The Kevlar Beard » Uncategorized

Change

joshmickelson — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 13:56:04 +0000

Are there none who live around us who know just what we are?

Like a moth changing bodies for a new and distant land.

From a dusted grey coat to a bright feathered headband.

We were dying in the night sky.

Now we fly through the sun’s warm rays.

I spread my wings for the child’s appeasement.

You tickle the cheeks of some lover’s face.

We remain voiceless about what comes next.

We’ve traded our grey existence for a colorful mask.

The completion of this beauty is an unnoticed death.

That’s the plight of the sacred, returning to the ash.

Gypsy River

joshmickelson — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 13:34:46 +0000

Like a gypsy river you run

Without fear or clamor.

Settled to be led around

By the wind.

Knives concealed under your

Pale white tunic.

What need have you but

The wind and the rain?

Pass through my township

And view the maimed.

Only you are foolish enough

To free the silenced.

To take on the judgment

Of our orphaned souls.

Some pictures

joshmickelson — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 19:06:00 +0000

This spring, I went on a roadtrip to Los Angeles. unfortunately, I coudln’t find my camera after our pit-stop in Las Vegas, so all of my pictures are up to that point. i just found my camera a few weeks ago and figured I’d pass along some of our shenanigans.

Enjoy

risky:

the view:

Impeccable style (notice the flip flops+black socks)

Distraction

joshmickelson — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 19:05:34 +0000

I find it interesting how the moment I sit down at my desk, I am bombarded with distractions. 99% of these distractions are rooted in the computer screen sitting in front of me. As soon as I sit, I think “I need to check my RSS, Twitter, Facebook, Message Boards, and Bank Account”. Meanwhile, my moleskin is sitting right next to me just begging to be written in. Sometimes these distractions even pour into my work productivity. I am aware that it’s somewhat ironic that I am “blogging” about this issue.

The point is, sometimes I need to make a conscious effort to re-prioritize my life and what’s important to me. Is it more important for me to check Facebook or be creative? Is it more important for me to read the latest RSS update or serve my customers at the job I am blessed to have.

Lately, it feels like I need to remind myself of this daily.

Kentucky Street Parlor Pickers

joshmickelson — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 19:49:05 +0000

We now have an official facebook page, complete with mp3s, videos and other propaganda! Please friend us and have a listen:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kentucky-Street-Parlor-Pickers/

Inspired

joshmickelson — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 17:05:20 +0000

haha

joshmickelson — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 20:18:24 +0000

Yes!

joshmickelson — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 12:27:10 +0000

Through the Pine video

joshmickelson — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 12:34:20 +0000

I posted these lyrics back in December. Well here is a video of my singing the song if you’d care to watch:

Freckled Whitman

joshmickelson — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 13:27:31 +0000

I remember my mother telling me stories of her father, Alfred. They would work in the barn and Alfred would recite Walt Whitman poems to his red-headed, freckled daughter. The hay and straw was looming in the air, particles floating without rhyme or reason. Her knobby knees crossed as she stared at the man she loved most.

I never knew my grandfather; he passed away the year before I was born. That said; I know my grandfather. I know he lived a life of hard work and love. I know that he was a quiet man who was strong in stature yet tender in heart. This all begs the question, does love transcend death? Are pieces of Alfred’s Whitman recitals still floating along side the straw on a breezy, Minnesota evening? I’d like to think so.