Chronicles of Dustin Ashley Beam

For Christmas, Jer bought me the ENTIRE series of "Nightmare on Elm Street". (He said that I always walk by the collection and mutter something about buying it and never do. He is, of course, accurate. I love when a friend notices that you want an item and never seem to buy it for yourself and so he goes ahead and does it for you. So, kudos to my platonic soul mate, my soliathero, Jeremy!) I am currently on Nightmare 4: Dream Master" hence why I am up at (yikes) 6:49 am. I have adored and been afraid of these films since I was a kid. Wes Craven cleverly wound horror, suspense, and intrigue in this tale of teens being stalked and murdered by the ultimate dream demon, Freddy Kreuger. My favourites in the series are the original and the third in the installment, "Dream Warriors". So, if you are starting to nod off and faintly hear a chilling lullaby sung by young girls... "One, two, Freddy's coming for you... Three, four, better lock your door...

Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast. ~William Shakespeare, Macbeth Consciousness: that annoying time between naps. ~Author Unknown If there were an award for sleep, I would sweep the awards circuit. No one can compare to the artist of slumber, that being me. Sometimes, I wish that life took place in a gigantic bed. We would all live in pajamas and don our blankets as cloaks. If I ever were a superhero, I am quite sure that my power would have something to do with sleep and my costume would be in the pajama family. I derive strength in sleep, napping, relaxing, and I wish that I could dwell there more often. I love the feel of pajamas against the skin and curling under a few comforters and blankets and slowly drifting off into a world that is unknown and ever-changing. I can sleep whenever I want and I find such refuge be...

Simple. Relaxed. With loved ones. A film at The Rave, my temple. Perfect gifts. I received ones that debuted in wrapping paper and bows, but the ones that mattered most were the ones that are alive and my precious allies. To Mom To Jer To Jay To Karen To Quin and The newly acquired Terry... I taste the sublime. In these past precious hours, he danced with me once more, gracefully through the tick tock of the moments, we were reacquainted. So LONG has it been since we moved in tune with one another on this day. Nothing is better than the small that is grand, the nothing that is every bit of something, the all, the sweet, the taste of sublime.

Everywhere I turn today, I see love. This day commenced watching films with Jer and celebrating his birthday. On this day where there is a celebration of a birth (whether you adhere to the belief system or not), I find myself anew and FULL. I want for nothing. I have everything I will ever need. I wish you the birth of love, of family, of joy. I am SO happy. Merry Christmas to you! P.S. Quin is rocking it out with his guitar and singing the soon-to-be-a-hit "Jesus Loves Me" Quin mix. The cutest thing I have EVER heard/seen.

HENRY DAVID THOREAU: The world is but a canvas to the imagination. ALBERT EINSTEIN: Imagination is more important than knowledge. For while knowledge defines all we currently know and understand, imagination points to all we might yet discover and create. ARNOLD TOYNBEE: Apathy can be overcome by enthusiasm, and enthusiasm can only be aroused by two things: first, an ideal, with takes the imagination by storm, and second, a definite intelligible plan for carrying that ideal into practice. BLAISE PASCAL: Imagination disposes of everything; it creates beauty, justice, and happiness, which are everything in this world. CARL SAGAN: Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere. There was a recent facebook survey floating about in which a few of my friends partook and asked questions of others. #7 posed the eager participant to ask a question of the interviewee. One of those asked of me was: Do you ever get bored? I answered that I have been bored ...

DISCLAIMER: When I started this Holiday Homage concept, I had a few ideas about my subject matter. Funny how your actual writings can morph into something altogether different than the original thoughts frolicking about the cranium (not the game, the actual cranium). Perhaps in a "typical" Holiday Homage one would write about Christmas memories. However, I am nothing if not atypical. Ha. I am merely sharing the people and creations that are making this season worthwhile to me right here, right now. NOW BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED BLOG, HOLIDAY HOMAGE PART TEN: How enraptured am I to watch an animated feature. In the early 90s, "Aladdin" made everything better, made me want to sing, helped me see the world differently. From "Sleeping Beauty" to almost everything Pixar churns out, there is therapy in animation, be it 2-D or 3-D. Watching Aurora and the Prince dance, routing for the unlikely duo in "The Fox and the Hound", wishing you could...

I become terribly excited about new worlds, be they abounding in television, film, books, music, or food, etc. There is something significant in entering this new domain and obtaining joy and introducing yourself to the characters, the story. Each time this happens (big ones being Harry Potter, The West Wing, etc.) I am mindful that this could be the last time... the world could not possibly create more for me... and, yet, I stumble upon a new world. The latest addition to my fictional family is: THE BIG BANG THEORY I owe an interpretative dance to Ian who introduced me to the show a couple of weeks ago. Oh, Sheldon, he is it... he just makes sense to me right now. Hilarious banter, fresh dialogue, lovable characters swimming boldly in their neuroses... what is not to love? I am currently viewing Season One. I am in awe of life, its creation, the fact that humans can imagine and bring to fruition these stories in which I find comfort, humour, and truth. There could have been a diffe...

In the midst of the sleeting, Jay, Karen, and I played Trivial Pursuit. Quin played with the pies and pie pieces.  We all had "toddies" and enjoyed one another's company. Ah, the simple things.   I love these times, these winter nights of freedom. I love these people. They are my family.   There are two words that were answers in the game. These two words make me giggle (especially niblick) and I thought that I would share them with you. nib⋅lick   [nib-lik] –noun Golf. a club with an iron head, the face of which has the greatest slope of all the irons, for hitting the ball with maximum loft. ti⋅glon   [tahy-gluhn] –noun the offspring of a male tiger and a female lion. On days/nights like this, it is as if the world is saying, "Rest. Play. Enjoy." We at the Clark house are doing just that. The DASH (I am bringing back that nickname.)

I have been ill this past week and am more behind in school that I care to articulate.  During this, I had to rehearse for singing gigs and performed in one last night.  Through it all... when I have not wanted to leave the bed and am falling further behind in my studies...  The song changes everything.   I chose to sing "I'll Be Home for Christmas" last night in the concert.  A few weeks ago, I had never heard the opening verse.  The opening verses of standards are either gems or atrocious.  The one to this piece is haunting and makes the number that much more emotional and heartfelt.   There are no sufficient words to describe the joy and peace of performing, telling a story through song.  In this time where I am looking for my new home and in flux, this lyric spoke to my spirit and I was able to share that with others.  In this season of joy, of peace, I sometimes find myself overwhelmed, but I am able to access that joy, that peace through song... always.  I carry it ...

This summer whilst doing "Sweeney", I met Sam Pettit. I was focused on bringing Anthony to life, so throughout the show and backstage I was serious, quiet, reflective.  This guy brought life to the backstage.  He is JOY.  There was a performance in which he could not "attend the tale" and the show was different, lacking somehow. He is a high school senior and has the lovable qualities of youth: exuberance, unparalleled energy, a need to learn, and... He is pleasantly himself. He has a real sense of who he is and that is a rarity in someone so young. He dares to be different, but in an organic way, not to rebel and for that I respect him.  He is more aware than some I know twice his age.   We have kept in touch throughout the months.  When I am pensive or dwelling in the darkness, he is a light of hilarity.   I do not know where Sam's course will lead him, but I am profoundly grateful that it lead him to me this summer. He is such a raw talent with the ability to...

Speechless am I, Rare that is, to find myself... at peace. After turmoil that fumbled me about, shook the joy, shattered the me I knew. Now A new me That has been available  for many moons Smiles and winks "You and I are one Always. Thanks for being ready. I have been waiting  For your delicate passion To invite me In." Now I see him I shake his hand He hugs my wounds WE... laugh Because... I want to Because... I let go of the needless guilt I am more than okay I am beautiful No one can take that from me Alone but happy Reading Writing Learning Remembering my story Awake Alive In the k a l e i d o scope of serenity

A few posts back I mentioned that I was attending a Halloween costume party as a jester. I felt that this jester was named Julian. There have only been a few times in my writing (be it songs or stories) where I have felt like I was a vessel, like the story came to me and LET me write it. It is strange and liberating to talk with these characters and, yes, sometimes hear them. The newest one is Julian and I plan to start writing a song and short story, "Julian, the Jester's Gesture" along with a few other children's stories, next year. This picture is NOT Julian, it is merely me dressed as Julian and the motivation that started the muse and the real jester to enter my psyche of fiction. The more I create, write songs, tell stories, the more I really question what we know about reality. Is there a line that can be crossed where the characters are real? Not in the way that we are with a circulatory system and all that, but where these characters (be they Julian, my...

van⋅ish   [van-ish] –verb (used without object) 1. to disappear from sight, esp. quickly; become invisible: The frost vanished when the sun came out. 2. to go away, esp. furtively or mysteriously; disappear by quick departure: The thief vanished in the night. 3. to disappear by ceasing to exist; come to an end: The pain vanished after he took an aspirin. ev⋅a⋅nesce   [ev-uh-nes, ev-uh-nes] –verb (used without object), -nesced, -nesc⋅ing. to disappear gradually; vanish; fade away. hi⋅ber⋅nate   [hi-ber-neyt] –verb (used without object), -nat⋅ed, -nat⋅ing. 1. Zoology. to spend the winter in close quarters in a dormant condition, as bears and certain other animals. Compare estivate. 2. to withdraw or be in seclusion; retire. I am vanishing. I am donning my emotional invisibility cloak. This is neither a bad or a good thing. It is what I need to do. I have a few upcoming singing gigs and I shall attend those without the cloak, but I am loving the quiet and stillness of my room. F...

In the first couple of months after my Father's death and funeral, all Mom and I did was eat, lay on the couch, and watch various DVDs. In the rare occasions I would venture out of the house, I would drive to Hastings and walk around the store in a haze and rent or purchase a film or TV on DVD to watch that night. It was my therapy walking amidst these fictional stories that were neat, tidy, and had happy endings. Somewhere, in the chaos of my life, I stumbled upon "Friends". I had seen a few episodes during its ten year run on NBC, but was not really a fan. I rented a few episodes and put them on to watch, in the ritual that had become mundane, but three magical moments occurred in very rapid succession, moments I shall not soon forget: It was the FIRST time I heard my Mom laugh again. It was the FIRST time I saw that she was still in there fighting to be alive and vibrant. It was the FIRST time she said, "Ross is cute." I promptly went out and bought the...

I write. It is as normal to me as breathing. Sometimes the writings are better than others and sometimes the writing is longer than others, but it is how I express myself and I am drawn to self expression often. There is NO OTHER person on the planet that gets that or gets WHO I AM better than JEREMY KEITH JONES RICKETSON.  When talking, writing, or thinking about him I find myself at a loss for words.  And that is NOT a normal situation in my world. We have been friends for 20 years.  That is 2/3 of our lives.   There are two components of why I like him: SELFISH He has been there for me during a hard breakup, my Dad's death, hours of conversation, validating performances, writings, songs, poems, thoughts, EVERYTHING. BECAUSE OF HIS IMPECCABLE CHARACTER: He embodies... compassion, calming energy, wit, intelligence, truth, reality, talent, childlike wonder, and  LOVE. He is my greatest ally in my journeys and shall forever be.  There are many times when I like to vanish and be al...

I drive As I did that night This time It is not the same No goodbyes Not knowing what to do Arriving home to watch Grief enter in A slithering dance A furtive glance A last chance To be a kid I pause to remember to reflect to breathe This night of December 1st encircles me I yearn for the simple The sight of you The laugh of you The real of you But I will always And always love Donald Wayne Beam My only Dad You Did it your way I Do the same You Are not forgotten We Are connected All is changed In the Two Without You...

Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me. Stephenie Meyer Perhaps that is a strange way to start an entry on Thanksgiving morning, but it is on my heart and is from the novel "New Moon". Time is a vacillating and nebulous entity. I have weathered my aching seconds, ticking one by one... But not today. Today I give thanks to be alive, to love, and to be loved in return. I wish everyone the enchanting rapture I feel in my spirit walk. Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night. Edgar Allan Poe And I am awash in my daily dreams.... my capacity and yours is measureless. Dustin

It happened. Somehow every year around this time my heart bounds into holiday mode. It is an enigmatic mesh of peace, paradox, rumination, revelry, abasement, and tenebrosity. Its inveigling nature coaxes me into submission. I accept every year with both wonder and chagrin. This year as the Holidays approach, I have decided to pay homage to the people, entertainers, and creations that make it all worthwhile in my life. The first shall be Gavin Creel. He is one of my favourite artists because his voice IS music to me. He is one of those that was destined to be a singer, period. I had the opportunity to write to him on facebook and he responded. That is the wondrous facet of facebook: the ability to connect. When I first contacted him last year, I posed a few silly questions to him so I went ahead and answered those this time. He is a gem of a human being and his voice is superb... by far he is my favourite male vocalist. Go to www.gavincreel.com for information about him and purchas...