Now did you want to see me broken,
bowed head and lowered eyes,
shoulders fallen down like teardrops,
weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my confidence upset you?
Don’t you take it awful hard cause I walk,
like I’ve got a diamond mine breakin’ up in my front yard.

So you may shoot me with your words,
you may cut me with your eyes,
and I’ll rise – I’ll rise – I’ll rise – rise – rise.
Out of the shacks of history’s shame,
up from a past rooted in pain,
and I’ll rise – I’ll rise – I’ll rise – rise – rise

I remember the day I first heard Ben Harper. It was sometime in the early nineties. I was young and falling in and out of love. I was on a porch in San Francisco, and the day before I had told my girlfriend at the time that I just wanted to be friends. She was due to come and talk. I wasn’t sure about what or why, but I had agreed. The sun was getting ready to set, and the fog waited in the Richmond to be unleashed.

I share this story with you, because as writers I think it is important to remember that all of our writing no matter how structured it may appear is anchored in real life experiences, and connecting to those memories is one of the most important aspects of writing. Back to the story…

She arrived. Broken. Smiling. I offered her something to drink. We sat on the porch. She had been crying. I have some songs to play for you she said. I have a new favorite artist she said. You will love him she said. I hated that she knew me so well. It made it harder to make the break. Before I knew it, I was heairng the basic three-chord progression of the song Walk Away by Ben Harper. You can hear the song on the Ning.

The words floated from the speakers and disappeared over the edge of the porch:

Oh no- here comes that sun again.
And (that) means another day without you my friend.
And it hurts me to look into the mirror at myself.
And it hurts even more to have to be with somebody else.

And it’s so hard to do and so easy to say.
But sometimes – sometimes,
you just have to walk away – walk away.

The connection I made to that song on that late afternoon was so strong that even as I type these words years later, I can feel the same tears welling up in my eyes. We sat listening to the entire album- Welcome To The Cruel World. The girl and I remained friends. I was just invited to her wedding this August. But it was the music that helped solidify that day in my memory.

My admiration and love of Ben Harper was born that day years ago, but his music has been a constant source of inspiration and comfort to me throughout the years. We chose his song Forever as our wedding song, and whenever I am in need of honest, truthful, soulful, spiritual music it is to Harper I turn. He is a true artist in the sense that he is more than a musician. He is an activist, a father, and a beautiful human being. These characteristics shine through the words of his song and can be seen in his amazing live performances. I have been lucky enough to see Harper live on several occasions and each show is a carnival of soul, blues, rock and roll, and folk. He blends his political anthems with a tender grace reserved for vespers and lullabies.

I am sharing Ben Harper with this class because I want to show that musicians and artists need not be labeled as merely political. Harper is not a political artist; he is simply a human being aware of the state of the world; he is a man in touch with his spiritual need to bring peace to those he touches with his art. Whether through love or protest songs, he is a man of action and style.

He may not be on top forty lists, but Harper is a spokesman for members of a generation looking for something more than blind consumerism and greed. He stands for peace, love, and the assembling of the human family. I encourage readers of this blog to explore his website and more importantly listen to his music. Watch him on Youtube or at his site see how his work connects with you.

Where to start? His website allows you to stream many of his songs. His album Fight For Your Mind is a great place to start. As always there is his wikipedia page. Here are some song titles to explore:

Better Way
With My Own Two Hands
Oppression
Excuse Me Mr.
Black Rain

Let me know what you think! Please upload your favorites on your Ning pages! Write a post about how his music affects you.

Take your face out of your hands
And clear your eyes
You have a right to your dreams
And don’t be denied

I believe in a better way

First, I have a shikayat, a complaint against anyone reading this. Currently only two people are commenting on this blog. I put a lot of work but I guess it’s going to waste. The amazing two people I’m talking about are Mr.R and Julia. Thank you both. I would probably give up if it wasn’t for you. So those of you reading comment and you two amazing people keep on commenting and please send my blog link to anyone you know. Why? Well I don’t are if they think it’s a blog by a wired girl who has an average life. Even if they think so I don’t care just get them to mention that they came; by comment.

This is for you Leila:

Let me start by saying I feel your pain. As a much younger man or was it last week, I felt the pain of not being noticed. I poured my heart out into the world and realized the world didn’t notice, and if it did detect my presence it didn’t seem to care. I feel writing in general and blogging in particular is about communicating and connecting, and it can be very difficult to continually participate in a one-way conversation with what often feels like an abyss. Here is my advice:

We write because we have no choice. It may take some time for you to realize you are a writer; I hope you realize that most people never realize it. Be patient. You are young, observe, live, experience life. The calling will come; I already see it in you. I didn’t hear it until I was nineteen, but it comes to those of us who are passionate and constantly yearning for things we can’t explain. We write because the universe pours too much into our souls for us to handle. We write when awake and we write when we dream. We hear the words as they dance in every song we hear and see them in every face we meet. We write because the world is too perfect not to be documented. We write because we connect with the intangible and spiritual. We write because we appreciate the practical. We write because we are idealist and because we are realist. We write to reawaken magic and put to sleep apathy.

Sometimes we hope that people will read our words and perhaps pat our backs, but when we really start to write we do it because we can’t stop. Writing is bigger than ego and the writer. Writing belongs to the world; we simply catch it and give it form. We scribble on napkins and on the backs of our hands. We write by the way we dress and the way we walk. We realize that life is an on going story that we are writing even as we are living it.

Don’t concern yourself with who is reading your work and what they are or not saying. Just observe, listen, live, love, be young, and enjoy every experience in your life. Each one, good or bad is material for your story. That is the beauty of being a writer, you are constantly ready to work. Some see this vocation as a disease, and in a sense they are right, but once you are infected you have no choice but to continue. Just be glad that you know you are alive, many people in the world have no idea! Spill your guts and tears into words, paintings, music, art. They will never let you down.

I used to think that to be a writer one had to be published, or famous, or paid, but now I see that to be a writer you have to simply write. Rest assured that Julia and I are here and are reading, but don’t concern yourself with any of that. Just write!

• What advice do you have for writers?
• What does writing mean to you?

Please either comment below or write on your blog and give us a link.