Watching My Museum

Smile like you mean it

Drawing closer to the end of their 'The SE Experience' tour, it was their second show in San Francisco, but the nerves still got the best of both musicians.

Lying backstage was Sammy, at rest on the couch, avoiding any commotion. No one dared to disturb the musician; they all knew Sammy's regular focus time before any gig was prestigious.

'Five minutes guys,' the supervisor informed.

'Woo! San Fran, here we come baby!' Ellen said. Despite nerves, Ellen's enthusiasm made getting up on stage like the last day of her life.

'Sshhh,' Sammy responded, continuing with his hazy sprawl.

Ellen smiled a persuasive smile, among definite sharp eyes; a look of statement enough to sway any defenseless human.

Sammy tried to avoid it, but who could possibly oppose to Ellen's eloquent manner. He loved it.

A convinced but denying grin appeared across the dark skin, altering Sammy's expression completely. 

'Oh, quit with the implausible meditation Sam! Let's go!'

Ellen grabbed hold of Sammy's arm tight, and the both of them bolted to the stage entrance, Ellen rushing ahead like a bullet.

Smoke blankets the stage as bold blue, red, yellow then green lights cut through the atmosphere.

A sudden staggering explosion of guitars and drums vibrate the enormous venue, and the crowd's response is uncontrollably thunderous.

The music slowly quiets down, resulting to a rusty silence preparing for a stream of swift but delicate angelic voice softening the crowd's noise. All lights and interest were on Ellen as the most pure beautiful note was sung. The crowd paused for admiration.

It really was the scene of an angel surfacing the earth.

Magnificent raw music from the guitars, piano, drums gradually compliments the singing.

No doubt was it the most extraordinary and exhilarating concert of this generation yet. Well, The SE was the very inspiring and triumphant brother/sister duo, and who could ever compete with Sammy's mad electric guitar skills?

Smile like you mean it, and do it more often.




It's okay to stumble and fall

'This tastes like crap,' a further inconsiderate complaint off Sammy's chest, pitting out his food.

'Get over it Sam! If you happen to come up with a better idea, let me know yeah?! 'Cos you're all about ideas aren't you Sam?!' Ellen snapped.

She slumped herself on the stained and heavily damaged couch. Greasy hair, pursed lips, and a pair of fiercely eyes didn't need explaining, Ellen's expression said it all. She was a trapped untamed wild animal, hopeless to escape. It was as though she was going to pounce and attack any moment though.

Remorse and sheer rage swamped Sammy's body like a tidal wave.

But this was clearly not the occasion to tolerate his temper and aggravate the unbearable situation.

Cold silence had taken over for too long.

'I'm sorry Ellen,' said Sammy. The words cut through the thick atmosphere like a struggling knife.

Ellen remained silent, and the harsh vibe didn't get anywhere but tense.

'Ellen! Listen! This is not my fault!'

'No, no, of course it isn't. All our hard work, the commitment, all down the bloody pothole not because of you turning your back on me and thinking you could trust your instincts without even aware of the facts! What happened to being a team Sam? And discussing problems and these types of offers that is worth our life, our bloody career?!'

'Will you be quiet! The guy made some convincing offers.'

'Obviously convincing enough to not consult it with your co-worker, the person who is equally in this business as you are!'

'We were given the opportunity to experiment with new sounds, even double the cash like you wanted it, how could I have said no?!'

'Oh yes, instead, we're left with nothing, especially cash! This is so bloody absurd, how could you not see it coming? It was so obvious and clear that he was a con! Like, offers such as that are actually probable. Why were you so bloody selfish and greedy?!'

'Will you quit it?! I said I was sorry. Learn to accept the fact that it's history, and move on, get on with our lives. We don't need the music! We have each other.'

'Sam, music may have not been your life, but it was mine. And you, Sam, cost me my fucking life.'

Ellen stormed out of the apartment like a tornado, without looking back, and leaving nothing behind but a tight unresolved issue.   

It's okay to stumble and fall, as long as you get back up.




Do you know where I can find a time machine?

The air was muggy and the harsh lights ached Ellen's eyes, throbbing ending at her feet; the discomforting ambience weighing her down. 

Ellen froze, fixed on the spot and entirely motionless, as though time had paused before her eyes. The lifeless body took over, contemplating, as curt becoming impatient surroundings bewildered by this unusual behavior call Ellen's name.

'Ellen?' the producer said once more, annoyed.

Ellen stared blankly, the demanding words not registering. 

The baffled manager watched through the windows from outside the recording studio becoming worried by Ellen's lack of consciousness.

'Stop the recording,' Mark demanded the producer and moved into the recording room.

Ellen jumped, startled by Mark's prickle on her skin. A semi questioning look crossed her face, observing her surroundings as though unsure of where she was.

'Everything okay Ellen? Do you want to take a break?' Mark asked concerned.

Ellen's widened eyes settled on Mark's. A look of fear and desperation marked her face.

'Yeah.'


Frosty cool air envelops Ellen, sustaining her, cleansing her swelter from her anguish anxiety among other contemplations.

She watched the dull sky with fixed eyes, in search for the exact thoughts circling her mind.

A pair of mannish hands crumbles on Ellen's shoulder, alarmed, she instantly shrugs them off.

'Oh, it's only you. Sorry,' muttered Ellen, fumbling over her words.

'You can't keep brooding over Sammy's death forever Ellen, you know that,' said Mark straight forward, accompanying Ellen with a seat next to her.

'He never cared for the music, he cared for me, a human being; family. It was the other way around for me. And now I don't have him I truly understand career and money isn't as important as family. Mark, I was the one being bloody selfish, not him. I don't deserve this second chance. I never appreciated what I had until it was gone…'

Stumbling but sincere words poured out of Ellen's coarse mouth.

'Well do you happen to own a time machine?' Mark's tactless comment interrupted.

Ellen turned her gaze onto Mark in disbelief.

'Ellen, it's okay to feel this way, as long you pull through and recover. So take this opportunity of renewing your music as a recovery. You never dealt with the situation between you and Sam, so learn from that mistake, and moreover, all your mistakes, rather than gobbling up in grief.

Ellen, never ever forget about the past…but do let go of it.'

Firm rigorous speech thumped Ellen's body like an animal's roar. An incredulous look smacked her face, leaving her speechless, contemplating again, and chewing her thoughts between quivering fingers and toes.   

Mark gave a careful look and left without another word.

'Time is precious dear, precious, precious,' the producer's frustration nagged; only adding more uneasiness to Ellen as she returned to the studio, after being buried in drawn thoughts and feelings.

Feeling edgy but determined to finish the album, Ellen assured, 'I'm okay now.'

She picked up from where she last left; abandoning all thoughts, but they still lurked in every corner of her mind.

Do you know where I can find a time machine? Until then, the days before yesterday are history, and we can recover by benefiting from our mistakes.



© 20 February 2007 by Carol N.