Chronicles of Dustin Ashley Beam

One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. - - - Emily Dickinson If a man harbors any sort of fear, it makes him landlord to a ghost. - - - Lloyd Douglas I adore this holiday, always have. Last year I found some of my traditions and am keeping them this year. "Reefer Madness: the Movie Musical" - CHECK. "Rocky Horror Picture Show" - TONIGHT. "Garfield Halloween Special" - CHECK and again TONIGHT. Last night Megan, Duvall, and I used a homemade Ouija board and it "talked" to us, really Megan and myself. We were conduits. Ha. It creeped us out and we destroyed the board we made. But, it was something both Megan and I wanted to try. I do believe there are all sorts of forces out there and that one can communicate with them if one believes strongly enough. So, here's to traditions, trying new things, pumpkins, falling leaves, costumes, drinks, haunted houses, creepy s

Have you ever wanted something so deeply that you truly thought that it would never happen? You even decided you could live without it and then... BAM... A potential of that desire, that prayer, that longing, appears. Even though I am strong and assured now, it still brings all sorts of fears and angst screaming to the forefront of me. Oh the past and how it can colour the present and future. Must demystify all that and just let things happen the way they will, come what may. Who knew I could feel some of these emotions? Not me, says the man in fashionable glasses.

When I am needing to be the most energetic for school, job hunting, etc. I have fallen ill. Greeeeaaat. Certainly not an end of the world scenario, but damn inconvenient. Thank the good makers of TV on DVD, soups, blankets, and naps. I don't like the days where I cannot sing; it is as if I have lost a part of who I am. But it will return and I will celebrate. A couple of nights ago I carved a pumpkin and let me say it is a safe bet that I will win no awards from my finished product. It was fun nonetheless and a tad frustrating. The innards of a pumpkin are gross. Ha. I am terribly excited about Halloween and marveling in how fast this month has danced by. Much love to you who read this, Dustin PSfP: This picture serves as a representation of Halloween and also lets you know how I feel about being sick. The jack-o-lantern is both creepy and fun... crun henceforth. :-)

Today I was a little low; Nothing in particular happened, I just was. All I did for an hour or more was sing. Sing from a place of purpose, of joy, of life. A couple of months ago I named my voice. It is the MOST consistent thing in my life, my dearest friend, one of my greatest gifts, and therapy, power, love, passion, and ME all in one little voice box. My dear ALMRACERO, you are my hero, my passion, my joy, my all. Thank the world, the Fates, God, or whomever one happens to believe for this gift, this special talent that I have NEVER and promise to NEVER take for granted. I remember when I was in seventh grade riding back from an All-region Choir audition. I was sitting in the middle of the bus on the right side and I remember looking out on the grey day and praying, almost pleading to God, "Please... Please let me be able to sing." Little did I know that the next year my voice would change and the beginnings oy my musical road would unfurl. Last night I listened to s

Life is busy. Life is good. I saw a puppet show, "Falsettos", and "Twelfth Night" this weekend. The puppet show performed at a local (and adorable) toy store in town. Charming. "Falsettos" was at The Weekend Theater. Compelling. Made me cry. Lovely job done by all and such a strong piece of theatre. "Twelfth Night" was at UALR and I enjoyed it as well. There were some fine moments and the set and lighting really magnified the performances. I have written papers, am still buried in homework, but it was a nice and busy, busy weekend. It is something to walk back in the Cathedral of St. Andrew's and sing again. Much life has been lived in the past four years since I was the Tenor Section Leader. I could not help but feel the ghosts of my past self there and give him a wink and say, "Look how far you have come, you are more secure, aware, and at peace." Life feels like a comfortable warm blanket now and I am lounging around it.

My body aches from nights of odd sleep; Imitating Molly Shannon characters didn't help the cause too much. Through a night of writing papers, lyrics, researching History and Spanish, my mind is racing in different lanes trying not to run into one another. Watching "Harry Potter" soothed me. Each time I embark upon that world, I am literally transported, mind, soul, and (if I believe deeply enough) body to the world of Hogwarts: a place that has bewitched me all these years. It has been one hell of a week. I have much to do tomorrow and Sunday. I am proud of what I am accomplishing and for just trying again. It feels good to be checking things of the list. I have to find a job. That is proving more daunting than I imagined. I do return to Second Pres next week and that is a homecoming I am going to bathe in for a while; such lovely people are they. My desk on which my laptop (Phoebo) lives is growing more and more cluttered with the Dobby bobble head, the Harry P

back in the chair of root canals and crowns that are not royal i sit and talk with the gods of the gas of laughter vibrating in the fields of the before and after the circle life makes the detours life takes sorting the reals and fakes the circle life stakes back in the voices of friends and singing where i belong how i have missed them this year grateful to have left the time of fear the detours life takes sorting the reals and fakes the circle life makes the circle life stakes a new potential is found scary, but true, odd, but real this time i will be fearless, nothing to lose letting go is what i this time choose sorting the reals and fakes the circle life makes the circle life stakes the detours life takes the student in me returns after a long time dormant state "hello again" i dance and delight it's good to know you were not lost in the fight the circle life makes the circle life stakes the detours life takes sorting the reals and fakes "i want to believe again

I just finished the three to five minute musical for my theatre class. How thrilling and fulfilling to complete a work, no matter how small or for what purpose. Ah, creation. It is entitled "Tick-Talk" (An Adult Pop-Up Musical). I enjoyed writing it and look forward to the next few weeks of pairing the lyric concept with music and learning and performing it. I have been listening to Carrie Underwood like a mad fiend these past few days. She is a musical force of nature that one. And she is exquisite. One lyric of the song "The More Boys I Meet" has enchanted me and made me smile. And I close my eyes And I kiss that frog Each time finding The more boys I meet the more I love my dog True indeed. I think I am going to try and work it in a medley in my forthcoming cabaret in March. I am mushy-brained due to two tests this week, four papers to write, a show to see, a film to watch, a performance to do, etc. Time to hunker down. I love creating. I love personific

Dear Oren Peli, The time is 705 am and I am awake. I woke up from a peaceful sleep because I could not get a particular image of a person standing by the bed out of my soul, not out of my HEAD, but out of my soul. You little clever shit have created such a scary, stay-with-you look-over-your shoulder film. I want to hit you and hug you. This film should be a phenomenon. It deserves every accolade it garners. I see hints of a new day's sun. Here's to those rays washing away the images that taunt my psyche, and bully my fear. Dustin

Duvall, Jamie, Mikah, and I went to the Arkansas State Fair this evening. So. Much. Fun. Rides. Screams. Fries with cheese in a BUCKET. A beef sundae. (It looks like a real sundae but is beef, mashed potatoes, and a tomato.) The food was so gross that it looped around to being healthy. Right before Duvall and I launched into our wonderdom of riding the Fireball, the "carnie" told us he hated his "motherfucking" job and said that we were the last place on his "tour" and he would be disassembling this ride for a "better version" or "a new part" or something of that nature. Then there was an ellipsis moment and he stammered that there was nothing wrong with the ride per se, but that this "new part" would merely make it where he did not have to climb as much. Then we were rocketed into our thrill ride avenue of playocity. We then listened to a band called Tragikly White. They sang everything from "Thriller" to &quo

Sometimes I raise my arms slowly like I am singing the ultimate phrase of a song in a concert where the audience is captivated. Odd thing is, I never sing a note during this. I just raise my arms slowly. I bought nose hair trimmers yesterday. I thought I looked good the other day and looked in the mirror to behold a forest of nasal buddies that NO ONE wants to see. I found my first ear hair. Really? Sometimes I do not feel like my "real" life has started. If I could do anything, I would sing and tell my stories through song. I used to want to talk everything out and now I would rather let most things lie and see what happens organically. The holidays depress me so. I wish my Dad knew the man I am today. Sometimes life makes me mad: the changes, the not knowing of it all. Those very reasons are also why I love life. I simply cannot stand pissy gay men. They are like odd party favour peacocks that should be put down. Sometimes, often really these days, I am not sure there

In my daily walks, I do find a sense of self-comfort that I have never known. I am delighting in tiny things and rewarding myself with a soul pat for getting back in the school game. I love this time of the year, it always makes me feel at home no matter where I am literally or emotionally. Halloween is such a great holiday and I am currently sifting through the many ideas I have for a possible ghoulish itinerary. Just as I am mending one relationship, finding its rhythm again, another one baffles me with its curious state. I used to think that at some point I would get it all together, but I do not think it ever all comes together at the same time. I find humour and solace in that. Relationships are tricky. I think I am a decent friend, but I certainly like my alone time, I am odd, and have changed a great deal over the past few months. I guess it makes sense that what I needed in friendship is no longer exactly the same. Today I started writing a scene for theatre class tha

"The West Wing" is like a television vortex, it just sucks you in and it is nearly impossible to escape its clutches. "It rains nine months out of the year in Seattle." This quote keeps frolicking in my head. I love the rain, I do, but we certainly have seen our fair share this year. Yes, I am literally talking about the weather in a blog. It has come to that. I got a high A on a History paper and a 10/10 on another. Let me simply say that it is wonderful to be passing classes, much less know that I am doing rather well in two; Spanish is taking its toll on me. Honestly, I have been a bit hermit Dustin when I can be again. Sometimes I feel like the regular things that others do just get to me, fatigue me, and when I can, I steal as many me moments as I can. I only write this musing to share and not thinking that I have much to share right now. It was a slow day, a lullaby to my senses. As I have become older, I cherish the alone days and the me time, where

My day consisted of: burnt muffins that looked like charcoal that had been mashed with a blender of doom, smelling like mashed blender of doom and getting "Febreze'd" at my Mom's office (yes, Febreze'd), a Spanish show and tell presentation in which my Harry Potter doll valiantly appeared, a Theatre four line reading in which Duvall's zombie defense knowledge appeared, writing a paper on Lycurgus and Sparta whom I made a Doctor and patient, respectively, a LONG History class that is always long but with the weather felt like "Gone With the Wind" was jogging past us, giggling, and pointing a bitchy cinematic finger, the Dustin and Ian Monday night of "How I Met Your Mother" and "The Big Bang Theory"... So, all in all, a funny, productive, and rainy day. My "West Wing: The Complete Series" arrived on Saturday and I could not be happier. That show is mmm mmm. What would I do without my little stories to watch? On Saturday

Once upon a time there was a girl born on July 29th and when she entered the world the clouds themselves smiled and patiently parted to let the infant bask in the new sun, the light of her world, aptly nicknaming the child "Sunshine". The clouds knew that she would be a beacon to those in need and a true friend indeed. This girl grew up to become Jordan Claire LaSalle. The woman was everything the clouds envisioned her to become and much, much more. Jordan was dynamic in life and in endeavors, loving to friends and strangers, attentive to needs, wit personified, beautiful in every way possible, and true to herself and others. Jordan chose to be brave, to live, to make mistakes, to learn, to grow, to teach, to love, to laugh, to endure, to be, but, most importantly, to be present and see what each moment was offering. In Italy, Jordan met a character named Dustin Ashley Beam and the two have been close ever since. Although gay, Dustin has a way with the ladies and is in n

Outside, rain falls as it has often in our humble Natural State this year, much rain, much grey. I have really begun to love the rain. It has been a mirror of my travels, the cleansing, the nurturing of new soil for what lies ahead. I met with Kristina, the Bulgarian Wonder Beautiful Dreamer Enigma and we ate, talked, and shopped. I found some IMPECCABLE deals for Christmas and bought my Mama and others a gift. How fun is that? We also stumbled into an art gallery and I was transfixed by how remarkable talents can blend colours and create a glimpse into their story, their world. I am thinking about art more as I am about to change one of the minors to art: scary, fun, and huhtastic. I adore Kristina and understand her troubles and hopes, being single, wanting to make music, and trying to find who you want to be when there are overwhelming potentials. What a problem to have, but she is a genius. We discussed music, trying to create a company for us so we can entertain at parties a

Cheese dip, chips, Dr. Pepper, pajamas, colder weather, a morning of singing, a cocktail afterwards (in the afternoon poppets), conversing with Jer and Jojo, laughing, loving, my Lifetime watch parties like no other (meaning me and some food), watching "Roger Rabbit" again, writing new material, and... THE PHOENIX is coming guys, this CD is taking shape and, soon, taking flight. Wow. Yay. Racecar. The last one was to finish the list of palindromes. Spank it (that is for Jordan), Dustin

As I write this, "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" is celebrating in the magic square on the dresser, candles tickle my nose with their vanilla and cookie scents, my taste buds delight in yummytummy grub, and I cannot stop smiling. In this bliss of a moment, life is everything it is, it should be, and Possibility gently holds my hand, knowing it can get clammy and cold, but not caring. Possibility loves unconditionally. Life is simple today, the way I love it. I rested. I studied. I conversed. I cleaned. I found. I framed pictures of Sandi Patty. God, I love her. Soon, it will have been two years since I started this blog, the unexpected musing that is a source of constancy and has become a true friend. I love today. I love who I am in this moment of perfection. Wishing you perfection that is uniquely you, Dustin

Conly, here is a spur-of-the moment and fun poem for you. Thanks for bringing your distinct array of joy my way. I love you. :-) Oh how I have missed thee With you I can see all the glee life can be There was a reason you were sent to me In New York you dwell And I have something to tell At times that city can be hell This I know, but you are SWELL... A woman with colours swirling and showing the creations of you, smiling and growing So proud of you am I for knowing that you are unlimited, with you, all is glowing... Let that voice, that smile, that poet, that woman and child play Let the others see a sun, a flower that brings light to day You are missed, but my ENFP lily you shall stay A little sis, a partner, a friend, come what may My Conly, I miss and love thee Of this I must tell You are always growing Come what may... Love to a lady that makes me smile, that helps me create, that understands how to "play" and that growing up does not mean growing in, growing old, but