Common Ground

Watching events unfold across this beautiful country, I struggled to find something that maybe everyone may have in common, or could agree that is good for all. Impossible task you say? A week ago I would have agreed with you, then it hit me.

Regardless of race, color, religion, socioeconomic status, political affiliation, there is something. It does not matter where you are from, what you do, what you did, or will do, there is something. Something so available, something so simple and infectious it cannot be stopped.

Music. A melody of a guitar, African drum, didgeridoo, Erhu, it does not matter. Music is in all of us. A raw form of expression, emotion, and piece of soul that is shared to the world. A universal language that needs no words, yet everyone can hear and even understand.

Adding the written word to music makes it even more powerful. Adding a political platform because of a successful music career is exploiting music as a whole. A person does not even need to understand the language to get even a small understanding of what a musician is trying to convey. Music at some point, has had nearly everyone stop and say, “This is my jam” or can simply associate with even the simplest song. A parent’s lullaby to a baby or a ripping hair metal power ballad, they go beyond just words, they grab you and hold on for just a short time.

The Blues told detailed stories of the deep south and was the foundation of so many other genres of music. Opera was derived from storytelling of Greek Mythology. Country Music started with fiddle players from the Southern Appalachian Mountains who told their stories in the common language of music.

Is this a cure, nope. Is a start, maybe. Is music an important part of every culture, I most definitely believe that. Humans tend to associate with music of theirs and other cultures, and that is a beautiful thing.

My point is this: We live in the greatest country in the world, and if you do not care for it, the world is a large place,  I encourage you to go explore it and find your utopia. And if you do, I guarantee music helped shape wherever it is you land.

I too associate with a demographic, but it is quite different that some of the craziness that we see on television and news outlets. You see, my demographic has is color blind. My demographic relies on the strength of different opinions. My demographic is a brother and sisterhood that stands together in the face of adversity. My demographic is that I am an American. As an American, music, specifically the National Anthem represents my brothers and sisters. More importantly our National Anthem is a reminder why we have the rights to protest peacefully, own a business, go to school, speak out. It also reminds of the cost of these opportunities and freedoms. Changing something that represents Americans is nothing more that encouraging division. We all have rights, and our rights are going to infringe on each other’s from time to time. It happens. I will not always agree with you, but that does not mean we cannot have a beer. That difference, that conversation, that is what makes America great. We must learn from our past, no human can change then, only now. If it takes something as beautiful as music to have people actually listen, count me in.

Thank you to the musicians I know for not only playing, but creating some of the best music out there. Alyssa Ruffin, Blind Joe, Josh Frank, Josh Kehr, TACOCAT, Black Light Nightmare, Corndog Kings. Take a listen to what these very different individuals have to say through their music, maybe we can all learn something.

Rock on!

DTH

 

Listen to My Radio Interview

Hi Everyone!

In case you missed it, feel free to click the link below to listen to my radio interview on the Heroes of the Heartland Radio program from this morning!  Thank you all so much for the continued support for this project! I used to say it meant the world to me, and it does, but now I am starting to see that there is a bigger picture.  Thank you for all the phone calls, texts, and emails. Keep them coming!

Heroes of the Heartland: Dan Hudson | INFORUM

Using Yours

Like a loving mother that would starve to feed her young,  life too will feed you if you are willing to eat.  On the other hand, should you find yourself not hungry, give your plate to another, for then you become life.
DTH 2019
Using Yours.
I was recently in Charleston, SC and found it was every bit beautiful as I had been told.  Like most cities, there are several faces of the city, even if you travel just a short distance.  I find this same comparison in people.  Some may look good on the outside, but more often than not, they too have another face.    
Arguably, I am a humble guy. I prefer to encourage people and congratulate their successes.  Don’t get that confused with credit.  I am a firm believer in giving credit where credit is due.  A Champion of the soon to be successful underdog. 
In reality, There are those that ask for your “help”, and once provided, give little to no credit to those whom really do the work.  Often times this occurs in the Supervisor/Supervised relationship.  The unfortunate result is a moral destroying situation for the supervised. 
The above scenario used to really drive me crazy.  Pages and volumes of my research, making those in higher positions look good. Furthermore, the posturing that ensues is almost comical with no ex post facto benefit for those who actually have done the work.   Unfortunately, this seems to be a common scenario regardless of where you have employment. 
Most people do not need to be paraded around cubicle city upon their co-workers shoulders, yet some do.  My point is, the simple act of giving credit where credit is due by a supervisor is sign of strength, not weakness. 
When, not if, this happens to you, remember some advice the smartest guy I know told me. “We always win in the end.”
This ever happen to any of you?  I can measure this in days and weeks for the most part. The thing is, learn from this as someday you will be the person who passes the plate, or throws it in the garbage.  I encourage you to pass the plate and give everyone the best opportunity to succeed.  Leaders eat last, my friends.
Thanks for taking a look!
Dan

#Poetry “Garden of Trust”

Garden of Trust

 

In this vast world filled with humans, seek those that one can trust,

The inside is true and what matters,

The outside insignificant, beautiful or covered with rust.

 

To see a person for who they are takes not your eyes,

Listening with one’s ears,

Sorting out the truth and the lies.

 

Eyes locked in place, speech genuine and profound,

These are the words to believe,

Straying from truth, when the conversation turns to the ground.

 

Seeking similar souls and building a safe place,

These seeds of a beautiful garden grow,

The weeds pulled and are displaced.

 

 As the flowers grow, harmful intentions sound off like a symphony of 1000 horns,

No matter how much work or beautiful this garden of roses,

there will always twice as many thorns.

DTH ©2018

Poetry “To Myself a Lesson”

                                                               To Myself a Lesson

Closing my eyes, I left my body, only for a little while,

 an escape from reality, allowing for temporary denial.

As I walked a path, images of my life were left and right,

hearing every word ever spoken, every picture in my sight.

Like a theater with movies playing at the same time,

 watching each tear, each laugh, each mountain I had to climb.

Over here I am a child outside playing ball,

staying until dark, coming home to my mother’s call.

I looked to the left and watched a small moment of my life,

 it was my wedding day, so happy, and such a beautiful wife.

Ahead was my family on Thanksgiving Day,

heads bowed down, as they all began to pray.

Their prayer was for peace and health, thanking God that we are free,

  before the last amen, they said a prayer for me.

My family was together, but I wasn’t there,

 consuming sadness set in , it didn’t seem fair.

On the right there was a man lying face down in the snow,

I stood above him, his life gone, who he was, I did not know.

Behind me I saw myself yelling at those I cared,

They all looked confused, hurt, and even scared.

I tried to close my eyes, to watch this tore me apart,

 but I had no eyes, my words caused pain and broke more than one heart.

Turning my head, I saw a man standing threatening to do harm with a knife,

and me with my gun, prepared to end his life.

Next to this was a man on some tracks waiting to die,

wanting a train to kill him as it quickly rumbled by.

Above was a young girl pinned in a car, not moving or speaking,

broken glass and metal scattered over the road made of tar.

To the side was a young soldier standing guard at his post,

calling for help, that scared me the most.

“I am coming to get you, it will be alright”,

my vision blurred with tears as the image faded from my sight.

I tried but couldn’t move, so I looked down,

I had no legs or body, and there was no ground.

What am I, where am I, get me out of the place,

that is when I turned one more time and saw my own face.

It was me I was looking at, standing there with a smile,

a look of peace and calmness, something I had not seen in a while.

I almost didn’t recognize myself, appearing as I once was,

the chaos of each image muted, becoming quiet as an insects buzz.

The other me made a motion to turn around,

this time I was able to move, below me solid ground.

We walked together for some time, not saying a word,

stopping by a door, then my own voice I heard.

“Hey there buddy, I am really you but you haven’t seen me in a while”,

 I stared directly at me, my face in denial.

“You look at me like a stranger, but I have always been here,

 the hardest times you faced, I was standing near.”

“Your anger tried to push me away, that is no way to live,

but it was me whispering in your ear, move on and forgive.”

“Life has created who you are now, but you were first me,

today you choose your path and the person you deserve to be.”

I stood amazed, and didn’t say a thing,

wishing I was me again, able to accept what life can bring.

Finally, able to speak I asked, “ Hey, am I dead?”

The other me laughed, “No, this is a dream, but not like your others, you are safe in bed.”

“How am I supposed to forgive these things that matter?” hoping he knew,

My other me said, “Forgiveness isn’t for them, it’s really just for you.”

“Let go of the anger and hate that keeps you awake every night,

your war is over and now it’s about us, and no longer our fight.”

With a laugh he said, “let’s go” and knocked on the door,

it opened and inside was my new life, everything that mattered and more.

“Are you coming with, or are you going to stay where you’re at?”

 In front of me was a table, my family, and my chair where I always sat.

Before I could answer, my old self was nowhere to be found,

 I searched all over, my eyes darting around.

My old me was not gone, realizing I was always him,

 the light was bright ahead of me, behind the images became dim.

From the air my own voice called, “There is something you must know,

once you walk through that door, these memories will stay and never go.”

“They will be with you for as long as you live,

but I promise you will get out of your new life, exactly what you give.”

I smiled for the first time in what seemed like in years,

My family greeting me with hugs and cheers.

My voice called and said, “Hey, there is one last thing”,

forever in my ears, these words like a soft song will sing.

“It will better from here, but sometimes your mind will still roam,

your peace and happiness are found, now that you have finally made it home.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________

I don’t really know what to say about this, so I won’t. I will let it speak for itself. You may draw your own conclusions. 

If you think you know someone, or do know someone that can benefit from it, share it.  That is why all of these are here.  I feel I can reach more people on a platform like this before it is too late.

I recently had the honor to read some of my work at a Healing Warriors program that emphasized how healing, through art, whatever the form may, is so helpful.  I am still speechless at the stories, writings, and artwork created by these amazing veterans. Thank you all so much for your service that allows people like me to write what I do. 

I write today because I enjoy it.  Is it any good?   I have no idea, that is not why I write.  I write because these words, much like a painting from an artists brush, come from my mind and end up as typed characters on my computer screen. 

Thank you all for reading this very long poem.  I still have a tough time reading it out loud.

                                                                              DTH 

 

Poetry “Every Cloud”

                             Every Cloud

 

From a high above cloud God looked down,

At a farm below, and the white snow on the ground.

 

He saw his children who live in this place,

Had committed themselves to his word and grace.

 

Through good times and bad, God saw and knew,

This family tested, proving that they are honest and true.

 

When storms didn’t seem to end, and life was filled with doubt,

God didn’t leave, he was with them throughout.

 

The clouds can get heavy and cover the sun’s light,

Take comfort in knowing the clouds are his, and do not block his sight.

 

With a smile on his face, God listens, hearing each prayer,

Every moment seen, every cloud, God’s chair.

 

                                                                                D.T. Hudson 2018

Farming is a tough business.  Where I come from, we rely on honesty, hard work, and faith.  You have little control over things such as the weather, market prices, disease, or other factors.  You just have to do your best and hope that it is enough. 

Even when those around us tend to take the path of lying, cheating, and stealing, it is important to remember that the path chosen is the one you own.  You are not accountable to me.  A wise person once said, “What cometh around, goeseth around”, or something like that.  

It is easy to give up, cave in, or just quit when things seem like they are impossible.  Whether it be a financial hardship, loss of a loved one, health issue, or just simply being wronged by another, it really is not your fight. Let the arrogance of another be their downfall as the path they chose leads nowhere but to darkness. 

Whether you believe in God, Karma, or another higher power is not for me to judge.  I think we can all agree that most things happen for a reason. We may not always like the situation, but typically we learn from it, and it works out for the best.  Let your higher power take care of these things.  Rock on people, rock on!

P.S.  How cool are drone photos? Thank goodness no one decided to be close to nature and take an outdoor bathroom break!

Poetry “The Guitar Lesson”

                                                             The Guitar Lesson

 

My father once gave me a guitar, I proudly displayed for all to see,

He taught me how to play, creating the music of my life for no one else but me.

 

Time taught me the world would be less confusing if everyone spoke in one tongue,

Indeed, that exists through music, every note played, every note sung.

 

But my life more closely resembles this instrument I choose to play,

Music through sound, telling you exactly what I want to say.

 

This guitar can be used to speak words without moving my lips,

Or a street performer happily sharing song,  just playing for tips.

 

Moments in life mostly resemble this old guitar,

High and low notes change quickly, without moving very far.

 

Played by ear or sometimes with sheet of music to follow,

Some are electric, others shaped round and are hollow.

 

The neck is divided by frets, much like time separates all life’s events,

Each space a different note, each memory past or present tense.

 

Different chords played many ways, it really does not matter,

One fret up makes it sharp, and one down is flatter.

 

Like life, a good song depends on how much time you put in,

Never perfect, yet sounding better with practice and discipline.

 

The chords are like humans, making rich tones as my fingers move around,

No matter the brand of guitar, they all make a similar sound.

 

How it’s played is the difference, neither right or wrong,

Picking the melody instead of strumming, making it sound like a different song.

 

But the song is the same, masked by each individual technique,

To live life is to celebrate another’s difference, each special and unique.

 

It took this long to realize this guitar’s lasting impression,

Learning that anyone can understand me through music, was my most valuable guitar lesson.

 

                                                                       Thanks Dad

                                                                                                                                D.T. Hudson 2018

Guitars, and music in general, have become such an important part of my life.  The holes in my office walls where I missed the studs trying to hang pictures are covered by these works of art. 

My dad got me into playing guitar at a young age. The good old 50’s and 60’s music like “Wipe Out” and “Run Around Sue”.  He and mom were hard-working farmers.  I was the pain in the ass middle child that moved out soon after graduation. I had no farming aspirations or abilities whatsoever. Regardless of who I am or what I did with my life, music would always be a staple. 

After moving to Arizona to avoid these cold winters, he really took to finger picking and playing gospel. I can not tell you all what a joy it is when he and mom come here (in the summer of course) to visit.  We sit and play guitar, talk music, and simply discuss guitars in general. Considering play hair band rock, our duets get rather unique. However,these special times have truly become one of the best parts of my life. 

I am a drummer by nature, but I have always loved to play guitar.  Unlike a piano, the notes not only go vertical on the neck, but also horizontally. There seems to be unlimited things you can play and there is always constant room for improvement. Am I any good, hell no, but I have fun trying. 

The amazing thing about music, these guitars in general, was that no matter how different of people dad and are, we will always have this in common.  For me, that is one the greatest things in the world. 

 

Poetry “The Wind”

The Wind

There is a place that sits high on top of a hill, in the summer it is green, in the winter the snow will fill.

The lake with blue water is now frozen over, a white blanket  has covered this  field of clover.

The winter winds run through it like a riot, but today this land provides much needed peace and quiet.

Abundant tracks of wildlife made while they roam, nestled in the trees, a place they call home.

It could be now or one hundred years prior, the view catches my eye and I stand to admire.

A soft breeze touches my face, making its way to my ear, whistling by, there is a voice I can hear.

The wind calls my name as before, but this time I listen, while snowflakes in the sky flash and glisten.

This voice is familiar, often I chose to ignore, words of true peace and happiness, please tell me more.

Forgive those around you, and you will live much longer, forgive yourself, and you will be much stronger.

Know that there is bad, but good will prevail, let go of your anger, let it set sail.

Accept who you are, not what you will be, do all these things, then you will free.

I tell the voice that in this life, nothing is free, there are prices to be paid, the cost is on me.

The voice let out a small sigh, and said you must move forward, instead of asking why. 

What is around you has been here for years, it has seen the world’s happiness and its tears.

You are part of this place as much as it is part of you, full of life and love, every day brand new.

Take this gift for which you did not ask, be true to yourself, take off your mask.

I left the hill, the words a carousel in my head, and vowed to try to do everything the wind had said.

When I returned that summer, the wind blew but did not call, never again heard, winter, spring, summer, or fall.

                                                                                                      D.T. Hudson 2018

      There is this place by where we used to live. We referred it as the POD land; long story.  The view to me was amazing.  Overlooking a beautiful Minnesota lake, I often dreamed of putting a home on the property.  The problem was, I didn’t have the resources to even come close to achieving that dream.  So instead of building a home, I would just sit an admire the beauty mother nature had given this place.

     Throughout my poems, you can probably tell that my mind works on dark and light levels.  For instance, when I am working a project, specifically art, my thoughts are almost verbal conversations that I have with myself.  I would be lying if told you I didn’t sometimes also answer myself, but that is a different story all together.

     This picture of the land in the winter is near and dear to me.  I am fairly certain someone purchased the land and put up very large and lavish home.  That is the beauty of photographs and poetry.  I can remember it just the way it was, or maybe still is.

     Thank you for taking a look at “The Wind”.  I appreciate all of you reads and comments.

Poetry “This Moment”

Living in the country we truly get some of the best looks at the sky.  What some may struggle to find in a photograph, we are fortunate to have almost daily.  This old swing has been with us almost as long as we have been together. It is a matter of time before it gets to the point where it is no longer safe to use.  Until that time, we will sit in it, talk, and watch the sunrises and sunsets.

These moments are embedded into my memories.  The simple pleasures of a loved one and great conversation.  Sometimes supplemented with a hot cup of coffee or a cold Captain Morgan.  For those of you that know me, I do like my Captain Morgan.

Either way, thank you for taking a look at “This Moment”, because it is a huge part of my life.

This Moment.jpg

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