paying attention we
will be able to shine some kind of light where we are.

I have a very strong feeling it will be as if we will all come around a
curve and come face to face with the sudden need for what we know to be
true. At that point, none of us will be able to call on any experts or lay
claim to any documentation backing up our truth. And no one will ask us for
it. It will be a different time, when people will suddenly realize they are
starving and our gifts will be the only food available.

As an artistically-minded person, consider that the color black is a funny
thing. It occurs in at least two circumstances: (1) in the absence of light,
and (2) when all colors are mixed together.

In the spectrum of light, white is the mixture of colors.

The artist's mind understands the paradox-that if black is all colors mixed
together, then black is like a painter's toybox containing all the colors
under the sun. Likewise, the light contains all the colors just waiting to
be chosen, so to speak.

This non-scientific way of looking at things is intended to say that most
people may see black as nothing more than a mess, and white as just another
type of void.

Your intuition tells you differently. Listen to the part of your spirit that
sees a painter's toybox in what others see as a mess, and sees the whole
range of life in what others see as a void.

Many people I've met on the road are deeply worried about America. No one
has any idea of what to do.

Most people I've met have said they are convinced we must have a catastrophe
in order to change.

Do we honestly want to be forced into change? Only individuals can choose to
change.

We must remember that an illness reaching a point of crisis is also reaching
a cure. Pain is the first symptom of healing.

Almost every single person I have met in the last 16 months of traveling has
told me they believe our country is ill, and that a crisis point is not far
off.

I do not know how many people reading this would consider themselves to be
leaders. But if you are a person who sees a painter's toybox in the mess,
then you are a leader in your own way.

Your work, your vision, and the statements you make through your work, are
more of a leadership than you realize. Others will be sparked into deeper
living simply by observing what you do.

This country was begun by a few men and women taking a stand and acting.
Others saw this and did their part. Some did their part by writing and
painting. Some did their part by fighting and dying. Some did their part by
loading muskets. Some did their part by gathering groups of people together
and reading the Declaration of Independence to them. Some did their part by
providing soldiers with a coat and a blanket.

Of course, there were also those who did nothing. That will always be the
case.

Those who want the bounty of a garden must help tend the garden.

Our country is a big garden, and the weeds are getting mighty high. The
weeds are sure to grow. Your work is the tending of your little patch.

Do not be discouraged if the corn is slow in making. Every fruit has its
season. Watch for the tassels, watch for the silk, and know the ear is sure
to come.

If you've gotten this far, then you must be one of the weirdos who are this
culture's unknown hope. Carry on.

Do your art. Take the time to volunteer at the nearest V.A. Hospital. Go
shake hands with the lonely disabled vets and thank them for their service.
If you don't live near a V.A., then just pick a nursing home and stop by
once a month and visit with someone. This giving of yourself above and
beyond what you already do will have a powerful effect on you and an unknown
but very real affect on others. Your giving is a source of service to the
country -- a tending of the garden.

Remember the corny idea of a pebble thrown into a pond. Throw the pebble
that you are into the pond. Invite others to join you.

Read Thomas Paine's "Common Sense." Read "The Declaration of Independence."
Read them to your children and friends. Read them to your civic group and
church. Get people thinking about the basic ideas of America and freedom. If
you need a copy of either one of these writings, send me an email or letter
requesting them and I will send them to you.

Danger and deliverance are always on two converging paths which are destined
to meet. Do not be discouraged at the danger that you see. It is only when
the two converging paths cross that one will take the lead. Doing your part
now gives strength to deliverance.

Our lives have crossed for a reason. I trust that process.

No matter how far-flung you may feel from others of our kind, you must know
that you are not alone. Know that you have kindred souls all over, and
somehow or another our minds and hearts are joined. I believe that and am
seeing it work.

Be good to yourself. Send your thoughts, whatever they may be.

I hope to cross paths with you one day.

David Clark
P.O. Box 148
Cochran, Ga. 31014


<http://www.outofthesky.com>

Dead Can Dance

My wife and I went to the Dead Can Dance concert in Chicago last night with a couple of friends from Ohio. DCD was wonderful! After 9 years of waiting, I was hoping the concert would never end. They played two encores of about 3 songs each. Lisa sang a lullaby as her very last song of the night. It was unexpected, but very nice. She has such an amazing voice. When she sings, the gods stop what they're doing and listen.

Just a couple of things that bothered me about the show... the audience! Haven't people been to a REAL concert before? ... one that isn't a rock concert!? Here's some basic rules and things that bothered me.

1) Shut up! If you need to say something, do it during the applause.

2) Turn off your cell phone BEFORE the concert starts. If someone's cell phone goes off during the performance, that person will be embarassed enough as is and they'll turn it off. DO NOT "shhhhh" them or yell at them. You make more noise than the phone did and cause a greater disturbance.

3) Don't "shhhh" people. It's louder to everyone around you than their mumbling is. If you can't wait until the applause to tell them to be quiet, turn to them and TELL them to be quiet.

4) Please don't bring your friend who pretends to have turrets syndrome or who is drunk. If they really DO have turrets, explain it to the people around you before your friend gets their ass kicked for yelling out "Rock and Roll!" in the middle of a quiet symphonic part of a piece.

5) Wait until the applause before getting up to get a drink or use the facilities. Wait until the applause to make your way back to your seat. Don't loiter in the isle while waiting.

6) No flash photography. If you MUST take a picture, don't use the flash. It's distracting to others and all you'll get is a bright picture of the back of hte head of the person sitting in front of you.

and lastly,

7) Put your camera phones away. Don't even bother to take them out during the concert. In a dark concert hall, the screen on the phone is VERY bright and distracting to others. It can be brighter than the stage lighting and catch the corners of your eyes. It's very annoying.