You may now venture out into the wilds of the web and view/purchase/steal Joshua’s tribute to Kerouac’s “Tristessa”.
Here is a love affair song.
One for the faithful and the fallen.
“La guitarra se cantará”
Si te me vas Esperanza
No regreses a mi!
Si te me vas Esperanza
No regreses a mi!
Si me quieres a lado.
Dame mas que tu cuerpo
Soy tu hombre no mas
Te regreso jamas. Mi esperanza!
Ojala que recuerdes
de la sombra de mi
Amor, yo nunca podría
olvidarme de ti
Se crecera mas negro
El corazón al dentro
En mi pecho esta
Sin tu beso sera, mi Esperanza!
Cuando vea tu nombre
En el libro de muertos
Al lugar de tu cuerpo
La guitarra se cantara
Cada corde alcanzara
Al hogar de Dios
Lloarare con mi voz, a Esperanza.
Live Nation are thrilled to announce Utah-based, innovative folk singer JOSHUA JAMES ’ debut Australian tour. Joshua James is bringing his nouveau brand of folk to Australia as special guest on Neil Finn’s national tour this March, performing extended sets at headline shows in Melbourne at the Shebeen on Friday 14 March, Cronulla, Brass Monkey on Friday 21 March and Sydney, The Vanguard on Sunday 23 March. Tickets for all shows go on sale Thursday 13 February.
“Sentimentality is a key component of his music – songs about kidnappings, the difficulty of communication to distant relatives, substance abuse and other of difficult life challenges feature in his songs, making him comparable to folk legends Bob Dylan or Neil Young.” The Upcoming, 2012
MELBOURNE – SHEBEEN – FRIDAY, MARCH 14 with special guest LAKYN
CRONULLA – BRASS MONKEY – FRIDAY MARCH 21 with special guest Dylan Wright
SYDNEY – THE VANGUARD – SUNDAY MARCH 23 with special guest LAKYN
TICKETS ON SALE: Thursday 13 February
For complete tour and ticket information, visit: www.livenation.com.au
A bit earlier this year, Joshua and Evan made their way to Boulder, Colorado to visit Nick and Helen and the fine folks at eTown. For those of you that missed the radio broadcast, you can now stream the show over at etown.org. You can stream the entire show here.
Additionally you can watch 4 videos from the performance on youtube here:
Joshua James – Beware
We are excited to share the news that Joshua will be heading to Australia in March of 2014. Joshua will be supporting the venerable Mr. Neil Finn for a full Australian tour. Additionally, an Australian version of “From the Top of Willamette Mountain” will be released through Cooking Vinyl on November 15, 2013.
Here’s a list of Australian dates supporting Neil Finn (stay tuned for more):
Nambour, Nambour Civic Centre – March 6
Brisbane, QPAC Concert Hall – March 7
Geelong, GPAC Playhouse – March 11
Melbourne, Hamer Hall – March 12:
Adelaide, Thebarton Theatre – March 15
Perth, Concert Hall – March 16
Newcastle, Civic Theatre – March 20
Sydney, Sydney Opera House Concert Hall – March 22
"Ollie, my son. Tonight is THE ONLY NIGHT!" // Fire Dancerz.
“You have two options. You can be in denial about your real feelings and ignore what needs to be fixed and wait for trouble to come find you. Or else you can vow to be resilient and summon your feistiest curiosity and go out searching for trouble..”
As I sat at the coffee shop reading the prose above I couldn’t help my emotions from kidnapping my eyes and my beating heart, sending a small kick drum of on an explosion to my insides and making me shade my face from any possible onlooker. It’s the changing seasons that contribute to my frailty. I am predisposed to emotional overloads. I think more than I should, letting TOO many thoughts in, often time leading to a mass confusion of music, love and mothballs between my two ears, shaking with every taken step from here to there, to where I deem to be important.
BUT! Aren’t we all this way? Just look up for 15 seconds. Look around. That man in the corner, wearing the Giants hat, staring out the window, he too is possibly working through so many emotions, his Father is in the hospital with terminal cancer and it is all he can do to maintain his composure during the work week, and those 17 minutes that you saw him sitting in the corner of your local coffee shop, staring into the nothing is the only few moments that he has to try and cope with the situation.
WE ARE ALL IN THIS.
Dealing while driving, emotional while in motion.
AND this, this horoscope from the SLC Weekly that I just so happened to pick up took me off guard. I have never been one to follow the weekly horoscopes that are sure to be found in your local periodical, but my eyes seemed to jet right to the Gemini reading of the month. May I be honest? (OF COURSE I CAN BE HONEST) This felt dead on, as if the writer had been spying on my existence over the course of the last four months and said: “ Oh, that boy, that boy needs some kind of help, some direction, oh boy, he does.” And then he proceeded to write a small paragraph of overly applicable suggestions that I found on this cold October morning.
Those two options that I internalized seemed to make such sense to me (Does everything have to be SUCH a life lesson, JOSHUA!?) We are faced, daily, with small decisions, but every now and again we are faced with others that will shape our future selves / lives. But as this brilliant horoscopian (it MUST be a word) revealed, moping, sighing and hiding from the inevitable “hard” decision will only lead to a “messy trouble that arrives with indigestion”. I suppose I am working on that, on the concept of making the RIGHT / REAL / BEST decision with conviction as opposed to sitting around, waiting for it bite me on my behind. If those decisions that you make, the BIG ones, get you into trouble, the hope remains that they will eventually turn into a blessing of sorts. There is something to a man/woman that follows “the gut”. That intuition that we are born with has a truth sensor, I truly do believe, and though not EVERY inkling that our gut sends to our brain cake is a reliable and justified decision, it often times is. Yes. It is. I think. I think.
Family Traditions / Cider Making. Brother / Father / Son.
Bandits / Brothers.
BAND of BOYS / Coyote Howlers / RiSE Festival / Mojave Desert
Mother / Son. Zion National Park
Ollie - VER. My boy / My heart.
On another note, I must SHOUT OUT how enjoyable it has been to have received such AMAZINGLY kind and thoughtful letters from many of the folks that for one reason or another read this confusing and often mindless rant of a blogging boy from the Midwest who resides in the valley of the GREAT SALT LAKE. For the past few mornings I have read and re-read those letters, strangers sharing stories, real life connection. I would have to often take breaks between reading, the feeling of knowing that I am not alone (nor did I ever think I was) in the search for that human feel, that connection, that true concern and LOVE, YES LOVE for others would sweep me away into the bucket of emotion and I could only take so much in one sitting. If any of you that wrote me are reading this, thank you, from the bottom of me, thank you. I have been trying to respond when I can, and can’t promise a response to every letter. If I were to dedicate myself to this task my son would starve to death, my lady feel neglected and I would surely perish under the light of candles burning through proverbial “midnight oil”.
My Darkness Solutions
I am in such awe of the human dilemma, there are a million of them, a billion, a trillion, all trying to make the right decisions, all deciding between those two options. We are searching, constant. Looking and reaching. AND BY GAWD, my friends. NEVER stop. We won’t stop. Not even death can stop me. Watch me. Burning out quickly, but with the intention.
Your true friend,
Ollie-VER / King of the Cauliflower / Willamette MTN, Utah
Tour serves an inappropriate amount of both light and dark to the one in her care. Four and half weeks pass as quickly as an autumn evening, robust with color and careless winds that pull your heart to the mindful present moment. As that one 4 week moment passes by / through you everything that is in your surrounding is still moving, your gas company is still charging you a buck a dekatherm, your garbage still gets collected on Thursdays, your lover still makes the coffee weak and leaves the hall light on while you find hunker down on the floor of a 62 year old man that offered his entire home to you and the band while you found your ramblings through Jackson, Mississippi. And all you hope and wish for is that the two worlds can find a balance upon your return back to the world that you left behind. And for the pursuit of a singer? Of a guitar player? A drummer? A dreamer?
We returned home a mere 8 days ago. The tour took us through the Midwest where we sang for Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, and the like. It swirled us onto the Coast of the Easterners and down through the thick south. I find journaling and documenting the entire experience exhausting and have given up on writing about every moving experience. Life (in general) is moving, and to not focus on that fact is to not live (for that moment). To work on being present in the present is presently my pursuit. Too often (so often) I will find myself in conversation, whether it through phone lines or across the table, drinking coffee, and my thoughts are not with the speaker / friend / lover AT ALL, but rather in the land of the NON-living, the dream land, focused on something that has NOTHING to do with my present surrounding. How often do I / don’t I stop to look at the magnificence of the body’s ability to keep moving / breathing / functioning. Almost more beauty in that thought alone (while staying present) than in anything else I could POSSIBLY be doing.
RETURN home to the GREAT.
Pumpkin / Butternut / Spaghetti / Swan Neck Gourd.
"Every good garlic crop needs a pair of small hands" - Hosania Butler
Tomato Tot 1
Tomato Tot 2 (Pasilla Pepper harvest)
Queen Bee / Serrano Pepper Harvest / Picklin’
The tour was beautiful and accepting. I have learned to deal with the up and the down that accompanies a man that travels from city to city, singing and meeting. Timmy, Isaac and Evan make the whole thing that much easier and have been my faithful road companions for years. As we made our journey into the final state in which we would be performing (Colorado) my heart was pulled from one end to the other. I wanted / longed for / needed to see my lover, my boy, my animals, friends and home, but all the while I knew that my days of singing for strangers night after night was about to be put on hold again. I needed something / someone to ground me. There are moments as a human being where you feel completely / utterly / wholly alone, small realizations that you, even you (yourself) can’t pinpoint where you / your mind / being begins and where it ends. Am I my body that is shaking and convulsing while singing? Or am I my mind that gets lost in the lyric and the thought of it all? Am I a balance of them both? And then when you realize you can’t exactly point to where “YOU” are you find yourself drifting further into the ether of loneliness and “self-loss”, but, BUT!!! There are pockets of true contentment and inspiration that float in that place of swirling, whirling confusion in which you can encounter a self-awareness that leads to contentment (happiness feels “AESOPY”) at least for a spell. But ain’t those spells worth it? Those REAL moments in which things feel like a warm sun on your face and the only thing to do is smile back? GOLLY, I hope so, because that is what I am living for.
I’ve always liked Boulder, Colorado. It was the 2nd to last stop and the weather was kind. We stood out back, behind the venue, when a familiar face slipped through the back door. Mr. Gregory Alan Isakov, a farmin’, Colorado livin’ singer and soul searcher smiled at us as he exited the stage door.
“Mr. Isakov” I said with a hand extended. We all shook hands and thanked him for coming out to the show. “Surely you boys have a place to stay here in Boulder..” he said with confidence. “Surely we DO NOT.” I quickly responded. Whether by choice or necessity the boys and I have learned to fly by the seat of our pants, and this particular night we had nowhere to lay our heads. “You guys should just come sleep at the farm!” Gregory responded. His quickly extended hand of friendship and kindness was something out of an Enochian fairy tale. We accepted his generous offer and headed out to the stage with a meaner eye, knowing that there was a place that we would be calling temporary home that night. The show went over well with the kind folks in attendance that Boulderanian night. We packed up and made our way to the 4-acre farm that Mr. Isakov calls home. The night was spent trying to come to an agreement on how to spin a happy balance between love and life on the road as a traveling singer man. The concept of becoming your own best friend came up and made more sense to me at that moment then I would have thought it could / would / should. The things that a human being is made to endure from the use / misuse / abuse from others are (or at least can be) horrendous and life altering. The heart / kidney can only take so much BREAKING before a man feels completely defeated. Love is the purpose I truly do believe. Finding that atmosphere in which you can keep it constant has proven to be more difficult than I initially anticipated when my experiments in love began at an early age. All of this leads back to the SELF. Finding peace / happiness in your own person before trying to love something / someone else.
“Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake
As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake;
The center moved, a circle strait succeeds;
Another still, and still another spreads;
Friend, parent, neighbor, first it will embrace;
His country next; and next all human race;
Wide and more wide, the o’erflowings of the mind
Take every creature in, of every kind;
Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest,
And heaven beholds its image in his breast.”
KING of the “Fallen Cottonwood” / Sir Gregory Alan Isakov / Boulder, Colorado
The night stretched out this way with different ways of coping / enjoying life on the road, and it was a much needed connection that I am in constant search of with other humans. Looking for a good conversation, a savvy phrase to live with (for awhile), a truly heart felt written letter. A true extension of self. Honest. Truthful. REAL. I have spent too long with my head in the sand.
Searcher / Fields of Colorado / Early Morning
(If anyone cares to write a letter to me (not that you would, but if you DID I will respond.) my PO box is the following):
PO Box 1126
American Fork, UTAH
“The mind of love…increases immeasurably and eventually can embrace the whole world. –Mahyama Agama